#i DO need a cute girl to bring me green bean | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ktheist · 4 years ago

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girls like you [don’t] run ‘round with guys like me | m

characters. popular!reader x shy!jimin

genre. college au. rich kids au. fwb au. eventual ceo au. eventual racer au.

words. 4k

warnings. 18+

note. this is a repost. tumblr messed up my exposure last time. this fic didn’t show up in search and it’s probably a third post of mine that ends up like this. this one probably won’t either but posting bc someone might see it and like it.

It’s easy to tell when Park Jimin is in love.

Unlike Kim Seokjin, his eccentric, dad joke-loving friend, Jimin would only wear the pastel pink when he’s feeling giggly and shy and mushy inside.

The source of said feelings being either the barista he goes to get his daily dose of coffee from, or the girl at the library he studies at during finals or well, right now it’s the girl he’s fucking almost every day of the week - you.

“What are you doing?” Seokjin looks at him like he just dumped a spoonful of salt in a broth that needs a little, teensy bit of sugar.

Or his face seems to say that as he goes on, “she’s a mean girl. She’s mean.”

Jimin isn’t sure if Seokjin’s aware that he’s just repeated the same thing twice.

“She calls you Chim!” The older man reiterates.

“Yeah, it’s…” Jimin trails off, the heartwarming image of you cuddling into him after yet another mindblowing sex, flashing at the back of his mind, “...her pet name for me.”

“Sounds to me like she can’t remember your actual name,” Min Yoongi interjects from the couch he’s claimed for himself ever since they got to their usual hangout.

It’s a penthouse Jimin’s parents bought him on his 18th birthday. Him and the boys would hang around there after they’re done with classes or just need a place to crash whenever they have problems with their girlfriends or boyfriends or parents or any sort of problem that renders their usual room not sleepable.

“I think we can just agree we have different wants,” Jeongguk - or the sanest of them all, as Jimin likes to call him - chirps in, taking a bite of the apple he got from the fridge.

“Exactly,” Jimin throws his hands up as if freed from his elder friends’ judge-filled eyes. The vibration of his phone in his lap gives him even more comfort to know that he finally has an excuse to slip away - he checks his phone, your name flashing in the bubble that says ‘hey, wyd?’

“I have to go, it’s ___.”

A series of groans and hollers equally erupts from the men in the room at the realization of what Jimin’s ‘having to go’ means.

And so it goes. Jimin finds himself under your blanket that smells like fresh laundry - it’s a nude green color compared to the pleated black and white from last time. Your head is on his chest and he’s caressing your hair like it’s the softest thing he’s ever laid his hands on.

Besides your boobs, that is.

“I was thinking… since we have Monday off… maybe we could-”

It’s the way you push yourself off him, eyes that are onto him gazing straight into his soul, “oh shoot, Monday’s a public holiday. I totally forgot! I have to meet my parents. My dad’s been nagging me to come back since I skipped Christmas and New Year.”

And there goes his chance to ask you out on a date.

“Oh yeah, what were you saying about Monday?”

Jimin wears the biggest fake smile he can muster, “just that… me and the boys are gonna hang out and we’re bringing our girlfriends and boyfriends and uh- doesn’t have to be someone you’re exclusively seeing,” he almost chokes at the almost-admittance that he has the fattest crush on you and wants to make it official by inviting you to a couple’s-only hang out, “but like, I don’t think I’m going, it’s boring anyway.”

He waves his hand dismissively, trying to play it cool.

You make a cooing sound, eyebrows knitting together as your lips pout cutely before a playful smile blooms on your face, “I know what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?” Jimin thinks he heard his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re single and all the boys have someone special they’re gonna bring… it’s gonna be awkward as hell because they’re gonna act different because they’re around their special someone so you thought if I was there, it’d be more fun because at least you have a friend with you that’s not gonna act fake the whole time there but I can’t go so you decided you’re not going too like a minute ago.”

Silence lulls in after your analogy that you sound so sure of when, in fact, he has a whole list of things he’d do on the date which he may or may not have gone over a hundred times in his head.

Doesn’t matter now, since that date is a no-go.

He’s going to delete that list off his phone once he gets to his place and drink himself silly until he wipes it out of his mind.

“Yeah,” Jimin says a moment later, “yeah… I mean, girls in love are cute but boys in love are just… annoying.”

The week flies by without Jimin ever mentioning Monday and you’ve showed him the clothes you’re going to wear to visit your parents because apparently-

“It’s lunch at some five star Michelin restaurant and I think they’re gonna tell me they’re getting a divorce,” your voice drifts into the room from the open, walk-in closet.

“If they’re not in some long, dreadful battle on who gets the holiday house with the pool and the dogs - how do I look?” You step out, in a frilly creme sweater with a black ribbon tied around the collar of your white undershirt with a black pleated skirt that stops mid-thighs, just inches from your black stockings.

A glaring contrast to your collection of washed out skinny jeans, plain t-shirts and sneakers.

“You… look…” Jimin knows he should stop openly ogling at your never-before-seen drip but there’s just something about the creme colored sweater.

“Like a good girl?” You offer with a smile Jimin couldn’t quite put a name to. Somehow he notices a trace of sadness in your eyes, but you disappear into the closet too soon.

“I’ll think about what to wear the morning I need to wear it,” you’re in the middle of pulling off the sweater when Jimin comes up behind you, kissing your neck and grabbing your boobs like they’re his.

The sound of your giggle is music to his ears.

That is, until his boner brushes against your butt and you gasp, “Chim! We just did it.”

“I know but you look so cute in that sweater.” He sounds exactly like Jeongguk. Like a fuckboy.

Like one of the boys you got tired of before you finally noticed him, the quiet, shy guy who’s friends with the outgoing, baby-faced Jeon Jeongguk whom - Jimin hates to admit it but he thinks about this every once so often and gets jealous all on his own - you’ve humped and dumped.

How you and Jeongguk still manage to stay friends and tease each other about the other’s choice of partners, Jimin doesn’t know.

It’s like a twin calling the other ugly.

He wonders if you and him will still stay friends after…

Jimin pushes the thought out of his mind. It’s not hard to forget everything when he’s with you - when he’s kissing you on the mouth like you’re the only girl he’ll want to spend the rest of his college life with and maybe his old days with together too.

“Chim, I can’t get my shirt creased,” you say but you’re already dripping wet and laying down in said shirt that’s half ridden up from him sucking and biting on your nipples.

He stopped you when you tried to take off your clothes.

“I’ll wash it and iron it for you,” he negotiates just as he rolls the condom over his length.

The sound of your giggle makes his heart skip a beat. Or maybe that’s the libido?

Either way, your mouth clamps shut when he pulls you down against him by the dip of your waist.

A different kind of hymn leaves your lips as Jimin throws his head back, relishing in the feeling of you around him.

When Monday rolls around, Jimin’s lying on the bean bag with his two legs sprawled over the floor. The boys are all out with either their significant others, working part-time or at a party.

The worn out baseball Jimin’s been tossing in the air and catching with one hand finally hits him square in the face when he hears the doorbell, signaling the presence of someone at the door and that someone being none of the boys because they would just punch in the code and strut in like they own the place.

Jimin thought maybe it’s Yoongi - the guy couldn’t even remember what he had for dinner and actually forgot the passcode to his own rental room once.

So he didn’t think to check who it was.

When your bright smile and slightly puffy eyes flash in front of him, Jimin thinks his soul just yeeted itself out of his body.

“Hey!” You sing song, holding up two plastic bags of beers and snacks.

It takes a moment for him to snap out of his stupor and grab them from your hands and then stepping aside to let you in.

“Is… everyone late or am I just early?” You sound increasingly confused as you step further into the center of the room, standing right next to the bean bag he was laying in just a moment ago.

“Oh-” he says once before he opens his mouth the second time, ready to spurt out another lie, “oh yeah… we decided not to ‘cause why hang out in a group when you can hang out with your significant other… you know, just the two of you… doing what couples do…”

“Huh,” you say, nodding though not quite believing him but you being you, easily lets it slide, plopping on the bean bag and grabbing the closest thing to you which is the ball that hit Jimin in the face - he’s sure he has a circular mark smack dab in the area on the top of his nose bridge, in between his eyes.

The dress you end up wearing is creme colored and riding up your thighs - Jimin swallows thickly and give extra attention to the bottle opener.

“So… how did lunch go?” He pops two beers open and hands one to you, taking a seat on Yoongi’s favorite couch and admiring how your dress is taking the shape of your body as gravity pulls it down.

“Oh, you know, everyone was being fake and acting like the perfect role in the family,” you put the beer down a few inches above your head so as to not tip it over with the ball you’re waving around but not throwing in the air like Jimin did.

“Sounds suffocating,” Jimin repeats a similar answer he gives whenever you use that dismissive tone while talking about your family.

“...are you okay?” Then he asks - and he’s genuinely asking - about your state of mind while casually downing the beer and feeling the bitterness lessen with every gulp.

The silence that lapses in between you is familiar.

“If I say no, can I get a hug?” It’s the look in your eyes, glimmering like the lake he used to go to in summer.

“Always,” he sets his beer down on the table next to the couch and goes over to you, standing on his knees before bending down and engulfing you in his arm.

You’ve always had a knack for picking yourself up.

When he sees you the next time, which is on instagram and a post of you having lunch with your friends, Jimin could hardly believe that’s the girl who asked him for a hug as if she’s afraid she’ll be putting him in an uncomfortable spot by asking for too much.

But there’s something…

Like an invisible wall made of ice that he can’t thaw through nor can he climb over to get to the other side where you are. Where you keep the people you love the closest. Closer than he’ll ever be.

Jeon Jeongguk is one of them.

In the picture of five people huddled close to fit in the frame, Jeongguk has his arm over you with a peace sign while you lean your head on his neck but not actually resting on it - like it’s an unconscious action you’d do because you’ve done that plenty of times.

Is it when you two were together?

Everyone he knows, knows that you and Jeongguk used to be more than just friends at some point.

Sometimes he still hears people talking about you two in passing.

‘Did ___ and Jeongguk get back together? I saw in Jeongguk’s snapstory - they were in a club or something.’

‘No way. There goes my chance of getting close with Jeongguk.’

‘Girl, with ___ hanging around him 24/7, do you think he’d look at girls like us?’

‘A girl can dream though.’

Jimin wanted to open his mouth and tell them they deserve way better than Jeon Jeongguk - though they’re not prettier than you.

He thinks you’re the loveliest girl on planet earth and if there was another life form on another planet, he’s almost a hundred percent sure you’d still be prettiest being in the universe with your obsession for skinny jeans and the way you’d unconsciously pout when he talks about how things weren’t going his way that day as if you would’ve exchanged your abundance of luck with his shitty one just because you’ve got that big of a heart and how you’d be walking with your friends, laughing and giggling and when you see him, you’d wave at him like you’re good friends.

Second only to Jeongguk and your friend group that you’re always hanging out with.

“Oh, ___? We were childhood friends.”

“Hmm… Gguk and I became friends because our parents are friends.”

The two of them say at different times and settings when Jimin asked, trying to play it cool. Like he isn’t just brimming with jealousy. Like he’s not half-way to losing his mind because the girl of his dreams just went to a retreat with his friend-of-a-friend-turned-actual-friend together when everyone else in the group who was excitedly planning for the trip - couldn’t make it.

The rooms at the inn weren’t even pre-booked. It was owned by Jeongguk’s family and they didn’t deposit any money for the trip for them to rationalize going on that trip anyway despite everyone else not being to go.

“The trip? It was fun, if you want we can go together next time.”

Jimin isn’t sure if you even mean that when he asked how the trip went after you’re glistening with the glow of after sex and scrolling through instagram, liking posts of everyone you know.

But then three months later, on your break, Jimin is hit with a ‘keep your schedule free next week for a whole week!!!’

Then he finds himself at a five star hotel by the beach with the most breathtaking view of the sea.

It wasn’t the inn owned by the Jeon’s but Jimin liked the fact that you brought him to a place - and he hopes his assumptions are true - your friends have never been before. Especially Jeongguk.

“Woah, this place is better than I thought,” a king sized bed lies directly across from the balcony where you’re standing, hair flying behind your back as the seaside breeze blows into the room.

“We can watch the sun rise and set from our bed,” Jimin comments for the sake of saying something.

He’s not sure what this means. He’s not sure if he should be having a boner at the thought of the two of you being together for a whole week without any other person getting in the way. He’s not sure if his heart should be thumping this fast.

For the first time since he’s known you, Park Jimin is the most unsure he’s ever been.

“You know what I wanna watch?” Your hands slip in his as you stand between him and the open balcony door, “you under me, biting your lips because you’re still shy about the sound you make.”

So when you tug him back into the bedroom just minutes after checking in, naturally, Park Jimin follows like he’s been bewitched by your ungodly beauty.

Once the one week of nothing but heavenly morning wishes and passionate night kisses - oh, there was more than just kissing but Jimin remembers how your lips meld so perfectly together with his the most - Jimin is sure.

‘Something definitely changed.’

He thinks maybe it’s not impossible to dream of a future with you even after college.

“Jimin I-... I’m not at a point in life to be thinking about relationships,” you say, hand gripping your arm, head lowered as if your whole body is saying sorry.

“O-oh,” is all he says, he hearts his heart breaking and his chest caving.

All of a sudden, the lights in Gangnam city doesn’t seem so bright anymore.

You both live your last year pretending like the other doesn’t exist. He doesn’t look at you when he passes you and neither did you. Only talks to Jeongguk even though you’re right next to the aforementioned man - granted you were talking with your other friends like you didn’t even notice him there.

But Jimin’s never felt so invisible in his life than he does now.

Then, graduation rolls around and he thinks finally, he won’t have to walk through the hallway and pretend like he didn’t see you. Don't have to keep a five feet distance whenever you meet up for a group project.

Park Jimin doesn’t need to see your pretty face and starry eyes anymore.

“Jimin… do you have a minute?”

Or so he thought.

“So… congrats on surviving college,” you make small talk while standing just ten feet away from the boys whom he’s sure are speculating on what you’re talking about.

Jimin never got to prove to his friends that you’re not the mean, name-forgetting girl they all thought.

Jeongguk knows you’re not. He’s always backing Jimin up when Jimin’s debunking their passing accusations about you.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out between two people but doesn’t mean one of them is the bad guy.” Jeongguk's words put an end to their debate of whether Jimin deserved better than you or not.

For someone young, Jeongguk spoke his mind decidedly.

Jimin felt ashamed that he’d ever been jealous of Jeongguk’s relationship with you.

“I just… didn’t wanna leave things on a bad note. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I said no but I really like spending time with you - whether it’s sex or just staying over and cuddling for hours… I like it all.” You say the word sex and cuddle like they’re used interchangeably and Jimin thinks his heart just fluttered.

And you’d said it in public where your everyone can see or possibly pick up on what you were saying, at that.

Well, one thing’s for sure, you’ve got bigger balls than he does.

“My feelings are the same as six months ago and call me crazy but I don’t think you dislike me either.” He finally says and it feels like a deadweight has been lifted off his shoulders.

There comes that pout, as if something is bothering you and you always ever pout like that when that something concerns him.

“You kidding me? I can never dislike you.”

The Jimin from six months ago would have stared at you with disbelief and a dust of pink on his cheeks. But the Jimin he is now simply smiles, heart thumping in his chest. He nods.

“Thanks for telling me that,” and Jimin knows that’s the closest to an ‘I like you’ he can get with the girl who builds an ice fortress around her heart.

A whole year passes by and Jimin finds himself in different shades of grey every day, working at his dad’s company and attending dinner meetings. Life comes to a standstill while time passes him by.

“So, like, you have a sports car, right? Why don’t you come over to the race circuit after dinner? Everyone’s gonna be there.”

Jeongguk tells him over the phone.

And by ‘everyone’ he means the sons and daughters in the corporate world. It’s networking at its finest.

When he’s there, three cars are already racing in the circuit. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of tires screeching against asphalt isn’t exactly his favorite but they have cheap booze instead of fine wine and he knows the people here are in for the same thing as he is.

An escape.

Away from the grandeur of fine wine and dinner dresses and the elders breathing down their necks and having to act like the next heir to the legacy they were born to carry.

“That Chevrolet over there,” Jeongguk comes, hand on Jimin’s back as his other one that’s holding a bottle of beer points at a red car that looks like a racing fireball, “everyone’s betting on that one tonight.”

