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biblicallyaccuratebeskar · 2 years ago

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Metal Home

Read Chapter 6 Here

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Chapter 7/22: ~2K words

Trust

Months pass. He keeps his word and only takes non-Empire jobs. With me handling the ship, just like I predicted, his quota actually increases.

I’d only helped him on a handful of jobs, but I was getting better. With the two of us together we had managed to knock out a few more difficult bounties that had been gathering dust, like Xila. While I didn’t show my face much at Karga’s tavern, I heard from Mando that as a pair we were garnering a bit of a reputation. Karga, apparently, had silently picked up on the pattern of our jobs and was now seeking them out for us.

My parents always praised me on being a fast learner, and being a bounty hunter was no different. It helped that Mando, it turns out, was a fantastic teacher.

After my stolen blaster got busted during a particularly nasty job, he gave me a new one from his weapons closet. Whenever we could, he helped me learn how to shoot it at different angles and during hand to hand combat.

He always out-maneuvered me during our practice sessions, but he would teach me ways to take down larger opponents and use their weight against them. I knew how to fight, but practicing with another person was a different beast. It was invigorating, though, and I loved every minute and every surge of adrenaline.

The first time I pinned him on my own, I cleared a nearby tree of a flock of birds I yelled in triumph so loud. He tried to act aloof about it, but later he handed over a flask of whiskey when he passed by me going up to the cockpit for the night.

The next day he handed me a knife with a blindingly shiny blade. To my shock, he said it was beskar.

“It’ll cut through nearly everything. Every bounty hunter needs a good knife,” he said.

It immediately became my most prized possession.

He taught me about the bounties themselves, too, and I started to learn how to discern each one as a different target and customize our skills for the job.

“Ok, Maka Shreel. Tax evader with a history of armed robberies. Has an affinity for knives. What’s the plan?” he quizzed me for one hunt.

“Well, all of her past robbery offenses have been in enclosed spaces, like alleyways and,” I grimaced, “...latrines. So best bet is to wait until she’s in somewhere more open where she’s less effective with close contact combat. Either shoot from afar or catch off guard from behind.” I looked over at him expectantly.

He nodded. “Good. Good job.” I could here the smile in his voice and felt my cheeks grow hot.

Some days, when I finished maintaining the ship and he was out on a hunt, I would go into the nearest town or village and get supplies, but more importantly, get local food.

I would explore dozens of open markets, for once having spare credits to spend. Haggling with old men at food carts became the highlights of my trips. I’d make it my mission on each new planet to get something I’d never seen before. And of course, I’d always get two servings.

Over time we gradually fall into a pseudo-routine during meal times. I would usually eat outside, away from any chance of seeing his face. It made sense at first when I was still wrapped up in the novelty of such anonymity. But after a while, it became tedious and made less and less sense for me as we became, well, friends. Some of my greatest memories growing up with my family consisted of us sitting around a table and eating. The food I ate was always good, but the company and conversation was always better. I missed it desperately.

One day I was out on one of my shopping trips. The planet we were on was hot and humid, and the wafting smell of food cooking and

bundles of spices permeated the market I was wandering in. I ended up choosing a dish of carved meet smothered in a bright red sauce and on the way out I passed a fruit stand filled with wares that were completely new to my eyes. I chose two fruits that had a vibrant magenta rind, and started my way back to the ship.

Angry looking clouds swirled above while I was distracted by the spread, and a few drops of rain hit my head during my journey. Before I knew it, I was running like my life depended on it as the sky opened up. I had somehow managed to avoid the worst of it when I dove into the hull, the rain so thick I could hardly see past the opening.

There was no way I’d be eating outside.

Mando returned shortly after, droplets falling off his armor. He was empty-handed, but I wasn’t surprised. Some trips weren’t just for bounties, I’d learned. Sometimes he’d get a tip off about someone who knew something about someone. This was such an intel trip. He caught me moving two storage bins to the center of the hull. “What are you doing?” he asked, voice laced with slight amusement.

“I have an idea. You or I could eat in the cockpit, sure. But what if we eat back-to-back?”

He stiffened. I knew he wouldn’t like the idea, but I wanted to try anyway.

“I wouldn’t look, Mando, you have my word.”

He took off his soaking pack and put away his rifle, standing facing the wall for a moment. “Okay,” he said finally, nodding.

Shocked, a smile broke across my face.

“Okay. Okay! Here, I got this at a market. Nearly had to cut in front of an old lady to get the last serving.”

I handed him his portion and sat down, facing the exit of the hull completely away from him. He’d kept it open and I watched the rain form streams over the door, deeply inhaling the petrichor.

There was a soft clunk behind me. My heart skipped a beat when I saw a glint of beskar on the floor between us in my peripheral vision.

He wasn’t wearing his helmet. I was sitting right by him and he wasn’t wearing his helmet.

I didn’t know why I was suddenly so nervous, my heart hammering in my chest. Maybe I didn’t want to blow it, or maybe I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was because, for no reason at all, it just felt so intimate.

My stomach growled and I realized I hadn’t begun to eat. I shoveled a bite of the meat in my mouth and was met with immediate regret.

It was incomprehensibly spicy. I coughed and sputtered, fumbling for my water while still facing forward.

“You ok?“ he asked, letting out a soft laugh. The breath hitched in my throat.

“Larkin?” He sounded concerned now. “Yeah, yeah, it’s...it’s really spicy.”

He hummed a response.

A few moments passed. “I’ve never heard your voice without the modulator,” I whispered.

I continued eating, managing to choke down a few more bites without passing out.

“Is it...bad?” He sounded genuine, asking. For a big, bad bounty hunter he sure was funny sometimes.

I let out a laugh. “No! No, of course not, it’s just...new. It’s nice.” We continued eating. I noticed that he never once made any indication of the spice.

“How are you surviving this? I feels like someone set off one of your fancy charge bombs in my mouth,” I panted, taking another swig of water.

He laughed at that. Maker, his laugh sounded good out of his helmet. I liked it in general, actually. It wasn’t a belly laugh, not by any means, but it was strong in its softness, a little raspy. And rare. Beautifully rare.

“My mother cooked like this when I was young.”

I froze. Never once, not since that night on Jakku did he even allude to his family or his background. He’d seemed just about as open as a brick wall with that sort of stuff, so I never pushed. I didn’t even know his real name. There was a line I never crossed with him, never questioning too far so I could forge some sort of friendliness without animosity. And here he was, crossing the line unprompted to meet me on the other side.

“Yeah?” I responded.

“Yes,” he continued. “This is very mild, actually.” There was a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Mild? You really just said this is mild? Holy Maker, your tastebuds have been numbed.”

I leaned back and gently nudged my back into his as I reached for the fruit.

And man, am I glad I got them on a whim. They were delicious, rich and sweet, juice running down my chin.

“Have you tried this?” I muttered, slurping up extra juice.

“It’s okay.”

He was messing with me now, wasn’t he.

“Yeah, now I’m convinced your taste buds are numb. You’re lying if you say this shit isn’t life changing.”

He laughed again. In that moment I knew making him laugh was going to be my number one priority from then on.

Holy shit. The Mandalorian is my best friend.

——

A few days later we’d done it again and again, eating back to back. Another puzzle piece in our haphazard life on the Crest. It was good, having that little extra bit of camaraderie. I enjoyed his company. He was quiet most of the time, shy actually. The fiercest bounty hunter in the Outer Rim and living with him I could see how much he relied on his armor. It was all weirdly domestic. You know, minus the hunting, shoving bounties into the cryo before dinner part. One day while I was cleaning the hull and made it to the mattress. Running a rag over the storage below it, my hand felt a groove and I pulled. Out pops another mattress, just below the one I’d been sleeping on.

This whole time? There’s no way he didn’t know. He must have been held back because he didn’t want to be near me without his helmet. I could tell he was uncomfortable sleeping in the cockpit. There had to be something I could do. My eyes flicked to a jacket I had that got a hole blasted through the sleeve. I flicked out my knife.

——

“You’re not going to like what I’m about to suggest.”

As much as I enjoyed making Mando laugh, a twisted part of me also deeply enjoyed my direct influence on him letting out deep, heavy sighs.

“What is this about?” he said, gesturing to the newly opened mattress.

I held up the dark piece of fabric I cut and tied it over my eyes. “I can’t see anything right now. And there’s a spare mattress right there, calling your name. You see where I’m going with this?”

“No. I’m not going to sleep down here.”

“Oh c’mon Mando, I can tell your back hurts from those stiff ass chairs up there. And besides, if you stay down here-“

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I slowly took off the blindfold. Oh.

“I wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Really. I want you to be comfortable. You deserve rest.”

Another sigh. I smiled, knowing he’d given in.

——

That night I laid there on my mattress, vision dark under the blindfold. I could hear him moving around, heard him slowly take off his shoes. His armor. Turn into a man, not a hunter. My heart was beating again.

I felt him lay down in the mattress beside me and words didn’t even form in my mouth. It was like I couldn’t move.

I could tell we were both just laying there, trying not to fracture the fragility of the moment.

“This ok?” I whispered. It was so quiet I didn’t know he heard me. “Yeah.” For the first time ever, I heard fear in his voice, unfiltered by the helmet.

“Okay, good. We’re okay.”

“We’re okay,” he repeated softly.

I think he really meant it.

#metal home #din djarin #din djaren #din djarin x female oc #din djarin x oc #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #mandalorian slow burn #mandalorian x female oc #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian fic #mandalorian x oc #mandalorian x female reader

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spellbook-gayboy · 2 years ago

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ohhh 31 from this :3

31.

"...that's a compliment, I assume" Kyle replied slowly, unsure of what to make of his wife's comment. "Tha- that is a compliment, right?"

"Absolutely not, dear" Thula told him, her tone flat as if to illustrate her bluntness, but accompanied by a slight and warm smile as she caressed her husband's neck. "But... it is something that I find most endearing about you. And in two thousand years, you are the only man I've met that can make weaknesses seem attractive."

Kyle raised a brow. "I guess that's a compliment" he murmured, returning her gesture by moving his hands to her hips. "Or at least, I've heard a lot worse than that before"

"That's the spirit. Now then, if you're willing to be a good boy for me, then I am willing to..." Thula began to quietly whisper in his ear, but that particular temptation was soon drowned out by a muffled wailing from the next room. "Hrrm" she groaned, head falling against the old soldier's solid chest.

Kyle chuckled, his warm and quiet rumble soothing her disappointment as he patted her on the back. "Well, duty calls! Oh, and another thing, too," he told her as he moved from her grasp, opening the nearest door and stepping through. "I'm gonna have to... teleport in a few minutes, so just watch out for that"

He stepped into their shared bedroom, moving towards the bare, unpainted crib to the side of their four-poster. From it came more infantile whining, albeit a little more subdued than it had been before. He stood over the bundle of sheets therein, practically beaming down with adoration at the small human that bawled out for her father.

Ada had been quite the surprise on more ways than one. For starters, the first hairs on her little head were the same pale shade of wheat-like gold as her father, which was only a surprise since it was apparently impossible for a child of a Viltrumite to have any other colour than the typical silky black. Another and much more immediate surprise was that despite being barely five months old, the young hybrid had inherited a level of strength that rivalled even Kyle's, breaking his little finger when playfully grabbing it as any baby would. With all her power and uniqueness, it was no wonder that she would share a name with his late mother, a name befitting the strongest of the women in their family.

Kyle hoisted the small child out of the crib and onto his shoulder, supporting her in the way that the parenting manual had said was best. "It's alright, liebchen, Papa's here. Ooh, did you have a bad dream again? Poor thing!" he cooed, lightly bouncing her. The teary infant blindly struck his shoulder, her small chubby hand landing with enough to make him flinch from the fleeting sting, something that most supervillains couldn't manage when done deliberately. She was definitely going to be a handful when she was older.

The pocket of his sweatpants began to beep. The teleporter, no doubt. "And duty calls again. Uh, Thula, darling! Can you give me a hand here?"

His wife floated into view, touching the floor only so she could take their daughter from him. Unfortunately, the beeping chose that exact moment to increase in frequency, a sign that the teleporter was currently activating. “No, no, wait-!”

The feeling of being teleported was strange, to say the least. It was hard to pin down the best analogy, but the closest comparison that Kyle (as well as I, the writer) could make was that it was like walking through both a sauna and a massive refrigerator at the same time, coupled with a blinding white that simply seemed unnatural to the human eye. But it also died away as quickly as it had come on, leaving both parents and their infant daughter a long way away from their picturesque Kentucky farmhouse.

“Ummm... are we interrupting something private, patron?” came the voice of a fairly young man, his hazel eyes creased in slight confusion. Above his mop of curly brown hair sat a flag, though the nation to which it belonged Thula couldn’t remember. The others sat around the large table in front of them also had flags, but they were just as different from one another as the people themselves. “I can reprogram the teleporter to take your family back if you-?”

Kyle waved a dismissive hand, cutting short the man’s question as he pulled out from somewhere and pushed it next to a larger vacant seat at the round table. “No need, Luc. I’ve been planning to show Thula around for a little while now, actually!” he coolly answered, finally handing off Ada before sittting in the empty chair. It had a flag as well, the ‘star and stripes’ as he had often called it, but which Thula simply knew as the flag of their home. “Well, now that we’re all here, let’s talk business! Okay... Ife, you’ve been monitoring things in West Africa. What have you come up with so far?”

A different person stood up, a tall black woman with long braids that she brushed behind her shoulders as she began to speak. They weren’t half as long as the war-braid that Thula used to sport, but hers seemed more for decoration than for combat, thick and clearly well-maintained. She began to ramble about statistics or something along those lines, which she chose to tune out as she finally sat beside her husband. Ada was now limp against her shoulder, dribbling on her shirt as she quietly snored.

A hand locked with hers under the table, grip warm and tight. She could feel the slightly warm silver of Kyle’s wedding ring pressing against her skin. He was seemingly paying attention to what the younger woman was saying, but he also seemed to notice his wife’s eyes on him, squeezing her hand a small bit.

Maybe he could show her around later.

#guys look its that team i should be writing about more often!!#invincible #invincible show #invincible amazon #invincible oc #🦅🛡#🌍🦸#kyle washington #thula invincible #breakthrough team #my asks #summerfrwrks #writing prompt friday

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ssahotstuff · 2 years ago

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HOME: The Final Chapter

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Part 12 can be found here

Warnings: smut, general BAU chit chat, this chapter is pretty happy but there is some smut in a flashback in the beginning. Also childbirth but nothing descriptive.

HERE IT IS! The end! I put the epilogue in with this chapter so you have everything in one place. Didn’t feel like splitting it up. I hope you enjoy. This is the first thing I’ve ever actually finished in my life. I’d like to thank my medication for helping me this far, and everyone who has been patient with me thus far. I hope you enjoy.

Word count: 6.6 k

3 hours of pushing.

20 total hours in labor. You gave him almost nine months to live inside you, share your body. Nine long, stressful months of being pregnant and uncomfortable.

7000 hours of carrying this precious baby boy, and he looked exactly like Aaron. That was the first thought that crossed your mind as Dr. Sandra handed him to you, swaddled in a little blue striped blanket. Aaron was next to you, seated on the bed. His eyes were full of tears and love as he caught his first real glimpse of his second born.

"He's perfect."

All you could do was nod your head in agreement. He was more than perfect. He was the missing link that completed your family and made your house a home.

"Does he have a name?"

Dr. Sandra was finishing her paperwork so she could leave you and Aaron alone to rest. You'd been up nearly a day and a half, and you were both exhausted. You weren't even sure of the time; you knew it was early morning because the sun was beaming through the window. You didn't care about the time. All that mattered was in a few short hours, Jack would be joining you and you'd have your boys together for the first time.

"I told you, final decision is yours," you reminded him, the two of you glued to the bundle of beauty in your arms.

"I like the first name we picked. Night after Christmas. Do you remember? When we first tossed around the idea of you quitting your birth control?"

"Seriously, I think you'd feel a lot better if you quit taking it. The side effects are horrible," Aaron was reading information about your birth control, his brain fuzzy with all things baby. Maybe it was the wine— it was your second night in the cabin, and after dinner, and a handful of orgasms, you'd decided you were going to quit the pill.

"I'll quit today, I usually take it before bed."

"Good idea. Now the next time we have sex, we can fuck with a purpose," he chuckled, pulling you into his lap. You were on one of seven couches, piled up by the fire, keeping each other warm. It had been a day of doing absolutely nothing but each other—from the shower to the stairs, you'd been all over one another.

"We already do that," you giggled, brushing your nose against his in a featherlight motion. Before you could pull away, he was bringing you to his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you. You always felt so safe when he held you; part of it had to do with the obvious fact that you were crazy about him. Every fight, every long night worrying about him, it was all worth it. It always would be, because there was no one else you'd rather do this with.

And then there was the not so obvious; he was so much bigger than you. His frame towered over yours, swallowing up your shadow and leaving nothing but the tall, strong and so fucking sexy man that was Aaron Hotchner. He made you feel dainty but you were teeny tiny compared to his broad, solid body. He could pin you down with this body effortlessly if he wanted to; as long as it was him you were beneath, you'd do anything he asked.

"What are you thinking?”

"That I love being in your lap, but being under you is my favorite," you admitted, cackling when Aaron surprised you by flipping the two of you over so he could hover above you. Your legs were tangled together, his arm cradled under your head.

"Better?"

"Perfect."

His mouth was on yours before you could get the final syllable out, tongue invading your mouth and his hands exploring your body.

"You're perfect. I'd worship you if you'd let me," he breathed, your nipple hardening beneath his fingertips. You could see the faint outline of his hands, dancing deliciously on your breasts as you whimpered, absolutely helpless when it came to him. He turned you into a puddle in more ways than one. From his words to the way he was able to touch you and send you spiraling, he was seductive in the most fascinating way. You hadn't recalled a time even now that he had to try; his confidence and his personality were hard to resist.

"I won't stop you," you panted, using your own hand to guide his toward your panties. He liked it when you expressed your neediness; and god, did you need him now more than ever.

"Do something for me," it wasn't a question, but a command. You nodded, completely powerless. You understood exactly why he was in charge at work; he could convince someone to stand on their head if he set his mind to it.

"Anything."

"I'm going to keep my hand right here on top of yours, just like this."

He used his hand to lead yours until you were inches away from your core, brow furrowed in impatience.

"I want to feel you, the way you touch yourself," he explained, a sheepish grin on his face as he stared down at your hands, lingering over your clothed center. You let him use his free hand to tug your knees apart, licking his lips at the sight of you spread open for him.

"We have to get these panties off," he groaned, pulling them down just enough to expose you. He returned his hand to cover yours so you could finally relieve some of the ache you were feeling between your thighs. With his index finger blanketing yours, you let him feel how drenched you were, clenching around nothing as your desire grew for him. As much as you wanted to be a tease, your clit was throbbing and you were blinded by Aaron's more than erotic request to feel how you pleasured yourself.

"Good girl, that's it. That's exactly what I wanted to feel, sweet girl."

Your arousal soaked your fingers and his as you rubbed slow circles on your clit, a sigh of relief escaping your lips at the contact. He was grinding his hips against you, rutting them against you for any sort of friction as you played with yourself. It was driving him absolutely mad, the way you'd spread your swollen lips open and direct all of your attention to your throbbing clit, aching to have his fingers replace yours.

"Feels so good, Aaron," he let his hand fall to your entrance, slipping his fingers inside of you without a second thought.

"Don't you dare stop. I'm just going to help you a little. You're soaked, sweetheart. I can tell how badly you need me," his fingers began to pump in and out of you, curling upward inside of you, blinding all of your senses as you clenched around his fingers. You couldn't help it; you were blinded by your arousal as you climbed on top of him, stroking his length with your dainty hand.

"Going to show me how badly you need it, Angel?" You lined him up with your center and wasted no time sinking down on him; the groan that left your lips had him smirking up at you, bucking his hips wildly into you as you tried to steady yourself. You put your hands on his chest and began to bounce, making his mouth fall open slightly as he gripped your ass, guiding you onto his cock at the perfect speed. You didn't even have to move, you simply sat up a little on your knees and let him pound into you from below, your nails digging into his shoulders as the pounding of your skin echoing throughout the massive cabin.

"Stay right there, sweetheart," he slowed down considerably, watching his dick slip in and out of you slowly, meticulously, as if he'd planned each thrust precisely to give you exactly what you needed; him in the most primal way. He had tunnel vision when he got mine this; the only thing on his mind was making sure you remembered why you'd given yourself to him in the first place. There was no one else that could give you the satisfaction that you needed, no one else that could be your physical comfort the way that he could. You were bound to him in a way that neither of you could explain; it was like he was your source of gravity, keeping you grounded when he needed to but taking you far beyond the normal heights of pleasure when the timing was right. As you found your high, you hoped that the rest of your life would look like this: nights of perfect bliss spent with Aaron, both of you so deeply in love that the problems of the world didn't matter as long as you were together.

He came shortly after, determined to put a baby in you before you returned home. The thought of carrying his child was an overwhelming one; it solidified the love you had for him, and brought the two of you closer. You'd been talking about it all day, lost in the daydream of planning a pregnancy together. It was all fantasy for now, but you could see it as plain as day: a growing bump, a nursery full of clothes, and a house full of love. Jack would have someone to play with, and your home would be filled with laughter for the rest of your days.

He helped to clean you up and rejoined you on the couch, wrapping you up in a blanket as he handed you a glass of wine.

"What are you thinking?" His voice cut through your thoughts, filled with all things baby.

"I just really love the idea—"

"Of you being pregnant? I can't stop thinking about it either," it was as if he'd read your mind, and when he realized he was exactly right, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter like never before. You'd gotten to see more of how sweet he could be on your vacation, and you were soaking up every second of it.

