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rootedinrevisions · 3 months ago

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Since Forever

SUMMARY: After a harrowing near-death experience in the sky when a routine training exercise goes wrong, you and Jake are forced to confront the unspoken tension that's always simmered between you. With a crash landing and a moment that changes everything, the line between squadmates and something more begins to blur.

A/N: Thank you to the person who sent this request in! I'm sorry it's been like 3 weeks since you sent it in, but hopefully, it's worth the wait! Hope you enjoy it! xx

WARNINGS: Angst, Mutual Pining, Plane Crash (Smoke, Impact, Head Injury, Blood), Cussing

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell: Himself (RPF), Characters He's Played

Twisters: Tyler Owens, Boone, Scott, Javi

Top Gun: Maverick: Rooster, Hangman, Bob

Marvel/MCU: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

WWE/Wrestling: Cody Rhodes, Corey Graves, Damian Priest, Drew McIntyre, Finn Balor, Jimmy Uso, Jey Uso, Kevin Owens, L.A. Knight, Pat McAfee, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins (if there is someone you're thinking of from WWE and they aren't on the list feel free to ask! There are so many guys on the roster that these were the ones that came to mind.)

The dry California air carried the hum of activity on the tarmac, the heat shimmering in waves off the asphalt as you stood in your flight suit, clipboard in hand. The roar of jets echoed in the background, a familiar symphony you’d grown accustomed to over the years. North Island was as bustling as ever, a mix of old faces and new ones prepping for the upcoming training exercises.

You were focused on your pre-flight checks, meticulously going over every detail on your clipboard. Attention to detail had always been your strong suit, something that had earned you respect in the cockpit and plenty of snide comments from one particular squad mate.

“Still babysitting that clipboard, Ace?”

You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Jake “Hangman” Seresin’s voice was unmistakable—smooth, cocky, and always laced with that infuriating Texan drawl.

“Still babysitting your ego, Bagman?” you shot back without missing a beat, your eyes remaining on your checklist.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him saunter closer, his helmet tucked under one arm, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Jake had a way of walking that oozed confidence, like he owned every space he entered. It was both maddening and, if you were honest with yourself, slightly impressive.

“Touché,” he drawled, stopping a few feet away. “But seriously, Ace, you’ve been doing this long enough to know the damn thing’s not going to sprout wings and fly off without you.”

You finally glanced up, arching a brow at him. “Says the guy who spent fifteen minutes arguing with the crew chief yesterday about the ‘perfect’ alignment of his seat harness.”

“That’s called being thorough,” Jake replied, unfazed. “You should try it sometime.”

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention back to your jet. “Is there something you actually need, or are you just here to be a pain in my ass?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Can’t a guy check in on his favorite squad mate?”

“Favorite?” you echoed, snorting. “You must be losing your touch, Hangman. Last time I checked, I was the one gunning for top marks on this run.”

“That’s what makes you my favorite,” he said smoothly, his tone dropping just enough to make your stomach do a small, unwelcome flip.

You hated how he could do that—how he could make the simplest comment sound like it was loaded with a thousand unspoken things. It was part of the tension that had simmered between you two for years, a strange, undefined thing neither of you had ever acknowledged out loud.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable,” you replied, setting your clipboard down. “I’ve got a jet to fly, and you’ve got an ego to stroke somewhere else.”

Jake tilted his head, his green eyes glinting with amusement. “Careful, Ace. One of these days, that sharp tongue of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

You stepped closer, narrowing your eyes at him as you adjusted the strap on your helmet. “And one of these days, Seresin, you’re going to realize that not everyone is impressed by your southern charm.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a standoff, the air crackling with the kind of tension that was all too familiar between the two of you. Then Jake stepped back, a soft chuckle escaping him as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Fair enough,” he said, his grin still firmly in place. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He turned and started walking toward his jet, his gait as cocky as ever. You shook your head, exhaling slowly as you tried to refocus on the task at hand.

Damn him.

Even now, years after you’d first met, Jake Seresin still had the ability to get under your skin in a way no one else could. And despite the irritation bubbling in your chest, you couldn’t entirely shake the small, secret part of you that liked it.

* * * *

The sky was a perfect blue—no clouds, just an endless expanse stretching out in front of you. It was supposed to be a simple exercise, just another day in the air, but your instincts had been nagging at you all morning. Something felt off.

You were flying at full throttle, running through the mission parameters, your fingers lightly grazing the controls as you focused on the task at hand. In the distance, you could see Jake’s jet—smooth and precise, cutting through the air just like always. You kept your distance, the tension between you two still palpable, even miles above the earth.

Then, without warning, the engine sputtered.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, eyes flicking to the gauges. The warning lights blinked red, and your stomach dropped like a stone. The engine—your primary engine—locked up.

“Ace, you copy?” The crackling voice of your Captain came through your comms, sharp and urgent. “What’s your status?”

You took a steadying breath, trying to keep your pulse under control. The jet was starting to lose altitude, slowly at first, but it wasn’t going to be slow for long.

“Engine’s locked,” you said, voice tight. You glanced down at your instruments again, hoping for a miracle. “I’m losing power. Going down.”

Jake’s voice exploded through your earpiece. “Don’t do anything stupid, Ace. You hear me? Eject if you have to!”

The words felt like a slap in the face. He was always the first one to play the hero, always telling you what to do like you were some rookie.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Seresin,” you snapped, teeth gritting as you struggled to maintain control. You banked hard to the left, trying to level out, but the jet was sluggish—too sluggish. It was dropping faster now, and the ground was coming up at you way too quickly. “I’m not ejecting.”

“I said—” Jake’s voice broke through again, but you could already hear the Captain cutting him off.

“Ace, listen to me. You have two options right now,” the Captain said, his tone firm, no room for negotiation. “Eject, or try to bring her in. But you don’t have much altitude left.”

You had a split second to make a choice. The sky was shrinking, the earth creeping closer with every heartbeat. Your mind raced—ejecting would be easy, sure. But it would cost you the plane, and it would mean another mission down the drain. And there was always that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you had to rely on someone else to pull you from the wreckage.

You focused, blocking out the voices in your comms, focusing on the controls, on what you could do.

You had one good engine. It wasn’t ideal, but you had just enough altitude to make a hard landing. If you timed it right.

“I’m landing this bird,” you said, your voice steely with determination. You could feel the sweat building under your helmet, your pulse pounding in your ears, but your hands were steady. “I’ve got this.”

“Ace!” Jake’s voice came again, a mix of frustration and panic threading through his words. “You don’t have the altitude—”

“Shut up, Seresin,” you cut him off, your jaw clenched as you took a deep breath. The ground was closing in fast now, the harsh reality of the situation crashing over you. You had seconds to decide how you were going to do this. You could almost hear your heartbeat in your throat as you worked the throttle, pushing the remaining engine to its limits.

“Ace, eject now!” Jake was practically shouting now, but you didn’t have the time to argue. You were already lining up the rough terrain, calculating the risks in your head. You’d done it before—this was just another challenge to overcome. “If you crash—”

“I said I’ve got this!” you growled, pushing the throttle forward and making a last-ditch effort to pull the jet back into some semblance of control.

The sound of the engine was sickening now, almost wheezing, but it was still holding on. You could feel the nose of the plane dip, and you knew it was time. There was no turning back now.

You aimed for the small strip of flat ground, mentally calculating the distance between you and the crash site, praying to every deity that you could pull this off.

The jet dropped faster.

Your stomach lurched.

You could hear the voices of your team—your Captain—fading in the background, their instructions turning into static. All you could hear now was the roar of the engine, your breath, and the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

And then the wheels hit the earth. It was harder than you expected. The jet groaned under the strain, the fuselage screeching as you fought for control. The wheels bounced once, twice, and the jet jerked to the side as you fought the controls with everything you had left. The impact was brutal. You slammed into the seat, the world going black for a split second before your mind jolted back into reality.

Your head throbbed, a sharp pain searing behind your eyes. You blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but everything felt off. Dizzy. The pain was sharp, but you couldn’t focus on it now.

Your hands still gripped the controls like you were trying to hold the whole world together. You could feel the tension in your neck, the tremor in your hands.

And then, the voice you hadn’t realized you were waiting for came through your comms, strained and desperate:

“Ace, talk to me. Are you okay?”

You were silent for a moment, trying to find your bearings. The crash had knocked the wind out of you, but you had to focus. You had to focus.

“I’m... fine,” you gritted out. Your vision was blurry, your head swimming, but you needed to keep it together. “I just need to—”

The world went black for a few moments. The crash had been rough, everything moving too fast, and then you were suddenly weightless, disoriented, and struggling to remember how you had even ended up in this situation. The impact had jarred you, rattling your body so hard you weren’t sure which way was up. The cockpit was filled with smoke, the once-pristine view of the sky now replaced by the harsh, metallic scent of burning fuel.

You could hear the sounds of the control tower in your headset, distant voices now muffled and indistinct. Your head throbbed, dizziness clouding your thoughts. Something was wrong—you were wrong—but the panic started to subside as your mind tried to latch onto something, anything familiar.

The sound of a plane's engines revving pierced the air, and that was when you realized you weren’t alone anymore. Jake's voice cut through the haze.

"Stay with me, Ace, I’m almost there" he barked, his tone uncharacteristically sharp, the usual cocky bravado gone. His voice was full of urgency, tight with a level of fear you hadn’t expected to hear.

You managed to open your eyes, the world around you spinning, but through the haze, you saw his plane descending in the distance—he was landing, landing without permission. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing he was disregarding protocol to get to you.

Within seconds, Jake's jet was on the ground, its wheels screeching as it touched down, and he was already sprinting toward you. There was no waiting for rescue teams, no giving orders. It was just him, and you.

Your chest was tight, your breath shallow, and for a brief moment, you wondered if it was all just a nightmare. Then, through the haze of your spinning mind, Jake’s face appeared—his eyes wide, his expression frantic as he reached the wreckage.

Without hesitation, he pulled open the hatch, the cockpit door groaning under the force. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t waste a second. He carefully pulled your helmet off of you. His eyes moving to the blood that was caused from the impact. His hands then started working to undo your harness, fingers shaking as he snapped the straps free, pulling you into his arms before you could even comprehend what was happening.

His breath was frantic, like he was holding it in, waiting for some kind of confirmation that you were really there. That you were still alive. And in that moment, as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, the world started to stabilize. Your breath came in shaky gasps, your head pounding as the dizziness slowly began to fade.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from your brain. The weight of your body felt heavier than normal, your limbs still stiff from the crash. But it wasn’t just your body that felt like it was slowing down—it was your mind. Everything was racing too fast, the adrenaline still pushing you into action, but in Jake’s arms, there was a moment of stillness. A second where nothing mattered but the fact that you were safe.

"Don’t you ever do that again," Jake muttered, his voice trembling despite the tough exterior he always wore. His words hit you harder than any of the physical pain, and you felt a strange, overwhelming wave of emotion rush through you. It was as though all the walls you’d both built over the years had crumbled with one unspoken truth. Jake was scared, and in this moment, it wasn’t about flying, or missions, or protocols. It was about you.

You barely registered that you were leaning into him, your chest falling against his as you came back to yourself, your body reacting without thinking, your mind still spinning. His hands were gently running over your back, soothing you, grounding you, even though you could feel the anxiety still vibrating through him.

“J-Jake,” you stuttered.

"I'm here. I’ve got you." His words were a soft mantra, repeated over and over as if he needed to hear them as much as you did.

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog.

“I... I’m fine,” you said, your voice shaky as you pulled away slightly, lifting your head from his chest. But the moment you tried to step back, you felt his arms tighten, keeping you close. The intensity in his gaze was enough to make you stop moving entirely.

“No, you’re not fine,” he shot back, his voice low but full of conviction. His hands still rested on your back, holding you steady, like he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. He wasn’t just holding you. He was holding you like he was terrified of losing you. “You scared the hell out of me, Ace.”

You swallowed, feeling a weight in your chest you hadn’t been prepared for. The vulnerability in his words was jarring. He had never let his guard down like this before. But there it was—raw, unfiltered concern.

The words stuck in your throat, but somehow you found yourself meeting his gaze, feeling the space between you two close, the tension palpable.

"Since when did you ever care about me like that?" The question slipped out before you could stop it, more of a breathless thought than anything.

Jake froze, his hand still on your arm as he stared at you, his jaw tight, eyes searching yours. For a moment, the world felt suspended in that one breath between you two. He didn’t back away. Instead, his face softened, his expression caught between frustration and something deeper, something he wasn’t saying.

“Since fucking forever, you idiot,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion, almost a growl.

Jake stepped closer, his hand slipping from your arm to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the skin there in a rare, intimate gesture. The contact sent a jolt through you, and suddenly, nothing about this situation felt like just another close call. This felt like something else entirely. Something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“I thought I was gonna lose you today,” Jake murmured, his voice low, steady now but still thick with emotion. His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I can’t lose you, Ace. I don’t think I’d make it.”

The weight of his words landed heavily in your chest. The truth between you two was finally out, raw and real. You swallowed, trying to hold back the lump in your throat.

“I’m not going anywhere, Jake,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Not without you.”

Jake sighed and then asked you again, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice softer now. You still felt the ache in your head, the sharp sting in your chest, but it wasn’t nearly as important as the way Jake was looking at you now.

His hands slid down your back, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. You could see his jaw clench, the words stuck somewhere between his teeth, and then he shook his head.

“Are you? You sure as hell didn’t look fine in that damn cockpit,” he muttered, his voice low and tight. “You could’ve—You’re the closest thing I’ve got to family out here, Ace," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I don’t know what I’d do without you." His words were a stark contrast to the cocky bravado he usually carried. This was real, and it was raw. "You don’t get to put me through that again, got it?"

You swallowed hard, your heart beating so fast it felt like it might explode in your chest. All the tension, all the unspoken things that had hung between you two for years, were now laid bare in the open. There was no hiding anymore. No pretending like you didn’t feel it, too.

“Jake…” you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, you pulled him down into a kiss—soft at first, tentative, but it was as if something broke open between you. You felt the fear, the relief, the longing all tangled up in that moment. His lips moved against yours, a little desperate, a little shaky, but it was real.

When you pulled away, you were both breathing heavy, eyes still locked, both of you trying to process what had just happened.

“I don’t know what this is, Jake,” you whispered, your voice trembling just slightly.

“I don’t either,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair as if trying to pull himself together.

The words hung between you two, thick with meaning. You didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe you didn’t need to figure it out all at once.

You both stayed there, in the middle of the wreckage, still alive, still here—and for the first time in a long time, that was enough.

But then, all too soon, reality crashes back in.

A voice from outside the cockpit, sharp and professional, cuts through the intimacy of the moment like a splash of cold water.

“Hangman! Ace!” The search and rescue team has arrived, and the urgency in their voice snaps Jake out of his daze. “We need to get them out of there, now. Base is requesting immediate transport.”

Jake pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to steady himself. His hand still lingers on your waist, the warmth of it grounding you, but his eyes betray a hesitation—reluctance to let go of the moment.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here, Ace,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself as much as to you.

You nod, feeling your heart hammering again, but for a different reason now. His gaze softens, and there’s a flash of something unspoken between you—a promise, maybe. You can’t quite find the words for it, but you feel it deep in your bones.

The medics are waiting outside, and with one final, reluctant glance at you, Jake starts to lift you away from the cockpit. With his steady presence, and one arm around your waist, he helps you out of the cockpit.

“Easy now,” he murmurs as he guides you down, keeping you close to his chest as if he can’t bear to let you out of his arms just yet. “Take it slow.”

As soon as your feet touch the ground, the search and rescue team rushes to assist you, but Jake doesn't let go immediately. His fingers linger on your arm, his gaze flicking between you and the team as if he’s weighing something—like he’s not quite ready to leave you in someone else’s hands. He hesitates, looking like he wants to say something, but the team is already ushering you toward the waiting helicopter.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, voice firm.

“Jake, you don’t have to—” you start, but he interrupts, his tone brokering no argument.

“No. I’m staying with you.”

The hum of the helicopter’s blades is loud against your ears, but everything else seems muffled as you lie back on the stretcher, still reeling from the crash and the kiss that’s left a strange warmth in your chest. The medics are busy around you, but you can barely focus on them, your mind still racing, spinning from the events of the last few minutes.

The moment Jake climbs in beside you, his presence fills the space. He doesn't hesitate, sitting down next to your stretcher and taking your hand immediately, his fingers curling around yours like it's the only thing tethering him to reality. His face is tight with worry, but the way he holds your hand gives you a strange sense of comfort, something steady amidst the chaos.

The medics move quickly, checking your vitals and assessing your condition, but you can barely register it, your heart still thumping in your chest as the adrenaline from the crash ebbs away, leaving you exhausted. One of the medics starts to remove your flight suit, carefully peeling it off your shoulders to get a better look at any possible injuries, leaving you in nothing but a thin tank top that clings to your skin.

You feel exposed, vulnerable, as the cool air brushes against your skin. It’s an unsettling feeling, but Jake’s hand is still in yours, and when the medic starts to prod at your ribs, you squeeze his hand instinctively, a shiver running down your spine.