Jimin doesn’t know there’s a bet.

“I’ll skip the bet this time ‘round. Haven’t seen the driver yet,” he shrugs dismissively.

Even in stock investment, he’d learned to study the market first before placing his best bet.

Jeongguk leaves his side when his friends - he’s got new ones now - beckons him over. At the same time, the Chevrolet passes the finish line seconds before the Ford Mustang and McLaren 720s, making it the winner of the night.

The driver seems like a show off with the way the car rolls up to the audience, the sound of its engines revving into the night being met with cheers of half-drunk young adults.

Arrogance is a man’s downfall.

Jimin’s about to turn around and head for the exit when the door of the car gets pushed open. The driver steps out, decked in black and red leather jeans and jackets that seem to match the car.

But it’s the smooth, silken hair that cascades past the helmet that catches his eyes.

Park Jimin’s seen many arrogant men in his life but he’s only ever seen one woman with balls and looks good wearing them.

“___! ___! ___!” The crowd starts cheering as you pull off the helmet, holding it underneath your arm and waist.

Your eyes are as brilliant as the night sky full of stars. They’re tinged with shock and then recognition. And finally, you smile that gorgeous smile that gets you misunderstood often as a woman who doesn’t need anything or anyone but uses them as they come.

But Park Jimin knows better than anyone, how wholeheartedly happy that smile looks when you see him.

Like meeting a good friend after a long time.

Seven months down the road, Jimin finds himself with just a blanket draped over his waist while you’re taking a shower in his bathroom to get ready to head to Hong Kong for a business trip.

He hears the sound of the shower head being turned off. The tapping of your foot around his bedroom as you pick up your clothes that are strewn all over the floor.

Then the bed dips ever so gently under your weight as you climb over to him, the fresh scent of shower get filling his senses. Lips press a deep, lingering kiss on his. As if you don’t want to go to a place where he won’t be.

A few socials and midnight races after his first meeting with you after a long time, you asked him if he’s seeing someone.

“If I say yes, what will you do?” It’s playful at first, because Jimin didn’t want to get himself hurt the second time.

But it’s the way you tilted your head, a finger tapping on your chin as you pondered on his words, “that’s a problem because I don’t want to be that girl that steals another girl’s man,” then you looked at him like you know he’s the one you want to wake up to every morning and the last face you see when you sleep at night and if you can’t have that. then-

“Can you be mine… just for tonight?”

“I don’t think I can.” The crestfallen expression you wear makes his own heart break, even if it’s just for a split second-

“Because I’m not seeing anyone but I’m in that point in life where I want a serious relationship or nothing at all.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is how he doesn’t want a relationship if it’s not with the girl who still haunts his dreams even after all this time.

Just like how you’d turned him down because you weren’t looking to be in a relationship before, you’d courted Jimin like you’d want to spend your whole life with him now.

Flowers got sent to his office everyday until it smells nothing short of floral. You’d be there, waving at him like he’s your savior in that dreadful social you were both attending. Every week, you’d plan dinner dates under the guise of catching up.

Before you race, you’d look over to where he’s standing, as if saying ‘this one’s for you’ before slipping into your car and coming out first every single time.

As if you were making up for every month of the year that you’d let life pass you by.

Now you’ve won a total of 36 races since he met you and the metal band you gifted him on the night of your 12th win feels warm against his skin. As if it’s absorbed all the love and adoration you poured into it.

And you’re wearing that ring he got you on your birthday on your finger that’s resting on his chest where his heart is as he kisses you back just as reluctant to let you leave.

But Park Jimin knows wherever you are, wherever you will be - you will always find your way back to each other.

Back home.

#bts smut #jimin smut #bts fics #jimin fic #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #bts x you #bts x reader #jimin x reader #jimin fics #bts fic #bts fanfics #jimin fanfics #jimin scenarios #bts scenarios

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snelbz · 3 years ago

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Tempting the Fates {Chapter 8}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz X @theladyofdeath collaboration.

Word Count: 2752

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

***Announcement! *** After the completion of I’ll be Seeing You and Tempting the Fates, all of Tara and I’s joint fanfiction will be posted on a separate blog that we run together > @snacmc. Be sure to follow the new blog as we will start posting on there soon!

Athena

– Goddess of wisdom, reason, intelligent activity, literature, handicrafts and science, defense and strategic warfare

Rowan felt ridiculous.

He had spent the last hour cleaning his apartment and was currently pulling all of the food out that was meant to be prepared for dinner.

Steak, carrots, green beans, potatoes, a wide range of spices.

Thanks to the internet, Rowan knew what to do with them all.

It’s not like it was that big of a deal - Lorcan and Elide were joining him and Aelin for dinner.

And although he had hosted Lorcan and Elide a million times for dinner, Rowan had never cooked, nor had he introduced them to someone he was crazy about.

And he was crazy about Aelin.

She didn’t have classes on Fridays, something he wished he had been smart enough to plan when he was in college, so she’d done his grocery shopping while he was teaching all day. When he got home, he was expecting her to still be there. But his apartment was empty.

I have to get ready, she’d explained when he called her. I wasn’t expecting Lorcan the other night, but I have to impress Elide.

“You could have gotten ready here. You shower here all the time.”

We have sex in the shower, I don’t use it for functional purposes. Not yet anyway.

So here he was, laptop open to a recipe for pan-seared steak, making sure he had everything he needed.

Aelin had promised she’d be here before Lorcan and Elide, and he had been hoping to impress her with his skills in the kitchen, too, even if they were rough.

Now he was hoping not to set the smoke alarms off as he turned the stove on and put way more butter than he was used to using in the cast iron pan.

As it began to melt, he was already considering his meal a success.

Just as he was dropping the steaks into the pan, the front door opened and Aelin was letting herself in.

“Follow the sound of the sizzling,” he called, and Aelin came into view a second later.

She whistled, brows raised. “I like a man in the kitchen.”

Rowan laughed as he met her halfway, giving her a kiss. “Hopefully you still like it after you eat what I make.” Another kiss. “You look beautiful.”

She scoffed. “I’m wearing leggings and a top.”

“And you look beautiful in them,” he replied, turning back to the stove. “Just like you do in everything.”

“You’re a shameless flirt,” she said, beginning to chop the vegetables. But he saw the blush creep across her cheeks and ears.

Although they were cooking a homemade meal, he’d made sure she knew this wasn’t going to be anything fancy.

Elide would never let me live it down.

Rowan had always got along well with Elide, although he had absolutely no idea how she ended up with Lorcan. Rowan loved his oldest and closest friend, but he was a natural asshole.

Elide was the opposite.

“I have to confess,” Aelin began, nibbling on her bottom lip. “I’m a little nervous.”

Rowan’s brows rose. “Why?”

“Well, these are the people we’re going to be spending a lot of time with, I assume, since they’re two out of four people that know about us.” She gestures between the two of them. Their unorthodox relationship. “If she’s as sweet as you say she is, I’m worried my sarcastic ass will offend the woman.”

Rowan couldn’t help the laughter that shook his body. “Do I need to remind you that she’s been with Lorcan for the last five years?”

Aelin whistled. “Five years and still no ring? That gives me good material to ruffle Lorcan with.”

He froze and glanced over a shoulder at her. “Maybe don’t bring that up.”

Aelin was instantly grateful she had mentioned it now, and not in front of Lorcan directly. “Why?”

“Lorcan is…” Rowan trailed off as he flipped one of the steaks over. “He’s complicated. He’s not great with commitment. Elide is the only girl he’s been in a real relationship with as long as I’ve known him.”

“And how long is that?” Aelin asked, transferring the chopped veggies into a baking dish.

“We’ve been best friends since elementary school.”

Aelin’s eyes widened. “Oh. Wow. Okay, I won’t bring up anything to do with weddings or babies or any other lifelong commitments.”

“Good idea,” Rowan chuckled. “It may not seem like it, but as of now, Lorcan likes you. Imagine how cranky of an ass he would be if you got on his bad side.”

“Almost as bad as it is for someone who gets on mine,” Aelin grinned, and that mischief sent a thrilling chill down Rowan’s spine.

He opened his mouth to respond, to say something along the lines of lets do it right here, right now, before they get here, but a single knock sounded on the door.

Aelin whistled. “Even Lorcan’s knock is grumpy.”

“It’s also early,” Rowan mumbled, setting the tongs he’d been using down beside the stove and heading for the door. On any other occasion, Lorcan would have let himself in, like usual, but he knew how important this night was. Or at least was to Rowan.

He opened the door and found Lorcan grimacing, while the petite girl with dark hair was bouncing from foot to foot.

“Is she here?” Elide asked, grin growing. “Or do I have time to grill you about this alone before she shows up?”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to grill us both,” Aelin said, appearing from the kitchen, a smile on her face.

As Rowan shut the door behind them, Elide’s mouth popped open into a little O and her eyes narrowed.

Aelin’s grin grew. “Hello, Elide.”

“Aelin,” she breathed. “Aelin Aelin? As in…Aelin?”

“I’m guessing it was the same Elide,” Lorcan mumbled, carrying a covered dish into the apartment. “Elide made dessert.”

With that, he was going into the kitchen to place it on the table.

The two women ran towards each other and embraced. Rowan kept his mouth shut as he watched the scene unfold.

Elide stepped back. “You don’t seem as surprised as me. Why don’t you seem as surprised as me?”

“Lorcan told me where you were from and how you moved around last time I was graced with his presence.” Aelin shrugged, that grin remaining. “I had a hunch, but wasn’t sure. Besides, if it did end up being you, I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

Elide turned and glared at her boyfriend. “A little heads up would have been appreciated.”

He was already halfway to the fridge, heading for a beer he knew Rowan would have restocked for them. “What she said. I didn’t want to get the story wrong or your hopes up.”

Rolling her eyes, Elide looked back to Aelin. “Men.”

Ending up back in the kitchen, Aelin finished up the veggies and was putting them in the oven when Elide asked, “So Aelin, how exactly did you two meet?”

Aelin glanced at Rowan and then back towards Elide. She was sipping her wine as she leaned against the counter, looking like the picture of innocence. Lorcan was shaking his head where he stood next to her.

Clearing her throat softly, she took the safe route. “In class.”

Elide’s eyes lit up. “So he really is your professor.”

“I thought that had been established,” Rowan mumbled, covering the steaks with foil to rest before they ate.

“I wasn’t sure if you two were just trying to mess with me again,” she said, eyeing Lorcan and Rowan. Turning to Aelin, she said, “I’m so glad I won’t be the only girl anymore. You have no idea how awful it is being the third wheel with these two.”

“You’re the third wheel with these two?” Aelin asked, brow raised.

Elide barked a laugh. “Absolutely. The more time you spend around these lovebirds, you’ll see what I’m talking about. Their bromance is out of control.”

“Bromance, huh?” Aelin grinned as Rowan rolled his eyes.

“It’s cute, really,” Elide said, then slowly shook her head as she met Aelin’s eyes. “Wow. I just can’t believe it’s you. It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” Aelin said, and Lorcan cleared his throat from where he stood on the other side of the room.

“Are we done with sappy pleasantries?” He asked. “I came to eat.”

Elide pointed to the oven, where the vegetables were still roasting. “Five more minutes in the oven, but you and Rowan can set the table if you don’t feel like hearing us talk.”

She gave him a brilliant smile, which he scowled at, but Rowan indeed clapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder and led him from the room.

“Are you still close with Aedion? How is he?”

Elide asked, perching on one of the bar stools as Aelin refilled their wine glasses and stirred the pot of mashed potatoes on the stove.

“Yeah, he practically lives with me,” Aelin replied rolling her eyes affectionately. “He’s dating my best friend, and graduates in the spring, like me.”

“What’s he studying?” Elide asked, then added. “I thought he was older than us.”

“He is, by two years. He took a year off to find himself,” Aelin snorted, holding up air quotes. “Then he changed his major twice, which gave him a few unexpected setbacks. But he’ll have a degree in sports medicine and will be going back at some point to get his specialization in physical therapy.”

“I remember him being big into sports,” Elide nodded. “Good for him.”

“And you?” Aelin asked, leaning her elbows on the counter. “College not the path for you?”

“Oh no,” Elide said, chuckling. “I went for a few months before deciding it wasn’t for me. I started serving and making good tips, so I didn’t pursue anything else until recently. About a year ago I started getting really into pottery. I started my own little business a couple months ago, that I do for just a little extra cash and for the hell of it.”

“Really?” Aelin asked, brow raised. “That's incredible. What do you make?”

Elide opened her mouth to speak, but it was Lorcan that said. “Vases, mostly. She’s incredibly talented.”

Aelin hadn’t even heard them come back in, but as if on cue, the timer behind her went off. She turned to pull the vegetables out of the oven, but glanced back over her shoulder and Elide, who was smiling softly at Lorcan. “You’ll have to show me,” she said, setting the baking dish on a trivet. “I’d love to buy one.”

Elide’s smile was almost as radiant as she was.

“Okay. No more ordering in when we come over,” Elide said, setting her fork and knife down on her nearly empty plate. “You’re cooking from now on, Rowan.”

Everything had been delicious, even if the potatoes had been instant. Rowan was pretty damn proud of himself. “Aelin helped,” he said, his hand finding her knee under the table.

“Then you better keep her, because that was delicious and take out isn’t going to cut it anymore.” Elide sipped from her wine and winked at Aelin from across the table.

“Even I can’t protest that,” Lorcan said, throwing his arm around the back of Elides chair.

“And I didn’t help that much,” Aelin said, holding her hands up. “Rowan started cooking this afternoon. I just put veggies in the oven.”

“Well, either way, it means Lor and I are on clean up duty. You two go relax,” Elide said, and rose, beginning to pick up plates.

Lorcan groaned but followed his girlfriend’s lead, nonetheless.

Aelin laughed quietly as she took Rowan’s hand and pulled him into the living room.

“I like the hold she has over him,” Aelin said, once they were alone. “It’s inspiring.”

Rowan hummed as he put an arm around her and pulled her against his side. “That’s a great way to describe Elide. Inspiring.”

Aelin thought of the murky memories she had of the young girl. She’d moved to Perranth right around the time Aelin’s own parents had died. Sadly, that move had been prompted by the same reason. Elide’s parents had also passed and her uncle had received full guardianship of her, and he lived in Perranth. Rather than uproot his life, he decided to uproot Elide’s. She had been too young for a cell phone, so there had been no way to stay in touch at the time, but Aelin was glad to see her back in Orynth. She was sure Aedion would be happy to hear about it, too.

“I think she likes you,” Rowan murmured, his lips by her ear.

Her laughter was soft as she rested her head against his shoulder. “I’d hope so. She’s known me since we were children.”

Rowan scoffed. “That means nothing. I’ve known

Lorcan since we were children and half the time

I hate him.”

Aelin’s head fell back as she laughed a little louder. “Well, that’s understandable. But me? I’m a peach.”

“Yeah, you are,” he whispered, and kissed her, softly. She held onto him a little bit tighter, and she couldn’t help but think how perfectly the night had gone.

If only the people who currently knew about their relationship would be the only people that knew about their relationship, Aelin wouldn't mind it. At least, not for a while.

“Elide was right, though,” Aelin muttered. “Your food is delicious. I’m continuously impressed by you.”

He shook his head and laughed quietly. “Thank the Internet. I can just follow directions well.”

The two fell into silence as they listened to Lorcan and Elide’s banter from the kitchen, and Aelin couldn’t help but laugh. It was clear they had been together for a while, with how comfortable they were, and Aelin was happy for them, if not a little bit jealous. She knew it was something that couldn’t be rushed, but feeling like that with someone, like that someone was home, was something she hadn’t experienced in a while.

“He’a different around her,” Aelin quietly mused as Lorcan’s deep rumble of laughter reached them from the other room.

Rowan nodded slowly. “Their story isn’t mine to tell, but… He helped her out of a dark place, but she also saved him, in her own way.”

She understood that. Hopefully, she and Elide would become close enough that she’d feel like she could open up to her.

It’d be nice to have another girlfriend, like Lysandra.

“You should come over one night this week,” Aelin said, looking up into his face. “So you can get to know Aedion and Lysandra.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “I think Lysandra and I got a good start on that in class.”

Aelin grinned as she framed his face with her hands. “She’s a little extra, but so am I, so you shouldn’t mind that too much.”

