#That gives me much more confidence to keep on applying to jobs [as soon as i can]

[thewulf]

Unexpectedly || Aaron Hotchner

Request: The reader is a member of BAU, but nobody knows her dark past. She's running from her abusive ex. Once he hurt her so bad (fractured skull, several severe injuries) he left her to die in their apartment. Nowadays she keeps that past hidden, as good as she can... See rest here

A/N: This was SO much fun to write. Took me a little bit to get used to the writing style but once I did it flowed so well. There is A LOT going on in this one (make sure to read the full request!). Timeline is a little wonky – Season 3ish but we’re pretending George Foyet already happened, and Haley has already passed. I also just made reader 28 years old – you can pick whatever age you want!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 10.1k + (Probably should've made this 2 parts)

TW: Abuse. Both physical and mental. General Criminal Minds TW – talk of blood/gore/death/stabbing etc. AGE GAP between reader and Hotchner, reader is implied to be younger 25-35.

Life was good, great even. For the first time in a long time, you felt free, like yourself again. You weren’t sure how, but you managed to convince the BAU that you’d be a good communications liaison while JJ was out on maternity leave. Speaking in front of people never bothered you, it came naturally to you. So, when your manager mentioned an opening in the BAU for your exact job all the way across the country it piqued your curiosity. It piqued your curiosity so much that you ended up applying, interviewing, and accepting the job within a few days. On Monday you were an FBI agent stationed in Los Angeles and by Friday you were meeting your new team.

Hoping to make a good impression on your first day you brought in bagels and coffee just praying they would like you. You met your ridiculously good-looking boss that Thursday night after his team got back from a difficult case, his words not yours, and he showed you around the office. He had given the team the weekend off to relax. Something that wasn’t terribly common around there you had picked up.

Laying out the bagels on conference room table you were so in your own head you hadn’t heard the door open and close

“Well, what do we have here?” A smooth male voice came from behind you breaking you right out of your thoughts.

Spinning around on your heel you took the man in. Tall, handsome and had a devilishly cute grin across his face. Was everyone that worked here hot as hell? If that were the case you might be in trouble, “Oh hi! I’m Y/N. Agent Y/L/N. I’m covering for JJ while she’s out.” You flashed him a nervous smile hoping he wouldn’t be able to read you as easily as you thought it was. See, you never worked with profilers before this. Sure, you’ve worked at the FBI for years, but profilers made you nervous. Profilers seemed to know more about you than even you knew about yourself. And profilers at the BAU? This team was the best of the best. Better than any team you’ve worked on, that’s for sure.

He shot you a ]smile that would’ve taken you out in a previous life, “SSA Derek Morgan. Are these for the team?”

You nodded feeling his eyes surveying you, profiling you, “They are, if you want them.”

Nodding his head slowly he took a step forward to grab one, “Are you trying to butter us up?”

Giving him a small laugh, you continued, “Depends, is it working?”

His smirk grew into a full-on smile now, “Yeah, you’ll fit right in newbie.” He pulled out a chair for you to pop a squat next to him, “They’ll be in soon. Just slow on Friday mornings.” He commented after seeing you look out for anybody behind him.

Sitting down next to him you were sure you looked like a nervous mess. You were confident in your role. You knew you were damn good at your job too. But who wouldn’t be nervous walking into a room of profilers for the first time? Especially ones that could read you like an open book so quickly, “Thanks,” You gave him a quick nod, “You must be good at your job.”

Derek set his coffee mug on the table turning towards you, “We are. But that’s beside the point. You’ll learn quickly.”

Before Derek could continue the door opened again revealing your stern looking boss who gave the two of you a nod before taking a seat at the table.

“Bagel?” You offered.

With a quick look up and a quick head shake he continued scanning whatever he was looking at. Looking over at Derek curiously he just gave you a tight-lipped smile shaking his head. Deciding to just drop it you waited patiently for whatever the hell was about to happen. Hotchner briefly went over your responsibilities when he walked you through the BAU, so you were flying blind.

Slowly the team started trickling in making sure to give quick intros and thank you’s for the bagels. You sat back and observed what was going on. A quick conversation around the weekend turned to a squeal as on overly pink dressed woman came bounding into the room with a very big smile.

“You must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She clapped her hands grabbing a bagel for herself, “Don’t worry honey I only read your file. I didn’t go digging. I’m Penelope but this fine human specimen calls me Penny.” She gave Derek’s arm a squeeze.

“Or baby girl.” Derek through her a wink. A few others walked in quickly introducing themselves to you. Each team member more kind than the next welcoming you with open arms.

At Penny’s comment you felt you blood run cold. Of course, the bureau would have somebody like her on the team. It was stupid to think that this team wouldn’t have one. They needed her. Sitting in a room full of profilers who were watching the exchange was a bit unnerving too. Every expression on your face being hyper analyzed to profile you.

Raising your eyebrows in curiosity you could only ask, “Digging? What for?”

She giggled taking a seat next to Derek on his other side, “Anything dear. I can find any secret if it’s been on the internet. Maybe some that haven’t been.” She laughed.

Your heart started racing knowing she could figure you out completely. It was easy enough to get your file cleared of your past life once you changed your last name, but this? This was a problem. You couldn’t bury police and court records. Those would live for forever.

Smiling and trying to play it off as cool as possible you nodded your head along, “Noted. That’s a nifty little skill you have their Penny.” Her face lit up as she agreed with you. It wasn’t often she got complimented for her skills, so she took it when it was given.

Cool. You had to play this cool. You couldn’t let your emotions expose you now. This scenario ran through your head a hundred times before you came. You knew they were going to ask about your past. It’s not like anything was in your file other than you being from the middle of nowhere Colorado. You made sure to have it scrubbed before you came.

Hotchner cleared his throat letting the team know he was ready to go, and that work was what was important, not you at the moment. Silently thanking the man, you turned your full attention to him.

“Now that you’ve met Penny and the team has met Y/N, let’s get started.” The man was all business as he nodded to Penny. She passed out the case file to each team member, including you. Visibly fighting back your reaction to the pictures in the file it dawned on you how fucked this job was going to be. Shit, what in the hell have you gotten your sorry self into?

“Dayton, Ohio” She spoke after taking a seat again, “Four young women have gone missing and found dead near Eastwood Lake just north of the city. A fifth just went missing last night.”

“They went missing from local bars?” Spencer asked as he set the file down.

Penny nodded, “Each one from a different spot but all within a 5-mile radius downtown.”

“Ligature marks around the arms indicate being chained up or bound for some extended period of time.” Spencer rattled off studying the pictures. Taking a shallow breath, you looked back at the pictures of the young women. You’ve seen some fucked up things working with the FBI, but this was next level. These women were clearly tortured before whoever finally decided to kill them. The bruises, cuts, blood, and broken bones were not a sight many people could handle. A sight that reminded you of your past.

Acutely aware you were around profilers you lifted your head up to listen to the conversation that was unfolding around the table. You watched how they bounced ideas off of each other so effortlessly. How each idea was taken into consideration. They worked so flawlessly as a team. It was something you had yet to come across in your time with the Bureau.

