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narrators-journal · 4 years ago

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The final step

This is it boys! The final part! After this, I have no other fic to post, so I’ll probably return to original work or silence lol. But! I’ll try to post what I can to feed ya’ll content!

cw: descriptions of murder, Hint o’ Hisoka, reader’s pregnant

Previous part: here

First part: here

Illumi spent a while helping you pack before the butlers he'd requested showed up, than he returned to his home across the street to pack up as well. After all, with you now on the track to marry him, he would no longer need the home. Though, maybe we could keep it, and use it as something of a vacation spot to escape mother's unrelenting nagging. He mused.

While he was shoving his clothes into his bag and mulling over that option, he spoke to said mother, or, more-so half listened to Kikyo squeal and giggle in pure delight at the news of your pregnancy. "Mother, please refrain from shrieking in my ear," he said when his excitable mother had to stop for breath, "I'm sorry dear, but this is such good news! Your father and I were hoping this woman would prove to be a good wife, and while I will say it's a little soon for a baby, this is good news nonetheless!" She squealed, making the assassin huff, "I know, I should've waited until after I'd married her to consummate," Kikyo about blew a raspberry at his words, making him blink, "Illumi, we don't care if you decide to have sex before you get married. My only concern is that this woman isn't the right one for you." she said, "Your father would prefer that you choose a woman a bit more suited for our line of work, but if she's really as submissive as you described, I'm sure she'll be a fine addition to the family. Oh! And I'm sure your child will be absolutely adorable! I can't wait to put little booties on them, and absolutely dote on them like you no longer let me do-" "Mother," Illumi said, though his mother knew despite his monotone voice that he was annoyed. "Well, you don't." she sniffed before changing the subject. "Anyway, when are you bringing her home? I want to meet her already!" she said, going into a bit of a rant over his failure to even show Kikyo a picture of you, but her son was no longer listening. Instead, Illumi's attention was turned to his surroundings, his senses on high alert from the waves of malicious intent he felt so suddenly from the direction of your home. "Mother, was Hisoka released?" Illumi asked, his mother's voice dying at the palpable tension coming through the phone, "I believe so? Your grandfather was apparently sick of the creep, so he had him thrown out." she offered a second before Illumi hung up. In a flash, the assassin was across the street at your home, his needles at the ready. As soon as he set foot in the house, the assassin was greeted with the familiar scent of blood hanging in the air like a heavy blanket and a silence that ate at his nerves. Your home was quiet. too quiet. It about drove the assassin insane with the possible reasons behind the lack of life. Of course, the butlers that were tasked with helping you pack your clothes were dead, so that helped to explain the stifling quiet, but the sight of the help mercilessly slaughtered didn't justify the way Illumi's heart raced and a strange feeling gripped at his throat until he felt he couldn't breathe. The only time that feeling seemed to finally leave, only to be replaced with wrath, was when the casually dressed assassin slipped into your bathroom, his needles poised to be thrown, and he was met with the one person he didn't want to see inside of your home. "Hisoka." he hissed, his dark eyes narrowing and his aura reflecting the heated rage that boiled his blood at the sight of the brightly colored magician, who turned to look at him lazily, frowning as if the soulless man was as equally unwanted as the pink haired man was, "Before you maul me and get no answers, I didn't hurt your precious (y/n)." He assured, plucking one of his signature playing cards and licking the blood of a butler from it before continuing "I believe she crawled out of the bathroom window. So, I suggest you go get her back before you focus on me. Don't want her to get too far away now, do we?" The magician pouted, knowing damned well Illumi wouldn't bother with him after that news, which meant Illumi wouldn't be fighting him, yet. The assassin did, in fact, leave the magician at your house, going out instead to find you. If the help wasn't so fucking incompetent this would be a lot easier. He thought as he forced his wrathful aura into zetsu while he coldly rushed by the corpses and returned outside to prowl down the chilly streets of town, turning that edgy, strangling, anxiety feeling in his throat into energy to fuel his possessive hunt for his wife, his property. On the bright side of the situation though, you were nothing compared to the dark-haired predator, so he had that to cool his unhinged emotions before running into you. You were a recluse, you likely didn't know your way around town that well, so your trail was pretty obvious. In times of life threatening danger, people, more-so women, usually went to crowded areas after all, and you didn't know of many places that would offer help, so you were likely going to head to your grocery store. Knowing that, Illumi was able to get ahead of you, scooping you up before you could slow from a mad dash fuelled by mortal terror to a speed at which you could avoid slamming into the hunter's chest. "(y/n)," he growled, shaking you once, firmly, to put a stop to your flailing and squirming, "I am this close to jamming one of my needles into your brain. STOP IT." He ordered, the force of slightly panicked rage in his words making you freeze and stare up in terror at him with your wide (e/c) eyes. For a few seconds you stared at one another, your form squished to his in an inescapable grip while his soulless eyes glared down at you until you finally burst into tears. "Please! Just let me go!" You plead, your voice quivering with barely restrained sobs, so he took a deep breath and ran his thumb down your already tear-stained cheek, "Why would I do that? I'm only trying to keep you and our baby safe." he reminded you, but you shook your head vigorously, making bits of your (h/l), (h/c) hair stick to your face, "You're scaring me! Please let me go, I'm begging you Illumi." you cried, trying to shake his comforting hug off, "I thought you loved me," he said, not releasing you even when your upset tantrum stuttered to a stop. For a moment, you seemed conflicted, but than closed your eyes and tried to kick him to no avail, "I...I don't know anymore. You've...become so scary recently, I have to p-put my own well being ahead of any shallow attraction." you sniffled, digging your nails into his t-shirt. He brushed a strand of hair from your (s/c) face as you shook against him "(y/n), I would never do anything to harm you or our baby unless you force me to. Just behave and act like you did before figuring out you were pregnant, everything will be okay." he assured, making his voice as comforting, soft, and loving as he could manage to try and sooth you. Thankfully, he could see the fear and rebellion in your (e/c) eyes dim, returning to their usual, gorgeously submissive state. After that, you only gave one final attempt at escaping his arms before finally giving up. "Good girl, (y/n). Now, let's go home. My mother is about to implode in her excitement to meet you." After that, Illumi returned to the house he had bought for his bag of clothes, then made a beeline for the Zoldyck estate. On the trip there, the long haired assassin tried to make you happy, providing you food, comfortable places to sleep when need-be, and finding you little gifts related to your hobbies to try and entertain and make you smile. He could tell that you were still uncomfortable with him, but you slowly began to warm back up to him when your human need for companionship demanded it. However, the one thing he couldn't save you from or prepare you for, was Kikyo. The woman about tackled Illumi when he pushed open the testing gates, but as soon as you were through and safely on Zoldyck land with your husband protectively at your side, his mother began her fussing. "She looks so ill! Illumi, did you make sure she's physically healthy?" "She's not much to look at, maybe if she tried more make-up and clothes that fit her better?" "Illumi, where are her things? Did you just snatch her up off of the street while she was pregnant?!" The only thing that saved you and Illumi from his mother's judgements and chiding was a firm look from his father, Silva, who was making a rare appearance to greet you in a much calmer manner. "To answer your questions, I will get the family doctor to look her over, and her things had to be left. A threat came up and I needed to bring her here before harm befell her, so I will need to buy her new clothes." The dead eyed assassin assured his mother, who obviously had more hen pecking to do, but she refrained under the stern look of her husband. After that, Illumi got you nicely settled in to his bedroom, and while you did put up some more of a fight over staying there, you mostly accepted your role as his wife-to-be and mother of his child rather easily. He knew you were simply acting out from your hormones and the stress of your situation, so he did his best to keep his temper with you. "It'll be okay (y/n), once you get comfortable here, we'll be happy." Illumi soothed one night after one of your bouts of sobbing and fighting to escape while he sat, cross-legged with you in his lap and his hands rubbing your belly. You weren't showing much yet, but it still pleased him greatly to now have his wife and child safely at home. That's right, he thought, letting a rare smile spread across his usually unreadable face, you're home now, (y/n)...

#Illumi #yandere illumi x reader #x reader #yandere #hisoka #hxh #hunter x hunter #part 12 #quotev #fanfiction

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oddsnendsfanfics · 4 years ago

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Unraveling in the Sheets

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, NSFW

Rating: M

Length: Short Story

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Spoiler Alert, there is smut. Be warned. It's there.

Also, I am no longer doing tags on posts. Since my list exceeds the tag limit. Please feel free to join the chat in place of the tag list.

Henry Cavill Master List

“How did you do it though?” Gliding the car into a free parking space, Henry glanced at Nell in the passenger's seat.

“How did I do what?” Eyeing him curiously, she tried to hide her gloating smile. She could be a terrible winner, even if she wasn't the winner, she had came ahead of Henry.

“You know what I mean, Nelly.”

He looked so silly, his new mustache curling when he laughed or smiled. Nell had to admit, if any man could wear the 'stache Henry did it well.

“Oh, you mean how did I suddenly leave your ass behind and finish nearly 50 positions ahead?” She laughed, crinkling her nose. “I told you, I've been working hard for this. Besides, you're too big. You move slower than I do. It's that simple. Maybe next year, you will finish ahead of me.”

“You're impossible.” Unbuckling his seat belt, Henry hurried to get out of the car and around to the other side, before Nell could open her own door. Nearly there, he frowned when she opened the door, stepping out of the Aston Martin. “You were supposed to let me open that.”

“I am supposed to do a lot of things that I do not.” Nell grabbed her hand bag. “I'll let you open the door, next time. You big dork.”

Henry was always the gentleman, even when Nell would rather rip his eyes out than speak to him in a civil manner. Not that she ever felt the former much, but on the rare occasion. Sometimes that's how things went for ex-lovers. The mid May air was growing cool, leaving a few goosebumps on Nell's exposed arms. She had expected to be back before now, which is why she'd left her sweater in the hotel.

“Well, happy late birthday. It was nice having dinner with your family. I've missed them.”

“They've missed you, too. I could tell that dad was happy you came along. He hasn't talked that much during a dinner since the last time you came over.” Henry smiled fondly. "I'm glad that you came, Nelly." Hands in his pockets, Henry sauntered along beside Nell. Approaching the main entrance, he held the door allowing her to enter.

When he'd invited her for the weekend, he wasn't confident that she would come. Wrapped up in work, Nell didn't take too much time away from Dublin these days.

"It was a nice break from work." Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Nell bit her bottom lip. "I know that you are busy, but do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"I always have time to talk with you." Scanning the hotel lobby, Henry tried to find a spot for them to sit and chat privately. "Should we have a seat at the bar?"

"We could, but I would really like to change. Do you mind coming up with me? We can just talk in the room. It's probably more comfortable anyway."

"Is this about the wild boy?"

"Isn't it always?"

Laughing, Henry pushed the call button for the elevator. Their son was truly something else. One day he would surely take over the world; Henry could see that coming from the day he was born. To say Ivan was Henry's pride and joy would be a massive understatement. He lived for their son. This weekend having Ivan, and Nell, in Jersey had been fantastic. A short glimpse of what life could have been. The ding of the elevator brought Henry back from his brief fantasy.

He and Nell had split up several years ago, there wasn't much chance she would feel the same as he did. Lost in the thoughts of happy little family. Allowing Nell to step onto the elevator first, Henry stood silently with his hands clasped in front of him.

“So, Ivan has been doing well in school?” He may as well get this under way.

“Define doing well,” Nell snickered. “I get a call nearly every day from his teacher. The woman is impossible, but knowing our son, he isn't making it easy for her.”

“I was like that in school. Right up until the day I left.” Henry shrugged. The elevator gently bumping to a stop, he stepped forward to hold the door for Nell.

Muttering a thank you, Nell dug for her key card, leading the way down the hall. She loved this hotel, it was the only one she stayed in, if she could help it, while visiting the Island. A great view of the water on one side, the other dazzling with a fantastic look out into the city. The first time she'd ever been to Jersey, she had stayed in the hotel and fell in love with the charm. There were days when that felt like a life time ago.

Opening the door, Nell paused to allow Henry in. “Have a seat. Anywhere you'd like. Sorry it's kind of a mess. I'm going to change.”

The hotel room was anything but a mess, minus the few sketch books that Nell had dropped on the bed. Always working. Henry took a seat on the edge of the king sized bed, casually glancing at the colour coded notes and designs that Nell had in one of the open sketch books. Costumes. A few notes detailed leather armor and Viking era clothing. She'd done well for herself, since he'd met her. The same shy costume apprentice hiding out on set of The Tudors, was now helping drive forward the details of Vikings.

In the bathroom, Nell pulled off her dress. The fabric had became clingy after a while and she needed to be more relaxed. Running shorts and a tshirt would do the trick. Sighing at her reflection, she bit her bottom lip glancing down at her top. The worn coral Nike tshirt was her favourite, it was showing the love and wear in a few spots. Perhaps she should have picked something less frumpy? She was a busy, single mom she didn't have to look the part. Ah fuck, who cared. Henry certainly wouldn't.

He was here to discuss their son, not flirt with her until she gave in to that smile. Or got lost in his eyes, those gorgeous blue eyes – the left with the flecks of brown. His charm alone was enough to make anyone weak in the knees. Damn it, she needed to get over it. He had moved on. She needed to do the same.

Blowing out a breath, Nell reached for the door, pausing when she heard Henry talking. His tone told her that he was speaking to Ivan. Quietly slipping out of the bathroom, she smiled.

“Hold on, just a sec.” He pushed the screen of his phone, allowing the speaker to connect. “Alright, wild boy. Say goodnight to your mum.”

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan's voice filled the room. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ivan. Are you being a good boy?”

“Uh huh. I love you. Good night.”

“Good night, wild boy. I love you.”

“Night dad.”

“Good night, I love you. I'm going to be back soon, you go to bed and I will see you first thing in the morning.”

“Okay. Oh, dad, can Kal sleep in my room tonight?” Ivan was fond of the large black and white American Akita. Henry laughed.

“Of course he can. You and Kal go to bed, now.”

“Okay, bye.” A little too quickly, Ivan hung up the phone. Henry laughed at the eagerness, he would talk to his mother when he got back to the house. Making sure that Ivan and his dog had gone to bed as they were told, with no fuss.

"Can you believe he is growing this fast? My god where has that time gone?" Henry rubbed his hands against his face. His mustache and subtle stubble scratching his palms.

"Time is a cruel mistress." Rubbing her hands on her shorts, Nell stood. "Drink? I have a bottle of Johnnie Walker."

"Of course you do." Smirking, Henry shifted on the side of the bed. “I had a look at some of these designs, by the way. They're magnificent. My god, Nell, you are so talented.”

“You're saying that to be nice,”

Shaking his head, Henry accepted the glass, resting it on his knee. “No, I am saying it because its true. You are one of the most talented costumers that I had ever met. Are you enjoying the job?”

“I love it.” Nell smiled, leaning against the large wooden desk in the corner. “The work is great, the people are amazing, and Ivan is really enjoying it. I'm glad we went.”

“Good, that's good. He talks about it, a lot. He really seems to love being there. I'm glad. Once things settle, I am going to try and come visit. I kind of miss it, Dublin.”

“You should.” She smiled fighting the urge to scoff and roll her eyes. Henry was always busy. He'd make it to Dublin, when Hell froze over. “So, how is work coming on this new character.”

“I can't say much, but I can say that I will be happy when I can shave.” He rubbed the mustache expertly. “It's not as bad as some of the beards that I've had to grow, but it's not my favourite look.”

“You look good with a beard. I know you hate them, but you do.”

Leaning forward to set his glass on the bedside table, Henry licked the whiskey off of his lips. “I'm glad to have that compliment.”

“Sure.” Nell nodded, tipping her glass to finish the drink. “Another?”

“Uh, I'm good.” Henry motioned to his glass. Rubbing his hands across his jeans, he furrowed his brow. “I've been thinking, since I am fairly busy the next few months, what if I keep Ivan for a few extra days? Once you leave, I will take him back to London with me, until I have to go.”

Shifting on the bed, her face warm from the second glass of whiskey, Nell sniffled and cleared her throat. “What about school?”

“What about it? He isn't going to miss much, is he? They're nearly finished up and I don't know how long it will be, until I see him. Possibly not until Christmas.”

All he wanted was to spend a little time with his son, was that so hard? His next move would have to be calculated, Nell had been known to stat arguments over less. If Henry wanted to avoid a shouting match, he would have to go about this carefully. Reaching for his glass, he downed the remaining contents in one large gulp. Sighing.

“I want to hang out with him a little. It wouldn't be more than three days extra. Then you get some time alone, as well. Nell, I know that you need a bit of a break. You work so hard and take care of Ivan, please.”

“If you want to, then I suppose I can't really say no. What kind of mother would I be, if I didn't let you see him?”

“Don't say things like that, please.” Henry reached out, his hand taking hers. Gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “You are a wonderful mum. You know that.”

“Sometimes, I feel like I could do better. I really do.” Nell shrugged, allowing Henry to continue holding her hand.

“All parents feel that way, I am sure. I know that I feel like that, all the time. I guess it's natural, always wanting to do better, to be better, for our children.”

There he went again. There were times when Nell could not stand to be near him, other times she wanted to be as close as possible. Damn it. Watching him talk about Ivan and the few extras days they would be together, Henry's eyes lit up. His smile broad and the enthusiasm in his voice was one that dictated proud father. Nell nodded, only because she felt it was appropriate to the conversation.

Henry continued to chatter about how he wanted to take Ivan to a new exhibit at the Natural History Museum, in London. Leave it to the father and son, finding a day at the museum to be high on the list of fun. Nell sighed, continuing to half listen, half gaze at Henry in awe. One thing she loved – well love could be a strong word – adored? Enjoyed? About Henry was how much he loved Ivan.

Mid sentence about some Sir David Attenborough documentary that he'd watched with Ivan; Nell couldn't help it any longer. Leaning in, without warning, she grabbed Henry's face turning it to her and kissing him. Lips connecting, she stopped and jumped back as if hit by an electric shock.

Clearing his throat, Henry rubbed the back of his neck, but not pulling back. “I didn't know that the National Geographic was that exciting.”

“I'm sorry.” Hiding her face in her hands, Nell shook her head. Oh that had been a mistake. She had absolutely no right. None. Henry was crazy, if he didn't get up right now and walk out. If he was angry, then she deserved that.

Blushing, Nell shook her head. “Henry, I shouldn't have.”

“I'm certainly not going to complain.” He shrugged, leaning in his arm sliding around her shoulder. Nell glanced up, getting the nerves to look at him. Oh she had fucked up. “Next time, I would like some warning though.”

“Warning? Next time?”

“Hmm, yes. Kind of like this, close your eyes.” Henry instructed pulling her closer and kissing her. Nell sighed her body melting against him. She loved the way his lips felt on hers. Soft, with a slight force.

Straddling his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, Nell's fingers laced together. Her lips leaving his, tracing along his jaw, nearing the sweet spot below his ear. A slight nip and he was an unraveling mess. Henry nuzzled his face into her hair, she smelled amazing. Comforting and warm. A groan erupted from deep in his throat, as predicted she had gone straight for that spot.

“Nell, Nell,” Henry cleared his throat, holding her at arm's length, “Janelle, stop.” Looking for any sort of sign that she truly felt that this wasn't a good idea, he sucked in a breath. “Are you sure about this? Because if we continue, I won't stop until...”

“I am.” She nodded firmly, “I don't want you to stop. I don't want to stop. Oh god, Henry. Please.”

“I need to know that you truly, absolutely want to do this.”

“If you don't stop talking and bend me over, I am going to kick you out and do this myself. Please, stop talking. If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have started it.”

A deep rumbling laugh followed, Henry rolled his eyes. God, she was something else. Who was he to deny a gorgeous woman what she wanted? Would this come back to haunt him? Probably. Did he care? Not much. Come morning they would once again go their separate ways, but that didn't matter right now. Right now, he could pretend that he had everything he wanted. And what he wanted was her.

Pulling her to him, Henry kissed her hard. Nell moaned, the force of the kiss was nearly dizzying. Arms around his neck, she rubbed her body against his, trying to grasp the friction that was created when she started to grind herself against his thighs.

“Henry,”

“Hold on, you need patience.” He brushed a bit of hair out of her face, “all in good time.”

Nell squealed when he stood, her legs desperately scrambling to hold onto him. In a futile attempt she huffed, when he let her go, standing in front of him pouting. Unbuttoning his shirt, Henry smirked giving her a heated stare. “Well, are you going to get on the bed or make me do all the work? Shorts off.”

Sliding the mesh shorts down her ass and along her legs, Nell made a bit of a show letting them pool at her feet. Stepping out, as slowly as possible, while lifting the old tshirt from her body. Allowing it to go where it would, as she dropped it. Sitting back on the bed, she could feel her heart in her throat and her stomach where her heart should be.

“Lie back.” Henry instructed, kneeling at the edge of the bed. Arms around her thighs, guiding her to him, he studied her for a moment. She was trembling as his fingers slid across her thighs, positioning her in just the right way.

“Oh god, Hen-Henry.” Nell's mouth was suddenly dry and her voice hoarse. His hot breath between her legs was tormenting her, in unimaginable ways. In anticipation she bucked her hips forward, trying to clench her thighs. Holding her knees with his shoulders, Henry chuckled.

“Eager.”

“Please.”

“You are...” He lingered, kissing the inside of her leg. “Gorgeous. Look at you.” He brushed his thumb against her. Nell whimpered trying to push further. “Hold on, hold on.”

“Why are you teasing me?”

“Because I want to enjoy the view, for a moment.” He shrugged, her legs lifting gently. A hand on her lower abdomen, as if holding her in place, he used the other to gently tease and trace along her calf. Without warning, his lips attached to the most sensitive part of her body with his mustache adding an extra sensation, Nell bucked her hips hard, shoving his face further between her thighs.

Nell's head was swimming, it had been a while since she'd felt this good from such an act. Sure, she'd had the odd date here and there, semi-serious relationships, but nobody could do this the way Henry could. He was a fucking magician, she was certain of it. Humming against her mound, Henry couldn't hide the laughter in his eyes, when she began to squirm and wiggle against his face. She was desperate and he was going to prolong this as much as he could.

Sucking her clit, his tongue generously lapping at her, he thoroughly enjoyed the show. Pushing his head as far down as she could, Nell was nearly in tears each time he leaned in, his mustache tickling in just the right way. Oh god, she gasped trying hard to find release. Henry was cunning, backing off at the right moments.

“Henry,” She whined, threading her fingers through his hair. “Don't tease me, I really need you to finish.”

“Stop being so impatient.” He was teasingly stern. Pushing her hands away, he locked his fingers with hers, holding them at her side. Lifting his head, he smirked, kissing up her body ending with another dizzying kiss. Nell sucked on his tongue, freeing her hands from his, she tugged him closer, pulling at fistfuls of hair.

Cleaning herself from his tongue and lips, she sighed. “I'm going to need more than that.”

“You're sure?” Henry paused, holding his weight on his forearms, resting above her. His jeans still on, he could feel the strain against the denim.