"For future reference, I'm only good at boy names," he admitted, and your mental list of names was far longer for boys than it was for girls.

"I feel like boy names are easier. I want a boy," you confessed, and his eyes lit up, twinkling in the glow of the fireplace.

"Me too. But I don't mind either way. A tiny you would be fun," he chuckled, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you in.

"But think of all the fun Jack can have with a little brother," Jack would be elated to become a big brother; you had no doubt about it.

"Well, he'd need a name," Aaron's sly grin only grew wider as you both entertained your future together.

"I like the idea of letting you pick his first name. You deserve that," he'd told you once before about how he had no say in choosing Jack's name, and you told yourself then if the chance ever came, you'd let him pick.

"Really? I'd like that a lot. You can pick his middle name then," he agreed, but you already had a middle name in mind to suggest to him later, once he'd chosen.

"You get full reign of naming the hypothetical baby," you giggled, and he brought you into his lap, his hand falling to your stomach.

"God, can you just imagine? I'm dying to see you pregnant," his mouth met yours, arms wrapping snugly around you as he cuddled into you.

"Well, after today, I'd say we're off to a pretty fantastic start," you chuckled, because that's what you'd spent all day doing: practicing.

"I like the name Leo," he said suddenly, and you were quick to agree with him, because you liked it too.

"Leo is cute. Short and simple."

"It means brave," he told you, and you thought it was perfect. A brave, beautiful Hotchner boy, just like his father and brother.

"Leo Andrew Hotchner."

✨✨✨

By the time your hospital stay was over, you were starting to adjust to not sharing your body anymore. It was an incredible feeling to have him in your arms, to be staring at his dark head of hair rather than imagining what he'd look like. Aaron and Jack had just fallen asleep on the couch, laid out next to one another while you rocked Leo in the rocking chair across from them. Once he fell asleep fully, you'd lay him down, but his eyes had just started to close, and he looked so precious that you just couldn't tear yourself away from him.

You should've been taking Aaron's advice and sleeping when Leo slept, but the three of you had been surviving on takeout for too long, and your family deserved a decent meal, so you put Leo in his bassinet just outside of the kitchen, so you could still see him, but he was far enough away that the noise wouldn't bother him too much.

You set to work making Jack's favorite: pizza. You wanted to remind him that even though Leo was around, he was still your big boy, and you still remembered all of his favorite things. You'd been talking with Dr. Reid regularly, and he'd advised you to remind Jack of his importance the first few days of having Leo home, so he didn't feel left out. You'd already planned to watch a movie with him and Aaron while you ate dinner, so you could multitask and still fit everyone in to your new mom schedule.

Homemade pizza was Jack's favorite thing that you knew how to cook, and you loved being able to make it for him. He especially loved pizza and movie nights, and you hadn't had one altogether in longer than you could remember, if you ever had at all. It wasn't rare that things were slow like this, but since Aaron's retirement and the promise to be around all the time, he'd been appreciating things more, making time to do things he hadn't before. You hadn't seen him happier than he was when he got to bring you all home.

"What happened to taking things easy once you got home?"

You were sliding the pizza pan into the oven when Aaron came up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist. As you stood back up, he was kissing your cheek, turning you around to face him.

"Sweetheart, you barely slept in the hospital. Please let me finish this and try to relax some. Go lay with Jack and let me do this," you didn't need to be told twice, you sank into the cushions after moving Leo within arms reach, letting his tiny hand wrap around your finger as you drifted off to sleep for the first time in days.

It was dark when you woke up, Jack still snoring lightly next to you. Aaron was pacing the floors, rocking Leo gently. It was a precious sight, one you'd been waiting almost 9 months to witness. He was talking to Leo, too quietly for you to hear, but you knew by the smile on Aaron's face that he was enjoying every second of having Leo here finally.

"Has Jack been here this whole time?" You slowly raised up from the couch, careful not to wake him. Luckily it was summer or else his entire schedule would've been thrown off from such a long nap.

"He hasn't budged. I think he was just happy to be back with you."

The days away from him that you'd spent in the hospital had been hard. Your emotions were all over the place, and you had missed Jack terribly. You felt incomplete without both of your babies around, so you weren't truly able to settle until you were all back under one roof.

"This little guy is all smiles," Aaron's own smile was contagious as he showed off a sleeping Leo, who was undoubtedly grinning from ear to ear in his fathers arms.

"I'm so glad we're all home. It really helps all the new mom jitters knowing that you're home to stay."

You were thrilled that you wouldn't be overwhelmed with doing everything alone, and Aaron would always be around to help.

"No reason to be nervous, Angel. I'm here."

Jack was beginning to stir, mumbling and turning in his sleep. You were starving, so you went to the kitchen to warm dinner back up. Sure enough, there was an entire untouched pizza in the fridge.

"You could've ate without me," he was already standing in the doorway as you preheated the oven, padding over to you once he'd laid Leo back down.

"Wanted to wait. We haven't had real dinner together in at least a week. Just takeout in the hospital. We'll put on a movie and cuddle up on the couch with Jack," he had the same idea as you, sending you back to the living room so he could remake dinner. Jack was up, beaming at you, still trying to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

"We did a big sleep," he giggled, and you opened your arms for him to climb into. He was careful with you, just like his dad explained he needed to be for the next couple of days. You were still on the mend, and tender in places you wouldn't normally be. Aaron had thought of nearly everything though, a heating pad when your back would hurt, ice packs for times when you needed soothing. He had been so attentive to everyone's needs, and you were so grateful for him.

"We did. If you're up for it, we made pizza. I thought me, you and dad could watch a movie together," he nodded, so you sent him to change into comfy clothes while you waited for him, scanning the shelves to see what you could watch. His new favorite was Spider Man, so you popped it in the DVD player and waited on everyone to get finished with what they were doing. You could hear Aaron clattering around in the kitchen for dinner and snacks, and Jack humming lightly in his bedroom as he chose pajamas for the night. Leo was sleeping quietly in his bassinet, his little hands up by his face. He looked peaceful.

Jack climbed into your lap at the same time Aaron joined you with pizza. Jack looked quizzically at his father, who was letting him eat in the living room.

"We're celebrating being home, we don't always have to use the table," he told him, which satisfied Jack enough to take a giant bite of pizza as the movie started.

With everyone you loved in one room, your heart had never been so full. You looked at Jack, sat in between the two of you, who had a normal family for the first time in his life. You were blessed to get the chance to be his bonus mom, and now you'd given him a best friend for life. And Aaron, who's cheeks must've been sore from all of the smiling he'd been doing since he came home. For the first time in his life, he wasn't having to worry about what dangers lurked in the dark anymore. It was going to be nothing but happy memories from here on out.

And little Leo.

Your pregnancy had been a scary one, more than you ever could've imagined. But it was more than worth it to have your little boy here with you, under the watchful gaze of his parents that would defend him and his brother against anything that stood in their way.

You deserved it: the happy ending. You deserved the sunshine filled days and the laughter from the playroom echoing through the house. You had earned the fridge full of drawings addressed to 'mom' and the charm bracelet on your arm that Jessica and Jack had chosen for you for Mother's Day. You had fought the toughest battles that could've possibly came your way, and you came out victorious every single time.

You had learned what it was like to be stronger than what you were dealt in life. You hadn't given up, and now you had nothing but love to show for it. You had suffered a tremendous loss when Beau died, and truthfully, the loss had taken a part of you with him. But you were mending, one day at a time with the help of Aaron and your babies. Your life up until this point was spent running from the past: from your mother, from the children you were forced to raise. Now that you were secure under Aaron's arms, nothing could take away your perfect slice of heaven.

Aaron's hand squeezing yours from across the back of the couch was the only reminder that you'd ever need again. There had been times you thought you might not survive the heartache, the pain that you'd endured, but now, with your babies close enough for you to see their sweet faces, and Aaron tuned in to the television, it was all worth it.

You were home.

Epilogue

"I can't believe my eyes! You look absolutely gorgeous!" Penelope was the first to see you in your dress, JJ and Emily rushing in after all of the commotion. Emily stopped in her tracks as she took you in, her eyeliner already a smudged mess. You had agreed upon simple; the dress was elegant and flowy, but still simple. The satin material clung to your body, the thin straps crisscrossing behind your back. Penelope had assisted with your hair and makeup, and despite her bold choices, she'd went subtle for you; you felt incredible. You were elated to be marrying Aaron, to become Mrs. Hotchner.

"You sure have came a long way from tapping on my window."

You gave her a warning look not to ruin both of your faces and she zipped her lips dramatically before crossing the room to hug you tightly.

"You make the most beautiful bride."

JJ and Penelope were quick to agree, putting the final touches on your hair and makeup as they crowded around you in Dave's spare master bedroom. Aaron was on the other side of the house somewhere getting ready, and you couldn't wait to finally see him. You'd been away from him since early that morning, Spencer and Morgan tag teaming the kids with Sean so you two could get ready. Your next stop was to check on Jack and Leo, who was beginning to toddle, and was not exactly the most graceful.

"Okay, before I see my man, I need to check and make sure my boys are okay," you politely excused yourself to go a few rooms over, the sound of your babies playing behind the door making your heart grow ten sizes.

"Wow, look at you, mama!" Derek twirled you around, and Jack stared back at you in awe, his eyes twinkling just like his fathers.

"We're all dressed like this because you're gonna kiss dad in front of everybody!" Jack announced, making Leo do his favorite thing in the world: clap his hands. You scooped him up, careful not to get anything on your dress, but you were shut down just as fast by Sean, who was snatching him right back from you.

"I'm under strict orders from your husband to be not to let you lift a finger," you rolled your eyes playfully at him, who was proving to be quite the brother in law. He and Penelope had offered to tag team with the kids at your house for the weekend so Aaron could take you on a mini honey moon.

"Your brother would never let me pick anything up again if it were up to him," it was almost time, Dave making his rounds in the hall to gather everyone up. Sean took Leo and went to find a seat, and Emily, JJ and Penelope came to find you to wish you luck before they were finding seats too. The only person left behind was Jack, who had graciously volunteered to walk you down the aisle.

Truthfully, you always thought it would be Ben walking with you when you finally tied the knot, but you hadn't heard anything from him since your mother had died and he'd went back home. You knew she left everything to him, so you hoped he took it and did something with his life without your mother to hold him back. He was getting the fresh start he deserved too, but unfortunately that meant being away from each other forever.

When you aren't raised in normal, you're not living anymore. You're simply trying to survive. It took you years to stop that nasty habit, going through the motions from day to day; but now that you were living, life was a much brighter place. You had two beautiful children, and you were about to marry the man who'd been giving you the world for the last 11 months. You'd wanted to wait until life wasn't so hectic to get married, and when Dave suggested having a ceremony at his house, it seemed like the perfect idea.

The garden was lit up beautifully, the sun had just set beyond the horizon, and a tiny hand was clutching yours, Jack was keeping your nerves at ease.

"I almost forgot mom!"

He slid you a piece of paper from his back pocket, your name neatly written on the front in Aaron's handwriting. You had less than five minutes until you were due to meet him at the end of the aisle, so you unfolded it, scanning the page quickly before it was time for you to walk.

I know we agreed to traditional vows in front of everyone else, but you deserve more than traditional after everything you've sacrificed for our family. I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather give my last name to. You have amazed me everyday for almost two years now, being the most perfect mother our children could ask for, and the best partner I could've hoped for.

I know it hasn't been easy. I know I put a tremendous amount of stress on you by not being around, and even though we don't live like that anymore, I want to thank you for sticking around for me. You helped me to realize how important my family is, and how much I was missing out on. The last year spent at home with you has been more exciting, more fulfilling than I could've ever imagined. That's all thanks to you.

When you walked in the coffee shop two years ago, I had no clue you'd be the one, but I had a feeling that you were going to change my life. I knew you were special, and that the impact you would make on us would be a gigantic one. You made our house a home. Do you realize how incredible that is? You are the glue that holds us all together. We couldn't do any of this life without you.

I promise to make the rest of our days together count; I'll never take you for granted again. I'm so glad that you picked me, despite all of the obstacles I put in our way. Thank you for growing and learning with me, and not giving up on us.

I can't wait to see what forever with you looks like. I hope you know how loved you are, and how much we appreciate the love you've given us. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life loving you.

-Aaron

You fanned the tears on your face as the music began to play; you could see him waiting for you, dressed in all black, smiling at Sean and Leo who were sat in the front row of chairs.

"It's time for us to go, mom! Uncle Dave gave the signal," Dave had told Jack the signal was waving you in, so you took a deep breath as the bay doors opened, and all eyes were on you and Jack. He held your hand tightly, waving to his dad who couldn't keep his eyes off of you. The smile Aaron wore was unlike one you'd ever seen before; it was as if for the first time in your lives, there was no worry, no stress. There was only the love you had for each other for everyone to bare witness to. You were surrounded by the people who loved you the most, standing in front of a man who'd give anything to make sure your life never had another sad moment ever again.

Jack sat with Sean as Aaron reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours as you waited on the officiant to start the ceremony. He shot you a quick wink as the Preacher began, but unless you had to speak, your attention was completely on Aaron, who hadn't looked this happy in all of the time you'd known him.

You knew life would give you some tough battles; it deals everyone a strange hand of cards and all we're left with is what we can make from it. You'd become stronger, wiser, but you also learned the true value of loving someone, and it had started not with Aaron, but Jack.

You had never loved anyone outside of the obligation of family, and even then, it was difficult. Jack had shown you the first glimpse of unconditional love, and it only grew exponentially in the two years that you'd been in his life. He made you a mom, and a hero in his eyes. He was the first person to love you without expecting anything in return. Even now, Jack looked at you like you were the brightest star in the galaxy, with his toothy grin and the occasional thumbs up to make sure you knew that you were doing great.

Jack had helped to heal a part of your broken childhood that you weren't even aware of until you met him. Each Lego set, or experiment in the kitchen was a small step towards healing that you didn't even know you needed until the hole in your chest was no longer empty. Jack had been the biggest blessing in disguise of them all, because if not for him, you would've never gotten the chance to be a mom to a little boy who needed you just as much as you needed him.

As you kissed your husband, you felt the warmth of love buzzing from everyone in the crowd, but especially from Aaron. It was a foreign feeling, knowing that you were home. You always had been with him, but now, you were a family who all shared the same last name.

You were a mother, and a wife to the greatest man you'd ever met. The bumps in the road had been rough, but they couldn't even compare to the sunshine after.

"We did it," he whispered, pulling you in for a hug as your found family cheered you on. You were beyond content, that didn't even begin to describe it. You knew that anything that you faced beyond this, you tackled head on together, for better or worse. Your life partner was gripping your hand as tightly as he could, showing off his new bride as you blushed uncontrollably, opening your arms for your babies that you'd barely seen all day. Sean handed Leo to you, and Jack clung to your leg as you took photo after photo, smiles plastered to all of your faces, except for Leo, who insisted on sticking out his tongue the whole time.

By the time the ceremony was over and everyone had eaten, the music started back up, and Aaron found you, pulling you away from your conversation with JJ so he could dance with you.

"Come on, if I don't dance with you soon, Jack will keep you all for himself," you let your head rest on his chest and tuned out the crowd of onlookers and people taking photos to appreciate the time with your husband. You'd never danced with him before, so you had no idea how good of a dancer he was until he twirled you around and you couldn't hide the smile that broke out on your face. You were happy, truly the happiest woman alive.

"I love you," it was quiet enough that only he could hear, so he pulled you in close, kissing the top of your head.

"I love you, Angel. I can't wait to spend the weekend with you," it had been months since you had a chance to be alone with him, so you were eager to spend time with him, to take off your heels and relax in a plush hotel room with him somewhere. You were staying close to home, but you had no doubts he'd went above and beyond wherever you planned to stay.

"I'm so ready to have you to myself," you chuckled, watching the dance floor quickly fill up after the song changed. Sean spun Leo around, making him howl with laughter, and sure enough, Jack was at your side, wanting to dance with you.

"My turn, dad!" He tugged at Aaron's pant leg until you picked him up, and his arms wrapped around your neck before his head rested on your shoulder.

"This means you'll be my mom forever, right? That's what Uncle Sean said," you would be his mom forever regardless, but you nodded your head anyway, squeezing him tightly.

"Forever and ever," you confirmed, which made him hug you even tighter. Aaron watched from his chair, blowing you a kiss whenever you'd catch his eye, but otherwise letting you enjoy the evening. You knew you'd have him alone later, and the boys would miss you while you were gone, so you wanted to make sure you spent the night loving on them before you didn't see them for a few days.

"Jack?"

"Yes, mom?"

It still took your breath away to hear sometimes, and your heart would skip a beat. You were just so taken aback that a boy who had lost so much had so much space in his heart for you.

"I'm so glad you're my baby."

He leaned back to look at you before cupping your face with his tiny hands and putting the tip of his nose right up to yours.

"Me too."

✨✨✨

After taking more photos in one night than I had in the last ten years, we were finally in the car, alone for the first time all day. I couldn't pull out of Dave's driveway fast enough, already anticipating the next few days alone with her. She lifted the console and climbed into the middle, buckling her seatbelt and settling in at my side.

"Today was perfect."

Those three words meant more to me than she'd ever know. The day had been more than perfect, it had been like a scene from a movie, and she was the star. She'd been so giving, so selfless for our family, and I got to secure her spot in my future forever. If you'd have told me three years ago that I would be retired, and that there were days that the BAU wouldn't even cross my mind, I would've laughed at you. It was hard getting out of the routine of being gone, on a plane every chance I got. Being stationary was new, but she'd helped me through everyday of it, even the days that didn't have such good endings. She was always there the next morning to try again.

"You're perfect."

I'd dreaded the day I had to slow down. But I'd learned more about her and Jack in the last year than I ever thought was possible. Leo was quickly growing into his own personality, a bright, bubbly boy just like his brother. They were two of the happiest boys I'd ever seen, and we had her to thank. She'd changed all of our lives, and we hadn't even realized it until the day came where there was nothing left to worry about. She took care of things before we got the chance to worry about them, our problems never even getting the chance to manifest because she knew how to spot them and deal with them beforehand.

It had been a year of learning to put them first.

I'd resisted the happy life for so long that I almost felt guilty for enjoying my free time with them when I knew there were monsters to hunt down, but the BAU was under the protective hand of Emily, and she knew how to lead them. They were fine without me.

My newfound role as full time father was better than any promotion work could've given me. Being able to give them the satisfaction of having me home daily was enough to shift the entire house upside down; Jack and Leo would wake up every morning to both of their parents. No more asking when I was coming home, or where I was. They'd know.

It was a brand new feeling, being loved by someone who had the potential to heal me in places I didn't know were hurting. She knew how to make things brighter, how to make your worries disappear in a flash. I had no clue how she did it, but I was thankful for her nonetheless. Without her, Jack and I wouldn't have gotten the chance to become even closer than we were, spending all of our free time working on soccer drills or building something crafty together. He was capable of so many things that I'd never gotten to witness before, simply because I hadn't been around.

I made a promise to myself before she walked down that aisle that it was her turn. It was time for her to feel the love that she'd been giving everyone else, and it was long overdue for her to have the peace she brought to everyone else's lives. As she dozed off against my shoulder, I knew there was nothing that we couldn't do, as long as we tackled it together. She'd been my biggest support through everything, and it was time to give that back to her. She deserved everything that I could offer her and then some.

Even now, with the moon high in the sky and the radio playing softly, nothing could be better. We were one unit now, an unstoppable pair. The ring on her finger seemed to shine a little brighter than before as I admired her hand, still in my lap. I hoped and prayed I was able to keep her forever, grow old with her, watch our kids become men, and fathers. I didn't want to rush, though. I wanted forever to take its time, because no amount of time spent with her would ever be enough. She was what we'd been waiting on to bring the light back to our lives, and even in the dark, she was brighter than anyone I'd ever met, or would meet.

I didn't have the answer for every question, and I wasn't perfect by any means, but I knew we'd figure out the answers together to make for a perfect life together, and that was more than enough for me.

Tag list: @sammyrenae68 @camtree @realdirectionx @ellamalfoypotter @deblou008 @ssamorganhotchner @dangerouslittlefairy @iamanironmanfan @rousethemouse @americanbeauty80 @laneyspaulding19

#home//hotch #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #ssa hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #hotchner #spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jj jareau #dave rossi

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 2 years ago

Note

HERE IS A PROMPT FOR YOU: scully’s a little sick maybe and mulder tries to be helpful? (maybe he makes her instant ramen bc it’s the only thing he can really make that isnt in the microwave and also hey its got broth? that means it’s nutritious for the sicklies right? :’))

unabashed self-indulgence here because my brain is,,,, slightly rotting shdjdbsj. I fully believe Melissa Scully dragged her little sister out some weekend in mid-1993 to gossip about cute, jerk FBI partners and watch the silly dinosaur movie. you can pry this pointless headcanon from my cold, dead hands.

stop to think if they should

1k words | mid-s2 | tagging @today-in-fic :)

"Mulder, it's me," says Scully's stuffy-nosed voice across the phone line, and Mulder chuckles at how peeved she sounds.

She is the latest casualty to the latest cold bug going around, and had left work early the day before because of it, glaring at him when he called after her to get some rest. He supposes she must be sick of hearing that, after the last few months. First her abduction and subsequent recovery, then the quarantine after their fiasco at Mt. Avalon, then Pfaster. She's back in the field, but it hasn't been an easy time and she's probably going stir-crazy, if not crazy otherwise. She laughs louder now when she laughs, and he can't complain about that, but it's a little desperate, like she's looking for light she can't quite reach.