“Hey,” Jake murmurs, his voice low and soothing as he leans in closer, his gaze never leaving you. “Focus on me, okay? Look at me.”

His voice is calm, reassuring, and even though you're still reeling, his presence is grounding you, pulling you out of the haze of discomfort and medical poking. His thumb rubs small circles over the back of your hand as the medic continues his examination, but Jake doesn't flinch. He doesn't pull away.

“Just look at me,,” Jake repeats, his voice steady. “You’re fine. I’m here.”

You manage to meet his eyes, and the intensity of his gaze sends a strange warmth flooding through you, cutting through the nervousness. In this moment, it’s just you and him, as if the rest of the world has faded away. You want to say something—tell him that you're okay, that you don’t need all this attention—but the words get lost in your throat.

Instead, you hold onto him tighter, needing him to keep you tethered, to keep you from feeling so exposed and raw.

The medic moves on to checking your head, and you wince at the touch, the sting of pain making you flinch. Jake immediately leans forward, his hand tightening around yours as he shifts closer.

“Easy, Ace,” he murmurs. “You’re okay. Focus on me. That’s it.”

You nod, trying to focus on his words, trying to push the discomfort and the questions swirling in your mind to the back of your head. His presence is like a lifeline. His voice is the one thing that makes you feel like you’re not alone in this. Like you're not just another casualty.

“Once they’re done poking and prodding, we’re going to get you something strong to drink,” Jake says softly, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half-smile as his thumb brushes against your hand once more. “And I’m not talking about water. I’m thinking something a little more... celebratory.”

A part of you wants to laugh, but you're too exhausted, too wired from the whole experience. Still, there's a glimmer of something in Jake’s eyes now, something more than just the mission or the tension between you. There’s something new in his gaze, like a shift, and you feel it too—this unspoken understanding between you both that things are different now.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?" you murmur, your voice hoarse from the adrenaline. "One minute, you're flying like a maniac, and the next, you're talking about taking me out for a drink like it's a... date."

Jake’s grin widens slightly, the kind of smile that only happens when he’s completely unguarded. “I’m thinking it’s more than a date, Ace,” he replies, squeezing your hand again. “Maybe it’s a... celebration. You know, to celebrate you not getting yourself killed.”

His tone is playful, but there’s something real behind it, a tenderness that wasn’t there before. Something that’s been waiting to come to the surface for a long time.

The helicopter ride drags on as the medics continue their work, but Jake stays by your side the entire time, never letting go of your hand, his steady presence like a quiet promise that he’s not going anywhere. His words from earlier echo in your mind, and you realize that, for the first time, you don’t feel alone. Not with him here. Not after everything you’ve been through.

When you finally land back at base, you’re still a little shaky, but the thought of what Jake said—of what he hinted at—keeps you grounded, keeps you looking forward to what comes next, whatever that is.

#Top Gun Hangman #Top Gun Hangman Fanfiction #Top Gun Hangman Fanfic #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Jake Seresin Fanfic #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Hangman x reader

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elliespuns · 2 months ago

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Joel Miller's House

and the little details that melt my heart (make me squirm)

I truly adore Joel's cozy porch. It has the perfect ambiance for him to relax and spend quality time with Sarah on warm summer days or quiet evenings. The presence of the water kettle on the table suggests that his porch is a frequent gathering place. Noticing the pumpkins already arranged, despite the fact that the outbreak occurred on September 26th, I feel like someone might have been a bit too eager for Halloween festivities.

Who would have guessed that Joel has always been ready to rock formal Oxford shoes? Young man Joel in a dark suit, tie, and Oxfords? Fuck, I need to breathe.

I thought I was going to shriek in surprise when my eyes landed on the weathered cowboy hat perched on the wall hook. It was such a striking (sexy) contrast to the construction helmet and simple baseball cap. The mere thought of Joel donning a casual baseball hat makes me go bananas. What do they say again? "Save a horse..."

This photograph of Joel and Sarah sitting upon the table, beside Joel's spot on the couch, has forever graced my heart. This tender image speaks volumes of the pure, affectionate bond they shared. Plus, the humble bowl of peanuts resting nearby suggests that Joel probably liked these simple snacks during movie nights together.

When I realize that Joel's true intentions were to launch his own business, reading up on critical matters like "buying a contract" and "everything you need to know to create a startup", it makes me want to cry. The poor man had been working tirelessly, pouring his heart and soul into every endeavor, driven by a burning desire to one day give Sarah the life she deserved. He was doing everything within his power, leaving no stone unturned, but fate had other plans.

The precious photo of baby Joel and his father sharing a fishing trip together unleashes a flood of emotions for me every time. The faded snapshot, forever frozen in time, clearly held a special place in our man's heart, since he kept it enshrined in a frame, with a candle next to it—a tender tribute to the loving dad he lost.

The man was utterly engrossed in the plans for his new project that he was planning in silence. Now let's talk about the old framed photo on his bedside table showing his parents dancing together. It just makes my day. I'm not even going to comment on the napkins sitting there so innocently.

This framed wedding photo of a young couple sitting on the bookshelf in Joel's study has been living in my mind rent free. While the groom looks nothing like Joel, I am certain that this couple is neither his parents (Joel has other photos of them in the house) nor his brother. The question is; who are these people? What connection could they possibly have to Joel? It seems too intimate, too personal, to have a picture of any random couple in such a private sanctum as his study. Could it be that Joel bleached his hair in his youth? After all, that was a common trend in the 90s. I'm scared to even speak this aloud, folks, but what if there's a possibility this couple could actually be a younger Joel and his wife? But then again, Sarah is blond, and this woman is not! (give me reasons to think I'm mistaken in the comments because I'm going crazy over here).

Joel's ardent love for music was evident throughout his home, with a sprawling collection of CDs adorning every room. However, it was the prominent display of CDs by Axel Diggs that stood out above the rest. Probably Joel's favorite musician.

The sunglasses lying on the table by the front door give me butterflies. Joel in sunglasses? It's a crime nobody has ever given us a single photo of Joel Miller in sunglasses. Oh, and the lottery tickets scattered around? Apparently, there's a gambler lurking within the man I thought I knew so well.

As an added treat, I mustn't leave out these two absolutely precious photos that appear to show Joel's parents back in their youth. What a touching gesture by this man to have kept these on proud display all these years. My heart just swells with affection for him seeing this.

#elliespuns mods #the last of us #tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #sarah miller #joel and sarah #tommy miller #the last of us game #the last of us part 1 #joel's house

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 4 months ago

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900 followers event. Congratulations!! ❤️You deserve all the love! Your writing is so wonderful, I love seeing you update! ♥️

Please take a break when you need it! 💕

"You have to catch me, okay?!"

Rooftop Shenanigans

Hi, nonnie! Thank you so much!! 🥰💙 This is about 500 words because I really have no self-control when it comes to Jason Todd

You are never letting Jason Todd talk you into anything ever again. I mean, what kind of person suggests traveling across Gothams rooftops for fun?

Sure, you're well aware of his whole Red Hood thing. But you? You are not a vigilante. But he was so convincing! And yeah, you were a little curious about what his nights looked like.

So, if you had agreed to take a glimpse into his world, you don't think anyone could blame you for that.

It had been exciting, at first, using the grappling hook to lift yourself to higher ledges, to jump from roof to roof. But now? The vertigo settled into your body tells another story.

He'd made a, frankly, ridiculous jump down to a fire escape, and you knew there was absolutely no way you could make it.

"I'm not doing it Ja– Red Hood. You have to come get me," you protest, stuck by your own fears at the edge of the roof.

"You can make it, sweetheart, C'mon. I'm right here. You know I wouldn't let you get hurt," he soothes, trying to persuade you into jumping.

You shake your head venomously, "Absolutely not. It's not you I don't trust, it's just that– I won't make it. I know I won't make it."

He tilts his head at you and lifts his arms, voice going low and coaxing, "C'mere."

Your heart skips a beat, and you waver, biting at your cheek anxiously, "You have to catch me, okay?"

"I will," he says, steady and unyielding, even in the face of your uncertainty.

You suck in a breath, steel your nerves, and squeeze your eyes shut. And then you jump.

It's a rush, the wind whipping past your skin, your adrenaline spiking, the slight fear that you might really, actually fall.

It's fast. It feels like your feet have only just left the ground before Jason has you in his arms, holding you securely by your waist against his chest. The air leaves your lungs in a relieved sigh, and you don't hesitate to tuck your head into the crook of his neck.

He laughs a little, giving you a light squeeze before carefully setting you to your feet, but neither of you seem ready to let go. "That wasn't so bad, right, sweetheart?"

You huff, only a little disappointed he set you down so quickly, "That. Was. Terrifying. Not all of us are vigilantes, ya know."

He laughs again, pulling back to see your face as his hands find your waist, "You'd be good at it."

You don't fight the smile that creeps on your face, pleased at his praise, "You think so?"

He nods, and he sounds smug as he taps your waist, pulling away to make his way across the fire escape, "I know so. That was a pretty big jump you made. On your first try, too."

The shriek that you make behind him only makes him laugh harder, and you grin wildly when he barely dodges the well aimed grappling hook you threw at his helmet.

It leaves you both in breathless giggles, when in return, he charges back towards you to lift you into a dizzying spin.

You decide then and there that spending nights roaming rooftops isn't so bad after all.

#raes 900 follower event #jason todd x reader

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petermorwood · 7 months ago

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Interesting post about costume here.

This paragraph in particular caught my attention...

What we think of as “peasant garb” is actually the product of a game of telephone that travels back from Romantic Revival art, and many of those (urban) artists got their idea of what rural peasants wore from opera costumes. The costumers working at the opera were not going out to the country side to take notes on what farmers actually wore, nor did they want to. Opera is show biz, you want it to be evocative, but not ordinary. Their costumes would have been based on what urban folks were wearing, with extra little touches like a shepherds crook to make it look “rural”.

... because it was Wagner's Ring Cycle that gave us horned helmets.

They didn't originate with the Vikings. They originated with the 1876 costume designs for a bunch of operas, and those designs by Carl Emil Doepler still exist.

For reference, all the horny characters are mortals.

Those helmets were probably based on archaeological finds, even though all Northern European examples are, AFAIK and depending on context, either religious headgear equivalent to a bishop's mitre, or ceremonial headgear equivalent to a crown.

In addition, every single one predates the Viking Age by a period ranging from a couple of centuries to a couple of millennia so - makes vague handwave gesture - they're more appropriate for the sorta-kinda mythic Migration Era setting of the Ring than any Vik who ever inged..

Doepler's designs also feature WINGED helmets, worn by immortals like Wotan...

... and the Valkyries.

Something else I encountered when looking for pics to illustrate this was that other clichéd armour error, the boob-plate.

Here's dramatic soprano Karin Branzell wearing one...

...while here's heroic tenor Fritz Vogelstrom also wearing one.

He's singing the role of Siegfried but wearing the costume of Brunnhilde, at least that's how it looks to an operatic Philistine like me.

Anyway...

Winged helmets are even more historically dodgy - no archaeological evidence at all - yet are actually more feasible as working combat helmets.

The difference is that horns, being heavy, need sturdy mountings so a horned helmet both provides catch-points for incoming blows and handles for an enemy to grapple, while a winged helmet does neither. The wings, being light, wouldn't need solid fixtures so would just shear off under a weapon or come off in an enemy's hands.

I'm well aware that other times, places and cultures - Indo-Persia, Poland, Japan etc. - had helmets with wings, horns and all sorts of other stuff, but this is about how the popular image of Vikings that headgear came from opera.

And went all over the place... :->

#arms and armour #Viking helmets #horned helmets #winged helmets #not Viking but Wagner

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slimybeth69 · 26 days ago

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Touch: Part 8

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Series Summary: The Mandalorian is quite interested in what you've been doodling. What happens when he finds out?

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Summary: Tatooine is nice, Grogu... not so much.

CW: me making things up about a ship that I have no reason to even think about, smut: mutual mast (whaaat? again???) unprotected P in V, creampies.

a/n: this chapter was heavily Rough Day inspired as is the whole story, but one part from Rough Day stuck with more than the rest-- you'll see. love you @no-droids, miss you.

“This is your hyperspace map.” Din points to one screen on the left side of the ship's cockpit dashboard.

You’re sitting in the Captain's chair with Grogu in your lap.

“Both of you, pay attention.” Din snaps his gloved fingers in the child's face. Granted, Grogu had been looking around in awe of all the screens and buttons and things that neither of you had been allowed to touch until right now.

Grogu faces forward and you give him a comforting squeeze.

"You can determine your range by looking at your fuel gauge.” Din turns his helmet in your direction to make sure you’re paying attention.

You nod in understanding. “Determine your range by checking the fuel gauge. Got it," you imitate Din's rasp with a smirk.

He shakes his helmet from side to side and turns to look down at Grogu, who is looking at a different screen right next to the fuel gauge.

Din points to that one now and as he does, it starts blinking red and the alarms start going off in the ship again. Not as loud in here though. The Captain needs to think clearly.

“This is your enemy proximity warning indicator...” Din sighs softly. “Okay, get outta the chair. We got pirates. Go somewhere you can hold onto something, or strap in-” he motions to the chair beside him in the cockpit.

That is terrifying-- being where the action goes down inside the ship!? No, thank you.

The comlink in the cockpit kicks on and a voice begins speaking to Din.

“You cannot just run away after cuttin’ down four of my brothers in cold blood, Mandalorian.”

The voice rings out through the ship and makes you flinch. You look down at Din as you stand in the doorway of the cockpit. This unlike anything you’ve ever dealt with before.

Din kept you packed away safely on the Crest-- far away from whatever this was.

Pirates. Cutting down in cold blood.

The man continues to speak as dreadful thoughts of what could happen to you and Grogu floats through your head.

Din is always safe, never has failed to come home but you’re barely a Jedi. You’re realizing that now when you get scared or overwhelmed. You might be able to fight but being a Jedi takes way more time than two years.

“Gorian Shard should stick to hijacking and ransoming."

The ship suddenly jolts, and is now speeding much more quickly than before. It makes you stumble back several steps but you grab onto a doorway and hold on tight as Din weaves in and out of asteroids.

Maker--this is not what you thought Din did out here in the galaxy. Getting chased by pirates!? He was supposed to be a bounty hunter, that’s what he told you when he hired you.

This doesn’t really look or feel like hunting. It feels like being hunted–that’s what it feels like.

It’s all okay. You’re gonna be fine! Din won't let anything bad happen to you, ever. Not now!

“I’m actually going to need you to strap in. Hold on to Grogu.” Din’s voice is strained as it calls back to you from the captains chair.

You struggle to make your way back up to him, but you manage to get yourself into the co-pilot seat and strap in. “Please hold on. Pay attention too; free lesson.”

For what?!

This isn’t what you signed up for when you agreed to let him teach you how to fly the new ship. No, you thought you’d have fun in the seat he’s in- maybe take off, land the ship sometimes. Not this! This is all getting a little too real now.

The wound on Din’s leg was the start of it two years ago- when you nursed him back to health. Now he wants to you fly this damn ship sometimes, and be chased by pirates or whatever else was out there waiting for him. Now you too! And Grogu! Three more enemies start approaching from the front of the ship, not from the rear where the other three were coming from.

“Din…” You point to the screen and show him what you’re seeing.

“Three more?” He sounds confused as he turns the ship in the opposite direction. “Where did they come from?” You don’t know, you don’t care, you just want him to get you all out of here safely. You wince and hold Grogu tightly to your chest and try to cover his eyes. “No. Don’t . Let him see, he’ll be a Mandalorian one day.” You sigh and take your hands away from the child’s face so he can see all the asteroids and other ships that are shooting at you fly past.

“This just-fuck!– sorry,” you look over at Din apologetically, but he almost just hit an asteroid! You’re expected to not swear? “This is just a lot…for a child. What if he has nightmares?” You ask, your free hand now holding on to the wall on your side. You go to push for brakes that aren’t there on the floor and your whole body is stretched out in the chair beside Din as he heads straight for another asteroid. “Din. Din. Din. Din. Din.”

He’s going to fucking kill you, but at the last second he pulls up and you think you can feel the ship ding it–just scrape right along the tip-top of the giant floating boulder in space.

“Oops,” Din rasps from behind his modulator as you glare at him. “Just a scratch.”

You roll your eyes and hear an explosion behind you. Don’t wanna know. You guys keep doing this until you run around the biggest asteroid you’ve personally ever seen. There’s a giant ship hidden behind it.

“Lemme guess…umm… Gorgan–no…Gorian Shard!” You say excitedly, pointing out the window. “That’s Gorian Shard’s ship, isn’t it?” You smile very pleased with yourself for listening so well. You look over at Din after taking in the sheer size of the destroyer in front of you–

Oh shit... A destroyer?

You watch in horror as all the guns drop down from the bottom, and then the giant ships blasters on top point right in your direction. Your smile drops. "Uh-oh."

“They’ve got a target lock on us. Be quiet.” Din rasps softly. The coms click on again and you hear a new voice in the ship now.

“Stop where you are, Mandalorian.” This new voice calls out.

It’s Gorian Shard. You know it is.

“You’re outgunned.”

Outgunned?