Rowan scrunched his nose but sighed. “I guess that would be fine…considering they already know about us.”

“Kind of hard to hide from my best friend and roommate,” Aelin muttered. “And obnoxious cousin.”

“We could always go up north for a weekend, too,” Rowan suggested. “With Lor, Elide, and Lysandra and your cousin. I have a cabin there.”

“Of course you do.” Aelin rolled her eyes. “Spoiled, rotten rich kid.”

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes, but before she could ask about it, or even begin to apologize, Elide was sweeping into the room. “Dinner is all cleaned up and I still have room for dessert. Anyone else?”

“Depends on what it is,” Rowan smirked, his arm still around Aelin. That hurt was gone and Aelin wondered if she’d imagined it. “Not your attempt at a crockpot apple pie again, is it?”

“That was one time and had too little liquid. My crockpot was too large,” she huffed, but crossed her arms. “It’s a triple chocolate cake, actually.”

Aelin’s interest was immediately piqued. “Oh, there’s always room for chocolate cake.”

Elide grinned and took her hand, pulling her off the couch and into the kitchen. Lorcan took a seat on the other side of the couch and sighed.

“The two of them together is terrifying.”

Rowan smiled. He was sure they could get into some trouble, but it was nothing he and Lorcan wouldn’t be able to handle.

He was happy, he realized, trying to shove back the dark memories he’d accidentally dredged up. He was happier than he’d been in years, and Aelin was the reason.

He just prayed nothing happened to end that happiness.

#tempting the fates #snacmc ttf #rowaelin ttf #throne of glass #rowaelin #snacmc collab

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westcoastrry · 4 years ago

Text

Can’t Help If This Is Us

Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.

Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!

literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.

WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.

I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words

A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.

Fuck me like you wanna make love

Call me when you wanna stay in touch

Lie together just to gain trust

Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us

Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.

It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.

She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?

“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.

Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?

“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.

“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.

Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.

Only real men drink black coffee.

She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”

“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.

“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”

“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.

Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.

Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.

“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”

Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.

Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.

Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.

“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.

“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.

“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”

“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”

“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”

“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.

“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.

“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”

Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”

“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”

“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”

Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”

Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.

It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.

The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.

It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.

And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.

Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.

So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.

+++

The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.

“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”

“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”

“I believe in you! Now go!”

Knock

It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.

Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.

Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.

Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”

“You just came here to bring me flowers?”

“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.

Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.

She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.

Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.

“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”

Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.

Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.

Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.

“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”

“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”

Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.

Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”

“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.

Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.

She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.

“Kiara?”

That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.

Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.

Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”

“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Who told you that,” Harry counters.

Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.

“I thought you were into blonde models?”

“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.

“Google.”

Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”

“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”

Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.

Killing two birds with one stone.

Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.

If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.

“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”

“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.

“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”

Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”

However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.

“Kiara-”

“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”

Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.

Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.

“You want this,” Harry whispers.

“I need this,” Kiara responds back.

“Tell me what you need Kiara.”

Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.

“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.

With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.

“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”

“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.

“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.

“I can handle it.”

“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.

“Mhmm, yes please.”

Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.

“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”

“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”

“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”

Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.

“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.

Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.

“M’mmm. A little higher please?”

Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.

“Here? Is this good?”

“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.

“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”

Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.

He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.

“Stay still love.”

“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Why don’t you ask to cum?”

Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”

“You are if you wanna be good for me.”

“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”

Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”

“So what?” Harry asks her.

“Dominant.”

“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”

“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.

Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.

“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“No.”

Smack.

“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”

Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”

Smack.

The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.

It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.

“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.

“Say sorry.”

“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”

Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”

“Yes please.”

Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”

Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.

Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”

Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.

Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.

“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”

Kiara nods her head.

“Verbal consent Kiara.”

“Yes please.”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.

Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.

“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”

When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.

“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.

When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.

Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”

Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.

“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.

Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.

For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.

Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.

And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.

Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.

“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”

“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.

Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.

“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.

“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.

“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.

“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”

“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.

Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.

“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.

Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.

“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.

Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.

Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”

Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”

Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.

Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.

“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”

Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.

He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.

“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.

Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.

Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.

“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.

“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.

Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.

Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth

“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.

“I will. But let me suck you off first.”

Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.

Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.

He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.

“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”

She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.

“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”

Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.

“Yeah I can.”

“Well what are you waiting for?”

Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.

Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.

“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”

Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.

Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.

“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”

“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.

“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”

“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.

“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”

Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”

Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”

“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.

Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.

Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.

“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”

Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.

This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.

Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.

“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”

Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.

Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.

Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.

How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.

He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.

“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.

“I didn’t use a condom.”

“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.

Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”

“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”

Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.

“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”

“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”

There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.

“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”

“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”

“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”

“Water would be great.”

Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.

Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.

Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”

Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”

“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”

“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”

Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.

“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.

“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”

Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”

Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.

“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”

“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”

“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”

Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”

“What brought you to New York then?”

“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”

“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”

There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”

“I want you to stay the night.”

Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.

“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.

+++

Harry is awake before Kiara.

Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.

However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.

Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.

He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.

Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.

“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”

Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”

Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.

Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”

“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.

Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.

He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.

And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.

“I-”

Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.

“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”

Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.

Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.

The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.

“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.

Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”

“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.

“Are you mad?”

Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.

“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.

“You’re crying, Kiara.”

“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”

That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.

Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”

Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.

+++

“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.

Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.

“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.

“You're joking.”

“Nope. Pass me your purse.”

Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.

“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”

“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”

“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”

Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”

“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”

“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”

“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”

“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”

“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.

Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.

“Let me take you out drinking after work.”

Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”

+++

While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.

There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.

Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.

And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.

Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?

+++

When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).

The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).

Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.

The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”

“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.

Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”

“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”

Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”

The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.

Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”

“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”

She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.

The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.

“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.

“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”

Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.

“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”

“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”

Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”

“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”

“Yes. He works for Harry.”

Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.

“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.

“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”

Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”

“Kiara? Trina?”

Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.

He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.

“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.

Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”

“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”

Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.

“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”

“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.

Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”

“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”

“Trina please.”

It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.

Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”

Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”

“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.

“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”

“He always seems so tense.”

Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”

“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.

Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”

“What? I thought things were going great!”

“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”

“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”

“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”

“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”

Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”

“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”

Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”

“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”

“I can tell you that's not Harry.”

“Am I ready for this?”

Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”

“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”

Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.

“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”

“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”

“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.

“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.

“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”

“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”

“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.

“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”

Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”

“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”

Slap

Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.

“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.

He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”

“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”

“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”

“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.

Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.

“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”

“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”

“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”

Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.

“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.

“Dorian, you need to go.”

“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”

“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”

“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”

“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”

“You don’t want to test me boy--”

“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”

Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”

Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”

“What just happened?” Kiara questions.

“Trina just take her to the car.”

+++

The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.

“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.

Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”

“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.

“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”

“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”

Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”

+++

Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.

“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”

Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.

He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry’s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.

“Wine makes me horny.”

“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”

“Why was that guy asking you for money?”

“Asking me anything but that.”

“Okay. Did you mean it?”

Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”

“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”

Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”

Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”

“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”

“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”

Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.

“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.

“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”

“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”

“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”

“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”

“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.

“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”

“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”

Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”

“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”

Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”

“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”

“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.

“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”

Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”

Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”

“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”

Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.

Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.

He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #haryr styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #mafia!harry #harry styles mafia #harry styles x oc #harry styles x woc #harrystyles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #ha

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insomnishnik · 4 years ago

Text

pairing : obsessive! dom eren x god complex reader *wink* *wonk*

rating : smut, 18+, fluff, crack (?)

wc : 53k

cw : degradation, choking, semi public sex, art student! eren, cockwarming, pussy spanking, mention of bruises and injuries, breeding kink ish, obsessive behavior, stalking, borderline yandere 😁 also pliz I'm new so if this bad lemme know

summary : at the very end of graduation, it's time to say goodbye, college is over, now off to the real world. But before the farewell, you as the student president arrange the one last time after party as a sweet goodbye message, little do you know eren have other plan.

“DO WE HAVE TO?” you murmured as Hitch pushed your back while both of stepping inside of a coffee shop. Fragrance of coffee bean, vanilla air freshener wafted to your nose, the comforting wooden minimalist arabica design greeted your eyes for its pleasing aesthetic scenery.

"Yes, we have to i mean how bad could it be?" she grinned, pulling your arm to her clutches while both of you scoured inside, "besides, the past must stay as the past, it was just a silly president election it's not like he would hold grudges against you for getting elected," she continued, referring to the big college event far ago before the senior year.

That one time when you and Eren Jaeger applied to be the student council president, and like how history spoke, the winner rejoiced, and nobody really care about what happens next to the loser. It was a though fight, you were quite determined to take that core position with your persona, you believed that you could bring greater goods for the community, and you DID do good, but Eren fought back passionately, and you remembered you could see fire in his eyes during his speech at the debate election, he may not smart but he's clever, maybe a little aggressive but hell does he moved so many people's heart, you remembered when he was standing tall and brave on that podium while his sea green eyes glued the room together, the intimacy that is fiery and optimistic, but as the whole world know destiny said otherwise, without your own anticipation

you won.

And since then your reign begun. You rule well, you made plenty achievements as student president and you never been so proud of yourself, since then you never lose your dedication for your people, and the feel of being a victor, and oh how you loved the feel of being powerful.

You and Hitch walked upstairs to the second loft of the coffee shop after you both ordered the drinks you wanted, "I dunno Hitch, i don't think that this is a good idea," you mumbled to the girl next to you, while you scratching the back of your ear, "when Armin said not to mess with Eren i think he meant it."

Sure you were delighted with your victory, but you still couldn't help yourself to feel bad for Eren, there's this strange tingle of guilt vine your stomach when you, the possessor approached your ex rival far a month ago, he gave you this bitter dirty look as you waved him a polite good morning, then he stormed off without a single word, you felt like he was prestige to look into your eyes since then.

"And when i said he was a wuss, and a man child for going all off emo after that election i also meant it," Hitch rolled her eyes, she pat your back as a reassurance before you two finally found the person you've been looking for, almost unrecognizable from the last time you guys bumped to each other, for a moment your eyes widened to the now Eren Jaeger.

There he was sitting all pretty at the smoking area, his hair was pulled onto a messy bun with a few loose strands on his nape, he was far more built than the boy you used to know, his bushy eyebrows looking furrowed to a sketchbook, the charcoal pencil he's holding dances on top of it. He was styled in a thin knitted black long sleeve top that hugged his muscular body tightly, army green cargo pants, and combat boots — you know, those kind of boots you wear to a rock concert just to kick someone — his rolled sleeves, revealing his veiny arms that covered with tattoos. His long legs is stretched to the chair next to him while he is leaning against the wall.

Hitch glanced at you, she cackled noticing you googling at Eren, she pulled you by your wrist approaching the brunet, "you'll be fine," she snickered, while you could only let out a soft sigh, here goes nothing.

Hitch signal her presence to Eren with a light cough, a small thud hit the surface of his sketchbook after he dropped his pencil. His gaze shifts to both of you who were standing by his side, he raised his left brow when his eyes met yours, you stared back at Eren and he outstared you blankly, "Jaeger," you hesitated.

About time you finally came to me.

"Y/N," he replied, calling you by your first name. His expression never change, they're rather cold, unimpressed, he studied both of you, then back to you, he lift his chin up as he locked his eyes on you, "you brought a friend." Intruder, he finally said after a brief silence, Eren closed his sketchbook and then cracked his knuckles, Hitch pulled you, taking a seat in front of Eren.

"Now let's skip the chit chat, because by the way Eren, you smells musty," Hitch waved her hand in front of her face, she's not wrong though, he smells like tobacco and axe body spray. Furthermore when Hitch explained the reasons of hers and yours arrival to Eren, his gaze never really left you, sometimes he would spare Hitch small glances and nods as confirmation of himself still listening, but his attention was on you.

And you willingly stares back, you still couldn't read his expression, they're as calm as the morning blue sky, they're just so empty it sucks you in, maybe it's the blunt hatred and envy from him for your presidential position, or maybe it was something else, you even almost think that you two are basically eye fucking each other.

You extended him the proposal and the selected material details to him, it's almost graduation, and you're running out of time to find someone who could make an exclusive design for the jackets you are planning to make as a gift for the after party event. The other councilor members and you also haven't decide the theme yet, it has to be perfect. Your last hope is Eren, the fine arts student all the girls in school droll over, even though his charisma was slightly dimmed after his loss at the election, he still got his charm, and you really prayed to Goddess Fortuna because you don't want to risk looking for someone else to customize this specific special item and just to get disappoint by the erratic result, at least when Eren agree to take the work, someone could watch over.

"No fucking way," Eren let out a smug chortled, "the president needs my help," he added in a sneering tone. Cute.

"So you agree or not Eren," you try to suppress your nerve, and you really try not to punch his cocky face, the way he throw his head back a little so he gave you this kind of kubrick stare, gazing into your soul as if he wants to eat you alive, and just like they said, if looks could kill, you're probably be ripped apart by now.

"What if i say no?" he continued, tapping his boot's toe on the wooden floor.

"You'll waste your talent," you gift a thin smile that hides a very big urge to stab him repeatedly.

Eren chuckled, he looked away towards the window before he lean forward to you, "What happen to the other art students, L/N? Did they finally acknowledge your overly perfectionist bossy self or what?"

"And what about it?" you argued, leaning to his face, he wanted to humiliate you, he wanted you to get on your knees and beg, but you still have your dignity.

"Uh, what is this," Hitch hesitated, "i am highly uncomfortable with the atmosphere we created in this room," what's with the eye fucking? Hitch thought, she felt like she's interrupting a really heated make out session but instead of kissing it was exchanging pure hatred, Hitch nudged you by your elbow, giving you a look.

You gritted your teeth and pursed your lips together, leaning closer to Eren's face, "Alright, if this is about that stupid president election we had together grow up Eren! The world doesn't evolve in your stupid drama queen head, so please since i'm asking you nicely before i could fu-" You stopped your bust as a waitress came over with the drinks you ordered earlier, you glared angrily at Eren as you caught a tug of amused smirk at the corner of his lips, it was the fact that you desperately needs his help but still play all bitchy, he found it funny.

Sure you have your dignity, and he is willing to destroy it just because he can.

After the waitress left, you tasted your fresh latte angrily, making Eren chuckled under his husky breath, while on the other side Hitch is silently witnessing the tense between you two.

"Fine," Eren broke the silence after a few minutes since the waitress left, "i'll take the work." he sat up, you nodded and watched as that key necklace of his dangling out from his collar, and when your eyes laid on the toned chest that peaking under his shirt, you gulped your saliva and quickly looked away, "good, thank you for your understanding."

You clasps your hands together and you could hear Hitch's faint sigh of relief, "great so now i think we have our deal, you know Professor Levi's tea shop right? tomorrow we're doing a gathering, be there before 8, and if-"

who says that i'm finished doll? Eren tug another smirk, "but with some condition."

⊱✿⊰

"For real? No party organizer available until next January?" you groaned in frustration, frantically flipping through pages of your journal, Hitch and Armin walks by your side to the long table area.

Chaos.

Chaos everywhere, you feel like your head is going to explode, your blood boils, and there's this uncomfortable anxiety under your skin, crippling under you and devouring you slowly. You've been overworked yourself the entire night after your meeting with Eren, you were brainstorming for your graduation speech, activity recap, and of course other ornaments for the very last project you're having in your senior year, you cried for three hours while listening to montgomery ricky then cried again over the document you accidentally deleted.

You're exhausted.

Mentally and physically, you woke up with puffy eyes and wrecked brain, but you knew that everything must go on, and no, you won't back down, everything has to be perfect,

It has to be perfect.

Hitch pouted as she watches you typing on your laptop, she snakes her arms around your waist and leaned her head against your shoulder, watching you making some kind of budget recap, "sweetie you should rest and lay down." She spoke with a soft smile.

You pursed your lips together before you leaned your head on top of hers, not leaving your eyes from your laptop, "thanks Hitch, but i'm alright, i'll just finish this and i'll take a break for a bit." You just can't really trust anything without yourself being under control or watching over, you're afraid that everything would astray far from your definition of 'perfection,' this empire you've been building, and this is your last legacy the next generation will remember, and you wanted it to be remarkable.

"No dumbass, the last catering service was too expensive and apparently our university was filled with cheapskates." argued a voice from across the room.

"Well we have no choice???" other voice argued back, "Or we can rely on your very bad cooking skill Kirstein, just pray nobody's gonna die from food poisoning."