“Jeans, off.” She demanded, sitting up to watch. Shivering against the slight chill, her breasts on display giving him the perfect view of her erect nipples. Nell blushed under his gaze. She was not the tight, toned, and perky body she once was. She wasn't out of shape, by any means, but compared to Henry...

“You are gorgeous.” Henry complimented, his jeans on the floor, boxers being pushed down to join them. Stepping out of his pants, he stood at the side of the bed, in all his glory.

Nell licked her lips, reaching out to take him in her hand. Hissing under her touch, Henry involuntarily bucked his hips forward into her hand. Rubbing the head, Nell intently watched Henry while she leaned in taking him fully in her mouth.

“Fuck, Nelly.”

“Hmm,” She hummed, sliding her head back along his length. Hand wrapped around him, stroking in place of her mouth. Bobbing her head back down, she swirled her tongue around the base. He nearly choked her the first time she'd ever gone down on him. Oh how long ago that felt.

Dragging her tongue against his length, she felt her core tighten, with each moan Henry gave. His slight salty taste mixed with the aftertaste of the Johnnie Walker, Nell inhaled deeply through her nose, hollowing her cheeks around him. Gripping the back of her head, Henry tried to not force her too hard, as he began to guide her movement.

Happy to go along with what he needed to feel good, Nell allowed him control over her guidance. Her finger nails grazing the back of his thighs, she mentally checked the small victory when he threw his hips forward at the sensation of her wrapped around him and her nails on his skin.

“Good girl,” Henry mumbled, his head lulling back, his chest rising rapidly. “Keep it up, just like that. Oh shit,”

Nell's chest swelled a little, she could still make him feel good, even after all of this time apart. That was not something she would take lightly, even if this shouldn't be happening. Oh fuck, who cared? They were two consenting adults. Henry's legs quivered, his hands unsteady stroking the back of her head.

“Nell,”

“Hmm?” She glanced up at him. His face soft and his jaw slack, she could feel him tightening. The perfect time to stop her actions. “Not yet,” She smirked, wiping her hand across her chin, drool gone. “Fair is fair.”

“Jesus,” Henry grumbled. He had been so fucking close, the knot in the pit of his stomach clenched Slowing his breathing, he took a moment to think of anything else. Laundry? Running? How much longer until he had to renew his passport?

“Henry?”

“Yeah?” He snapped his head to look at Nell.

“Are we going to stand here all night, or...” She shrugged, a devious smirk on her face. Laying back on the bed, she curled her finger beckoning him to her.

“You're still sure about this?” Henry asked. His eyes on her, waiting to see if she had any hint of doubt or hesitation.

“I don't have a condom, but I'm clean. It's not like I'm getting pregnant, so....” If she were to get pregnant, there was going to be on hell of a hefty lawsuit against that surgeon.

“You're sure? I know that I'm...but I don't have.”

“if you don't want to, then I understand.”

“I do, though, but...”

Nell shook her head. “No buts. If you want me, then I'm yours.”

“Fuck, you're making this hard.”

Giggling, Nell glance down. “I think we're beyond things being hard.”

His body betraying him, Henry cleared his throat, she certainly had a point. Fuck it. What did they have to lose? Unless this, some how, came back to bite them. No, no he had to stop that. Give in, enjoy what was happening. It had been too long since he'd been able to watch her in such bliss. Bliss that he was responsible for.

“You're sure?”

Nell nodded siting up, opening her arms, “Come here.”

On the edge of the bed, Henry sighed, his large frame leaning into her. Nell held him for a moment, stroking his hair, the feel of his warmth against her sent shivers through her spine. Pushing him back on the bed, she bit her bottom lip, waiting for the go ahead. Henry gave her a slight nod, adjusting himself on the bed to get comfortable. Straddling his hips, Nell lifted herself to slowly take him.

Sheathing him inch by inch, Nell groaned at the fullness. This was her favourite part, taking him to the end, feeling him stretch her. Rocking her hips forward, she countered the motion sliding them back in the same tantalizing pace. Henry held her hips, pushing his up to meet her. Nell squeaked and giggled. She loved the way he hit all the right spots.

“You can touch me, don't be shy.” Nell winked, lifting her arms and crossing them above her head, allowing him a full view of her breasts. “Go on.” She encouraged.

His large hands cupping her breasts, Henry softly rolled her hardening nipples between his fingers, giving on a slight flick when she moved herself up on his length. Close to letting him slide out, she moved back down, her ass grinding against him.

The way her body moved against his was mesmerizing. Massaging her supple skin, from her breasts down her sides, one hand settling on her ass and the other on her hip. Henry loved the shape, even if she had changed a little since having Ivan. God she was stunning.

Hastening her pace, Nell rocked back and forth, up and down. Henry closed his eyes feeling every bit of movement, each clench. Taking in the sounds of her breathing, mixed with his, her small moans not going unnoticed.

“Henry,” She whispered, biting her bottom lip, leaning forward to touch her lips against his. “Please,”

Without having to be asked twice, he moved swiftly, turning them over to pin her beneath him. Nell sighed and stretched her arms over her head, the pull of her muscles caused another shiver. Her head now against the pillow, she reached, tracing the lines of his face with her fingertip.

“I don't know that I can be as slow as you were.” Henry nipped her finger. Holding back on his desire to pound her into the bed.

“Then don't.” Nell batted her eye lashes at him.

Somehow that was all he needed, that tiny bit of permission. Picking up the pace, Henry grunted. Nell moaned drawing her knees upward, allowing him an even better vantage to this position. As if the pent up emotions from the last few years, hours, minutes had been released the couple were lost in the sensation of skin on skin. The feeling of sparks and electricity coursing through them. Connecting them.

“Fuck, Janelle.” Henry hissed, his arm locked into position on either side of her head, keeping him from tumbling on top of her.

“Henry,” She squealed splaying her hands against his chest, tugging at the soft hairs. “Oh god. Please, don't stop. My god, oh fuck.”

“You are fucking amazing. Fuck, look at you.” Kissing her roughly, he sighed, steadying his pace. His hips slapping hers, Nell shook slightly her soft sobs of pleasure were enough to send him to an end.

Shaking with pleasure, Nell gasped trying to bring herself down from the high. Henry moaned, his head back and chest heaving. It had been a while since he had felt that good. Nell laid with her legs hooked around his thighs, no desire to move. Collapsing with his head on her chest, Henry allowed his body to rest. Sweaty and sticky, they laid tangled together. Neither one wanting to break the feeling.

Dosing in and out, Nell was the first to move. Her body growing heavy with Henry still on top of her. She needed to move, before seizing up. Pushing his head to the side, she giggled and kissed the tip of her nose when he lazily looked up.

“I need to pee,”

“Hmph.” Henry nodded, slowly rolling over. Allowing her to escape. Laying flat on the bed, while she scurried off to the bathroom, Henry pushed himself up off of the bed. He should be getting back to his parents, back to Ivan.

All thoughts of moving were squashed, when Nell came back, climbing in beside him. Her clothes still on the floor. Her body was comforting against his. “Hi,” she whispered, sliding in under his arm.

“Nell?” Henry laid with his arm around her shoulder.

“Huh?” Nell grunted, her face buried in his chest.

“I should head back.”

“If you want to. You can stay, I don't mind.” Nell yawned. Her eyes closing.

“Okay, but only for a little while.” Henry agreed, closing his eyes. In a few minutes, he would get up, shower, and head back.

With a start, Henry woke, a loud banging noise rattling him. Looking around the dark room, he squinted to find the source of the noise. Hearing someone whispering at a distance, Henry laid in bed, listening. Against him, Nell stirred, but didn't wake. Someone in the hall was talking, no doubt they had been the source of the banging. He had fell asleep, Nell wrapped against him.

Looking at his watch, Henry frowned. 4am. If he left right now, he could be back before anybody woke. If he left now, he risked Kal barking and waking the house. If he waited, he would risk walking in and having to explain himself to one or more person. Of course he could tell them that he'd ran into some old friends, had some drinks and stayed on a sofa somewhere. Too drunk to drive.

Shifting in bed, Nell sighed, her arm around his waist she snuggled in closer. She was content, who was Henry to try and disturb her sleep? He would wait an hour or two, before he made his departure. So what if he waltzed in, being faced by one of his brothers, or even his mother. He was an adult, if he wanted to stay out all night enjoying the company of a fantastic woman, then he would do just that.

Kissing the top of Nell's head, Henry smiled, sinking down further into the covers, closing his eyes.

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#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #oddsnendshenryfics

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anlian-aishang · 4 years ago

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omg hi !!! for 12 days of levi i would love 36 & 41 said by reader if that’s okay !

omg hi !!! thank you so much for the request! :D I am having so much self-indulgent fun with this event ^^ so I really appreciate the request, anon! I hope you can enjoy <3

I also wanted to make an announcement about Twelve Days of Levi as a whole. For one, requests are still open. Two, I decided to extend it. I will be accepting requests for this event through December 31st and then posting fics until I have fulfilled them all - whenever that is!

36. Taking a bath together 41. “I ran you a bath since it’s freezing outside.”

Word Count: 1700 words Tags: fluff, slight/sfw undressing

It was late afternoon, barely the evening, but it would soon feel like midnight. With the sunset hour befalling earlier every day, nighttime’s arrival was a recurring surprise. With the last shred of daylight, you gave your last look out the window. Soon enough, it would be pitch black and you would see nothing but your own worried reflection. Still, there was no sign of them - the Scouts, no sign of him - Levi.

How many nights is that now? Three? Four? Starting to lose track... Fingertips drifted to your temples where they drew tiny, repetitive circles. It was hard not to be anxious, especially when you knew that he probably was. His upbringing was not exactly warm and fuzzy, neither in the emotional sense nor the physical sense. For most, winter was a nostalgic time with family, a time to unwind and take things slow. For him, it was far from that - marked mainly by freezing temperatures, cold conditions, and chilling memories. Someday, you hoped, you could make him see winter how you saw it. However, like the season itself, you knew that the changes would be gradual.

You peeled yourself away from the window and took a deep breath. As clear as the night sky above, as he had calmed you a thousand times before, his cool voice rang in your head: There’s no use worrying about it. You knew he would get home, you knew he would be okay, and if he was not, you knew how to get him there.

Still, you knew there was more that you could do than to just sit and twiddle your thumbs. Rolling up your sleeves, Time to get to work.

// // //

Levi flung the front door open, at last letting himself in along with some cold wind and stray snowflakes. He was surprised not to see you right away. Usually, you would be sat in the living room, waiting for him. As his ears thawed out of their numbness, he picked up the sound of the bathwater running. After stomping off his boots, unwinding his scarf, hanging up his coat, he found you in the bathroom - kneeling at the edge of the tub.

“Hey.”

“Oh! Hey!” His voice startled you at first, but you ran to him immediately - instinctively. “Good to have you home.” A brief kiss left your own lips cold, his touch felt frozen.

“Good to be home,” he sighed. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, right.” Behind you, the tub was steaming, “I ran you a bath since it’s freezing outside.”

The unexpected kindness made his brows lift and lips part, “That’s… That’s really nice of you.”

You read his reaction as apprehension, at which you hurriedly tacked on, “I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to!”

At last, a warm smile melted his chill, “There’s only one thing I would enjoy more.”

Levi looped his arms around your chest, hugging you from behind. His body was still cold, but the temperature was not the source of your shivers. Even with him at your back, you could read him perfectly. As he nuzzled his face into your neck, you replied, “Count me in.”

// // //

As the water neared the brim, you squeezed a generous amount of bubble bath under the faucet’s splash. Not only because he had a long day, but because this lavender would have to be enough for two.

Even as you did so, Levi already began undressing you. Calloused fingers hooked underneath the hem of your shirt and lifted up over your head. Hands made Cs at your hips and pushed your panties down past your ankles. Once again, he had you shaking - but you knew he was probably too tired for anything more than this tonight. On the other hand, his contact played with your mind. Maybe this bath will energize him - then maybe we can…

You heard him start to work on himself, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shirt. You turned over your shoulder and gave a playful glance, “Captain…” eager hands went to his clothes, taking control over them, from him. “You’ve had a long day. Let me take care of you.”

Levi exhaled a single breath, a slight chuckle was a mix of arousal and amusement. He bit his lip, grounding himself, before lifting his arms above his head and submitting, “I’m all yours.”

As he had to you, your fingertips danced at the seams of his shirt, undoing each button in a tango. You were split: wanting to savor each inch but also wanting to tear at him hungrily. It was a contrast you did not quite resolve, resulting in an unpredictable pace that made his heart pound. Maybe it was not a warm bath he needed, but a cold shower. Maybe both.

With both your clothes to the floor, you took a mutual moment to take in the sight of the other. The flush on his body was endearing. Though you knew it was natural to come from the weather, you could not help but think that it was at least partly thanks to you. His glow intensified as he sunk himself into the bath. Feet to calves, hips to chest, he finally rested his shoulders over the edge and tilted his head back.

You followed him in shortly after. Even though you had been indoors all day, this felt exactly like what you had been missing. You could not imagine how relieved he must have been feeling, and you did not have to. Clearly spelled out was his relaxation: slowed breathing, eyes fluttered shut, a sigh that made your heart thump told you: he was already feeling better. Even better once I…

From the opposite end of the tub, you crawled to his side and perched yourself on top of his lap. You painted his front with body wash and slowly started sponging. “So,” a domestic, flirtatious tone, “how was your day today?”

“Tch…” That said it all. “I’m sure yours was better.”

You snickered, “Well, I asked you first.” It was a childish stance, but one neither of you minded. “Plus, I’m sure yours was at least more interesting.”

Levi sighed, streams of soapy water flowing down his body, “I guess you could say that.”

Steel grey gaze dwindled at the water, at your touch, at you. Meanwhile, reading between the lines, you tried to conjure up an idea of how the venture had gone. The air stayed silent for a handful of moments, sans the sloshing of water as you scrubbed his torso, pecs, shoulders.

Clearing your throat, “Levi?”

“Mmm?”

“Turn around?”

As he spun, a thankful smile spread across his lips. On the other end, you could not see it - only taking you further down your train of thought. With your washcloth, you drew circles on his back and wondered:

How did the expedition go?

Did anyone get hurt?

Did he get hurt?

Did anything go wrong?

Did anything go right?

His head tilted back slowly, black locks brushing against your chest and interrupting your inner dialogue. “Ah- ahh…” Shaky breaths were followed by a vicious snap forward, “Ah’tchu!”

Even though his relaxation was your priority for the evening, you could not help but startle at the sudden sneeze. A tiny squeal fell past your lips, but with his back to your front, the sound fell right against his ear - resounding no matter the attempt to conceal.

Levi rubbed his finger under his nose, recovering. Still, you were the one he cared for. “Sorry. Did I scare you?”

“N-No!” Unconvincingly.

Levi cursed under his breath, “... those shitty brats.” He tilted his neck down towards the water and gave two slow shakes of his head.

Uncertain, “Levi?” You stammered a bit, “Are you sick?”

A couple of troubled sniffles answered for you, “It’d be a miracle if I wasn’t.” He continued, “Those goddamn snot-faced recruits, the germs they share… the worst part of winter.”

The last five words caught you off-guard, “Wait… what was that?”

“I swear. Something about those barracks, if you don’t keep them clean, colds spread like wildfire.”

You knit your brows for a second. “No. No. I mean…” your scrubbing gradually came to a halt, “the worst part about winter?”

Levi turned over his shoulder, eventually back around completely, “Yeah? You don’t think?”

You tucked your lips under your teeth. All that thinking you had done at the window, how distraught, anxious, upset he probably was on this winter expedition - you wondered - just how off the mark had you been?

You could not help but ask bluntly, “I thought you hated winter?”

Levi thought it over. Indeed, he certainly used to. In fact, he used to loathe it. Winter was not only the toughest of times, but it was an annual anxiety for all the reasons you had thought. However, he only realized now: after time spent with you, it was not just his perspective that changed, but the season itself as well. Meager meals had been replaced by hot feasts. Icy pale with flushed faces. Snowy blizzards with steam baths for example.

Levi reached a hand to your face, caressing your cheek. At last, you saw his trademark smile, assuring you that you had done - that you were - all he needed and more. There was a lot he could say, but the old saying encased it all, “Seasons change.”

You smiled in his hold and instinctively leaned in. Instead of his lips, though, two fingertips met your mouth.

“You know, come to think of it…” his monotone dashed with flair, one that made you feel more than giddy, “there is one thing I hate more than sick brats at the base.”

You smiled and spoke against his fingertips, knowing, “And what would that be?”

Slick fingers ran through your hair, taking a tangle and bringing your foreheads together, “one in my house.”

Twelve Days of Levi 2020 Masterlist

#levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #twelve days of levi 2020 #my writing #alias's

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elliewritessometimes · 3 years ago

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hello! me n @mattieswheelers wrote another fic!! tiff is the most incredible writing partner and i- i just love them???? thanky so much for writing with me you are a stunning writer aaaa (y'all there will be a second chapter stay tuned fdhhddh aLSO we are posting this on ao3 it will be there at some point)

in other news: this was originally a request!! @notsomightymightytiger it may have taken me uh- a good couple of months but here is your fic!!!

for reference, these numbers apply to these tropes: first kiss/flowers of romance/blind date

LOVE YOU KIERA AND TIFF AAAAA HOPE YOU LIKE

tw: swearing, alcohol and drunkenness but not in an angsty farrah way just in a silly oops first date way, as per usual if there's anything at all you want me to tag let me know :D

---

Eva thought she was doing perfectly fine without a romantic partner. Her life was normal, one filled with work and friends and scrolling through Pinterest.

Apparently, in the eyes of her best friend, this was not a normal life. Farrah had always been a bit extra, that one kid in highschool who always seemed to know where the best parties were, or who was known by name to the baristas at the local Starbucks, and by the ripe old age of 22, she believed that a romantic partner was crucial to living a fulfilling life.

Or, at least, that you should at least try romance once before becoming a hermit in the woods, especially if your name was Eva Sanchez.

(“Look, normally I wouldn’t be like this,” Farrah drawled, leaning against a counter, “But deep inside you are nothing but a useless gay at heart-”

Her phone buzzed.

“-and you haven’t dated anyone, like, ever, and if I have to be the only one constantly dragging you out to social gatherings, I’m going to die early. So do me a solid, will you?”

“Hey-!”)

Eva did not agree.

But, she was a loyal friend, and that was how she found herself sitting in an overly posh restaurant on some random blind date with some random person that she’d never even seen before. It would be an understatement to say she was a little bit nervous, but then again, whenever Farrah was involved, that was normal.

***********: hi sorry i got your number from the blind date place thing but uh are you the person at the table in the corner

***********: ???denim jacket ?? pride pin??

Eva smiled, glancing up at the door. There was another person looking a little lost in the entrance, very obviously trying not to draw attention to themselves, their phone held close to their face as they squinted around at the restaurant. They were pretty, dark hair pulled up into a loose ponytail, obviously not dressed for a restaurant as upper class as this one. Eva liked them immediately. Raising a hand, she waved in their direction, laughing as her date gasped dramatically, hurrying over and nearly overturning a tray of drinks on their way.

“Hello.”

“Look-” Eva’s date slumped in the seat opposite, one hand awkwardly held behind their back. “I dunno about you, but I certainly did not willingly sign up for this. You see, my friend wanted me to apparently live a more interesting life and stop relying on Tumblr as my only source of interaction with anyone, and my friend is very persuasive, so here I am.”

Eva raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so I wanted to get that out of the way before we even introduce ourselves. I am here out of spite only, so, uh, I hope you’re not too desperate.” They paused, finally taking a breath. “Right. The more I think about this, the more embarrassed I get.”

“It’s okay.” Eva gave a noise which sounded suspiciously like a snort. “Let’s not think about it then. I’m Eva. She/her. It’s nice to meet you, unwilling datemate.”

They grinned. “Kate. She/they.” She gasped a little like she’d forgotten something. “Oh! I brought flowers. Chess said it would be romantic.”

Eva accepted the offered flowers with a blush. This date was going better than expected. Farrah was going to lose her shit when she heard about it. “Wait- You have a friend called Chess?? Like, the game???”

Kate rolled their eyes, casually snatching a bright pink cocktail off a passing waiter’s tray. “Duh. You didn’t really see me walk in this fucking posh ass restaurant in my flannel and converse and think I’d be normal, right?”

Eva laughed then, properly. It had only been a few short, chaotic minutes, but she was already warming to this mystery person and, God, they had good taste in flowers. Even if Eva’s nerd hermit brain did helpfully choose that moment to remind her that this particular bunch of flowers presented a meaning that translated almost exactly to ‘fuck you’. She wondered if Kate was aware of that. However, perhaps that was a fun fact for the second date.

“Hey, Eva?” Kate was slightly tipsy. Only a little bit! Really not that bad. Not at all. Definitely not too drunk for a first date. Shut up. “Hey! You’re- so cool.”

Eva giggled - she was equally as drunk, but not quite so intoxicated as to stop wondering why the restaurant hadn’t thrown them out yet. “Noooooo. ‘m a nerd.”

“Yeah, but a cool nerd.” Kate twirled the decorative candle between her fingers, drawing stares from disapproving patrons. The flame reflected in Eva’s glasses, making her just a little bit more smitten by the second. They enclosed their hand around the candle holder as best they could, standing up just a little shakily. “Eva-” It was like they got a rush from just saying her name. Eva thought it was endearing. “Hey- we- we should go…”

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes, also standing up, her long-discarded denim jacket slung over one arm, the other naturally slipping to link arms with Kate.

“....Arson.” Kate sounded entirely serious, still twizzling the candle in one hand. Eva blinked dumbly at her, mouth slightly open. They pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Eva’s mouth, giggling uncharacteristically at the motion. “I’m jokingggg! Don’t look so shook, my dude.”

Eva stuttered a little, letting Kate pull her finally out of the restaurant, marvelling at the fact she’d only known this incredible, crazy person for a matter of hours. Who knew where tonight would take them?

They found themselves in a park, gazing up at the stars, now dim in the reflections of the city lights. Kate’s phone flashed 11:46 in the dark, the lock screen filled with notifications from a contact who’s name consisted only of a chess piece.

Eva lay down on the grass, spreading her arms out towards the stars. “Do you ever think about life?”

“Sure. All the time. I’m alive, and so are you, and I think you’re really pretty. Does that count?” Kate flopped down beside her.

“I- I mean, yeah- um,” Eva tried not to sound flustered, thankful for the darkness that hid the color rising in her cheeks. “But like, life. Scientifically. Relatively.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, I totally do. Um. Do I?”

Eva laughed, turning her head slightly to gaze at Kate. Under the light of the stars, they looked… ethereal. And really, really, really beautiful. And-

Eva coughed slightly, turning back towards the night sky. “Just… think about it. I’m lying here beside you, on a giant marble that hurtles through space. Relatively speaking, our orbit and path are unique, and all around us, the other planets are… swirling in harmony, and we’re just. We’re just here to see it.”