"Hey," he greets, "How you feeling?"

She sighs. "Achy, congested, and bored out of my mind," she says, then too-quickly adds, "But I'm fine, I promise." Which is when he knows she's not.

He's leaving the office a little late, tosses a bundle of files into the back of his car. "Want me to come over?"

"I said I'm fine, I don't need-"

"I know," he assures her. "But I've heard I'm an entertaining guy, so..."

She hesitates, a silence so thick he can practically hear it over the phone line. "Okay," she eventually says, a little quieter than before. "Sure, if you want to."

"Want me to pick anything up on my way?" He asks, smiling to himself at her acquiescence. "Some food, a movie?"

More hesitation, practically her trademark, and he's already pulling into a supermarket that he knows makes great soup. For someone with a large, obviously caring family, Scully is terrible at allowing others to take care of her. Maybe the old adage about doctors making the worst patients is true, after all. She mumbles a title and he laughs out loud, backtracking when she stammers a quick, embarrassed "nevermind".

"I got it, Scully. Half an hour, tops." He barely shuts his mouth on the casual, instinctive love you that nearly slips out, stunning himself to stillness momentarily.

He does — love her, that is, even if he can't quite pin down what that means. Her abduction proved that; she's quite possibly the most important person in his life and he's still not sure what to do about it. He buys a big container of chicken soup, enough for Scully to have leftovers for the next day, grabs a carton of ice cream — neapolitan, because he doesn't know what kind she likes best — and rents a movie. For now, he can do this for her.

She's curled up in a corner of the couch when he lets himself in, dangling the plastic supermarket bag from one hooked finger. "The party," he says by way of greeting, "Has arrived."

Scully gives half a smile over her shoulder, wrapped in a tassel-ended blanket and draped in an oversized souvenir sweatshirt he'd bought her as an apology in the Anchorage airport, after their disastrous trip to Alaska last year. That, he thinks, feels like something out of a movie. Her nose is red and her freckles are a little hidden by the flush of her cheeks, and she looks a little bit miserable, but miserable is better than genuinely ill.

"I meant to ask," she says, wobbling back and forth on the cool tile of her kitchen floor as he hunts around for bowls and spoons, "Who, exactly, has said you're entertaining?"

Mulder stops his kitchenwide search and fixes her in his gaze for a moment. She's teasing him, yes, but she's also got a hint of genuine curiosity in her bleary blue eyes. "Mostly strangers," he says with a sheepish chuckle. "In bars."

That gets a little bit of a laugh from her, then she coughs raggedly into her elbow and tugs the blanket — which she's holding like a cape, clasped around her shoulders — a little tighter. She points to the drawer where she keeps her silverware, then retreats back to the living room. After presenting her with a bowl — or cup, since it has a handle, but it's too big for him to be sure — of soup, he unveils the last item he brought and watches, maybe a little too pleased, as she flushes even redder.

"I thought you were more of a horror film person," he teases, glancing over his shoulder at her as he fiddles with her VCR. "The Exorcist and all that. Not so much Jurassic Park."

Scully shrugs, embarrassed, and Mulder flashes her a smile so she knows he's just teasing, trying to keep her distracted from her stuffy nose and watery eyes. "Melissa made me go see it with her last year," she offers as an explanation. "Some things are just... fun, I guess."

Mulder is taken off guard by the way she shifts and leans against him when he sits down beside her. Scully has never seemed to be as tactile as he is; she's never rejected his touches, even when his heart gets the better of him and he's probably pushing his luck, but the only time she's openly sought him out was after Pfaster. Now, though, with the television playing and blanket tightly around her, she curls against him almost instinctively.

He can feel the warmth of her slight fever through the fabric of his shirt, can feel her gradually go more and more limp. She's going to fall asleep on him, to the sounds of rain and dinosaurs roaring, and maybe to the sound of his heartbeat, also. He wonders for one fanciful moment if she could hear the way he feels about her through a stethoscope.

Eventually, hesitantly, he slips his arm around her back and draws her closer, her hair frizzing out across his chest. "This okay?" He asks softly against the warm top of her head, and she nods, humming sleepily and sniffling. He thinks she mumbles something about Hollywood science making no sense, and Mulder smiles with his lips still against her hair. If he told her he loves her right now, she might be too out of it from sleep and cold medicine, too preoccupied with what little of the movie she's absorbing as she drifts to sleep, to remember it in the morning. His heart beats a little faster at the thought, and he only says it in his mind. For now, this is enough.

#feeling wildly and flagrantly self-indulgent tonight #Lu writes #txf #the x files #dana scully #fox mulder #mulder and scully #msr #msr fanfic #also shdjfbsjx once again you are the ramen noodles mutual <3

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flightlessangelwings · 3 years ago

Text

Kinktober Day 31: Wild Card

Wild card: somnophilia

Comandante Veracruz x fem!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, sex while one is asleep (consensual), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstim

Notes: Wrapping up kinktober with my asshole husband Veracruz and some good old somnophilia! I’ve been so excited to share this one!! And the idea came to me so quickly too lol. Thank you to everyone who read and reblogged my fics for this event! I hope y’all have enjoyed the month as much as I have, and I think it’s very appropriate for me to finish with V here!

If you’d like to stay up to date on when I post, feel free to also follow my update blog and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates

“I think that would be really hot, V.”

Your words echoed in the comandante’s head as he watched you sleep. It was weeks ago that you told him that you would enjoy it if he woke you up with sex, and he hadn’t acted on it yet. That first morning after you confessed to him, Veracruz savored the look of disappointment on your face when he didn’t immediately follow through with it. But it was the game he played with you, and you knew better than to bring it up.

Veracruz waited until he was sure you wouldn’t expect it to finally act, and now that he watched how delicious you looked asleep next to him, he couldn’t wait anymore. It made it easy for him that you were already nude after he thoroughly ravished you the night before. His eyes darkened with lust as he slowly pulled the sheet off your body and he swallowed hard as his eyes scanned your figure.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, but you stayed sound asleep and completely unaware of Veracruz’s plan. He moved carefully and purposefully so as to not wake you, like a panther about to pounce on his prey. The comandante shifted his weight down and slowly lifted one of your legs before he settled before you. He couldn’t help the low growl that he let out when he saw the marks on your inner thighs from the night before.

Veracruz leaned forward and hovered his lips over your pussy, and he felt the heat radiate from your body. He didn’t touch you too much since he didn’t want to wake you just yet, and just teased your pussy with his tongue at first. His touches were soft and light, just barely enough that you would have felt it had you been awake. You squirmed in your sleep under his teasing tongue, but you didn’t wake up, and Veracruz grinned wickedly into you.

Slowly, Veracruz licked up and down your folds, still conscious to keep his touches light for now. You let out soft whimpers as he teased you with his tongue in your sleep. He rolled your clit around a few times before he gently sucked at it, which made you moan louder in response. The comandante trailed his tongue down to your entrance and pushed into you. He groaned when he tasted a mix of your and his juices and he grabbed onto your hips harder.

You were so wet already, and you hadn’t even realized what the comandante was doing yet. It only fueled him on more, and Veracruz licked his way back up your folds to your clit. This time, he didn’t care about waking you and he sucked at the sensitive bundle of nerves hard. His hands moved to your thighs as he pinned them open and caressed your pussy with his tongue. It was a true test of wills for the comandante to be this soft, but he knew the prize at the end was well worth the self control.

With his rougher touches, you teetered between sleep and wake. You felt like your head was in a fog as your body reacted to Veracruz before your mind could. All you registered in your head was how good you felt, but you weren’t sure why. You moaned before you knew why as you blinked awake and you lost yourself to whatever was happening to you. As your moans got louder and louder, Veracruz knew you were waking up, and that was when he unleashed himself fully onto you.

Veracruz sucked hard at your clit, determined to make you fall apart at his touch before you fully woke up. He pushed your legs down onto the mattress when you tried to close them, and the more force he used on your legs, the harder he ate you out. When you let out a cry, he knew you were close, and Veracruz darted his tongue along your clit even harder.

Before you knew it, you felt the familiar tingle of your climax, and your hands locked onto Veracruz’s hair before your eyes fully opened. With a loud scream, you felt yourself cum before you felt like you were even back in your body. You gushed into his mouth as he lapped at your pussy, and he growled as you tugged harshly at his scalp.

But even as you rode out your orgasm from your sleep on his face, Veracruz didn’t stop. He kept you pinned to the bed as he continued to lavish you with his tongue until your legs shook again. He smirked in satisfaction as you moaned his name and came again in no time and again he greedily swallowed your juices. It wasn’t until you whimpered that he finally broke away from your cunt, and he looked down at you as his chin glistened with your climaxes.

Your eyes were still closed, but you breathed heavily. Veracruz watched with desire in his eyes as your chest rose and fell and your pussy dripped onto the sheets. Sleep still had a hand on you, even after two orgasms, and the comandante took full advantage of that. He pounced forward and covered your body with his own as he lined himself up at your entrance.

Again, Veracruz started slowly as he pushed into you and he savored all the noises you made that you weren’t even fully aware of. It wasn’t until he was fully inside you that your eyes shot open and your mind finally caught up to you. Just as you opened your mouth, Veracruz took your lips with his own in a heated kiss as he started to rock in and out of you.

You wrapped your arms around him as you woke up to this pleasurable and pleasant surprise. You moaned into his mouth as you felt him growl against you and it didn’t take long for Veracruz to pick up his pace.

Veracruz broke away from the kiss and sat up a bit to watch the faces you made while he fucked you awake. Your eyes were glazed over and your mouth hung open as moans and cries spilled out. His hands made their way back to your hips and the comandante held you tightly as he thrust into you harder.

“V…” you cried out as you gripped onto the sheets. You thought you might fly off the bed if you didn’t hold onto something.

“You like that, cariño?” he asked in a low rumble as he let all his inhibitions go.

“Yes… V…. please…” you didn’t even know what you begged for, you just knew you needed more… needed him.

Veracruz was more than happy to oblige as he thrust in and out of you with abandon. He leaned forward again and the moment his chest touched yours, your arms wrapped around him. You held onto your comandante for dear life as you surrendered yourself to him, like you had done so many times before and would gladly do again. Your head spun as you felt another climax quickly approach.

You moaned loudly as your entire body tensed around Veracruz, and he knew that you wouldn’t last much longer. But he didn’t slow down, and he dug his fingers into your body as he held you just as tightly as you held him. Sweat lined his brow and his hair fell flat in front of him as he pounded into you, but he didn’t care. He was too caught up in the moment to care about anything other than your body under and around him.

“Cum, cariño,” he groaned through a clenched jaw as the bed rocked back and forth with the ferocity of his movements.

With a loud scream, your head fell back and you came hard on his cock. Your body trembled with the might of your climax, and your throat felt scratchy with how loud you were. But none of that mattered as you fell apart at your comandante’s touch. The whole time, he never let up his pace, and Veracruz continued to fuck you through the aftershocks of your powerful orgasm until he felt himself lose control. Heat rose throughout his entire body as Veracruz’s mouth dropped open with his climax. With a low groan of your name, he spilled himself into you and sweat dripped onto your face as he thrust into you until he physically couldn’t hold himself up anymore.

Heavy breaths filled the room from both of you and Veracruz laid on top of you. You sniffled as you didn’t even realize tears fell from your eyes during all this, but you were more than satiated. You ran your hands along his back as you comforted him silently. Veracruz said nothing about the action, but you felt a soft kiss on the side of your head: his brief show of affection after he fucked you.

“How was that, cariño?” he asked in a low and teasing tone as he pushed himself up and slowly pulled out of you. Both of you hissed at the feeling, but Veracruz quickly pulled you in close to him as he allowed you to rest on his chest.

You felt how hard his heart pounded, but you didn’t comment on it, “Thank you, V,” was all you said in a soft whisper as you kissed his chest.

Veracruz didn’t reply verbally; he only gave your body a single squeeze. But you knew what he meant with the action. Even though it was early morning, the both of you were spent already and it didn’t take you long to fall back asleep. The comandante stayed awake and listened to your heavy breaths for some time before sleep finally took him as well. His last thought before he drifted off was how good an idea this was, and how he would reward you for it again later.

#comandante veracruz #comandante veracruz x reader #comandante veracruz imagine #comandante veracruz x y/n #comandante veracruz x you #veracruz x you #veracruz x reader #Burn Notice #Burn Notice The Fall of Sam Axe #burn notice fic #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #comandante veracruz fic #comandante veracruz fanfic #burn notice the fall of sam axe fic

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lorna-d-m · 2 years ago

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Chapter Eight: Vows

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Fem!OC

Summary: Captain Zemo roams the high seas thirsting for revenge, and instead, he stumbles upon the shipwrecked and left for dead Mary Spencer. As the sole survivor, Captain Zemo takes her aboard his ship, the Bloody Baron. Engaged to an English Admiral, Mary Spencer wants nothing more than to return home and live the life she was born for. That is, of course, until she realizes what life can be aboard the Bloody Baron with the Captain himself.

Word Count: 8,731

W: language, violence, drinking, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), vaginal penetration. No stated use of birth control but wrap it before you tap it folks.

A/N: Little announcement, I will be going on a trip later this month, so there may be a delay for chapter nine. I do, however, have a one shot I can post if it takes too long. I have also decided on a modern au for Laszlo Kreizler as my next fic.

Once again, note that I’ve moved Sokovia’s location and made it a Germanic language. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or fill out the form on my pinned masterpost. Thank you so much!

previous chapter

Mary woke at sunrise when Helmut kissed her forehead. He did not think she would wake, but when he pulled away she blinked at him, still half asleep. She beamed, relishing the affection he showed her.

“What are you doing up so early?” She rolled on her stomach to his side of the bed when he got up. It was still warm and smelled like him.

“I’m always an early riser,” he remarked, “You’ve simply never seen me in the morning.”

Mary contemplated that while he excused himself. It was usually Helmut waking her up with breakfast or a meal and checking in on her. She had never woken up with him, but she liked it. Hopefully, every morning would start with a kiss. Lightly, Mary ran her finger over her lips, jealous he did not kiss her there. But, she thought, it was sweet of him to kiss her forehead.

Helmut returned and drew back the heavy red curtains. Bright morning light spilled in, and Mary blinked a few times as she adjusted. He stayed a moment at the window to gauge the weather and the waves before humming in satisfaction. She watched Helmut saunter about the room to get dressed, pulling clothes from trunks and setting them aside. His gold chain, nestled amongst his chest hair, glinted in the light and caught her attention. He started to dress in a light tea-colored shirt, but he frowned when he discovered a hole under his arm. It was large enough to stick his hand through, so he found another shirt.

“I could fix that for you,” Mary offered from their bed. She wore several of his shirts, and she knew most of them had small holes or tears in them. If there was some way she could help him, she was glad to do so.

“Would you? I have sewing supplies somewhere here…” Helmut trailed off as he rifled through his desk.

“Of course,” She smiled coyly. “I did not spend so many afternoons in a drawing room, sipping tea and practicing my stitching, not to utilize it.”

He handed her the bundle of thread, patchwork cloth, and pincushion filled with needles. Mary was about to ask him for the clothes to mend when there was a hesitant knock at the door.

“Come in,” Helmut directed. He had yet to slip on his new shirt, but he made no move to do so. Zemo was not ashamed of his body, and he saw no need to rush to conceal himself from his crew.

Mary quickly covered herself with a sheet despite nothing being exposed. He bit back a snicker seeing her scramble, knowing modesty was ingrained into her head and despite nothing occurring, lying in his bed while he dressed did not appear chaste. Although the sheet could not hide her, it made her feel better.

Billy entered balancing a breakfast tray in one hand and keeping his eyes cast down. He spoke in a rush as he set down the tray; Helmut wondered if the boy even took a breath. “Sorry, sir, some of the crew said you might not wan’ to be disturbed in the morning, but others said you would wan’ breakfast, so I figured I would knock…”

Mary blushed and wished to disappear, but Helmut smiled goodnaturedly. He would hate for Billy to enter some morning and find them in a state of undress and disarray, so it was best to dismiss him from some of his duties. “Thank you for the breakfast, but I think in the future it will not be necessary.”

“Aye, Cap’n.” Billy still avoided Helmut’s eye and nodded before leaving.

“Is he gone yet?” Mary asked from under her sheet.

Helmut facetiously pulled the linen away from her and chuckled. “Yes, and tell me, Sternchen, what will you do when there is an emergency and someone comes into my cabin to find you in a less demure state?”

“Hmm,” she dramatized her thinking to amuse him, “I will send my soon-to-be husband, while I stay in the privacy of our bed.” Mary tugged the sheet back over her.

“Oh, is that your plan?” Helmut leaned in, placed a quick kiss on her cheek, and stayed exhilaratingly close to her. He practically purred in her ear, “Of course, I should have known.”

Mary’s heart skipped a beat, and she barely restrained a gasp. With a small smirk, he withdrew. Helmut finished dressing, securing his belt over his black linen pants and lacing up his boots. Then he handed her a neatly folded stack of clothes to darn before sitting at the table. Mary left their bed to join him, eager to eat breakfast.

“Is there somewhere on deck I can sit?” He glanced up at her while pouring his morning tea, so she continued. “I thought it would be nice to sit outside in the sun and the breeze for a bit.” Being cooped up in the Governor’s house and spending all of the previous day in their cabin made her long for some fresh air.

“I am not sure if there is one that will suit you, but it can be arranged.” The morning was far more temperate. By afternoon she would need shade and protection, perhaps even venturing below deck. Amongst his many arrangements for the day, Helmut wanted to be sure she would be comfortable.

After breakfast, Helmut paid a visit to the galley. If he was to plan a pirate wedding, he wanted it to be a proper celebration for everyone aboard. That would mean plenty of food, freely flowing drinks, and a massive amount of work for the cook to prepare for the night.

“It’s possible…” Anthony the cook stirred something in a large pot before returning to Zemo, “If you get me more fresh fish.” He cracked a grin, “How am I supposed to make a feast fit for a baron with only salted meats and preserves?”

Zemo returned Anthony’s grin with an acknowledging smile. It was rare for his previous title to be mentioned to his face, but he knew in this instance Anthony meant no harm. It was lighthearted ribbing, meant to make the Captain laugh.

“I am sure some of the crew can be convinced to cast lines and nets rather than their usual chores.” Besides, if he would rather eat a fresh fish stew than a sad, salted, unrecognizable piece of meat, so would they.

Anthony sprinkled several spices into the pot and gave it a taste. Smacking his lips, he returned to the Captain. “Then you will have the finest food any pirate has ever known, sir.”

Helmut did not doubt that, so he began his search for Oeznik. He needed his first mate to officiate the wedding, and he knew his old friend would be pleased for him. Oeznik was an early morning riser, and given the mid-morning time, he suspected he would find him patrolling the deck or inspecting work. He left the galley and passed through the berth deck.

Mary sat in the shade where the quarter-deck hung over the main deck. She happily showed him her work so far, and her stitches were smooth and clean as he knew they would be. He was thankful to have some of his shirts repaired and in rotation again since she enjoyed wearing them. Helmut did not mind sharing with her, he rather enjoyed the sight of her in his clothes, but he knew they both would appreciate clothes without holes or tears in them.

“What’s this?” He picked up a shirt to the left of her, yet to be mended, with several tears and holes in it. Helmut did not recognize it as his.

“Oh!” Mary smiled with pride, “Some of the crew brought me clothes to patch up.” He eyed the stack next to her which looked like more than some, and he arched an eyebrow. “They noticed me sitting here sewing things for you, and they asked if I would mend their clothes. I agreed, so three of them brought me a few pieces.”

“Awfully helpful of you.” He remembered her net fixing exploits and knew she liked to stay busy. Too much idle time and she would grow bored and restless. It was one of the traits he admired about her. “I am sure they will appreciate it.”

“Yes,” she glanced up from her stitching to look at him. “I examined one of the shirts and found several rough, zig-zagging repairs. I rather think mine will be an improvement.”

Helmut refolded the shirt and returned it to the pile. “With certainty.” He spotted Oeznik at the bow of the ship, so he politely excused himself. Mary urged him on knowing he had a busy day.

Zemo noticed the two men scrubbing the deck within listening distance as he approached, so he greeted his old friend in their native tongue. It would give them privacy since little the crew understood. Those who did were not near.

Oeznik followed his Captain’s lead when he spoke. “I see Ms. Spencer has decided to stay on the ship.” He always spoke of her as Ms. Spencer, never the less formal Mary.

Grinning slyly, Helmut pressed his palms against the railing of the ship. He leaned over a touch to see the waves cresting against the keel. “Ms. Mary Eleanor Spencer has,” after her panic last night of course he needed to say her full name with a smirk, “and we have chosen to wed. I need my first mate to officiate.”

“When, sir?”

“Tonight, at sunset.” He turned away from the water. “She did not wish to wait any longer.” Neither did he, but it had been her idea. Helmut would make it happen for her.

His first mate laughed quietly, and he almost did too from sheer joy. Never in his wildest dreams did he think Mary would grow fond of him, let alone want to marry him. Helmut spent so many nights dreading when she would leave him, how she would loathe him when she knew the truth, and yet Mary did not. She loved him.

“Hm,” Oeznik never forgot a conversation, and although Mary was important to Zemo, so, too, were Heike and Carl. Eight years of heartache and anger were not easy to forget. “You have reconciled your desire for revenge?”

Helmut’s eyes flashed toward Oeznik for a moment, burning at the memories, and then he sighed. “She was aware of her intended’s behaviors well before I told her.” Oeznik’s eyes widened as he continued. “Mary was only bound to him through duty and finance, not any form of love or devotion. She feels no loyalty to him.”