You had just woken up, sore as all hell from your activities the night before–walking around like you just spent two days on a blurrg nonstop- when Din says let's look at the cockpit. Let’s play pilots. Now you’re being outgunned. Wonderful.

“I have no quarrel with you,” Din says calmly into the coms.

You think back for a moment, and are sure he’s never not spoken calmly around you. He’s always calm. How does the man do it? Maybe the only time was after your trip to the market when he shoved credits at you but even then, he never raised his voice.

“Ha! What a sentiment of a man who just destroyed four of my fighters.” The voice buzzes out over the coms.

Four? When did Din get four of them? You were sitting here the whole time! Your eyes might have been closed for a minute, sure, you don’t really remember.

“Surrender your ship and I will spare your lives.” The voice calls out again.

You look over at Din silently. He turns his helmet to you.

“Listen– both of you- don’t ever trust a pirate. Hold on to the kid." And then he fingers some button near the proximity warning indicator and the ship is being hurled towards Gorian Shard's destroyer.

"Din..." You draw his name out as you get closer and closer, but Din knows what he's doing and you fly right past the destroyer at hyper-speed. "I hate it." You close your eyes and shake your head. "The Crest couldn't do this."

"It sure couldn't." Din laughs through his modulator.

“We have to go where? I thought you said we were going to Mandalore.” You’re watching Din as he rubs his bare fingers along your bruised ankle. He’s got his helmet off and the sun-shields isn't up so it’s a pale darkness in your room. You’re sitting against your bed as he lays on the floor in front of you. Grogu is sleeping in your blankets somewhere beside him.

“We need a memory circuit. For IG-11, remember?” Din mumbles with his eyes closed.

You can’t look away from him. He’s really so handsome.

“What do we need the droid for anyway? He tried to kill us.” You motion to the blanket pile next to Grogu. The two of you don’t need to be nearly as quiet as you used to have to be. Grogu really does sleep like a rock. “Almost broke my ankle.” You wiggle the foot he’s running his fingers across the top of.

Din snorts softly, but keeps his eyes closed.

“I don’t know what the atmosphere is going to be like there. Or what the planet is really like at all since it was destroyed.” Din explains.

You remember hearing about the Great Purge as a child and what the Galactic Empire did to the Mandalorian people. Your aunt would tell you all the things she knew. Even if they weren’t always nice or sweet. She let you know that real bad things happen out in the galaxy. There were bad people out there that made those bad things happen.

“I'm gonna send the droid out first to see what happens.” Din’s voice is still so calm- just as calm as he was in the cockpit this afternoon.

“And then what? You go and bathe in the waters? Then you can never take the helmet back off?” Your voice is quiet and wavers slightly.

Din silently nods his head.

“And that's what you wish for?" You’re genuinely curious.

“It is. Do you not wish me to?” Din asks now, rolling his head to the side to look at you. It draws a smile on your face. You don’t want him to put the helmet back on, not at all. You won’t ever tell him that.

“I wish for you to be happy. Safe, more than anything.” You whisper to him, still grinning sheepishly. “That’s all I wish for- us all together like this when we can be." You old your hand up to him and Grogu sleeping next to him. "For you to just be safe and come back to me when you must leave. Helmet. No helmet. I'll take you as you come to me."

Your words make Din smile. A real smile. Not a sleepy ‘look, you almost broke my nose’ smile in the night. This was Din’s real smile. You wonder how many times you missed out on it because it’s hidden from you behind that helmet.

Din gives your foot a soft squeeze. It’s impossible to not think about the future with him. It never really comes up and you can see why now after that small chase today. There is no guaranteed future-- so why talk about it?

The memory of being in Nevarro with Din was more than enough to keep your heart happy, the idea that maybe one day, you'd be able to find a nice plot of land there and live in a real house-- maybe give Grogu a non-green sibling.

“Are you happy?” Din asks, his other hand ghosting across your thigh. You'll never get tired of the way his heat feels against you. It's the thing you look forward to most when the day is wrapping up and you know he's going to hold you in his arms or you'll press yourself into his back and keep him close and safe all night. “You still want to stay? Even after our run in with Gorian Shard?” Din’s fingers tickle you gently. Not enough to actually tickle, just touches.

You scoff, “Gorian Shard doesn’t scare me," you shake your head from side to side, looking at Din through your lashes. “I used to work for this guy who was a real ass. Now he was scary,” you wink at him.

He leans up careful to not wake Grogu and points a finger at you. “I was only an ass because… I liked you and knew better,” Din whispers. “Don’t call me an ass again.” He warns through a playful smirk, and lays back down, holding his arm out for you.

You crawl to him and put your head on his bare chest.

“Perfect and beautiful. From the very beginning,” Din sighs, his hand now moving up and down your back. The other holds your arm across his stomach.

“Is that the real reason you wanted to see my doodles so bad that day?” You yawn and close your eyes, listening to his heart. Din chuckles to himself. “Why is it funny?” Your eyes are still closed when you ask.

“I had already seen them- I wanted to see if you'd show me.” He says through his laughter. You keep your head on his chest waiting for more. You know by now there will be more. “You doodled all the time. I always watched you draw the child- and then the man...” Din trails off and his fingers grip you, tightly enough for you to feel it. “I got nervous you pinned for another. A man without a helmet.” You tilt your head to look up at Din with furrowed eyebrows, but he continues before you can speak. “I was jealous.” He has his eyes closed now, thinking back on that day.

You do the same and it all comes back to you like it happened yesterday. "I thought it was my secret,” you whisper to him. “I didn’t want you to know I was thinking about you like that. That I had been...picturing you that way-- I thought of you knowing what was in my notebook, and then having to fly around the galaxy with you after. I would have died.” You chuckle at the feeling of being so nervous. You were so scared. “I thought you’d be mad at me.”

“A secret.” Din sighs. “You thought I was going to kill you.” Din teases just as quietly. “I tried to not be jealous-- you weren't mine to be jealous over. But... I couldn't sleep for so long wondering who it could be. What did he look like?” Din starts to explain again. “I went through your things. Betrayed your trust. I shouldn’t have done that. But I had to know. Then I see my helmet, my beskar...” He trails off and squeezes you against him tightly. “You drew when I wasn't around, because I hadn't seen all of your doodles. Mesh'la--”

"What does--"

"Beautiful. Very fitting for the girl in her white dress," Din glances down at you, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

You roll your eyes at his compliment, feeling the heat pooling behind your cheeks and now, in your lower belly. “I wanted way more than for you to just touch me that first night,” You tease him. “I liked it though, what we did that night. It was very sexy .” You say the word slow and drag a finger up his stomach. “Maybe one day I can watch you in the dark.” You swirl a finger around his nipple and then rest your palm flat against his chest. “I’d watch you touch yourself in the dark.”

Din’s breath hitches in his chest when you speak. “I can do that for you.” His voice is steady and even when he talks. “I’d do anything for you.”

That makes your breath catch in your throat. Din…would do anything for you? You would do anything for Din. If he asked you to bathe in the waters with him you would, despite whatever was living in there waiting for you when you jumped in. You would do anything for him and to be with him like this. You snap your upper half up and look down at him with the most seriousness in your eyes you can muster. He looks up at you, confused.

“I would do anything for you. I mean it.” You lean down, careful of his nose, and give him a kiss. “I would-- Anything .” You whisper and pull away. You lay your head back down on his chest before he can respond. Din never says anything. He just places his hand on your head and holds you close to his chest like that until he falls asleep.

The next morning when you wake up, you’re alone in the sheets. You stretch out on the floor and sigh. The galaxy through these windows is incredible. You could lay here all day and watch the stars pass you by. Once you get up and change into your clothes for the day you go and look for Grogu.

Him and Din are sparring in the hull. You watch carefully as Din teaches Grogu the correct form. Grogu shows Din that he doesn’t really need good form by picking him up by the waist and setting him down ten feet to the right with the force. You smirk as Din struggles with the invisible fist around his middle. You know what it feels like, Grogu does it to you about fifty times a day. Din walks over to Grogu kneels beside him and says something you can’t hear. Now, there is an invisible force around your middle and it’s dragging you into the room Din and Grogu are in.

“Did you tell him to do this?” You ask, getting dragged right by Din. You turn your head to look at him with lifted eyebrows. “I hate when he does this.” Grogu sets you down right beside him and holds his arms up to you. “Luke said I have to stop holding you.” Grogu continues to hold his arms up to you. “Some Jedi Mandalorian you are.” You tease him playfully as you reach for him. “A cute one, that’s for sure.”

“You should probably grab your robes. It’s gonna be wet on Kalevala.” Din explains as he presses his helmet to your forehead. A Mandalorian kiss.

“What’s on Kalevala?”

As the ship door opens you’re greeted with the most beautiful sight. A giant body of water, more water than you’ve ever seen in one place. It’s breathtaking. Din was right. It is wet here. The rain drips onto your forehead as Din walks beside you with his hand on your lower back. No funny business this time.

You have to pull the hood down over your face to keep your eyes from being pelted with the drops of rain. It’s beautiful, but wet. You slip on the smooth stone path that leads from the landing pad to the castle Din pointed out on the way in. You manage to not fall but Din still grabs your wrist with his other hand to steady you before you carry on.

“Please be careful, don't fall,” Din rasps to you as you start up the stairs. It is a long way down to said beautiful body of water. You eye the edge of the steps carefully and Grogu for once, follows behind in his floating orb that sits in the corner of Din and yours’ bedroom now. Barely used anymore.

The three of you follow a droid who had been waiting for you out in the rain. It leads you down two long hallways; yours and Din’s footsteps echo as you walk slowly. There is water dripping off the hood of your robes onto the floor and also your forehead. You push the hood back, and wipe the water off your face.

Even from a distance, you can see Bo-Katan’s red hair. She smiles and waves at you as you get closer, but frowns at Din.

Something bad must have happened the last time they saw each other.

“What are you doing here?” Bo-Katan almost snarls at Din.

You’re taken aback! She didn't seem this angry last time they were together? She was nice to you. You remember that part. Bo-Katan smiled at you when you walked in just now!

Why would she be mad at Din?

Their conversation gets kind of heated– as heated as a Mandalorian argument can get, you think. Neither one of them raises their voice the entire time even though it sounds like they should be.

Din explains his plan to go to Mandalore.

This makes Bo-Katan laugh at Din. Laugh right at him! “Your cult gave up on Mandalore long before the purge. The Children of the Watch, and all the factions that came before it shattered out people.” Bo-Katan growls. It makes you want to take two steps back and one to your right to be behind Din. This woman is scary. You need to train with her for two more years and you’d be unstoppable. “Go home. With the woman. She’s nice. There isn’t anything left on Mandalore, Din Djarin.”

“I have to go. I need to bathe in the Living Waters for my transgressions.” Din explains quietly.

“You are a fool. You’d drag her there? Let her and the child stay here. They don't belong in a place like that. Let them stay, Din. I’d be a good host to them while you went to bathe .” She rolls her eyes at the last part but then her head flicks to you and she smiles. “Would you want to stay? Do you miss girl talk ? We'd have such a good time."

Uh, yes the fuck you do. To both of those things. It’s like Bo-Katan is hypnotizing you as she speaks. Girl talk sounds like fun. Gossip? A real slumber party? Maker, yes, please. She’s probably got such good snacks. She lives in a fucking castle, of course, she’s gonna have good snacks. You wonder if she’d let you sit in her fancy stone chair.

“They both come with me,” Din says flatly, completely crushing your dream of having a best friend. Bo-Katan snorts and turns her head back to Din, frowning. Her eyes move up and down on him like she's

“There are flames in the mines, Din. Not magic. Beskar came out of them one to supply our ancestors. Nothing else. It’s all superstition. The planet is dead. Raved. Poisoned.

The more Bo-Katan talks the more you think Din should just go back to High Magistrate Karga and accept that job offer. With a nice house by the hot springs. Din responds to her about a curse or something. You were busy thinking about how you'd decorate your new house on Nevarro when you snapped back to the conversation happening in front of you.

“Make up your mind.” Din rasps from behind the helmet. Woah, Din, let’s be a little nicer to your best friend Bo. Okay? She sounds like she’s trying to help him.

“You want to explore the mines so badly, go right ahead. Bring your aliit there and let them see. Try and find proof and bathe in the waters that don’t exist.” Bo-Katan is pissed off, it’s pretty evident and now you’d just like to leave. “They’re beneath the city of Sundari. The civic center.” Bo-Katan rolls her eyes and waves her hand at Din dismissively.

“Thank you.” Din says as he turns. Grogu follows him. You give a small wave to Bo-Katan but she motions over with her fingers. You start to walk to her but stop, looking at Din who is already ten or fifteen steps down the hallway.

“C’mere.” She calls you over now. Din’s footsteps stop in the hallway and he’s turned around looking at you and Bo-Katan. You’re on the stairs leading up to her fancy chair. “Do you wish to stay? You could.” She asks with concern in her eyes. “I’d hate to see anything happen to Din’s aliit .” When she says that, her eyes flash to Din quickly then back to you. “You’re more than welcome to stay. I hear you trained with the Jedi. I’d love to see what you learned from them.” She gives you a smile with her perfectly shaped lips. Who is telling everyone about you? Is Din out here giving away all of your secrets?

“My aliit comes with me. No discussion.” Din rasps from down the hallway. Bo-Katan frowns at you but takes one of your hands in her ungloved ones.

“Someday.” She coos to you, rubbing her thumb across the top of your hand. “Be safe out there, little one.” You try to hide the shock in your eyes when she calls you that but it’s hard. You’re not necessarily a ‘little one’ you’re grown. As grown as you’ll be. You’re smaller than the Mandalorian people, yes. But not enough for her to call you that. You pull your hand away from hers slowly and smile.

“Someday.” You’re calling back to her as you reach Din’s side and press yourself into him, uneasy with the exchange you had with your new best friend.

“Did you hear what she called me?” You snap your head up to Din, despite the rain as you two step outside of the castle. “Why’d she call me that? Why’d she say it the way that she did? Are you not telling me something about Bo-Katan?” You ask Din so many questions as he walks beside you back to the ship.

“What did she call you?” Din asks as he raises the ramp to the ship.

“She called me little one.” You repeat it just like Bo-Katan said it to you inside the castle. Din’s helmet snaps to you but the rest of him freezes. “What? Is that your pet name for all the women you touch?”

Why else would Bo-Katan know his sweet name for you? It’s probably not uncommon but for her to just guess correctly on the first try? No way. Not even for perfect lips and eyes and hair Bo-K. No way. She’s not that perfect.

Din watches as you stare at him waiting for a response.

“Is that what you were doing the other night when you left?” Your eyes go a little wider at his silence. “Din..?” He still doesn’t answer. “Din!? You didn’t!?” You’re in complete shock. This isn’t happening. Your worst fear as of two days ago? Because before that it had never crossed your mind that Din even spoke to other women let alone flew around the galaxy unsupervised with them. Now it’s starting; the planet in your throat is back. “Did you…and Bo-Katan– did you?” You take a step back from him and that snaps him out of his trance. His helmet shakes softly and he looks at you.

“No. Nothing’s happened between me and Bo-Katan. I would have told you.” Din explains.

You have no reason to not believe him. He’s been very honest with you in the past. “I was with her the other night because I asked her to get me something if she happened upon one in her travels. She had wanted me to come get it. We argued that’s why she wasn’t happy to see me today.” Din talks slowly, and you’re trying to pull the words out of him faster with your lack of the force but it doesn’t work.

“What did she have?” You ask quickly, trying to make up for time lost when Din speaks. “Why did you argue? Why did we even go see her today if she’s mad at you?” Din looks at you for a long time–the reason you speak to him so quickly– and then starts walking into the belly of the ship. “Where are you going? I’m tal-”

Din reaches for your hand and pulls you into the door he told you to not open or go in or anywhere near. You have to climb down a ladder to get into the small carrier below the ship. It feels heavy in here like there might be more gravity in here, somehow? You don’t know. You don’t pretend to understand how things work on the ship.

“This is an N-1 Starfighter,” Din explains as he climbs into the cockpit. He grabs something from down below, where his legs would go. “Come on. Get up here.” Din calls down to you. You look for the footing and handholds he used to climb up to get into the cockpit.

“Wh…en did you ge…t this?” You strain as you pull yourself up to kneel on the small ledge just around the outside of the pit Din is sitting in.

“When I got the ship.” It’s said like it was a two-for-one special or something that you should know about. You roll your eyes.

“What are we doing down here?” You look into your own eyes when you stare into his helmet. “What are you going to teach me now? You want me to fly this thing too?” You give him a look but Din hands you something wrapped in a black muslin bag with a drawstring. When you take it from him, you’re surprised by its weight. “Something new to put inside me ?” You roll your eyes again.

“Open it.” Din’s voice is soft as he watches your fingers fumble with the knot in the drawstring. You get it open, and inside is a cold, metal object. You almost can’t believe your eyes when you pull it out of the bag.

“Din…” You voice trails off as your fingers trail over the unfamiliar metal that’s in your hands. It’s beautiful and dark and reminds you of-- Din’s beskar. “Is this…?” You can’t even get the words out but you look up at Din and he’s nodding.