Kate hummed. “You sound like those philosophical people, all ‘if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, did it really fall?’ and ‘relatively speaking I am relatively here, and I’m relatively certain… blah blah blah.’”

“Huh. Do I?” Eva shrugged, putting her hands behind her head. “I dunno. I’m drunk. I think. Oh, no, I’m relatively drunk, ha ha- okay no, I’m just drunk.”

“You are,” Kate nodded wisely. “We both are.”

“Do you know what Albert Einstein said once?” Eva asked abruptly, closing her eyes. “He said, ‘When you’re courting a nice girl, an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder, a second seems like an hour. That's relativity.’ And if that isn’t the most relatable thing he’s ever said, then, well- okay yeah I’ve lost my train of thought.”

“Wow,” said Kate. “Did Albert Einstein court lots of nice girls?”

“Pfft.” Eva rolled onto her side, laughing openly in Kate’s face. “Sure. Why not.”

They rolled to face Eva, curling up into a ball, softer than the 22-year-old had seen her all evening. “Not as nice as the one I’m courting right now.”

“Even though neither of us really wanted to be here earlier?”

“Yeah. Y’know, I’m fucking glad our best friends basically set us up. It’s very pog of them.”

“You did not just say ‘pog’. You did not.” Eva groaned into the slightly damp, slightly disgusting grass, listening to Kate cackle next to her.

“Shit, dude, my secret’s out. I’m just as much of a nerd as you.” She leant their head on Eva’s outstretched arm, burrowing into her side.

Eva paused then, draping her other arm around Kate, thinking quietly. It was stupid, really, that they were cuddling in the openness of a park at almost midnight. Dangerous, definitely, especially when you took in the candle still flickering far too close to Kate’s now loose hair. Some more sensible people, maybe Farrah’s sister, would say that it was stupid how close they’d grown in so few hours. But Kate and Eva weren’t sensible people, not really, and maybe this was completely normal for them. Nerds lived life differently. “We’re not like other girls… we’re nerds.”

Kate barked out a laugh again, pressing yet another small kiss to the top of Eva’s head.

Eva thought she might melt into a puddle right then and there.

God, she was so in love.

Kate looked up at the sky. “Y’know, for all your philosophical talk, you should be an inspirational speaker. Be on goddamn TedTalks or something, blow the crowd away with all that ‘the future’s in the palm of my hand!!’ bullshit.”

“Well,” Eva said, trying to sound completely sober (and failing), “I think all I could ever want is in the palm of my hand, right now.”

Kate paused for a moment, registering the fact that Eva had just cupped her hands around their face. “Wow. That was smooth.”

“Right?? I’m honestly impressed and I was the one who said it. Wait, is that hubris? Oh shoot, am I developing an ego? Or maybe I’m just drunk?” Eva’s head was seriously starting to hurt.

“You deserve an ego,” Kate nodded sagely. “You are so amazing. Seriously. You should have an ego. Dab on the haters and all that jazz, right? Right.”

Eva giggled, unable to take her eyes away from Kate’s. “What the shit?”

“Dude! Dab on the haters. ‘m fuckin’ right, and you know I am.”

“Mkay.”

“Lit.” Kate dragged her gaze from Eva’s, instead staring up at the stars. “If we weren’t drunk right now, I’d be kissing the hell out of you.”

Eva pouted. Apparently Drunk-Eva was limited to the facial expressions of a twelve year old. “Who’s to say you can’t kiss me now.”

“We’re drunk, Eva.” They waved their hands, casually flipping off the moon. “Consent.”

“If you think about drunk...ness. Drunkenness? Drunkness. Whatever.” She coughed. “If you think about it like maths, then because we’re both drunk, it cancels out, right? Like, drunk you minus drunk me equals zero drunks overall, yeah?” Pausing, she ran a hand over her face, watching Kate smirk and wriggle closer out of the corner of her eye. “What I’m saying is, yes, I give you permission to kiss me-” Kate leaned closer and Eva laid a gentle finger on their lips. “But only if I get to kiss you back.”

The two met in the middle, naturally coming together. Some might describe them as magnets, two poles attracted, unable to stay away from each other. Others might say soulmates, meant to find each other from birth. Or, just maybe, stars, gravitationally pulled together, ready to explode into another plane of existence, one so different from our reality that we can’t even begin to imagine the wonders that they’ll find.

However, this is reality, and somehow Kate and Eva are still grounded on our Earth, stars maybe, but ones made of ancient stardust no longer free to travel the universe. They found themselves pulling apart after two worlds collided, an unknown period of time passing as it happened. Eva’s fingers didn’t untangle themselves from their comfortable seat amongst Kate’s hair, the closeness making their noses brush, spouting giggles from both young adults.

“Well, that was fun.” Kate brushed hair out of Eva’s face, one arm still wrapped tight around her waist, pulling her closer as she shivered in the night air.

“Yeah?” Eva pressed her forehead to theirs. “Why don’t we try it again, huh?”

---

“I told you so,” Farrah smirked, picking at a freshly baked blueberry muffin. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Eva huffed, failing to come up with an argument.

Over by the kitchen counter, Mattie snorted. “I find it kinda funny that the single girl insists that love is the answer to anything.”

“Well- it’s not like I’ve never dated!”

“Suuuuure,” Mattie rolled her eyes, hopping off the counter and snatching a muffin. “Anyways, at least Eva has a significant other now. That’s the biggest victory, right? Other than the celebratory muffins, of course.”

Eva sighed. “Is it really that big of a deal that Farrah’s plan worked?”

“Yep!” Farrah grinned, taking a bite of muffin.

“Technically, my plan, but okay,” Mattie shrugged.

Eva almost dropped her muffin. “What.”

Mattie grinned, a devilish glint appearing in her eye. “Believe it or not, I am also friends with none other than the amazing Chess, and since her friend Kate- who is also my friend, by the way- was being a mopey mess around the same time as you, I just had to take it upon myself to play matchmaker! So I’d like at least 50% of the credit and reward, please and thank you.”

“I- what-” Eva sputtered, trying to come to terms with the new information. “Mattie- you- oh my God.”

“Oh my God indeed,” Mattie bit into her muffin and swallowed. “So anyways, you’re welcome for getting you a girlfriend.”

Eva stared at the younger girl, mouth slightly open and muffin hanging loosely in her hand. Farrah clapped a hand over her mouth as she wheezed through a mess of sugar and blueberries, earning herself a death stare from Eva. Phone in one hand, Mattie continued eating her muffin as though nothing had happened, the teasing look on her face only exaggerating as her phone pinged with a message. “Oh! Speaking of, Chess is outside-”

She was cut off as the door burst open, the handle crashing into Eva’s bookcase, knocking her alarm clock to the ground and presenting two dishevelled figures in the doorway. One of them, a tall student probably in their last year of uni, puffed out a breath, a hand tightly clinging to a much shorter student squirming angrily. “Before you say anything, I tried to prevent any of this happening. Wheeler, I’m blaming you entirely for this.”

Mattie only laughed, offering Chess a muffin with her free hand, “Dude, it was totally your idea.”

Eva tried very hard not to stare as Kate finally freed herself from Chess’ grasp with an indignant yelp. “Fuck off! Eva, babe, sweetheart, love of my life, tell me you didn’t fucking know about this beforehand or I will break up with you.”

“No! God, no! You know I didn’t want to be there just as much as you did.” She rested her head gently on top of Kate’s, arms draped over their shoulders. “Believe you me, I’ve also been sorely betrayed today.”

Farrah gagged across the kitchen. “Ew. We should never have set you two up.”

“Bitch.” Eva grinned affectionately at her best friend, batting Kate’s hand down as they sent a middle finger in Farrah’s direction. Conversations carried on for a while, Chess finally being introduced to Farrah, with a muffin being forcefully placed into her hand. Kate whispered to Eva for a second before going out to take a call. Eva smiled knowingly, leaning on the counter to address Mattie, “So…”

Mattie made a face as Eva raised an eyebrow in her direction. “What are you thinking, Sanchez, I don’t like that face.”

“I don’t know…” She feigned thinking, sticking her tongue out as Kate re-entered the room. “Maybe, a little thank-you gift?? Y’know, me and Kate were thinking just now… Seeing as you set us up so nicely, how about you try a blind date yourself?”

Chess and Farrah stifled a laugh in unison, choking a little on their muffins as Mattie’s eyes got wider in horror. “You didn’t.”

Kate smiled sweetly. “Yup! Tonight, seven thirty. It’s payback time, kid.”

“I hate you.”

#ITS HERE #AAAAA IM SO HYPED ABOUT THIS #fhsbdhsbdjs #tiff is the most wonderful writing partner i could ever ask for i love them so much heck #aLSO KIERA LOOKY #fhsbdjsn #caps tw #swearing tw #alcohol mention #Proper Tag Time™#we are the tigers #kate dalton #eva sanchez #kateva #chess watt #tiff (co author now we're a business)#kiera (yay for gay)

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years ago

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Ginger Snap, Chapter 3

A/N And just like that, here’s another chapter of Ginger Snap. This one has no Chef!Jamie (at least not in person, but he is the invisible third presence in the room) but read it anyway! He’ll be back in the next chapter, I promise.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my Ao3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

I appraised my reflection in a plate glass window. Today was my thirtieth birthday. I’d spent most of the day at a fancy salon having assorted hairs waxed, plucked and uncoiled. Twenty minutes in the capricious October wind, and my sleek hairstyle was on the verge mutiny. I smoothed it down as best I could with my palms, mentally shrugged my shoulders, then entered the upscale restaurant.

“Happy birthday, darling.” Frank left a dry kiss on my cheek, careful to not mar my make-up, as he greeted me. “You look very beautiful with your hair straight like that.”

It was clear why Frank had chosen the Witchery for my birthday celebration. Nestled against Edinburgh Castle, it radiated history with its dark woods, tapestry-covered walls, burgundy banquettes and faux Tudor painted ceiling. Everywhere crystal and silverware reflected the bountiful candlelight. I pictured Jamie’s thick-soled work boots striding across the antique Persian carpets towards the kitchen and had to suppress a giggle.

Frank stood respectfully while the maître d’ pulled out my chair. He played the part of the genteel academic to a tee. Ten years’ my senior, he sported thick-framed glasses, a full head of dark hair and a trim figure that spoke more to abstemious habits than vigorous exercise. Still, he was wearing his best tailored suit and the tie I’d bought him for Christmas. I reminded myself that I was lucky to be in a relationship with a decent, courteous and dependable man who offered me the stability my tumultuous childhood had been sadly lacking.

We conversed quietly as we each perused the leather-bound menus, the noise of other diners a discrete background hum. Frank told me all about the history of the sixteenth century oak panels that lined the room, and I listened politely.

“It’s so refreshing to see an establishment buck the trend of those horrendous open-style kitchens,” he pronounced with a dramatic shudder.

“Oh, I don’t know. I rather enjoy watching the orchestrated chaos that goes into making my meal. It’s like dinner theatre,” I contradicted.

“Some things are better appreciated unseen, darling. It’s like that gaudy museum we visited in Paris. Ductwork and elevator shafts on display along with the art. It’s tremendously distracting, and not at all the point.”

He was referring to our visit to the Pompidou Centre the previous summer. I had found the juxtaposition of modern art and naked architecture fascinating. Frank much preferred the Louvre.

I was saved from having to defend my opinion by the arrival of our waiter. Using a well-manicured fingernail to indicate his choices, Frank ordered for us both.

“The lady will have your Grand Cru Mambourg. I’ll start with a Lagavullin 16, and proceed to the Chambolle-Musigny with my main course,” he said with conviction.

“Very good, sir.” The waiter collected the enormous wine menu and decamped, having failed to even look me in the eye. A little ember of resentment glowed in my belly.

“How did you know what wine to order when I haven’t told you what I’ve chosen as my main course?” I challenged once the waiter was out of earshot.

Frank looked perplexed, as though we were acting in a play and I’d suddenly said the wrong lines after countless perfect dress rehearsals.

“It’s your birthday, darling. You always get lobster for your birthday.”

I thought about this. He wasn’t wrong. I liked lobster. The first time we celebrated together in Boston, on my twenty-fifth birthday, it had felt like a sophisticated, grown-up choice. But I never intended for it to become my only option.

The rest of the meal passed without event. Frank was more animated than usual, reaching across the table to caress my hand twice and joking that his Angus steak tartare appetizer made him feel like a veritable red-blooded carnivore.

Once our plates were cleared Frank cleared his throat and squared his shoulders in a way that reminded me of the day he announced that we would be moving to Edinburgh. Now what? I wondered.

“Claire. Darling. I think you know how happy you make me, and how delighted I am that we’re building this new life together back in the UK. Your thirtieth birthday is such a special occasion, and I think it’s fitting that we mark it with something momentous.”

He reached across the table and took my left hand in his right. His skin was cool and dry against my oddly numb palm. I considered whether I might be going into cardiac arrest. My heart felt untethered in my chest, leaping towards my throat and then plunging into my gut. I concentrated on taking short, sipping breaths so that I didn’t regurgitate lobster all over the pristine white table linens.

Frank continued, unaware of my turmoil. “I’d like us to be married within the year. That way, our children will be born before you enter the high-risk years. A late-spring wedding sounds lovely, don’t you think?”

He looked at me expectantly, so it must be my turn to speak. The problem was I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“I’m sorry, are you asking me to marry you?” I managed to ask around my stomach, which had joined my heart in my throat.

Frank chuckled. “Of course I am, darling. Isn’t this what we always planned?”

Strictly speaking, it was what Frank had always planned. He’d certainly never made any secret of the fact that matrimony and a family were what he saw in our future. So why was I blind-sided? It felt as though I had been driving a practical four-door sedan with an excellent crash test rating at highway speed, only to suddenly realize that nothing happened when I pumped the brakes.

I said the next thing that came into my malfunctioning brain.

“What about my licensing exams?”

“There really won’t be time, darling. Planning a wedding is a full-time job in itself, from what I hear. We need to get moving if we’re to have two children. You aren’t getting any younger, you know.”

I nodded weakly as though this made some kind of sense. Frank took the gesture as silent acceptance of his hyper-practical proposal, clapping his hands together in delight in a way that made me jump.

“Marvelous. Now, I know that you’re very particular about jewelry, so I thought it best that we shop for a ring together. But I wouldn’t dream of celebrating your special day without giving you something tangible. Happy birthday, Claire.”

He pulled an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and slid it across the table. My fingers trembled and twitched as I tried to open the seal. Inside was a certificate printed with a familiar logo. I looked at Frank in shock. How did he know?

“I know how much you want to learn to cook. This place has an excellent reputation, despite their ridiculous name. They offer group lessons, but only at their location in Leith. I suppose the rent is cheaper there, but clearly that was out of the question. Fortunately, I was able to arrange something more suitable with the owner, so you’ll be learning at home from a private chef!”

At that moment our waiter reappeared carrying a bowl of dark, rich-looking pudding. As he placed it on the table in front of me, the spicy vapours of whisky assaulted my nose. With a flourish, the waiter extracted a long-handled lighter and ignited the liquor. Through the ensuing burst of purple flame, Frank’s familiar features transformed into something far more sinister.

#my writing #outlander #ginger snap

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bluntforcefem · 3 years ago

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i’m placing this post under the cut because it is both HUGE NEO TWEWY SPOILERS and also OVER 1.2K WORDS LONG but here is my neo twewy relationships headcanons infodump. ft. a lot of people but also my promised neku & shiba lore

my promised shiba & neku lore: neku doesn’t like shiba. it isn’t quite hatred but it’s very close; the only reason why it isn’t point-blank hatred is because neku can fully acknowledge and understand that shiba was being manipulated for years. however. living in shinjuku with the direct consequences of shiba’s actions, people who died because of it, makes him less than fond of the man! he is, at the very least, relieved that shiba has acknowledged what he did and is working to fix shinjuku. it can’t undo the hurt, but y’know. (gestures wildly) the whole thing i’m looping around to is that they don’t. talk about it. there’s nothing TO talk about, really. they avoid each other when in the same place for meet-ups, and shiba doesn’t push it. but hishima does keep neku updated on the shinjuku situation, and it’s... good, to hear. that things are being mended. y’know?

rhyme & haz friendship is very... something. i think that joshua gets into contact with rhyme some time after the events of neo twewy, mostly to ask for their assistance in keeping the rns updated with kaie. the whole composer thing comes into play there in a way that it does NOT necessarily with haz! rhyme meets haz through rindo, like they would with any other kinda guy, and haz is very much an angel and very much the former/current/former composer of shinjuku, but mostly rhyme knows him as that guy who doesn’t know what half of the food in shibuya is. mostly, until they see him with joshua, and they can’t be blamed for being curious! really. not like joshua would let them do research, and mr. h is nowhere to be found, but haz seems amicable enough to it. in his own way, of course.

i think they get this thing going where rhyme invites him out to do something (sometimes it’s a food place, sometimes it’s an activity, sometimes it’s something the reapers showed rhyme) and they talk about nothing while talking about A Whole Lot. those kinda layered conversations, y’know? and also. like. haz IS curious about rhyme, is the thing, because he very clearly doesn’t understand what makes humanity and shibuya tick, and especially doesn’t understand what makes rhyme tick when something so... essential was taken from them three years ago! but like. being able to adapt and grow and change around that is human nature. very much another case of “haz makes human friends he doesn’t get but likes to be around anyway” which i like for him a lot. meanwhile rhyme and kaie are texting back and forth about the higher plane and angels and things they probably shouldn’t know but hey! nobody’s snitching.

speaking of kaie. i think kaie and hishima are good friends! meanwhile kaie has extremely mixed opinions on the man’s husband. i said that kaie and shiba’s relationship is very on the mend, and i think that kaie is much more willing to accept that he wants to mend shinjuku and be happy with that (especially since they can read and analyze his soul, which probably helps in the whole trustworthiness factor. and, of course, their own readings.) but like. they do need to have a Talk, eventually, and i think that comes a couple weeks after everything settles. it’s a part of everything settling, really. shiba do you realize that one of the members of your found family was fully willing to die before following along in your path of destruction shiba. shiba. there’s a lot of people close to shiba that he hurt and i think he realizes this at the end of the game, yes, but i don’t think he sees the full magnitude of that until he talks to everyone and starts to repair shinjuku. you know how it is.

also hey do you think about how kaie and susukichi were close and then susukichi got erased or are you normal,

i’m just thinking really hard about how kaie was the one susukichi texted to tell that he was making a risky move. and how kaie’s response was “please don’t do anything rash, my friend” and then susukichi was erased. and susukichi was erased and he wanted to protect the wicked twisters if shibuya got erased and. and clearly, susukichi trusted kaie. (they were one of the only reapers left,) and. i'm just thinking about kaie's willingness to go down with shibuya. that conversation with hishima happens right after susukichi is erased. how much of home is even left to move with? how many times is shiba going to sacrifice their family for this, if kaie keeps going? it's... better to stay, if it's inevitable (and in the end it isn't. but susukichi is still gone.)

AND THEN IN THE HISHIMA CONVERSATION TOO! kaie’s little snap at him to “reflect on himself before speaking of others :/” when hishima makes a comment about leaving shiba behind too. they’re absolutely not having it when susukichi was just erased (when susukichi was doing something stupid, when susukichi wanted to stop shiba before shibuya could be erased again,)

gestures wildly. i have thoughts. but continuing on for now,

fret & kariya hang out. i do have relatively strong feelings on fret & kariya’s canonical interactions, which are mostly short but RICH with character specifically from fret; in w1d4, which is arguably my favorite example of it, fret drops the act to call kariya out on his lie, in the MOST snarky voice acting, almost… mocking? but not malicious. just. calling him on it. which kariya proceeds to acknowledge (“(k) looks like you learned your lesson after all” “(f) didn’t realize we’d be tested so soon!”) but this is INTERESTING because of how early on it happens and how innocuous in the moment it seems! however. besides that. i think kariya is one of very few people fret has never really put the act up for.

i think post-game the wicked twisters DO deserve some (relatively) responsible adult figures in their life, and while i love the hachiko gang dearly, they’re very newly adults and neku has been gone for three years. they’re healing and while i DO think they care for the twisters they absolutely cannot fulfill the responsible adult figure role because they’re barely adults themselves. they’re in very similar situations of heavy trauma from the game. sometimes you just need a weird-but-cool reaper uncle (kariya) to bug, and fret kind of takes to hanging out with him like a duck to water

there’s a specific intersection of their interests too where it’s like… “(fret voice) you like food, i like eating, let’s go hang out at a food place together” and “(kariya voice) you like fashion, i like clothes, let’s go check out some clothes places.” also i think kariya isn’t necessarily someone fret comes to for advice often but he is one of the people on the list that fret feels comfortable being honest with, at least. also fret gets to be kind of bitchy when he’s with kariya (and uzuki, too, although i think a little bit of the act goes back up when she joins their little hangouts) and it’s a NICE change of pace. a more genuine expression of self.

(i also do think it’s a funny friendship with fret being mr. minami’s favorite & kariya and sho being exes. like yeah. kariya took the kids in the divorce years later)

I THINK THAT’S IT FOR NOW? YEAH. i have other thoughts but like. none so much as to put into a post like this and also this post is already SO LONG. if you’ve stuck it out until now, a) how and b) thanks for sticking it out i hope u enjoyed!!

#kbitycus talks #neo twewy #neo twewy spoilers #ntwewy #woo yeah woo yeah woo #im not tagging everyone but guys with big parts in this are;#kaie. kariya. fret. rhyme. haz. shiba. neku for a bit

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illfoandillfie · 3 years ago

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Maybe a ben POV one? where bens off on a movie shoot and misses you and wants to fly you out to him but he’s worried it’s too much of a “romantic gesture” like in movies so he doesn’t want to weird you out but then on the phone you say how much you miss him too so he gathers the nerve to ask you and you’re like duh ofc I’ll come you dork (im envisioning this still kinda early in the qpr maybe right after platonically or smth)

Thank you so much babe!!

This is the second of the blurbs for my Platonically themed event! This one follows directly on from the one I posted yesterday so maybe read it first.

Words: 1,759

Warnings: just two idiots being dummies. Minor references to sex and probably some swearing but that's about it.

Reflecting on the situation, Ben had come to the conclusion that it was the perfect time to be in Greece. The run of beautiful weather they’d had over the course of the last month must have set some sort of record, he thought. Every day was blue skies, white fluffy clouds, and the sort of heat that was comfortable and not overly sticky. It made working a dream, especially when half the film seemed to take place on the beach. The sand was warm under his feet and the water clear and cool. They didn’t have much down time since the studio was pushing for it to be finished ASAP so they could release it at the optimal time, but the few days off they did get, Ben spent either fishing with some of the crew or else exploring the picturesque town they were in. There was just one downside. You weren’t with him.