You huffed at the sight of Ymir and Jean who was sitting face to face on the floor, both are on their phone scrolling on google, you looked around and found Sasha, Marco and Connie, chatting across you, and you looked over to the three people next to you, your vice president Hitch, your treasurer Armin, and your secretary Mikasa. You couldn't help yourself but smiling at your team, they works so well.

Then you frowned as your realized something, "Have Eren-"

A short blonde girl with a tray of drinks and snacks entered the room, "Y'all snack time!" she called out with a large grin on her face.

Ymir's face lit up as she walked up to her girlfriend, Sasha sprinted towards Historia, going feral over food as usual.

"Ugh finally," you chuckled to Jean's mumble. Soon, half of the room crowded the blonde girl, reaching for snacks and drinks, your eyes fixated as you slowly notice the presence of the familiar sea green eyes, you watches as Eren strolls inside of the meeting room, he yawned before he took a seat on Hitch's place, your frowned slightly, "excuse you?"

"Excuse me?" he replied, plastering that damn cocky smile, he looked to you up and down, definitely mocking you under his degrading gaze, dammit y/n did you overworked yourself?

"Well have you look at yourself, President." he snickered, suddenly a sketch design laid in front of you, you shift your eyes to Eren, before you took the papers on your hands. Soft grazes of colored pencil and ink, the art was delicate yet firm, "what is this?" you asked dumbly to the design of two bomber jackets, each of the jackets has their own scrawled side notes of the color details, embroidery, and even fabric material.

"Both jacket will be make from satin, no argument, satin," Eren spoke, he pointed his polished finger nail to the design, "the girls will have the yellow one, the boys will take the red, it'll have our Uni symbol and our number," he explained, "should be ready as soon as possible," Eren watches you closely, waiting for you to say something. Part of him.....just wants you to react, just anything, just any reaction exclusively for him.

You blinked slowly, wow. Honestly it's beautiful, looks like it was Harajuku style inspired, you can't wait to touch the final craft, you glanced at Eren, "thank you," you spoke finally, "it's really beautiful."

I'm glad you like it. "Of course it's beautiful, i made it," he replied with a smug face, he cracked his knuckles then tapped his fingers to the wooden table, "now now, what do we have here."

It was part of Eren's condition. One, he wanted to be fully involved in the graduation ceremony prep and the after party. Two, most importantly nobody touch his creation while he have full control of it, you reluctantly gave him the responsiblity to handle the venue decoration and the theme, most of the people in your team weren't really pleased with that decision, but like you all have time to think? But after considering it, you felt like it would be good idea to have extra hands helping.

Anything,

To reach the absolute perfection.

⊱✿⊰

"I'm so glad, that this is almost over, because i could not bear drinking another monster and espresso or i might get caffeine intoxication," you grinned as you earned chuckles through the dinner table, it was all paid off, and the grand event was right in front of your eyes, you could already imagine yourself standing on that podium, delivering your grand speech, high and god like.

But now, celebration first.

The admiration looks from your team and the last year student council team — who decided to join for the gig — feeds your ego, there's Zeke, Nicolo, Reiner, Pieck and her girlfriend Yelena, Porco and Bertholdt. Your friends really look up to you, from the day you earned your position, they knew they could count on you. "Thank you, thank you for all of the hard works this season, i would never ask for a better team, you guys are the best that i could ever wished for," you grinned and picked up the can of beer from the table, everybody raises their drinks, and you looked at the edge of the table, where your graduated senior, Zeke Jaeger sitting down, giving you a proud look, he was a student president before you, "this is for everyone, our community has never been this great, because you all dedicated your hearts." As you cheers together, you looked around, something is missing, you can feel it, yet you can't find any solid answer for that feeling.

It was a simple outdoor Korean barbecue party in your house's backyard, after all done, you wanted nothing but to treat your friends, because that's what they deserved for serving you right. It was returning favor, while waiting for the meat to be cook perfectly by your senior Nicolo, you sat besides Mikasa as you both chats, while Armin was next to her, busy with his phone. In the distance, chaotic guitar strums and jams from drunk Connie and Jean cracking the air together with everyone that hyping them up. You pressed your chin against Mikasa's shoulder while both of you giggling over a twitter thread.

"Eren said he's coming over," Armin announced to both of you, he looked down to his phone and let out a heavy sigh.

So that was the missing piece.

"Why's the sigh?" you asked Armin.

Armin hesitated, he looked around everywhere that isn't you, he rubbed his hand through his undercut, it feels like watching someone having a very conflicted mind war with themself, he then finally impaled you with a mixed expression, "Y/N," he started, "i don't know how to say this but....." He glanced over at Mikasa, and you followed him.

The dark haired girl rather gave him a surprised expression, a some kind of you did not! look. You exchanged the utterly confusion to both of them, Mikasa nodded slowly, "She needs to know, Armin."

"I need to know what?"

"What are you guys talking about?" you turned around and sees Eren standing right in front of you, bruised up and bleeding, his knuckles was fucked in a shade of dark red and purple, strands of hair falling in front of his face, Mikasa quickly stood up, "Eren did you—"

"Yes i did," he shot her a cold glare, you could see from the corner of your eyes that Zeke started to approaching, Eren's eyes then finally found Armin, who's looking scared and nervous more than ever, "tell me, what's the interesting story Armin?" his tone was striking and icy, under his husky voice, you could track hints of slurs because of alcohol.

Armin went quiet, he gripped his knuckles, what is this? something must happened and you didn't know, and you hated that. You hated when things was out of your reach. "It's okay Eren, you should check your wounds, they look pretty bad," Armin swallowed, his words came out more threatening than he anticipated.

"No, no, no, i wanted to know what you gonna say to Y/N," Eren moves closer to Armin, "you are not trying to tell her anything bad about me right?"

They looked like they're ready to throw hands, but Zeke was already slips between them, holding the both boys's chests with his flat palms, "come on now guys, let's not." he hesitated.

"No, let's." Eren insisted, he slapped his brother's hand, you quickly pulled him down by his arm, he flinched when he felt your touch, Eren glance at you, and for a split second his eyes went soft, it was that soft that you felt nothing but pure affection from his sea green eyes, then something took over his body, he suddenly pulled you by your collar, lifting you up, moving your face closer to his.

His eyes were bloodshot, you squeezed his wrists while kicking your feet on the air, "you," he growled, his warm breath smells like alcohol, you blinked slowly, scanning Eren's animalistic glare, but there is no hate in his eyes, you found yourself trying to look for it but there it none, instead there's this raging desire, he looked at you like you were his prey, "Eren-" you choked, for the first time, you feel powerless.

"I hate you," he hissed, but all you could sense was lie, his mortal fingers squeezing you so deadly but you feel the comfort of it, the bizarrely embracing lust, and his existence blurs all the noises around you, just you and Eren Jaeger. "you took everything from you," he continued, "i woke up everyday wishing you dead."

You knitted your eyebrows, and you feel your godly ichor rushes back through your veins, a disgusted smirk appeared on your face, belittling him for lying, "liar."

Then huge arms pulled Eren from you, tackling him to the ground, Mikasa caught you before you hit the ground, Hitch stepped in front of you, shielding you from Eren who was struggling under Zeke, "Eren what the hell!" she shouted. Mikasa helped you up and pulled you close to her chest, "Y/N are you okay?" she sounded so scared, questions and assumptions popping in your head about what happens between Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. You looked up, finding Reiner helping Zeke restraining his own brother. You knew a minute ago that guy attacked you, but seeing Eren in that position just feels so wrong, you never thought you'll get drew by a guy like Eren Jaeger, but here you are finding yourself shoving aside your pride while approaching the two blonds. You put your hand on Zeke's shoulder, squeezing them gently, "it's okay," your delicate tone shocks him, "let him go Zeke."

You could feel everyone giving you a jaw drop, but when all eyes on you, you find yourself only looking at Eren.

After a tense moment, Zeke and Reiner finally let go of the brunet, you pulled Eren up then you put the tip of your fingers to his chin, examining his wounds, he scoffed and avoided your eyes, dropping his eyes to the ground. "Let's get that clean up," you mumbled and dragged him by his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Leaving everyone in a ambiguous silence.

"Why are they leaving? the wagyu is ready."

You walked upstairs to your room, no words exchange both of you before you finally entered the bathroom with Eren, you let go of his hand, your heartbeat strangely skipping inside your chest, while you were searching for the medicine kit in the cabinet, when you finally turn around, you found Eren already sitting on the toilet seat, you kneeled down in front of him and you opened the medicine kit, you pulled a towel from the drawer and stood up, wetting it in the sink, "what happen?" you finally spoke.

Eren let out a deep chuckle, he wiped his bloody nose with his thumb then wiped it off on his jeans, gross. "Why do you care," he asserted.

You rolled your eyes and kneeled back in front of him, with dripping wet cloth on your right hand, "please you stormed on me, lifted me up and looked at me like you wanted fuck me against the table while also wanted to burn me alive at the same time." you gave him a judging look. You took his hands, and then slowly pressed the dampen cloth on his bloody knuckles, he didn't flinch, Eren remained silence while he watches you. You could feel his smirk while you were treating his wounds. "Have i told you how hideous you look tonight?" he asked quietly.

"No, tell me."

Eren then moved his left hand away from you, extending them, he caressed his thumb on your cheekbone, made you froze, his hand then traveled to your ear, it tugged your hair behind them, "i cannot." He whispered softly.

You looked up, and put the now reddish cloth on the floor, you moved closer to the burnet in front of you, you intertwined your fingers with his once again, the tense on his shoulders visibly relax while his pupils widened to the presence of you, "now would you tell me what happen?" your voice sweetened, melodic in his ear, and it seems like he's lured enough by it.

Eren huffed a chuckle, he looked down to both of your hands, "Had a fight with Pops," he shrugged, "took the anger on the wall." You moved closer to his face, close enough to smell the liquor in his breath. Eren stared at you, he never imagine he would have the blessing to be this close with you, he was always watching you from afar. Those interrogation towards Armin regarding you, questions after questions on your personal life, forcing Armin to dug deeper and helped Eren fulfilling his needs on you, he'd followed you after school, to your favorite coffee shop, your home so he'll know your address, to where ever he could reach you, man... he'll go after you to the edge of the world if that's where you're heading.

"Do you still hate me?" you asked, and to be honest the question kind of scares you, because after these past few weeks of spending more time with Eren Jaeger, you finally caught in his fire, his flaming intimacy you thought was long gone, and you also surprises yourself for not getting pissed off by the feeling, because it makes you feel vulnerable.

Eren grazes his thumb on your jaw as if you were made of glass, he kneeled down to the floor with you, so you both could be equal, no high ground. "The truth is my darling, i never was," he confirmed, "after you won that election it was my last straw because from the first time i laid my eyes on you, Love.... You have bewitched me body and soul," he's been watching over you from the distance and you still as pathetic as he could remember, maybe it's the way you stole glances at him, the way you would secretly checking him out but little did you know that he notices everything, he's been reading you like an open book without having to flip through every pages, because you already spread open for him, "you have became the very thing that is out of my reach, Love. And for i have fancy you, and you'll be mine not just in my mind but fully," and he is itching to taste you. His warmth envelopes you to a sense of safety, he trails his hands to your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you melt like a candle on fire. Right above you stand an entity greater than yourself, the essence of mystery that fold itself in front of you, and with the universe speak between you, everything is a clarity.

And you, you don't get it, you thought it was all envy to the position you have, and for the first time, you crave something other than power, "Did you just quoted Pride and Prejudice for me, Jaeger?" you snakes your arms around his neck while his growing bulge strokes on your clothed cunt, the rough material of his jeans made your arousal grow thicker, "my, my, my i used to think that you were just a pretty face with zero common sense," you teased, nuzzling your nose against him.

His husky chuckle vibrates against your skin, without warning he pushes you up against the wall and you immediately jumped onto his waist with your legs, you gasped as your back hit the cold surface, Eren kneading your butt cheeks as he was holding you up, his chest pressed on yours, warm breath mixes together, "ouch, did you just call me dumb?" you snickered, Eren tilts his head before he smirked, "maybe we could be equally dumb after i make you babble nonsense with my cock." His mouth devouring yours feverishly. Frantic gestures rid you and him of clothes on your body, while you helped Eren unbuckling his belt, his teeth grazes yours, tongues fighting for dominance with each other, he latched his lips onto yours, hungry for more taste, you started to sucking his bottom lip while Eren savor your taste, he pushes more for a deeper kiss, his hand fondling your clothed boob, then it slipped under them, as he found your stiffened nipple, you felt his smirk between your kiss, and a moan escaped from your lips, they're already swollen and you knew you needed air soon, but without your realizing, you already breath through his air through the kiss.

You unhooked your bra while Eren pressed you harder against the wall, his cock was already free from his jeans and boxer, his beautiful tip was coated in precum, when you finally exposed your breasts in front of him, the animalistic side possessed him back, Eren kneads your breasts greedily causing you to mewl, shivers running down your spine, and you unconsciously grinds you drenched cunt against his waist, Eren cackled.

"What a fucking whore, you looked like a cat in heat."

You whined when his flat palm hit your cunt, he rubs the dampen clothed surface of your clit, Eren brought his mouth to your breast and started to circling his tongue on your nipple, making your back arched and you grinding to nothingness of his waist, "whore," he spat, a string of saliva bridge between your skin and his lips, "is this what you called a student president? i don't think so." Eren grip your throat and slowly adding pressure to your air circulation with his index finger and thumb, his other hand has been stroking his own cock for awhile, he uses his precum as lube and your eyes twinkled to the beautiful sight.

Your lips parted, he let out a throaty groan to your ear just to tease you, "what if i just jack myself and leave you like this?" the menacing grin appeared on his face, your desperate look just pleased him even more, he groaned under his breath as he feeling himself twitching, and your drooling pussy just looking tastier than ever, Eren inhaled and faked a pout, "aw, what is it? don't you want to walk around with my cum dripping from your slutty hole aren't you? that is sinful my Love, won't it gonna stain your pride, Miss President?"

You cursed under you breath, and another slap landed on your cunt, you threw your head back as Eren squeezed you against the wall, "nu uh, bad words," he growled, "what do you want, Y/N? Use your fucking mouth if you want something, did your parents never tell you?" another hard slap on your cunt made you gasp, you cried louder, and Eren shushed you while peppering kiss on your naked shoulder, "careful darling they might hear you from downstairs."

He pecked your nose before he finally aims his cock to your entrance, stroking his tip to your dripping cunt, "what do you want, Y/N? say it." He repeated.

"Your cock!" you whimpered, "please pound me with your cock.... please Eren.. i just want it inside.."

He slammed into you, causing you to let out a sharp noise, "Oh, like this?" Eren felt your soft warm walls hugging him so tightly, as if you guys just fit so perfectly together, he held his hand on your tummy to prevent you from grinding your greedy self, letting your cunt clenching him by itself, "fuck you're so tight my Love," he groaned subtly.

"E-eren please move..... i'm begging you...." you sobbed so pathetically. Eren moved his face close to yours and pinned your wrists above your head, "this will need an outcome don't you think?" he tilted his head, making you wept for his cock to move even more, suddenly an idea popped in his head, "I will move," he said, "i'll shoot my loads in you and then you'll be mine, i want you to want me so badly, i'm going to imprison you, and then.... just then...it'll be just you and me, always and forever," he dug his face on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent so they'll stay in his head, but he knew it won't, you're his own personal drug anyways, "promise, Darling?" Eren whispered against your skin.

You shivered under him, your eyes rolls at the back of your head, your pussy is aching with lust, so needy for his cock. You quickly nodded your head, "p-promise."

Eren kissed your neck, sucking them briefly, leaving a visible mark on your soft skin, "good girl."

He pulled his cock from you, leaving just the tip, before then he impaled, filling you up with his length, he slide so easily onto your meat, your legs shivered as he endlessly pushed deeper inside you, and you could feel his tip kissed your cervix, Eren then started to moves at a quick pace, "you like that so much hm? taking my cock like a little slut," he said velvety, turning you on even more. He buried your moan into a deep kiss, his big arm scoot your hips close to him as he ramming his cock with no mercy onto your walls, his other hand still pinning your wrists, as if you're gonna escape from him. You started to rolling your hips on him, making him move more faster, you're both skin to skin, grinding onto each other desperately, "Eren....s'big...so deep..." you moaned. He continues to pound into you.

"Fuck, that's right baby say my name."

"Eren!"