“Lacerations to the left cheek on all of them.” You vaguely heard from Rossi as they all continued to converse. You watched in awe as the team did their thing. No wonder they were so well regarded. This felt like magic. They knew each other so well.

“No racial preference either. Seems to be targeting age. 25- to 35-year-old women in the Dayton and Beavercreek area.” Spenser’s voice chimed in again.

“Cause of death, asphyxiation to all the women. Possibly getting off to the torture?” Emily spoke up.

“What time did they go missing?” You asked skimming the file unaware that they all stopped their chatter keying in on you, “What? Did I do something wrong?” You asked noticing the silence.

Derek shook his head with a little smirk, “Hardly.”

You looked back down not enjoying the attention, “Okay.” You were sure your face was beet red.

“Okay.” Hotchner brought his team back on track, “Jet’s leaving in 20. Y/L/N stay back for a moment.”

“Sure.” You nodded waiting for the team to disperse. Swiveling your chair back and forth you felt overly nervous to talk to the man. You’d heard the rumors about him before you got the BAU, and they seemed scarily accurate for the man. A hard ass that expected a lot from his team but would have your back in an instant, no questions asked. But what everyone failed to tell you was just how handsome the damn man was on top of it all. He was striking to you, exactly your type with his chocolate eyes and dark hair. It made talking to him a very nerve-wracking experience.

Just don’t think about how attractive you find him, and you’d be just fine. Easy, right?

When Penny walked out you turned to him, “What was that about?” You asked your boss as he took a seat next to you.

He gave you a look you couldn’t figure out before continuing the conversation, “It’s not often that somebody comes in and contributes right away. Much less a communications liaison.” You knew he wasn’t criticizing you for not being a profiler as everybody had their roles, but it felt like you’d overstepped.

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

He shook his head interrupting you, “No, we need every idea out there. That’s the difference between brining somebody home to their family or not.”

You scanned his face quickly, hoping you weren’t caught studying him. But he was the infamous Aaron Hotchner of course he would notice. You needed to get your stupid brain in check, but damn did he have a nice jawline. A nice everything really.

Giving him a small smile, you nodded, “Gotcha.” You wanted to call him Hotch, but it felt too soon, like you were trying to be a part of a team that you weren’t apart of just yet.

He gave you a curt nod before standing, “Grab your go bag and follow me.”

Following him out to the jet you couldn’t take your eyes off him. His suit tailored to his body in all the right places was sending you into overdrive. You should not be having these unsavory thoughts of your fucking boss that you’ve known for less than an hour of your life. But you had to give credit where credit was due. He was fine. Far too fine to be your boss. You were just thankful that he didn’t have eyes on the back of his head.

You quietly followed him onto the plane spotting Derek and Emily sitting on the couch. You opted to sit across from them running fast from your boss. He was fine as hell but boy was he intimidating.

“Y/N.” Emily nodded, “Welcome to the team glad to have you. Even if you’re like… twelve years old.” She sat back smirking, proud of herself for that one. You weren’t giving much up and this was her solution to that. Get under your skin. She knew nobody could resist.

Derek snorted quickly placing a hand over his mouth, “Hey! I’m 28.” You shot a glare at Derek already feeling far too comfortable around the man. But that was just Derek, open and welcoming. An easy-going great man.

“I told you she was over 25!” Emily pointed at Derek.

He shrugged, “I was off a little.”

You stared at them with a wide-open mouth, “I’m sitting right here.”

Derek turned towards you, flashing you that brilliant smile, “That’s a good thing Y/N. Younger than you look.” He threw you a wink.

“Shut up pig.” You crossed your arms over your chest blankly staring at him.

Emily laughed happily at that. She loved when women shot Derek down. So often they were throwing themselves at him that it just caught her so off guard.

“I’m going to close my eyes over there.” You nodded to the back of the plane where the curtains were drawn. Making it a bit darker than the rest of the plane.

Derek looked at you with a slight glare, not a fan that you were bowing out so quick. He wanted to get to know the new girl, “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a headache.” You gave him a small smile, “Happens sometimes.” You tried to give him as little information as possible. As soon as you opened the can of worms you knew you were toast. You were walking a literal tightrope right now. One little slip up and the entire thing would come crashing down on you.

“Alright, new girl. Go rest up. We aren’t done talking about you though.” He raised a brow as if to challenge you. Emily nodded glancing up from the magazine she decided to pull out a few moments prior.

Nervously laughing you stood, thankful that these guys didn’t really know you just yet or they’d see right on through you like the profilers they were, “I’m not that interesting Derek.”

“Au contraire.” Rossi spoke up setting his book down. Spinning in the seat from not that far away. This caught Hotch’s attention. He looked up from the files he was studying to see what the commotion was about. Damn, they really were always listening, weren’t they? “The less you say the more we want to know.” Rossi finished spinning back towards Hotch. You watched as they seemed to have a silent conversation with their eyes.

You felt your heart rate pick up speed, why didn’t you think of a better cover? “I promise you both, I’m kind of boring.” Was all you could think to say. Just digging yourself into a deeper hole.

“So, you think.” He picked his book back up not sparing a glance back in your direction.

You found a seat that butted up against the airplane wall that let you close your eyes in peace. It felt like a jackhammer was pounding into your head. The stress of the situation raised your blood pressure which meant your head was more susceptible to the piercing migraines that were new to your life. What you didn’t see was your boss watching your every move in quick glances, not going unnoticed by his confidant Rossi.

Ever since the attack you got headaches and migraines all the time. When you were stressed, or your blood pressure started to increase the migraines hit almost instantly. The doctors told you it was due to the increased blood flow to that area of the brain that will likely never heal completely. This was something you just had to live with.

The migraines you could deal with. What really sucked was the bouts of dizziness and nausea that often followed a severe migraine. It got so bad on a case once you ended up fainting from the dizziness that clouded your eyesight. You just had to keep your stress under control. That’d be easy to do at the BAU right? Sure.

You opened your eyes when the plane started to descend into Dayton. A bit shocked you actually fell asleep. Often you struggled falling asleep on a plane or in a car. Instead of joining in on the conversation between teammates you opted to listen in, instead of contributing. The migraine was faint but still there. Maybe this wasn’t the best switch for you. Maybe coming to the BAU was a mistake.

The team exited the plane quickly getting into the escort vehicles taking them to the police station. Enamored with the entire process you zoned out as the team did their normal routine. This was all so novel to you. The jet, the escort, the prestige of it all. You came from a low budget office in the high budget city of LA. This was nothing short of fascinating.

The day you had to ran started just like any other one. Your boyfriend of a few years was off to work early in the morning. He was a detective at the same police department you worked at working as the communications lead for the precinct. You went to work, did your thing before coming back to the shared house. When you walked through the front door it was eerily quiet. Seeing your boyfriend’s truck in the driveway you knew he was home though.

“Honey?” You called out while setting your bag down careful not to make too much noise as you knew he didn’t like it.

“Kitchen.” Your heart dropped out of your chest hearing the tone of voice that came out of his mouth. It was his ‘you fucked up you’re going to pay voice’. Looking down at your hands you noticed that the trembling had already started.