Oeznik smiled and clasped him on the shoulder. “Then it would be my honor to marry you.” Zemo leaned into the old man and hugged him. Oeznik chortled in surprise but supported his Captain as best he could.

In the evening, before the sun began to set, the couple prepared for their ceremony. Nervous butterflies fluttered in Mary’s stomach, but she was excited to see what he prepared for her. Helmut spent almost all day discussing and arranging with the crew, trying to keep some element of surprise for her.

Before he returned to their room, Mary changed into the sleek white negligee. She studied herself in the mirror and tried to remember all of her fantasies from two nights ago. Would Helmut find her breathtaking and charming as she dreamed, or would he not like what he saw as she feared?

You’re being ridiculous… Mary remembered the way he kissed her. Surely he would not touch her, tease her, thrill her, if he did not desire her. Helmut was respectful of her boundaries, never crossing the line, but edging close enough to tantalize her. Part of her wanted to know what would happen when he finally crossed that line.

Mary slipped the light blue day dress over the nightgown. She knew the cut of the gown would cover the delicate fabric, and she thought it would be a nice surprise for their night. He would unlace her dress, let it fall from her shoulders, then take in her form in the negligee. Perhaps he would kiss her first, pulling the pins from her hair as he did, and then—

—Helmut entered their room, startling Mary’s fantasies, and she sighed in relief when she realized it was him. He apologized, ever the gentleman, and she asked him to lace up her gown.

“In a moment,” he requested, “Allow me to clean up. I would hate to accidentally ruin your fine dress.”

Blushing as she held the top over her chest, and barely kept it from slipping off her shoulders, she waited for him to return. He did, and Mary felt his strong but nimble fingers at the base of her spine. His breath was warm on her neck, and his voice a whisper in her ear as he confessed. “Unlacing is more of my specialty, but I have experience and patience. A man can do anything if he has those.”

Mary leaned into his touch, and he chuckled against her. He was not even undressing her, he was lacing up her dress, and yet she found herself drawn to him. His every touch and word thrilled her.

“Have patience, Sternchen, not yet,” Helmut murmured. His mouth drew near the pulse point of her neck, and she wanted him to kiss it as he did before, but he withdrew with a pinch to her waist. He was finished with her dress, and he needed to tend to himself.

Playfully annoyed, she picked up his hand mirror and looked for somewhere to prop it up. Styling hair with one hand was difficult, so Mary found a spot on the nightstand where she could set the mirror and still see her reflection. Smartly, she kept all her hairpins from the Governor’s so she could recreate a seemingly delicate hairstyle.

Mary peeked at Helmut in the mirror. If Helmut could look at her undressing, could she not observe him dressing? He ferreted through several chests and trunks before humming excitedly and tapping his fingers against the wood. Mary watched with keen interest as he laid aside several dress shirts, coats, pants, and vests reminiscent of a Baron.

Meeting his inquisitive eye in the mirror, she gave her opinion. “I like the purple one.” Helmut smiled and held it up for her further inspection. It was a dark vest, the color of full-bodied wine, with gold buttons down the front. Sitting on the bed, Mary could not see the details, but she knew it was finely tailored. He would buy nothing less. She nodded approvingly at him.

“Then I shall wear it,” Helmut promised. He set it aside to create an outfit.

Mary returned her attention to her hair, wondering how her maidservants and her ladies ever fashioned her tresses. It was unruly and outright uncooperative no matter how many pins she placed, and she grew frustrated with it.

Helmut noticed her trying to pin a piece in place, and he watched as it fell again. She sighed in annoyance and started to try again. “Leave it down if it is bothering you,” he gently advised as he crossed the room.

She protested weakly, knowing it was a losing battle. “But I won’t look pretty if my hair isn’t up.” Admittedly, her hair did not look as she imagined with half the pins falling out, but she had been raised to believe a formal event meant her hair needed to be tamed and styled.

“This is a pirate wedding, Sternchen, not a society ball.” Helmut kissed her cheek and turned her face away from the mirror. “Besides, I think you are lovely, ethereal even, with your hair down,” he assured her in a low voice.

Taking his advice, Mary set about removing all the gold and pearl hairpins. Helmut dressed behind her, choosing a starched white shirt with ruffles near the wrist and collar. She took in a deep, steadying breath before picking up two pins and fastening her dark hair away from her face. On a ship, the wind was liable to blow in any direction. Mary at least wanted to be prepared.

“Handsome,” she turned over her shoulder and complimented him, “but I think you’re overdressed for a pirate wedding.” Helmut resembled a Baron. His white shirt was tucked into the black linen pants, and his purple vest was done up. Closer now, she could see the fine gold and silver embroidery.

Helmut demurred, “Really? And what, pray tell, should a pirate wear?” He stepped closer to her, sitting on the bed, trapping her against it. Stuck between his legs and broad frame, Mary’s heart began to race. However, she held her ground.

“A pirate’s shirt should be loose,” she reached for the top buttons of his vest and undid them. “Now everyone can see your strong chest and gold necklace.” So she could see it, more like.

Helmut laughed briefly, knowing she was doing this for her amusement. But, then again, so was he. Teasing her and pleasing her brought him joy, and he wanted to see where she would go with this ruse.

Mary pushed a lock of hair off his forehead and back, almost out of reach for her in this position. “A proper pirate should have a hat, the kind with a feather that flops in front of his face.” He stilled at her touch, his eyes reverent as her hand strayed to cup his cheek. “And jewelry,” she said definitively, “a pirate needs to be dripping in regalia.”

He took her hand cradling his cheek and kissed her knuckles. His lips were soft against her as he promised to follow her every word. Mary giggled on the bed, waiting to see what he would do. Helmut picked up the small chest of jewelry she stole from the Governor’s and handed it to her before picking up a similar container on another shelf.

“Reminiscent of your own words,” he quipped, “if you are to wed a pirate, then you ought to look like a pirate.”

She slipped on the rings and the bracelets with a grin, but she hesitated with the necklaces. The clasps were tricky, she remembered how difficult they were to secure, so she asked for his help. Clad in his heavy gold rings and necklaces, Helmut obliged.

“Now you look like a pirate,” he rasped in her ear. Mary held her hair out of his way, and his hands lingered. Her heart skipped a beat, and she feared he could feel it at the pulse point of her neck. His lips pressed against her, tender at first, then more insistent as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed down the smooth line of her neck and nipped near her collarbone.

A knock at the door broke them apart, and Mary anxiously pulled away from Helmut. Much like the sheet in the morning, she did not like the idea of being seen in a more intimate moment. As a delicate lady, she was not accustomed to the idea. Helmut, she quickly learned, did not shy away from public displays of affection.

“Captain!” She recognized Billy’s voice on the other side of the door. “Are you ready? It’s almost time!”

“Yes!” Helmut called back, “We will be there in a moment.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Are you ready?”

Mary checked her dress and her hair again, ensuring nothing was out of place, before nodding at him. “I believe I am,” she answered confidently.

He reached for his hat and sword belt on his desk. After all, he needed them to be an authentic pirate. “You look stunning, Sternchen,” Helmut complimented as he offered his arm to her.

She took it and reached for his steady hand. When she found it, calluses and all, she gripped it tight. He gave her a light squeeze before leading her to the deck. Mary looked to him for reassurance before stepping out, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with a smile.

Outside, the crew of the Bloody Baron waited for them. Some sat on makeshift tables and chairs made of crates and barrels, and others stood. Candles lit the deck, but the sky was brighter. The sunset in the western sky was an array of pale pink, dark purple, and burning orange. It was endless and breathtaking.

“Go on.” Helmut nudged her toward the curved staircase on the left. Mary was reluctant to leave his side, but he squeezed her hand to give her courage.

She walked up the left staircase, mindful of every step, while Helmut ascended the right. Both were elegant in the vestments of their rank. They met in the middle of the quarterdeck where Oeznik waited for them. He smiled and greeted them in a low voice before clearing his throat to begin the ceremony.

“You may know this man as your Captain, but I have known him since he went by a name nearly forgotten now.” Helmut bowed his head in acknowledgement as he knew where Oeznik’s speech was going. Amongst the crew and many others in the new world, Helmut’s past was spoken in whispers and rumors, never confirmed. “Before he was ever Captain Zemo of the Bloody Baron, he was Baron Zemo of Sokovia. So when he found Lady Mary Eleanor Spencer in the wreckage of her ship, he could not leave her there.”

Mary’s cheeks flushed. Helmut must have told him her full name. She did not mind, it was fitting for their wedding, but how Helmut learned mortified her.

“It was only natural they should form a strong bond, greater than any of their ties to their past, so they may start a new future.” He looked expectantly at Helmut. “Would you like to say a few words?”

She admired the way his lips parted in thought and how the sun shone on all of his freckles. He radiated adoration like he wished to worship her.

“I would, danke freund.” Helmut stood a little straighter, bristling with pride. He wet his lips before speaking, and his voice was quiet, meant for her ears only. “For years, I was lost in darkness. There was no bright moon or glittering stars in the sky. But Sternchen, the light reappeared when I met you. ” His eyes, typically discerning and harsh when he stood on the deck, were warm and wide, softened with love when he spoke to her. “You, my little star, lit the way. You guided me to purpose and to hope.”

Tears welled up in Mary’s eyes, but she tried to blink them away. One started to roll down her cheek, and she sniffled as she wiped it away. Helmut took her hand before it could return to her side and held it.

“Mary, I vow to treasure you above all else.” He gave her hand a comforting squeeze before speaking loud enough for the crew to hear. “I will love you, respect you, and protect you, and if I ever fail to do so you can cast me into the sea or desert me on an island.”

Some of the crew laughed at the idea of their Captain being marooned for being a bad husband, but Mary knew he meant every word. Helmut would never lie to her.

“Mary, would you like to say a few words as well?”

She nodded first, unsure if her voice would squeak or crack when she spoke. “I would, thank you, Oeznik.” Her voice did not fail her, so she continued. “Helmut,” Mary paused, wanting to find the right words, “were it not for you, I would be in a loveless marriage. I would be an ornament to my husband rather than an equal.” He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “You taught me to be brave, to go after what I want, to be my own person. I can never thank you enough for that.”

“Courage was always in you. I merely encouraged it,” he added, smiling indulgently.

“I promise to love you in every way I can. If I do not know how, then I promise to learn.” She was unashamed to admit there was much she did not know about love and relationships, but she desperately wanted to understand. Admitting her inexperience was the first step of learning, so perhaps that was another form of bravery.

“Helmut, do you have the rings?”

Reaching into his vest pocket, he pulled out two simple gold bands. Helmut, already holding Mary’s hand, slipped the ring on her finger. She plucked the other ring from his open palm and placed it on the corresponding finger. Their hands were already decorated with rings — gold and silver, rubies and sapphires, emeralds and diamonds — but these simple gold bands were far more meaningful and valuable than the rest combined.

“By the power vested in me as first mate, I pronounce you husband and wife.” Oeznik lowered his voice again, “You may now kiss your bride.”

Cheers went up from the crew when Helmut leaned in. His kiss was chaste but sweet. On his lips was the unspoken, bewitching promise for more.

They descended the stairs with entwined arms. As they passed, members of the crew clapped them on the shoulders and congratulated them. The sun hung low in the sky, the final golden rays reflecting across the water, and soon the candles and stars would be the only source of light. Helmut led her to a table and chairs set aside for them and pulled back Mary’s seat for her.

“Everyone,” at Sam’s encouragement they raised their mismatched cups of beer, wine, rum, or whatever suited their fancy, “a toast to the groom with a bride so fair, and to a bride with a groom so rare.”

Congratulations came in a mix of “here here”s, clapping, and stomping against the floor. Helmut and Mary thanked them profusely, raising their glasses of wine. He insisted on one of his fine, aged bottles for the night. Anthony laid all the food out on a table, and the crew waited for their captain to eat before they gorged themselves.

Helmut lifted his glass, his other hand holding hers, and smiled. He had a captain and baron’s innate ability to announce without unduly yelling, letting his voice carry instead. “Please, eat and enjoy. This is a night to celebrate!”

The music picked up, lively strings and drums, and they crowded around the dinner table. Helmut leaned close to Mary, his leg brushing against hers, as he rubbed smooth circles into the back of her hand. Ever the watchful Captain, he surveyed the scene on the deck.

“After all the re-routing and diversions, they deserve to have some fun for one night.” He joked, “It’s an apology for less fighting and raiding.”

Mary laughed, but she was curious too. “When will you return to business?”

He returned his attention to her and studied her expression. She knew he looked for fear or worry, signs that perhaps despite her desires she was afraid of a pirate’s life, but he found none. Smiling, he answered her.

“In a matter of days.” Helmut held his wineglass by the stem but did not drink from it, “We are going south now to pursue a lead, and I will sell what we have collected at port.” He shrugged lightly, “From there, I could not say.”

“That’s part of the fun, is it not? You can sail anywhere you want, whenever you want?” She thought of all the outlandish trinkets on his bookshelves and the places they must have come from. Perhaps she, too, could collect mementos from every outlandish location.

“Anywhere, as long as it is with you,” he promised, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Sternchen, allow me to bring you a plate. You should not be hungry at your own wedding.”

Helmut returned moments later, and as they ate Mary observed her wedding. People ate, drank, and were merry. The music was lively and rustic, the card games high spirited, and she knew the party would run well into the night. Every so often a crew member approached them, sometimes in a group, and congratulated them. Mary greeted each one by name and sincerely thanked them.

For once Helmut looked nervous, tilting his head and not a trace of a smile as he pressed his lips together. “I must confess,” he once again leaned close to her to be heard over the festivities, “I know it is not the wedding you dreamed of, but I hope it pleases you.”

“Oh Helmut,” Mary set down her fork and turned to face him. “It may not be the sophisticated church and lush gardens I always imagined, but I have something far better.” He perked up as she continued, puffing his chest, “I have a husband who loves me, which is more than I could have ever hoped for.”

“You can wish for whatever you desire, Stenchen, and I will grant it for you.” He drew closer, his face inches from hers, and his thigh pressing against hers. Mary wanted to ask him to kiss her again, as he had in the morning or before their wedding, but she did not. This was not the time nor the place.

Instead, Mary tipped her gaze up toward the stars and chose the brightest one. She did not know its name, but she knew Helmut would teach her if she wanted. “I wish to dance, husband.”

“Then we shall dance,” Helmut purred. His eyes were dark in the flickering candlelight as his pupils threatened to overtake the warm brown.

Helmut guided her by the hand to the makeshift dance floor in the center of the deck. Without asking, a space was cleared for them. She placed one hand on his shoulder, and he rested his on her waist. Mary held her open palm against his, but Helmut curled his fingers and linked them with hers. At the prompting of the band, Helmut made the first step and Mary followed his lead. She would follow him to the ends of the earth, but at the moment a dance was enough.

He was a gifted dancer, another facet of being raised a Baron, and they were graceful as they swept across the deck. Their gold and silvery jewelry glinted in the light, dazzling anyone nearby. Although Mary danced with at least a dozen men in London, none of them compared to Helmut Zemo. None could thrill her as him with light touches to her waist, his fingers holding her to him, his dark piercing eyes peering into hers, and the murmured words in her ear.

A folk dance followed the waltz, much more upbeat and uptempo, and Helmut’s hand slid steadily from her waist to the curve of her bottom as he pulled her closer to him. He glanced at her to see if she wanted the space between them again, but by her mischievous smile, he knew she did not. Even if she did not know how to verbalize her wishes, Helmut still knew to grant them.

After several songs, Mary leaned her head on his shoulder. She panted lightly against him, livened by the vigorous dancing, and he held her close. He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear so he could whisper to her.

“Would you like to retire to our room?” Mary did not think she had ever been so close to him in such a state, she could feel his heartbeat near hers, and she craved more. She nodded against him, affirming his question.

“Go ahead. I will join you in a few moments,” he instructed. Helmut would exchange a few pleasantries and farewells before leaving for the night. Mary untangled herself from him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving.

Mary returned to their room, and in a frenzy, she flitted about the room. She dipped a washcloth in the water basin and washed what she could. It was a cool night on the deck with a gentle breeze, so thankfully she did not sweat too much. When she stepped out of the water closet, Helmut entered their room.

“Will you unlace me?” She gathered her hair over her shoulder and turned her back toward him.

“Of course.” Helmut was said he was far more skilled at unlacing a dress, and it showed. He swiftly pulled the laces until the shoulders of her gown threatened to fall off and her white negligee underneath was visible. His hands lingered for a moment at the base of her spine, but he left her alone to prepare himself.

Mary neatly folded her blue dress while he washed and changed. Standing in only her delicate nightgown, she felt both indecently exposed and nervous beyond belief. She remembered her mother’s hushed advice before she left to wed, and Mary took her advice.

First, she blew out the sconces on the wall, and then she extinguished the candlesticks on his desk. Then Mary drew the heavy red curtains to a close blocking out all star and moonlight. The only remaining light was on the nightstand, a trio of small flames, which she would smother soon enough. Mary settled herself into the bed sitting up against the pillows and tucking the sheets around her.

“What is this?” Helmut returned, rolling up the sleeve of his loose white shirt, and Mary’s eyes went wide. She worried she had done something to displease him, or he might be unsatisfied before they even began. “Why is it so dark?” He drew near the bed and picked up one of the candles, holding it near his face, so he could see better. “Did you do this?” The flame showed he was not angry with her but concerned. His brows knit together, and he frowned.

She nodded affirmatively, and he sat at the foot of their bed, the candle still in his hand. The hot wax dripped onto the catcher plate, but still, she feared a drop would spill onto him or her.

“Why?” It was a simple question, only one word, but one that troubled him. His hawkish eyes peered into her soul, somewhere between anguish and outrage.

“My mother said my husband would prefer darkness for the marital act, so I thought-”

“-Of course,” Helmut huffed, muttering a curse. Mary looked at him, her eyes wide with nerves and confusion, so he continued. “I would like to think it may not be your mother’s fault, it is misinformation mothers have given their daughters for generations, but in my life I have learned to know better.”

Unconsciously, she moved her hands to cover her stomach. He may have kissed her and told her he desired her, but she remembered her mother’s words of how her husband would dislike her stomach or her thighs or whatever else. Her instinct was to hide from him, to cover herself. Mary opened her mouth to speak, “Helmut-”

“-Sternchen,” He glanced from her shaky hands to her ashen face and sighed. “Please believe me when I say I wish to see you.” Helmut cupped her chin with the palm of her hand, forcing her eyes that had been avoiding his to focus. “I do not take the privilege nor the honor of being your husband lightly, and I do not wish for you to ever feel unworthy.”

She nodded, and he nodded at her in return. Helmut took the tallow candle and used it to relight the sconce. Muttering about it being better, now that warm light filled the room, he returned to their bed. He greeted her with a kiss, chaste at first, before pulling away. Mary leaned into him, not letting him draw too far away, and he chuckled lightly.

He kissed her again, deeper, more passionate, bordering on desperate. One of his hands cupped her cheek, holding her to him, while his other hand wandered. It started on her waist, visible above the sheets, squeezing every so often, before moving lower. Helmut sucked on her bottom lip and trailed his kiss along her jaw, making her pant as he reached the pulse point of her neck. He could feel her heartbeat race as his hand slid along her thigh over her nightgown and under the sheet.

Mary trembled under his touch, so Helmut retreated. He remembered what she said about her mother, and he knew mothers’ reluctance to speak honestly to their daughters about such matters. The last thing he wanted to do was coerce or manipulate her. “Mary,” his voice was soft and tender, “what do you know about sex?”

She hesitated, pressing her lips together in uncertainty. Helmut did nothing to embarrass her, but it was not a comfortable topic for her. He took her hand in his, rubbing circles against her knuckles, and she was comforted by the simple gesture.

“My mother told me the purpose of the marital act was to please my husband and to create children.” He nodded, letting her speak rather than interrupting her. “Her advice to me was for it to be dark, that I should be quiet, I must never correct my husband, not to be too eager, and I should never refuse my husband either.”

Helmut shook his head in disappointment. He was not surprised, he had been raised a Baron, but he was still disheartened. It was poor advice meant only to please the husband but never the wife. “Did you ever hear anything else?” Helmut was not naive. He knew women would still whisper of sex in their drawing rooms and parlors in hushed tones.

“Some of the ladies said it could be pleasurable with the right man,” Mary flushed a furious shade of red. “They did not say much more, just that their husbands were often unsatisfactory.”

He scoffed a laugh, glad some women figured that out at least. Helmut was pleased, too, that she heard something other than her mother’s awful advice.

“Oh, my sweet Sternchen,” he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, “Sex is about more than producing children,” she nodded along, mesmerized by his eyes, “in fact, there are many activities which will not result in children. It is also more than a husband’s pleasure or a wife’s pleasure, it is about mutual enjoyment.”

Mutual. Mary wondered how Helmut felt when he kissed her. He was always so composed, but did his heart race too? Did he feel the same?

“May I show you one of the best ways a man can please a woman?” She nodded, but that was not enough for him. “Can you say it? I would like to hear you.”

“You may,” Mary answered. She could trust Helmut to check with her at every step, and she appreciated his attentiveness.

He instructed her to lie back on the pillows, and she did. Her eyes never strayed from him, curious as to what he would do next. Helmut pulled back the sheets, exposing her feet and the bottom of her nightgown, and she shivered against the sudden cool air. Slowly, he pushed up the hem of her negligee, and his fingers trailed up against her leg. Now exposed, she inhaled slowly as she watched him press a kiss to her abdomen. He moved down her body, and she squirmed.

One of his hands grasped her hip and held her there. “What I am about to do is commonly called oral sex. I am going to kiss you here,” he lightly ran one of his fingers over her, making her wriggle again, but his other hand held her in place. “Are you alright with this?” His molten brown eyes flickered to hers.