After a minute he completely stopped, you opened your eyes and your face shows confusion, before you could ask any questions, he suddenly slams all of his length into you, causing you to yelp both in pain and pleasure, the lewd sound of skin slapping made you curl your toes, he pounding into you like there's no tomorrow, you threw your head back, your tongue lolling out from your lips, he slamming all his length in and out of you repeatedly until you're a shaking panting mess, an amused look plastered on his cocky face, and his hips didn't stop dipping on you, not letting you think straight or put up any fight, "come on, fucking take it like the cumslut you are."

You choked on your breath as the knot in your stomach getting tighter, "E-ren... hugs...hugs....?" you purred to him, he finally let go of your wrists and let your head fell against his shoulder, he increases his phase that you didn't know was possible, you warped your arms around him as he did to you, and you dragged your nails through his sweaty back, Eren started to whisper sweet nothings as he felt himself twitching, he slurred curses underneath his groaned, his veins popped as he gripped you tightly, his muscles flexes at each moves.

You didn't dare to question him when he said that he'll fill you up inside, because no matter what your answer is, he'll do it anyway. The sight of his hard rock abs and v lines sent you over the edge, “Eren i’m gonna cum—“

“cum with me, Darling.”

You tasted the bitter tint in your tongue as you started seeing stars, you vision went black as Eren rides you to your orgasm while fluid started dripping down your thighs, your body is shaking uncontrollably, Eren let out a loud groan as he riding himself to his own high using your abused cunt, he shot his warm thick load onto your womb, making sure you take all of it, you buried your face on his neck, he slowly pulls out his cock and watches the white liquid oozing from your hole. Eren lifted up your chin, he cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, mixing your pants together, “mine.” he moaned to your soft plump lips.

“yours."

⊱✿⊰

#eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren jaeger x reader fluff #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger smut #attack on titan smut #aot #eren yeager #eren yaeger x reader smut #eren yeager x reader fluff #eren yeager fluff #eren yeager smut #happy birthday eren

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

Text

I'll See You Again, I Promise [Din Djarin x Reader]

!! SPOILERS FOR THE MANDALORIAN SEASON 2 FINALE. DISCRETION ADVISED. !!

Author's note: Spoilers for the Season 2 finale of the Mandalorian. Just like last time, I wrote this in three hours. The episode literally came out three hours ago. I'm so thankful for how many people liked my one shot based around last week's episode— and as promised, this is a continuation of this week's episode (the season finale). You don't have to read the previous part in order to understand this, but if you wish to read it you can find it here.

Masterlist

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth

Taglist for this part: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @dantakuart @yikesdameron @artsyzartsi @karnita-mexicana @multifandomfollower @saavikchekov @what-is-life-in-general @karnita-mexicana @pcrushinnerd @tillytheslytherin @jedinerd27 @queenofspades20

Din Djarin taglist: @alecdamndario0

gif by @cavill-henry

When you saw Din return, holding the child in one hand, and the ancient Mandalorian weapon in the other hand, relief washed over you. Your whole body deflated and you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding in.

"Where are the others?" Din asked, his voice gruff as he pushed a binded Moff Gideon to the ground. You gasped when your eyes met with the ex-ISB officer who you knew had given Din so much trauma and hurt. There was a dark and menacing glint in his eyes that you could see right through.

"With Boba on the ship. They didn't think you'd come back," you admitted sheepishly, biting your lip as you cautiously looked back up at Din. "But I believed in you." You desperately tried to search through his visor and locate his brown eyes.

You wanted to cry; your little family had been restored. Grogu had been rescued. You were once more a clan of three. And now, things could be different. You had seen the beauty that was hidden beneath the beskar. You had seen Din for who he really was. You imagined starting a new life with him and the Child, far far away and out of any danger. You could be happy. Of course, you had to deal with Moff Gideon first.

You took a step closer to Din, breaking any remaining distance and placing a hand on his chest. "I'm so glad you're safe." Din revealed with a shaky exhale as you caressed the child. You wanted nothing more than to curl up into his arms and tell him how much you loved him, how proud you were. Grogu was so lucky to have a father as loving as Din.

"We can leave now," you smiled weakly. "We can be free. Go to the lake county on Naboo and start a new life. Live in peace." You had half forgotten Moff Gideon was even there. You just wanted to live in the moment with Din. All you could see was the love of your life holding his child. Everything else in your peripheral vision was a blur. It didn't matter.

"How cute," Moff Gideon's lips curled into a snarl. "The Mandalorian has a lover? What an unexpected twist of events." Din knocked Gideon to the ground the second those malicious words left his mouth, leaving him doubled over and grumbling in pain.

"We don't have time to stick around, we have to go." Din told you, grabbing your hand and interlocking his gloved fingers with yours. You were ready. You were so ready to leave this life behind and be with Din and Grogu forever. It was the happily ever after you knew Din deserved more than anyone else in the galaxy. Before the blast doors could open, the nav system began to beep hysterically, illustrating that a single light Starfighter was boarding the same Imperial cruiser you and your little family were on.

"It's an X-Wing…" you were rendered speechless. Din considered who it might have been. Had Cara comm’d the New Republic from the ship? If so, why was it only just one fighter? Could it have been the likes of Trapper Wolf who had granted Din a favour back when he encountered trouble on the ice planet of Maldo Kreis? Din was truly clueless.

Grogu began to coo and shuffle around, prompting Din to carefully place his son on the floor. Grogu waddled over to you by the terminal, gargling and pointing his finger up at one of the screens. "What is it buddy?" you asked, leaning down and picking up Grogu. Grogu guided you to the CCTV where you saw a cloaked figure emerge from the X-Wing and ignite a lightsaber. Your heart stopped. "Din…" you said nervously, your grip tightening around Grogu defensively. "You might want to see this."

Din approached the small screen and looked closely. "A Jedi?" he asked, although it almost sounded rhetorical. He looked back at Grogu who was already staring up at him. "Did you… did you bring him here?" Din asked the child, his voice breaking slightly. Grogu made a small and indistinguishable noise in response.

"No," you placed a hand on Din's shoulder with comfort. "No, Grogu wouldn't…" you reassured him.

"The seeing stone," Din deadpanned, his gaze not tearing from his son once. He remembered Ahsoka Tano's words. "Grogu reached out with the force and if a Jedi felt his presence, they'd come looking for him," Din turned to you, his body stiff and his voice shallow. "And they've come."

Your lips parted slightly as you turned back to the screen, watching as the mysterious figure roamed through the halls of the Imperial cruiser. Part of you deep down knew that Din was right. It was the only plausable explanation, but that didn't mean you wanted it to happen. You knew it wouldn't be long until you were found.

"Din, let's go," you said with teary eyes, feeling your anxiety bubble up in your stomach. "Please Din? Can we just go."

Din clenched his fingers into a fist. "No." he said sternly, his voice returning back to being gruff and modulated. He was doing what he always did when fear consumed him. He'd shut himself out and go into hunter/protector mode. He'd become the fighter he was trained to be since he was just a young boy.

"Din." you hated the way his name fell from your tongue, sounding needy and desperate, but you were just as afraid. You didn't want to stay any longer. You had what you needed; Din and the child. You didn't need anything else. You could go now.

Din picked up Grogu and nursed him in his arms, holding him close to his chest. Just like always, Grogu curled up into his father, taking comfort in feeling his beating heart, learning the true feeling of unconditional familial love.

The blast doors shot open and the cloaked figure entered the room. Your fingers dropped to the blaster in your holster as he approached you both. The man put his lightsaber away, signifying surrender, and pulled down his hood, revealing himself. He looked slightly older than you, with pale skin with mousy brown hair. He looked like he had seen a lot in his lifetime.

"Are you a Jedi?" Din asked eventually, breaking the silence through the need of confirmation.

"Yes, my name is Luke Skywalker," he introduced with a small nod. You recognised that name… Skywalker, perhaps from old tales, the likes of myths and folk stories. You didn't spend long contemplating the mystery man's identity. There were more pressing matters at hand and so you opted to brush it off completely. "I have come for the child," Luke announced and Grogu turned from Din, his ears cocking at the mention of him and looked at the man with curiosity. "Hello little one." Luke smiled.

Grogu cooed in response before turning back to his father with big pleading eyes. "He doesn't want to go with you." Din gulped, his heart aching. There was no way to be sure, Din could never know exactly what Grogu wanted. But he was aware of the bond he had with his son, now more than ever he was aware. He knew that there was no way his son would want to leave him. Din loved Grogu. Din loved Grogu with every inch of his being.

"He wants your permission." Luke explained, and Din turned back to look at the little green bean in his arms. His… permission? "He is incredibly strong with the force and without learning how to utiIize his powers he can become a danger to those around him… and a danger to himself. It's important that he understands the nature of the power he possesses."

Luke's words became a blundered fuzz in the back of your mind. This was Grogu— this was Din's little boy. When Din looked into Grogu's eyes, he saw nothing but memories. From the pair of them sipping spotchka, to chasing frogs and playing in the hull of the Razor Crest, everything just felt so distant. Din took a deep breath, his finger softly brushing against Grogu's cheek.

"Hey go on… he's one of your kind," Din winced at his own words. One of your kind— something the Armourer had implanted in Din's head all those months ago. "I'll see you again. I promise."

You felt your heart shatter in your chest. This… wasn't meant to happen. It wasn't meant to end up like this. You wanted to speak, you wanted to say something and put a stop to this absurdity. You knew better than anyone that Din needed Grogu and Grogu needed Din. It felt like your throat had closed up, like you could hardly breathe. All you could do was stand there and watch it play out.

Grogu reached up with a small wail, his green claw tracing the curves and ridges of Din's beskar helmet.

Din knew exactly what his son wanted, and right now, Din was certain he wanted it too. Just for once, he wanted to look at his son with his own eyes. Not the eyes blinded by his visor blade, Din wanted the child to know his face. Recognise him. With a hiss and a click, Din removed his helmet. You swore your heart stopped upon seeing him again. Brown eyes, but this time they were glazed with tears and there was nothing you could do about it.

Grogu reached back up and rested his claw over Din's jaw. Subconsciously, Din leaned his cheek into Grogu's hand, never wanting to pull away from his touch. His heart was broken beyond repair.

"All right pal," Din rasped. "It's time to go." He didn't want this. He couldn't do this. But he had to. He had to be strong for his son. He had to be a good father. "Don't be afraid." Was Din's final words to his son.

He placed Grogu down carefully and nodded towards Luke, accepting his fate. Grogu clutched onto Din's leg, not wanting to let go. His little mind was racing with wonder— why can't his daddy come with him? Why must he go alone? The erratic beeps of a white and blue astromech droid were what eventually tore the curious child from his father. Grogu waddled towards the droid and Luke picked him up.

No matter how hard he tried, Din couldn't seem to swallow the lump in his throat. Everything Din had done so far had led up to the moment, and he wanted to curse himself for letting it affect him this much. He should've been prepared. It's just, he really didn't think this would happen. He really didn't think Grogu would want to leave.

He didn't blame the child of course. He could never blame the child. He just wished he understood. Just before the doors to the elevator closed, Luke spoke up. Unfazed, unbroken. "May the force be with you." he wished. Din ignored the comment. It meant nothing to him. Nothing meant anything anymore. No meaning, no purpose. Luke tapped the key that would shut the doors and Din offered his son once last nod, trying his hardest to break out an impossible smile. When the doors finally closed, Din let out a choked sob and fell to his knees.

You sprinted over to Din, kneeling down and pulling him into you. He cried, hot salty tears falling from his brown eyes and dripping down his face. You pulled his head into your lap and smoothed out his hair trying your hardest to lull him. But you couldn't. You couldn't even bring yourself to comfort him. Your shoulders curled in and you fell limp, whimpering into his hair. You felt completely broken. Grogu was like a son to you, and you cherished him so very much. You couldn't even imagine how Din was feeling.

His little family was no more but he knew that Grogu was going to go on to do bigger and better things. No matter what, Grogu was going to make Din proud.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian season 2 spoilers #the mandalorian season 2 #grogu

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svnflowervol666 · 4 years ago

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Ma Petite Chérie: Christmas Now (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Read more from this little universe, Ma Petite Chérie, in my masterlist!

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Their first Christmas as a family of four. Underwhelming gifts, naughty kitchen counter shenanigans, being suspicious of Santa Claus, baby kissies, oat milk.

Author’s Note: Baby bub is here! I’ve been so excited to finally be able to write about them, and I’m even more excited that you all get to read about them! This is the second part of my Christmas bits for this year. Unlike the last one, this one is obnoxiously adorable and no where near as upsetting (I really hurt my own feelings with that one). Reblogs, likes, tags, and feedback of any kind is always greatly appreciated! If you don’t see me before the year is up, I want to wish you a Happy New Year! Enjoy, take care, and tpwk.

“Two.”

“No. One.”

“Two.”

“One.”

“Four.”

“Now that’s just bein’ greedy,” Harry spoke in a wounded tone with his brows furrowed together as if he were genuinely offended.

“But if Santa’s coming tonight and bringing more presents, why can’t I open these ones right now?”

Tallulah was on her knees in front of the sofa, fingers laced together with her chin resting on top of them. She was quite literally begging her father, who sat above her with one leg crossed over the other and an arm slung around his wife, to allow her to open the gifts that were prematurely nestled underneath the festive fir tree in their living room. Well, they weren’t married yet, but Harry couldn’t help that he preferred how the word felt rolling off of his tongue than “fiance.”

“Because they’re Christmas presents,” he stressed.

“Makes no sense t’ open them the day before.”

His freshly six-year-old daughter clearly didn’t like that answer - the pouty jut on her lip and subsequent huff told Harry all he needed to know.

“I already told ya, sweet pea. You can open one tonight. That’s it. The rest are for tomorrow.”

“Fiiiiiine,” the small girl said, although it was implied in her tone that it very much was not.

Tallulah hobbled over to the tree whilst still on her knees, and began riffling through the small litter of perfectly wrapped boxes to inspect which one would elicit the most satisfaction on her end. She seemed keen on a rather large one, decorated with tartan print and a red gift tag that read, “To: Lulah, From: Daddy & Mummy.” What she hadn’t realized, though, was that Harry had already made the selection for her.

“Not tha’ one,” Harry reprimanded over the steaming mug of coffee in the hand that wasn’t rubbing circles on Y/N’s shoulder.

He typically strayed away from caffeine this late in the evening, but he knew he was in for a long night of waiting up until Tallulah was fast asleep so he could take on the role of Santa and deliver all of the gifts he had promised her for being good enough to make an appearance on the Nice List. Knowing how much shit he had packed in his office that stayed locked this time of year, he really wasn’t sure how he was going to do it successfully.

Another exasperated sigh left his eldest child’s lips, to which she replied, “But this one’s the biggest.”

“But it’s not the one we want yeh t’ open, Lulah. ‘S the one with polar bears on it,” Harry stated, though not with full confidence.

“It is the one with polar bears on it, right?” he whispered to Y/N.

This earned a laugh from Y/N, who muttered a quiet, “Yes,” in return. She laid her head in the crook of Harry’s neck, basking in the warmth that radiated from his body. He smelled like cinnamon and the nutmeg-flavored coffee beans he’d ground up just a few minutes before, and maybe a hint like baby barf.

Tallulah scavenged the space under the tree like a predator hunting its prey - all on the lookout for the present fitting the description Harry had given her. Harry and Y/N found themselves thoroughly entertained by watching her overturn almost every gift, and shared a similar giggle when she narrowed in on the box in question before letting out a victorious, “Aha!” into the room only lit by a firelog in the chimney.

“Grab the one for Olive too, please. Don’t want her feelin’ left out,” Harry called out to Talulah.

“Okay, daddy!”

Her small arms stretched to the limit, trying to grab both packages without toppling over onto the others. Tallulah noted that they both felt the exact same underneath the wrapping paper, only her baby sister’s was much smaller than the one addressed to her.

“They feel like clothes,” Tallulah stated matter-of-factly as she took back her place on the floor with both presents in hand.

Harry sighed, leaning down to rest his mug near his feet against the sofa.

“Good grief. Just open it, will yeh?”

She needed no further instruction. Her fingers dug into the paper, piercing it with her nails and ruining the pastel blue parchment that was covered in dozens of cartoon polar bears partaking in various yoga poses. When Tallulah was able to tear the gift away from its wrapping, her hands grasped something soft.