Whenever the thought crossed his mind, whenever he really started to miss you, he’d remind himself that he loved his job, loved that it took him to exciting and beautiful places. And then he’d send you a quick message to check how everything was back home. He called too, mostly in the evenings after he got back to his hotel room. But the deeper into the project he got the more night shoots there were and the later he got back to his room. What brief conversations you had were good but not quite the same as if you’d been there with him. Of course, he’d try to remind himself that it wasn’t like he’d never been away from you before. But those times had all been before you got together, and the changed nature of the relationship made him feel your absence more. He never said that to you though. Mostly, when you could talk, Ben would ask how you were and talk about the exciting things he saw. He’d tell you about the beaches or the trinket shops and say how much you’d like them but he’d never tell you exactly how badly he wished you were with him. He didn’t want you to take it the wrong way and he didn’t trust himself to explain it properly. Whenever he tried to verbalise it (quietly, to his reflection or the dark hotel room he was staying in) he worried it came out too...well, romantic.

The truth was, he’d always been attached to you, since very early on in your relationship. You just got him. His sense of humour and his personality and the way he thought. It took him no time at all to start referring to you as one of his best friends and it was a title you’d held for years. But then he’d realised the way he liked you wasn’t strictly platonic, and it made him feel weird around you. More uncertain than he was used to. He found it hard to describe the relief he’d felt when you agreed to think about his QPR idea or how, when you’d accepted, it had alleviated the uncertainty and doubts that had been plaguing him. To you it would probably sound sappy and sentimental and tat all what you wanted to hear from him. Of course the QPR was really just an extension of your friendship. More or less the same, just a few new ways to show affection like kissing and getting you off (both things Ben greatly enjoyed), and a few new words that made it specific to the two of you. And maybe a new future too, depending on how things went. But again, while he might think those sorts of thoughts, he wouldn’t know how to begin saying any of them to you. Because he was starting to really want that future with you, and saying so might make it impossible to get there.

So Ben allowed himself to miss you quietly. Occasionally an idea of inviting you to join him would pop into his head. But he always let the thought go as quickly as it came. The weeks ticked by like that. Texting when you could between scenes and less and less frequent calls at night, which left Ben’s head swimming with lots of unsaid things. Progress was made on the movie too, most of the beach scenes wrapped and everyone moving to other parts of the script. Until everything came to a screeching halt. Ben wasn’t entirely sure what the problem was – something to do with scheduling conflicts or maybe special equipment that hadn’t arrived on time. All he was told was that things would be back up and running soon but it might take an extra few weeks to complete the project. He didn’t mind so much, it gave him a bit of extra free time after all, but it also meant he wouldn’t get to see you again for a while.

The possibility of flying you out to Greece to join him had been rattling around his brain since his third week on set. You could spend a couple of weeks, maybe a month, together. He could take you to that restaurant he’d sent you photos of and show you the handmade stationery shop he’d stumbled across that he knew you’d have fun exploring. And then there was the rest of the town, thin streets to get lost in together and beautiful views to look out over. Maybe you’d like to walk along the beach with him and collect seashells or rent a little dingy to take out on the waves. Once or twice he’d come close to actually asking you to join him but he always talked himself out of it, sure it would be crossing a line for you. Missing you was one thing but offering to buy you a plane ticket and whisk you off on a getaway to a gorgeous Greek island was surely too romantic. But the news of the delay made him consider it again.

That night he called you, smiling as soon as he heard your voice. At first the call was like any other. He listened to you talk about what had been going on since he last had a chance to call, getting caught up on your mutual friends and your work and whatever else came to mind. “But what about you?” you finally said, “You must be pretty busy since I haven’t had a call from you in a little while.” “Well I was busy except not so much right now,” “Oh?” “There’s some sort of delay, I don’t the details. But it looks like I’ll be here for another few weeks at least.” “Oh.” Ben was a little surprised by how disappointed you sounded. “I really miss you,” “I miss you too,” his voice got softer as he said it, “a lot.” “I really wish I could see you,” “Well,” he said sheepishly, hoping he wasn’t reading things wrong, “how would you feel about coming out here then? I can get you a plane ticket if you want.” “No shit! You can do that? You won’t like, get in trouble or anything?” Ben laughed, not quite understanding, “What are you talking about?” “I don’t know man, I’m not an actor. I just figured it’d be like a partner free zone. Like they wouldn’t want you getting distracted or whatever.” “You fucking dork,” his laughter threatened to obscure the words but he managed to make himself heard, “That’s not how it is at all. You being here wouldn’t be a problem, as long as I’m on set when they need me. Plus it looks like we’re about to have a whole lot of downtime anyway. So does that mean you wanna come?” “Ummm let me think abo- of course Ben!” “Well if I’d known you’d react like this I would have asked sooner,” The laughter had faded, leaving a grin on his face, though the embarrassment at his hesitancy was creeping up too. “Wish you had’ve. Why didn’t you?” “I just didn’t want you to take it the wrong way,” “And what way would that be?” “A romantic way? I don’t know! It’s just the sort of thing that’d happen in a romantic movie or whatever and I didn’t want to come across like that. It’s Greece man, it’s kind of a romantic place. Maybe not like Paris but it’s up there. Don’t laugh,” he groaned, “I’m just saying, white sands and clear seas and lots of pretty flowers in bloom, it’s definitely got romantic vibes.” “It didn’t even cross my mind that it might be that sort of thing. No offence to Greece, I’m sure it’s lovely.” Ben let himself chuckle at his idiocy, “I guess cause I’ve like, y’know, got feelings for you or whatever I saw the romantic side and assumed you would too. Feel silly for not just asking you but I’m glad we have that sorted now.” “I think it’s sweet, Ben. I love that you were conscious of how it might be perceived and I understand you didn’t want to hurt me. But yeah, dude, please get me that ticket, I miss you a stupid amount.” “Alright, I’m on it. When do you want to leave?”

Two days later and Ben was content, sitting and staring out at the waves on a quiet beach as you rubbed sunscreen into his back. He’d greeted you at the airport, feeling ridiculously excited to see you, squeezing you in a tight hug (which you later suggested had cracked one of your ribs). “Okay, all done, now let me do your front,” you shuffled around Ben on your knees, throwing a leg over his lap as he leaned back on his palms. “You’re such a perv,” Ben chuckled, subtly adjusting his posture to push his chest further towards you, “I bet you only suggested sunscreen so you could feel my boobs.” “Oh you caught me,” you squirted some more of the cream directly onto his chest, beginning to rub it in, “Definitely nothing to do with sun safety.” “No I get it, you don’t need to lie to me. You missed my pecks. It’s totally natural. But let me know when you’re done so I can show you the same courtesy.” "Think we might save that till we get back to the hotel, Benny,” Ben laughed at your exasperated expression, raising one arm to pull you toward him for a kiss, barely noticing the cool of the cream still on your palm as you cupped his cheek and kissed him back.

#my writing #my blurbs #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #platonically event #(lowkey have a headache rn so i hope this is alright kdjskdjsdk #i really tried to play up the ~not so good at communicating while separated~ thing #as well as a bffs sharing a braincell thing lmao)#(also please let me know if the formatting on this fuks up #i copied it from a word doc and idk if it's going to cooperate lmao)

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bookersebastien · 4 years ago

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since I love your headcanons/meta (if you're up to it) can I have your thoughts on the guard + fashion

andy

Andy probably has a pretty complicated relationship with fashion, like i think she does with most things in the modern world given the fact that it’s only a tiny spec of her lifetime

She’s spent her life watching thousands upon thousands of fashion trends come and go and was alive during the creation of many fabrics themselves

She’s been a warrior her entire life, we may not know the manner of her first death (or at least not from the movies) but we know she’s spent most of her life as an immortal fighting, both before and after she met quynh

Fashion for her was always at the very least comfortable and flexible, something she could travel and fight in without a moment’s notice

But to some extent how she looks, her image is a very important aspect of her, especially in the earlier part of her life

She was a famed fighter for so long, earning her name “fighter of man”, there were probably stories told of her and quynh, warrior women who no one can defeat, her clothing at that time at least semi reflected that, she wanted to be seen as “unbreakable” as she says in the movie

She had probably minimal armor, after all she doesn’t need it technically and would only prefer it to have less healing time if she took on less damage, but her clothing showed exactly who she was, every bit the warrior

As practical as she is, who she appears to be is still probably very much still tied to her identity, she may not be known anymore and doesn’t even want to be for the sake of their safety but her clothes are not just strictly practical, rather than be the warrior of myth she has now become a warrior of the modern age, a warrior of the shadows

Her clothes still reflect her younger self, the famed warrior, just scaled back and modernized. She wears calf-high boots, arm braces and fitted clothing in all black she cuts quite and imposing figure and that’s what i think she wants. She doesn’t necessarily use it to intimidate others, as her younger self may have done, this time her clothing is now to make her still feel powerful, a reflection of who she is now: skilled and deadly, ready at a moments notice to protect those she loves

While jeans and a tank top is a perfectly normal outfit, with the boots and braces you’d do a double take, wondering who she was, but it’s meant to blend in just enough but if you look closely enough at how tight the boots are laced and her posture, tank top carefully tucked in you’d start to wonder

I think she does actually like fashion, she’s seen so much of it and she probably sees things that remind her of something she saw hundreds of years ago, like seeing trends pop up again and it fills her with nostalgia. It reminds her of when she was in love with humanity, loved seeing what people created and invented and when she truly believed in their cause

But things definitely changed after quynh was thrown in the ocean, just had a less of desire and the clothes probably reminded her of quynh, what’d she’d wear and what she’d get for andy to wear and as modern times came around she stuck to stuff that was more practical, still a little fashionable, but stuff that could be worn doing anything from sleeping to fighting

I think her clothing in the movie, mostly black, reflects who she is as this time: a powerful and strong warrior who’s also afraid, she’s afraid that she spent her life fighting for something that doesn’t matter but also (pre-nile) afraid of what she’s going to do now that she said the world could burn - what does a 6,000+ immortal warrior do then?

booker

Booker is not unfashionable, and while his relatively apathetic and cynical nature might make you think fashion isn’t something he would care about, i think he does

He isn’t like joe who would go the extra step to make an outfit more aesthetically pleasing, but also he isn’t as super practical as nicky (he keeps his gun in his pants for fuck’s sake)

Booker is tired and wants to feel normal, to feel his humanity that he feels is slipping away from him even though it’s already been 200 years - he’s still adjusting and that’s because he never wanted this and still doesn’t completely accept this is his life now (hence at least a partial reason for his betrayal)

But i don’t booker is one to make too much of a fuss about what he’s wearing, he wants simple clothing that won’t make him look out of place, especially since he was the one who met with copley for that previous mission maybe he is the one who scouts missions as their seemingly resident computer person

So he goes for what a lot of people do: classic pieces of clothing in selection of relatively neutral colors that all work together. In their life it’s important to have clothes at the ready, both in their bags and at their safehouses and i’d bet at least most of his stuff would work together with no issues

Aside from the tac outfit of course, he mainly wears an assortment of jeans, boots, button downs and leather jackets in mostly blacks and grays with a couple faded blues and greens - any of these can be thrown on without an issue, it looks like a complete outfit and nothing about how he’s dressed is any way going to attrract attention

Plus this man doesn’t care enough about himself to make him look good rather than just being fine with what he has, he wants to die and doesn’t allow himself to feel the love he has from his family, dressing up to him isn’t going to add anything or make anything better

So in the sequel i’d love to see him deal with his pain and his betrayal head on and who knows maybe joe will buy him some zipper pants too and maybe booker will actually like them

nicky

Nicky is the other more practical one other than andy, but he lacks her attempt at keeping at appearances/empowerment

The majority of movies he’s wearing plain t-shirts and regular jeans with dad jackets, the only slightly impractical fashion choice being his hoodie from the tac outfit, which it does cover him up completely and allows him to cover his face more if needed but also it’s hot (i also like that post comparing the hoodie to the crusader’s chainmail helmet)

But nicky in essence is practical, he’s the protector of the group, always watching and always on the edges, he doesn’t care much i think for what he wears as long as it allows him to do his job

Yes of course he participated in fashions over the years, and will wear things joe picks out for him and occasionally what he picks out for himself, but that stuff is not for when there is a mission, not when people need help

But i think he usually gravitates towards simple like andy, something to run and fight in but he lacks andy’s past of fame, reverence, and notoriety (at least in the way she had it - he did fight in the crusades after all) so his clothing isn’t to do anything for him but to act as clothing, it holds no mental power over him, he has no image to project - he’s done so much that he wants to help people and protect his family and that’s it

I don’t think growing up in genoa before the crusades lent itself to that many fashion opportunities and while we aren’t sure of his exact status, i don’t think any of the guard were particularly wealthy (except possibly yusuf as the son of merchants) and being a priest at the time i’m sure didn’t make him wealthy in his adulthood either

And while he’s lived 900+ years, the way you grew up doesn’t just leave you, he was at least catholic, and i still think he holds his faith close, just in a different way now

Plus look at his tac outfit, the most comfortable looking (it is a hoodie after all) and he has half a dozen guns strapped to himself along with sword, he wants the ability to carry his things comfortably without impeding him in any way, he wants to be totally and completely prepared and is very much the typical dad in this sense, everything must be on hand so he can protect those he loves

Also you know this man owns cargo pants much to joe’s dismay

joe

we all know joe is the fashionable male among the guard, i mean the backwards baseball cap and the zipper pants? yeah

in his tac outfit, the hat really adds nothing to it besides aesthetic, it’s not shielding his eyes from the sun because he’s wearing sunglasses and it doesn’t aid him in any way during a fight unless he had decided to pull a booker and do “whatever works” and just like hit someone with it - it’s a purely aesthetic choice

but joe was the child of merchants and lived in an area with a rich history of colorful and beautiful fashion, the region was known for the lightweight fabrics and light silks that during the crusades, many were brought back to europe and astounded the europeans

i think that has stayed with joe, that complete appreciation and awe at the craft of making clothing and using clothing to show yourself and personality

joe is also a man of the arts, there was so much poetry and arts in the maghreb region, and while that existed in italy as well, nicky was a priest and probably wasn’t exposed to it much outside a religious context

joe is also an artist himself, he has such a grand appreciation for aesthetics and while clothing purely for aesthetics isn’t practical for the life they live unless they are on a break, he manages to infuse his clothing with his personality nonetheless

the backwards hat was fun, unnecessary but it also didn’t get in the way of his fighting. he probably just enjoyed the look (and i know we all did too) and the leather jacket with the hoodie and zippered pants at the end scene was just such an effortless cool look that was still practical but had a lot more personality and an attempted look™ than say nicky and his dad jacket

nile

most of what nile is wearing in the movie isn’t her choice of clothing, not that i don’t think she’d absolutely pick out that green bomber jacket but in the movie she wasn’t the one who picked it, it was packed for her

but the outfit she wears in the end is just like her, trendy and young and refreshing given that the rest of the guard sticks to their own styles they’ve been in the whole movie

but nile is the one who is most likely to branch out, she’s only in her late 20s and by her last scene in the movie it’s only been maybe a week or so since she became immortal, she hasn’t evolved a ‘be ready to fight’ kind of fashion and doesn’t have the hundreds of years of experience telling her to buy things that she can fight in as well as sleep in - now she was in the marines so to some extent but not with her own personal clothing choices

despite her chaotic introduction to being immortal, it won’t set in for a while that their lives are running from one danger to the next, taking breaks when they can, especially with andy’s renewed commitment to the job she and the others set out to accomplish, her clothing style will probably change as she settles into this new life

but we can see in her last scene, she is wearing comfortable clothing, a fitted shirt with a stylish yet somewhat more loose fitting jacket and looser pants (they look like joggers and i can’t completely remember if they are or not)

so while her clothes are comfortable, they are more fashionable than any of the others, and while this probably has lots to do with her age i think it’s very important to her current state of mind

she’s had the most insane weeks of her life, found out she’s not going to die for a very long time, found out there are others like her, and had to say goodbye to her family without seeing them again because she’s decided to stick with her new life

and this is a massive change for her, after being in the military for quite a few years, assuming she joined when she around 18-20 which i think she did enlist then especially given the fact that her dad passed when she was younger

life in the military is very controlled, so her having this sudden new gift but also this vast wide open future is probably terrifying to her, so much has changed so quickly, she hasn’t had the time to properly sort through how she’s feeling and truly realizing what this life means

her clothes are a reflection of one thing in her life she can currently control because she can’t control what’s going to happen in the world and where copley will find them a job or where they will be at any one time but she has control over herself so she dresses herself how she wants, how she’d dress if she was home

it’s some semblance of normality, some piece of herself that hasn’t changed and that she wants to express

quynh

while we don’t see quynh much besides in flashbacks and then in the final scene i think fashion is going to be something important to her

she spent 500 years drowning, unable to do anything, unable to save herself

nile said she was feeling insane and angry, quynh spent 500 years without an ounce of control over what was happening to her and regaining her life is something she is not going to take for granted

she’s going to live her life to the fullest, which includes wearing whatever she likes and wearing the colors she loves and the clothing that makes her feel beautiful and badass and powerful - a little like andy and a little like nile

it’s a huge part of her life she’s regained, clothing is something the whole world sees and part of how we perceive people and in a world that she doesn’t know at all she’ll want to craft herself an image because clothing is still one thing she can understand - the styles are all different but i have no doubts it’s something she took to quite quickly, having something she can control completely

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wordynerdygurl · 4 years ago

Text

Seven Minutes in Heaven

Author’s Note: Well hello my friends! Since hitting 1000 Followers in July (WHAT?! STILL UNBELIEVABLE!!!) I’ve been working on the requests sent in by my amazing troop of readers! This is another one of those stories which I’m pleased to share. As always, help my unending need for validation but re-blogging or liking the story! Also, you can send asks, make your own request, follow me, or be added to my tag-list! Last, @sammy-jo1977 is my beta... and my ride or die home girl! Thanks lady! Pairing: Loki x Female Reader, appearances from most of the Avengers

Summary/ Request: @queenofmischief asked for a story where “Loki and you guys are friends growing up and you realize you like him and try to hide it but somehow at a party or something or another, maybe Seven Minutes in Heaven is involved, it comes out and really hot smut ensues?”

I used some of the ideas you gave me, dear reader, but made it a little more mature, so I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Lots of 80′s references... music, movies, clothes, etc. References of smut, heavy petting and kissing

ENJOY!

"But, like, I really don't want to go." Your cellphone, pinned between your ear and shoulder, pushed your earring into the tender flesh behind your lobe. It probably didn't help that the jewelry in question was a pair of huge hoops, fluorescent in color and hard plastic.

You heard Wanda sigh, "Yea… I know. It's just, we all are… and you know it'll be worse if you don't show up."

"I really hate it." Using a sing-song voice didn't change the feelings behind your words. Going up to the main floor of The Avengers Tower for a theme party was not a thrilling idea.

"I know you do-", pulling open the door between your room and hers, you palmed your phone, frowning at your friend, "-But you look great!"

"Radical… or wicked… or tubular would be more 80's appropriate." Still, her compliment made you smile. It really was a great outfit, totally encapsulating the MTV generation's vibe, complete with hot lime colored leg warmers.

Your cropped REO Speedwagon t-shirt was cut off at the neck, dripping low enough to expose one whole shoulder, and a wide stripe of the magenta colored tank top underneath. Having tucked the camisole into your acid washed denim micro miniskirt, you finished the ensemble with a pair of black pumps, and the obligatory scrunchie of cheap yellow satin. It pulled your hair into a low, side ponytail.

For makeup you'd painted your eye-shadow on, bright turquoise with pink under your brows. Lipstick in a shimmery rosy hue brought extra attention to your lips. And you stored your cell phone, lip gloss and keys in your iridescent fanny pack.

Wanda couldn't help giggling at the sight of you and your collection of clashing colors. For her look tonight she'd dawned a pair of skin tight leggings, an over-sized button down shirt with a stretchy black belt that was about four inches wide. Ballet flats, teased out hair and stark makeup had Wanda looking like a video vixen. It was impressive.

"See, you went sexy… and I went silly." Pouting now, you flopped onto your bed, "Can I just not?"

Sitting down next to you, patting your knee, "You don’t look silly, but you do look like you could be a hair band groupie! That’s sexy!” Shrugging your shoulders, unconvinced, Wanda added, “Besides, tonight… It may be fun. And, worse case? You get blitzed like a teenager on prom night."

"No… that's not the worst case. Worst case? He's there."

Sighing, Wanda shook her head, "He does still rub you the wrong way, huh? And, yes, he may be there… but-" standing, taking you with her, "-it would be a shame to waste all your wicked cool work!"

Hearing her use the dated vernacular made you grin. She was right. Tonight could be a blast, if you were able to get out of your head. Jumping off the bed, unsettling one of those fashionable leg warmers, you hugged your friend tightly. You could do this. You wouldn't be alone. And if Loki was there, he'd just have to get over it. You weren't going to pay him any attention.

---

"Mr. Loki… can we please go? We're already stupid late."

Bending to straighten his red suspenders, Loki smirked at himself, "Greed is good."

Sighing, exasperated and edging into anger, Peter pulled open the front door, "I don't know what that means, but you look… greasy."

"Like I could steal your company in a corporate take over? Maybe steal your woman too", Loki questioned, excited at the idea.

Crossing his arms over the red puffy vest he had bought specifically for tonight, Peter grunted, "Uh… I… I guess. I meant more like one of the assholes in Wolf of Wall Street."

God, you had better be there tonight. Loki was putting a lot of hope on Stark’s little shindig and he wanted to make sure that all of the little details were absolutely perfect, giving him every advantage. Standing now, slicking back his long dark hair, "That, my young spider friend, is exactly what I am going for… Evil 80′s CEO."

"Great."

Loki heard the frustration in the young man’s voice. Someday he would understand, Loki thought, turning to the youthful Avenger beside him, "You certainly make a dashing Marty McFly, Peter. Truly."

"Aw! Really, Mr. Loki? Ya mean it?" That made the Spider Boy preen, popping his collar, and standing a little straighter.

"I do! Now-" flashing a rakish smile to his reflection as he passed, "-let's get upstairs and see how everyone else is doing!"

---

Everyone else was ready to party. The last mission, a particularly difficult one, involved Hydra agents banging it out against our heroes along the rough terrain of the polar ice cap. Draining the physical and emotional resources of everyone, including you and Loki, Tony had planned a little party to kick off a period of rest and relaxation.

As soon as the elevator opened you knew it was going to be an insane night. Everything was brightly lit. Paper streamers were strung up haphazardly along the walls and ceiling. Big plastic buckets of chips and cheese curls were put out on the counter along with a huge punch bowl that reeked of rum and sugary fruit juice. On the floor in the kitchenette was a garbage can, freezing, full of ice, only the keg tap visible. A stack of red plastic cups was at the ready.

Someone had ordered pizza. Well, dozens of pizzas. The boxes were piled along the table already crammed with pretzel bags and Doritos.

Steve was being instructed on the basics of Beer Pong and, you decided, definitely being hustled by Sam. Bucky looked on with curiosity, quietly sneaking closer to the chips and dip, hoping no one would notice. Rhodey was watching them both through the reflective lenses of his aviator shades, doing a great job of looking like a Top Gun cadet, including the tight jeans and broken-in bomber jacket. Grinning as he drank down a bottle of beer, Rhodes shouted, "Hey Stank! Is all of this really necessary?"