She remembered before when he asked her to answer aloud, so she did. “I am.”

The hand that traced along her moved to hold her other thigh, tighter than she would have expected. He started with little kisses and playful nips on her thigh, enough to excite her and almost beg him for more. By morning there will be dark bruises and marks, but neither one cared. Helmut was caught up in the moment, inhaling her heady scent.

He licked along her sex to prepare her. Mary swore she saw a mischievous smile on his lips before he twisted his tongue against her. His every touch was lightning, and she writhed under him at the striking pleasure.

“Helmut-” she gasped, grasping his sun-lightened hair. It was the only part of him she could reach, and she held on tight to him, curling her fingers in his locks. “What is that?”

“That, Stenchen, is your clitoris,” he chuckled against her, “and its sole purpose is for gratification.” Helmut rubbed it in circles with his thumb, watching how Mary stretched and groaned.

She panted, “More, please.” Mary craved that feeling like she needed to breathe. As with everything he did, it was addictive. She wanted more of him, more of his touch, more of his kiss.

“As you wish.” Helmut licked up all the wetness that seeped out of her, his tongue teasing against her entrance. She breathed unsteadily under him, but he wanted to make her fall apart. He yearned to make her pant, whimper, and moan. He longed to know what she would sound like when he brought her to climax, what she would feel like, and what she would taste like. He craved it all, desperately.

Helmut sucked on her clit, and on instinct, Mary rut herself against Helmut’s face. He relished this act of impulse. His tongue danced along her entrance again before diving in, pressing against her walls and tasting her sweet slick. She whined his name at this, and he moaned against her. Perhaps by groaning and humming against her, he could encourage her to release her own sounds.

He kissed, licked, and sucked every bit of his wife. Heat built in her core, sparked by the lightning of his touch, and he brought her closer and closer to the brink. The muscles of her thighs contracted and ached, threatening to trap his head between her legs. From the sound of his deep groan when she twitched, Mary did not think he would mind.

His lips returned to her clit and sucked hard, bringing all of his work to a climax. First were flickers of lightning, then came the thunder. Helmut was rewarded for his efforts with a gasping mewl.

“You are delicious,” Helmut grunted. He rested his head against her pillowy thigh, allowing them both to catch their breath. “Divine.”

Mary finally untangled her fingers in his hair. She caught her husband gazing at the apex of her thighs adoringly, and she smirked. Curiously, she wondered how long it had been since he last lay with a woman. Had it been his wife, Heike? Or had he found company on lonely nights? She could not blame him if he had, certainly not if some woman was able to ease his suffering and teach him a thing or two along the way.

“I want you.” She was still too shy to say exactly what she wanted, but he knew.

He laughed happily, meeting her eyes. “Not yet, Sternchen, not yet. I am afraid you are not ready for me.”

“Are you scared of hurting me?” Mary remembered her mother’s warning that her first time may be painful, but that it should not be too long. If she was tough she would endure.

Helmut sighed heavily, his fingers absent-mindedly tracing circles against her thigh. Already he could see dark marks forming from where he held her. He pressed a kiss on each one before answering.

“No matter how much I prepare you, there is still a chance it may hurt.” Mary nodded slowly against her pillow. She hoped her mother had been wrong about that as she had many other things. “I promise to be slow and do my best to be gentle, but you must tell me if you are ever uncomfortable.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, attempting to smooth down the mess she made of it. “I will, Helmut, I will.”

“I am going to start with my fingers. Is that alright?” He waited for her permission before continuing. “Can you take off that lovely nightgown? As pretty and enticing as it is, it rather gets in my way.”

Mary quivered at the cold of their room, but Helmut, who lay beside her, was warm. His searing hand cupped her breast, and his thumb stroked her pebbled nipple. To make the situation equal, Helmut removed his white shirt. His golden chain, nestled among the hair on his chest, glinted in the golden candlelight.

She ran her hands over his chest, feeling his hard muscle under the soft surface. His muscles jumped and flexed under her tentative touch, much like they did when she tended to his wounds, but this was different. This was not accidental, eyes and hands wandering, it was purposeful. Mary wanted to memorize every plain and angle of him.

Helmut rolled from laying beside her to straddling her. Mary could taste herself on his lips, and his plump cheeks glistened with her. He continued his kiss, following the familiar line along her jaw and neck, but he did not stop or pull away. He kissed his way to her chest and took one peak into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. Refusing to let the other feel neglected, he flicked and pinched it making her huff.

“Sweet girl, did the pinch bother you?” Vehemently, she shook her head no.

Her hands twisted in his hair again, holding his mouth to her. As if he would willingly detach from her. The hand that fondled her breast strayed, stroking and prodding at her entrance. Slowly and carefully, he pumped his finger in her, using the wetness of her desire and his saliva to his advantage. Mary never felt anything like it before — it was so different from his tongue —, but she enjoyed it. Rubbing at her walls, he searched for the sensitive spots his tongue could not reach. By the intensity of her whimpers, Helmut knew he was close.

Cruelly, at least in her opinion, Helmut pulled his fingers away from her. He brought them to his lips, obsessed with the taste of her, and laughed when she pouted at him.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He dramatically smacked his lips. “But you are so sweet and so patient for me.”

Mary could not bear waiting any longer. “Helmut, please.”

“Remember,” he prompted, “any discomfort and you tell me.” He spoke quickly, rushing through the rest of his sentence, “And I must admit to you that I may finish rather quickly, but I would still like to please you.”

Mary was so eager she could hardly get the words out. “I promise, and do not worry about that. This will not be our last time together.”

Helmut enjoyed that: she did not say she doubted or she hoped it would not be, she knew. He unbuttoned his pants and shimmied out of them, leaving them on the floor, and slotted between her hips. Mary glanced down quickly at him, and she grew worried.

“Are you sure it will fit?” She had his tongue and his fingers in her, and as exhilarating as it was, she feared he would not fit. Helmut ceased his adoration of her neck, there would be several marks come morning, and rasped in her ear.

“I am sure, Sternchen, I have experience and patience. A man can do anything if he has those.”

“Then please, Helmut.”

He notched the head of his cock at her entrance. One of his hands found hers, holding it, while the other guided himself. He pushed in gingerly, waiting for the slightest word or expression of pain from Mary. She grimaced, taking a deep breath, but encouraged him. He prepared her well, but the stretch was still greater than anything she experienced before. Helmut muttered praise for her the entire time, raving about her beauty and how much he loved her.

Mary let out a breath when his hips met hers, and he groaned. “You’re so tight and wet,” Helmut buried his face in her neck, nosing through her hair. He continued to purr dirty praise in her ear, licking and sucking between phrases. His cold gold chain brushed against the top of her breasts, and she desperately wanted him to move. Her muscles tensed around him, making Helmut hum in pleasure. For a moment, he thought he would spill already, enveloped in the wet heat of her, but he steeled his nerves.

Slowly, he drew his hips back before pushing forward again. He fell into a steady rhythm, a push and pull, teetering on the edge of too much and not enough. Everything Helmut did, Mary wanted more. Her hands traced along his back, feeling the powerful muscles and healed scars move, and instinctively she tried to meet each thrust.

“More, please,” she begged. Helmut snapped his head up to stare deep into her eyes. He anticipated anything he did being too much for her, too painful, and yet Mary asked for more. His pupils dilated, overtaking the familiar brown, and something deep within him shifted when she made her request.

He began a brutal pace, hips sinking into hers without restraint. Mary cried out and her eyes rolled to the back of her head when he struck deep, so he did it again and again. His strong frame pinned her to the bed, and there was nowhere else she would rather be. With one hand he pulled her thick thigh up and around his hip, angling her better for him, and the other toyed with her nipple.

“Does it feel good?” he growled, “To have a husband who loves you so dearly? Who would do anything for you?” John Walker would never have satisfied her, and she knew it. No one could please her as Helmut could.

There were no coherent thoughts in her head. Her answer was a mix of please, Helmut, and indiscernible babbling. It was music to his ears. Her fingers dug into his skin, her legs shook against him, and he knew she was close again. Helmut was confident her thigh would stay if he no longer held it in place, so he pushed his fingers between them to circle her clit. It was the final touch that pushed her over the edge, squealing his name.

Helmut maintained his tempo as well as he could, staying consistent for her orgasm, but she coaxed him to follow her soon after. He let out a choked moan as he spilled himself within her in stuttering thrusts.

He stilled, his cock starting to soften inside her, and Mary held him tenderly. She smoothed his hair out of his eyes and cupped his round cheeks with her hands. Helmut rested his body on her softness, running his hands over her plush curves, and squeezing when the desire struck him. When both their breathing steadied, he kissed her delicately. While he did not wish to leave her, he knew he needed to clean them so they could sleep.

“Is it like that every time?”

Mary could feel him chuckling, his chest moving against hers, and she laughed herself. “It can be however you wish, my love,” he assured her.

Eventually, he pulled his softened member from her. She missed the full feeling of him, but he explained it would not be comfortable for them to stay like that. Reluctantly getting off the bed, he wet a cloth in the basin to wash the two of them. His touch was gentle, not trying to overstimulate her, but to soothe her.

He offered her one of his shirts or her nightgown to sleep in, but she rejected it. Lying next to him was warm enough, and she wanted to feel him against her. When he blew out the remaining candles and laid back down in the bed, Mary rested her head on his chest. She heard his heartbeat and his steady breathing, and Helmut kissed her on the top of her head. Mary fell asleep, lulled by the rocking of the ship and the feel of her husband under her.

tag list: @scuttle-buttle @fictionlandslanddreams @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @hardlyinteresting @sapphiredreamer26 @aedeluca @alycu1 @linkpk88 @rachreads @fandom-princess-forevermore @alindeluce

#daniel brühl fanfic #daniel bruhl fanfiction #helmut zemo fanfiction #helmut zemo fanfic #helmut zemo x reader #zemo fanfiction #zemo fanfic #zemo smut

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infernalrevenge · 3 years ago

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Nerves to the Nines

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: T (for negative self-talk in some parts)

Summary: Reader is attending the Gathering of Lords with Alcina and is too nervous to even dress themself properly. Luckily, their lover is here to save the day.

Notes: I have no idea if Alcina may be OOC here, just know that I love the thought of very powerful and intimidating people being soft and protective only for those they love, and that's partly what spawned this thing. That, and the idea of how intimate it is to have your significant other help you get dressed for an important event (that I completely made up for the sake of this fic.)

Also thank you so much for 50 followers :D May not be a big number, but it's more than I expected when I started writing here a few months ago haha

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Two hours to go before the Gathering of Lords.

You went through the mental checklist as you assessed yourself in the mirror. Hair done, make-up done, clothes... well, most of them were on.

You wanted to dress to impress, but not stand out either. A black button up rested on your frame and loose wide-legged pants to match, where your cream-colored shoes peeked out from the bottom. The burgundy blazer you were going to wear over it was hung in front of your closet, and the white rose you would pin onto the lapel sat on the vanity.

It was meant to be an inverse of Alcina's usual attire. She was going to bring a burgundy shawl as well to complement the outfit. Daniela said it would look cute.

But right now, the idea of wearing an extra layer was unwanted. You were too warm right now, and the last thing you wanted was to sweat through your clothes. Everything had to be perfect -- you had to be perfect, lest you sully the "good name of House Dimitrescu" in front of your lover's siblings, and Mother Miranda.

You knew how important tonight was to Alcina, and she wanted you to be a part of it all. She was looking forward to it as much as you and the girls were; when Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela were told they could come, they immediately squealed and started chattering away with you about what they were going to do, what to wear, what you were going to wear, and seemed to already have everything planned in their heads. Their excitement rubbed off on you for the rest of the week, and the happy jitters only got more intense with every passing day.

But the closer the time got to leaving for the Gathering, the more those jitters made you feel like throwing up.

You sat in front of the mirror and idly fiddled with your unbuttoned sleeve cuff, feeling the nerves of tonight bundling up in your chest. One leg bounced under the table impatiently; you had to get the energy out somehow.

You want to go, you reminded yourself. You wanted to go. You still want to go... right? You had been looking forward to this all week, of course you want to go. Just pull yourself together. You took in a deep breath and clapped your hands together.

Wait, when did they get so sweaty? If you tried to shake anyone's hand, they'd be weirded out and disgusted. How can you get it to stop? This is so stupid, why are you worried about sweaty hands all of a sudden?! Control yourself, idiot! This was not the time to worry about such trivial matters, but why did it feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest? It's going so fast, you started to wonder what it could be running from.

This was a mistake, you shouldn't go. You'll just embarrass yourself, and Alcina, and you can't handle that kind of pressure. The scrutiny you'll be under would be crushing, you could practically feel the air getting sucked out of you. This was a mistake, this was a mistake.

You undid the buttons on your shirt, ready to take it off. Just say you don't feel well, that's a good enough excuse. This was a mistake, this was a mistake--

"Y/N, are you alright?" You heard her voice in your room, and she had already ducked inside by the time you turned around. You sucked in a sharp breath.

I'm not feeling well, I think I should stay home.

The lie you had concocted got stuck in your throat as you looked up into her golden eyes, clearly concerned. You didn't want to worry her. You wanted to go. You did.

Instead, you swallowed it and tried to keep your voice steady, "Yeah, yes. I'm just, I'm having a bit of trouble with..."

You looked down at your fully opened shirt, gulping again. "I can't..." Why won't your hands stop shaking?

"What's wrong, my love?"

Alcina was standing at full height, and to any other person, having her look down at you like this might have felt condescending -- an effort to exert power and establish authority. But somehow, being under her shadow in what had felt like a bright room... it was comforting. Just to know she was there, physically. To know that she saw you as you were at the moment, trying to be brave.

"I'm just... nervous, that's all," you finally managed to admit, and it felt like a weight had just been lifted off your shoulders. You relaxed only a fraction though, remembering what the night was going to bring.

In about an hour and a half.

She sat down on your bed, her knees tucked in a bit considering its height. "Perhaps if we talk, you can settle your nerves." She presented the space in front of her, as if she knew you couldn't bring yourself to sit at the moment.

You started rolling the button on your cuff between your fingers, your arm close to your chest like you were trying to protect yourself. From what, you weren't sure.

"What are you nervous about?" she spoke softly, quite a contrast from the usual commanding tone she took on when she spoke to almost everyone else. "Are you worried about not looking right? Because I assure you, darling, you look wonderful -- you deserve nothing less than the best."

"No, I... well it was your idea for us to dress like this, so no, that's not... what I'm worried about." You looked up from under your lashes. Her eyes were still focused on you. You wanted to squirm, and your next words came out softer than you wanted them to.

"I just... don't wanna mess up."

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear you." If you were any other person, she might have lost her temper at your mumbling. You almost flinched at the thought, but you knew she would never. Not with you.

"I-I don't want to mess up." You said a little louder as you folded your hands, one holding onto the other wrist. "You know, like, in front of your siblings, in front of... Mother Miranda... I'm afraid of embarrassing myself in front of them."

She frowned and leaned forward, "What could you possibly do that would embarrass me?"

You shrugged, wanting to shrink in on yourself. "I don't know, I might say something weird or do something that'll seem off, or just, I'm not sure. Something's probably gonna go wrong. Maybe even being myself is embarrassing enough," you joked.

"Darling, you are not embarrassing," she assured. You didn't know if she knew that you meant it as a joke, but she said it with such sincerity that it pulled some of that weight off you once more. It brought a small smile to your face.

"Do you not want to go anymore?" she asked worriedly, and you snapped your head up at that.

"No, I want to!" You answered so fast that Alcina seemed surprised but definitely not displeased

"I'm excited to go, I really am. I'm just not sure if I'm, like, ready to face the others. I wanna go, but I don't know, I can't explain it, I just don't want things to go badly because it'll reflect on you and your daughters and I know how much you want to be in Mother Miranda's favor so I--"

She took your wrist without a word, so gentle in her handling that you barely noticed it at first, and you trailed off. Her fingers fixed up your loosened cuff -- oh, right. Any more stubborn fiddling with it and you would've taken the button right off its threads. She did the same with the other cuff, a calm yet unreadable expression on her painted face.

When she finished, she gently smoothed your hair down, traced your jawline with a finger and tilted your chin up to look at her. "If you're worried about what everyone else would think, I understand. But you are my significant other, my lover. I trust that you'll be wonderful, so know that at least one person there believes in you."

It felt like you were really seeing her for the first time that night, looking so proud when she talked about you. She took the opportunity to fix the rest of your outfit, buttoning up your shirt once more, and kept talking to ease your mind.

"Don't ever doubt me, Y/N, because I've seen you at both your best and your worst, and your best is more than enough for tonight. If they can't see that, then it's their loss, not yours."

You could feel her words physically calming you, heartbeat steadying as you saw the loving gleam in her eyes.

The lady sauntered over to your closet, taking your blazer and handing it over to you. "Now, I believe you're missing a piece, my dear." You hadn't even noticed until then that she was already wearing her shawl. A gentle smile finally broke through your facade as you pulled it on in front of the mirror.

Alcina stood behind, laying her hands on your shoulders when you seemed satisfied. "A perfect match," she cooed, leaning down to face you, so close that you could feel her breath against the shell of your ear. "Wouldn't you say?" You could feel your heart racing again, but it wasn't from any nerves this time.

But before anything could be done about it, the moment was interrupted by multiple knocks on the door, followed by a loud thud. "Mother, Y/N, we're ready!" Bela called out from the other side, fussing over her sisters immediately afterwards. "May we come in?"

Alcina raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well? We shouldn't keep them waiting."

You felt loosened up for the first time that night, ready to face anything with Alcina by your side. You pinned the rose in place and took one last glance in the mirror. "We could always be fashionably late."

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re8

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pillage-and-lute · 3 years ago

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Eskel is a Fanboy (Part 2, Electric Boogaloo)

This is a second part of this. Which in turn was inspired by this.

Please note, this is less funny and a little deeper than the first part, despite the title. Discussions of FEELINGS, hardcore, but also the trials. Brief mention of hypothermia.

Read it here on Ao3

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Geralt arrived late that year. Vesemir had been pacing the corridors, a worry line between his brows, for the last week. The snows were getting worse and worse and innocent snowflakes joined other completely harmless snowflakes until a very un-harmless amount of snow had piled on the track and the passes.

Lambert, alongside Aiden (another reason for the creases on Vesemir’s brow) lounged in the great hall, completely unconcerned.

“He’s stayed later and later every year,” Lambert said, lazily. “He keeps lingering with that bard of his. Why should this year be any different?” His eyes were half closed as Aiden played idly with his hair.

“If he doesn’t get here in the next two days he’ll be too late,” Vesemir snapped.

“I recognize I’m the outsider, here,” Aiden said. “But I don’t always winter with my troupe, and Lambert occasionally spends winters away...”

Eskel shook his head. The constant bickering was impacting his reading and he’d long ago marked his place in his book and set it aside. “Not Geralt,” he said with certainty. “He always winters at home.”

Aiden levelled a chilly, yellow gaze. “You love him.”

“He’s my brother in arms.”

“He’s special to you.”

Eskel wanted to growl and snap, but Aiden wasn’t saying it in a malicious way. There was no threat or accusation in his words. If there had been it would have been pure hypocrisy, what with the way Lambert currently lay in his lap. Eskel had spent a week pretending not to see the pairs’ furtive kisses.

“He is special to me,” Eskel said at last. “I found him, after his second trial, was given special allowance to be away from training to help him. Whatever happened, with the mutagens, he was deaf and blind for nearly two weeks. And had as much strength as a kitten.”

Vesemir’s pacing gained a sharper edge. “I wish I’d killed the mage that called for that second trial.” He said. Lambert and Eskel made eye contact, they were familiar with the self loathing in Vesemir’s voice. Lambert was angry at the world and his whole situation, but they had all forgiven Vesemir years ago. There was no choice but to mend bridges with a pack so small. Still, they rarely talked about it.

“You killed the mage that called for his third,” Eskel said, quietly.

Aiden’s head jerked up. He’d been a witcher, albeit a different school. He knew the trials, he knew the pain, but three trials... “They tried...?”

Eskel nodded his confirmation. “Geralt survived, and the mages who ran the trials wanted to see how many he could take.”

“So I split his throat on my knife,” Vesemir said. There was no satisfaction in his tone, but just an empty statement of action.

“I didn’t know it was you that killed the mage,” Lambert said. “I just knew one had been killed for the suggestion. I heard they made the witcher drink hemlock as punishment.” There was a warmer light of respect in Lambert’s eyes than usually shone there.

“They did,” Vesemir said. “It didn’t kill me.”

That was it for conversation that night, but Eskel went to bed thinking about Aiden’s words.

He’s special to you.

Geralt was special to him. There was an understanding, something gentle and kind between them. Geralt and Eskel lived their separate lives and had lovers and adventures. But for three months of the year they had each other.

Eskel had sometimes wondered if there was something wrong with him. He never gave his heart to anyone. Sex meant nothing and love didn’t happen, and he could only love Geralt for three months at a time.

Except that wasn’t true at all, because of course Eskel loved Geralt all the time. It was only a softer kind of love than he read about in poetry. He didn’t need fiery passion and desperate declarations of love. He had a steady love for Geralt, as sure as the beating of his heart. It was as good a love story as any, but now Geralt had his bard and a tiny, hidden part of Eskel whispered “If Only.”

If only he and Geralt could lounge like Aiden and Lambert, to pet each others’ hair and share small kisses in the corners. If only Eskel really had Geralt for those three months. He had no doubt that the feelings were mutual, but something in their lives had been built apart, and it would take something powerful to shape them anew.

The next evening brought a blizzard. And Geralt.