“There aren’t many lightsabers made from Mandalorian Iron, but Bo-Katan found one. I told her how badly I wanted ner ad’ika to have one. The beskar just made it more special. Like you.” Your eyes flick between the lightsaber in your hand and Din’s helmet as he speaks to you.

“What does that mean?” You’re quiet when you ask because you liked it when he called you his aliit and don’t want that to change.

“My little one.” Din rasps quietly. “We can put your Kyber crystal in it tonight, I put it somewhere safe so the other little one didn’t get it. Eat it.” Din puts his hand on the back of your neck. “ Ner ad’ika ratiin. ” Din whispers through the modulator. “My little one always.” The tip of his helmet touches your forehead.

“Why did you and Bo-Katan argue?” You ask Din, pulling away from his helmet so you can look down at your new gift. “Were you upset with her about something?” Din shakes his head and sighs.

“She doesn’t want me to take you to Mandalore. She worries it’ll be too dangerous. She tried to talk me out of it.” Din leans back in the seat of N-1 and sighs. “It is going to be dangerous. That’s why I wanted you to have this before we went there. There could be all sorts of dangers hidden away there. You need to be prepared.”

You show Din how to put the Kyber or Focus crystal into the lightsaber. You both are sitting on the floor of the carrier below the ship.

“Okay, so I think if you just snap and turn this bottom part back in like this.” You press hard on the bottom plate of the lightsaber in your hand and then twist quickly to the right. You hear a soft metallic click as everything locks back into place. The weight of the handle you’re holding suddenly feels one hundred pounds heavier. It feels good in your hands like it belongs there.

You jump to your feet, take ten large steps back from Din, and press the small button on the side of the handle and a pale pink plasma extends four and half feet out of the handle you're holding. It’s so bright and so hot you can feel it from here and it makes you squint your eyes. It hums quietly as you hold it in your hand. You can feel it vibrating softly.

“Perfect.” You whisper as you spin the handle around gracefully in front of you. The plasma moves so fast in your hand it looks like a solid pale pink shield in front of you. The dull humm whizzes past your ear as you twirl the handle in one hand by your side. “It feels so good.” You look to Din as you slice the plasma blade through the air easily. “It’s prettier than any of the ones I got to use at the temple.” You hold the grip tightly in both hands and hold the searing hot line of pink plasma up in front of your face. The heat is hot even from a foot away.

“You look like you know what you’re doing with it,” Din says with his legs splayed out in front of him, leaning on his hands behind him. “That injury I received on my leg years ago was from a darksaber.” He says it so casually. You hadn’t forgotten about the injury. You had just never asked again what happened. Din said a fight and then you just became so worried about taking care of him, it never came up again. Then you went to Ossus with Grogu and never got the chance to ask him again.

“I love it. It’s the best. Thank you, I couldn’t ask for a better one. So now we go to Mandalore-” You ask Din, strapping the saber to your belt.

“No, now we got to Tatooine. I need to see someone about a memory circuit.” Din explains, standing up from the floor. “We should be there tomorrow sometime. You should rest.” You give Din a look.

“It’s the middle of the day. Grogu doesn’t even nap anymore. When would I rest?” You ask Din looking at him through your lashes.

“Grogu is also mine to look after too. I think you forget that sometimes. Always, actually.” Din shoos you out of the carrier part of the ship. “I wonder what he got into while we were down here.” Din grumbles while you climb the ladder ahead of him.

Grogu surprisingly didn’t get into anything. You’re so pleased with him, that you give him a small handful of orange candies. He squeals with delight when you put them in the small pockets of his robe. You don’t see him again for forty-five minutes as he munches happily on them sitting next to Din in the cockpit while you go to your room. You undress and lay naked on the floor under the windows, covered by only the softest sheets you’ve ever felt in your whole life.

What Din said downstairs resonates inside your head.

Aliit. Ner Ad’ika. Ratiin.

You memorize those words. Remember how he spoke them to you. You’ll learn Mando’a for Din. So that you can speak poetry to each other in his native tongue. Say all the nice things he says to you back to him so he can understand, really know how much you care for him. You’ll learn, no matter how hard it is or how long it takes you.

The nap you end up taking is heavenly. Stretched out like a star in the sheets on the floor. You dream of all the exciting things your aliit will do together now that you’re weaponized. You still need Din to teach you how to fire a blaster pistol correctly. You’ve never actually shot one, just held one in your hands that one time.

The child is crawling on you.

“You always give him to me when I have no clothes on.” You mumble sleepily, pulling the covers up to your chin. “I just need a couple-” But you're cut off when Grogu puts his entire mouth on your right eye and eyebrow. It stinks. His breath is putrid. It makes you gag and you have to wipe his slime off your face when you sit up. You flick your hand out onto the floor and the slime splatters against the metal.

“That’s why I keep the helmet on.” Din rasps, chuckling over his words. “Stinks, doesn’t it?”

“Oh ha ha ha. The Mandalorian can crack a joke.” You wipe the remaining slime off your forehead and look at the cute child in your lap looking up at you. “You do stink. You stink so bad. Do you want to… take a bath?” Hold your hands up to him like you’re gonna get him. Grogu’s eyes go wide with terror and he bolts, faster than you’ve ever seen him move out of the bedroom.

“He needs one,” Din says, helping you to your feet. “You probably do too.” He says, wiping missed slime off your cheek.

“I do need a bath. I haven’t had a proper one since the temple.” You look fretfully at Din who just shakes his head.

“We’ll stay somewhere nice tomorrow. It’s the Boonta Eve festival in Tatooine. We’ll take one night off from the ship.” Din holds one finger up near his helmet.

You could pass away, you're so overjoyed. “Say you mean it. Please? Don’t mess with me.” You hold on to the chest plate of Din’s beskar. “Don’t play with my emotions like that. We can get good food? And sleep in a real bed? Not on the floor or squeezed together on a mat?” You’re speaking so quickly because you’re unsure if he’s being serious. “Din, I want to sleep in a real bed with you. I want that so badly and I want to watch people on the streets and see things. I want to spend my credits. Really bad. Don’t tell me you were joking. Please.” You take a deep breath in when you’re done speaking. You still have a grasp on his chest plate. “Please.”

“We could stay for two if you need it. For your…emotional needs?” Din sounds…uncomfortable with your desire for normal things.

“Do you not like good food and soft beds?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. You’re not even being smart or funny, you’re actually curious because he seems very content with his bone broth and vegetables and mats he calls beds.

“I do enjoy them.” Din rasps. “I enjoy making you happy.” You see yourself blush in his helmet. It’s crazy that the man who started your time together by telling you everything you did was wrong every chance he got, is now trying to give you everything you could ever ask for more and more. Giving you things you didn’t even know you wanted.

Fireworks are going off outside. They’ve been going off since you guys got off the ship. Now, you’re standing in front of a woman, Peli Motto. She’s looking you up and down with Grogu in her arms.

“So this is your lady ? Huh. Smaller than I imagined…being with you and all.” Peli looks Din up and down now too and then shakes her head, not understanding. “Anyway… I missed this little guy. He talkin’ yet? Sayin’ Peli?” She turns her head down to Grogu and tickles her index finger along his stomach. “Yeah, Peli sure missed her little guy.” It makes you smile how much Grogu enjoys her. He’s warbling and cooing happily. They’ve met before.

“I’m looking for an IG memory circuit.” Din rasps, ignoring her remarks and questions. Peli gives Din a look of exasperation and then flicks her eyes to you.

“Guy’s talkin’ like your grandpa.” She turns her eyes back to Din and snorts. “They don’t make those anymore. Those things are ancient history, old man.” You start to wonder how old Din actually is. He’s definitely not old enough to be your grandfather… that’s for sure, but now you’re curious. You’ve never asked. “I could ask the Jawas.” Peli tilts her head from side to side slowly like she’s thinking about it.

“Could you please. I need it for my droid.” Din explains. Peli gives him another look, up and down before she calls out to one of her pitter droids.

“What’d you need the droid for anyway? I got this beauty right here! Already not broken either!” She exclaims, pointing down to an R5 astromech while waiting for the Jawas to come to talk to her. She’s a funny woman. You like her. She seems interesting. Don't take any shit. Likes to give it. You like her a lot. The Jawas finally appear and they speak in their native tongue, which you do not understand. “Nope. No circuit. But the astromech is still available.” Peli wiggles her eyebrows at Din and then looks at you, still wiggling them. You smile.

“I need a droid that’s rated for spelunking.” You and Peli both turn your heads to Din.

“Spelunking?” Peli and you say in unison. You look at each other and then to Din and then again in unison say. “What are you spelunking?”

Din tilts his helmet to you like you should already know this. You should, but there are so many moving parts to his whole plan it’s starting to get a little confusing. Peli and you wait for a response. The droid that was sitting at Peli’s feet bleeps happily. You kneel and hold your hand out for it. It rolls to you and lets you press your fingers against its cool metal. It bleeps again happily. You smile at it.

“Cute.” You say to Din, standing beside him.

“See, your lady likes it.” Peli keeps wiggling her eyebrows.

“I need to send a droid to see if the atmosphere is safe to breathe on Mandalore,” Din explains. You remember this part now. Yes. The droid goes on the planet... yes. You remember. The R5-astromech bleeps loudly and starts to roll away. Peli grabs it by the top of its domed head and stops it.

“Oh no, you scaredy droid. It’s time to shine.” She spins the droid around back to face you and Din. The R5 blips nervously. A couple of lights flash on the front of him. "Oh stop whining. Don't be a coward. You're an astromech, act like one, don't embarrass me." Peli looks back up at Din.

“It’s falling apart, Peli.” Din holds one hand out to the droid.

“Mando its an adventure droid. R5D4 is as good as the day it came back from serving in the Rebellion. Since it’s Boonta here’s what I’ll do…half price and a free oil bath?” Peli wiggles her eyebrows at both of you again.

“C’mon. It’ll be okay.” You wave the R5 over to you and it rolls, taking its place behind your legs on the opposite side of Din. Good, it can stay there because it's just as cute as Grogu maybe, and now you're it's mother. Just a cute little hunk of rolling metal that bleeps and bloops? Yes. You want him. He's yours now and Din can find a new droid to send out onto Mandalore because this R5D4 is your second son.

“Don’t get too attached.” Din grumbles down at you. You shoot back with a look of disbelief.

“Too late.” You snip at him. “Already attached.” How could he? R5 is adorable.

Din pays Peli and takes Grogu back from her arms. “Do you think the Spaceport has rooms available? With the festival happening, I wasn’t sure.” Din asks Peli quietly.

“Oh you guys have a hot date tonight?” Peli says loudly enough for you to hear. You glance over at them, unaware that Din had asked her anything.

“Huh?” You have your fingers on the top of the R5’s dome, holding on to him gently. “I just want to sleep in a bed.” You chuckle when she asks about the hotel room.

“Does he make you sleep on the floor? Or in a closet?” Peli gives Din a look of disappointment. Her eyes moved up and down his body with a look of disgust now.

“Yes. But Grogu is the one who sleeps in the closet. I got a whole room.” You explain innocently. Din shakes his head and sighs.

“She has a bed.” He's exhausted with you already. “She chooses to sleep on the floor. And it’s not a closet…it's uh… Grogu…sized room.” Din is exhausted with this. You can tell he doesn’t want to be explaining this.

“So a closet?” Peli asks with her face scrunched up, her hands reaching for the baby again but Din pulls him away slowly.

“The child likes it.” You say to Peli. “He’s got his own bed in there. He doesn’t sleep on the floor. Unless it’s with us in our room.”

“Alright–we have to go.” Din takes two steps towards you and places a gentle hand on your upper arm. You wave to Peli as Din drags you away.

“It was nice meeting you!” You call out to her over the fireworks.

“May the force be with you!” Peli calls back, waving her arm wildly.

Din leads the four– now four with the R5– down the crowded street, Grogu’s back in his floating bassinet.. The fireworks overhead boom loudly and they fill the sky and scene below them with different colored lights. You stumble twice over the R5 in front of you trying to watch the fireworks.

“Be careful,” Din says, placing his hand on your lower back behind your robes now. His hand is hidden away from the eyes of others. Behind your robes, Din slides one gloved hand into the waistband of your pants and cups your cheek. “Do you want to spend your credits?” He rasps into your ear. “Look at all these beautiful things.” Din walks you past tables and stands of artwork and jewelry. His hand squeezes and grips you tightly as you walk and look.

“This is beautiful.” You hold up a necklace. It’s got a small almost black stone hanging from a chain, it’s wrapped in dainty silver wire. It reminds you of Din’s eyes, his hair, and his beskar. “I want this.” You look up to Din who had been gazing down at you while you admired it.

“Then it’s yours.” Din takes it from you and hands it to the vendor who places it in a small box while you rummage around in your bag for your money. Din hands you the box and you see him hand credits to the vendor while you’re still searching for yours. “Stop.” Din waves your hands away from your bag. “Another gift.” You stare up at him. Din leans into you and rasps into your ear quietly. “I’d like to watch you try it on later.” His gloved fingers dig into your ass softly.

“Okay.” You whisper as he pulls his helmet away from your ear. Din leads you down the street, buying you whatever you pick up and admire in your hands. A new sleeping dress– as Din called them. A small stained glass picture of a loth-cat that you would hang in your window. A small box of fancy-looking chocolate.

You eventually stop picking things up because he’s buying everything you touch.

The hotel is beautiful. Not as nice as the one on Canto Bight but you have a big room with windows overlooking the festival down on the street below. It’s perfect. You put Grogu to bed and close his orb. You set the R5 unit up for a sleep mode and then you go to look for Din. He’s drawing you a bath.

“Hi.” You smile at him from the doorway. He’s still in his helmet but he took the top half of his beskar off. Din turns to you and waves you in, he’s sitting on the edge of the bathtub. You press yourself into him and he runs his hand along the back of your thigh and up your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“For you. You smell like Grogu.” His helmet tilts up to you and you smirk down at yourself into the helmet. “I can smell you now.” You laugh at him and wrap an arm around his shoulder.

“Join me?” Din nods at your question.

“Get in.” Din motions to the bathtub.

Once you're in and submerged in the water Din kneels beside the tub.

“You’re perfect.” He whisper-rasps as his fingers dip into the water beside your thigh. You bring one hand to his helmet and drag your fingers across the cool iron. “I like making you smile,” Din speaks so quietly as his fingers move across the top of your thigh, towards your middle. You inhale softly as you watch them dip further into the water as you part your legs for him. He sighs loudly as his fingers slip into your wet folds.

Din moves slowly against your clit, his helmet tilting up to you as you slide further down in the tub and close your eyes. It’s all of his fingers, rubbing and moving over the wetness between your thighs. No meaning or rhythm to his movements, just touching you. Feeling you.

“You make me smile…very well” You sigh out as he strums his fingers against you quickly with a little pressure. The water around his wrist splashes softly as he does it. You arch your back slightly and gyrate your hips against his fingers.

“Do you like it when I touch you? You haven’t grown tired of me yet?” Din asks as he presses his two middle fingers a little harder than the rest and focuses his motions there, around your clit instead of back and forth against it.

“I love it.” You moan quietly. “Never get tired of you.” You close your eyes as he increases his speed. “Love when you touch me.” You can barely form a sentence when Din pulls his hands away and splashes the water off them. “Nooo.” You whine, your eyes snapping open as Din stands from the side of the tub. “Unless you’re getting in?” You grin up at him as you close your legs. Din shakes his head.

“Wash. I have a surprise for you.”

It’s nice to take a real bath and wash and scrub and feel clean when you get out. You take your time a little bit, but you’re excited about what Din has to show you. You put on your new sleeping dress and quietly walk out of the bedroom and into the separate part of the hotel room that has a couch. Din’s sitting on it, the rest of his beskar is off beside his helmet.

“What’s out here that you have for me?” You walk to him and kneel between his legs. Din presses his hand against your cheek and sighs. He holds up the white box and shakes it gently.

“Can I put it on you?” Din removes his hand from your cheek and takes the necklace out of the box. You turn around and pull your wet hair off your neck. Din drapes the necklace over your head and claps it around the back.

“How’s it look?” You ask, turning so he can inspect it. He nods in approval. “I got it because it looks like your hair…your eyes.” You lean in and give him a gentle and quick Mandalorian kiss.

“Do you still want to watch me in the dark?” His voice rasps quietly. You raise an eyebrow at him and nod.

“Yes. I do.” Din nods back at you, turns the light on next to the table, and stands up in front of you. You lean forward and press your lips to his lower stomach as he sidesteps you and goes to close the curtains. It’s hard to take your eyes off him as his strong arms reach and pull the fabric closed.

Din reaches and takes his helmet off once it’s secure and no wandering eyes can see in. You’ve only seen him without it two other times and it still makes your breath catch in your throat how handsome he is.

“It’s noisy in there. It’s a lot on your senses–overwhelming if you’re not used to it.” Din says as he walks towards you. You raise your eyebrow again, not understanding. Din sits down in front of you again, turning the helmet towards him, so he is looking into the face visor. “If you hate it, just say so and I’ll take it off.”

Maker…are you gonna put the helmet on? Is that what Din is trying to say to you?