"Don't come for me Rhodey!" Wearing a pair of neon leopard spotted knit pants, a green polo shirt and white sneakers, Tony was clutching a glass bowl filled with little slips of paper to his chest. No one had managed to figure out what they were or why he held them. Drinking two beers from his plastic, can holding helmet, Tony would answer only with a slightly slurred, "It's my trashy 80′s party and I do what I want!"

And Tony had thought of everything. Sounding like a mixed tape pulled from the radio, the tunes didn't let up! Ratt, Foreigner, Cindi Lauper, Madonna and Tom Petty all took turns blasting through the room. So many hits from the past pumped through the sound system, getting people on their feet and keeping them there. You were swinging and swaying along, having a blast, but when Bon Jovi hit the group of Intergalactic Warriors went wild.

Clint, rocking a mullet wig and a vest with no shirt, jumped onto a table making the motions of an air guitar champion. Singing into a beer bottle like it was his microphone, "Whoooooaaaa we're halfway there…"

Guffawing, you hid behind your Bud Light filled cup, already red cheeked from the non-stop laughing and alcohol in your system. At some point you had given up Wanda to Vision in a varsity jacket, doing his best jerk-off jock impression, and not quite pulling it off. It wasn't his fault that he was too polite to put people down in the way of Eighties movie bad guys. Alone, feeling flushed, but happy, you needed a break and some quiet. Flinging yourself onto the soft sofa, watching the frat house style antics unfold all around, you couldn’t help laughing. Tony always found a way to knock the group out of their post mission funk. Sometimes that meant week long Caribbean vacations and sometimes that meant dressing up in retro attire and scream singing with a cold beer in your hands. Either way, it seemed to bring everyone closer together, and the pictures were certainly worth framing. The couch dipped as someone joined you. Swiveling, not quite drunk but not quite sober, you couldn’t help the groan that left you. “Oh. It’s you.”

Not exactly the response Loki wanted, he was just grateful that you spoke to him at all. Lately you seemed to flee any room he entered, a hurt and heavy sigh escaping you before you'd make your exit, never looking back. Loki couldn't understand why.

After all, it had been two months since that night. The one where he'd stumbled on you, glowing blue in the light of the television set, alone and in the darkness. You asked him to join you, he had accepted.

The movie was called "Say Anything" and Loki had to admit, as far as romance on film went, this story was very moving. But that was an unexpected bonus to being so near to you. Before the credits rolled, you had burrowed against him, snuggled under his arm with your head on his chest.

Stroking your hair, Loki pressed a kiss to your forehead, thoughtlessly, naturally. Pushing away, looking up at him through hooded lashes, "You… you kissed me?"

Words failed the silver tongued devil, something he still pondered all these weeks later, so a nod was all you got for a response. Kneeling, your sleep shirt riding over your thighs, Loki watched your small hand rising to cup his cheek. Feeling your lips against his own was the beginning of the best night of his life.

And then, nothing. It was like a switch had been thrown and no matter how many ways he tried to reach out for you, Loki wasn't able to connect. Not like that night.

So, he was going against his nature tonight. Joining the group, drinking a bit of his brother's mead, wearing a dated but pristine business suit. All done in the vain hope that something would shift in his favor.

He had already lost too many nights to memories of you. Soft, full skin under his broad palms. The tiny moan you exhaled when Loki’s tongue met your own. How your wet, willing body accepted him, without question or stipulation. And in the afterglow, when your head rested in the crook of his neck and your cherry cola scented breath circled him, you let Loki hold you close.

But he buried it all. Tonight he was the embodiment of all things slick. Nothing could stick to him; not when he had a goal in mind and this much gel in his hair. Loki Odinson would be taking you home tonight, come hell or high water. Wolfish, Loki’s grin was wicked, “Yes. Your dream has come true.” Sitting back, he crossed his designer suit covered knee at the ankle, exposing socks with little golfers on them. He let his right arm rest along the back of the sofa, not around you… not yet, but inching closer. “What is that cologne you’re wearing?” “Don’t you like it? I’m told Drakkar Noir was quite the scent of the 80′s. I did my research.” Twisting, you looked him over, impressed despite yourself. The suit was totally of its time. Black, pinstriped and you were sure the jacket that came with it was draped somewhere safe. His shirt was shiny but soft and bright, blinding white. Suspenders of red matched the tie that draped down the center of his chest. With his hair combed straight back and held in place with some kind of product, Loki looked like he was capable of eating a six course lunch at Sardi’s, complete with dirty martinis, then jetting back to the office in time to defraud a corporate spending account. The kind of executive that blackmails a co-worker with pictures of a mistress. The kind of douche bag that tries to take over a rec center to build a mall. In short, an avarice little asshole. So, why was it so hot? “It’s… overpowering.”, boy, was that an understatement. Loki’s whole aesthetic was overpowering right now. And, was he moving closer? His bent knee brushed against your own as he leaned near enough to be heard at a whisper, “You look adorable, you know that?” Scrunching into the corner of the couch, eyeing him suspiciously, “Oh? Really?” “Really.”, his hand brushed over your exposed shoulder, making you jump at his touch.

Uh uh. No way. You would not be so easy to seduce this time around. Even if those wide hands sent goosebumps growing all over your body, Loki would not charm his way into your panties again. Not like last time.

It had been spontaneous. Genuine, at least for you. And in the moment, it felt like Loki had given you a little piece of himself, a tenderness that no one else ever saw in the far flung Frost Giant.

Maybe that's why Clint's words hurt so much. He had told you so casually, holding up a spoonful of Cheerios, "Loki said his last girl was a drag. Basic bitch? Is that what the kids say?"

Thinking about it now made your heart hurt. You had given yourself to someone who thought you were beneath him. Loki couldn't want you. You would never be good enough.

But that night haunted you. His soulful kisses that stole your breath. The drag of Loki’s hands over the swell of your bottom as you straddled his hips. His solid chest under your own hands, dark head curved against the couch cushion, but those burning eyes never leaving your face. “I thought you said I was plain. Simple. Boring.”

Leveling his own words back at him made Loki straighten in his seat. How could you think that? Unbalanced, stammering, “Uh… I… I’d never…” “Never expected me to find out? I believe that. And, let me tell you this-” Pushing yourself up with the help of the couch’s arm, you rose on unsteady legs, “-I’m not nearly drunk enough to fall into your arms again.”�� Spinning away, you made a dash towards the people in the kitchen, without looking back. Watching you go, Loki could do nothing but stare after your retreating form, flummoxed.

“That was… painful.”

He knew that voice well enough, frustrated, confused and unfit for company, “Go away, Tony.”

“I don’t think I will. In fact-” sitting down in your empty spot, patting Loki’s knee, “-I’m going to make myself comfortable. Now, tell Uncle Tony all about it.”

Rolling his eyes, unable to find you in the crowd, Loki risked a sideways glance at his replacement companion. Was he really going to indulge in this? Tell his almost friend about you… about your one night together? Loki raked his hands through the pomade in his hair, growling low, “If you breathe a word of it Tony, I’ll-” Lowering his wrap around sunglasses, peering at Loki, Tony smiled, “Your secret is safe with me.” ---

Thinking less and less about Loki as the night went on should have been a relief but it seemed like the scent of him followed you everywhere. Unable to get free of him, you busied yourself with drinks, dancing, and munching like you were a kid again. Anything to keep your mind from wandering.

It's not like the party was boring. Not at all! There was plenty to distract you and you let it. Natasha made you her partner for beer pong and somehow you successfully won against Rhodey and Sam.

Next, Wanda needed you, which is how you wound up sitting on the bathroom sink listening to her go on about Vision in that wistful, loving way that made your own heart ache. Being a little drunk, you had to fight the urge to cry because you were lonely and hurting. “I saw you talking to Loki… what was that about?” She was reapplying ruby red lipstick, studying herself in the mirror, not looking directly at you.

Wanda's voice cut through your self doubt spiral though, something you were thankful for, and with a casual tone you countered, “He was trying to get something started, I think.” Eyebrows lifting, Wanda’s interested piqued, “Really? Loki was hitting on you?” “Yea… I mean, I think so. Was coming on awfully strong too. But… he’s been a jerk, right?”

Wanda cleaned up her eye make-up taking a minute, after washing her hands she looked at you, “I mean, he is here.” “So?” “So, you know he’s not really a joiner. More of a lone wolf. In fact, I think this may be the first of these little parties he’s come to. Maybe he’s changed… grown a bit? And, honestly, you never asked him about-”

Hopping off the counter, cutting her off, more than a little huffy at her good sense, “No, I didn’t and I don’t plan to. Loki thinks I’m a bore? Too basic for him? Fine. I have better things to do with my time.” Laying her hand on your shoulder, Wanda stopped you, eyeing you in the mirror once more, “I know his words hurt… but you’re going to have to clear the air eventually. Especially if we’re all going to work together.”

Shrugging, you offered your friend a small smile. There was truth in her sentiment, even if your slightly drunken brain rebelled against hearing it, “Yea, you're right… plus-” looking around the small washroom, just to make sure no one could hear the pair of you, “- he looks really hot tonight!”

Giggling, Wanda hugged you close, “I didn’t want to say anything, but… yea he does!” The pair of you were still laughing together, standing at the back of the crowd as Tony turned down the music, announcing, “Gather round children, Uncle Tony needs your attention!” There were a few groans, mostly from the beer pong table, as apparently Bucky was unhappy about forfeiting his winning match. Everyone else, in all their high haired glory, were congregating near their host, curious and more than a little drunk.

“Tony, what the hell, man? You killed the tunes!”, Clint shouted, spilling Bud Light foam as he joined the tightening circle. “Patience, my drunk friend. You all remember this?” From the table nearby, Tony picked up his glass bowl, triumphant, “Our Destiny!”

Pepper, sighing with a smile, “So dramatic!” Shaking the bowl in her direction Tony smirked, “Ok smarty, then you pick first. Go on… Pick!” There were oohs and ahhs from the assembled Avengers. Rolling her eyes, Pepper reached in, grabbing the first slip her fingers found. Pulling it free, she grinned, eyeing Tony, “It says ‘Loki’...” Hearing his name, Loki snapped his head up, surprise registering on his face, “Excuse me?” Holding it up for his examination, Pepper waved the slip under the regal nose of the junior Odinson, “See… your name.” “Yes, but why?”

Butting in, Tony snatched the scrap from the hand of his lovely fiance, practically dancing with glee. Turning to Loki, “Now you, Gordon Gecko, pull a slip.” Aware of all eyes locked on him, Loki reached into the jar, digging around a little more than necessary. Finally satisfied, the thin paper pinched between his fingers, Loki opened the folded note. When his fierce gaze met yours, you knew without a doubt. It was your name he had grabbed. Throwing a thick arm across Loki’s broad shoulders, Tony hugged him close, “Well? What’s it say?” It all made sense in that moment. The tacky costumes, flat beer and endless music. A drunken moment of clarity had descended. Tony, waving his arms, eating up the crowd’s reactions, heads turning to gauge your response. Swallowing hard, your hearing failing you, you just faked a smile. You and Loki were going into the closet for Seven Minutes in Heaven. Only there was no way you were going to do that. Not after what he’d said. Not after your one night together, right? But you felt a gentle hand pushing your forward, into the center of your circle of friends and for some reason, your feet followed.

Refusing didn't enter your mind. With everyone ogling you and Loki, making a scene would only cause more speculation, something you weren't keen to do. Instead, you stepped next to Tony, outwardly eager to play along.

You just shouldn't have dared to look at your proposed make out partner. Laser focused, Loki’s lusty look hadn’t wavered. No, the light in those thundering blue eyes was carnal, darker than you had ever seen, matching your own. Against your better judgement, you wanted Loki, too.

Whatever Tony was saying was a blur, merely sounds, because you were utterly stunned by the nearness of Loki. The roaring laughs of the rest of the group were drowned out by your pounding heart. A door opened to a dim room, the pantry maybe? You didn’t know and in that moment you didn’t really care.

With a small smile, Loki ducked into the cupboard, lacing his fingers with yours, offering a bit of his strength. Dragging you inside, your body pinned between a shelf of snacks and the hard body of your frenemy, a whimper of want passed your lips. Loki still smelled so good and now he was so close. “Have fun you two!”, Tony’s words were accompanied by the door shutting you and Loki inside, in the dark. Surrounded by silence, Loki’s sharp pants were the only sound louder than your racing pulse, which was saying something. Afraid to move, afraid of spooking you, Loki struggled to search your stare in the low light. He had already experienced your angry dismissal of his attention tonight. It wasn't something he wanted to relive, not when you were so close with sweet and speedy breath, your chest brushing against his own at each exhale.

Lifting a hand, grazing over your uncovered shoulder, Loki's touch was electric. You moved towards it, towards him, needing more of his energy. Craving it.

Bold in the dark, you grabbed at Loki’s suspenders, tugging him closer. Rising on your toes, covering some of the distance between your mouth and his, you pressed a hot kiss to those soft, pink lips. Under your fluttering fingers Loki shivered, "Darling-"

"Shut up. I… I don't care."

"But I never…"

"I told you. I don't care. Now kiss me like you mean it, because we only have about six more minutes!"

Not needing any more encouragement, Loki found the flare of your hips in the shadows, molding your curves to the rigid planes of his body. Desperate, needy, you felt his tongue move against your own. Want, plain and simple, led your own fingers to the collar of Loki’s starched shirt and the tangle of his raven hair. Fisting it, tugging against those luscious locks, you couldn’t seem to get close enough to the tall God sharing your cupboard. Whining, his name on your lips, you drew Loki tight enough that the press of your breasts was edging towards pain. Demanding, true to your word, with every pass of Loki’s magical mouth over your own the last few weeks were forgotten. Hungry for more, Loki roughly squeezed the flesh of your ass, grinding you against his wool blend covered crotch. Stuttering, his arousal was so stiff, for a minute Loki worried about making a mess. But that feeling was replaced with unbridled ecstasy when your lips found the tender skin below his ear.

A nip, enough to make Loki hiss, was soon soothed by your sucking on the same spot. Resting your butt on the nearest shelf, you didn’t have to stand on tip-toe to reach the soft, sweet sections of Loki where you longed to lavish attention. He took advantage of your new position by sliding a free hand along the swell of your separated thighs. “I just need to feel you, dove. I need to know that you want me as much as I want you.” It was a husky whisper, directly into your ear, and it sent an arc of icy fire to your core. When his long fingers skimmed over the silky slick of your panties you moaned in unison, bucking into Loki’s touch, lost in the moment. Stepping between your legs, Loki took one of your hands into each of his own, pinning you wide open against the boxes of cereal and granola bars that lined the pantry walls. Devouring you slowly, Loki kissed along the column of muscles at your throat, across the exposed line of your clavicle. You could do little more than take his delicious torment as more and more of your sweat dappled skin was serviced by his silver tongue. “Yes… Loki…”, tumbling out of you, just like the night when you first came together, you crooned his name in delight. Breathless, boneless and broken with need. CLICK! The sound made you both freeze. Snapping swiftly, Loki’s head swung towards the door where the bright light and noisy crowd of the party was intruding into your private pantry. “WHOA, WHOA, WHOA! What do we have here?” Swinging into the tight space, Tony’s shrewd look took in the scene in seconds, “What were you two doing in here? It was a very quiet seven minutes!” Straightening to standing, Loki stood, blocking you from sight as you readjusted your clothes. Smoothing down his tangled strands, sarcasm dripping, “Talking. Very quietly.” When he was sure you were decent, Loki offered you his hand, and blinking you stepped back into the wild and raucous party still in full swing. Tony, flashing a knowing grin your way, nodded, “I hope you didn’t smush the chips! We still need those!” Giggling, you locked onto Loki’s arm, letting him lead you towards the keg and away from the shouted questions of your friends. You knew there was no mystery about what happened in those seven minutes. Hair mused, makeup smudged, lips swollen and shirts twisted, the pair of you were walking neon signs for getting to third base.

Silently Loki poured you a beer, taking a small glass of Asgardian mead for himself, before raising his glass your way. Returning his gesture, you downed the frothy ale fast, feeling a little parched after your spit swapping time in the hall closet. Boring into you, his eyes followed each of your movements, searching for a sign of your feelings. Dropping your empty cup on the counter, you turned and jumped onto the marble ledge, feet dangling. “Loki?” Placing his own glass down gently, Loki took his position between your bent knees, looking down at your darling face, “Yes?” “Did you say those things? That I was… boring? Basic?” Shaking his dark waves no, Loki bit into his bottom lip, “Never. What I said was, my last girl, ages ago, was those things… but my new lady-” tracing along your jaw, tipping your chin his way, “-she is everything I could ever want.”

“Am I… am I your new lady, then?” With a fierce flicker of fire in his eyes, Loki nodded yes this time, “Absolutely.” Leaning into him, arms around his neck, you tugged him down to meet your waiting lips. “Good. Good to know. Because I think I’m going to watch a movie tonight.” “Really? I recall really enjoying the last one.” “Hmm… me too.” Sliding off the counter, ducking under Loki’s long arms, you turned back to face him, “My room… say, an hour?”

Snapping his suspenders, smirking, “I’ll be there.” Watching you skip away made Loki’s pulse pound in anticipation. Pouring himself another glass of clear liquor, he chuckled, amazed at the change seven minutes had created.

“You’re welcome.” “Ah! Yes, many thanks Tony.”

Leaning against the counter, Tony knocked into Loki’s shoulder, “You’re cute together, Rock of Ages, but don’t make me regret helping you tonight! Treat her right.”

“Of course. I... truly, thank you.”, sincerity seeped from Loki at the favor from Tony. “No worries! No worries!” Waving away any additional gratitude, Tony looked over the group of half cocked, and totally cocked heroes before him, “Of course the real bitch was getting Pepper to pull your name from the bowl…”

My Marvelous Minxes tag-list: @queenofmischief @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatalie @sammy-jo1977 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @is-it-madness @jenjen8675309 @alexakeyloveloki @poetic-fiasco

#loki x reader #loki x you #hot loki #loki smut #loki love #1000followers #mcu smut #mcu fanfiction #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #80's #80's loki #80's mcu

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kintatsujo · 3 years ago

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LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part TWENTY-SEVEN

Here’s the previous post, sorry this one took a couple days ^^; I keep overextending because I’m as excited to get to the denouement as I am to be writing the boss fight. (The denouement has some fun character moments)

These next couple posts are mostly more like prose with illustrations.

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

Astramorus manages to get back to the altar and the stone beds the girls have been laid out on; despite having had to dodge whipping tentacles a number of times the God's Nightmare in the middle of the room seems a little more concerned with its Manifestations and the Triforce bearers.

Serenumbra is nowhere to be seen, but there's a door ajar to the side, leading to the Sanctuary sacristy (a sacristy is a little room off the side of a church sanctuary that is basically a combination storage room and prep room.)

Astramorus has to get these Princesses out of the way of these tentacles anyway, so he gets Hilda into a fireman's carry and tucks Zelda under his arm and drags them both over through the door, making note that there's another door in the back of the sacristy leading somewhere dark.

[Image Description: Astramorus has Hilda along his back and Zelda tucked under his arm and is attempting to walk fast while dragging them; it’s awkward because while Princess Zelda is fairly little for fourteen, Princess Hilda is taller than he is and her feet are dragging behind while her head droops over his shoulder. They are also both completely dead weight. End ID.]

(The girls have been spelled asleep; they’ll be fine eventually.)

After that he goes back to the altar and grabs the heavy book of magic at the book stand, because Serenumbra left that behind as well.

He makes sure neither Hilda or Zelda are too uncomfortable, then he heads down the dark tunnel after Serenumbra, book in hand.

It's certainly dark enough to give a man pause, no evidence of light any further down the corridor. Astramorus knows this probably leads to the castle throne room, eventually, but who knows how many other tunnels and caves may also be connected.

But Astramorus is a priest, and Link shoved a few fairies on him before they came here, and he knows a few things about fairies most people don't.

He pulls one of his little fairy jars and a silver rupee from his pocket, and he hums a little prayer as he unstoppers the jar and drops the expensive little gem inside.

"Please, little one," he says to the fairy. "Guide me through the dark and help me find the one I seek."

The fairy puts her hands on the silver rupee in acceptance of the offering, absorbing its magic into herself and spiraling up out of the jar.

"Let's go!" she says, zipping ahead, and Astramorus smiles and follows her.

[Image Description: Astramorus holds his hand under a brightly glowing fairy, a faint smile on his face. She’s mostly obscured by her own light but appears to be a tiny woman with antennae, and she’s saluting him cheekily. End ID.]

If you’re not familiar with Legend of Zelda, this is not a mechanic in any game, but it should be.

"You're awfully confident for a shadow from a bad dream," Dinravi says to Nightmare Demise, shaking out his hand from the punch and drawing his sword. "Mama, please check on Ghirahim, I'll call for you if I need help."

Nightmare Demise snarls, pulling a sword from shadow that only barely resembles the form Ghirahim himself once took. Eltani nods at her son and goes to Ghirahim still on the floor, using her sword to bat a tentacle away from him as she arrives at his side.

"You know that's NOT your old master, demon," she says, shaking his shoulder as if to rouse him.

Ghirahim closes his eyes, still shaking. "It's not- It's not that simple," he whispers. "I... I can't."

[Image Description: Eltani is staring at Ghirahim in some shock and concern. He’s gone flushed, and he’s shaking, staring at the floor, his mouth tense. End ID.]

Queen Zelda's Nightmare warps from OOT Zelda to a dragon, and Zelda takes it out with a blast of light in the mouth. It shifts from the dragon to a massive Moldorm and she casually strikes its tail with a hand. "I can do this as long as I have to," she tells the writhing shape. It becomes a man with a boar's head and she wrinkles her nose, grabbing the spear it strikes at her with. "Stop that," she says, and now she goes ahead and burns her magic reserves for one massive blast, burning her Nightmare completely away. She looks up to see that Astramorus is dragging the princesses into the safety of the sacristy and nods grimly at him, then turns to the nearest other fight in the room, which is Dinravi against Nightmare Demise.

Queen Zelda fishes a magic replenishing potion from the pocket of her skirt and then joins Eltani next to Ghirahim as she drinks it. Eltani gives her a helpless expression as she kneels beside them and puts a hand on Ghirahim's shoulder.

[Image Description: Queen Zelda drinking from a blue bottle as she walks. A legend reads: “Magic Replenishing Potion: It’s the Blue One!” End ID.]

"You cannot face the shade of your first master?" Zelda asks Ghirahim.

Ghirahim looks down and shakes his head. "I know it's not him, I know it's not him," he whispers harshly, and then repeats: "It's not that simple."

"It's fear," Zelda concludes, and he inhales sharply, shakily. "Lord Ghirahim, listen to me. If you cannot face him, look instead at the man you would call master now."