You felt so weak. You couldn’t stand up for yourself, defend yourself. You tried to get away, but he found you. You tried to get the people you worked with to understand what you were going through but they didn’t see it, they didn’t get it. They didn’t want to see it. They wanted to protect him. Your very own coworkers, literal police officers, wouldn’t even help you. You were stuck with him. You knew you had to get out you just couldn’t figure it out. He was going to kill you if you didn’t.

Walking slowly, you peeked your head through the entryway spotting your boyfriend sitting down at the table. You knew you were in trouble for something you just hadn’t a clue what set him off this time, “How was work?” You spoke up knowing this was happening one way or another.

He stood walking over to the sink, staring right at you, “It was great until I got home and found a fucking dish in the sink.” He nearly growled, irritation coursing through his veins.

Fuck, did you really forget to put your glass away? What a dumbass mistake, “I’m sorry I…”

“What did I fucking tell you about the dishes Y/N? Or are you just too fucking stupid to understand what I’m saying?” Raising his voice he took a step towards you, toying with you. Your whole body was trembling now. He was so terribly scary when he wanted to be and right now, he wanted to scare the living daylights out of you.

“No. I’m sorry I just forgot.” You looked down knowing it wasn’t a good excuse. Nothing was a good excuse when he wanted to hurt you. You knew he loved it. The sick bastard that he was.

“You forgot?” He laughed. A deep belly laugh that sent a shiver rippling through your entity. Feeling your hair getting pulled from above you let out a small yelp as he forced you to look at him, “Like the dumb bitch you are.” You felt the pain before it registered in your head what had happened. He threw a punch to the side of your face dropping you to the ground almost instantly. Feeling blood trickle down your face you couldn’t bear looking up at him. That’d leave a nasty bruise.

He placed his boot on your abdomen pressing down a little too hard. “Pathetic. Can’t even stay standing? Hmm?” His boot connected with your rib cage. A nasty crack and the immediate searing pain started radiating immediately. A small whine emanated from your mouth as you tried to take a breath, but the pain almost felt too unbearable. He definitely cracked a few of your ribs.

“Going to remember to put your fucking dishes in the dishwasher next time?” He let out a low chuckle. You were in trouble. This was different. He normally stopped before it had gotten this bad. He knew he couldn’t hurt you to the point you couldn’t work so that usually meant your face, arms and legs were off limits. Yet, he went for it this time. He never dared to used such force that bones actually broke.

“Yeah.” You mumbled out finding it hard to even breathe at the moment. Not that he would take that as an excuse.

“What was that?” He grabbed you by the hair again pulling you to your feet. You were sure he took a chunk of hair out as he did so.

“Ow, fuck!” You cried feeling your vision start to blur from the force of the pull. The cuss word just slipped out, but you knew better than to use that ‘language’ in front of him as it wasn’t ‘lady-like’ at all.

A look crossed his face that you were sure you’d never seen before. One that looked like he wanted to kill you right then. To get rid of you, “That’s it. I’ve tried with you. You’re hopeless.”

He grabbed you by your shoulders grasping down hard making sure it would leave marks, “You are nothing Y/N. Absolutely nothing.”

“Then why won’t you leave me?” That might have been you’re biggest mistake to date with him. A slight twitch of his nostril made you realize just how fucked you were.

“Don’t you ever talk back to me.” Another punch but right to the nose sent you backwards into the wall. Black dots started dancing in your vision as you tried to stay upright. Blood started flowing down your face coating your shirt in the bright crimson.

“Then leave me.” You tasted the metallic blood that was pouring down your face. You were begging him now. It was now or never for you. He was either going to kill you or leave you. You couldn’t keep doing this.

Forcing you up against the wall with his hand around your neck he leaned in hard, making it hard to breath, whispering into your ear, “I’m never leaving you Y/N.” If you had any energy left tears might have rolled down your face but there was nothing left. You could hardly breathe from the kick to the ribs. He was restricting your airflow and you were starting to get faint, “You’re mine for forever, my dear.” He let his hand go from around your neck holding you up by the chest now. You sucked in a big breath only to be met with the excruciating pain radiating from your ribcage.

“Please.” You managed to look at him. Hoping to see any form of humanity behind his eyes. A small sob erupted when you realized how dark he had become.

Shaking his head he grabbed your upper arm, “No.” He squeezed forcing another short whine to escape your mouth, “Now, Y/N. You need to learn to not talk back to me. Do you understand me?”

You nodded your head trying to reserve talking for only when it was needed as it hurt, “I asked you a fucking question!” He yelled in your face continuing to clamp down on your arm. Your hand began to tingle from the lack of blood flow.

“Ye.. yes.” You mumbled out feeling yourself about to slip into unconsciousness.

“Good girl. Now, time for your punishment.”

Eyes widening a bit you couldn’t comprehend it. Wasn’t this the punishment? Before you could speak up you felt him pull you away from the wall. Completely at his mercy you didn’t even have the strength to stand anymore let alone try to argue with him. He was literally the only thing keeping you standing as you moved away from the wall.

He didn’t think it all the way through this time though. When he threw his last punch to your abdomen, he didn’t account for you not having any strength to stop yourself. So, when he punched you, you went flying backwards right into the corner of the kitchen island countertop. The back of your head connected with the stone instantly knocking you unconscious instantly.

Waking up in a puddle of your own drying blood was something you wouldn’t have wished on your worst enemy. The metallic stench of the drying liquid sent chills down your spine as you took in your surroundings. Blinking rapidly a few times you realized it was eerily quiet again as you regained consciousness. The house was dark. Too dark to see anything.

A shallow breath in brought in pain which caused you to wince opening up the raw head wound that had sealed itself shut. Rolling onto your stomach and holding yourself up with your palms you saw how bad it really was. Blood spattered the white cabinets while there was a literal pool of blood that came from your head. It was a miracle you were even alive.

It felt like every nerve ending in your body was on fire as you attempted to stand only to be met with jelly legs. A quite cry broke from your chest realizing just how bad this really was. He just left you for dead. He didn’t even call an ambulance. He was just gone.

He never took it that far in the past. He had an appearance to uphold at the police department and you showing up with any sort of visible bruises would shatter that illusion. It was usually just slaps across the face or shoves into furniture. Never had he actually made you bleed like this, on the brink of death.

The worst thing about all of this was that in the beginning of your relationship he was one of the best partners around. You loved him with your life. Then the stress and the cracks started to form. At first, he found other outlets like video games or going to the bar. Then it became you. The hitting only started a few months prior. But this, this was exceptional. This was a crime scene.

Thanking your lucky stars that you never took off your jacket, your phone was still in the pocket. With your very last ounce of strength, you dialed 911 before succumbing to the darkness again.

Instead of actually finding him, the cops said he ran away. That all they could do was put some feelers out. You used to think the world of these guys but then you realized he was their priority. They would protect their brother before you. You were just a woman. He was their brother.

After spending a week in the hospital due to fracturing your skull you were immediately transferred to another department about three hours away. That was all they offered, a measly transfer. With a head raging of migraines that never seemed to leave you decided you’d have to take matters into your own hands. Coming across a Bureau job in Los Angeles you jumped at the opportunity and was hired almost immediately. You opted to hide your past from your coworkers, changing your last name was the easiest way to do so Sure, the FBI knew about the incident but not your co-workers. The less it was brought up the less you had to think about it.