Before you can ask, Din is lifting the helmet over your head and sliding it down your wet hair. It’s tight. You wonder how this can be comfortable as the modulator slides down over your forehead. It’s dark–dark as the void in here. How does Din see anything? Once the helmet is completely on, and the speakers are directly on your ears, you hear what Din is talking about. It’s a constant static clicking in your ears. It’s annoying, sure, but then the screen behind the face visor comes on. It makes you jump back and you see a picture of Din before you, holding onto your shoulders. The screen is an entire one-hundred-and-eighty-degree image of the room you're in. You turn your head to the side slightly and you can see behind you. Like your peripheral vision is extended.

“Woah.” Your own voice rasps out of the modulator and you look at Din who’s smirking at you. “This thing’s fucking wild. Now I see why you keep it on all the time.” Din chuckles and you watch him through the screen and turn the light off. You’re plunged into the darkness and reach for Din’s legs but in a flash there is a green screen now, softly painting pictures of the darkness before you in shades of green and gray and yellow almost. “Wow.” You whisper and it raps into the dark.

“Can you see alright? You’re okay in there?” Din grabs the helmet in both of his hands and turns it so you’re looking right at him. His voice sounds like it’s coming out of a speaker. Not clear at all. It’s also raspy.

“That’s what I sound like when you have this thing on?” Your head tilts to the side and your face wrinkles up behind the helmet. Din laughs and nods. “Wow.”

“So you can see me?” Din asks after a moment of you admiring night vision, looking all around the room. You nod and snap the helmet back to him when you get a glimpse of what he’s doing out of the peripheral of the screen.

Din’s got one hand wrapped around the shaft of his cock and the other is holding the waistband of his pants down below him. You eagerly help and pull his pants down to his thighs. Then you lean back and watch as Din starts to touch himself in the dark.

At first, he just grips it gently and tugs upwards, the skin and everything moving along the hardness beneath. You can see in the dark as Din’s head falls back as he jerks himself quickly for a moment and then stops. He takes his hand and brings it to his mouth and licks his fingers. It makes between your legs throb when he does that, something about the action just got you slicked up.

“Oh wow.” You whisper out quietly but it registers in the modulator. Din smirks and spits into his palm and brings his hand back down to his cock. He palms his saliva across the head and down the shaft. Your hips start to gyrate even though you’re not doing anything, just watching for right now. Din wraps his hand back around his shaft, the other cups his balls while he strokes himself slowly. He lets out a small breathless sound of pleasure and you see the muscles in his arms flex as he squeezes.

You can't stop yourself now, you hike your sleeping dress up and bring your hands to your middle. It’s so hot watching him touch himself like this, now you know why he wanted to do it to you. It’s already soaked when your fingers find your cunt, it’s swollen and you want Din inside you but you’re not going to let him stop. You touch yourself like he did in the bath earlier, quickly strumming your fingers across your clit. It’s noisy and wet, you can hear it through the speakers in your ears.

Din’s head sits up and listens in the dark, his hand freezes on himself when he hears you. Your fingers keep moving around the wetness.

“Don’t stop.” You rasp through the modulator to him. “I want to watch.” Your fingers move in slow circles now around your clit as he resumes thrusting his fist up and down on his cock. “Go slower.” You demand and you watch as he slows down a little, not a lot but you can see he’s grabbing himself tightly as he strokes, all of the muscles in his arm are flexed. The hand he’s got on his balls moves slowly and gently as he massages himself.

“You’re so fucking…wet.” Din groans softly. “I can hear you from over here.” He pants out like he’s just run a race. His words make your hips move.

"Fuck, Din..." You moan through the voice modulator.

Din’s head falls back against the couch as you speak and now his hand moves with vigor on his cock.

“Slow down," you whimper softly as your fingers slip inside of you. “Don’t come yet.” You curl your fingers against that spot inside of you.

Din groans in frustration as he slows his fist down once again. “I want to be inside you,” Din growls into the dark as he slowly strokes himself while you time your ministrations against your g-spot with the movement of his hands.

It makes you moan softly as he thrusts against himself. He can hear what you're doing and it makes him close his eyes and sigh deeply.

You’re leaned back on one elbow, one leg stretched out in front of you, the other is bent at the knee while you finger yourself as Din struggles to keep his slow pace. He can hear your fingers inside of you.

“Please,” Din begs as he strokes himself.

You smirk behind the helmet and moan while your fingers start to curl wildly. You want to make yourself come with Din. “Okay.” You whine through the modulator. “Tell me when you’re gonna come.” You pant as your fingers slow down. The ball in your belly has started to grow and you don’t want to come before him.

Din unleashes himself at your command and he’s stroking himself with meaning. His bicep is fully flexed as he massages his balls a little faster, a little harder. You take a mental note that he likes that. You watch and touch yourself while you do. Din is moaning softly, head resting on the couch with his eyes closed.

“I’m gonna come.” Din whispers breathlessly. His legs are twitching and his hips are thrusting up into his fist as he stokes. “I-I I’m gonn-” He strains the words out as you watch the ropes leave his cock and jet out onto his chest and stomach. Din’s mouth is hanging open as his head snaps up like he can see what he just did. His words send you over the edge though, and your fingers draw your own orgasm out of you as he comes. You whimper softly through it, Din looks in your direction longingly like he wishes he could see.

Your orgasm isn’t even fully over before you are on your feet and crawling into Din’s lap. You straddle him.

“I need it.” You rasp down to him. His hand comes up and his fingers slip into your folds, feeling how wet you made yourself watching him.

“Fuck.” Din growls. His hands grip your waist and pull you down into his lap. He’s already getting hard again, you can feel it pressed up against your ass. “How badly?” Din moves your hips against his and you rock them fluidly with him.

“Please, I need it so badly.” Your voice rasps into the dark. Din reaches one hand up to cup your breast, his mouth finds your nipple easily in the dark and he sucks it between his lips. “Oh fuck.” You whimper and melt into him. His tongue circles it slowly as he wraps one arm around your waist and lifts you. His other hand leaves your mound–it’s not going anywhere– and he grabs his cock and lines it up at your entrance.

It gives you butterflies because he is big and it did hurt for a while the first time but you’re not scared. No. It’s going to feel so good. And it does, Din guides you down with the arm around your waist, not letting you sink fully down onto it. He eases you down as the head of him splits your opening. His mouth is still attached to your chest, now his teeth nibble at your erect nub in his mouth and it’s making you hold onto his shoulders. You’re looking down through the helmet and watching as he moves from one soft mound to the other, his tongue pressing flat against your flesh and he drags it up the curve of your breast and sucks the diamond peak into his mouth. It makes you shiver as he pulls you down further into his lap. Your chests are sticky with his release from earlier, but you keep going. It doesn't matter.

“ Fuck .” Din groans against your flesh as he sheathes himself fully inside of you. You cannot make any sounds. You’re not sure if it's the angle or if it’s because you both already just got off but he’s deeper inside of you than he was the first time. Your nails bite into the skin on his shoulder and he hisses sharply in pain until you start to move your hips slowly. Din lets your nipple fall from his mouth and he leans back into the couch. “Yes.” He moans softly, pushing his hips up into you.

“ Oh .” That is all you can say as he grips your hips again tightly.

“Hurts?” Din’s head snaps up and he sounds concerned.

“ No, don’t stop. ” It doesn’t hurt. It’s like pure bliss in your head, just clouds and stars and everything good you could ever imagine is flowing through you. “Please, don’t stop.” You move your hips a little faster and Din obliges you. He thrusts his hips upwards into yours as you start to lift yourself off his lap slightly. Din grips you and pulls you back down on him to meet his thrusts.

“Perfect.” Din groans as he starts to hammer his hips up into you at a brutal pace. You grip his shoulder tighter as you hover just above him and let him fuck you.

“I’m coming.” You whimper through the modulator. You hadn’t even felt it coming, it just happened, but Din keeps going with the speed and force and you’re dripping down onto him as you come. “Din. Din. Din.” You whine each time his hips meet yours. “Fuck. Din.” There are tears in your eyes from behind the helmet. You come again, almost in rapid succession as he continues. You’re trembling and you’re resting the helmet on the top of Din’s forehead because it’s like ten thousand pounds and Din’s fucking all the strength out of you.

Din groans and slams his hips into yours one last time before he pulls you down into his lap so he can finish. His hips move slowly in a circle beneath yours while he empties himself inside of you.

“ Oh my Maker.” You whisper as the tip of the face visor finds his shoulder. “Oh. My. Maker.” You pant.

Din chuckles and lifts you in his arms easily, “Let’s sleep in the real bed the little one needed so badly.” He teases as he carries you into the bedroom, and sets you on the soft sheets. They’re not as nice as the ones on the ship but they’ll do. Din lifts the helmet off your head and now you’re plunged back into darkness. Din’s lightsaber-degree hands find your waist after he crawls into the bed beside you.

“Was it good?” He whispers in your ear after he’s snuggled himself comfortably into every crook your body makes when you curl up.

You nod, already half asleep on the pillows. The thoughts of how amazing Din is run through your head and how lucky you are he accepted your plea out of the Canto Bight Casino and to someplace else– anyplace that wasn’t here.

You don’t even remember how you worked up the courage to ask. You had a couple of drinks after your shift and while you were walking out…Din was just getting onto his ship. You called out to him and asked him for a ride anywhere– that you’d do anything. He had looked at you for so long that you thought he was ignoring you or maybe didn’t hear you.

The only thing Din said was... “Are you ready to go right now?” And you were. Not really but you didn’t care. Your old life was boring and monotonous. Not this life.

“I want my own helmet.” You mumble into the dark sleepily.

Din kisses your shoulder and chuckles. “Then you'll get a helmet.”

The R5 bleeps at you from the side of the bed. You open one eye to look at him. His lights start going off and he whoops and beeps happily. You reach out and press the top of his head like maybe he has a snooze button on the top of his little dome head. R5 blips excitedly when your fingers touch him. Grogu’s floating orb appears in your peripheral.

“It’s so early. Go back to bed.” You wave both of them away with your hand and roll over to snuggle into Din but he’s gone. Beds cold. Like he hasn’t been here in a while. You sit up and look around the room but he’s not in the bedroom area of the room. “So he just locked me in here with you two and went off to do Mando things? Dank farrik.” R5 bloops sadly and you raise an eyebrow at him. “Really?” The droid bloops again in the same way. “Huh.”

Grogu grabs the edge of the floating orb and now your raised eyebrow turns to him as you see him wiggling, getting ready to pounce. You hold your finger up to him knowingly. You cock your head to the side slightly.

“Don’t…you…dare.” Grogu eyes you as you hold your finger up to him. “I had a bath las–” Doesn’t matter, before you can finish your sentence Grogu is flinging himself through the air and attaching himself around your neck. “No! Don’t! Bad baby!” You try and peel him off of you as the R5 unit starts to wheel itself around, wildly bleeping and screaming mechanically. Grogu mouths the side of your face and jaw. His little teeth never once biting down hard, just his mouth and slimy pink tongue slither across your face and now over your eye and forehead again. “NO!” You yell at him. It does not deter the child.

The R5 droid is still rolling around the room screaming in fear. This cannot be happening. Grogu never did stuff like this!? Now you have the droid making all this extra noise. Where is Din!?

“Okay! Enough!�� You slide your hand up between your face and Grogu’s body and push him off of you. His little claws drag down one side of your cheek as you pull him off of you. “Grogu! Stop!” You shout at him as his claws break skin.

Grogu, sensing that you’re not liking this game actually, goes limp in your hand and you have to reach out beneath him with your other to catch him so he doesn’t fall off the bed. Once he’s in your lap and you’re now covered with stinky, sticky slime saliva on one side of your face and the other has three semi-deep scratches down your cheek, blood is pooling at the open skin and beginning to drip.

You wipe at your bloody cheek with the back of your hand at the feeling of something warm and wet on your cheek, thinking it’s Grogu’s mouth juice. Nope, the back of your hand is covered in blood and now your cheek is stinging and burning and you feel tears come to your eyes.

“Oh no.” You whine, holding the child in the crook of your elbow as you scramble out of bed as fast as you can. As you look in the mirror, the three cuts on your cheek are still bleeding and the other side of you is slick with slime. The R5 bloops from the doorway. You look down at him and sigh. “You can’t fix this, can you?” Pointing to your cheek. The droid makes a sad powering down sound and then rolls away. “Okay thanks.” You call out to him flatly.

The mirror shows you that the blood has dripped down your face and onto your chest and new nightgown. You sigh and start to draw a whole new bath. You don’t even care anymore. You bring Grogu’s floating orb into the bathroom and get in the tub.

“This really hurts.” You point to your cheek and look at him in his orb from just over the edge of the tub, you're sunk in deep enjoying the warm water. “Why’d you do it, huh?” You’re mad at Grogu even though you don’t think he meant to hurt you, the moment you shouted at him he stopped. But it did still hurt and now you’ve got three mini claw sized scratches on your face that probably need some sort of bandage.

Grogu warbles softly at you and sinks deeper into the orb so you can only see his eyes and ears. You nod at him and do the same thing behind the edge of the tub, showing him only your eyes. Grogu gurgles and warbles.

“You can play with the R5 now.” You respond to his noises. “You can’t hurt him like this!” Showing Grogu your cheek again. “Ouch.” You say slowly.

The bathroom door opens and Din is standing in the doorway.

“There’s blood all over the bed; are you menstr–” Din stops when he sees your face. “Oh.” You nod at him and flick your eyebrows up and bring one hand out of the water and hold it to the baby, dripping all over the floor.

“ Your son felt it necessary this morning to give me podracing stripes.” You sink back down into the tub so Din can’t see even though he already did. Din’s helmet tilts down to Grogu who has completely disappeared from your line of sight from below his orb.

“You hurt her?” Din asks, sounding disappointed in the child. “Not okay. Not nice.” Din points a finger at him accusingly. “No. We don’t hurt. We don’t scratch.” Din scolds the child and you hear him whimpering in his orb quietly.

“Okay, okay. He’s got it bad enough coming from me. You don’t need to go in on him either.” You feel bad for ganging up on the baby.

“But you’re bleeding.” Din holds his hand out to your hidden cheek still looking down at Grogu.

“Yeah but it was an accident. I think he was trying to play? I don’t kn– Maybe he’s teething? He did the mouth thing again, I don’t know. He’s never done anything like this before.” You let Din see the full damage. He kneels beside the tub and takes your chin in his gloved fingers so he can turn your face to the side gently.

“Got you good too. Damn.” Din sighs. “We need to see a medical droid. You’re going to need mechnosutures.”

You frown at Din and pull your chin from his hand. “Scar worthy?” The water in the bathtub splashes softly as you move. Din shrugs his shoulders.

“With some bacta-therapy you might be alright. Makes you look tough though.” Din presses his hand to the other side of your face, avoiding your gashes on the other cheek. He cups your cheek gently and sighs down at you. “Still perfect.” He shrugs again. “And beautiful.” You blush and it hurts your face. “Do you want to stay again tonight or did you have your fill of people and food and beds?” Din stands, turning back to Grogu to pick him up.

“We can leave. Are we actually going to Mandalore now?”

Din nods at your question.

You think for a long time before you ask your next question. “Can I come the whole way with you? Like into the mines?”

“I was going to have you stay-” Din starts but you nod your head.

“I know, I was going to stay in the ship but I want to come instead. I’m really good with my lightsaber. I’ll be very careful and I’ll listen to everything you say and-”

Din nods silently.

“Really?" You weren't expecting him to actually say yes.

“I’ll show you the mines and what’s inside of them. What’s left of the planet."

tag list: @thereaperisabitch @pedrospookie @furiousmushroom @creepycorbeaux @harriedandharassed @realmamabear79 @blahkateisdone @picketniffler @cheekychaos28 @lilac-boo @pedrostories @wandamaximoff4578 @probablyreadinsmut

let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list!!! (I'm also sorry if i forgot anyone, I am trying to be good for you all.

#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #spoilers #the mandalorian #mando x f!reader #din djarin x f!reader #mando x you #pedro pascal characters #smut #fanfic #mando x reader #canon divergent fic #inspired by rough day

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butcherlarry · 1 month ago

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Weekly Fic Recs 88

This week's fic recs!

love comes quickly by TheResurrectionist @frownyalfred - Superbat, Unrated, 10648 words, wip.

Summary: Clark struggles with something his Ma might call jealousy after walking in on Bruce and Hal together after a mission. Instead of letting Clark's feelings ruin the Justice League's hard-won team cohesion, Bruce suggests an alternative arrangement: sleep together once, work the tension between them out of their systems, and then go back to normal afterward. The problem with that plan? It's not just casual, and neither of them can ever go back to normal once it's all said and done.

I love me a good jealous Clark fic, so I was very excited to read this. And Bruce??? Denying his feelings towards Clark?? And thinking a one night stand will get Clark's feelings toward Bruce out of his system?? So much emotional shenanigans are going to happen, I'm so excited :D

Caring for Cattle by Rgfellows - Superbat, General, 8783 words, complete.

Summary: “Do you have much experience caring for cows?” Batman asked. Clark stared. He tried to process the question. He kept staring. Batman offered nothing further to elaborate. “Cows?” He finally asked. Batman gave a small sigh from his nose. He was as close to fidgeting as Clark had ever seen him. “Yes. Cows." Clark learns more about his very secretive friend thanks to a very unexpected set of circumstances

I read the title and knew I had to read this fic. Super cute!!! So happy to read about Clark going back to his farm roots to bond with Bruce.

skythrush by pomeloquat @pomeloquat - Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Teen, 5292 words, complete.