“It’s....pajamas.”

Her tone was flat and unamused. Harry sensed her disappointment, though in his heart he certainly felt like he’d done a great job concocting his plan to have her open this particular gift on Christmas Eve.

“Yeah, but they’re Christmas pajamas. Don’t yeh want t’ look nice when Santa comes to visit tonight?”

This seemed to...disturb Tallulah. That was really the only way to describe how she looked at her dad - with her eyebrows scrunched up and her normally-plush lips pressed together in a thin line.

“...He’s gonna come in my room when I’m sleeping?”

Y/N hadn’t meant to, but a loud cackle erupted from her chest, which jostled the four-month-old baby girl that had the beginnings of sleepiness settling into her body. In contrast to the laugh from Y/N, Olive let out the tiniest of shrills, obviously upset that her mother had interupted the peacefulness she’d felt whilst being curled up against her chest.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, bubby,” Y/N cooed quitely, quickly moving to pat her daughter’s bum and comfort her.

“Mummy didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Y/N pressed a quick kiss to the sparse tufts of hair atop Olive’s head before returning her attention back to Tallulah.

“Lulah, I promise you that Santa will not come in your room while you’re sleeping. What your dad means,” she snuck a glance in Harry’s direction in which he smirked back at her, “Is that you want to look nice on Christmas morning, don’t you? You know Nana’s gonna take a thousand pictures of you and Olive tomorrow, so now you don’t have to change when she gets here, yeah?”

Tallulah nodded, though it didn’t do much to lift her spirits. She fumbled the cream-colored thermal set adorned with gold stars between her fingers, the motion she was always somehow doing whether it be to her dad’s t-shirt while she laid next to him during a movie, Y/N’s lotus pendant when she was smaller and could fit on her chest, or otherwise.

“Plus,” Y/N added, a hint of irony in her voice, “I’d imagine the presents Santa’s going to bring you are much less boring than this.”

They shared a knowing smile, Tallulah’s cheeks growing rosey and her eyes twinkling at the mention of the magical, bearded man.

“I’m offended,” Harry scoffed.

“Really thought those pajamas were proper cute.”

“They are cute, daddy!” Tallulah chimed in, “I like them a lot. Thank you.”

It appeared that the young girl had realized her moping about not receiving the nail polish kit she’d asked for didn’t do her any good. And whether Harry was joking about being upset or not, she’d never want to hurt her dad’s feelings. He’d raised her too kindly to do otherwise.

“You’re welcome, bug,” Harry smiled at her.

“Let’s help Olive open hers, yeah?”

“I bet it’s pajamas,” Tallulah mumbled under her breath.

That earned her a light tug on one of her two braided plaits on her head from Harry. The two of them chuckled at each other, their faces almost looking like identical portraits of each other.

“Humor me for a second then, Lulah. ‘S your sister’s first Christmas.”

Tallulah scoots over on the floor to stand on her knees, this time by Y/N’s legs as she turned Olive around to sit up straight in her lap. Olive, who was once determined to fall asleep right there on the couch beside her mum and dad, was now awake and had taken an interest in the crinkling sound of the wrapping paper on the gift her big sister placed on top of her chunky thighs.

“Here, Livvy,” Tallulah cooed, “You tear it like this.”

She tried to show Olive how to tear away the present by ripping it halfway open, but her effort proved to be unsuccessful the second Olive managed to get her fingers around a scrap of paper and immediately placed it in her mouth. It appeared that Olive was much more interested in the gift wrap than she was her early Christmas present.

“Well, there goes that,” Harry said as he fetched the then soggy parchment from his infant daughter’s lips, making somewhat of a disgusted face as he wiped the excess drool on the leg of his pants.

Tallulah takes the honor of opening Olive’s present for her, and is unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes when her eyes meet a set of thermal pajamas like the ones she’d just received herself, only Olive’s were green with tiny, silver stars. She’d parted her lips to make an undoubtedly flippant comment, but Harry cut her off before she even had the chance to mutter the first syllable.

“Don’t do it, stink head,” Harry quipped, reaching for the discarded paper that was scattered on the rug beneath him so he could put it in the bin later.

“How about you go put on your lovely new pajamas so we can get everything set up f’ Santa to come, alright?”

“Okayyyyyy,” the small girl grumbled before snatching the thermal set from the floor and darting off to her room.

“That didn’t really go the way I hoped,” Harry mumbled as he reached over to take Olive from Y/N.

“It’s Christmas, baby,” Y/N reminded him.

“Kids want toys, not pajamas.”

“Yeah but,” Harry focused his attention at worming the tight-fitting pajamas up his baby girl’s abnormally chubby legs.

“’S what mum used t’ do for us when we were little. Always got pajamas on Christmas Eve. Figured it’d be nice t’ do it for the girls, too.”

“It is sweet, Harry. Just wouldn’t expect a six-year-old to be that enthused about it,” Y/N snickered.

Harry hummed in agreement, his tongue poked out as he fed Olive’s arm into the tight sleeve of her top, struggling a bit to get her balled up fist through the other side.

“Ahh, there we go. Thank god ya only have t’ wear these tomorrow, Chunk. They’ll be too snug by next week.”

“Leave my fat baby alone,” Y/N scolded.

“There’s nothing wrong with being well fed,” she added, leaning over to lightly pinch on her daughter’s round tummy in an attempt to get her to smile at her.

A gummy grin took over Olive’s features at the sight of her mother, a true mummy’s girl at heart. She was much like Tallulah in many ways, but so different at the same time. Olive was still nearly bald, whereas Tallulah’s hair grew like a sprout when she was Olive’s age. Tallulah had always been teeny tiny, no doubt due to her premature birth, and Olive clearly made up in weight for what Tallulah lacked when she was a baby. They both loved cuddles with Harry and listening to the sound of his voice as they fell asleep, but it always puzzled him when Olive didn’t respond to some of his antics in the way that Tallulah had.

“‘M not bein’ mean. I’d jump on the chance to suck on your tits all day if I could, too.”

“Har-” Y/N began to reprimand him about how she can’t say that because there are little ears in the room, but was stopped short.

“I’m back! Can we set out the cookies now?”

Tallulah breathed heavily as if she just sprinted a marathon into the living room.

“Sure can,” Harry responded.

“Come tell Livvy good night first, though. Mummy’s gotta feed her and put her t’ bed.”

She smiled at the mention of her little sister, whom she was always keeping at an arm’s reach. If Tallulah was awake, she was in the same room as Olive. It made Harry’s heart ache in the best way to watch the two of them interact with each other. The feeling he felt when he first saw Olive in Tallulah’s arms at the hospital never subsided. He was absolutely besotted for his girls.

“Bonne nuit, ma petite soeur,” Tallulah whispered to Olive, reaching down to hug her sister and kiss the crown of her head, which she happily accepted in the form of weaving her pudgy fingers into Tallulah’s braids and pulling them rather harshly.

Before he handed her off to Y/N to be fed and put down for the night, he gave Olive a kiss of his own.

“Bonne nuit, ma petite chérie.”

“‘How do you know Santa likes oat milk? Did he tell you that? Luna at school told me he likes chocolate almond milk.’ What kinda shit is that?!” Harry exclaimed with a mouth full of sugar cookie and in the quietest voice he could muster.

He’d just spent the last hour with Y/N, silently digging Tallulah’s gifts from Santa out of his office and placing them underneath the tree. Thankfully, he hadn’t tripped over his own feet and woken her up or else he would have cried right there on the spot.

All Y/N could do was giggle back at him from where she sat on top of the counter, bare legs swinging as she had a mouthful of the very same oat milk in question swishing in her mouth.

“She’s asking too many questions n’ I don’t like it one bit.”

“Think she’s just growing up, babe. The magic doesn’t last forever. She’s about at that age. Probably only have one or two more Christmases before she figures it out.”

Harry stared at the remaining half of the frosted cookie Tallulah left for Santa in his palm, eyes quiet and sullen.

“Don’t like that one bit, either,” he muttered.

“I know you don’t, bubby,” Y/N cooed, pulling Harry into her so he stood between her parted legs on the countertop.

“But you’ve still got Olive.”

He seemed to perk up at that, looking up at her through thick lashes with a smirk.

“Just Olive? We stoppin’ there?”

“I mean,” Y/N pursed her lips.

“Wouldn’t mind trying for a boy.”

Harry placed his hands on either side of her thighs, stroking her skin with his thumbs.

“Might not happen on the first go, though,” he tisked.

“Could take havin’ a few more for that t’ happen. Yeh alright with that?”

“As long as you’re not tired of me by then, then sure,” Y/N jested.

“’M never gonna be tired of you.”

He leaned in close to her, touching his forehead to hers. He was a split second away from kissing her, but then Y/N spoke up again.

“Harry,” she called out.

“Hmm,” Harry’s voice oozed with desire and darkness beginning to turn his eyes a deep shade of juniper.

“Can I please have a bite of your cookie?”

He softly bumped his forehead against hers as they both broke out into a fit of chuckles.

“Allumeuse,” Harry uttered, raising the sickeningly sweet cookie to her lips.

She chewed the baked good tantilizingly slow, making a scene of rolling her eyes back and moaning as if the taste was euphoric.

“Tu aimes ça,” she snided.

“Je fais.”

The two sat in silence after that, finishing up what was left of the small plate of sweets Tallulah had left by the chimney. It wasn’t often that the house was this quiet. Normally, there was a crying Olive to attend to or a needy Tallulah begging for one of them to get more paper out of Harry’s office printer so she could draw pictures of the plants in their garden out back. It would have been eerie, had the multi-colored lights from their Christmas tree not illuminated the majority of their open living space. The twinkling bulbs brought a sense of peacefulness about them. Maybe it was the season, or maybe it was because they’d been feeling so grateful for their small family as of late.

“Honey,” Harry broke the silence.

“What?” she looked up from where she’d been fussing with the hem of her shorts decorated with tiny snowflakes.

“Yeh got a little,” he gestured to her mouth before bringing his thumb to the corner of Y/N’s mouth.

Harry swiped a rogue dollop of blue frosting that rested there and pressed it onto her tongue. She wrapped her lips around his digit, sucking lightly to remove the sticky icing from his skin. Her eyes met his, not once straying as he applied just the slightest bit more of pressure with his thumb. He noted the way her breathing slowed and how she gently shuddered when he tightened the grip of her jaw with the rest of his fingers.

“So pretty,” he purred, marveling at the sight in front of him.

God, how Harry wished it weren’t just his finger resting on the soft, welcoming warmth of her tongue.

Y/N slid off his thumb with a calculated pop of her lips, licking them to ensure she’d rid herself completely of any stray crumbs.

“Kissy?” she posed, smirking.

“I’d be pretty rotten if I said no,” Harry replied before pressing his mouth against hers.

She wrapped her arms around him, forcing him to stand flush against the counter and even closer to her body. He teased her with this tongue, gliding it along the plush skin of the inside of her lip. Y/N welcomed him and parted her lips enough for Harry to get through. Both of them taste the saccharine remnants of the cookies they’d shared, and soon all that’s heard in the house are the suckling noises and heavy pants coming from Harry and Y/N. It’s not loud enough to be a disturbance, but it’s just enough to have them both yearning for more.

“Talk t’ me, lapine,” Harry broke away from her for long enough to mumble one sentence, still pressed against her lips.

“Tell me what yeh want.”

“Want you,” Y/N said in a shaky exhale, chasing Harry’s mouth to reconnect with her own.

“Yeah?” he taunted.

“Want me right here in the kitchen?”

“Ideally, no. But I wouldn’t stop you.”

She parted her legs even wider, attempting to rut against the thick fabric of Harry’s fleece sweatpants. Her center met something stiff and Harry pulled her even closer by the flesh of both bum cheeks, massaging them with his massive palms in a manner that he knew drove her mad.

“That’d be pretty naughty of us, wouldn’t it? Not sure if Santa would approve of that one.”

Before she’s given a chance to respond, Harry snuck his hand between their thighs and began softly petting Y/N over her shorts. Her head fell back in pleasure, temporarily detaching her lips from Harry’s. She knows she can’t make a single sound or else she’ll wake up the entire house so she just sits there with her brows furrowed, silently gasping and letting these sweet, broken moans spill from her throat that spur Harry on even further.

“Can feel you even through your fuckin’ shorts, Y/N,” he grunted, slowing grinding against his own palm that was the only thing separating him from her heat.

This time, it’s Y/N that reached between them, feeling for the stifness that lies between his legs. She wraps her fingers around him through his sweatpants, leisurely tugging at his cock. Harry’s all but forced to begin sucking on the sensitive skin of her neck to keep himself from crying out at the contact, working at blossoming deep lilac and mulberry colored bruises there.

“Bet you could cum just like this, couldn’t you?” he muffles into her collarbone.

Y/N hummed, crossing her legs around Harry’s back as he began to focus his attention to rubbing her clit over the material of her shorts.

“Bet you could too,” she whined.

“’S that what you want, hm? Want me t’ make you cum without even touchin’ you right?”

“‘M not gonna have a choice if you don’t do something else pretty soon.”

She sped up the work she’s doing near Harry’s crotch, paying mind to what she can make of his tip between his boxers. With her thumb, she rubbed expert circles around him, massaging him in the way that he’s doing to her. Both of them could feel it, the slow build up of pressure deep in their abdomen - a coil winding tighter and tight with the threat of snapping.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N.”

He was biting her neck now, completely consumed by the feeling of both the damp patch seeping through Y/N’s shorts and onto his fingers and the precum dripping onto her more delicate ones through his sweatpants.

In an attempt to not embarass himself like a horny teenager, Harry withdrew his hand from in between her thighs and places it around her bum all in the same breath. Y/N sighed defeatedly at the loss of friction against the place she needed it most, dropping her head into Harry’s shoulder and whining rather noisily. Before she even has the chance to curse him for stopping, he scooped her off the counter with all of his strength and began walking both of them to their bedroom so he could fuck her properly.

Their lips detach when Harry drops her onto the bed and a woosh of air leaves the down comforter, causing the hem of Y/N’s top to fly up and expose her tummy. She still wore the deep, almost-metallic stretch marks she’d acquired when she was pregnant with Olive, but it wasn’t with shame. Her and Harry had a talk not that long ago about how much he loved them because it reminded him of how much he cherished watching his baby girl grow before she made her grand, earthside appearance. She’d not mentioned the slightest bit of disdain for them after that.

Just as Harry tugged his jumper over his head and threw it off somewhere that he’d worry about in the morning, his eyes caught the digital clock that rested on the wooden night stand on his side of the bed.

“’S past midnight,” he said with a lopsided grin, climbing on top of the girl he vowed to spend his last dying breath beside.

“Yeah?” Y/N asked, for the life of her unable to understand why that was relevant when just minutes ago, he was rutting into her hands and aching for release.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled against her lips.

He pulled up once more to add, “Happy Christmas.”

She had half the mind to smack him, but all she did was shake her head and smile.

“Happy Christmas, Harry. Will you please fuck me now?”

“Think I can manage that.”

It was the first of many Christmas presents for Y/N.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #dad!harry #dad!Harry styles #dad!harry styles x reader #dad!harry x reader #harry styles smut

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autumnscribbles · 4 years ago

Text

secret’s out | b.s

summary: y/n and brad have been trying to keep their relationship a secret, but a small accident causes the spotlight to shine on them.

word count: 1.1k

a/n: i got equal amount of suggestions for brad and blake so blake will be next!!! i hope you guys like this, and pls leave more brad requests i adore him! or requests for anyone else :)

“Meet and greet’s about to start!” someone called, signalling that the boys needed to head out of the room backstage and head to the meet and greet area.

“Have fun boys,” Kirstie grinned, kissing James quickly. Brad kissed you as well, heading off to meet fans, leaving you and the other girlfriends in the green room, which you had to admit, you were happy about.

You, Kirstie and Lucy got along extremely well, and it was exciting when you were all able to be backstage at the same show together, made it much less boring when the boys actually had to do important business.

You pulled your champagne flute off the table next to you, having another sip. The three of you had decided to pop a bottle open before the show, just because you could. The fizziness went smoothly down your throat, relaxing you almost instantly.

“So,” Lucy started, glancing at you. “When are you and Brad finally gonna spill the beans?”

You shifted in your seat, knowing that question was coming. The girls basically always asked you, eager to finally be able to talk about you in front of people and see cute photos on instagram.