You were running from your past and you didn’t really give a damn. It made you realize just how fucked up the situation you were in really was. You weren’t anything to anybody at that police department. Just a woman who happened to be in a relationship to one of their police brothers.

Lucky for you, you loved your job at the Bureau. And you excelled at it quickly. Often picking up extra work for your coworkers. When the job at the BAU opened up you jumped as quick as you could. The BAU was coveted in the FBI. If you could make it there you could make it literally anywhere.

The case was tough on you. Just yesterday they found the fifth victim. It was only a matter of time until the sixth was taken. The killer was picking up speed at an alarming rate. Going from once a month down to every other day. You were doing a decent job keeping your stress down and your migraines somewhat at bay. But any of these women could be you on a given night. It hit you like a truck when the fifth woman was found in a park. She was wearing an outfit you would’ve worn to go out with friends. She was out living her life twelve hours prior and now she was just gone. How sick life was.

Time for the worst part of your job, telling the police and the public in a press conference. Even though it sucked it needed to get done. The more that young women knew that this was happening the more alert people would be. You gave the profile during the press conference that the team had come up with. White male, in his early 30’s, likely of shorter and heavier build with deeply rooted emotional trauma due to growing up without a mother or mother like figure. His mother probably left him when she was in her early 30’s thus the reason for the victim age range. So typical. How often you ran across cases like this. This guy was just a little sneakier. Not as dumb as your typical run of the mill criminal.

You sat in the conference room studying the white board with all the victims posted across with all the fine details of their short lives. The rest of the team stepped out for lunch, but you just weren’t hungry. Not after delivering that news to the Dayton Ohio area.  Opting to just lose yourself in your thoughts instead.

You weren’t given much time to lose yourself before you heard a chair scrape the ground next to you. Looking up you were surprised to see your boss sitting down next to you with a snack in hand.

“No lunch?”

“No, not hungry.” You gave him a half smile trying to knock yourself out of this mini funk. You thought you were prepared. You read all the case files. You talked to all the experts. But damn, when you were middle of doing it, it was like nothing you could’ve expected.

Feeling your personal phone buzz, you looked down while the two of you sat in comfortable silence. Opening your phone and clicking the little messages icon you frowned not recognizing the number that texted you. Your mouth immediately ran dry as adrenaline started pumping through your body. One text. One fucking text you never ever wanted to see.

‘I know where you are.’

Your heart rate sped right up which would lead to inevitable migraine. Fuck. There was a chance it wasn’t him but who else could it be? He loved to do this kind of shit to you back when you were together. Completely fucking with your mind.

“Everything okay?” You heard your boss faintly ask as you couldn’t rip your eyes away from your phone screen. Blinking rapidly, you had to remember where you were. You were working. You couldn’t worry about that right now. This was a later problem. Block it and move on. Besides, it was getting embarrassing how many fucking times the team had to ask if you were okay. You needed to knock it off and soon.

“Y/L/N.” You heard more sternly this time.

“Yes?” You locked the screen shoving it into your pocked. Out of sight out of mind. Right?

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head trying to play it off as cool as you possibly could, “Nothing Hotch.” You finally felt comfortable enough to call him that. I suppose when you hunt killers and study dead bodies you tend to bond faster than you would in any other job.

He gave you an exasperated look, “You do realize I profile people for a living.”

A sigh escaped your lips, “It’s nothing. They’re just so young.” You pointed your head towards the white board. You couldn’t let him know about your past. It was almost too fucking embarrassing to admit. You thought you were strong. Clearly not strong enough to leave him before he nearly killed you. And Aaron Hotchner just might be the strongest person you have ever met in your life.

In the brief time that you’d known him you’d learned all about his past from his coworkers. How he was stabbed, lost his ex-wife and was still here doing this damn thing as a single father. His strength was unparalleled to anything you had known. So, to admit your past to him was something you were far too scared to do. The worst thing would be to be seen as weak to Aaron Hotchner.

He nodded looking you over. Something he seemed to do far too often that made you feel things you really shouldn’t be feeling, “Is that all?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded refusing to look at him but instead at the victims. Hoping you were selling yourself well enough. He didn’t believe you. He was a profiler, a damn good one at that. He knew something was on that phone. Something you were refusing to tell him.

“It’s tough.” He admitted setting his cheese crackers down turning his body towards you, “This is not and will never be an easy job Agent Y/L/N. It’ll probably be some of the most gruesome work that you’ll be in the thick of. But let me tell you something. When you get to save one of those girls or any innocent victim it changes you. You know you saved them from something so horrific, something that no innocent human should go through. And that makes it all worth it. I can promise you that.”

A little shell shocked that he dropped that bomb on your lap you took a moment to collect your thoughts, “Thank you Hotch.” Looking up to him you continued, “Really, thank you. This is… brutal. I thought I knew what I was signing up for.”

“You can step away at any time. There wouldn’t be any judgment, but we really did hire you for a reason. I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think you could do it.”

Those damn butterflies erupted in your stomach as he looked you over to make sure the message really sank in, “I can do it. I just have to adjust.”

A small smile formed on his face. You had to assume that was a rare sight for the team as it caught you off guard. He looked so damn handsome with a smile on his face. Something you wanted to see far more than you already had in the few days you’d been on the case with the team.

He stood grabbing his crackers, “Good. If you need anything. Really. Anything. Please, don’t be afraid to ask. Alright?”

You nodded rapidly, “Got it Hotch. Thank you.”

“Sure. I need to go talk to the chief. Try and grab some food?”

“Yeah, sure.” You threw him a smile as he walked out of the room. God, you were fucked if this was how we was going to treat you. Already so attracted to just his physical appearance and then he pulls that out? What’s not to love.

Deciding to listen to him you grabbed an apple and a snack from the vending machine to suffice his request. Sitting back down you opted to refresh your conference notes, getting prepped for your next press conference. You needed to get in contact with the latest victim’s family for Hotch too. Spending the rest of lunch, you decided to knock out your needed tasks to make him happy. To let him know that he did hire the right person. You could do this.

“How was your date with Hotch?” Derek asked as he and Spencer walked back into the conference room after they got back from lunch. Completely interrupting your silence that you were enjoying.

Rolling your eyes, you knew he was only trying to work you up. You quickly learned that Derek was the type to tease you. His form of love.

“What are you on about?” You gave him a quizzical look. Hoping to come off as dumb as possible.

“Don’t play dumb.” He sat in the chair right across from you.

Cocking your head to the side you only looked at him curiously, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Derek.”

This time Spencer spoke up, “It is uncommon that Hotch stayed back. But you are brand new. He could have just been checking in on her.”

“See,” You raised your eyebrows to let him know Spencer was the right one, “Dr. Reid is correct. He was just checking in on his new employee.”

Derek rolled his eyes this time, much more dramatically than you, “Sure, whatever you say Y/L/N.”