Dinravi is a flashy sort of fighter but this isn't some graceful sword duel; it's a brawl and a bullfight wrapped in one. Nightmare Demise and Dinravi are taunting one another in turn, but Demise is focusing on Dinravi's youth while Dinravi's jibes are laser focused on how fucked up it is that Ghirahim, Demise's most loyal lieutenant, is so afraid of him, what that says about Demise and how this thing isn't even the real Demise, just a ranting shadow.

It's when Ghirahim really looks up and is seeing this, though, that Nightmare Demise mimics something he recognizes, and calls down lightning to throw at Dinravi's face. He panics, calling out Dinravi's name.

[Image Description: Dinravi catches the lightning in one hand with a “CRACK,” the lightning overflowing around him. "One of my ancestors was the Lady Urbosa," he says, his hand sparking. Sparks overflow from his eyes like tears, but he’s smiling. "You think I've never fought with lightning?" Cut to Ghirahim, who’s blushing so hard the tips of his ears have gone red, the sparks reflected in his wide eyes. A legend informs: “Ghirahim is REALLY doomed.” End ID.]

(For the record getting to namedrop Urbosa as one of Dinravi’s ancestors is the major reason CoRA is post-AoC timeline. We have stepped into rule of cool territory but it’s the climactic boss fight, it’s allowed.)

Queen Zelda smiles in Dinravi's direction fondly, then says, "Lord Ghirahim, I understand if you aren't ready to face a shadow of your past. But perhaps you can help me with the main Nightmare and we'll see if that helps Prince Dinravi in turn, yes?"

Ghirahim looks at her, and then he stands.

Link, meanwhile, is sharing no taunts with the Nightmare of the Fierce Deity, though the Fierce Deity is certainly continuing to offer unnervingly calm and gentle commentary, on his form, his fears, his accomplishments.

Link is doing his damndest not to actually listen.

(and this post is long enough so we’re getting into THAT in the next post, which is already mostly written)

#my art #loz #loz au #loz au: the courage of running away #au august

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firelordzukohere · 4 years ago

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Interior Decor

Hello! I started this blog because I wrote a Zuko x Reader fanfiction and I wanted somewhere to post it that wasn’t my main blog.

I came up with the idea for this fic randomly one day and I thought I’d write it down and share it with you all. It’s going to be 4 parts with a possible epilogue, but I’m not sure yet. Please let me know what you think!!

I’ll be updating every Sunday with a new chapter! Hopefully you guys really like this and��keep reading!!

I’ve also posted it to AO3 if you’d prefer to read it there

Thanks!

Zuko X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Aangst(heh), and some implications

Word Count: Almost 3k

Summary: Iroh felt it was time for the Palace to reflect the time of Peace and Love that Zuko promised five years earlier at his coronation. He takes it upon himself to hire an interior decorator to help his nephew out and work together. What he didn’t expect was for Zuko to possibly find his own peace and love in the process.

Chapter 1: Feng Shui >> Chapter 2: Tchotchke

Walking into the grand entrance of the Fire Nation Palace, (Y/N) couldn't help but stop and begin mentally jotting down the changes she would make to the décor. It was very dingy, dark, and drab, as though the Palace had been sitting in it's own dusty iceberg for a hundred years, keeping it's hatred preserved with each speck of dirt. The windows were covered in black-out fabric, the walls had pictures of past Fire Lords glaring down at those who dared to enter their sacred home of destruction, plants wilted and dead, no life left within them, and the carpet looked as though it had seen millions upon millions of feet within its lifetime.

Now, (Y/N) wasn't trying to be rude, but it was her job to notice these things. She had been hired by General Iroh to redo the interior of the Fire Nation Palace. This meant every single room from the throne room to the dining hall, the ballroom to the Fire Lord's private quarters, everything needed a refresh. She expected this kind of thing to be done back when the Fire Lord had first taken over, however, her services weren't requested until five years after his coronation.

Which is why she stood at the entrance, questioning why it took them so long to get someone in here. The poor Palace staff and the Fire Lord must be drowning in darkness and discomfort. Not to mention cowering in fear at Sozin, Azulon, and Ozai's deep glares within several portraits throughout.

She was busy having a staring contest with Ozai, which she was undoubtedly losing because he was terrifying to look at, when Iroh walked up and greeted her with a warm smile. The look immediately lit the room up, sending a comforting feeling from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes as if she had just dipped herself into the warm ocean to cool off.

"Ah! Miss (Y/N), thank you for your patience," he bowed causing her to return the sign of respect back, "I was just making sure my nephew was ready for our meeting today as well. He's just finishing up with the council, so we'll go on ahead without him and he can catch up," the older man winked before guiding her further into the Palace, "Please, tell me what you think so far, first impressions may not always be accurate, but they do tell quite a lot, especially when it comes to decoration," Iroh said as they walked.

Clearing her throat, (Y/N) tuned into her interior decorator mode. "I feel like I'm living in the Fire Palace from Sozin's time," she said, bluntly, however still with a hint of hope. "I feel like this Palace has most likely been causing the Fire Lord nothing but stress, as though it's a dark cloud looming over his head, watching his every move, almost like Ozai never left." Her voice calm and diplomatic, she had dealt with several Fire Nation officials before and no matter how often she tried to soften the blow, she was usually always dealt with backlash and anger over her honest opinion of the look.

Iroh, however, surprised her, and laughed with his whole body, resting his hands on his stomach for a moment, stopping their stride. "My dear, you are spot on!" This immediately caused (Y/N) to smile brightly, grateful that she was with a client who didn't seem to want to fight her every move. "Even when Ozai and I were boys growing up in the Palace here, we always felt as though we were living during Sozin's reign. Not that we believed that to be a bad thing at the time," he chuckled before continuing on down the hall.

The hallway led into the throne room, which was one of the biggest rooms in the Palace according to the layout that Iroh had given her during her interview with him. The only other room that was as large was the ballroom followed closely by the dining hall.

"This is where my nephew holds council with everyone in all four nations, whoever wants a seat with him. My brother, father, and grandfather stopped using it for that purpose and just became a place to dish out their royal decrees, banishing visitors that were not worthy." (Y/N) frowned listening to the history of this room. "My nephew likes this room to be where he listens and does very little talking, which I think is a wonderful sentiment to have." She nodded and began jotting down notes on her parchment.

There needed to be more light, some greenery added to liven up the place, possibly a little less fire around the throne itself, to seem more welcoming. Overall, the layout of the room was beautiful, it just needed some acceptance instead of deterrence.

Iroh led her toward the next room which appeared to be the ballroom. It was gorgeous, high ceilings with chandeliers, ready for their candles to be lit and make the glass sparkle, tall windows that went nearly from the floor to the ceiling providing a glorious view of the garden outside. Other than a couple of touch ups here and there, this room was incredible. However, it looked like it hadn't been used in centuries. Webs and dust littered the vast room, sheets covered small tables and seating areas and were yellowed with age.

"When my father took power, dancing and parties became nonexistent. He loathed people enjoying themselves, obviously because he did not. My nephew would like to throw a celebration after this redecoration, allowing all nations to come together and dance." Iroh smiled.

"Obviously it was more of a strong suggestion by the Dragon of the West, who rumor has it, excelled in dancing due to his bond with the dragons," a husky voice behind them added, causing the two to turn and find the Fire Lord standing behind them in his royal attire, with a small smirk on his face.

(Y/N) had seen beautiful interiors, gorgeous landscapes, sunsets, flowers, paintings, structures, and everything in between, however, her breath left her body the moment her eyes landed on the Fire Lord in person. He was a very handsome man, defined features and golden eyes that pierced any girl's heart.

This admiration, unfortunately, caused her to stare at him longer than normal, creating an awkward tension within the room. Beside her, Iroh cleared his throat, waking the girl from her trance on his nephew. She blushed furiously and bowed properly to the Fire Lord.

"Your Highness, my apologies, I wasn't expecting you this early," she whispered quickly attempting to cover her ogling with a valid reason, "I'm grateful that you have allowed me the opportunity to work on your home and make it something that you'll enjoy living within and celebrating for years to come." He smiled at her before turning to Iroh.

"It wasn't exactly my plan, as I said, the Dragon of the West is a very convincing man and deemed it necessary that since I was bringing a time of new, the Palace should reflect that." Iroh smirked.

"Please Fire Lord Zuko," Iroh said with a hint of snark in his voice, "I just couldn't bear to see you glare at the paintings of your father strewn everywhere and decided it was a time for change." Zuko blushed and sent a small glare at Iroh. "Plus, you're never going to woo any ladies with a Palace looking like this!" His statement caused (Y/N) to cover her mouth quickly and let out a giggle. Hearing the noise from her, Zuko's face burned darker, matching the Fire Nation red of his robes. "Anyway, my dear nephew, I must leave you at this time, you see it's nearly noon and I have a Pai Sho game to play with an old friend," he stepped back and bowed to both his nephew and (Y/N). "I'm sure you can take care of the rest of the tour and inform her on any changes you'd like. She's brilliant and really knows what she's doing so take everything she has to offer into account."

"Wait, you're not staying?" (Y/N) stopped him, nervously. Iroh smiled and shook his head.

"This isn't my home, it's his, he should be first hand in working with you. You're both smart and will definitely come up with something great together." Zuko's eyes were daggers as he looked at his Uncle. Iroh merely smirked before stepping away and back down the hallway she had originally met him in.

"I apologize for my Uncle, he's… eccentric, to say the least," the Fire Lord said with a frown. "I guess we should move on with the tour," he mumbled awkwardly before shuffling toward the room after the ballroom. The dining hall.

They traveled through the dining hall, the council chambers-as Zuko refused to call it the war room anymore, the spa rooms, a few bedrooms though they all looked the same according to the Fire Lord, several various hallways, where they finally ended, his bedroom.

(Y/N) had filled several parchments with notes and ideas for the Palace. She was already growing excited about the new plans and was ready to bring some life back into the Fire Nation's symbolic building.

"Not much needs to be done in here, to be honest, I don't use it for anything other than a place to sleep," he grumbled as he had essentially the entire tour. After Iroh had left, Zuko seemed unenthusiastic about showing her around and even less excited about her decorating anything.

"With all do respect, your Highness," she started, unable to bite her tongue this time, as she had the previous dozen times he said that he didn't need much done to the room, "that's a problem. Your bedroom should be a safe haven where you go to escape, especially with your job," her (Y/E/C) eyes narrowed in his direction, attempting to convey her seriousness about the situation. "This room is a comfort to you, not a grave to your father's previous sins." His single eyebrow cocked.

"With all do respect Miss…" it was then he realized he didn't know her name. Iroh had handled all the details, Zuko simply nodded his head and did as his uncle said.

"(Y/N)," she whispered somewhat defensively, ready for his retort.

"(Y/N)…" he repeated, "I have an escape in the Palace, though it may not be my bedroom like it seems to be for several of your clients, I can assure you, I'm not like them." He began to walk out of the bedroom, stopping only to turn back at her and nudge his head, signaling her to follow.

Confused, the decorator followed him back toward the ballroom and out into the garden. This view had caught her eye earlier when she was first in the ballroom with Iroh and now, finally getting a thorough look, she couldn't help but stare at the area in awe.

A large tree sat in the center of the zen place, a tiny pond full of quacking turtle ducks swimming happily within. Several other trees and flower bushes littered the area, with small fountains and statues around. It was serene and tranquil, calm seemed to wash over her instantly as she took in her surroundings, admiring the wonderful atmosphere that the garden provided.

Zuko led her toward the pond where he crouched down to rub the head of one of the turtle ducks with the back of his index finger. The duckling quacked and nuzzled closer to his touch instinctively. As the other turtle ducks saw this, they began swimming toward, looking for their own affection from the Fire Lord as well.

(Y/N) couldn't help but stare at the interaction before her, amazed at how the Fire Lord's demeanor changed rapidly. He seemed at peace and happy in this moment just spending time with ducklings in the garden.

"You see, miss (Y/N), while others escape to their bedrooms, I find myself coming here where I can be calm with my thoughts," he smirked up at her as he pat the last turtle duck on the head and then straightened up. With a sigh, she nodded her head, understanding what he meant now. "I do, however, agree, that my room needs more of a makeover than I initially suggested. You're welcome to do with it as you will, just make sure my belongings are taken care of properly." She looked up at him hopeful that he was okay with her being there.

Smiling, she moved toward the tree next to the pond and plopped down. It wasn't quite as ladylike as Zuko expected, like he had witnessed his mother, Mai, Azula, and Ty Lee do, but he couldn't help but smile and follow her lead, sitting down beside her. As she began handing him papers with notes, he watched as she animatedly talked about what she was going to do with each room and how it was supposed to make him feel more comfortable.

"For a Nation about light and the sun, your Palace has very little of it," she started, pointing at sketches she had apparently made as they walked of the different rooms, "I think removing the coverings on the windows and allowing more light to come in will be great. Plus, the sun makes Firebenders feel better, so why wouldn't they want more of it?" Zuko nodded, realizing that it made a lot of sense. "Then your people will be able to see you better instead of the dark shadow that Ozai assumingly was previous." Her casual use of his father's name seemed to shock him, but he didn't say anything and continued to listen. "If they see your face, they'll feel they can trust you more, you're not a bad man to look at either and that could possibly help you in the department General Iroh was requesting which was a new lady friend." She rushed through quickly.

Zuko held up his hand to stop her, "Contrary to what my uncle says, I don't need a woman to make me happy." He said, "I'm doing just fine all on my own." This caused her to stare at him for a few moments in deep thought and Zuko couldn't help but wonder what was going through her head. She seemed to be lost in herself for a moment before her vision returned and she realized she had been staring intently at the Fire Lord.

With a small shake of her head, she focused normally back on him, "I'm sorry, um… yes you're right, you don't need a woman, I was just trying to help." She mumbled before looking down at her papers awkwardly. Zuko handed her back the ones that he had been given and smiled.

"These look great (Y/N), why don't we start tomorrow on it? I will approve anything you want to do," he said trying to reassure the girl who had what felt like an emotional moment from his words.

"No, let me do this right, especially with the Palace. I will return with better sketches tomorrow and then if everything is approved I can bring in a team to start clearing out rooms. We'll do them one by one so you're not without the entire Palace for a couple of weeks," she said, watching as he stood up and held out his hand for her to take. Gently she pressed her palm to his and goosebumps ran up her arm at the shockingly warm contact. He smiled as he helped her to her feet, waiting several moments before leading her hand back to her side and slipping it from his grasp. "Thank you for this opportunity your Highness, you have no idea how excited I am to be able to help you feel like this is your home," she repeated her earlier sentiment with a long bow.

"Zuko," he said bluntly, causing her to look up at him from her bow. Her eyebrow cocked slightly and he couldn't help but smirk at the emotion written across her face. "Call me Zuko, none of this your Highness formality."

With reddened cheeks she smiled and nodded her head. He led her back into the ballroom and toward the entrance to the Palace. "Tomorrow then?" she asked as they reached the grand doorway.

"Tomorrow," he said, looking at her intently. "I'm interested to see what you bring me (Y/N)," he bowed to her.

She returned the bow with one final word for farewell, "Zuko." Her lips formed a smirk that Zuko couldn't stop his eyes from studying for as long as he could before she turned and made her way down the steps, internally wondering why this job made her feel all fuzzy inside.

I hope you guys liked it! Please let me know! Thanks!

Master List

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worlds-forgotten · 3 years ago

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Stranger

summary: A night between the events in the bar with the townsfolk and the battle with the Karyt dragon. Cobb offers his home to the newcomers, with pleasurable circumstances that follow.

pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Cobb Vanth

warnings: smut, swearing

word count: 7.7k

rating: Mature

posted: 20/11/23

“It could have gone worse, ‘suppose.” Cobb kicked some sand as they exited the building, thumbing his belt and looking to the setting suns. The Mandalorian’s gaze followed that of the marshal’s, and he sighed. “Just glad they’re willing to work together, for now.”

The heat of the day was still fresh, despite the cool evening creeping in. Din felt it under his heavy armour - sweat behind his knees, on the back of his neck, in his gloves - if time and privacy allowed it, he may stray away from the town far enough to take off his gear and wipe down a bit, get some fresh air. But as he looked at the ground, where the foundling was just at his boot, Din realized he would need to settle the child in before anything else. They didn’t have any food or water left with them, and that night, he would be relying on the generosity of strangers to feed the kid. His own stomach could wait, despite the faint hunger pang he felt.

The bi-sunset created a warm, orange glow across the desert dunes, casting a feeling of security, even with the next day’s task ahead. It had been awhile since the Mandalorian felt he had the time to appreciate the scenery; Always on the run, looking for a job, tasked with an adventure, it didn't allow for a lot of sightseeing.

The child cooed and grasped Mando’s boot, so he leaned over and scooped him into his arms, before turning toward Vanth.

“He needs rest, and nourishment. Is there somewhere-”

“Ha!” Cobb loudly interrupted, patting Din roughly on the back. “Any visitor in my town is a friend to me. That includes your little pet here, follow me.”

Mando had the urge to correct the marshal as he followed him that the kid wasn’t a pet, but he didn’t have an accurate description of what he was, so he left it, opting to stay silent as he crossed the town’s main roadway and into a hut tucked in the far end.

Inside wasn’t anything particularly special, just some basic furniture, some of which looked knocked together and recycled from scraps, but it clearly suited Cobb just fine, who placed down the green helmet that had been tucked under his arm, along with his belts and blaster.

“It’s not much,” Cobb pushed aside some glasses on the table, though he had no shame in his voice. “But we don’t need much out here. You seem like the kind of fellow who knows how to live off of bits and ends.”

“We manage.” Mando replied gruffly, adjusted the kid in his arms. He was feeling rather ansty on his feet - it had been a long 24 hours without much rest and a lot of travelling, and he was sure he would sleep a solid 10 hours if he allowed it, but the dread of facing the giant sand creature and gaining the armour back from the marshal lay heavy on his mind.

This deal didn’t only benefit himself and the child, but his entire culture. If the plan went awry and he couldn’t take the armour back, he wasn’t sure what he would do. It wouldn’t be fair to take it forcefully after the deal, but it felt even worse to think about leaving it behind. The recent loss of the allies back home (though he didn’t really think of it as home anymore) kept the bounty hunter on edge now, as if any bit that was left of his people inside him would crumble away if he wasn’t careful enough.

The marshal seemed much more relaxed, considering the circumstances, especially since he was ready for a faceoff with the town’s new visitor only hours earlier. But now, the silver-haired man was sporting a grin and a casual gaze that made Din feel like there was an ulterior motive to why he and the kid were now cornered in the marshal’s hut. Mando’s fingers ghosted the blaster in the holster on his side.

“Well, there’s green and blue milk for the kid,” Cobb gestured to the food bin, “not much to eat I’m afraid, except some Bantha veal.” He stood and pulled out a strip of dried meat and offered it to Din, who visibly calmed as he accepted it. No harm in trusting strangers, occasionally, he supposed.

The kid happily snatched the food and was placed on the table, as the marshal poured some floral green milk into a cup, which was also passed along to the foundling, who slurped it up quickly.

“So, uh, if that’s yours,” Cobb leaned against the counter, a little too close for Din’s comfort, and gestured between him and the foundling. “Is that what you look like? Under there?” He said this, referring to the hemet. “Or did you hook up with a..”

The Mandalorian had picked up a long time ago that despite wearing a mask, he was unusually good at reflecting his emotions, and others were very good at picking up on his body language. Vanth clearly got the message when he stopped talking and laughed, holding his hands up defensively.

“Sorry, that was rude of me. Never mind, hey?” He laughed, all charming grins. He struck Mando as the type of guy who thought flashing smiles and sly remarks could get him out of anything. “You wouldn’t be able to fit those big ol’ ears under there anyways, right?” The marshal reached out a hand to give a gentle tug on the kid’s ear, who cooed in response, green milk dribbling down his chin.

Din wiped it away instinctively, before picking the kid up, who had finished his meal, clearly grateful as he let out a quieter, sleepier coo.

“Oh!” The marshal stood up, looking around. “I’ve got a crate of sorts, he can sleep in it if he likes. Probably better than sleeping out on that old bike outside.” Mando followed the man into a small room in the back that appeared to be fairly unused, just some old boxes and clothes, and a few weapons on shelves. The room across the hall seemed to be the marshal’s bedroom, but the door was only slightly ajar for viewing inside.

“Here ya go,” Cobb stepped aside to reveal a rectangular crate lined with an old blanket. “Little guy is all tuckered out.”

Looking down, Din saw that the foundling had fallen asleep while being held, so he was placed gently inside the crate, with Mando acutely aware that Vantha was watching, right behind him. He unwrapped the cowl from his neck and used it to wrap around the little green child, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

“I appreciate your hospitality,” Mando placed a hand on his hip in the main room, “if there's anything I can do..”

“No, no,” Cobb waved his hands cooly, walking into the kitchen. “You’ll be doing more than enough tomorrow, and now, you can sit and join me for a drink.”

“Marshal-”

The gray haired man laughed, pulling out a glass and a bottle of something pale gold and glimmering. “I know, I know, you can’t in front of me. Unless you want a straw to just suck up from under there?”

The look was given again, and the marshal couldn’t seem to stop laughing. Din didn’t see what was so amusing all the time, though he supposed the town didn’t get too many visitors, and perhaps Vanth had gone mildly loopy from seeing the same 30 people everyday.

“Just kidding, you take things too seriously. Sit down,” he offered, reclining himself at the table. The Mandalorian took the offer, clunking down into the seat, and feeling heavier than usual. He still longed to go and take off his gear, if just for a few minutes, in the clear of any prying eyes. The recent missions had taken a toll on his body, while he was extremely well trained and adapted to his lifestyle, the peak in activity between the Guild and the business with the foundling - it was beginning to feel more like an ache in his bones, with no time to cure his exhaustion. The thought of sleeping in a warm bed without fear of his or the kid’s life could make him drool if he thought too hard about it.

But now, he watched Cobb down one, then two, small glasses of the gold liquid without so much as a flinch, even though he could smell the bitterness of the alcohol from across the table and through the helmet. The marshal was impressive, for sure, even despite their stand off earlier. Really, to the defense of the marshal, he had only been looking out for his fellow man, and not having understood the intricacies of the Mandalorian culture, thought donning the armour would help that along. He wouldn’t have known the offense behind it, and perhaps Mando had been a bit harsh, before. But with his recent revelation with his worry for loss of connection to his people, he himself also couldn’t be blamed for his reaction.

“Thank you, again,” Mando leaned forward, elbows on the table. He watched Cobb’s face carefully for any signs of dishonestly, but there wasn’t any - just that same, genuine toothy grin. The marshal laughed. “It’s all good, friend. New faces are more than welcome, even if at first they’re a bit..”

“Standoffish?”

“Yeah,” Vanth swiped a hand through his silver locks. Mando swallowed hard. “I was ready to blast your helmet off straight. Could have done it, too.” Cobb knocked back the rest of his drink.