“I’m not sure,” you shrugged. “I told Brad he can decide when he’s comfortable.”

“Totally get it,” Kirstie smiled. “I can’t wait though, you two are way too cute!”

“Agreed,” Lucy nodded. “Best couple, truly.”

You couldn’t help but blush, downing the rest of the champagne quickly, not sure if it was from nerves or excitement.

You guys put music on and began singing together, each of you pretending to be the member in the band you were dating. You laughed as Lucy made a serious face, pretending to play the bass as you belted out the lyrics, not even sounding nearly as good as Brad.

You grabbed the bottle, hoping to pour more for all of you, before realizing it was empty.

“Is there more?” you asked over the music, waving the empty bottle above your head.

“Yeah!” Kirstie exclaimed. “I think it’s out near where the meet and greet is. That table behind the curtain where we had all the snacks and stuff.”

“Do you guys want more?” you asked. “I’ll go grab it quickly.”

“Hell yeah, girl!” Kirstie said, lifting her empty glass.

That was all the convincing you needed to head out of the room, making your way to the table Kirstie was talking about. You knew the meet and greet was going on, so you had to be stealthy. That being said, stealth was pretty hard when you were a couple of glasses in and in an unfamiliar place.

You heard the chattering of fans, and the boys deeper voices greeting them. You giggled at the fact that the term “meet and greet” was so exact. You tried tiptoeing behind the curtain, the boys only a few feet ahead meeting the fans. As you weaved your way around a few chairs to get to the table, you tripped, you foot catching on a chair leg.

“Fuck!” you called out unintentionally, your hand immediately flying to cover your mouth. You hoped no one heard you.

“Y/n?” you head a familiar voice call. It was Brad, of course.

You stayed silent, hoping that if you stayed silent, he would think he was hearing things and continue what he was doing. You couldn’t interrupt the meet and greet over a stupid clumsy fall.

“One second, love,” Brad said to a fan, telling the photographer to wait for him to come back.

A head of brown curls peeked around the curtain, concern plastered over his face as he raced towards you, crouching to your level.

“Y/n, are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered. “I just tripped, I was trying to be stealthy.”

“I don’t think you and stealth will ever mix,” he said, a laugh leaving his mouth.

“You’re right,” you sighed. “I’m fine though, just go back out there! I was just grabbing champagne to go back to the girls.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “Let me help you up at least.”

He reached his hand out for you to grab, and you happily obliged. You winced as you stood up, sharp pain in your ankle that shot up your leg.

“Ow,” you said quietly.

“What’s wrong?” Brad asked, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“My ankle hurts, it’s nothing,” you waved him off, grabbing the champagne and beginning to walk back to the green room, limping your way along.

“Y/n I think you really hurt yourself, love,” Brad cooed. “Let me carry you back to the room.”

“No!” you exclaimed too loudly. “Then people will see us.”

“Let them see,” he smiled. “I can't let you limp back there alone, fragile bottle in hand.”

“Fine,” you whined. “Only because it hurts a lot!”

He scooped you up quickly, stronger than you would have expected, and began walking away from the curtained area. You cradled the bottle in your arms, hoping to somewhat hide it from the mostly underage fans that would be in sight soon enough.

Brad turned the corner, telling the staff and the band that he would be right back, that you were hurt and he was bringing you backstage again.

“Are you okay?” Connor asked, worry spreading over his face.

“Just took a tumble,” you grinned, knowing they wouldn’t really be surprised by this fact.

You heard all the fans muttering, asking who you were, if you and Brad were dating. Phones began coming out of pockets, aiming at the two of you as Brad walked you back, humming as he went.

He nudged the door open with his foot, placing you back down on the chair you were sitting in before all of this happened. The girls immediately asked what happened, of course, and you kept the details light, knowing you’d tell them more when Brad left.

“Get back to the fans,” you told him, pushing him out of the room.

“I love you,” he grinned. “Put ice on that, I’ll be back soon.” He kissed you softly and left the room, saying bye to the girls.

“That’s really swollen,” Lucy said, staring at your ankle.

“I tripped on a chair,” you sighed. “And then I said ‘fuck’ really loud and Brad heard, then he carried me back even though I said I was fine.”

“Did people see you?” Lucy asked, eager to know the answer.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Holding a bottle of champagne too, they probably think I’m an alcoholic or something.”

The girls laughed synchronously, Kirstie popping open the champagne and refilling everyone’s glasses.

“I’m sure they got cute pictures and will be ‘shipping’ you soon enough,” she said.

She held her glass up, you and Lucy joining her.

“Cheers!” she exclaimed. “To y/n fucking up her ankle in the name of champagne.”

“Cheers!” you all cheered, laughing as you tipped the glasses back, not caring about who saw you, or what they thought of you. All you needed were your friends, and Brad.

#brad simpson #brad simpson imagine #brad simpson fic #brad simpson x reader #the vamps #the vamps imagine #bradley will simpson #bws #connor ball #tristan evans #james mcvey

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firstofficerwiggles · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 3: Lust, Actually

Links to: Chpt. 1, Chpt. 2 Chpt. 4

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Jealous!Din, swearing, sexual arousal, mixed signals

Word Count: ~6300

Summary: Din starts to be more aware of his attraction and maybe feelings for you. Also, he takes you and the child to a lake for a few days of relaxation.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Din’s perspective. Just to clarify my writing in general, when I use Din it means it’s his thoughts, but when I use Mando, it’s your thoughts. Also, I hope you like Din being a bit of an exhibitionist here, because I think, given the chance, he’d enjoy showing off for you.

“Welcome back, Mando!” Din feels his heartbeat skip at your cheerful greeting. You always seem so happy to see him when he returns, giving him that wide smile, your eyes lighting up. You’re holding the child and you come over to him, saying “Somebody missed you while you were gone!”

Din knows you mean the kid, but he’d like to know that you missed him too, even though he knows he shouldn’t be thinking like that. He doesn’t want to admit to himself how much he’s been looking forward to seeing your pretty face again. He pushes his thoughts about you aside as you hand him the little one and he focuses his attention on greeting his foundling instead. “Did you have a good time here in Cloud City, buddy?”

“I’d say he had a great time,” you reply, “He loved playing in the big indoor park with all of the other children.” You and the child have been staying in Cloud City for about a week, while Din tracked down a bounty. It had been a particularly tricky job, but at least it was well paying, which meant he was looking forward to being able to take a break for a few days. He tickles the child under his chin getting him to giggle. Maybe he’ll take you all to Crucival, he remembers it has some pretty grasslands that you’ll both probably enjoy. Should be nice, give everyone a chance for some fresh air.

“I have all our things ready to go, but we just need to stop in at the café a few doors down to collect our dinner and say goodbye.” You tell Din, gesturing to your small pile of bags.

“Say goodbye to who?” He asks.

“Riva, the owner of the café,” you explain, “The green bean here just loves the meat pies from there. We’ve been there every day. I ordered a few to take with us.”

Din nods in response and hands the child back to you so he can collect the bags. He shakes his head at your protests that you can carry something and just gestures for you to go ahead. You’re so cute when you think he needs help. Din follows you to the aforementioned café and sees a handsome man greet you and the child enthusiastically. Apparently, this is Riva. Din feels his jaw clench involuntarily and his stomach feels hot. He tries to ignore it though as you’re turning toward him with a hand extended as you say, “Mando, come meet Riva.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mando.” Riva reaches out his hand in greeting. Din gives it a brief shake but saying nothing in response. It doesn’t seem to bother Riva, as he can’t keep his eyes off you and he turns back to say, “I’ll miss you two around here. You’ve been a real bright spot in my day.”

“Thank you,” you respond with a smile, “It’s been nice getting to know you. Oh, and thank you for the recipe, I know it will keep the little guy happy.” Din wonders if the meat pies are the only reason you’ve been coming to this café every day. He tries not to thinks about how much time you’ve probably spent visiting with Riva. He tells himself it doesn’t matter, you’re leaving now with him, and besides, why should he care who you spend your time with as long as the child is taken care of and safe.

“We should get going,” Din says and he decides to reach forward and place a hand on your shoulder.

“Of course.” You respond, “Wave bye-bye,” you tell the baby and you making waving motions to prompt him. Din moves his hand down to the small of your back and presses lightly in a gesture meant to get you to turn and walk with him. He’s pleased when you follow his movements; he likes that it shows you’re in sync with him.

“Have a safe journey! Maybe I’ll see you again soon?” Riva says hopefully.

“Maybe,” you reply with a small glance back.

“Not if I can help it,” Din says under his breath. You turn your head towards Din and for a moment, he thinks you heard his comment. But you say nothing and just continue on, letting him lead you towards the landing platform where the Razor Crest is parked. He keeps his hand on your lower back as you walk, knowing that it’s a small excuse to touch you without raising any questions.

Maker! He shouldn’t look forward to it as much as he does, but he really enjoys it when he has an excuse to touch you. Maybe you’ll be interested in practicing more self-defense techniques these next few days. Not only will it be a valuable skill for you to have, but also, he knows it means you’ll be in close proximity to him and there’s a good chance he’ll get to feel your body against his again. He’s embarrassed to admit even to himself the number of daydreams he’s had about being free to touch you without an excuse. Many of these daydreams are so innocent, things like running his fingers over your hair, holding your hand while you’re seated next to him, or embracing you when he returns from a hunt. Din sighs as he mulls over these thoughts. I am being pathetic and probably creepy too.

It doesn’t help things that the lines between being your employer and being your friend seem to be blurring every day. He chalks it up to living with you and the casual intimacy that comes with it. Something as simple as seeing you in your pajamas or knowing the exact scent of your soap has allowed him to know more about you than a typical employer might. Then there’s the odd sense of pride from knowing that he provides for you, and not just that he pays your salary, but that he provides you with a home and food. It’s similar to the feeling he had when he protected you from that creep in the marketplace a few weeks ago. Not that he had needed to do much, but the satisfaction he had from showing you how capable he was at keeping you safe was a new emotion that he didn’t quite recognize but was eager to feel again.

“So, what’s the next stop?” Your question brings Din out of his reverie. You’ve settled into the co-pilot’s chair after securing the child in his own seat.

“Crucival. I have some time to take a break for the next few days, and I figured you’d like one too.” Din tells you of his plan.

“Oh good! I know the kiddo will be happy to get to spend some time with you. Plus, I’d love a few hours to myself.” You sound eager for the opportunity. “Not that I don’t adore you, buddy,” you look over and reassure the child.

“I also thought I could teach you some additional self-defense tactics,” Din mentions casually, “If you’d like.”

“Oh, uh, sure, if you think so,” you say, “But, um, we don’t have to practice shooting moving targets, do we?”

“I was thinking more hand-to-hand fighting. Nothing too strenuous, just some key moves to help you get out of a bad situation.” He explains. Din can tell the idea of shooting a moving target really bothers you and he knows he’ll need to think of a clever way to help you become more comfortable with the idea.

“Ok, yeah, that would be good.” You offer him a small shrug. It’s not the enthusiastic response he was hoping for but at least you didn’t say no.

“There’s also a nice lake there I thought we could visit.” Din tells you thinking of another place that you and the child might enjoy seeing.

“Ooh! Do you think we can go swimming?” Now your tone is full of enthusiasm and you’re smiling at the prospect of a lake visit.

“Sure, if the weather is nice.” He’s pleased you sound so excited. Din’s not sure why he feels this need to make you happy, but each time he does, he knows he wants to do it again. Perhaps it’s just the way you seem to appreciate everything that he does, even trivial actions can bring a smile to your face and a warm ‘thank you’ from your lips. It’s not like other people don’t appreciate his work, but there’s something that feels different when you thank him, like it means so much to you.

“Tell me more about what you two did in Bespin.” Din likes hearing you talk about your time with the child.

“Well, I told you we went to the park; he liked going down the slide and playing in the sandbox there. Plus, he made lots of friends. There was this one little girl, Lisel, that he really liked and he loved holding her hand and walking around with her. They were so cute together.” You chuckle a little at the memory. “They became such good friends that her father invited us to dinner one evening.”

“Her father?” Din asks, wondering if you spent all your time meeting men while you were in Cloud City.

“Yes, he’s a single father, like you. Mostly Lisel was with her nanny at the park too, but one day her father brought her. He’d heard so much about the green boy, as Lisel called him, that he wanted to meet us.”

“How was it?” Din asks politely, although he’d rather not hear about your dinner date.

“It was fun, the little guy had a great time at dinner. He even shared his dessert with Lisel, so you know she was a very special friend.” Your voice teases the little one, as you know his fondness for sweet treats.

“Oh wait, I forgot, I took some holos to show you.” You pull out your holopad from your pocket and show him several of the child with a little girl who looks to be about 4 years old. Din has to admit, the kid does look like he’s having a great time. When you get to a holo with an attractive man and the little girl, he feels his interest wane.

“That’s Lisel’s father, he was friendly; it was nice of him to open his home to us.” You explain, a bit unnecessarily in Din’s opinion.

“Hmm” is all Din can think to say in response to that. Sure, this guy invited over his kid’s new friend because he’s just that nice, it had nothing to do with the beautiful woman caring for him. He’s thankful his expression is hidden from you by his helmet. He knows it’s stupid, because you’ll probably never see the man again, and he himself has no claim on you, but he can’t help a flare of jealousy at the thought of you sharing a meal with another man. It’s compounded by the fact that Din can’t ever share a meal with you without breaking his creed. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to hear any more about Lisel’s father, because you appear to be out of holos and decide to change the subject.

“How was your hunt? I mean, I’m sure you caught him, but how did it go?” You ask him. You’ve never inquired about his bounties in the past and he wonders what made you think to ask him now.

“It was successful, that’s the important part.” He responds.

“Will you tell me about it? I’d like to hear more about what you do.” You sound genuinely curious. He isn’t usually one to share tales of his work. He always saw it as outrageous bragging after hearing stories from other bounty hunters back on Navarro. But there’s something about your expression, an eagerness to know more about him, that makes him feel like talking about it.

“This one was difficult, because the guy was a lot craftier than most quarries.” He explains. “Normally, they just run to some place over-populated thinking they can blend in or they head somewhere remote and try to hide. But this guy managed to pull off a really good identity switch and he discovered a way to fool the bio data for the tracking fob.”

“What did he do? Surgically alter his face or something?” It sounds like something a villain from a bad holoprogram would do.

Din chuckles, “Yes, he’s human but he had some type of skin treatment to make him look like he was Chiss, even had these special lens in his eyes that glowed red. I had to run DNA samples to verify it was him since he looked nothing like the puck.”

“How did you ever find him?” You sound impressed.

“His mother was receiving regular payments from a mining consortium on Bespin. Each month it looked like the money was coming from different accounts but it was always the same amount and it rotated perfectly between the accounts. It was too regular to not be a pattern. Besides the mother had no prior connection to Bespin nor mining, there was no reason for her to be receiving money unless he was sending it to her.”

“It’s like something out of a crime drama, ‘always follow the money’, right?” You’re clearly entertained by his story.

“Yeah, well, that got me to the mine, but then I still had to figure out who he was pretending to be.” Din explains, “I had it narrowed down to a few guys but still had to track them down and then each one ran from me, making me chase them all over the mine, I was constantly trying to avoid dangerous machinery. I guess mining attracts men who have bounties on their heads.”

“You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Your concern for his well-being is sweet.

“Nah, I’m fine. Maybe a few bruises.” He shrugs, it’s nothing he can’t handle.

“You’re sure? Do you need bacta or anything?” You offer.

“I’m good.” Din replies, “But, um, if you felt like cooking dinner, I wouldn’t say no to that. Only if you feel like it. All I’ve had are ration bars the last few days.” He admits this sheepishly to you. Din doesn’t want to take advantage of your kindness but you really are a much better cook than he is and he does enjoy the way you fuss over him about eating healthy.

“Of course,” you say pleasantly and head down to the galley.

When you return, you have a tray with a bowl of soup, one of the meat pies, a salad, some sliced fruit and a cup of tea for him. It’s way more than he needs, but he appreciates your thoughtfulness and worry that he hasn’t eaten enough. He notes that you even made him the tea that he likes but that you don’t seem to care for, which means you must have made it special just for him. That thought alone is enough to make him smile and, after you’ve set down the tray on the console, he finds himself reaching out to take your hand. You seem a bit startled by this but you don’t say anything.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Din tries to make his voice sound as warm as he can through the modulator, “for all that you do for me.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mando,” you tell him, your own voice sounding warm and sincere.