“Although,” Reid spoke up again. You snapped your head around in a panic. He was not supposed to say anything further to egg Derek on, “He has been watching you quite a lot. I noticed it when we were back at Quantico. Then when you were asleep on the jet. And really during this whole case…”

“Boy genius!” Derek laughed clapping him on the back. Spencer just looked back and forth between the two of you knowing he said something you didn’t like as you gave him a less than impressed look. Derek was grinning ear to ear, eating all this shit right on up.

You shook your head, “Because I’m new!”

“And oh, so pretty too.” Derek’s smile only grew wider, if possible, when you blushed a bright shade of tomato red. You just loved how your body exposed you of your emotions.

“Shut up. Does not. Drop it.” Grumbling, you turned away from both of them.

Spencer leaned back silently observing Derek’s picking on you. He didn’t really think much of it at first. But once he saw Hotch’s wondering eyes over and over again, he had to make a mental note of it. He didn’t act this was when he started or when Penny started. It only seemed to be reserved for you.

Spencer had a silent conversation with Rossi as he caught Hotch staring at you when you were sleeping on the plane. Rossi only smiling. Rossi knew something.

“Seems like you might have a little crush too.” Derek made a kissy face. This was a nightmare. Sure, you may have a small little crush, but he was your fucking boss. Hell would have to freeze over before anything could happen between the two of you.

“Do not.”

“Yeah see,” Derek leaned forward, “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to.”

Derek only smiled, “We’ll be watching.”

“Go for it.”

Your personal phone buzzed in your pocket. Not thinking much of it you pulled it out of your seeing that same number from earlier pop up again. Opening the message your heart might’ve stopped right then and there.

‘You can’t hide Y/N. I know where you are and I’m coming. Virginia? Really?’

You forgot the two of them were sitting there as you read the text over and over again. Burning the God forsaken image into your mind. How? How could he have found you. Why now? Why almost a year later? You wanted to block the number, but you knew he’d just find another way to get ahold of you. You also knew you needed to show the police and fast. But then that’d expose you completely. Open up everything.

“You good Y/N?” Derek asked ripping you right back into the present.

“Yeah, just thinking about those girls.” You lied hoping you were a good enough actor to get you out of this one.

He nodded, “it’s hard. To view them as both human and try and distance yourself. You’ll figure it out. We all did. It might be tomorrow. It might be in a few months. But you’ll get there.”

“Thanks Derek.” You sighed fully accepting their fate. That you could move on from. But the horror of being stalked by your ex unfortunately loomed in the back of your mind.

Spencer smiled enjoying the interaction between new friends. He liked you. Derek seemed to like you. Hotch seemed to like like you. And Rossi was bound to adore you if Hotch did. Emily of course would hate you at first and then grow to love you. You were in.

The rest of the team worked tirelessly until the sun went down. Hotch ordered the team back to the hotel demanding a good night’s sleep. You knew it wouldn’t come. It hadn’t come in the almost week you’d been in the horror show.

After tossing and turning for what felt like forever you knew you had to get out. Get away for a moment. Everything felt so suffocating. You guys couldn’t do it. Weren’t able to save the fifth girl. She showed up that morning and you knew that night he’d probably have another. Fuck, why was the world so cruel?

So, you might’ve done the dumbest damn thing that you’ve ever done and called an Uber to take you to the bar down the street. You knew you shouldn’t of. Or at least let somebody know where you were going but you just needed to get away. One or two drinks couldn’t have hurt.

That was until you were sipping on your third drink feeling a little too good. You were people watching enjoying the music that was pumping throughout. Eyes on the group of young women having a good time you didn’t see the man come sit next to you.

“Come here often?”

Turning to your right, the man sitting on the barstool next to you waited for your response. Giving him a quick once over you knew something was not right with him. Your gut was screaming at you to turn the other way.

“No.” You tried your best to ignore him, but he just kept talking. Not taking your silence as a no.

“That’s a shame. So pretty.” His slimy eyes trailed your body. A small shiver went down your spine. Trust your gut. If there was one thing you were taught, it’s to always trust your gut. You took a peek at the man. Young man who was short, fat and creeping on a young girl at night? The same night your unsub would be hunting his sixth victim? Could it be him? Could you be so lucky?

“I’m not interested.” You kept your eyes forward carful now. You had to figure out if it was him.

He really didn’t know how to take no for an answer, “Don’t be so harsh beautiful. It’ll only age you quicker.”

“Look I don’t need some guy with mommy issues telling me how I should live my life. Please just go away.” Moms made him mad. This had to be it.

He gave you a sickening smile, “I didn’t have a mommy. So how can I have mommy issues dear?”

This was your unsub. Had to be. Trust your gut, right? Of all the fucking people in the world to get approached by it was him? Jesus. It then hit you that you were his next victim, or so he thought. He targeted you to take down. Damn, what were the odds of that?

“That’s exactly the problem.”

“Oh, come on beautiful. Let me buy you a drink. It’s free and if you want me to leave after I will.” You needed to keep him talking. If he was talking to you that meant he wasn’t talking to another girl.

“Sure, let me just go freshen up really quick while you get the drinks.” You gave the creep a half smile deciding this would be the perfect time to call Hotch. The longer you took his attention the better chance that he wouldn’t escape. It had to be him. His profile down to his absent mother was nearly perfect.

Hands shaking you begrudgingly typed in Hotch’s number. He was going to absolutely lose it. But you were sure, this had to be the guy. He was short, stalky, and talked like the most misogynistic fuck you’d ever been around. It had to be him. You so wished you weren’t three long island iced teas down though your brain felt a little hazy. Hitting the call button, you knew it wouldn’t be long before he answered.

“Hotchner.”

“Hey.. hey boss.” You sucked in a breath knowing how awkward you sounded. Fuck, why was this so hard?

“Agent Y/L/N.” He sounded more alert now. You glanced at the time only to curse that it was already one in the morning. You’d been out far too late, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m at a bar and…”

“You’re what?” He sounded pissed raising his voice only a little. Oh well. This was more important.

You sighed and continued. Letting him know you were irritated that he interrupted you, “I’m at a bar. I needed to clear my head and I think the unsub might or might not be trying to take me home. If you know what I mean.” You wanted to giggle but you knew that’d set the overprotective man off. You weren’t feeling so hot.

You heard rustling in the background. He must be getting up, “The unsub? What? Stay there. Send me your location.” He was trying to process all this information as you so casually told him what was going on. How were you so calm? Were you fucking with him?

“Yeah, okay. I’m in the bathroom, I…”

“Stay there. Stay on the phone.” It sounded like a growl. He was pissed. More than pissed. You didn’t even know the man that well and you knew he was going to lay into you for this.

“Okay.” You felt the alcohol kick it into high gear now. At least, you’d hopped it was only alcohol that was making it hard to concentrate. But this didn’t feel like an alcohol buzz. This felt like your body slowly shutting down.

“Y/L/N!” He yelled on the phone. You must have spaced out. Fuck. Maybe he did put something in your drink. You weren’t usually so spacey.

“Yes, sorry?”

“I asked you how you know it’s him? The unsub?”

“Oh, uhm yeah.” The walls started spinning. Trying to regain your focus only to be met with a splitting migraine, “Shit.” You groaned. Your head felt far too heavy for this just to be alcohol.