Din had to chuckle. It was evident to the both of them that Cobb would not win hand to hand, or even with blasters, but he allowed the man a small victory. “You must be familiar with a weapon, to have fought off the mining corp yourself.”

“Mostly thanks to your peoples’ fashion choice.”

“Were you trained?’

“Me?” Vanth choked. “Maker, no. I was no better at shootin’ than Kalaks are at simple thought. It was a lot of chance - I was determined to make sure this town was better than how I had grown up. No person deserves to be a slave.”

This peaked Mando’s otherwise tired attention. “You..”

“Yep. Lots of us around here were. There’s been liberations, freeing the people and what not, but it’s still there, y’know? It doesn’t just leave overnight. Hasn’t left me, I don’t think it ever will. Even if I’m not a physical slave anymore, I still have..” He swirled his cup around the table for a moment before seeming to snap out of his daze. “Well. All that’s in the past now. I’m much better with my hands now,” he added with a wink and that damn smile again, and Din felt hotter under his mask than he had all day. He could punch out Cobb’s perfect teeth. “So tell me about you, then.” The marshal added with another sip of his drink.

“Not much to tell.”

“Come on, there’s got to be something. We’ll start nice and easy. What’s your name?”

Mando cocked his head. He wasn’t getting that comfortable.

“No? Okay,” Vanth smacked his lips. “Are you human?”

“Yes.”

“There we go!” Cobb threw a hand up. “Now we’re getting somewhere! How old are you? You seem young, pretty fit, wouldn’t see no guys with aching joints doing your kinds of jobs.”

Din thought of his tiredness. He wasn’t old, but he didn’t feel young anymore either.

“I’m not too old myself, don’t worry, the hair is a misnomer of its own.” The marshal ruffled his own haircut, and Mando wondered what he had meant by ‘too old’. For what?

There was an animal howl from somewhere deep in the wastelands of sand dunes around them, and the Mandalorian clenched his jaw to suppress a yawn. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it the whole night without falling asleep. He looked around the room. There was a tattered chair that had a cushion, he could maybe doze in that for an hour or two before sunrise.

“So how come your armour’s so much nicer than mine?” Vanth pointed at the chest plate, a look of genuine curiosity on his face.

“Mine didn’t come from a Jawa’s trashpile.”

“I mean seriously-”

“It’s beskar. It has a long history with my people, and is nearly indestructible. Which is why it’s so valuable.”

“More indestructible than what I’ve got on?”

“Yes.”

“Wow,” Cobb smirked. “So it stays on.”

“Yes.”

“All the time.”

Mando sighed. “Yes, in front of others.”

“Like, even during..” Vanth gave the Mandalorian a knowing smirk, and Din felt that familiar heat on his face return, and he turned his visor away, giving the marshal a good chuckle. “I guess that means you don’t get around much then.”

You don’t know me, Din wanted to say, but Cobb was right. The lifestyle and religion certainly didn’t allow much leeway in terms of physical relationships. Not that it mattered, he was never in one place long enough to even entertain the idea. Not that it hadn’t happened before, though it was very rare. The last time was more than a year ago, on Ithor. It was quick and messy, and she had barely touched him, save for her legs wrapped around his hips desperately. A quick lift of her dress and it was over in minutes, he hadn’t even had time to take his gloves off. He supposed it could have been the nature of her species, and he certainly didn’t like to discriminate, but the ache he had deep in his soul, a longing to just be held-

He thought then of Omera, left behind on Sorgan, when she had tried to make him stay, and how gently she had touched his hands and helmet, and a deep longing stirred in the pit of Din’s stomach. It was not the time or the place to be thinking like that.

Instead he watched Cobb’s gaze, which was lowered beneath thick eyelashes. He was playing with his glass again, before his eyes flicked up to meet the Mandalorian’s behind the mask. Din couldn’t deny that the marshal was ruggedly handsome, with a certain charm that could melt his beskar armour away to reveal the reserved man beneath. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds of eye contact before Cobb leaned across the table, swaying slightly with presumably the influence of alcohol in his system. “What do you look like, under there?” He asked quietly, his drawl less pronounced with his whisper. “Has anyone seen you?”

“Not since I was a child.” Mando replied, lowering his own voice to match. He felt a lump in his throat and a rise in his heart rate. He had been with men before - not many, but it was the little experience he had that kept him planted in his seat, despite the logical side of his mind telling him to leave before things escalated. He knew what the marshal wanted, he could see it in those glazed and squinting eyes, in the way his hand creeped across the table, and how his gaze swayed from the tip of the helmet to Mando’s hand which rested on the surface of the table in front of them.

Ever so slowly, as if trying not to scare away an animal, Vanth reached over and touched Din’s glove, and he flinched away, but Cobb seized his wrist, touched that little bit of skin that poked out between his glove and sleeve. Their bare skin was melding - the marshal’s fingertips caressing the inner exposed arm of the Mandalorian.

“Vanth-” he said shortly, unmoving.

“Mando.” Cobb replied with a flash of teeth. His grip tightened slightly, urging Din to react. “Don’t be nervous. You won’t break my heart if you say no.”

I can’t say yes is the problem. Heart racing, the Mandalorian closed his eyes behind the helmet. He relished this small contact, the way Vanth thumbed beneath his sleeve, which was pushing it, but a welcome intrusion. Somehow, Din knew the marshal needed it just as much as he did. The tell tale sign was the shudder that came from Cobb’s finger. “Nervous?” Mando broke the silence. “That’s saying a lot from someone who’s shaking.”

Cobb playfully squeezed where his hand rested. “Shakin’? Nah,” he stood suddenly, his chair almost falling back, but it stayed upwards, and surprisingly so did Cobb, despite the alcohol he consumed that evening. The marshal walked around Mando’s chair, and leaned in close to the helmet, where Din’s ear would be beneath it, and whispered, “I’m just thinking about how good you’ll look sprawled on my bed.”

Without another word, he walked down the short corridor and turned into the bedroom. The swagger in his walk said, I know you want me, with a thumb in his belt and the slow thunking of his boots against the stone floor.

Din stayed in his seat, his hand still on the table, wrist exposed, and a stupid expression on his face behind the mask. He supposed he could just stand and leave, collect the kid in the morning, and forget this ever happened, but something kept him in the hut; Desire, loneliness, a sense of duty or repayment, a yearn to feel something more than he had before (as if this stranger could give what he was looking for, but it was a start in the right direction).

Wanting to slap himself, Din resisted the urge to laugh aloud. Was he the one who had drank half a bottle of whiskey? His ache was getting the best of him. Better to deal with the issue in the bedroom before he began fantasizing too much about an easier life where he could be held whenever he desired.

“You’re drunk,” he stated, and felt stupid after, standing in the bedroom doorway, since it was an obvious statement, but he didn’t know what else to say as he watched Cobb sitting on the edge of a bed, pulling his boot off.

The marshal laughed mirthfully. “Yeah, well,” his second boot thumped onto the ground. “I often am. Ain’t no bother, I know what I’m doing.” Standing, the silver haired man crossed the room, standing before the Mandalorian, a bit taller, and he ran his hands down Din’s arms. “Thing is, I don’t know much about you. Tell me your name, at least, stranger.”

He contemplated this for a moment. It couldn’t do too much harm to tell him the truth - the chance of it causing any problems were slim to none. No one else had to know. But, it would be against…

He didn’t have the chance to answer before Vanth tugged him closer towards the bed, and eventually was on his knees on the thin mattress, so they were about eye level. Cobb ran a hand over the shiny Beskar of Din’s helmet, and held either side of the mask. For a moment, Mando was worried he was going to yank it off, and instinctively, reached for his blaster, but the marshal laughed, grabbing his hand gently.

“Just calm down, ‘kay?” He unbuckled the belt and holster from Din’s pants and cast them aside. “Don’t talk much, do you? All action?”

“Not much to say.” The marshal laughed at this, and the Mandalorian wondered if he found everything funny or if he did it to cease awkward silence. “Well, you don’t gotta say anything except my name tonight, stranger.” He added with a wink, and reached forward to unhook Din’s chestplate.

“Wait,” He stopped him with a hand on the sternum.

Cobb instantly froze, matching Mando’s gaze in the visor, “Not okay?”

“Not the plate. Not the helmet.”

“Rest is fair game?” He smirked, Maker, the smirk, and tugged Din’s belt loops so he stumbled forward and fell flush against Cobb. “Just cause you don’t got much to say doesn’t mean you can’t say anything. Let me know if I, uh, cross any Mandalore lines, okay?”

Din didn’t reply and stayed stiff for a moment, before reaching to unclasp his arm gauntlets, and Vanth took the message and helped him and himself taking off various weapons and belts and shielding. They did this in a comfortable silence until it was just them, the pile of extremities on the floor, and Mando’s chest armour and helmet.

Cobb thumbed the thin fabric of the long sleeved shirt Din was still wearing, along with his pants. As they were the two items closest to his bare skin under layers of other clothes and armour, the Mandalorian was acutely aware that he probably smelled a bit ripe from the hot desert, and felt embarrassed, but if Vanth could tell, he didn’t seem to care. His bare hands rubbed across Din’s stomach and he got a glint in his eyes. Clearly, whatever Din was doing by just standing there, straight as a board, was getting Vanth off, because he moaned quietly before meeting Mando’s eyeline.

“You’re a real work, y’know that?”

Din wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but he let Cobb guide him to lay down on the bed, and watched as the marshal straddled him, then reached to grab the hem of his own shirt and pulled it over his head.

His sun kissed skin gleamed with the warmth of the desert sky, and his toned chest tensed as Vanth shifted his weight to get more comfortable in the Mandalorian’s lap.

“Enjoying the view?” The silver haired man teased.

Mando hummed in response, placing his ungloved hands on the marshal’s hips. “Be a lot better if you weren’t being so kriffing slow.”

“Wow, eager much, stranger?”

“Stop calling me that,” Mando squeezed Vanth’s hips a little harder. ‘Stranger’ made it feel wrong.

The marshal laughed, ever amused. “Well, you won’t tell me-”

“Shut up, or I’ll leave.” He retorted, a little harsher than intended. “Just..”

Cobb smiled gently this time, his hands gently meeting Din’s on his sides, then nodded in understanding. “S’okay. Lemme show you what I can do.”

Leaning down, the marshal brought his face into the crook of Din’s neck, and the Mandalorian tilted his helmet away to allow excess. His breath hitched as he felt the kind lips sucking a spot on his throat. A deep groan left his chest as Cobb rotated his hips in place, grinding against Din’s lap.

Vanth tugged the collar of the other man’s shirt, kissing along his collarbone and licking sweet stripes anywhere he could reach. He tugged at the chest plate, back and forth, before sitting up and swiping his flopping hair out of his face.

“You gonna keep that dinner plate on or are we gonna man up about this?”

Mando rolled his eyes behind his visor, but couldn’t help his own small smirk. He unfastened the armour with a sigh, and gently cast it aside on the bed, then sat up to pull off his shirt, carefully, over the helmet.

Adjusting himself in the lap, Cobb wrapped his long legs around Mando’s waist. “Hot damn. Open the chest, and reveal the treasure within,” he joked, running his hands up and down Din’s front. “Nice tits.” He playfully squeezed a pectoral, and he wriggled, making the Mandalorian hard in his pants, faster than he would have liked to admit. Cobb could obviously feel him underneath, and gave a knowing smile, before pulling them close together, their bare chests touching each other.

Vanth had less chest hair than Din did, but it tickled a little nonetheless. The marshal kissed his bedmate’s shoulder, then bit it playfully, before whispering into his ear.

“Maker, you’re so hot,” he muttered, rolling his hips again. “Bet you’re strong, too.” He ran a hand up Mando’s bicep, stopping to squeeze the muscle there. “But you ain’t gotta do any heavy lifting tonight. Just relax. You’re wound up tighter than an ignition coil.” He rubbed Din’s shoulders, letting him know he was safe - they were safe, in this moment. Maybe Mando would never be able to let his guard down fully, but he would try, tonight. He also enjoyed that Vanth was implying there would be another night, where Din’s strength would be needed.

He looked down as Cobb fiddled with their pants, before reaching into the Mandalorian’s briefs to stroke him a few times. A sense of embarrassment fell over Din as he panted, feeling very warm under his helmet. It had been awhile since he was on the receiving end of intimacy, usually opting for showing others a good time, but Cobb had a sly look of determination that told him it wasn’t the marshal’s first rodeo when it came to taking charge.

The dry contact on his cock was a bit uncomfortable, but Din braced himself on Vanth as the marshal pulled it out from the confines of his pants, stroking a little harder now.

“Nice,” Cobb flashed his perfect teeth again.

“Shut up,” Mando inhaled sharply at a particularly painful tug of his skin, and Cobb pulled his hand away, his stupid grin still growing, ear to ear.

They sat in silence for a second, the room warm and their skin beginning to perspire. Suddenly, the silver haired man ran his hand up to Din’s collarbone, before touching his jaw beneath the helmet.

The Mandalorian tensed, used to the concern that his mask would be ripped away - it had almost happened far too many times recently, more than he could recall - but instead the marshal’s fingers found Din’s mouth.

“Suck,” he ordered, with a tint of that sheriff attitude he had seen with the townspeople earlier that evening. Not used to being submissive, Din hesitated, and when Cobb didn’t break eye contact, the bounty hunter obediently parted his lips and brought the digits onto his tongue.

They tasted rough and vaguely of alcohol, but his tongue swirled around them before releasing, feeling a bit of drool escape his lips.

“Well, at least you ain’t got fangs,” Cobb muttered with a laugh.

“I told you I’m-”

“Human, yeah,” the marshal’s wet fingers resting on Din’s jaw, “but you could say anything to ride one out.”

“You’re vulgar.” Mando didn’t say this with any particular venom, and he wasn’t sure why he had said it, considering he himself had spoken some pretty crass comments in moments of passion, but he found himself now wishing that Cobb would just shut up and get a move on.

The marshal didn’t reply but drew a wet stripe down Din’s chest with the saliva before capturing the dark haired man’s cock once more, this time slick for ease. “There, that’s better, innit?”

The Mandalorian did not justify this with spoken words but a tightening of his muscles in response to the pumping of Vanth’s hand and a quiet gasp, amplified through the helmet’s modulator.

“There’s a good boy,” the marshall encouraged, licking and biting his lip. “Maker, I wish I could see you under there, writhing - bet that mouth can do a lot.”

Shutupshutupshutup-

“I would love to feel your pretty lips wrapped around-”

“You could.” Mando interrupted. Fuck. Too late now. “You can. If you want.”

The hand stopped moving and Cobb shifted in his lap. “I thought..”

“If, uh,” the bounty hunter paused for a moment. This was so stupid. He felt stupid. Embarrassed, even. The last time he had done this it was a wild night full of handcuffs and blindfolds and rough play, but it had worked. It felt really against the creed, but technically it was a loophole. Cobb would never actually see him, and that was most of it, anyways. “If you wear something over your eyes. I can take it off.” He finished plainly. His heart was beating so hard against his ribcage. “Like, your..your scarf, or something.”

The marshal’s eyes widened a little and a cat like grin spread wildly across his face. “Whoohee!” He clapped his palms together loudly, like he hadn’t just been giving Din a handjob five seconds before. “You’re just full of surprises, stranger!” Cobb clambered off of Mando’s lap, rifling through the clothes they had tossed around, “I’d be happy as a bantha in Winter to, a minute now, to take you up on your - aha!” He pulled up the red garment triumphantly. “I didn’t peg you as the kinky sort, but then again, I haven't pegged you yet, have I?”

“Don’t make me take it back.” Din warned, pulling his pants down but keeping on his briefs, after having tucked himself back in. He stood to offer to help tie the scarf, but the marshal stepped back and held out a hand to stop.

“Wait a minute. Oh, yeah.” He looked at the Mandalorian, who was standing in nothing but underwear and his helmet, and he rubbed his chin and bit his lip with a smirk. “I’m just taking it in. Gotta give me something to think about if I’m going blind in a minute.”

Not feeling one way or the other about it, Din let him gawk for a minute, his arms sitting lamely at his sides for a minute before he sighed. “Are you done?”

“No rush,” Cobb laughed, but turned around nonetheless, offering the cloth over his head, and with nimble fingers, Din tied it tightly around the marshal’s eyes. The silver haired man turned slowly, his arms out like a bird to feel the space around him. “Mando?”

“Yeah. Can you see?”

“Nothin’. I swear.”

There was a comfortable quiet in the air, as Cobb relaxed and stood still, clearly waiting for a go ahead. At that prompt, Din reached up and carefully pulled his head free from the Beskar and knelt down to place it on the floor. He inhaled a deep breath of mildly fresh air, and ruffled his curls, knowing his helmet hair was probably terrible. At least Vanth wouldn’t see.

Cobb stood with a goofy grin, and only flinched slightly at the unexpected contact of the Mandalorian touching his hands. He ran his fingers up and down the marshal’s forearms twice before using the connection to bring the older man closer - and slowly brought their hands to hover above Din’s cheeks.

With a sharp inhale, Mando melted skin to skin, and gasped quietly at the sensation of Vath’s palms flush against his face. The feeling of having his head cradled in someone’s hands was unmatched - the marshal gently brushed his thumbs across his lips, then touched his nose (where underneath he was sporting a pretty decent moustache), ghosted over his eyelids, and ran his fingers through the bounty hunter’s hair, playfully tugging when he was done.

“ ‘Feel handsome,” Cobb whispered. “Ready to fuck now?”

“Shut up.” Mando growled low, roughly yanking open Cobb’s pants, to which he only got a snort of laughter.

“Whoa now,” he said, as if calming a taun taun. It was a hopeless cause, trying to get the man to be quiet for longer than five seconds.

Din switched their places, so the sheriff was closest to the bed, and eased him into a sitting position. The marshal warily held his hands hovering above the mattress, before relaxing and wiggling a little in the spot.

“The suspense is killin’ me,” he whispered, his eyeline upwards as he waited for Mando to make a move.

Din moved down onto his knees in front of the marshal, gently running his hands up and down his thighs. The silver haired man gasped in reaction, and moved quickly to take off his pants. Once they were thrown away, the bounty hunter gave a gentle kiss right beside the other man’s belly button, then another just below. With a gentle and soft movement, Din pulled the cock from Cobb’s underwear and gave it a firm tug.

“Ah-” Vanth grunted, his beautiful mouth hanging open, then found the Mandalorian’s hair with one hand. “Please..”

“Please what?” Din found himself taking his usual charge, which caused the marshal to giggle and grin.

“Slow down there, stranger, I thought I was the big man here.”

“Then act like it and tell me what you want.”

Cobb gripped Din’s hair tightly, earning a groan of surprise, but also arousal. “Take my cock in your pretty little mouth and suck like a good boy.”

Mando attempted to pull the grip from his curls away. “Don’t do that.” He growled.

“Like you don’t like it,” The marshal grinned, “stranger.”

Din wanted to slap him and his stupid goddamn smile- but he opted to not do anything drastic and instead took Cobb in his mouth, deep and fast, earning a second hand tangled in his hair. He gripped the man’s thighs hard as he bobbed his head up and down, taking in the marshal’s taste and girth.

“Pfassk-” Vanth moaned. “Oh, fuck..Maker-” His grip tightened in the Mandalorian’s hair.

Din hummed in reply, running his hands to the marshal’s waist and keeping him still while he worked his tongue around the head of the older man’s cock. He felt dirty and debauched to be on the marshal’s floor with his member in his mouth. Someone who he had only met a day ago, grasping at his body desperately under his lips. It was exhilarating if not madly loose of him.

Cobb’s gasps grew faster. “Kriff, kriff, kriff,” he used the hands in Din’s hair to move him away, and the bounty hunter stopped, with some drool escaping his lips. “Wait,” the marshal panted.

“What’s wrong?” Din rasped.

“I don’t want to finish yet. I’ve got a good time to show you as well, partner.”

The Mandalorian paused for a minute, letting the air return to his lungs, and gently smoothed his palms down Cobb’s thighs. “Sure. Where do you, uh,”

“On the bed. Come on now,” Vanth patted the mattress and stood, carefully, his lack of eyesight clearly a mild hindrance as he tumbled across the room to get something from a drawer. The bounty hunter laid back on the bed, and took off his underwear, now completely nude in the presence of the silver haired man, who was none the wiser. It felt fairly freeing, but Din knew it was a dangerous game. If he got too comfortable with the beskar off, he may never put it back on. That was a terrifying thought, because as much as he could pretend to deny it, it was something he could see happening if he did it too often.

This was interrupted as Cobb practically fell into the bed, bracing himself with his hands, with a small jar of what Din assumed was lube in his palm.

“I’m back. Did you miss me?” Cobb grinned in the direction he must have thought was the bounty hunter, but too far to the right and Din felt a wave of warmth run through him. Unfamiliar but kind.

The Mandalorian gently took Cobb’s cheek in his hand to turn his face in the right place. “Immensely.” He joked with a small smirk, and ran his thumb down the marshal’s cheekbone. There was a moment of comfortable silence, the two of them sharing the warmth together.

“Are you gonna kiss me?” Vanth leaned forward a little. “Or were you waiting for me to be the big man and tell you what I want?”

With that, the bounty hunter captured Cobb’s mouth with his own in a passionate kiss. The moment their lips touched, Din gasped and pressed harder, grabbing both sides of the Marshal’s head. Vanth returned the passion, with a hand in Mando’s hair (Din was beginning to think Cobb really liked his hair), and rubbing Mando’s back with the other.

They moved their tongues together, engaging in a long, hot embrace, before Cobb’s hand wandered down to discover Din’s nakedness.

“Oh, hello,” he purred. “Nice buns, stranger.” He squeezed a cheek much to the bounty hunter’s unamusement. “Really cheeked up back there. I love a good set of-”

“Shut up.” Din hissed, moving to nibble the marshal’s ear. “I thought you had something you were going to do.”

Cobb laughed. “Oh yes,” he was holding up the jar that had been set on the bed. “Time to oil up, stranger.”

Pushing Din down, Vanth settled on his knees between the Mandalorian’s legs after pulling off his own underwear, then spread some lube into his palm, lathering his cock in it, completely blind behind the red scarf. He kept grinning, excitement beaming off of him. The bounty hunter was on his back, propped by his elbows, and watching the display. Cobb’s confident movements and beautiful body, sprinkled with gray hair and tanned skin, was truly a sight to behold. Din felt a tad self conscious about himself, if just for a moment. Did he hold up to Vanth’s standards? Clearly he did to some extent, but their bodies were different in ways that the Mandalorian thought too hard about.

The marshal was lanky, though toned, with graying hair and smooth movements. He was tall with sharp cheekbones and a handsome smile. Din had never smiled in a mirror. He didn’t know what it looked like. He had once noted his nose curved in a way that made him think of a bird. Din’s body was thicker, and he was shorter. His wild curls often tickled his forehead under the helmet, and his facial hair was nowhere near as well kept as Cobb’s marvelous beard.