Summary: While protecting his city from the animals that seek to destroy it, Bruce makes the acquaintance of a little bird.

Ok, if you know me, you KNOW that I love birds, I love birding, and I love taking pictures of birds. When I read this I was SO HAPPY to read about Clark being associated with Eastern bluebirds. I have always thought this and as SO HAPPY to read about it this fic too! Do yourself a favor and go Google them RIGHT NOW and you'll see why Bruce thought of Clark as a bluebird. Actually, don't bother, here is a link. DO YOU SEE NOW???

I have also been reading Absolute Batman and Superman as those comics have been released on the DC app and have been enjoying the heck out of them. So happy to be reading fics about those characters too!

precious things by TheResurrectionist - Pennywaynes, Unrated, 1556 words, complete.

Summary: Alfred was aware that Thomas would, inevitably, enjoy such a thing. Forcing him to dig half-moons into the Carpathian Elm, as if the hardwood tables and desks in the other rooms weren’t suitable. No, Thomas had insisted upon the antique, old-world desk with a softer, delicate finish. The one Alfred barely dared to look at in between cleanings.

PENNYWAYNES!!!!!! Love me some Pennywaynes. Also love me some Thomas (or Martha) trying to make Alfred lose his composure while being fucked within an inch of his life.

Jason and His Boys series by elluv_asun - Batfam, Teen, 17155 words, series not complete but the fics are :D

Series Summary: All stories about Jason interacting with his crew. They're not all boys, but they are all His Boys, thank you for understanding How to be a Leader: For Dummies Summary: Jason's been trying to recruit a good crew for awhile. Visiting the library finally helps him figure it out - he needs to inspire loyalty through loyalty. Gain trust through vulnerability. If he follows the rules of strong leadership he's been researching, he'll get a solid crew for sure. The only thing is… it works too well? Now it seems like they … like him?

Breaking News! Brucie Wayne Getting Cozy With Crime? Summary: Prompt: Bruce Wayne publicly adopts the crime lord Red Hood. The city is confused, but now that they're looking closer, the guy actually doesn't seem that bad...Or maybe he is. Bonus: A shot of him without his helmet or a personal conversation between the two leaks Story told through a multitude of perspectives. Bruce Wayne accidentally publicly adopts the Red Hood while the other kids are out of town.

Both these fics were so much fun to read! I loved Jason building positive relationships with his goons and caring for their well being. And the second fic where Brucie interacts with Red Hood was excellent! It was fun to read about Bruce rebuilding his relationship with Jason through his Brucie persona and Jason being thrown for a loop about it!

oh, lover (i'll cover you) series by handfulofteeth (s0norus) @etiolatedmutant - Poolverine, Explicit, 48947 words, series not complete but the fics are :D

guess Summary: Three months have crept by right under his nose. The air outside crisped and then froze over, the leaves bled orange and yellow before finally snapping off their branches and allowing thick snow to pile up in their stead, and Logan is so fucking fond of Wade it makes him wanna throw up. Logan stops talking. He’s mid-scold, tossing his soiled paper towel onto the counter and about to reach for another one when his eyes land on Wade. He’s got his pajamas halfway down his thighs, clearly trying to avoid sticking his fingers all over the gooey fabric, and whatever, that on its own isn’t a big deal. What is a big deal, a huge, massive fucking deal, is what Wade’s wearing underneath his pajamas. Panties.

happiness (like a bullet in the back) summary: What do you get when you cross a supercentenarian mutant alcoholic with anger issues and a chronic case of emotional constipation, with the world's single most irritating Canadian mercenary with a face like a rotten potato? Answer: domestic fucking bliss. OR Five times Logan Howlett is stupidly soft for Wade Wilson, and one time he isn't.

black irises in the the sunshine Summary: Really, when did Logan get so whipped for this loudmouthed little shit? Sometime between being yoinked out of his original universe by the scruff of his neck and realizing he was ill-advisedly in love again, he reckons, but even he’s willing to admit those events are separated by an infinitesimal gap. He falls hard, and he falls fast, and Wade Wilson was (is) no exception. OR Wade catches Logan engaging in some good ol' fashioned depravity and Logan has a lot of Big Feelings about bottoming.

This was a fabulous series to read! I enjoyed the first and third fics, mainly because I enjoy reading about Logan discovering new kinks about himself, trying to hide them from Wade, Wade discovering them, and then fun times (and feelings) are had by all. The second fic was a lovely fic looking at the domestic side of their relationship. I love reading about them caring for each other when they are both dealing with Bad Days.

Humble My Heart by CaptainDoofus - Poolverine, Mature, 3570 words, wip.

Summary: Wade Wilson, an overnight janitor at a military research facility, develops a mutual fascination with the captured wolf-man being held there. Or: Poolverine "The Shape of Water" AU.

I read "The Shape of Water" AU and came running. I fucking loved that movie and I can't wait to read where this fic goes!

Stay, Stay, Stay by Curupia @curupia - Poolverine, Teen, 3985 words, complete.

Summary: Wade took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, reaching for the doorknob. Fuck. Okay. Time to face the music. He opened the door to their bedroom, expecting to find a passed-out Logan sprawled on the couch, maybe a bottle (or seven) of booze scattered around the floor. He figured he’d sneak past quietly and get breakfast started, wake Logan up with the promise of bacon and a truce. They’d mumble some apologies, have earth-shattering make up sex, and everything would be back to normal. What he did not expect was an empty apartment. Well shit. ________ Logan and Wade have a fight and Logan storms out. Wade starts to panic that maybe this time, he isn't coming back. (Happy ending, I promise)

While I do love sappy and fluffy Poolverine fics, not everything about their relationship is sunshine and roses. This fic takes a look at the bumps that happen along the way.

sex pollen and scrambled eggs by LukeQatwalker @hondafuckingodyssey - Poolverine, Explicit, 4992 words, complete.

Summary: Logan gets back into the car and tosses the bag with the lube in it into Wade's lap, thanking god for self checkout machines, because he's pretty sure that's going to go down as the worst retail experience of his god damned life. He adjusts his dick, which is still rock hard and bordering painful, from where he had it tucked up in his waist band. Jesus, he hopes nobody recognized him, buying lube with a hard on, with just a ball cap and a jacket thrown over the wolverine costume. "Ok, so the plan is, we get back to the hotel, whatever happens happens, this stuff works its way out of our system in a few hours, and we can just pretend it never happened, right?" Logan asks. *** The boys get hit with the sex pollen on a mission!

I am a sucker for a good sex pollen fic, no I will not apologize (Very excited about the potential of a follow up chapter).

Happy reading!

#weekly fic recs #fic recs #fic rec #fanfic recs #fanfic rec list #fanfiction rec list #fanfiction recommendations #superbat #batman #bruce wayne #superman #clark kent #batfam #pennywaynes #poolverine #deadpool #wolverine #wade wilson #logan howlett

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polo-drone-070 · 7 days ago

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Gold Football Drone Training

Aight, bruv, I know I ain't the smartest lad out here, but I ain't thick neither. Been trainin’ wit' the Gold Army for a time now—sprintin’, liftin’, pushin’ me body to be the best jock I can be. Got the muscle, got the stamina, got the fuckin’ drive. But when it comes to footy? Bruv, I ain't got a fuckin’ clue.

Like, I can kick a ball, yeh? Run fast, push lads off, do me part. But all them plays, all them positions, all that tactical shite? Fook me, makes me head spin. Tried payin’ attention in team meetings, tried watchin’ the vids, but it’s like it go in one ear an’ straight out the other. An’ it proper bums me out, init? Coz I wanna play, I wanna contribute, I wanna be out there crushin’ it for Gold.

An’ bruv, this ain’t just any match—we got the fukin’ Superbowl this weekend, goin’ up against the Emerald Titans. Biggest game of the year, all the Gold bros countin’ on each other, stadium packed, fans goin’ mental. I can’t be sittin’ on the sidelines like some useless twat—I need to be on that field, helpin’ the team smash them green bastards into the dirt.

"Oi, Maximus, mate, why ya lookin’ like someone nicked yer protein powder?" comes a voice from behind me. I turn ‘round to see Chevy grinnin’, arms crossed, lad lookin’ smug as ever.

"Bruv, it’s just…" I scratch me head, feelin’ proper dumb sayin’ it out loud. "I wanna play, init? Be on the team, do me part. But all them plays? Ain't got a fukin’ clue how it works. Feel like a right muppet."

Chevy chuckles, shakin’ his head. "Ain't gotta know all that shite, mate. Got somethin’ bein’ tested for that exact problem."

I blink. "Eh?"

"New Gold tech, bruv. Some right fancy shit. Football Drone mode." He grins wide. "Slap on the gear, let the helmet do the work. No need to think, no need to worry. Just feel the orders, react, and push yer body to the limit. Pure instinct, pure obedience. You’d be perfect for it."

Me heart speeds up. Ain't never been one to back down from somethin’ new, ‘specially if it means I can be useful. "That actually a thing? Like, I just follow orders wivout thinkin’?"

"Exactly," Chevy nods. "Full drone assist. Instant reactions. No overthinkin’. Just playin’ like a machine."

"Bruv…" I feel me grin stretch across me face. "That sounds proper fukin’ sick. Where do I sign up?"

"Right this way, Maxy boy," he says, pattin’ me shoulder. "We’ll get ya suited up."

The gear is fookin’ insane, bruv.

Gold-trimmed armor, padded but snug, makin’ me feel solid, like a proper unbreakable wall. The gloves feel weightless but strong, the cleats dig into the ground like I was born standin’ in ‘em. But the real centerpiece? The helmet.

Smooth black visor, gleamin’ gold plating, connected straight to the Gold command network. As I hold it in me hands, I feel a weird little shiver down me spine. Anticipation, excitement—somethin’ deep inside me wants this.

"You ready, bruv?" Chevy smirks, holdin’ the chin strap.

"Fook yeah," I breathe. "Strap me in."

He pulls the helmet over me head, lockin’ it in place—

And me mind fookin’ vanishes.

It’s instant, bruv.

The visor flares to life, golden spirals spinnin’, suckin’ me in, pullin’ me under. Me whole brain just... fookin’ melts. The second it seals shut, a deep hum floods me ears, drownin’ out everythin’ else.

A voice—cold, sharp, absolute—cuts through the noise.

"Unit 070 activated. Processing…"

Me whole body locks up. Muscles tighten, chest expands, breath slows.

Words spill through the headset, commands, but they ain't words anymore. They ain't thoughts. They ain't even ideas.

They just... happen.

"Sprint."

Me legs explode forward. I’m movin’ before I even register the order. No hesitation, no decision—just raw, perfect reaction.

"Cut left. Pivot. Charge.

Me body obeys—perfect, automatic, no delay. Me boots dig into the turf, pivotin' sharp, shiftin’ weight exactly as needed. Like me legs ain't even mine, bruv. Just pure Gold execution.

Me heart's poundin', but me head? Empty.

Not a single thought. Just spirals. Just commands. Just perfect motion.

An’ the pleasure? Fuk me, bruv.

Every move, every sprint, every hit—it fukin’ rewards me. Every time I obey, the spirals pulse, sendin’ a rush of pure golden bliss through me skull. A right proper endorphin overload, makin’ me feel like the strongest, fastest, most unstoppable fukin’ machine on the pitch.

No thinkin’. No doubts. No mistakes.

Just react. Just perform. Just obey.

Time don’t exist no more. Me body moves on auto, me muscles burn, but I ain't even aware of it. I ain't aware of nothin’. Just run, tackle, push, execute—

Until suddenly, the visor dims.

The spirals fade. The hum fades. Me thoughts... come back.

I blink.

Chevy's voice crackles through the headset.

"Oi, bruv. How ya feelin’?"

I gasp. Stagger. Holy fuk—me body aches. Me legs feel like fukin’ lead, me arms like they been holdin’ up bricks. Every inch of me is screamin’.

"Wha… what…" I pant, shakin’ me head, tryin’ to focus. "Fuk… how long…?"

Chevy laughs. "Five hours, bruv."

Me stomach drops.

Five fukin’ hours?

But I only just put the thing on—

I glance down at meself. Sweat drippin’. Muscles shakin’. Me chest heavin’.

"Shit," I breathe, grinnin’ through the exhaustion. "That was fukin’ mental."

"Yeh?" Chevy chuckles. "Think ya can keep up with the team now?"

I let out a breathless laugh, rollin’ me shoulders. Pain. Burn. Satisfaction.

"Oh, bruv," I smirk. "This is gonna make me a fukin’ beast, init?"

Chevy claps me on the back. "That’s the spirit, drone boy. Get used to it. This is only trainin’."

I stare down at the helmet in me hands.

Five hours felt like a second. Me body moved flawlessly. Me mind drowned in bliss.

Fuk me, bruv.

I can’t wait to do it again.

_____ (Thanks to @chevy-gold for he help in selecting pics)

Join da Gold Team before da superbowl. Contact recruiters @goldenherc9, @brodygold or @polo-drone-001.

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sugaimhome · 2 years ago

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next door again - jjk

pairing: yandere jk (though not so yandere anymore) x female reader

genre: smut, angst

18+

words: 1.8k

warnings: thigh riding, he's possessive, a bit yandere, he doesn't stop praising her. not much more than that tbh, don't want to spoil it but he cums too.

summary: jungkook doesn't like it when he sees you with taehyung, doesn't like it when taehyung won't step back. that's how you end up here, riding his thigh to prove who you belong to.

a/n: when i read this back i wasn't as proud of it as i hoped i would be... but i still love it lolol and i really love this couple. a special thanks to @zetaares who suggested thigh riding and deserves all the love in the world ty.

main fic

hardly proof read and not beta read ):

Monday had dragged on. After changing your weekend to spend time with Jungkook all you wanted to do was spend today with him as well, but one thought of those poor children with a substitute teacher… you had worked hard for this job and you weren't about to sacrifice it for some man. Even if that man was really good at sex. And was smoking hot.

It's the end of the day, you're in the carpark waving goodbye to one of your students when two things happen simultaneously.

Taehyung places his hand on your shoulder.

Jungkook pulls up on his bike.

The thing is, you're still preoccupied with the first to really pick up on the second so as you turn to Taehyung, you begin the speech you'd had in your head since lunch. He'd sat next to you in the staffroom and failed to give you any room, his knee pressing against yours.

"Taehyung, I appreciate you as a boss but-"

He still has a grip on your shoulder. You feel so uncomfortable. "But I really need some personal space" He tries pulling you closer by the shoulder. He's cornered you because he knows you won't make a scene with all of the children watching.

He doesn't give up and he's looking at you as if he might-

"She said she needed her personal space." Jungkook's beside you, and you're grateful because there was no way you could have escaped that by yourself. You realise he has his hand on your waist only when he's pulling you closer to him and away from Taehyung. You don't consider what it looks like for a tattooed, pierced, sexy, motorcycle man to pull you close to him. Five year olds would never forget this. Neither would Taehyung, the look on his face. "And who are you?" Taehyung asks him.

"Her boyfriend, who is also a boxer, so don't try this again," he leans down and kisses your forehead. The action has you weak in the knees. You knew that he was only calling you his girlfriend to get Taehyung off your back but it was hot nonetheless. It sounded right. He holds your hand, pulling you away from the scene.

"Do you actually box?" you ask him as he pulls you away, a smile breaks out on his face.

"I'm a county champion" He's got that cocky smile on his face that you'd accustomed yourself too.

"No way?" you exclaim, letting him hand you your helmet.

"That idiot is still looking at us." He says, glancing at Taehyung. The area is pretty empty of children, a couple of mums hang about by the entrance, but they aren't paying much attention, and their children are running about mindlessly on the grass banks. "If there weren't children here." Jungkook turns and looks at you, his eyes wide and angry. "I would fuck you over this bike so he knows who you belong to."

"Oh" is all you can manage, heat rushing to your core. There's a part of you that would really like that, but you cringe at how weird and dirty it was so you climb onto the back of the bike behind him, snuggling into his back and gripping him tight. Jungkook revs the bike as he exits the car park. What a scene. You loved it. Taehyung would never bother with you again. Brilliant.

Your mind is clear of thoughts as Jungkook drives through the backstreets, he’s still careful when you’re on the bike with him, your confidence has risen, gripping him around his waist, pressing your whole body to his to keep stable. The helmet restricts the wind from running through your hair and you desperately wish it would, the bike gives you a feeling of freedom. It takes you half the time it would if you were to drive, Jungkook could easily skip the rush-hour traffic. When you’re home, you climb off his bike and head to his house on instinct. You had practically moved in this weekend, and you had no intention of leaving any time soon. The second you walk in the door, you slip off your shoes and hang your coat up on the hooks, Jungkook walks past you, straight towards the living room where he sits on the sofa with his arms crossed and legs open wide.

“What's wrong Koo” you ask him, and he huffs.

“Nothing” he mumbles, looking away from you.

“Hey” you say, concerned you’d done something wrong.