“Y/N. What’s going on?” He sounded a bit panicked. You felt horrible for doing this to him but boy were you glad he was on the other end of this phone call right now.

You sat yourself down on a toilet locking the door in front of you hoping this would pass soon, “Hotch, I think he drugged me.” You were so good with your drink though. Never letting it out of your sight. How in the hell could he have slipped something?

You heard some muffled sounds from the other end of the line. It only sounded like him though, “I’m three minutes away. Are you in a safe spot?” His panic ridden voice almost sounded like it was going to break. You’d only known the man for a week now, but you’d grown somewhat close to him. You probably talked to him more than anybody on your team, being the communications liaison and all. Not only did you guys just click it felt so natural and normal to want to be around him. To push his buttons in the best way.

“Yeah, yeah,” Your head began slumping against the stall feeling heavier than it really was. Fucking fuck. What in the hell, “Locked in a bathroom stall.” You mumbled knowing you weren’t going to be terribly coherent here soon.

Moments felt like a lifetime. Then the bathroom door flew open. It didn’t feel right though. Didn’t feel like Hotch.

“Hotch?”

“Who in the hell is Hotch?” That voice from the bar rang out. Eyes wide you knew you didn’t have much time or quite frankly any strength to fight this guy off. Even if you were the same height.

“What are you doing in here? Get out!” You managed to spit out. The brain fog seemed to momentarily lift in the sheer panic of the situation you managed to find yourself in.

“I thought you ran off on me. It’s time to go.” You heard the door handle jiggle back and forth. Pulling your legs to your chest you sat all the way back on the toilet seat. Fucking hell. How was this your life?

“I’m not leaving with you.” You tried to sound confident, but it came out sounding weak and afraid. Just like you were. Terribly weak. Horrifically afraid.

“Oh honey. But you are.”

“She’s not.” You heard your bosses voice and the click of a loaded gun, “You have the right to remain silent…” Hotch went off on his spiel only for you to lose yourself to your thoughts again. Taking big, ragged breaths it hit you just how close to death you were yet again.

“Y/N, can you open the door?” It was him. Hotch. Thank God.

You weren’t too far gone just yet. Lifting your head from the stall door you managed to stand on your own. Slowly you unlocked the door. Hotch nearly kicked the door into you as he was eager to check you over. He needed to confirm that you were okay. He knew he had to reprimand you for this behavior, but it wasn’t the time. You looked petrified. Scared. He knew you’d never really be the same. How could somebody be once they know they were the target of literal murder? Hotch just didn’t know you’d been through this before though. That this wasn’t even the craziest thing that had happened to you this year.

After checking you over and not saying a damn word he ushered you to the ambulances that were lined up outside. You felt a disgusting wave of embarrassment knowing they were called for you. If there was one thing you had hated it was being the damn center of attention. Fucking hell. You had to talk about this in a press conference too. Your job just got a whole lot more interesting.

“Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”

“Hotch, I don’t need to go…”

“Not a word Agent.” He shut you down so quickly and harshly you shut right on up. The man of very few words was giving you even less than you were used to. You royally fucked this one up. Hopefully you had a job once you got back to Quantico.

Your hands trembled before you knocked on his office door. Hotch had asked you to hang back and meet him in his office after the jet had landed. The team gave you sorrowful looks as they exited. You knew you were in trouble. But damn, did they have to look like they were going to your funeral.

You heard a faint, “Come in.” Only to be met with a stoic Hotch sitting at his desk.

Quickly, you sat in the chair in front of him just waiting. Fuck. This almost felt worse than disappointing your ex. Hotch actually meant something to you.

“What were you thinking?” He asked far too calmly.

“I wasn’t sir, I…”

He stood up not daring to look down at you, “I told you all to go to bed. To get some sleep. And you go to the bar? What the hell were you thinking?” He undid his tie. Already frustrated

“But sir I..”

“I’m talking.” He raised his voice a notch. Enough for you to back down. Not daring to look up to him your heart began to race. How awful this all felt. It was one thing to upset you ex but to disappoint Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m sorry... I”

He raised his voice, a little too loudly now, “You disobeyed direct orders Agent! Do you know what that means? That means you could have died out there. Do you understand me?”

You shrunk within yourself brining yourself right back to that night. God how you wish your brain didn’t work like this but here you were. You weren’t in Hotch’s office at the BAU nope, you were in that kitchen. The night you almost died. The night your ex tried to kill you. You heard those chilling words.

“Now, Y/N. You need to learn to not talk back to me. Do you understand me?”

Bringing your knees to your chest you couldn’t stop the stupid fat tears that raced down your face. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know. But God damn did it hurt. Your ex said those same damned words right to your face.

“I’m so…” You tried to breath, but you couldn’t. You took short rapid breaths just trying to fucking breath. What in the hell was happening to you? It felt like your lungs were collapsing in on you.

Aarons eyes softened as he saw the tears begin to flow. He didn’t mean to make you cry. You were so different than the rest of the team. The rest of the would have brushed him off or rolled their eyes. But then you broke down. You looked panicked. Like you were in a different world.

“Y/L/N?” He asked hoping to bring you back to this planet. But you were gone.

He walked over to you crouching down, “Y/N.” He knew he couldn’t speak to loudly. That seemed to set you off the first time. He had to go about this differently. He began to reach out to touch you only to met with the panicked version of you he’s seen.

“Don’t touch me!” You jumped out of your chair somehow finding your breath after all of this. You couldn’t let him get near you. He’d hurt you. Just like your ex. Just like the guy at the fucking bar the other night.

“Y/L/N.” He backed off putting his hands above his head as you sat down against the wall, “You’re having a panic attack

“Just stop!” You covered your face with your hands bringing your knees close to your chest. It felt so hard to breath.

Aaron took a few steps closer careful not to overstep but when you saw him you about lost him. He wasn’t Hotch he was your ex coming to take you out for good this time.

“Please.” You put your hand up to stop him. He noticed your trembling hand that asked him to stop. This was a response he never had expected. You’d been so guarded he hadn’t a clue what this could be from. Aaron was used to trauma. That was his field. Trauma and more trauma. It saddened him to know that you’d been through something that could make you so blasé to the fact that you’d almost been kidnapped, tortured, and murdered the other night. Whatever it was he had a sneaking suspicion that this was a response to that same trauma.

“I’m sorry.” He stopped again sitting on the ground. He watched as you struggled to breathe. He wanted to wrap you in his arms so desperately it hurt. It was painful to watch you struggle. God, he wanted to be there for you. He shouldn’t have felt this way about a subordinate. About one his employees. About somebody so much younger than him. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Ever since you came in for that damned interview he was hooked.

He wasn’t mad at you more so the situation. He knew the odds of that happening were one in millions. But of course, you were that one in a million chance. He knew how gorgeous you were. It wasn’t a surprise per say but the thought of actually losing you after not even getting the chance to know you hurt him. He only scratched the surface of you, and he was enamored. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to get to know the real you.

All you saw was him. Your stupid ex sitting there taunting you. Waiting for you to slip up. You just kept trying to fucking breath, but it wasn’t happening.

“Y/N.” He spoke again.