He gives your hand a little squeeze, and tells you, “You’re such a good friend.” He watches your face falter a bit at those words and you release his hand.

“I hope you enjoy your dinner.” You smile at him again, but this smile doesn’t reach your eyes. He barely has a chance to register it though because you’re already moving past him, scooping up the kid, and heading back down the ladder swiftly.

Shit, what did I do wrong? Din can’t figure out what could have changed your demeanor. Maybe squeezing her hand was too much? He sighs to himself and hopes he hasn’t upset you in some way. He listens for a moment and he can hear you chatting happily to the child so it can’t be too bad. His stomach growls and remembering his hunger, he turns back to the feast you’ve brought him. He hates to admit it but the meat pie is good even if it did come from stupid handsome Riva.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Crucival may be considered a backwater, but it has its own beauty in soft rolling hills and small wooded areas, and even several wild flowers, if Din remembers correctly. After yesterday evening though, he knows he wants to see a real smile on your face again and so he decides to head straight for the lake, knowing it’s the best feature this little break has to offer. Turns out that was the smart move because as soon as he lowers the Crest’s ramp, your entire face lights up with delight at the sparkling water. It’s a sunny day and warm without being too hot, a perfect day to spend at the lake. He chuckles as, just like the kid, you race down the ramp straight for the little sandy beach. Before he’s even off the ship, you two are already wading at the water’s edge. He watches as you help the kid get his robe off, allowing the little guy to splash around in the buff. He feels a wide smile break out on his face at how much fun the kid’s having. There’s a small group of shady trees at the water’s edge and Din settles himself underneath them where he can watch the two of you. He’s surprised though when you suddenly bring the child back to him.

“The water’s so warm, I going to go put on my swim suit.” You tell him excitedly. “The kiddo can be a nudist, but that’s not my style.” You give him a wink and jog back to the ship.

The little guy squirms in Din’s arms and makes small whining sounds indicating that he wants to be back in the water. Din looks down at himself and he feels a little out of place in all of his armor and protective layers.

“Give me a couple minutes, pal,” he tells the child as begins to remove his armor and strip down to his base layers. After a bit, he’s down to just his helmet, trousers, and undershirt, and he’s finally ready to take the kid back to the lake when Din sees you coming back. All his movements come to a grinding halt as he watches you saunter over to him. Your swimsuit shows off your all your curves beautifully and you look so gorgeously sexy that all he can do is stare at you. He watches you dumbly as you reach for the squirming child who is getting increasingly impatient and he sees your mouth moving, but it’s as if there’s a short circuit in his brain and he has no idea what you’re saying.

“Mando?” You must have asked him something.

“Yes” He just agrees blindly hoping that’s the right answer. It seems to be, because you’re giving him that incredibly bright smile of yours and saying, “Alright, let’s go.”

You tug his arm to make him move and head back to the water. He follows after you and the child, but stops to wade in the shallow water at the shore, while you swim out a bit further, holding onto the child. He watches as the two of you float and swim, laughing in delight.

“Well, aren’t you coming in?” You call out to him.

“I’m still in my clothes.” Din doesn’t own a swimsuit, never has.

“So? They can get wet. Or I guess you could take them off.” Your voice has a playfulness he hasn’t heard before. You’re teasing him, and it’s clear you don’t think he’ll ever take off his clothes to come swimming.

Din might spend most of his time with his skin fully covered, but he’s not shy about his body. In fact, your teasing tone makes him want to rise to your challenge, and so he reaches for the hem of his shirt and slowly pulls it off. When he glances back at you, he can see he has your complete attention and your mouth has fallen open a bit. Good, Din wants you to look, he likes the idea of you watching him undress. He moves to unbutton and unzip his trousers next, before pushing them down and letting them fall to the sand. He heads into the water now only in his black boxer briefs and his helmet. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from him, at least until the child sends a large splash of water into your face.

“He got you good,” Din chuckles at the sight of your face dripping with water as he swims up to you.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer out. It appears you’re rather flustered from his impromptu strip tease on the shore and you seem to be trying very hard to keep your eyes on his visor, but he sees you taking little peeks down at his naked chest.

“It’s alright, you can look.” Din tells you cheekily and loves it when you gasp in response. He looks down at your chest too where he’s rewarded with the sight of your cleavage, enhanced by the glistening water running down your skin. Teasing you a bit further, he says, “Besides, I’m certainly enjoying the view myself.”

“Mando!” You’re trying to make it sound like you’re scandalized, but the way your eyes are shining and the fact that you’re still smiling tell him you’re enjoying this as much as he is. Not wanting to push too far though, he turns his attention to the child.

“C’mon pal, let’s practice kicking.” Din holds the little one’s arms as he floats on his tummy and you both watch as he kicks his little legs hard churning up the water. Din moves through the water helping the child gain momentum as he kicks. The child grins up at him in delight and Din’s glad he decided to come swimming.

The three of you have a delightful time in the lake and you stay in the water until your fingers and toes are pruney, only finally coming out because you can tell the child will need to eat soon or you’ll be dealing with a cranky toddler instead of a giggling one.

“Oh, I forgot to grab towels.” You’re saying as you make your way back onto the little beach.

“That’s ok,” Din replies, “You can just use my cape to dry off and the kid and I will air dry.” He’s already stretching out in the sun. You glance down at him, but then suddenly turn away with your hand to your mouth and hurry over to find his cape. Din looks down at himself and realizes that now that his boxer briefs are wet, everything is more on display than before. He chuckles to himself and hopes you weren’t too shocked, but also, he can’t help himself from thinking, I hope she liked what she saw.

When you return you’re carrying some towels, a blanket and bag that looks to be full of food. Din watches as you demurely keep your head turned and toss him a towel before helping the child dry off more. Then you spread out a blanket and proceed to set up a huge picnic for the three of you. He notices you’re dividing up the food so that it’s on two opposite edges of the blanket.

“I thought maybe if we sat back-to-back it would be OK for us to eat together. I’ll keep the child on my lap and there’s no one else around who could see you, so it should be safe. What do you think?” You ask him.

“Yeah, that will work.” Din’s touched that you’ve thought of a way for the three of you to share a meal together in some fashion. He knows there aren’t many settlements around, so he figures he can push the helmet up and leave it atop his head while he eats. It will be easy enough to drop it back down quickly if necessary.

He waits until you get settled on the blanket with the kid, and then sits down behind you. He leans back against your body, forgetting that your swimsuit has left your back almost entirely bare and now he can feel your warm skin from your hips to your shoulders pressed against his. The sensation is so incredible for him that he feels like he can’t breathe. He doesn’t remember the last time someone touched this much of his skin. What he told you before was true, he has had lovers, but it’s been a very long time since he’s taken off more than what was absolutely necessary for those encounters. And despite the fact that there’s nothing truly sexual about the way that you’re touching him now, it’s intimate for him. He tries to eat but each time one of you moves all he can focus on is the feeling of your skin brushing his. He knows you’re trying to have a conversation with him, but he keeps losing track of the topic.

“Is everything OK, Mando?” You seem to have noticed how quiet he’s being.

“Yeah, just, uh, enjoying the sound of your voice.” In trying not to saying anything about how much he likes touching you, he lets that admission slip out unwarranted.

“Oh, thank you. I hope I haven’t been too chatty.” You sound pleased but a little self-conscious from his compliment. “I know you must be used to silence when you eat, and I hope I didn’t bother you.”

“Of course not. It’s been interesting.” He figures that’s safe enough for him to say so he doesn’t have to admit that he’s been too physically distracted to really pay attention to your words.

“I am starting to get a bit tired though, how about we take a nap, little guy?” You’re addressing the child now. The kid is not pleased with this proposal, however, and he lets out an unhappy, whiny sound.

“I can take him back in the water if you’d like to rest,” Din suggests. He knows you’ve been on full-blown caregiver duty for days now and he did intend for this little sojourn to be a rest for you.

“Would you? That sounds great.” He can hear the relief in your voice. Slipping his helmet back on, he cleans up his side of the picnic before coming around to pick up the kid, and he notices the grateful look in your eyes. Din leaves you to your nap, only glancing back once to see you bunching up his cape to use as a pillow. The gesture makes him chuckle and he’s glad he could give you some time to yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, the weather has turned somewhat and there’s a cooler breeze blowing. It’s not a great day for swimming, but, Din thinks with a smile, it will be perfect for self-defense training with you. When he tells you this plan after breakfast, he’s hoping you’re up for it.

“Yes, I think it’s a good idea,” you respond to his suggestion, “Thank you for offering, Mando, I would like to learn some more moves.”

“Good” He doesn’t try to hide his enthusiasm at sharing some of his knowledge with you. Din knows he can’t be with you at all times and the more you can protect yourself the less he will worry. In anticipation of you agreeing to training, he’s forgone his armor today, save the helmet of course.

After a careful explanation to the child about how you’ll both be pretend fighting and a warning that he is to stay in your sight at all times, Din and you are ready to begin. He starts by explaining four main areas of weakness that can allow you to inflict damage with minimal effort: the stomach, the instep, the nose, and the groin. He also points out other areas, like knees and ankles, that can be weakened fairly quickly allowing you to escape. Then he takes you through some basic movements that are easy but effective. He’s sure to teach moves that will work with either your arms or your legs in case your attacker has incapacitated one or the other.

“What if I can’t move my arms or my legs?” You ask in a worried voice.

“Well, then use that big brain of yours to try and talk your way out of things.” Din knows that wasn’t the answer you were looking to get, but he hopes the teasing compliment will distract you from any worse case scenarios you can imagine.

“Gee, thanks,” you respond, but you’re smirking at him so he knows it was a good tactic.

“Let’s try it all out now. I’ll pretend to attack you and you try to escape. But uh, maybe don’t try any of the nose moves because the beskar will just hurt your hand.” Din says.

“Got it, nose off-limits for this.” You nod, but then give him a sassy look, “What about the groin?”

“Look, do what you need to, but I would appreciate it if that’s not your primary target every time,” he says. You just laugh in response to that, and before you realize it, Din is attacking you head on.

“Hey, wait, I wasn’t ready,” you protest as Din’s arms grab yours tightly.

“I know, so what’re you gonna do about it?” He’s smirking at you until you manage to kick his shin hard and then his ankle. It’s not enough to make him let go, but it does hurt. “Alright, good, keep trying.”

It takes you a few attempts, but eventually you manage to break free from his hold. He makes you practice several times, changing up his angle of attack as he goes to keep the element of surprise. After each little session, he gives you advice to help you improve and he praises you for the good hits you managed to land. Finally, you’re pleading with him for a break and some water. He gives in and you walk over to the child to check on him. The little one has been amazingly good this whole time, playing with a couple of his toys and looking up every so often to watch the entertainment you’re both providing.

Din has been enjoying himself immensely. Although you’ve probably given him a few new bruises, he’s proud of how well you listened to his teaching and genuinely pleased by the quick progress you’ve made. Plus, he’s thankful you’ve tactfully avoided hitting him in the groin thus far. Although he’s given you permission to use what he’s taught you, he’d rather not have any bruising there. As you turn to head back over to the patch of grass where you’ve been training, Din realizes your guard is still down, so it’s a perfect opportunity for him to surprise you again. Only this time he misjudges his speed and strength as he’s a little too excited at the idea of catching you unaware and he ends up tackling you to the ground.

“Mando!” You let out a surprised yelp as you scramble in the grass with Din on top of you. He pushes himself up on his arms, but all this serves to do is make him more aware of your position as now he’s looking down at you, under him. It sends a hot feeling of pure lust through his chest and stomach, which ends up right between his legs at the precise moment you choose to arch your back and brush your hips up against his. So much for avoiding his groin. Your move is purely instinctual, Din thinks, an attempt to try to move him off of you. But the friction feels too good and he can’t stifle the groan that escapes his throat. Without thinking, he pushes his hips into yours, grinding himself against you. It isn’t until he sees your eyes widen and you let out a gasp, that he finally comes to his senses and jumps off of you as fast as he can. His face heats up under the helmet, as embarrassment washes over him. He knows you must have felt how hard he is for you right now, how could you not? He’d almost rather you had punched him there instead.

“I- I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to uh knock you down.” Din is stumbling over his words as he’s trying to regain control over himself. He realizes too late that you’re still sprawled on the ground and that if he were any type of gentleman he should offer to help you up. Awkwardly he reaches out a hand to you and helps you to your feet, but he’s afraid of touching you for too long so he drops your hand the second you’re upright, terrified that he’ll do or say something else stupid. Shit! What did I just do? I should apologize more, right? But what the hell do I say?

“Are you OK? Did I hurt you? I’m really sorry, really, that was stupid of me, I-” Din is babbling now but he can’t think of the right words to say. I’m sorry for rutting into you like a horny jerk?

“It’s ok, Mando, I’m alright. I’m not hurt.” You’re laughing it off and brushing some grass out of your hair. “You just surprised the hell out of me.”

“I didn’t mean to come at you that hard-” Din tries to explain but then realizes that your eyes flick down just for a second at the word hard. He’s still very obviously aroused and clearly, you’re aware of that. All of his bravado from yesterday is gone and he doesn’t care if you like what you see, he just wants you to not despise him.

“Mando, really, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. But maybe that’s enough training for the day.” You’re being very magnanimous about the situation, in his opinion. You have every right to be angry with him, but instead you give him a reassuring smile and a little pat on the arm. “I learned a lot, and again, I appreciate you teaching me.”

You turn toward the child and head over to him, saying “Hey buddy, feel like going for a walk?” The baby coos up at you in delight and reaches his arms up to you indicating that he wants to be carried for this ‘walk’.

Great, she can’t wait to get away from me. Din lets a new wave of shame wash over him, but he can’t blame you for wanted some space right now.

You surprise him though when you say, “C’mon Mando, let’s go explore this place a bit more.”

“You want me to come along?” He doesn’t believe he heard you correctly.

“Yes, of course,” you say warmly, “Unless you’re too worn out from my excellent new defensive moves to walk?” You voice has a teasing lilt to it again, and he’s relieved to know you don’t seem to be mad at him. He feels better and is thankful you seem to accept his apology.

“You’re going to have to do a lot more to me than that before I’m too tired to walk.” He responds smugly as he comes over to join you.

You turn to face him, and with a gleam in your eye and a little smirk on your lips, you say, “Oh, I’m sure I can think of a few things I could do that would tire you out.”

Once again, Din is thankful for his helmet as there is no way to hide the utter shock on his face at your words. Are you flirting with him? Could it be possible that you’re interested in him in that way? He tells himself that he’s being ridiculous and that he needs to get a grip on his hormones. He takes a deep breath and wills himself to calm down.

You’re too busy laughing to notice his inner turmoil, and when you finally catch your breath, you say, “I couldn’t resist saying that, you set me up so perfectly.”

He laughs with you letting it break the tension he’s feeling, telling you, “Yeah, you’re hilarious.” So you were only joking. That’s good to know. You’re probably just trying to put him at ease and smooth over any awkwardness.

“Let’s head this way,” you gesture with a point of your finger and give him another smile.

Din walks with you and the child along the lakeshore following a small path that leads up a hill. When you reach the top, you’re rewarded with a view of a field of wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze on one side and a view of the soft blue waters of the lake on the other. The clouds have thinned out leaving a bright blue sky with the sun streaming down; all together, it’s a picturesque sight.

“Oh this is so pretty,” you sigh happily, “I’m so glad you brought us here, Mando.” The child also makes a contented cooing sound.

“I’m pleased you’re enjoying it.” Din tells you softly. As pretty as the view is, he only has eyes for your face. The evident joy you have in seeing this simple landscape pulls at his heart and he wishes there were a way for him to give you this feeling every day. The emotion he’s feeling grows when he feels you slip your hand into his. You don’t say anything at first, you just remain there holding his hand and looking out at the view for a moment.

You squeeze his hand before you let go and say, “Thank you for this, bringing me to Crucival. It’s a lovely place. You’re a good friend to me too, Mando.”

Your words echo his from a few nights ago, but there’s something about hearing you call him a friend that disappoints him. It’s not enough, he realizes, he wants to be more than a friend to you. It’s a dangerous thought.

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Thank you for reading! Keep reading: Chapter 4: A Fairly Indecent Proposal

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