It took both Aiden and Lambert to shut the door behind Geralt with the way the wind blew in around him. It curled and flickered shards of ice through the air that melted in the heat of the hall, dampening Geralt’s old, black cloak. Which he was holding around himself like a cocoon. Vesemir took Geralts cloak for him, which revealed what he’d been holding.

Huddled against Geralt, nose red and face pale, was a young man in a blue cloak.

Geralt bundled him in front of the fire without a word, pulling away the damp cloak and hanging it to dry. Vesemir brought blankets as Geralt pried the instrument case from the man’s hands.

A lute case.

Eskel’s pulse picked up. This was obviously the bard. This was Jaskier, Oxenfurt’s most prodigious poet. He’d studied with Rumi and Alighieri and Li Bai. In just a few years he’d reformed witchers’ reputations. They’d all been treated better these past few years. More money, less tar and feathers. Eskel went to sit beside Jaskier to beg him for stories but Geralt met his gaze, smiled softly, and shook his head.

Eskel restrained himself. Jaskier was clearly staving off shock from the cold, as well as hypothermia. Instead of doing what he really wanted to do (lay himself prone at Jaskier’s feet and worship his skill with words) he put on a kettle for tea.

Aiden and Lambert make eye contact with each other, nod to Geralt, and leave. Vesemir also makes a tactful retreat. This time was just for Eskel and Geralt. And the bard shivering on a pile of cushions next to the fire.

“He had a hard time on the Killer,” Geralt said, quietly.

“It’s called the Killer for a reason.”

“He begged me to come, I told him it would be too dangerous,” Geralt whispered. “He followed me and I couldn’t make him leave, that’s why I was late.”

“Vesemir’s been worried,” Eskel said, staring at the fire. He sat on the cushions, beside the bard, without taking his eyes from the coals. Geralt sat on the other side of Jaskier, rubbing carefully over the bard’s chilly hands, pulling off the woolen mittens and gently warming each knuckle.

“I had to go slower for him,” Geralt said. Between the two of them, the bard seemed mostly asleep. His eyelashes flickered on his cheeks, struggling to stay open.

“You can sleep,” Eskel whispered. “You’ll wake up, you’re cold but not in danger.” He took the other chilly hand. “Just sleep.”

Blue eyes slipped closed and Eskel took the kettle off the fire so it didn’t whistle.

“He was so desperate to be here, he wanted to see the Keep,” Geralt said. “And I wanted him to come. To meet you.”

“I did make you promise I’d get to meet him,” Eskel said, sitting back down and resting a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. “I think I’ve read everything he’s ever written.”

“That’s not why I wanted him to meet you,” Geralt said.

Eskel’s breath caught. They were talking about it, sort of. “I know,” he said.

The bard curled up a little, like a nautilus shell. Geralt lay down on the cushions behind him and Eskel made himself comfortable. Sleep and warmth and the smell of the pine fire lulled him slowly to sleep. Just as he was drifting off, Jaskier reached out in his sleep and placed one hand, less chilly than it was, on Eskel’s arm. It stayed there until the morning.

“So True Love’s Waste wasn’t inspired by a person?” Eskel asked over breakfast, mouth full of porridge.

Jaskier shook his head, gulping down hot tea. “No, I was out on a bender with some friends and we saw this washerwoman’s cat trying to catch a soap bubble, right?”

Eskel nodded, entranced.

“It was so totally focused on catching this soap bubble, it’s eyes were all wide and determined, like all it wanted was the bubble, but when it caught the bubble...”

“It popped,” Eskel laughed. “And you wrote a poem that has been deemed the best love poem of the last hundred years about it.”

Jaskier chuckled. “Art is more trite and derivative than people think.”

Eskel reached out and touched Jaskier’s wrist, looking into those heavily-lashed eyes. “Your work could never be called trite, or derivative.”

Behind Jaskier, Eskel saw something flash in Geralt’s eyes, and he stood from the table, clearing his plate, but then Jaskier was telling a story about Rumi, his former professor, and Eskel’s attention was diverted.

The next week passed in peace, for the most part. Repairs to the keep were ongoing, but halted when the snow was heavy. Vesemir kept them training and the library, neglected by all but Eskel, kept Jaskier busy. At mealtimes and in the evenings Eskel and Jaskier chatted about art and music and life on the Path. But Geralt was subdued, something tired and sad gleaming in his golden eyes. He wouldn’t talk about it, and he fled when Eskel tried.

It hurt, that Geralt suddenly wouldn’t talk to him, but Eskel knew the white wolf better than anyone, so he cornered him in the training yard one afternoon and pinned him down.

“Talk. To. Me,” he panted, grinding Geralt’s shoulders into the flagstones.

“Nothing to say,” Geralt grunted.

“Bullshit.”

“Nothing!”

“You keep hiding! It’s not nothing!”

Geralt kicked his feet up, flipping them both over and freeing himself. He stood over Eskel who was still laying on the ground. “You can have him,” he said, beginning to walk away.

Eskel snagged his ankle, bringing his idiot wolf down to the ground without remorse. “You’re stupid.”

“I’m not, he adores you. You have so much in common, it makes sense.”

Eskel remembered the conversation of the year before. Please don’t take my bard.

“I’m not taking your lover boy from you,” he snapped.

“He’s not my lover boy.”

“He would be if you would only ask him.”

“He deserves better.”

“He wants you.”

“He wants you,” Geralt howled. “He looks at you like you got out a ladder and personally nailed the moon to the sky. Every time you talk he hangs on your words.”

“He looks at you the same way,” Eskel said, quietly. “And I...” He paused. This was so close to the thing they never talked about.

“You don’t look at me that way,” Geralt whispered.

“But I feel it all the same.”

The admission rang in the empty training yard, despite it being barely a whisper.

“I want you to have him, to be with him, because the two of you are made for eachother. It was obvious to me before you’d even met. I just wish,” Geralt stopped, his voice growing tight.

“What do you wish?”

“I just hate that it hurts so much. I love you both, I do, so so much, and all I want is you two happy, and you’ll be happy together, but I just wish it didn’t cut me out.”

Eskel rolled over and bumped his forehead to Geralt’s. There were tear tracks in the dirt there. “It doesn’t have to. That’s a silly rule and you made it up for yourself. I love you both and he loves us both, so you can have us both.”

Geralt sat up, bringing Eskel with him, then pulled him into a kiss that burned. It was a simple press of their lips together but Eskel felt like he’d been struck by lightning.

“Oh,” came a quiet voice from the nearby doorway. Jaskier was standing there, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “I’ll just--”

“Stay,” Eskel said, chuckling. He pulled Jaskier down to sit on the flagstones with them. “I think Geralt has something he wants to tell you.”

Geralt looked nervous. He swallowed a couple times, eyes darting over Jaskier’s face. “I...” He said. “Um, what Eskel means is that... um, I”

“Oh you great big oaf,” Eskel said. “Jaskier, he loves you, he’s absolutely mad about you. He just can’t say it because he loves me too and it’s taken him the better part of a century to tell me.”

Jaskier beamed, his blush growing. “And you?” he said.

“I’m not sure I love you yet,” Eskel said. “But I think I will.”

“I think I will too,” Jaskier said, then he leaned in and brushed a soft kiss to Eskel’s lips, off center, so it brushed his scar and part of his cheek too. Then he kissed Geralt the same way.

“Aiden’s going to be so pissed that he lost the bet,” Jaskier said, as if he hadn’t just rocked both witchers’ worlds with a mere kiss. “He bet Lambert you wouldn’t figure it out until next week.”

“You knew,” Eskel said, touching the tips of his fingers to where his face was still tingling from the kiss.

“They way Geralt talks about you, well...” Jaskier said, smiling at Geralt. “And then the way you talk about him,” he smiled at Eskel. “And the way you both look at me, I knew. I just wasn’t sure you knew.” His smile shifted into something bashful and a little insecure. It was an odd look on his normally confident face. “And it seemed too much to assume you both would really want me, I’m not all,” he gestured at his shoulders and arms, obviously comparing their builds.

Eskel couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle. “We don’t care about that,” he said, carding his hand through Jaskier’s hair and revelling in the way the bard leaned into his touch. “I’ve seen Geralt with a face full of pimples, and I mean full, and that was back when he was calling himself Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde. It isn’t about looks.” He trailed his eyes across Jaskier. “And even if it was we wouldn’t find you wanting.”

“He’s right,” Geralt said, pressing a little kiss right behind Jaskier’s ear. “We find nothing about you wanting.”

“You both are going to leave me wanting if you’re not careful,” Jaskier whined, borderline laciviously. He leaned back against Geralt and pulled Eskel closer, kissing Eskel’s cheek chastely in spite of his words. When he turned to kiss Geralt’s cheek too Eskel nuzzled closer, feeling Geralt’s arms pull him into the pair of them.

“You have to promise to write me into your poetry, after all this,” he said.

Jaskier laughed, head tilting back and eyes crinkling at the corners. “As if I haven’t already,” he whispered.

Three months later the great bard Jaskier debuted his latest poetry anthology. Silver and Steel was praised by academics across the continent, although the line about being eaten alive was highly debated. Jaskier’s sudden penchant for high collars might have answered the questions, but he wasn’t about to give away the secret.

#jaskel #geralt x jaskier x eskel #this is stupid but happy #less funny than the first bit #but more cute #the witcher #jaskier is a famous bard #eskel is his fanboy #geralt loves them both very much

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dokifluffs · 4 years ago

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Overfeeding and Aftercare | Tendo, Himekawa, Miya Twins

Pairings: Tendo X Reader (gender neutral), Himekawa X Reader (gender neutral), Osamu X Reader X Atsumu (not romantically though) ((gender neutral))

Genre: v a m p i r e, fluffffff, fantasyyyy

Author’s Note: asdkakahd fantasyyyyy i love fantasy so much so i hope yiu all enjoy!! Happy reading!!

Warnings: blood, passing out from loss of blood

Overfeeding and Aftercare | Kenma, Bokuto, Kuroo

Tendo:

The night sky was clear with not even a cloud floating in the sky, the crisp air flowing through your slightly open window, keeping your room cool throughout the night

You could hear the outside world so clearly- the crickets in the grass, the owls hooting in their trees, occasional sounds from other students’ in their own dorms

Testing season had fallen over university and it was time for everyone to spend this next month studying their eyes out, including you

You had been stuck in your room all day, leaving your seat at your desk as sparingly as possible to use the bathroom and to eat

Your stomach grumbled for the nth time tonight just thinking about dinner with your friends that you had to miss, instead stuck with a few granola bars you had left instead

There was absolutely no time to waste and you were on a clear schedule you made for yourself to get the most out of studying yet it meant sleeping and even eating less

Your single dorm was empty, simple and plain to your liking though you wished there were more pops of color to make it actually feel more enjoyable as you stayed in here

A small pile of clothes was formed in the corner of the room right outside your closet doors, your bed unmade from this morning when you woke

Your lamp light flickered from the old bulb that was near the end of its usable life

“No, no, no, not now,” your voice frantic, eyes heavy and body begging for sleep and sustenance as the light finally went out, a large gust of wind blowing through your window, making the pages of your notebook and textbooks flip

The pale moonlight shined in onto your desk as it peeked from beyond the tall oak tree that sat right outside your window

You groaned, your voice bouncing off the painted over concrete blocks of your dorm walls that matched everyone else’s as you leaned back in your chair

It was a weird feeling- your head spinning slowly, the burning sensation in your eyes as they watered when you finally shut them, pressing the palm of your hand over your eyes and forehead to relieve all the pressures you had pent up

“You’re up quite late…” You jumped in your seat, heart skipping a beat at the sudden silky voice of Tendo in your ears

His crimson eyes glowed in the dark, his two red orbs looking directly into your tired ones as you sat up in your seat, spinning to face him

He wore an oversized uni shirt that flowed with the breeze in the room, his hair down and the ends of his red locks obscuring his vision ever so slightly

“Don’t tell me you want to become nocturnal, now~” he teased playfully as he reached down, his icy hands taking yours in his, amused hearing the way you swallowed when he touched you

He tilted his head into your hand, his skin pleasantly cold against your worn, hot one from all the writing you did to review your notes and course

“I’m just studying, Satori. Are you hungry, again?” You asked, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone

“Always,” he mumbled into your skin as he narrowed looking down to you, bending himself down ever so slightly as your arm was stretched upward in his grasp

He lowered his head, never breaking his gaze with you as he brought his lips across your flawless skin, his mouth already salivating at the faint feeling and sound of your blood pumping through your ulnar artery in your wrist

He closed his eyes as he closed his lips around your wrist, his teeth sinking in, humming in delight at the sensation of your blood over his tongue

You let out a wince at the pinching feeling

He removed himself from your wrist, the dark liquid slowly dripping from his teeth marks as he licked his lips

“You haven’t been eating properly, Y/N,” his voice dropped as your name rolled off his tongue. “You taste different,” he said almost disappointedly yet sounded completely different

You couldn’t tell if it was the darkness in the room with the moon shining behind the leaves and branches of the tree but it seemed his eyes were glowing even brighter

“I need to make sure you take care of yourself or else my meals won’t be as enjoyable anymore~” he cooed as he licked up the blood gliding down your arm, the corners of his lips curling in enjoyment when he felt your arm tense up as his tongue dragged up your arm

You bit your lip feeling his teeth sink back into the bite he made, taking in your blood to fill his hunger

The pads of his fingers holding your hand squeezed as he held your hand, stretching it

Your breaths grew longer and deeper, your vision clouding as your eyelids grew heavier and heavier

You let out a big yawn, your body letting go

Tendo caught you in his arms as you almost collapsed to the ground from your seat, never letting your body even touch the cold tiled floor

He lapped his tongue over his bite before he let go of your wrist once again, bringing you to your bed before laying you down, joining beside you

He licked your wrist until it stopped bleeding as you caught up on some much needed rest

“You should’ve taken care of yourself more,” he playfully poked your forehead, brushing your hair with his fingers, your body naturally curling and moving impossibly closer to his to reach the cool feel of his body in your sleep

Your nose was filled with the scent of tendo, his hand holding yours as you peeked open your tired eyes, tilting your head up on your pillow to meet his red eyes

“Good morning~” he chimed happily after being awake all night since he never needed sleep ever since he became immortal. “You really needed that,” he brushed his index finger down the bridge of your nose, smiling at the way your cheek was squished into your pillow

“Today, you’re taking a break and I’m going to make sure you eat and stay hydrated properly,” he leaned forward and kissed your forehead before you let out a small “mm” before closing your eyes again, bringing your forehead to his chest, his hand resting on your back draped over your side, legs intertwined on your bed

He hummed content holding you close, imprinting the feel and shape of your body close with his, relishing in your warmth, one he hadn’t felt in a while

It was a feeling he was determined to get used to for the rest of his immortal life

Himekawa:

“Aoi, I’m here,” you shed off your raincoat and slipped out of your partially rained on shoes, calling into the darkened house, the curtains closed tightly to not let a single ounce of light in from anywhere. “Aoi?” You called into what seemed like an empty house

No movement or signs of anything or anyone

You walked carefully through the eerily dark house as rain showered over the house and entire neighborhood

“Aoi?” You knocked in his bedroom door standing ajar, creaking open with a haunting whine that made goosebumps rise over your arms

You shuffled in seeing the dark lump of his covers bundled up shift at the sound of your voice

“What’re you doing in there?” You peeked through a small opening that showed his face buried in the plush covers. “It’s time to feed, Aoi, it’s been too long.”

You tried to remove the blanket from him but was unable to budge

Ever since he changed, feeding became the thing he absolutely hated the most yet it was the one thing he needed to do

His eyes glowed bright red in the dark, no light natural or artificial could hold a candle to his eyes when they shined

He shook his head, one of the things he always did before he had to give in to feeding

He spent weeks after weeks, starving himself if it meant he didn’t have to feed on anyone or anything, most importantly, you but this also meant him gradually losing his strength

There were too many times in his early years where the hunger took over his humanity although no longer being one but what little he had left, even if he had to act like it, he wanted to keep it

This was a life he never asked for but he didn’t want a wooden stake through his heart or for his body to petrify- he didn’t want the bloodlust to consume him from the inside out again

“I know you don’t like this but you’re starving,” your voice was the calm in his storm that never went away as you brushed your fingers through his soft locks as they slid in between. “Please? I promise you won’t hurt me, you know I won’t let you.”

You could hear his quivering voice when he told you about his nightmares, seeing them so vividly at night, he could taste all the blood of those he had unintentionally drained, the horrors of what he was capable of, what he did to so many innocent people and the ones he loved most in the world

All he had left was you and he never wanted to lose you

He hesitantly sat up, the blankets falling off os his back and pooling all around his body, his fists clenched over his thighs, gaze avoiding yours

You pricked your index finger with a safety pin, bringing it to his lips

He gently took your hand in his, barely holding yours, his skin icy to the touch, it felt like as if he was standing outside during winter with nothing to keep him warm

He could feel his fangs protruding when his tongue made contact with the bead of your blood that formed on your fingertip and sucked

It was like an instant feeling when one drank water after being dehydrated for a day, however, in this case, it was hunger and thirst combined for weeks for Himekawa

Nothing had ever tasted so good in his lifetime

A shiver ran down your spine feeling his sharp teeth graze down the side of your finger, his lips ghosting over your palm before they found the soft spot in your palm, his teeth biting in and sinking into what felt like your radial artery

You winced at the pain but clamped your mouth shut, not wanting Aoi to stop because he surely would

It took a lot to get him to feed and almost nothing to get him to stop

He let the taste overcome him, all the fears he had was slowly dissipating as the black hole of hunger was taking over his mind

You blinked away, taking deep breaths as you kept yourself sitting upright, ignoring the sudden feeling of your body temperature dropping, the sudden rapid beating of your heart in your chest

You could feel your head drooping, swaying side to side as your vision blurred, the room beginning to spinning all around you

You bit into your knuckle, squeezing your eyes shut as you struggled to keep yourself conscious

He could feel all the energy and his strength returning with every ounce he consumed but fear pierced through his chest sharper than any stake when your body collapsed to the ground

His body froze seeing your unconscious body on the ground

You could hear soft whimpers in your ear, slowly becoming clearer and clearer as you slowly regained consciousness

“Y/N,” Aoi choked on his breaths with his eyes swelled and red from all the tears he cried and continued to drip off his chin. “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed, apologizing profusely as you woke, his hand automatically reaching for yours but instantly pulling back feeling the bandage he wrapped your hand in

He felt so heart broken, he wanted to disappear from existence the moment he realized you collapsed

It made him sick to his stomach despite ever being unable to feel sick

“I’m a monster,” he sunk back on his knees

“No, no, Aoi, you’re not,” you sat up, the damp towel he laid on your head falling onto his bed you laid on. “You are no monster to anyone,” you cupped his face, playfully squishing his wet cheeks, using your sleeves to wipe him dry

“You’ve been alive for centuries and who you are now is not the same person as centuries ago.” You pulled him close, peppering kisses to his forehead

“But I almost killed you.” He wanted to so badly to rip himself out of your hold so you wouldn’t have to touch him, touch someone who was supposed to love you yet almost ended your life

“But you didn’t and I’m still here and I will be til the end,” you reassured and hugged him close, pulling him to stand and making room beside you in his bed, your turn to dissipate his fears while more content that he actually fed compared to the past times

The Twins:

Ravens cawed at you, perched on the branches of the oak trees in front of the house of your best friends, Osamu and Atsumu

As soon as you knocked on their front door, it felt as if life had fast forwarded itself now that you were suddenly upstairs

This always happened whenever you came over- it was feeding time

Your eyes were always squeezed shut and it felt like the breath was taken out of your lungs whenever either of them brought you inside to wherever they planned to feed on you

“You can open your eyes,” Osamu’s voice calm and light in your ear as your feet made contact with the plush rug over the cold wooden floors

He took your hand in his, his touch icy to your warm, living skin, as he led you toward one of the lounging chairs by the fireplace as the wooden logs crackled in the flame

“About time, I’m starvin’” Atsumu pushes himself off the couch and snatching your grasp out of Osamu’s, bringing you to the couch

But Osamu didn’t let go. He was much more gentle with you than Atsumu, the more hangry of them two

Your back was pressed into Osamu’s chest with your legs stretched out, Atsumu already advancing between your legs, preferring to feed from your thighs and Osamu your neck

You had been their feeder for what felt like sll your life at this point, but it always made you squeamish

“Stop squirmin’,” Atsumu grumbled hungrily as he firmly held down your legs as he spread them, his breath tickling you before he found his spot and sunk his teeth in

You let out a small yelp, adjusting to the feeling

Osamu’s body was cool to the feel even through yours and his clothes

Unlike his brother, he was a lot gentler with you

Looping his arm from behind around your head, he gently tilted it to the side with the guidance of his fingers loosely holding your jaw

“I won’t make it hurt as bad,” he whispered into your ear, making your heart race, you wondered if he could feel or even hear it

He ghosted his lips along your shoulder and neck until he found his spot, slowly bringing his teeth to your skin and pierced through your skin like needles

Atsumu repositioned his fangs, holding your leg up, digging his fingers into your thighs that would be sure to leave bruises, biting deeper into your flesh to taste as much as he could

Osamu held one of your hands from behind, the other moving from your jaw to your eyes, tilting your head back

It felt as if Osamu’s grasp on your hand was tightening as a wave of fatigue washed through your body

The crackling sound of the fire began to echo and drift around your darkened vision from Osamu’s hand covering your eyes, your heart beat gradually slowing down until your consciousness slipped away

Osamu’s eyes opened as he removed himself from your neck, his hunger satiated, his bite clean and pressed a gauze from his pocket to your neck when he felt your body go limp in his hold

“Atsumu, stop.” He kicked his brother off of your thigh, only for the blonde one to latch back on, biting into your other thigh with ease

“I said. Stop.” Osamu pulled you closer as your crimson liquid came out of Atsumu’s messy, numerous bites

Atsumu’s hunger was insatiable after having to wait a week every single time you fed them and this time, he was worse than the last

He glared at his brother, eyes glowing bright red even with the fireplace illuminating the entire room as Osamu held you close, your body curled up in his lap as his own eyes glowing at his twin

Your mind slowly began to wake as your eyes fluttered open

You could hear your heart beating slowly in your ears as if you were asleep- yet you were awake

Your hands felt about as you laid still in a dim bedroom with the curtains closed and a small lamp on a desk in the corner of the room

“Finally awake,” Atsumu huffed

Sitting up, your arms trembled weakly holding your body up

You didn’t even notice the twin until he moved in his seat beside the bed, your nose filling with the scent of Osamu but also the scent of Atsumu

“You’ve been out for the last three hours,” he sounded almost annoyed as you leaned back and rested into the pillows, half your face pressed into the bed you assumed was Osamu’s based on the smell

“Take it easy,” he pulled the blanket a bit higher over your body with a sigh

You were dressed in a big, dark red long sleeve you assumed was Atsumu’s

“Out.” You could hear Osamu’s voice as the door opened with a thud as it hit the wall. Atsumu grumbled beneath his breath as he got up from his seat, closing the door firmly behind him

Osamu came into vision as he brought the tray with something hot sitting upon it, steam rising from it but whatever it was, it smelled delicious

He peeked his head to you as he sat in the seat Atsumu sat in moments ago, pulling the seat closer

“I’m sorry for my brother... you know how ‘tsumtsum gets when he’s hungry,” he sighed. “How do you feel?” He asked, moving the blanket down from your face ever so slightly to see more of you

“Tired like I could sleep... forever,” you yawned, the tear rolling from your eye, over the bridge of your nose to the pillows

“You need to eat, I made some soup.” Osamu helped sit you up, careful with his strength before he poured you a bowl of soup, insisting on spoor feeding you when he felt how weak you really were

The hot liquid went down your throat, the savory taste lingering on your tastebuds and fed a hunger in your stomach you weren’t even aware of until now

For the rest of the night, Osamu and Atsumu took turns looking over you, mostly Osamu, though so he could change your gauzes, making sure their bites weren’t causing injections

Though it never really seemed like it, Atsumu was grateful having you in his and his brother’s life, feeding them, continuing to come back even after all the times he over fed from you

He peeked beneath the gauze to make sure he didn’t actually hurt you as you slept, bidding the two of them farewell till next week

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @osamuonigiri @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing@plantisnotplant @k-eijiakaashi @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan@turquoiselace @macaronnv @oxmaddy @mrkoala4prsdnt @curiouslilbeast @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita @lovinnoya

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blueflamebimbo · 4 years ago

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Bakugou x Reader - Not Butterflies

Shit hits the fan and you both have to stop thinking like heroes and more like a couple to fix it.