Shaking your head you couldn’t take it, “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, Y/N.” He frowned letting himself become small now, “It’s me. Aaron. Aaron Hotchner.”

Your eyes flicked up to him as you cowered against the wall. He was Aaron. Not your stupid fucking ex. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“It’s me. Can I please come closer?” He begged sitting there waiting. Waiting for the second you would let him.

You nodded continuing your short breathes. Aaron Hotchner. He was a friend. He was okay. God damn. You couldn’t believe you were reacting like this. It just happened. You didn’t even have a thought to stop it. Your mind took yourself back to that kitchen a year ago.

Slowly he scooted closer reaching out to you, “it’s okay. I promise. Try and take a deeper breath, okay? On the count of three?”

You nodded waiting for him to continue.

“One. Two. Three.”

Somehow, someway he was able to get you to calm down. With slow counts and patience, you eventually managed to get your breathing back to normal. Taking long slow breaths you couldn’t bear to look up to the man. How fucking embarrassing was all of this.

“I’m so sorry.” You barely spoke.

“Nothing to apologize for Y/N. Can I touch you?”

“Yeah.” You still couldn’t look up. So ashamed.

Feeling his arm wrap around your back you closed your eyes letting him take you in. He pulled you into his chest wrapping his arms around you. Squeezing tightly, he dropped one hand brushing your hair out of your face.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered into your hair trying to make you feel a bit better. He couldn’t imagine the agony you must be in. He wished he could just take it and throw it all away for you. He was in far too deep. He couldn’t seem to stop himself.

“It’s okay.” You replied softly letting your head fall against his chest. Whatever embarrassment you felt washed away as you breathed him in. He just felt like comfort.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

“But” you paused taking another breath. Whatever, he should know why you were as fucked as you really were. So, you told him everything. All the nitty gritty details. He listened. Squeezed you when you were slow to continue. To encourage you.

Once you finished, he paused taking everything in. He was shocked the world could be so cruel to someone as gentle as yourself. How could anybody be so awful. How could they not see how wonderful you really were?

“Thank you for telling me.” You nodded, “Sure. Just don’t think any less of me?”

“Never. Come on, let’s get you home.” He stood reaching his hand out to you.

You nodded letting him pull you up, “Thank you Hotch.”

“Jack’s gone for the night. Stay with me tonight in my guest room? I think you’ll sleep better.” He asked which came out more as of a demand.

You could only nod letting yourself fall into him, “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Can you walk?”

You smiled softly, “Yes, Aaron. I’m not inept.”

He chuckled softly, “That sounds nice.”

You turned towards him with a big cheesy grin feeling stupidly giddy all of the sudden, oh how this man got you so quickly, “Oh yeah?”

He nodded reaching for your hand, “Come on now.”

“Sounds good, Aaron.” You took his hand happily.

Part 2

@senjoritanana @ssaddyhotchner @realdirectionx @mojo366 @2234world @tonys-bitch @gspenc @life-of-music3 @topguncultleader @whyislenaluthorsohot @givemeth @alex-1967s-blog @montyfandomlove @roastyyytoastyyy

[vyingeyes]

Project Crown - 1 - Ground Zero

Geonosis was the kind of nightmare that nobody could ever really prepare you for. The Kaminoans had tried, but the divide between training and a real battlefield stretched unfathomably wide, and the only way to bridge that gap is to experience the latter firsthand.

Course was one of many clones deployed to Geonosis. He also seemed to be the only one with a functioning brain.

“48! Get back in formation!” Kyr snapped beside him.

Course didn’t bother turning to see what trouble their idiot brother was getting up to this time, far too preoccupied trying to patch up the unnamed clone that a Geonosian had flung down to their squad from one of the ledges a few meters above them in the canyon. The poor guy was thoroughly dazed from his short flight, but his wounds weren’t serious.

Kyr’s steady presence hovered by Course’s left side. “Status?”

“Stable. He’ll be able to keep fighting as soon as he’s able to think straight.”

The newcomer groaned out something vaguely interrogative, and Course turned to address Kyr head-on.

“Give me two minutes.”

Kyr’s visor tilted toward the ledges, and Course knew he was on the lookout for more bugs. “Hurry.”

There’s not really much I can do to speed the process up, Course thought dryly as their unit moved to block the wounded clone from any new avenue of attack. Nonetheless, he leaned over the clone.

“Break’s over,” he said bluntly. “As soon as you’re up we can get you back to your unit.”

“What… Where…?”

A flash of annoyance flickered through Course, and he tried his best to smother it. It was reasonable that a trooper would be confused after such an atypical experience. It wasn’t his fault he’d hit his head. Probably.

“A Geo dropped you down onto my squad. We’re gonna get you back up to yours.”

“Oh.” The other clone pushed himself into a sitting position, crest waving like a flag as he looked around to try and get his bearings back about him.

“Is he up?” Kyr called from where he spoke with 48.

“It hasn’t been two minutes,” Course reminded.

“I’m up,” the clone announced, pushing himself the rest of the way up.

Course sighed, but offered the clone a hand, pulling him to his feet.

“Myth contacted his unit,” Kyr told Course. “They’re sending down their gunner to help bring him back up. We just have to stick around to make sure no Geonosians interrupt their climb.”

The gunner in question just barely peeked over the edge of the east-side ledge, fiddling with something, presumably in preparation to drop down. The ledge wasn’t too tall, maybe six meters, but the wall was sheer, and the Crown-Green unit didn’t have the gear to scale it even if they wanted to. Fortunately, the unit above them seemed to be prepared for this exact situation, and in moments, the heavy gunner was descending.

Course knew that Green Squad alone could probably handle bug-watching, so he didn’t hesitate to use the lapse of downtime to head directly over to Myth and drag him under an overhang to check him over.

“Wh- Course!” Myth yelped, staggering as Course pulled him along. “I’m fine!”

Course ignored him, opting instead to remove Myth’s upper bicep armor with a quick click and pull of the release mechanism. Immediately, the magnets deactivated and the rerebrace fell away from his brother’s arm in two pieces. Course twisted Myth’s arm to better assess the area where a stray bolt had skimmed him earlier that morning during their first big firefight.

Course removed the hastily applied bacta patch from the sliver of blister-bright skin revealed by the incision in the body glove, and Myth’s hiss through clenched teeth told Course that he wasn’t enjoying it. But the bacta did its job, and as Course applied a new one (more careful now that he had the time to dedicate to it, carefully centered so that the bacta-infused center sat flush with the worst of the burn), he grew confident that it would be fully closed by the time all this mess was over.

“Seriously, it was fine,” Myth muttered, his words just barely making it through the vocoder.

“Don’t be a brat,” Course said. “Infection is one of the stupidest ways you could die. I’ve been wanting to fix that patch for hours.”

“We’re supposed to be watching for Geonosians!”

The sound of blasters firing followed immediately by a bright, “Got it!” from their unit made Course raise an unimpressed eyebrow under his helmet even knowing his brother wouldn’t be able to see it.

“I think they’ve got it handled.”

Myth’s visor dropped toward the ground, and for a moment Course considered poking fun at him for being so petulant, but then Kyr ducked into the cover with them.