Din laughed quietly. How stupid. It was ridiculous to compare his own beauty to someone else’s - no one had seen him in over a decade and nobody ever would. These were the sorts of thoughts that would emerge when his armour was off. More reasons to get it over with quickly and into the comfort of his usual beskar shell. Underneath it, he paid no mind to things as petty as looks.

“Okay, relax. Lay back.” Cobb felt outward until he touched the bounty hunter’s chest. He then pushed the Mandalorian down onto his back, and hooked his leg over his shoulder. The marshal took a moment to get comfortable. “Do you need me to rev you up a little, stranger? Get a finger in there?”

“N-no,” Mando swallowed hard and looked at the ceiling. “No, just do it.”

“Alright, stranger. Goin’ in.”

“Din.” Dank ferrick. Fuck. Fuck. Stupid.

The marshal paused. He cocked his head, and turned his face downwards, as if he could see, and for a moment, Mando wondered if the sheriff had lied, and was staring at the man beneath him now.

“What’s that? ‘Din’?” Cobb was grasping the bounty hunter’s leg.

Din took a deep breath and sighed. “My name. Din. Please- not ‘stranger’.”

“Din. Din, Din. Huh.” Vanth smiled widely. He said it a few more times. “Thank you.” He whispered sincerely, and leaned down to kiss the Mandalorian, who quickly moved to meet his lips, or else he would have gotten a wet one to the eye.

The marshal’s blindness was rather amusing as he felt around him to move the jar out of harm’s way, before repositioning himself with a sturdy grip on the Mandalorian. “Alright, Din.” Another smile. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Din replied, and hissed through clamped teeth as he felt Vanth push into him eagerly. His fingers curled around the sheets harshly, and his back arched with the movement of Cobb burying himself deep inside. “Maker-” he gasped.

“Kriff, that’s good. Oh, yeah.” Vanth panted for a second, before pulling out almost all the way, then pushing back in. He did this twice more slowly before picking up speed. His thrusts were precise and confident, like the rest of his personality. His hands moved to either side of Din’s head, adjusting his body, and Mando moved his leg from the shoulder and wrapped his thighs around Cobb’s waist.

The new angle brought a wave of pleasure to crash over the bounty hunter’s body, he spread his arms out, arching and writing in arousal beneath the sheriff. “Fuck- Cobb-”

“Yeah? You like that?” The marshal panted with a wide smile, rolling his hips into Din. “You take it good.”

“Come on,” the Mandalorian grunted, wiggling his hips to encourage his bedmate to move faster. “Move.”

“Oh, kriff, yes,” Vanth withdrew and pushed back in, and began that quick pace again, pounding into the bounty hunter with such speed that the mattress groaned horribly beneath them. Din briefly thought of the kid, wishing he had brought the egg shaped carrier for him to sleep in, lessening the chances of him waking to the sound of the men in bed together. But he knew the child was a fairly heavy sleeper, which settled his mind a bit to allow him to focus on the situation at hand.

A deep warmth shuddered through the Mandalorian’s abdomen, and he moaned louder than intended, grasping at the sheets with renewed desperation. He wished then that he could meet the marshal’s eyes - those striking hazel eyes - but that was too much. He already had the blessing of a name, and Din couldn’t risk giving more than that.

Cobb picked up on the direness of Mando’s need and sat up, gripping Din’s hips with his sturdy hands, allowing the bounty hunter to arch his back, supported by his broad shoulders, and the marshal pushed a few deep thrusts in, grinning ear to ear.

“Come on, baby, come on,” Cobb purred as he went for it, pushing and rolling to get the most out of their new position. “You like that? Oh, you feel so good. Din. Come for me. Come for me.”

The Mandalorian panted and moaned, sweat and sex and heat filling the room, that wonderful tension pooling inside of him and he pushing himself as well as he could to meet the marshal’s perfect thrusting, and he shuddered and gasped as cum shot all over his own stomach, warm and more than eupphric as he rode out the high of his orgasm.

“Oh fuck, yes, Din, good boy,” Cobb kept pounding, quickly, hitting those sensitive spots until Din felt himself fill with warmth as the marshal came hard, shaking and groaning, before he collapsed on top of the bounty hunter was a quiet sigh.

They laid in silence, both panting and hot and sweaty, but together. Din found himself reaching for Cobb’s hair, gently running his hand through it. It was soft and fluffy, and his fingers were able to comb through it seamlessly. This brought a gentle smile to the bounty hunter’s lips.

In turn, Vanth made little circles with his fingers on Din’s chest, humming in satisfaction.

“That was good,” Cobb whispered, seemingly content with not moving. “Nice. Very nice. You’re not half bad.”

“Your thoughtful words are inspiring.”

They both chuckled, and Cobb adjusted himself, slipping himself out carefully, then settling back on the Mandalorian’s chest to continue their post-sex cuddle.

He liked to think of that. That they were cuddling. He couldn’t remember the last time he had let someone cuddle him. Certainly not any of his previous endeavours, though to be fair, he had never had sex on a bed with them, so there hadn’t been any chance for something so intimate. Din shifted his weight a little and sighed contently. He figured it must have been his mother or father who had last held him lovingly, but he tried not to dwell on that.

Now, Cobb, still with his scarf on (Din thought the world of that - the marshal was incredibly trustworthy), seemed to be close to sleep, so the bounty hunter gently nudged him.

“I should put something on. The kid might come in here when he wakes up,”

“Hmph.” Vanth huffed against the Mandalorian’s chest, before rolling over to release his bedmate. “Fine, but come right back.”

Din climbed off the bed and found his shorts and shirt, and after climbing into them, he picked the helmet off the floor and stared into the visor. The armour felt heavy in his hands, and the idea of placing it back on was less than appealing after a, dared he say it, fun evening. He glanced back at the mattress, where Cobb lay with his hands behind his head and everything on show, and Din smiled lightly.

A gentle kiss was placed on the marshal’s lips, and when he pulled the scarf from Cobb’s eyes, the bounty hunter had returned the beskar to its usual spot on his head. The sheriff blinked a few times in the dim light as he sat up, with Mando moving to let him past. Cobb slipped his underwear on before climbing back into bed, this time moving the blankets and crawling under.

An extended hand from the marshal was an invitation for the Mandalorian to join him back in the warmth of the bed, and without hesitation, Din joined him, tucking them into the sheets and settling down. The silver haired man wriggled next to Din, resting against his broad chest.

Still sticky with sweat and cum, it was only mildly uncomfortable not to shower immediately, but the bounty hunter knew there was always the morning. The next day would be wildly unpredictable and full of danger, but deep in his gut, the Mandalorian knew it would end well.

As if reading his thoughts, the marshal shifted slightly. “Nervous for tomorrow?”

“No,” Din answered honestly. “We’ll have what we need to defeat the dragon.” “I’m worried about those damn Tuskans.” Cobb huffed. “If something goes awry-”

“It won’t.” The bounty hunter assured. “They’re..a little rough around the edges, but they’ll keep their word and help. Don’t worry about it. Just rest now.”

“Alright,” Cobb laughed a little, rubbing his hand across the other man’s waist. “Din, the Mandalorian. Hell. You’re quite something. It’ll be an honour to take down that Krayt menace tomorrow by your side.”

“Same to you. Rest well, Marshal.”

“Goodnight, Din.”

Cobb drifted to sleep quite quickly after that, leaving Din with his arms wrapped around the marshal and his late night thoughts. He deeply inhaled, smelling the desert winds in Cobb’s hair. The cool evening breeze that drifted from the window was comforting, and the only noises to be heard were crickets, and the drifting of the thin curtain blowing quietly in the wind.

Din was at peace, on that evening, content to lay with a man he enjoyed the company of curled in his arms, and the child safely sleeping in the room next to them. The next day would bring adventure and battle, but now, Din was safe and happy, as he drifted into a deep sleep, in the sanctuary of the marshal’s home.

#Lavina's Fics #Lavinia's Fics: Stranger #dincobb #din djarin x cobb vanth #cobb vanth x din djarin #the mandalorian x cobb vanth #cobb vanth x the mandalorian #pedro pascal #timothy olyphant #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season two #chapter 9 the marshal #din djarin #cobb vanth

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moshymosh · 4 years ago

Text

Remember me: A Night To Remember (2)

When the love of your life suffers from a disease that affects their memory of their life with you, what do you do? Will you spend your last days with them, trying to get them to remember you? The life you had, or would you give up and let them forget you?

Summary- Dr. Spencer Reid felt his whole life change when Agent Y/n L/n joined the BAU. She came in like a cool summer breeze changing everything Spencer knew about love and his capacity to care for someone so much. Y/n came to the BAU with a tragic past, her only goal was to save lives and make the world a safer place for everyone. She meets a skinny shaggy haired doctor, which causes her whole life to change, much like Spencer, will she fall in love or will her tragic past or even her job prevent her?

Pairings- Dr. Spencer Reid x f!reader.

A/N- This is a notebook inspired story, this story will be told and wrote like a chapter book. So some of the endings will not always make sense. Also I don't claim go own Criminal Minds or the Notebook, this is solely for entertainment purposes and for enjoyment. Some of the lines are from the notebook movie, again I don't claim to own either fandom/tv show/ movie. I try to make Y/n as vague as possible so shes more inclusive so if there is any descriptive things that don’t apply to you feel free to ignore them. Also just putting this out there as the story progresses Maeve is still alive and well, she is a good friend of Spencer and Y/n’s. There will be graphic content and sexual scenes in later chapters, warnings will be added as they go. Also if you want to be tagged send me an as or comment here, also send requests I'm down for making little fics.

Here is the board I've been using for inspo here

PS- Please don't post my fics anywhere without my documented consent, thanks -Karma (MoshyMosh)

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Spencer looked at his reflection in the mirror of the fitting room as he adjusted the sleeves of the suit jacket he was trying on, he sighed and stepped out of the small room into the sight of his coworkers.

“Do I look ok?” he asked his friends nervously

“Lose the gray shirt, go for white.” Derek said, looking up from his phone to Spencer. “Garcia just sent me a picture of the tie they got you that matches Y/n’s dress.” Derek said as he passed his phone to Rossi, sitting beside him.

“Yeah, white will look best.” The Italian agent said, looking up from the picture on Derek’s phone. “JJ has your tie, Spencer. She said she will bring it by later today, or in the morning it seems.” he said with a chuckle as he handed Derek his phone back.

“Looks like they're breaking out the wine.” Derek said, chucking at the picture of Penelope holding up two bottles of wine in Y/n’s living room.

“Good Italian wine they're having too.” Rossi remarked, smirking.

Derek looked back up at Spencer, “get the tux but with a white shirt.” he told him.

Spencer turned around to look at his reflection again and nodded his head in acceptance of the suit before he turned and told the employee nearby what he wanted. When the employee went to look for his shirt, Spencer went back inside the fitting room to change back.

Spencer handed the suit he neatly hung back on the hanger to the employee and followed his friends up to the registers to pay for his items. As he let Derek drive him back to his apartment he began to think about Y/n and if she really liked him or only saw him as a friend and coworker. Spencer then wondered if she was having fun with the girls.

“Why are you so quiet pretty boy?” Derek asked as he glanced from the road to Spencer then back to the road.

“Just thinking.” Spencer said looking from the window to Derek.

“About Y/n?” Derek asked softly, looking over to see Spencer nodding his head as he looked out the window again. Derek looked back to the road before he spoke. “Don't overthink your feelings or hers, it won't end well if you do.”

Spencer and Derek sat in silence the rest of the way to Spencer's apartment, once Spencer began to climb out of the car Derek spoke again.

“Keep giving her those gifts, let it come naturally.” Derek said as he watched Spencer grab his tux from the back of the car. Spencer walking into his apartment building, heading for his home as he kept repeating what Derek told him in his mind.

Y/n giggled as she sipped on her wine before she grabbed the box Emily was holding out to her. “What’s this?” she asked in confusion.

“Just open it.” Penelope said as she applied a face mask, looking into Y/n’s makeup mirror she set in Y/n’s coffee table.

Y/n shook her head with a laugh before she set her wine glass down and began to open the lid to the box. She let out a small gasp when she saw the necklace Emily showed her in the shop. “Emily... You didn’t have to do this.”

“Consider it my welcome to the team gift, that is several months overdue.” Emily said as best she could with the drying face mask on her face.

“Thank you, so much.” Y/n said before their laughter was interrupted by Y/n’s buzzer going off. “That must be the food.” Y/n said as she got up to buzz the delivery guy in. Y/n paid and brought their food back to be passed out to the girls. The rest of the night the girls laughed and cried together, just spending some time being friends.

Y/n walked into the bullpen with a groan as she felt the bright lights of the room hit her eyes. She walked over to her desk and plopped down on her chair, dropping her bag from her shoulder to the floor beside the chair.

Y/n spotted the coffee cup in her desk and grinned, looking over to Spencer. “Spencie, you are truly a Godsend.” she said as she saw him walk over to her desk, she stood and gave him a hug causing him to stand stiff.

“Uh, thank you.” Spencer said once she let him go and grabbed the coffee he got for her. She took a sip and sighed happily after.

"What are you guys doing here?" Hotch asked, walking into the bullpen in plain clothes as he looked around at the team that was in the room.

"What do you mean Hotch?" Derek asked him in confusion.

"We have the day off, I'm only here because security called me." Hotch said with a chuckle.

Y/n scoffed and shook her head, her hand reaching up to hold her head. "You're telling me I could've been at home sleeping off the wine headache?" She asked sarcastically as she reached down to pick up her bag. "Though if I did know I wouldn't have gotten my daily dose of Spencer coffee." She said as she grinned at JJ after seeing Spencer scratch the back of his neck in nervousness.

"Guys go home we have a ball tomorrow." Hotch said with a laugh, walking with everyone to the elevator. When they all began to load up in the elevator Y/n and Spencer slid to the back, standing behind everyone Y/n quietly switched the hand she was holding her coffee cup in and hooked her pinkie finger with Spencer's once she freed up her hand.

Y/n looked up at Spencer to see him smile before she leaned her head on his shoulder as they rode like the rest of the way down, only separating when the doors open to the elevator and everyone began to step out.

"Guys, let's have lunch at my place." Rossi said looking at his team. "I'll cook and from my profile of SSA L/n you seem like quite the cook."

Y/n chuckled nervously and shrugged bashfully. "I dabble but I'm down for some famous David Rossi cooking."

"Dabble? Bish please I've seen your kitchen." Penelope said, her arm hooked with Derek's as they stood around in the garage. "You're like a regular old Rachel Ray."

"That settles it. We're doing it. Everyone go home, change into more comfortable clothes and meet at my house after." Rossi called out as he walked to his car, his finger raised as he gestured to the team behind him.

Y/n watched everyone walk to their cars and begin to leave, she watched Spencer begin to walk to the exit of the garage to take public transportation back to his apartment. "Spencer!" Y/n called out to him causing him to stop and turn back around to look at her. "Let me give you a ride?" She asked him, holding her keys up.

"Uh-uh- yeah sure." Spencer said walking back over to him. "You don't have to stop at my apartment, all my clothes are like this."

Y/n smiled and nodded her head in thought. "Ok, it won't take me long to change." Y/n said as she unlocked her car and began to walk around to the driver's side door. "Come on, join me in my trusty steed." Y/n joked with a chuckle as she slid into her seat. Spencer laughed at her joke and slid into her passenger seat.

Y/n started her car and began to pull out of her parking spot then out of the fluorescent-lit garage. She started driving to her apartment, Spencer would steal glances at her as they drove, the soft sounds of Y/n singing to whatever song was on the radio, every time he looked at her a small smile would grace his lips.

"We're almost there, take a picture when you can." Y/n said with a smile, as she turned into her assigned parking space in the parking lot of her apartment complex.

"I have an eidetic memory, I physically can not forget things." Spencer said as he watched as she climbed out of her car.

Y/n laughed and leaned down to look at the man who was still sitting in the passenger seat of her car. "You coming smarty pants?" She stood up straight as she shut her door, moving to lean her hip again the hood as she waited for Spencer to get out. Y/n pressed the lock button on her key fob after he climbed out and began to walk up to her building complex.

Spencer looked around at the complex. "This is a very secure place." He noted when he looked back to watch her scan her keycard to enter into the gate that surrounded the living complexes and courtyard.

Y/n held the gate open for him and nodded as they began to walk to the building her apartment was in. "Yeah, safest one I could find when I moved here." She said softly as unlocked her door and stepped in letting him in behind.

"Why this place?" Spencer asked as he looked around at the organized chaos in her apartment. The chaos he knew from his own living space. Y/n sighed as she set her keys and bag down on the kitchen counter, Spencer looked into the kitchen and noted in his mind what Penelope was saying was true about Y/n's culinary expertise.

"I'll tell you someday." She said gesturing to her living room. "Please make yourself comfortable, I'll just be a minute." Spencer walked further into the living room as he heard her footsteps receding down the hallway to what he assumed was her bedroom.

After she changed and gather her things they were back on the road. heading to Rossi's house for the lunch he offered. The whole team had a great time at the Italian agent's house. Rossi true to his word roped Y/n into cooking with him. The time spent at his house was spent in laughter and fun. Lunch turned into dinner with Y/n being the sole cook this time and soon they were all heading home.

Spencer laid in his bed thinking about what Y/n might look like at the ball. No matter what she wore she would still look beautiful in his eyes. The night faded into the early morning dawn of the day of the ball.

The girls decided to all go to Emily's apartment to get ready for the ball. They did each other's hair and helped with their makeup. Y/n smiled at the girls as they fussed with their dresses. She looked out the window and smiled again at the soled of the setting sun. she looked back down at the mirror in front of the window and continued applying her light red lip stain.

Y/n finished her lipstick and stood, walking over her dressed that was hanging on the back of the door. "JJ help me get into this?" She asked the girl in question who was the first one dressed. She stepped into the dress and pulled it up where it belonged before she turned to let the blonde zip her up. "Girls the guys will be here any minute." She stated as she gathered her stuff.

Right as Y/n said that the doorbell to Emily's apartment buzzed signaling the rest of the team's arrival, causing Penelope and Emily to squeal in surprise. She rolled her eyes and laughed at the pair before she followed her female coworkers to the door to meet the guys downstairs to ride to the venue together.

Spencer stood outside one of the SUVs they were using for the night, watching each one of his coworkers exit the building. Spencer let out a quiet gasp when he saw Y/n, her being the last one to walk out. His eyes raked over her frame taking in every detail, knowing that it will be in his memory forever.

Y/n smiled as she stood in front of him. "Oh, I almost forgot." She said softly before she pulled out a yellow red-tipped rose that she had made into a boutonniere. "I uh- I got this for you." she said shyly as she gestured to the item in her hands.

"Thank you." Spencer said as he stepped closer to her.

"May I?" She asked as she looked up at the agent through her mascara-coated lashes.

"Uh, Yes please." Spencer said, feeling her skirt brush again his legs as she stepped closer to him. His hands instantly went to her hips, not knowing it was to keep her steady or for him to hide the shakiness of his hands. He committed the way the silky tule felt under his fingertips to his memory. Y/n focused on putting the flower in the buttonhole of his suit jacket and pinning it in place.

Spencer looked down at her hands as she straightened the accessory on his jacket. He had to suppress the whine when she stepped away, looking back to her face as it held a small smile directed at him, a blush coating her cheeks.

"Let's go love birds." Derek said with a chuckled as he and their teammates watched them. Soon everyone was loaded into the two SUVs and began driving to the location of the FBI ball.

Y/n and Spencer sat in the back seat of one of the vehicles, Spencer looked over at Y/n and watched the lights of the city flash across her face. Spencer's eyes looked down to his hand that was resting on the seat between them, her pinky finger was hooked onto his pinky and ring fingers. He smiled at the gesture and almost pouted when she pulled away as they arrived at the location.

"Let me get the door." Spencer told her as he got out of the car and rushed around to open her door. He helped her out of the car and smiled at her after he shut the door behind her. Y/n looked around before she linked her arm with his, as they began to walk up the walkway to the entrance.

The evening was spent in fun, dancing, and laughing after the awards were passed out and announcements of changes being made in the bureau were made. Soon the music slowed and Spencer asked Y/n to dance. She looked up and smiled, taking the hand he offered. He lead her to the dance floor and began to dance to the slow tune playing.

"Spencie?" Y/n asked softly, looking up from his shoulder that she was resting her head upon.

"Hmm?" He hummed out as he rested his head against hers.

"Those roses? The ones you gifted me, the coloring means friendships and or falling in love. You obviously knew that you know everything, mister four PhDs." She joked causing Spencer to chuckle and sigh in contentment. "What is your meaning behind them?" She asked softly.

"Well, we're already friends..." Spencer said softly. "Is it bad I meant them to be I am falling in love with you?"

Y/n smiled into his neck before she began to whisper. 'The poems of the privacy of the night, and of men like me. This poem dropping shy and unseen that I always carry. And that all men carry.' Y/n took a breath and pulled back to look at him.

'Love thoughts, love juice, love-odor, love yielding, love-climbers, and the climbing sap.' She continued only stopping when he started speaking.

'Arms and hands of love, lips of love, phallic thumb of love, breasts of love, bellies pressed and glued together with love.' Spencer recited from memory.

'Earth of chase love, life that is only life after love.' She recited along with him. She stopped speaking thinking that they were going to stop, she let out a soft gasp when he continued.

'The body of my love, the body of the woman I love, the body of the man, the body of the earth.' Spencer finished, as he looked into her eyes deeply. "Spontaneous me. Walt Whitman." Spencer said as he smiled softly at her.

He began to lead Y/n to the open doors that lead out to a garden, as the song finished, the garden only held a handful of people that were talking and laughing softly amongst themselves. Y/n leaned against the railing of a small gazebo he brought her to.

"You read the book of poems I gave you." She stated softly with a smile.

"I've read it and re-read it several times." He said shyly, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "And that poem I've deduced is your favorite."

"Why do you think that?" She asked, tilting her head as she looked at him, her arms coming up to rub her bare shoulders.

Spencer watched her before he took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. "It was the fact the spine was worn and the edges of the pages were worn." He stated as he reached up to rub her arms in an effort to warm her up.

"Hey, love birds." Emily sing-songed, coming up to the pair, slightly tipsy. "Time to go or you'll be riding in a yellow chariot."

Spencer laughed and gestured for Y/n to lead the way, she smiled and began to follow the tipsy Emily to the SUVs. Y/n silently reached back for his hand, he saw this and reached for hers as well, smiling as she used one of her fingers to grip his. Spencer made a mental note to as her why she does this.

Spencer rode with her till she was dropped off at her apartment, even though it was in the opposite direction of his own. He walked her up to her door, making sure that she got home and inside safely before he let the driver take him back to his apartment. He saved the rose she gave him, much like she did with the ones he got her.

They both fell asleep in their beds, each of their thoughts thinking of the other as they drifted off.

#karmawrites #moshymosh's masterlist #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagine smut #mgg x reader #criminal minds smut #remember me #moshymosh writes #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x reader #mgg x y/n #reader insert #Karma's imagines

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