Dedicated to: @silenceofthecookies Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort Word count: 3K

The glare of the television screen only added to the discomfort you felt each time you checked your phone with no good news to show for it. There were no notifications, not a single sign of life that would put your mind at ease and keep you from worrying. You were met with only the changing of the hour as the room darkened around you. You were bundled up on the couch, a fleece blanket wrapped tightly around you serving as the only comfort you could provide for yourself.

Katsuki wasn’t big on texting. Small talk was not something he would actively engage in face to face, let alone through text. Even so, you could always count on him letting you know each time he had finished for the day and would be on his way home. After the two of you had graduated from UA, you had moved back into your parents’ place for a few months in search for an apartment. That was nearly two years ago, and the apartment you shared with your boyfriend of four years was finally starting to look like a home. The television set-up no longer balanced on cardboard boxes, the messy suitcases had been replaced by an actual wardrobe and the cutlery in the kitchen finally matched. Even Katsuki’s reluctantly softened features were put on display throughout the living space in the form of polaroid pictures that had been haphazardly pinned to the walls with thumb tacks. To a stranger it seemed like a cozy home shared by two people who spent their days enjoying each other’s company, which wasn’t exactly the case - not now, at least.

Moving in together had seemed like the obvious next step in your relationship, and it had been save for the slight miscalculation in the quality time department. As pro heroes, you were both doing well. This was definitely a plus when it came to learning how to deal with finances and the like, but working a lot also meant spending less time at the home front than you had initially anticipated. Your mutual friends seemed to be solving this issue through the form of communication, but unfortunately that was something neither Katsuki nor you excelled at.

With Katsuki, communication had always been simple in the sense that there had never been that much to argue about so heavy conversations rarely occurred and, even if they did occur, they were always solved by either one of you simply giving their opinion and, if needed, compromising. The difference was that, back then, there had been more opportunities for the both of you to sit down and have a conversation. There had been more time spent together: between classes, after assignments and even late at night before bedtime, though the latter often poked at both of your bad tempers and resulted in an explosive discussion, excuse the pun.

Right now, Katsuki was letting the pro hero rankings get to his head, causing him to take on the longest and hardest assignments he could get and resulting in him barely spending any time at home. It had come to a point where you felt anxious going grocery shopping, not knowing if you should bother buying groceries for two people, since Katsuki’s serving often lay forgotten in the fridge after he’d get home in the middle of the night, tired and already having eaten on the way home. You barely felt him crawl into bed with you, only to feel him leaving long before the sun was back up. It felt like he was starting to slip. Like he was drifting away from your relationship with him and towards a world that revolved only around his job. It was a very Katsuki thing to do, but, seeing as he’d grown up a lot since his first years at UA, it was disheartening to see him slip back into old habits without a chance to discuss your worries with him.

That same dread filled you as the moonlight streamed into the living room, another indication of how terribly late it was getting. He was supposed to be home by now. Katsuki had planned a meeting with Hatsume, who had become one of the best in her own ways, to discuss some adjustments to Katsuki’s hero costume. That type of meeting wasn’t supposed to take long, so when you came home to an empty apartment after your own assignments, you had felt your stomach drop. Part of you had tried to stay optimistic as you prepared dinner, but as the clock ticked and the hours seemed rush by, Katsuki’s food ended up in the fridge and you had to endure dinner by yourself once again. That was how you had anxiously made your way to the couch with a cup of tea in hand.

You checked your phone once again, but to no avail. It was starting to overwhelm you. This was not what you had signed up for. It wasn’t often that you let yourself get this emotional over Katsuki, because it was rarely this serious, but this time it was starting to feel like you had hit a dead end. Was this really the way things were going to end? With him growing out of your relationship and deciding that that was fine, while you were left feeling empty and staring into the void with the white noise of a once shared television set in the background, alone on a couch where you had spent some of your softest moments together? The Katsuki you knew couldn’t be that cruel...

... Could he?

The sound of the front door slamming shut made your heart stutter and you watched the blond step into the living room, looking stoic and cold as he eyed you. He was standing just a few feet away, but he’d never seemed further away, not even on that day you first made eye contact from across the room back in your second year at UA.

“So much for spending time together, huh?”

The tone of his voice matched his features with an crispness that chilled you inside and out.

Your eyebrows knit together, slowly realising that he was somehow making you feel responsible for the situation you were in. “Excuse you? If you wanted to spend time so much, then you had every opportunity to do so, I’d say. I’ve been waiting here for you all night. I’m always waiting. How am I to blame, here?”

Katsuki’s features hardened even further, evolving into a look you’d never seen him direct at you. “You have got to be kidding me. For once, I was trying to do the right thing here--”

“Do the right thing? By leaving me here by myself again? Do you think I like preparing food I know you won’t eat? Do you think I like going to sleep and waking up in a cold bed?”

“You had a choice--!”

Bakugou was trying his hardest not to burst out into explosive yelling, and you could see that frustration was getting the better of him. You couldn’t understand what he was getting at. How did you ever have a choice in him not being there when you wanted-- needed him to be there?

Before you could say anything else, Bakugou had made a beeline towards the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it behind him. That’s when you noticed your eyes burning with tears you were too stubborn to shed. With trembling legs, you went to sit down onto the couch once again, and you wondered if sleeping in your shared bed tonight was even a good idea.

Bakugou’s POV

The days were becoming longer and harsher as Bakugou barely got any sleep, spending his nights staring at the sleeping person next to him -- the one he wanted to impress the most, the one he so desperately wanted to make happy. But he was failing to do so, he could feel it. You barely spent time together, but Bakugou figured that if he became the best, then he would be able to make you proud of him and then life would get easier. Maybe if he achieved his goals faster, he would be able to spend his life by your side comfortably, knowing that he could provide easily and knowing he was doing the best that he could possibly do. The stolen forehead kisses in the middle of the night were left only for him to remember as he watched your resting form, and they were the only thing that kept him going these days. He needed them to get over the heartache that came with the sight of his dinner in the fridge. He was disappointing you. He wasn’t there, couldn’t be good enough. He needed to work harder, be stronger, be better for you.

Back at AU it was easier to assume that he was the best, surrounded by background characters who turned out not to be too terrible to be around. It was easier to imagine that you were proud of him, back then. Once he became a pro hero, though, it seemed like every time he proved his worth as he defeated one villain, an other, stronger villain would provide an even bigger challenge, one that he sometimes couldn’t tackle by himself. He simply wasn’t the best he could be yet, and you deserved the best. But he could see the dried tears on your cheeks late at night, and could hear the nightmares that he had no way of saving you from. Something had to happen. He had to fix this, because it was tearing the two of you apart.

That day, he had met up with Hatsume, who seemed to notice the way Katsuki wasn’t entirely himself. He seemed tired, too tired to even make snide remarks to some of the adjustments Hatsume had suggested. After she’d left, he’d sent you a quick text, asking you to meet him for dinner at your favourite restaurant, so you could finally have a decent conversation. He then went to take care of a few errands before he headed straight to the restaurant, waiting outside and only sporadically checking his phone for the time.

When at first you didn’t respond, let alone join him at the restaurant, he’d felt his heart break, feeling as though you were giving up on him after all. He knew... He knew you weren’t happy with how things were, but he had hoped that maybe you would still give him a chance to fix things, even though he had no idea how he was supposed to do that without giving up on his goals. If making Bakugou give up on his life goals was the only way you would be happy... You would never be that egocentric...

...Would you?

By the time the sun went down and you still hadn’t replied, he felt his anxiety and despair slowly evolve into anger. The least you could do is talk to him about the situation. You owed him that much.

He become so overwhelmed that he ended up sprinting his way back to the shared apartment, where he felt his last nerve being blown up by your behaviour. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to spend time with you. It wasn’t like he hadn’t offered to have a conversation with you, so why wouldn’t you admit that you just didn’t take the chance to fix things?

He needed time to cool off. A cold shower would soothe his nerves. He couldn’t stand watching you fall apart when he had clearly done what he thought was right. It was a two way street, no?

After his shower, he changed into some PJ shorts and a freshly washed shirt. The scent of the fabric softener reminded him of the sheets he found you bundled up in every night, and for some reason it broke his heart once again. He grit his teeth and gripped the edge of the bathroom sink, watching his knuckles turn ivory as he willed himself not to give into emotions that would make him lose control over his composure. He took a few slow breaths and then straightened his back, deciding to clean up after himself and throw his clothes into the hamper. As he did so, his wallet and his phone clattered onto the tiles, making him curse under his breath. He picked them up with a sigh and then checked to see if his phone was still alive.

The clock signalled that it was almost midnight, and he noticed a small crack in the screen right above it, next to the aeroplane icon that signalled...

His phone was on aeroplane mode. How...

That’s when it hit him. Katsuki had put his phone on aeroplane mode during the meeting with Hatsume, and hadn’t touched the settings afterwards. He gulped, feeling a shiver crawling up his spine as he realised just how badly he had fucked up and unlocked his phone.

His text message to you had never been sent.

With dread filling his entire being, he changed the settings and watched several text messages arrive.

[5.21 PM: Y/N] I’m making stew tonight! You’ll be home for dinner, right? [6:45 PM: Y/N] Almost done. Are you close? [7:33 PM: Y/N] I’ll go ahead and eat... I’ll save you some in the fridge... [9:01 PM: Y/N] ...Is everything all right? [10:53 PM: Y/N] Katsuki...?

With a heavy heart, he locked his phone screen once again and unlocked the bathroom door. He padded his way towards the kitchen and made two cups of tea, carefully bringing them over to the living room and setting them down on the coffee table.

He could barely look you in the eye as he pulled out his phone and showed you the message he never actually sent.

His voice was rough when he muttered a soft “I’m sorry. I put my phone on aeroplane mode when I met up with Hatsume. I had no idea. I-- I fucked up. I’m sorry.”

Your POV

When Katsuki came out of the bathroom looking frustrated but infinitely less pissed, you felt a sense of hope bloom in your chest. Even though it was late, you hoped you could at least clear up a thing or two, because you still had no idea what had just happened.

The scent of the tea that hit your senses calmed you down, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of the dip in the couch cushion as Katsuki took a seat next to you. When he showed you his phone, it suddenly became painfully clear what had happened.

After you’d processed what had happened, you felt your throat close up once again. “You idiot...” You looked over at him and watched how he was stubbornly looking at a small stain on the carpet but looking ten different kinds of defeated. “You... absolute idiot.”

He didn’t seem opposed to the insult... not this time.

“Did you wait at the restaurant all this time?”

He reached out for his cup of tea and took a tentative sip, after which he nodded. “At first I thought you were punishing me. Since I’m never home for dinner anymore, I thought you would let me wait a while before showing up, and I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

You scoffed, frowning into the steam that rose from your cup. “I’ve not been... happy about that, but I would never do that to you, Katsuki.”

Katsuki’s nose scrunched up slightly, signalling that he was getting frustrated again. “I just keep fucking up. I keep fucking up and it’s pissing me off because you deserve better, I promised to take care of you--”

“Take care of me?” Your frown intensified, “Katsuki we’re supposed to take care of each other. And that doesn’t mean working so hard you’re barely functioning. I thought you were past all that. I’m behind you and your aspirations 100%, but you know there’s more to life than just proving your worth.”

But he shook his head, “This isn’t about proving my worth anymore, it’s gone beyond that.” He looked up, “It’s about proving your worth. Ours. I want to be good enough for us, and I don’t think I am.”

“Being good enough for us does not include missing out on quality time, Katsuki. It does not include skipping on affection and it definitely doesn’t include not talking to your partner. You are good enough for us, Katsuki, but you have to be around for me to be able to show you that.”

Katsuki looked guilty more than he looked frustrated, then. After a long pause, he nodded in agreement and placed his tea back down onto the coffee table. He kept his gaze fixed on the cup as he tensed his shoulders as if he was bracing himself for what he was about to say. “Y/N... I am really, really sorry.” He looked up, locking his gaze with yours. “I will do better, I promise.”

At this point, you put your cup down as well and placed your hand on Katsuki’s thigh, your features softening slightly. “I know you will. We both will.”

“Do you still love me, Y/N?” He still had a serious expression stretched across his features, but there was a glint of softness in his eyes.

With an unnecessarily heavy sigh, you nodded. “Yeah-- I really do.”

“Good,” Katsuki nodded, taking a moment to remove your hand from his thigh and turn his body towards you, slowly closing the distance between the two of you. The sudden proximity made a shiver crawl up your spine, a sweet smile matching Katsuki’s gaze in softness.

Finally, the sentiment made the corners of Katsuki’s lips curl up, forming a smile that you knew he only shot your way when he knew he was going to make you feel like he wanted to give you the world. The tip of his nose slowly rubbed up and down along yours as his eyelids lowered. When his lips met yours, weeks upon weeks of affection exploded between the two of you, spreading like a frenzy throughout your body. It barely registered how Katsuki cupped you’re jaw as his lips moved along yours. When he pulled back, all you could do was blink up at him, and that did not escape his attention.

“Butterflies?” he asked.

You shook your head slowly, smiling. “Dynamite.”

#bakugou x reader #reader insert #bakugou #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou imagine #bnha imagine #bakugou katsuki #angst #hurt/comfort #domestic fluff #pro hero au #silenceofthecookies #.bimboscribbles

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haledamage · 3 years ago

Note

"you deserve good things." for whoever strikes your fancy ;D

I realized after I finished this that I don’t actually know if you’ve played Neverwinter Nights 2 before 😅 but it’s written now, so here you go! if you haven’t played NWN2, you should, this game is for me what KOTOR is for you 💖

Etain/Casavir, mutual pining my beloved, sometime in the early days in Crossroads Keep, spoiler-free except for one very vague reference to in-game events

---

Etain found Casavir right where she expected to, in one of the rooms that hadn’t yet been furnished enough to see much use beyond one paladin seeking solitude. This one was fully constructed, at least, and had a fire crackling merrily in the hearth, though it wasn’t quite enough to chase away the chill that seemed to radiate from the very stones of Crossroads Keep.

There was a pile of old furniture against the wall opposite the hearth, some of it little more than splintered wood while others seemed to be fine except for a bit of threadbare upholstery and a lot of dust. Casavir had managed to find a few chairs that were in working condition, and had saved them from their fate as firewood. One of them had been repurposed into a table, holding a well-loved book and a steaming mug, while he sat in another one with a piece of his armor in his lap, meticulously repairing a ripped seam. The rest of his armor lay in a neat pile next to him, his sword and shield propped against the wall next to the fireplace - within reach, as always, just in case.

A third chair sat across from him, empty and inviting. Etain took its presence as offer enough, and slid into it cautiously in case it couldn’t support her weight. It creaked loudly before settling, announcing her arrival with more fanfare than she would have preferred.

Casavir looked up from his sewing, the warmth that bloomed in his pale eyes as they met hers doing more to dispel the cold than the roaring fire. He bowed his head to her, as formal and solemn as always. “Good evening, my lady.”

“Hey.” She flushed at her own comparative lack of decorum, and added a mumbled, “I mean, good evenin’.” He chuckled quietly, the sound clearly intended to be kind rather than mocking, though it also made her blush darker.

“Is there something you need of me?” His voice wasn’t quite hesitant, but it was the closest to it she’d ever heard. While his face betrayed nothing - it rarely did - he tensed, sitting up straighter in his chair. He looked like he was about to reach for his sword, as if he expected trouble; she was starting to realize that he always expected trouble.

In his defense, trouble did tend to find them - and her in particular - more often than could be explained away as coincidence.

“Relax. There’s no emergency or anythin’. I just, um…” Etain bit her lip nervously, digging around in her pocket until she found the little cloth bundle she had hidden in there.

“You what?” he asked patiently. He set his sewing down on the floor next to him and relaxed back into his chair, slowly untensing.

“I have a gift for you,” she said in a rush, thrusting the bundle at him. He took it much more delicately than she had presented it. “A little bird may’ve told me that your morn day was a few days ago. I wanted to get you somethin’.”

The ‘little bird’ had been Katriona, but truly his birthday was just a convenient excuse. She'd bought the gift weeks ago - not that she would tell him that.

Casavir ran his fingers over the soft green cloth square as if trying to map the shape of the item within it before unwrapping it. The corner of his mouth rose with the beginning of a smile, though he didn’t let it fully bloom. “It was kind of you to think of me, my lady, but you did not need to trouble yourself on my account.”

“It’s no trouble. Really.” She laughed as he still made no move to open the gift, and nudged the toe of his boot with her own. “C’mon, open it.”

He studied the cloth for another long moment before carefully unfolding it. In it was a bronze cloak pin about the size of his palm, simple but well-made and shaped like a sword and shield. On the shield was a crescent moon, curved like a bow and crossed by an arrow - the symbol that had been chosen as Etain’s heraldry when she’d been knighted.

His old cloak pin, a dented and battered shield bearing Tyr’s scales, had been his gift to her before her trial, a token of his faith in her that had helped her through one of the darkest nights of her life. But that had been over a month ago, and he hadn’t gotten a new one yet; he’d been using an unadorned one since. It was only appropriate that she replace it, since she’d taken his old one.

Part of her felt like it was arrogant to give Casavir a pin with her own mark on it, but she knew his bond with Tyr was a complicated thing, and his relationship with Neverwinter was tenuous at best, so they were both out of the question. He’d cut so many ties that, when you took those two away, all he had left was… this. This room, this half-ruined keep, and its Harborman commander.

“It’s lovely,” he said eventually, oddly subdued. He traced the crescent on the shield with his forefinger. “I do not deserve--”

He moved like he was about to try and hand it back, and one of her hands shot forward to stop him. He froze as soon as her skin touched his. “Yes, you do. You deserve good things, Casavir. In all the months we’ve known each other, you’ve never asked me for anything.” Sure that he wasn’t going to try and give her gift back, Etain loosened her grip on his hand, though she didn’t pull away completely. “When’s the last time you let yourself want somethin’?”

“What I want…” His hand unfurled under hers, the rough pads of his fingers brushing light as spring rain over her palm before coming to rest at the inside of her wrist, where her pulse raced at a hummingbird pace. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, a small catch in his normally smooth, deep voice. “What I want is irrelevant.”

“Not to me.”

He met her eyes again, and he looked at her in a way no one ever had before. The normally wintery blue of his eyes turned as warm and intense as a summer storm, and made her feel the same way, powerful and wild.

The smile Casavir had been holding back finally settled on his lips, small but real. “Etain…”

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway. “Knight-Captain.”

Etain jumped back, her face burning as she realized how far she’d leaned toward him. She turned toward the door, relaxing a little to find it was only Kana. As far as she knew, her right-hand woman wasn’t much for gossip, so there was a small chance that they might be spared from the rumor mill for at least a little longer.