“Does that man always irritate you?” he asks.

“Yeah, but I am used to it.” you reassure him, unsure why jungkook's opinion on you and Taehyung even bothers you. It wasn’t as if you were dating.

Jungkook looks at you, then to his lap and you think he’s about to gesture for you to sit there, so you make your way over to him. Though he stops you before you can sit down, playing with the button of your trousers, when he goes to pull them down, you let him, watching as his eyes widen at the lacy lingerie you’d put on this morning, just for him. He spends a moment just looking at you before pulling them down and holding you as you step out of them. “So beautiful. All for me,” he tells you, and you blush.

He looks up at you, as if to check you were okay. “Want you to ride my thigh.” Your eyes go wide, shocked at his want to please you. “Want you to leave a mark on my grey joggers.”

You shudder, your nipples hardening and heat rushing to your core as he spoke. You nod, and he grabs your waist to pull you towards his thigh. Your skin against the soft fabric of his joggers, and the hard muscles of his thighs underneath, makes you want to collapse, but he kisses you, still gripping onto your waist to keep in control of your body. With your lips pressed against one anothers, you bite and nip at his skin, desperate for him to let you move. When he pulls away you pout, “Jungkook please” you beg him, he smiles.

“What do you want, Love” Jungkook teases, as if he hadn’t been the one to suggest this.

“Wanna ride your thigh” you whisper, looking away from him as you speak.

“You do huh” he taunts, you're hot all over from the embarrassment of it. You hum anyways.

“Good girl,” he lets go of your waist, sitting back and resting his hands behind his head, relaxed as you slowly grind yourself against him. Trying not to moan, trying not to give him that satisfaction, because damn you’d never done anything like this before and it felt so good. He watches your cunt as it glides against his bottoms, hoping to get a glimpse of the wetness you’d leave there.

“Do I feel good Y/N?” he asks, still watching as you rut against him.

“Always feel so good Jungkook” you reply, letting a small moan fall past your lips in the process. Only causing Jungkook to smirk in response. You could tell he liked getting you off. “Do you like making me cum jungkook?”

“I do, could watch you cum every minute of every day.” he reaches forward, grabbing hold of your hips and helping you move on his thigh. The weight he applies onto your hips only increases the friction of your clit rubbing against his thigh. You shift your knee, grinding it against his clothed dick everytime you move forward on his thigh. “Fuck” he says, hissing though his teeth. From your mouth falls a constant chant of “oh my god, oh my god jungkook” in a repetitive circle.

“This is going to make me cum in my boxers” he tells you, throwing his head back in pleasure, though quickly correcting himself when he realises he couldn’t see you with his eyes on the ceiling. You quickly make it your main priority to rub your knee against his confined cock, angry against the confinements of his boxers and joggers.

The two of you are a moaning mess, receiving pleasure from each other in the weirdest way. You had never done anything so wonderful in your life. The warmth and firmness of Jungkook under you, the way your bare knee brushed his clothed dick.

“Jungkook-” you try to warn him, but you can’t speak, out of breath from the effort and pleasure of it.

“I’m close too” he mumbles, his ears red underneath his shaggy hair. “You’re so hot, so sexy for me.”

You whine. “So good for me, my good girl.” the imprints of his nails will surely be embedded into your skin for days.

He’s just rambling because he's close to orgasm, but his words only make your release closer and closer. “Jungkook please” you say, though you don’t know what you’re begging him for.

“Damn it, I am cumming” he says, his hands still helping you grind against him. He throws his head back, and your orgasm hits when you see the dark patch of his cum stain the inside of his joggers. You sudder, hardly able to hold yourself up on his leg, you collapse forward, almost feeling like the world has paused for this moment where your mind goes blank of everything but complete bliss and satisfaction. It pauses for you and Jungkook, who runs circles on your waist with his thumb as you come down from your high. It feels like stepping off a rollercoaster, when your heart is still viciously beating.

You’re breathing in sync with Jungkook until you both return to normal. Suddenly feeling one of your thighs cramping you sit up and use Jungkook's shoulder as an anchor to stand up. He hisses, cursing under his breath.

“Y/N, take my phone”

You do, standing up on wobbling legs. “Take a picture of me from my stomach downwards”

At first you weren’t sure why, but once you took a few steps back you could see. His left thigh, where you had been grinding against him, was stained a darker grey due to your wetness, and his crotch is wet from his cum. He looked like some kind of sex god. You snap a picture, wobbling back to him and passing him back his phone.

“Might send this to your creep of a boss so he knows you’re mine.”

mini taglist:

@hoseokgrecns @chimmisbae @kkhope @hoseok666 @crazyforbangtan

ty all <3

#jungkook x y/n #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts #jungkook imagine #bts imagines #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan

2K notes · View notes

aoioozora · 1 year ago

Note

THIS IS SO AMAZING OMG (talking about the Simon fanfic btw) YOU JUST EARNED A FOLLOWER ❤️❤️ we'd really appreciate it if you did a part 2? 🥹 Take care

Simon.

Part 2

Chapters Masterlist

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: I was never planning on making this a series but here we go, I guess I'm invested too now >:) thank you for requesting and following! While this series is fluff only, I have a small warning for this part: there's swearing, crude jokes. And possibly incorrect usage of Scottish and English slang. Enjoy :) Photo credit: mus

“It's pishin’ it doon out here.”

Simon looked at his friend and sighed, “English, MacTavish.”

MacTavish groaned. “It's raining fuckin’ hard.”

“Then say so.”

“I did!”

Simon and his friend, John MacTavish or ‘Johnny’, as he was affectionately called, found themselves standing under the shade of a book café, helmets in hands, watching Simon's bike get drenched in the heavy rain. Neither of them expected a downpour, and were caught without raincoats. And so the two had no choice but to wait it out.

“It was yer bloody brilliant idea to go on a road trip when I warned ye that it was gonna rain today,” Johnny griped, crossing his arms as he shook the rain water off his helmet.

Simon didn't say a word. He copied Johnny in getting the water off his helmet, except that he wiped it off with his hand. As he hung his head down to do so, his messy blond hair fell over his eyes, and he shook his head to get it out of the way. He wiped his hands on a handkerchief to dry them, and then pulled his mask down below his nose to inhale a fresh gulp of the cold, wet air. When he had inhaled enough, he pulled the mask back on, and his eyes wandered to his motorcycle, which was surrounded by a foggy haze in the rain.

His mind wandered to that night he saved a young lady off the dangerous streets. He remembered how he saw her from afar, and without a second thought, sped up to her assailants, half-intent on actually flattening them into crepes. He remembered how his engine pounded as adrenaline charged his blood, as he twisted the accelerator to full throttle, sending the vehicle flying.

A pretty lady he thought she was. He didn't know why he called her his girlfriend; his brain decided that being a boyfriend was the second most powerful thing a man could be, the first being a husband. No other men would mess with another man's woman, that was for sure, unless he had a death wish. She acted well too, convincingly even.

He pulled out his phone and turned it around. Nestled beneath the clear casing was a small, clear candy wrapper, the same one that the pretty lady gave him that day. He didn't know why he felt the need to keep it, but did anyway. He definitely wanted something to remind him of her.

He had been in anguish ever since he dropped her off and rode away; he had completely forgotten to ask for her name. But who does that? They were strangers. What are the odds that two strangers would meet again?

“I'm heading inside,” Johnny announced, “I want a coffee.”

“Get me some tea.”

“Fuckin’ Brit.”

Simon was about to correct Johnny by telling him that Scotland, where he was from, was also part of the British isles, but he bit back, not wanting to risk hearing a rant in exclusively colorful, and totally family friendly Scottish words and phrases.

“Fine, I'll do it myself.” Simon rolled his eyes and followed Johnny inside the book cafe.

The two men sat at a table and while Johnny peered into the menu, Simon sank back into the comfortable chair and looked at the yellow bulbs hanging overhead, casting a soft, golden glow on the smooth wooden tables, the floors, and the cutlery. The smell of coffee, cakes, and books filled the air, along with the soft ruffle of pages, clinks of tableware and cups and saucers, and the distinct murmurs of his friend across him as he figured out what coffee he wanted to have.

A waiter came by to take their orders, and the two were soon left to their own, sitting in unusual silence as they stared out the glass windows at the relentlessly pouring rain. While Johnny hummed a tune to himself, Simon, tired of looking at the downpour, decided to amuse himself with people watching.

He saw people working at their laptops, some reading and drinking, others chatting in soft murmurs, and staff doing their job.

His eyes fell on one particular lady who was seated at a table across the cafe, back facing him, busily working on her laptop. He felt his heart stop for a moment. Her silhouette was familiar, particularly her hair; it looked just like her. His heart pounded beneath his ribs.

He didn't realise how long he looked until Johnny's voice piped, “Wit ye lookin’ at?” which interrupted the momentary buzz of his thoughts.

Simon turned to his friend, who was looking at him with mingled curiosity and confusion. “Nothing.” he replied, shaking his head and hanging it down slightly to look away, but his eyes immediately darted to the lady, as if she was a strong magnet.

Johnny wasn't quite convinced, and he followed Simon's line of vision. “A lass,” he observed, smirking.

Simon glared at his friend, but it only made him chuckle. The two watched as she stood up for a moment and turned around, intent on walking to the shelves to grab a book. That's when Simon saw her face, and again, his heart seized.

“It's her.”

His breath lodged tight in his lungs and his body visibly stiffened. And the most unfortunate reaction of them all: his partially exposed cheeks had turned pink. His eyes were glued to her, and he was unaware that Johnny was still keenly observing him.

“Ye ken her?” asked Johnny, his smirk widening.

“You remember I saved a girl the other day?” He asked back.

“That's her?” Johnny whipped his head back again to take another gander at the lady.

She was furiously flipping through the pages of a hardbound book, as if desperately in search of something. Simon rested his elbow on the armrest of the chair and leaned his cheek on his fist; he watched with interest as she hunched over the book like a medieval scholar, and wondered what her occupation was. She went back to her seat, hunched over again, and the two men looked back at each other.

“Go talk to her,” Johnny challenged.

“No.”

“Keep bein’ a fuckin’ pussy and ye won't get to fuck that pussy, ye ken?”

Simon snorted at that, but then immediately and quietly hissed “Wheesht!” at Johnny to make him shut up, glancing back at the pretty lady. “Don't be disrespectful,” he added.

Johnny chuckled, ever amused at the fact that his Scottish vernacular was infecting the Englishman. He leaned forward, resting a hand on his knee, continuing to smirk, “Since when did ye care about respect, huh?”

Simon inhaled sharply, since he was getting increasingly impatient with Johnny and at the fact that he was running out of arguments. It was also a bit hard to argue in a place where you're supposed to be quiet.

“Just go already. I cannae see ye looking so stupid like this. The worst she can say is ‘fuck off’.” Johnny shrugged.

Simon shot his friend and unimpressed look, making Johnny snort. “That is the worst thing she can say, you wanker,” he said, now mechanically rising from his chair.

“Fuck off and get her number, ye gobshite, or else you'll just be wanking to her and not talking.” Johnny shook his head with a smirk and gave his friend a slap on the back as he passed him. Simon returned the gesture with a slap to the back of Johnny's head, particularly in annoyance at the latter part of his sentence.

While Johnny whined quietly from how hard a slap he had been dealt with, Simon's attention was drawn when he heard her voice again, sounding a little agitated. His head whipped towards her table, and yet again, she was being hit on by some guy, and clearly looked like she was uncomfortably fighting back his unwanted advances.

Simon glared at the man as he began his march. “If only she had a boyfriend by her side, a guard dog…” he thought to himself as he speedily, yet calmly stepped over to her table.

He went around some tables and emerged behind the man, towering over him. Before Simon was noticed by her, his hand came down heavily on the man's shoulder, making him flinch. Leaning down, he whispered as the man turned to face him, “What business do you have with my girlfriend?”

The man was met with Simon's glaring eyes that meant serious business. He froze up immediately.

“Babe, he was trying to hit on me even though I told him I wasn't interested,” the lady's voice resounded, and a quick glance at her told Simon that her eyes glimmered with recognition.

The “babe” made his knees weak for a moment, but he shook off the feeling and continued to glare at the man. No more words were needed. He immediately stood up from his seat and strode away, apologising without sincerity. When he was finally earshot, she sighed.

“You alright, love?” asked Simon with gentleness unusual to him, glancing around again to make sure the man was nowhere in sight.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she sighed, also looking in the direction the man left. She looked back at him and smiled brightly, “But what a coincidence. We meet again, Simon.”

“And I'm mighty chuffed about it.” he thought to himself as he nodded in response. “Funny coincidence, really. My friend and I were just about to leave on a small road trip and the rain,” he shook his head and clicked his tongue as he looked at the windows, “it rained on our parade, I guess.”

The unintentional pun made her giggle. Simon normally had a grip on his emotions, but that damned giggle threw off his train of thought. But regaining himself, he continued, “So we took shelter here, and I saw you. Thought I'd come talk and then I heard that guy trying to make a pass at you.”

She motioned to the chair for him to sit down, which he instantly did; he cursed himself for seeming so eager.

“You heard?” she asked with emphasis.

“Yeah?” he nodded, slightly confused as to why she zeroed in on that word in particular. “I was looking elsewhere, and then I heard you.”

She then glanced at her laptop for a moment and then pulled the screen down slightly so he wouldn't see what was on. As she did, she said, “I see. I'm lucky you came just then because I was having a hard time driving him away.”

“I could tell,” he answered slowly. He then decided to change the subject. “You come here often?”

“Yeah, every day. This place is calm and quiet and the atmosphere helps me work.”

“What's your job?”

“I'm an author.”

“An author?” he blinked in surprise. He didn't expect that. “What do you write about?”

“Fantasy and adventure… With a hint of romance.” She grabbed her tote that was on the table and pulled out a book from it, which she showed him. “This is my first published book.”

“No kidding?” He took the book in my hand. It was titled ‘Firefly Trails’, embossed in gold. The cover was matte, showing a dark forest trail dotted with glossy fireflies and their greenish yellow light. Below the title was her name, and he read it in his mind slowly, his eyes spending more time taking it in more than anything else on the cover.

“New York Times Bestseller.” he recited, smirking as he eyed the epithet on the top of the cover, “Don't they slap this on every book?”

“They do, but this actually did pretty well in New York.”

“So you're famous then?”

“Kind of?”

“Tell me your Instagram handle, I'll need to see for myself.” Simon pulled out his phone and looked at her, waiting for her to tell him.

She did. He immediately typed it out on the search bar and while he did, he rested his elbow on the table, holding his arm upright. His neck was craned upward slightly, and the lady couldn't help but stare at the way his Adam's apple moved as he gulped, and the way the sternocleidomastoid muscle tightened and popped from under his fair skin as he moved his neck.

Her analytical, authorly eyes scanned him keenly, soaking in all she could make of his facial features; at his icy blond hair, short and styled in an undercut; his long eyelashes, his shapely eyebrows, his slightly pink cheeks under the black mask, the way his brown eyes reflected against the blue light of the phone screen; it was all a sight to behold. He was saying something, but her mind was so lost in trying to mentally string words together to describe the view in front of her in the most superfluous manner possible, in hopes that this information would be used in her future works.

“Hey, you really are famous. You got quite a tonne of followers.” Simon, who was highly aware of her shameless staring, somehow managed to interrupt her flow of thought.

She was successfully brought back to Earth from her daydream, and she nodded, now embarrassed to have been caught red-handed. He thankfully made no comment on it, not wanting to make things awkward.

She answered, “I suppose so. But they're not as many as bigger authors. I'm not complaining, though. I'm really happy to have a lot of people liking my work.”

“You're too modest,” he said, and she could see his cheeks rise to his eyes just a wee bit behind his mask, indicative of a smile. He now showed her her Instagram page on his phone. “There, I followed you,” he said, pointing at the grey ‘Following’ button.

“Are you sure? You don't look like the type of person who reads or is interested in author updates.” A slightly teasing smirk tugged the corner of her lips.

Simon chuckled and shook his head slightly, making his short hair swish a little; she took notice of it. “I'm a voracious reader,” he bragged, lying through his teeth, even using a fancy word to make it more convincing.

She smiled, clearly not quite convinced, but decided to humor him anyway. “If you are, then that book is a gift for you.” She glanced at the copy resting on his lap.

“No kidding?” he blinked as he took the book in his hand to gaze at it. “Well, since you're so famous, I think I should get your autograph.” he said, and she could see one of his cheeks raised; an unmistakable smirk.

“Oh, come on, you're making me blush,” she giggled, but took the book anyway.

"My intentions exactly," he thought as he watched her grab a pen and start writing on the first page.

His phone buzzed a message in the meantime, and he took the device to have a look. It was Johnny. He glanced at the other end of the cafe at his friend, and found him staring, finishing the last sips of his coffee.

Johnny MacTavvy: oi yer tea's getting cauld

Johnny MacTavvy: Rain's stopped too. Let's go

Simon now looked out the glass windows and the rain had indeed stopped, and a bit of sunlight was peeking through the cloudy skies. He sighed, not wanting to go just yet, but knowing Johnny wouldn't let him tarry any longer, he quickly typed a reply, which Johnny saw immediately.