“I apologize for interrupting.” Kana seemed to mean it, though if she had any opinion beyond that she kept it close to the chest. “A group arrived at the gates, and the leader is requesting an audience. He says he knows you.”

“Of course he does,” she muttered sourly, then louder she added, “Thank you, Kana. I’ll be right there.” She saluted and left without another word, and Etain turned back to Casavir and his poorly concealed amusement. “I guess duty calls.”

“It always does,” he said, a hint of either sadness or disappointment behind his voice. He rose to stand, his movements stiff from the unhold hours he probably spent in that chair before she disturbed him. But when he bowed and offered her a hand, the motion was as graceful as ever. “May I accompany you?”

“Are you sure?” Despite the uncertainty in her voice, she still took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. “You were in the middle of somethin’ when I came in.”

Casavir tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “It can wait.”

Arm in arm, they left the room to go see what trouble had come to find them this time.

#etain torren #casavir #etain/casavir #neverwinter nights 2 #nwn2 #these two were the og for me. the first ship I ever wrote fic for like 15 years ago #all my love of stoic men and mutual pining and slow burns stems from them #though I was too shy to ever share any of it then #this is the first nwn piece I’ve ever written that has been seen by anyone but me!#better late than never :D

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lueurnotes · 4 years ago

Text

Kissing Din

based on this ask

Din Djarin/Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: blood mention, canon-typical violence, sexual situations, nudity

a/n: been a minute since I posted!! hope everyone is doing well <3

In Hyperspace.

You were sleepily rocking Grogu against your chest in the co-pilot seat. The little one was already fast asleep, a small snore coming from the bundle of cloth. The cabin was dimmed, with the small blinking control lights glittering through your sleepy haze. Hyperspace washed over you in blue-white streaks of light that kept you from falling asleep. Despite the rest that pulled at you, there wasn’t anywhere else in the Maker-forsaken galaxy that you’d rather be. Safe next to your partner with his son fast asleep on your lap.

It’s been an incredible journey together. Only a few short months yet so much has happened. Fixing up the Crest when you were all stranded on an icy, krykna-infested planet. Patching up Din whenever he returned, staggering into the hull. Giggling with the kid in your lap as he pushed your tools around. The memories you shared with this clan were few but your heart ached like it was forever.

A rustling sound coming from the pilot’s chair got your attention. Hm?

“Close your eyes,” Din hushed.

You obliged, more than happy to shut your sleepy eyes. Frequent hyperspace travel never did get easier for you.

The sound of his helmet hitting the metal floor of the cockpit nearly caused them to snap back open.

“Din what are you—”

A bare hand traced your face and you tried to fight the shudder that wracked your body. The warmest hands cradled your face upwards, a thumb brushing across your parted lips. The mere thought that Din was bare-faced inches from you... Your mind kicked into hyperdrive.

“Please,” the hushed whisper fell from his mouth, stilted breath ghosting right over your panting lips. The voice you seldom heard unmodulated was steeped with longing. One word spilled into a sentence.

“I want to kiss you.”

Your face broke into the sweetest grin he had ever seen. Really seen.

“Like you even have to ask,” you shifted your body upwards, heart racing as your lips finally met.

On Tatooine.

The blaring wind outside rocked the Razor Crest in it’s docked spot. Some dusty backwater place you could absolutely care less about. You spat out some lingering dust into the sink.

The little one was dropped off at Peli’s, which meant whoever this bounty was they were high-risk for Din.

Not a lot of people made that list.

Also meant that maybe you shouldn’t be blasting music throughout the ship, but kriff you were bored. It’s been a couple days at this point and you were told to “lay low”. Din didn’t say anything about music though. Plus, the Razor Crest was a well-fortified gal. Sure, a couple of bits flew off here and there and the hyperdrive could use some work, but whatever was in the armory could ward off any sane being in the galaxy.

The muffled sound of your playlist could be heard through the refresher door, jumping to full clarity as you exited. You broke into a grin, hips swaying as you sang the words loud. I wonder if Tin Can ever sings? You burst out laughing at the thought of the sound of scratchy-modulated humming. The man hardly talks as it is. I’d bet the Maker that he has a worse voice than me.

“Something funny?”

Crap.

You yelped, in a certainly dignified manner, you hope, “Mando! Glad to see you back home.”

Home?! Oh my stars, I’m done for.

The slightest tilt of his helmet let you know that he definitely heard you. He continued, “If you’re done using the comms, can you let Karga know we’re on our way?”

“Or we could just, you know, not do that,” a voice strained.

You finally focused on the bounty that Mando dragged back, a young twi’lek man with deep, blue skin. He wore a similarly draped sand-colored cloth you saw the locals wore. Arm wrappings covered to his wrist where there was no dirt under his fingernails. Your eyes wandered to his shoes, a type of thicker sandal with cording to attach… Yep, definitely not from here.

You smiled back at Mando, “Gotcha, Captain!”

“Wait!” The twi’lek croaked out, “Please, you can’t let him take me!”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, chancing a look at Mando’s visor as if to say can you believe this dude?

“Fine, I’ll bite.” You leaned on one hip, “Why should my partner and I not take in a bounty that we have been searching for I don’t know … ” you counted your fingers, “six days? Explain.”

And here come the waterworks.

He wailed, still on his knees next to Mando as he groveled, “It’s a false bounty! I was framed and I didn’t know what to do but run,” he looked at the carbonite cases, eyes growing larger when he saw their blank gazes frozen wide, “I swear to the Maker you’ve got it wrong!”

You bent down to his level, hushing him as you gently rested your hand on his cheek, “Are you implying that my partner is wrong? That he is being dishonest with me?”

Your wide eyes fell on Mando who stood unmoving. You turned back to the bounty before you could notice his hand clenching into a fist as you touched the other man.

The twi’lek silently nodded, tears slipping over his hairless face.

“Well you’ll be sure to know that I loathe liars,” you nodded solemnly, “Especially if it’s to my face.”

He opened his mouth to say something, sharply gasping as a blue ring of light exited your blaster. He slumped over, mouth still gaping open.

You looked back up at Din, catching him as he adjusted his pants. Smirking, you stepped over the bounty until you were standing right in front of Din, feeling the heat of his body past the beskar. Extending your arms up, you rested your hands on his pauldrons, hand tracing the Mudhorn signet. Gingerly, you placed your palms up just under Din’s ice-cold helmet, eyes questioning. He gave a simple nod, bringing his gloved hands to wrap around yours.

“I missed you,” you tilted the beskar upwards just the slightest amount, exposing a sliver of skin that was roughened with stubble. You tiptoed upwards and placed a short peck on him.

“It’s good to be home,” he gruffed out.

Keldabe

The overpowering scent of blood filled your mouth and nostrils. Tears tracked down your face as you let out a groan, spitting to the left of the man you just knocked out. You rolled over to lie back on the gritty pavement of the alleyway, uncaring of the unconscious man next to you. Somewhere down the dim alley, you could hear the distinct clang of metal against metal as Din fought the other bounty. The sound of a single blaster shot followed by a muffled yelp was the end of that.

Never bring a vibroblade to a blaster fight.

Your head pounded as you fought the urge to laugh out loud. You were lying next to a man that was set on killing you. You were pretty sure Din just shot the other one in the leg. And on top of that you were probably one wrong head turn from unconsciousness.

Din’s shadow suddenly looming over you snapped the cord and you burst in giggles.

“Are you okay?” he asked, immediately bending down to run his hands over any area that got impacted.

“You should have seen the other guy,” you winced as he grazed over your ribs.

“Looking at him right now,” he deadpanned, “Good work. But I’d prefer if my partner would ask for help if they need it.”

He pulled you up, half resting in his lap as your legs splayed out in front of you. Instantly, you curled towards the cold beskar, seeking the warmth past it.

“Hey Mando?”

“Yes?” He said lowly.

“M’head hurts,” you slurred, “Kiss me better.”

You couldn’t see it, but he smiled under his helmet. Even with the absolute shit knocked out of you, you still wanted his attention. Kriffing adorable.

He obliged, head tilting down so he could rest his helmet against your forehead. His eyes closed underneath, savoring the moment.

“Ah,” you sighed, “Much better.”

“Are you using me as an ice pack?”

“Maybe,” you whispered.

He let out a breathy chuckle before drawing away, “Come on, let’s get back to the ship so we can take a nap.”

A kiss on the thigh

Several months ago when you first started co-piloting for Din, you never would have thought that the Razor Crest could be anything but damn near freezing.

This heat was something else. Panting breaths exhaling hot air. The blazing touch that seared across your thighs as Din hovered over you. Even your skin was starting to dampen in the cramped cot.

“Cyar’ika,” he groaned, “Look at you.”

You opened your eyes, glancing down at yourself pressed so deliciously against Din. He was right there. Biting your lip, you tried to grind against him, only for Din to pinch at your thighs in warning. He continued his teasing, rubbing tenderly at your heated skin.

Your back arched under his ministrations. Din was taking his time during the reprieve of a lengthy hyperspace pass, massaging enticingly at your thighs, touching everywhere but where you needed him most.

Twelve hours.

You moaned, “Kriff, stop teasing, Din.” You writhed under his hold, your thighs pinned down by just his hands. How does he feel so good without doing anything?

“No, I don’t think I’m going to stop.”

You gasped as he replaced his hands with his mouth, bending down to suck harshly at the inside of your thigh. Din licked at the sensitive spot, satisfied as he looked up at your panting face.

“You look fucking pretty like this.”

A kiss on the hand

"Glove,” you commanded, “now.”

Din put a hand on his hip. “You don’t need good luck right now,” He jutted his head toward the distant tree trunk that was today’s target, “Just hit it.”

You rolled your eyes, making sure he saw. Like, really saw. You swore up and down that he lacked actual peripheral vision because it was always you that caught the little one getting into places he absolutely should not be. The armory being one of them. You shuddered, finger flicking the safety on as you remembered that very eventful day.

“Focus,” he intoned, “You’re in your head.”

You cursed to yourself, flicking the safety back off. Raising your arm smoothly, your eyes followed the barrel of your blaster.

Tree, damn it. Let me hit you.

Your eyes shut for a split second as you squeezed the trigger. A slight burst of energy shifted your hand half an inch. No sound of impact.

You looked at the tree in dismay.

The stump was definitely still there, not like it could dodge blaster bolts. Even if it could move, it wouldn’t have to avoid anything. The patch of brush next to it though? Thoroughly burnt.

“And this is why I train close combat,” you patted at your vibroblade strapped to your thigh.

“This is why you need practice,” Din moved next to you as you holstered your blaster, “Here.” He held his bare hand out to you, glove clutched in his left.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. Gingerly, you grasped onto his hand with both of yours, thumbs tracing across his bruised knuckles. Din gave the slightest tilt in acknowledgement. You brought his warm hand right to your face, breaking out into a smile.

“I’m gonna get it for sure this time,” you said before placing a small kiss on his hand, “Now put that glove back on and watch me hit this damn target.”

Din chuckled as he backpedaled a few steps, looking on as you drew your blaster, aiming perfectly at the tree.

Breathe. You got this. It’s a completely immobile target. You thought to yourself.

You squeezed the trigger and with a loud crack, the stump had a glaring split right down the middle where your bolt hit true.

“Stars, yes!” You shouted in glee. Deftly turning the safety back on, you holstered the blaster and ran to Din, his arms already opening to wrap around you.

“Knew you could do it,” he said, pulling you in lightly so the beskar wouldn’t bite into your skin.

“Does this mean I can try out the rest of your armory?”

“No.”

#hi it's been a while lol #lueur writes #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #Pedro Pascal #din djarin fanfiction #also this is out of order bc I'm fun like that

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nautiscarader · 3 years ago

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Marichat 1

Smutember day 1 - Strip Poker, Marichat (ML)

(Ao3)

With apologies to anyone, who knows how to play poker.

Also I hope you will apprciate all the ice puns. You will soon see why.

What killed the dinosaurs? THE ICE AGE

===========

At this point, Marinette thought she'd be used to having a boyfriend with a slightly unusual method of dropping by. She heard the scratching on the trapdoor, and when she opened it, she was welcomed with an upside-down face of her feline companion.

With his trademark agility he indeed dropped in, landing on all fours and jumped back up, his tail coiling around her waist to bring her into his arms.

- Quite a bold move, kitty. - she smiled. - Well, you know me. - How did you know I'd be free tonight, though? College is forcing me to stay a lot in the libraries, even in the evening... I was about to hit the hay... - she pointed to her rather skimpy clothing. - I guess it was a bluff.

His hands slid up and down her thighs, while her legs gently parted his. It was true, her university did embark a toll on her private life, giving the two way less time to spend together.

And as the two were about to kiss, a word from him gave Marinette an idea.

- How about strip poker? - Marinette asked, raising her eyebrow - If you think your bluff game is so strong... - Sounds like a slightly more complicated way of getting you out your clothes, princess... - Chat replied cockily.

Marinette gave him a gentle kiss and jumped onto her back. She straightened the sheets, took the deck, shuffled it, and shot Chat with a smile.

- I assume an alley cat like you-you know how to play poker? - she added with just a tinge of hesitation. - Ah, of course - he replied with a similar moment of worry - Were you thinking of some other, simpler game? - Well...

Marinette began, and she lost control of her deck, temporarily scattering cards all over her laps.

- There-there is this card mini game in this, uh, app game called Mister... - Penguino! - Chat finished, and coughed, sounding a bit too excited - I heard, I mean. We can, uh play that simplified version, just to humour you. - Yeah, I mean, even pros need a break once in a while.

The two shared a long, silent connection, as Marinette shuffled and dealt the cards. She hid her face behind them, wishing she could have seen the tooltips that automatically suggested the desired highest combo...

She sneaked a quick look at Chat, but she was used to him hiding his thoughts, and it seemed for once he might have an upper hand, or claw...

She repositioned a few cards, and with a firm move, she put two of them down, sending her opponent a faint smile.

- I've got... one pair of snowshoes! - and she proudly uncovered two queens. Chat smiled back. - Guess I've invited you to ice-skate ring for a date.

And revealed four cards from his hand.

- Two pairs.

Marinette's smile faded, and knowing he wouldn't look away, she undid her ponytails, tossing away her hair ties.

- Come on, that barely counts as clothing. - Chat protested. - Be glad I undid them both at the time. - she smiled and took more cards.

This time, the pause did not last as long, as Marinette didn't even wait for Chat.

- Four of a kindle! - Eh, pass.

And with that, Marinette watched as he ditched his gloves. After a few ties, her winning streak returned, as she got a regular Strait, followed by Icy Strait, much to Chat's surprise.

- In hindsight, I should have thought this through, wearing one-piece outfit isn't the best strategy...

Marinette just nodded, watching as he lost his shoes and Chat Noir-themed socks. And she had to restrain herself from giggling when she looked at her next hand.

- Full Igloo! in your face!

Chat Noir swallowed, and knowing that she will watch every move of his slowly pulled down the golden bell, revealing his lean, but muscular chest, and, as he let his costume fell to the floor, Marinette's eyes fixated on his...

- Boxers!? - Marinette protested - What? - they were bundled with socks - And he pointed to his pawprints his boxers were dotted with.

Marinette grumbled. It seemed her luck has ran out temporarily. Two Snowmen and one Ho-Ho later, she found herself without her jacket and pants. She suddenly found herself wished she had worn socks...

But then, with a triumphant smile, she laid down five cards down.

- Slushy Strait.

She spoke, looking at four cards Chat put down that were nowhere close to topping hers.

And with a faint smile, Chat stood up and reached to his boxers, where a faint trace of his erection was visible. Marinette bit her lip, and watched as the dark material slides down, until his biology performed an admirable jolt, when his cock sprung to life once he was freed.

- Well, looks like you've won. - Chat sat down, and was about to shuffle the cards back when Marinette stopped him. - Not yet. You still have your mask.

Adrien swallowed loudly, as Marinette's smile widened to an almost Cheshire-cat length.

- My... My princess... - Deal the cards. - she cut him off quickly, trying not to have her mind clouded with the image of his cock.

But the smile faded away equally quickly. Next turn forced Marinette to take her top, and in two more, she found herself whether to choose her bra, or her panties, which have revealed her readiness already. And knowing that, she opted for them, hoping the sight of her sex would throw her opponent off.

Chat smiled, watching as Marinette lifted her legs into the air and undid her panties, pretending to hide her puffy lips from him, when in reality she made sure that her night lamp would show a few droplets of her arousal.

The two stared at each other and reached for more cards. This time, her face remained frozen and motionless, and she put down five cards.

Chat Noir, with equally stoic demeanour, did the same.

At the same time, they both revealed them.

- Icy Slushy Strait! - Marinette howled - Finally, I will know the identity of my boyfriend... - Five of a kindle. - What?!

Marinette watched, as Chat flipped each card, one ace at a time, finishing with a comedic depiction of a medieval jester.

She looked up, unable to believe his luck. Instead of any explanation, she just saw a glimmer in his green eyes.

She reached her hand behind her back and undid her bra, rendering her completely naked, while Chat licked his lips at the sight of her breasts.

- Can we stop pretending? - Yeah, I guess.

Marinette grumbled, and she welcomed the feeling of his lips on hers, as he jumped onto her, pinning her naked body to her comfy bed.

But he wasn't interested in immobilising her, as Chat was clearly drawn to her sex, now positively glistening with her juices, and a single lick of his made Marinette howl, as her legs flailed around his head.

Chat drove her insane for a couple of minutes, knowing she wasn't even trying to hide her oncoming climax. The feeling of his fingers, instead of claws brought a much needed comfort and tenderness to his foreplay, especially when he traced her clit.

And just as with the final hand, this one brought Marinette to her loss. She buried her face in a pillow, while she soaked her lover with her arousal, thrashing around him, much yo his pleasure.

Adrien thought she would remain like that for long, but her shaking arms were soon around his neck, as she brought him onto her.

She let out a moan under his pleasant, heavenly weight, but when his aggressive behaviour drove him between her legs, she had to stop him.

- Ah, ah, ah - Marinette spoke, as Chat looked at her, stumped - Forgot about something?

She reached to her nightstand, and to his surprise, she produced a condom in a black package depicting a handsome man with green eyes and cat ears, clearly from the same set as his underwear.

- I feel I should file for copyright claim. - They make ones with Ladybug as well... - Marinette added with a mixture of annoyance and odd bit of pride in her voice - I know we were stripping down, but this will suit you.

She let out a giggle when his cock twitched in her hand, as she coiled her fingers around him and slid the condom on, feeing each of his vein under her fingertips.

- Sorry kitty, but I'm not ready for your kittens yet... maybe next month...

She joked and gasped, as Chat positioned himself between her legs, feeling his tip brushed her wet opening.

Spoiled by his delicate treatment before, it was time for Chat to utilise his pent-up energy, as he slid inside her with ease, earning another languorous moan from his lover, as she dug her nails into his back.

With each thrust, she spilled his name into his ear, feeling his cock spreading and tearing her in half, as buried himself deeper and deeper.

- Chat... Chat... Chaton!

She knew he was on the edge of his climax too, brought by their shared taunting, and though she preferred long, slow love-making, she would gladly welcome another "little death", as it was called in her language.

She listened to his guttural, low groans, and when his back arched, so did hers, almost as if to give him chance to reach her depths, while he filled his condom with seed, and her ears with her name.

The two joined bodies pulsed and shuddered, as Chat delivered his potency into the rubber, her body milking him for more in a futile attempts at executive the biological imperative Marinette protected herself from.

Their groans and moans subsided, as their lips met, and with that, the gentle creaking of the bed stopped as well, replaced by smacking sound of their hungry mouths.

- Well, looks like I won, Chat huffed, lifting himself from his position, marvelling at the sight of Marinette's slightly sweaty body and her ruffled hair. - Are-are you sure?

Marinette's lips curled in a cocky smile and she showed him her hand, holding four aces and a joker she must have picked up when they were basking in their shared afterglow.

- But... - But what kitty? Look, my sleeves are empty - she raised her arms to mock him further - My princess, that's cheating! - All's fair in love and war - she spoke without missing a beat - Your mask, Chaton

Cold sweat rushed down his spine, strengthened by her piercing gaze and a sly smile. For quite a while neither of them spoke, each fixated at their partner's face.

- Although, I can accept this as alternative.

Marinette spoke and grabbed his cock, sliding underneath it, until it hovered over her face. Her fingers pinched the tip of the condom, filed with his seed and she stuck her tongue out, waiting for her reward as she slid it from his length.

Inch by inch, as Marinette disrobed her lover, globs of his potent spunk landed in her mouth, guided by her skilled tongue that traced his undercock, causing him to shudder and twitch.

And even after the condom was off, Marinette squeezed it to ensure that none of his hard and tasty work would be wasted, letting out loud and unabashed sounds of satisfaction as she tasted her salty treat, making sure to not look away from Chat's enamoured face.

Despite being disrobed, Marinette won, proudly wearing a smile and his cum on her face.

- That... that was quite a move, Marinette. - Chat admitted and bowed gently, sneaking a kiss to her ankle, as he helped her collect her clothes. - Always pleasure to win with someone, who knows how to lose. - she giggled in return. - Next time you will be the one begging for mercy. - Oh, I sure hope so.

Marinette raised her arms and put her wrists next to the headboard of her bed, as if she was tied. She watched, as his cock twitched again through his latex clothes.

- Oh, and by the way... I'd still win. - he said as he climber up - I still had my tail.

He closed the door, and only after a while Marinette let out a gasp when she realised how his tail could have been attached to his naked body once he got out of his suit...

#marichat #smutember #day 1 #miraculust #lemon #mlnsfw #nautiscaraderfics #smutember 2021 #smutember2021

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