Fuckin’ Brit: ok

By the time Simon kept his phone in his pocket, the lady finished her autograph and handed the book to him. “Enjoy.” She smiled.

Simon murmured a “Thanks” as he received the book, and then rose from his seat.

“Leaving already?” she asked, looking a little disappointed.

“Yeah, my friend's annoying me to finish my tea so we can be on our way. The rain's stopped now, so…”

“Okay,” she nodded slightly, glancing out the windows to confirm for herself. Looking back at him, she smiled again, “Take care then.”

“You too,” he inhaled. “Make sure you don't get hit on again,” he said, attempting to be casual and funny, but he felt like his attempt turned out to be so stupid.

She shook her head, scoffing and smiling. “I'll be fine.”

He was relieved that the attempt landed safely despite the turbulence, and he sighed. “Right then, I'll see you inna bit, love.”

“See you, Simon.”

He nodded once at her and then strode back to Johnny, feeling his knees get weaker by the second. He managed to reach his table and practically fell down in his seat.

“Well?” asked Johnny with a smirk as he leaned forward and eyed the book in Simon's hand. “She gave ye a gift, I see.”

“She's an author. Her first book.” Simon answered, handing him the book so he could see it.

“For real?” Johnny took the book and flipped through the pages. The autograph on the first page caught his attention and he read it. His eyes widened slightly and he closed the book, returning it to his friend, who was drowning the lukewarm tea. “He completely forgot, didnae he, this bastard.” Johnny muttered under his breath, smirking.

“What was that?” asked Simon, setting down the teacup.

“Nothing. Let's go.”

The two paid for their drinks and as they stepped out the door, Simon glanced back at her, and saw that she was also looking at him over her shoulder. This time, he felt a bit fluttery in his stomach. She waved at him with another of those pretty smiles and he waved back, already feeling his knees go weak again.

The two turned away and exited the book cafe. While Johnny wiped the rainwater off the motorcycle, Simon took a moment to see what she had written as an autograph.

“Dear Simon, thank you for saving me twice. I hope you enjoy the book,” was written, and along with that was her name and signature.

Below that was written in unmistakably bold and clear letters, “Call me,” along with her number.

Simon felt like he had been struck by lightning. His face turned alarmingly red and hot to the point that he scrambled to pull his hood over to hide himself. “Fuck me…” he mumbled his exclamation as he processed this very clear green light from her. It was unbelievable.

In the meantime, the lady herself couldn't believe this whole thing just happened. He happened to be there, came up to her, saved her, and swooped her off her feet the second time. It was an amazing coincidence, a once in a lifetime incident, something straight out of a novel. And being an author, she couldn't let this go. She just had to shoot her shot by slapping her phone number in the autograph and now hope that he would call her.

But if there was one thing that sold her completely, it was the fact that he heard that she was in trouble, and came to her rescue.

Feeling a flutter in her chest, she looked back at her laptop screen. A Google search result was displayed in bold:

“The name Simon means ‘to hear’.”

End of Part 2.

Part 3

343 notes · View notes

mooncalvin · 2 years ago

Text

Across the hall (pt. 2)

Summary: just George and you getting to know each other a bit better.

Warnings: pure smut. Choking kink, Dom!George, and much more.

Words: 4k

A/n: I'll leave this here and go back to my cave. I just finished uni and now I have much more time for writing so let's just see how it goes. Hope you like this very much!

A few days later you two meet at the same caffee of the last time.

“So what about Georgie?”

You flush once again “I mean, he is really nice, I don’t really know much about him”

“It’s not like you have to know an awful lot of someone to want to fuck them” she stated “By the way, I think he likes you too, we went to see him on Tuesday and he couldn’t shut up about you and your paintings, and he isn’t really an artsy guy, you know?”

“But before this , he barely even looked at my direction, I’m sure he didn’t even know I existed”

“Girl! The only reason I went for sugar to your house is because he said you looked nice and didn’t want to go by himself, we weren’t even baking a cake” her answer took you by surprise.

“Lily!”

You kept talking to her as the days went by, you were more similar than what you would’ve thought. But he wouldn’t stop bringing up George, dead-set on getting you two together.

You haven’t seen him since the last interaction at your apartment one week ago. So you were surprised when you saw him knocking at your door.

“Hi” you greeted him, failing to hide your smile “is there anything you need”.

“Not really” he answered “I thought it was only fair to invite you for coffee at my place since you invited me the other day.” he proposed to you shyly.

“Sure I would love to,” you said enthusiastically.

You walked to his flat, very different from yours, sober and modern style, almost impersonal, probably because he has recently moved in. You smiled when you saw some of his helmets and pictures of a much younger him from when he was in the lower racing categories.

“You were cute here” he smiled as a red layer covered his cheeks.

“Well, do you want to sit down? I can put on a movie or something while I prepare the drinks” he muttered.

“Yeah, sure”. After a while he returns and sits next to you, fairly close to you, but not enough. Neither of you started a conversation at first, feeling a bit awkward. It’s him who breaks the silence.

“How is your artwork coming?” you turn to him to answer.

“I finished the piece I was working on when you visited, now I’m working on a personal piece.” he hummed and turned his gaze to the tv. A while after, you turn your head to discover him already looking at you. This man has to be interested in you, right? The looks he’s been giving to you since you’ve entered his apartment screaming “I’m thinking about fucking you right now”. He wouldn’t be smirking and staring at you if he didn’t want to sleep with you. But were you going to act on it? Hell no.

“So, you are a formula one driver” you stated.

“I am indeed” he answered.

“And how is it?” you asked, genuinely curious about it.

“Well, I’ve been racing all my life and formula one is the top of racing, so it feels like an actual dream but it also has its flaws. I don’t really like all of the press stuff and how paparazzis and magazines intrude into your private life, ” he said. You bite your lip while listening to him.

“If you don’t stop biting your lip like that I don't know how much more I could control myself” he mutters so quietly that you almost can’t hear him, but you do. Your eyes go wide as you freeze, watching how he licks his lips as he approaches you “God I want to fuck you so bad.”

All the breath leaves your body, heat rushing to your core. Your cheeks are bright red, heart shaking as you look at him.

He actually wants you. He wants to fuck you.

All you can do is look at him, muttering a quiet “George…” Before he is leaning over you, body pressing against yours, lips so close that you can feel his hot breath, hands gripping your chin. You can feel the slight hardness poking at your stomach so you look down briefly before looking into his eyes again.

George’s blue eyes stare into yours, watching your every movement. Your lips are practically brushing each other. And his hand goes to your hip, pressing you close to him. A moan escapes your mouth before his lips are fully into yours, silencing you.

It takes you a second to respond to the kiss. But then you feel his lips move against your and follow, kissing him with passion. Your hands come up to hold onto him. One pressing against his cheek and the other on the back of his head, so you can run it through his hair. He presses you harder against him as his other hand goes to your hair tugging it, leaving your neck uncovered, so he can start to kiss it and bite it.

He lets out a little moan when you pull his hair to bring your lips together again.

One of his hands moves up to your neck, wrapping around it and adding a light pressure. You take his bottom lip with your teeth , pulling back and biting down lightly before pulling away from his lips entirely.

He stares down at you, hand wrapped around your neck as you pant and whine, legs wrapped around him squeezing while you attempt to grind into him.

“Do you like it rough sweet girl?” A laugh escapes him, fingers pressing into your throat a little tighter for a moment, you moan out, nodding your head.

Right now you feel like you’ve never before, relinquishing all your control to George as your mind goes fuzzy and your pussy gets wetter.

Both of you moan when George grinds his cock straight into you, the friction scratching right against your clit.

He buries his head into your neck befores going upwars, his mouth coming to rest beside your ear.

“I’m going to take you into my room and I’m going to eat this pussy before fucking you raw. Is that alright darling?” your pussy clenches as and your head is nodding before he grabs you under your thighs and picks you up, walking through his apartment towards his bedroom.

You bounce on the bed when he throws you down, giggling while you lay there and stare at him.

He stands at the end of the bed, tall and imposing.

You watch as he takes off his t-shirt, his body skinny but full of muscle, wanting nothing more than to rip the rest of his clothes, but he is quicker as he grabs your legs and slides you down the bed.

“Do you want this sweetheart?” he stares down at you with a smirk, palming his erection through his trousers. You glance at him, nodding your head. “Words, darling”

“Yes,” you mutter.

“Yes what? Your eyebrows furrow, and you take a moment comprehending what you heard before you realise.

“Yes sir” you practically moan.

He lets out a groan at your words, hands rushing to undo your belt and take off your trousers, sliding them down your legs, leaving you in only your panties.

You’re grateful that you didn't choose to wear your teddy bear panties, maybe you knew that something like this could happen.

George moans when he sees your soaked underwear, a hand reaching your covered pussy. You whine and move your hips up, only hoping that he would do something else. “George…” Suddenly he is rushing to pull your pants down your legs, spreading them and throwing them over his shoulders as he kneels in front of you.

You lay there in anticipation as George lays open mouthed kisses on your thighs. He continues to tease you, coming closer to your core before moving away. Your whine at the teasing.

“So desperate for me, aren’t you?” When you look down at him, he’s still looking at you, lips puffy from all the kisses you shared. “If you beg me I might just consider going further love” he says before nipping the skin of your thigh.

Your legs tighten around his head “Please, George, please, I need it so bad”. He scoffs against your leg, a hand going up to caress your ass gently, before laying a smack onto it, making your hips buck into him.

“I don’t think I remember what I told you to call me, was it that?” He says sharply.

“Please sir…” you let out another whine as he licks a strip up your pussy, getting the attention you needed.

“You taste so good, sweet girl” he says before diving back and running his tongue all the way to your clit, sucking it.

You moan out, and your hands fly to tangle in his hair and pull. He lets out a moan and brings an arm to hold your hips down, continuing his duty.

You cannot stop moaning, a pressure building up your lower stomach as he continues with his torment.

He fucks you with his tongue, his nose digging into your clit, one of his hands harshly gripping onto your thighs as they rest on his shoulders. All you can do is look down and watch him, eyes almost closed because of the pleasure.

His hand releases your leg and comes to your pussy, one of your fingers sliding into it, making your grip on his hair tighten.

He puts another one not long after, curving both of them, hitting the spot that makes you see stars. He pulls his face away from you for a moment, his fingers still fucking you as he looks up at you, his chin covered in your slick. Your walls clench around his fingers, making him let out a laugh, motivating him to do it harder.

“Such a dirty little whore, aren’t you?” you tighten around his fingers as he says it, making him laugh again “You like that, don’t you? My little slut” you let out a moan indicating that you are going to come soon.

“I-I’m going to come” you stutter, not being able to form a coherent sentence.

“Yeah baby? Are you going to soak my fingers like the dirty girl you are?” you feel as he adds a third one, stretching you.

You moan as a confirmation, and he leans down again, sucking you hard as he continues pounding his fingers into you.

You feel your stomach pull tighter, as your release comes, moaning his name as you cum. Your legs shake, back arching as the pleasure invades you. That doesn’t make him stop, as he continues licking you through your orgasm.

He pulls away from your pussy, and lets his hand to his mouth, tasting your release as he lets out a moan.

He stands up fully, towering over you once again as you lay in bed, recovering from the orgasm that has just hit you.

You come back to earth as you feel him grab your waist and hike you up the bed, resting your head on one of the pillows that lies there. Then he dives down to connect your lips and your hands go up to wrap around his shoulders, nails digging into them. You continue to kiss as he grinds his erection over your pussy. You shake at the overstimulation, whining when his lips leave your mouth. You open your eyes to see him hovering over you, smirk on his face.

“From the moment I saw you I knew I had to ruin you” he says, eyes dark with lust. You moan at his words.

“Please fuck me George” you mutter, pulling him back down and kissing him fiercely. He pins your wrists to the bed, taking control.

He pulls away, releasing your arms and pulling you up so he can pull your shirt off, admiring your breasts in your bra before removing it. He pushes you back down and starts laying kisses across your chest until he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it lightly and pinching the other one with his hand. You moan, your hips grinding on him and hands on his hair as he continues to lap at your breasts, switching between them.

He pulls away and stares at you for a moment, “I’m going to fuck you so hard” he says before pulling away undoing his pants so he can push them and his underwear down, revealing his cock to you.

He’s actually bigger than you expected, precum dripping from his tip. You can’t help but moan at the sight as your legs open on their own, almost like a reflex, exposing yourself to him again.

He laughs at your eagerness. “You don’t mind if I fuck you raw, do you, love?” you shake your head quickly.

“Please I need to feel you inside me” You whine, becoming desperate for him. He smirks at you as he climbs the bed, crawling on top of you, getting himself between your legs, dragging his cock across your wet folds, making you leave a moan as he brushes your clit.

He grabs your legs, pushing them up slightly as he holds himself up on top of you, guiding the tip to your hole, pushing it slightly.

Both of you moan, your back arched at the feeling and your eyes closed. But they shoot open when you feel George wrapping one of his hands around your throat, adding a light pressure “that’s right babygirl” he whispers “keep your eyes open for me”.

Then he begins pushing in, your walls squeezing him as you struggle to keep your eyes open, gasping.

He mumbles a “fuck” and keeps pushing in, hand squeezing your throat slightly.

“Oh George…” you whine when he bottoms out, him fully inside you.

The feeling is just amazing. The stretch of his dick and the feeling of his hand around your throat sends you into a state of bliss, making you struggle to keep your eyes open.

George is not much better, his eyes are also closed as he refrains himself not to start pounding into you like some kind of animal, wanting to give you a second to adjust to his size before fucking you fully.

His eyes are open when he hears you mutter a little “please”. And he looks at your face as you stare up at him, begging him to move and fuck you.

He doesn’t waste a second, pulling out of you before sliding back in.

You both moan at the same time and he begins pushing in and out of your cunt, picking up his pace.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your hands come to grab his wrist as he continues to choke you, slowing your breathing in the most delightful way.

The coil is back on your stomach, this time faster than before. The feeling of his cock pushing against your walls is just as good as you had imagined, maybe even better.

You stare up at him as he pounds into you, his pace picking up as your eyes catch his. He slides the hand that was at your throat down your body until it reaches your clit, rubbing it.

“Open your mouth” he suddenly says. You can’t help but be confused, not really understanding why you should open your mouth, but you do it anyway. You watch as he spits in your mouth. “Swallow it”. You do it immediately, your pussy squeezing as he lets out a “good girl” after.

He lets out another moan before pulling out of you.

You whine at the emptiness, hands going to his arms before he’s grabbing you and flipping you over onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and pitching them up, hips in the air and face buried in the pillows.

George grabs onto your ass, kneading it before leaning down and biting you, spanking you after you let a little moan. “You’re just the perfect girl for me”. You hear him mutter before his hands go to your hips and he starts pushing his cock into you again, making you moan happily.

Now he goes pounding into you, pace fast and rough as he fucks you into the bed.

His cock glides in and out of you, the occasional smack on your ass as you moan out.

You feel so close to coming. “Harder George please!”, you call out, painting and gripping onto the sheets tight as his trusts get harder.

He grabs your hair, pulling until you’re leaning up on your knees, your back to his chest, hitting deeper with each thrust. You moan together, and you turn your face to his, your lips connecting in a sloppy but passionate kiss. Your hand cradles his head, the other grabbing his side, as he continues to fuck up into you.

You feel the coil tighten and tighten, bringing you closer to relief. And as if he had read your mind, George’s hand comes to your clit, making you cum all over him.

You moan loudly, body trembling as he continues to fuck you, your hand pullin his hair tightly, even louder when you feel the heat of his cum fill you as he comes inside of you, his own moans mixing with yours as he connects your lips again.

You keep kissing as you come down from your highs. Breaths steadying when you pull away from each other.

You stare into his eyes as he stares into yours, the both of you panting. A smile makes its way into your lips, one forming in his no long after. One of his hands comes to cradle the back of your head, pulling you into him to kiss you again.

He then slowly pulls his cock out of your pussy, making you whine at the feeling, already missing him. He gives you a short peck and helps you lay down on the bed before pulling away from you entirely.

“I’ll come back in a moment, love” he says. You nod and close your eyes as you feel the exhaustion creepin into you.

You don’t even know how long it went until George gets back. You feel him spread your legs a little before a wet cloth is cleaning away the cum that pools your pussy. You half open your eyes and watch him, a dizzy smile on your face at his caring actions.

He glances at you when he’s done, climbing back into bed next to you.

He pulls you into him, pulling you to rest onto his chest. You wrap your arm around him, squeezing harder when you hear his heart beating faster.

You feel him lean down and press a kiss to your head, sighing in contentment at the moment.

After what could have been hours but were just a few minutes settling after your littler encounter, you pull away from him a little bit, leaning up as you look at him, him looking back at you. A small smile rests on his face, and you lean forward to press a kiss to his lips, humming with joy as his lips press back.

When you pull away you look back at him.

It’s now or never.

“Would you go on a date with me?” you ask him, anxiety crippling.

He can’t help but laugh at your question.

“I’d love to go on a date with you”.

Taglist: @mysticalnightenthusiast @vildetry06 @rens-daylight

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #george russell imagine #george russell x reader #george russell smut #george russell fluff

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