“Dral’s back with Orbit-Nexu,” he informed. “We need to keep moving.”

Course latched Myth’s rerebrace back on. “Of course.”

“Of course,” Myth echoed absently, already moving back toward the unit the moment his armor was secured.

“Any problems?” Kyr asked, a hint of his Leader Voice peeking in past the otherwise innocuous question.

Course shook his head. “Just took a second to redress Myth’s graze,” he dismissed. “Didn’t have time to do it properly the first time.”

“Good. Let’s get going, then.”

Together, they headed back toward the unit, where 48 was giving Myth a dramatic retelling of what Course guessed would be the Geo kill that he had just performed.

“—hit it right in the wing, it went spiraling, and I—”

“Alright soldiers,” Kyr interrupted, “break’s over. We’ve still got a rendezvous to make.”

48 threw his head back, clearly personally targeted, but he moved with the rest of them to get back into formation. Kyr and Punch side-by-side in the lead, followed by Myth and Push, then Course and Pinch, Pull and Punt, and 48 on his own at the rear of the group. Comfortable. Familiar. Protocol.

Technically speaking, it was protocol to have infantry at the rear to prevent any specialists from getting attacked from behind. Course knew that 48 specifically got put in that slot to prevent him from getting sidetracked trying to talk to the person beside him, but it felt like a bigger risk that he would get a bright idea and leave the formation, and then none of them would notice until he was already gone. Kyr clearly had more faith in him than Course did.

“8ball is heading back our way,” Kyr announced over local comms as they continued the trek through the dusty canyon. “He says it should be a clear shot to the landing field.”

Kyr did his best to conceal his apprehension, but unfortunately, Course was also familiar with their brother. Just because 8ball thought the path was clear, that didn’t mean that it was by anyone else’s standards.

And, as the Crown-Green unit caught sight of their scout dashing back toward them, a small horde of B1s trailing behind him, Course’s skepticism was rewarded.

Their helmet comms crackled as 8ball connected to the local frequency. “Hey guys! Help!”

Blaster bolts filled the air between the two parties, and in a frankly impressively short moment 8ball found himself barreling into their formation at top speed. He did not slow down once he got past the leads, and Myth and Push jerked to either side to avoid getting run over. Beside Course, Pinch moved to the right. So did Course.

8ball scrambled to slow down in the two meters he had to realize Course was stepping into his path, sending up a spray of dust and grit as he tried to hit the brakes. Course braced. 8ball hit him with a loud CLACK, armor colliding with armor, and Course stumbled backwards to keep them both from falling to the ground.

Course gripped his brother by his shoulders and bodily turned him back toward the droids, pushing him a bit to give himself the room needed to raise his own rifle.

48 shoved his way up to be with the two of them, shooting all the while. “Y’know, 8ball, typically you want to shoot the droids that are shooting at you.”

8ball snarled something distinctly offensive as he fumbled to equip his rifle with its sniper extension.

“Focus,” Course snapped at the both of them. “This isn’t a sim.”

48 straightened up theatrically. “Yes sir, medic sir!”

Course scowled, but 8ball laughed and began lining up his shots.

“What happened to ‘clear’?” Kyr demanded over their comm.

8ball fired off a shot, and Course watched a clanker fall bodily into its neighbor. “I said ‘pretty clear’! And it is! Once we get past these guys.”

There was a laugh from someone in Green Squad at that, and in front of Course, Punch shook his head in the resigned sort of way that most sane individuals did after more than ten minutes alone with Crown Squad. Course would know it. He did it daily.

“Charge primed!” Punt announced behind them, and the unit scattered like clockwork while the ordnance specialist readied his shot. In an instant, the path cleared, and the explosive was flying through the air toward the unit of droids.

Even from the moderate distance between the groups, Course could hear the cartoonish, “uh oh” that came from at least three separate droids when the explosive rolled neatly into the center of the group. The explosion itself was quick and controlled, enough to fill the comm channel with brief feedback from the sheer number of open lines, but not enough to shake the walls of the cliffs on either side of them.

“Nice shot,” Kyr complimented, lowering his gun now that the threat was neutralized. “8ball?”

8ball flitted to the front of the unit. “Yes?”

“What the hell was that?”

“Well, I snuck by them really easily on the first trip,” the scout started, “but then on the way back they’d decided to get in the way and I couldn’t get back without getting their attention, and it’d take too long to deal with them alone, and I knew the SBDs would be too slow to follow all the way back to the group so I thought—”

“Supers?” Punch interrupted, head jolting back the way that 8ball had come and half-lifting his Z-6 like he expected a Super to appear dramatically out of the dust, summoned by the very mention.

“It’s just the Supers now,” 8ball said, a bit defensive now at the tone of the other squad leader. “That’s why I said it was ‘pretty’ clear. It was just two squads of B1s and the SBDs. That’s nothing.”

Kyr went quiet, head tilting, and Course knew he was trying to be patient.

“How many SBDs?” Course asked, shooting a glance towards Kyr that hopefully conveyed it happened, cope.

“Just two,” 8ball said, and the tension drained out of Kyr’s shoulders.

“Alright, that’s workable.” Kyr glanced toward Punch, then Punt. “Do you have enough ordnance to deal with both of them?”

Technically they all had some ordnance, but Kyr would be trying to keep them all as armed as possible for as long as possible, so taking care of these Supers would fall primarily on Punt.

“Easily,” Punt said, waving him off. “Leave the clankers to me.”

“8ball, I want you to be with him,” Kyr said. “You know the drill with B2s. See if you can’t get their plating to crumble before Punt takes his shot.”

Punch examined the group. “It might be useful to have 48 with them, too. I know he knows his way around a grenade, if it comes down to it.”

48 lit up even through the thick layers of armor, practically glowing under the plastoid. “Happily, sir.”

Kyr shot Punch a look, then 48. “It’s not a bad idea,” he permitted. “You three will head in. Course, I want you with them. The rest of us will be behind you to prevent a flank.”

Course wanted to argue against that. It made more sense to keep the medic with the bigger chunk of the group, especially when the men taking point would be ideally staying out of range of the B2s. But it wasn’t his job to question the order, and if Kyr was the one giving it, he’d follow it. Hopefully the rest of the unit would be staying close enough to them that it wouldn’t matter in the end anyway.

“Alright,” he said. At least if he went, he’d be able to stop 8ball and 48 from doing something inadvisable. He didn’t trust Punt to do as much.

Kyr grasped Course by the vambrace and tapped their helmets together for a few short seconds. “Good luck.”

Bastard. “You’re better off telling that to 8ball.”

An amused huff crackled through Kyr’s vocoder, and he gave Course one last pat to the back before moving to give 8ball and 48 the same treatment. The second Kyr stepped away from him, Myth fluttered up to Course.

“SBDs are slow but they hit hard,” Myth blurted. Then, all in the same breath, “Their plating is blast proof but there are weak points at the edges of each plate that if targeted can cause the internal components to be exposed and leave them more susceptible—”

Course shook his head. “Myth. We’ve got it. You focus on keeping the Geos away from us, we’ll worry about the Supers.”

Myth hovered a second longer, arms moving in little aborted jerks like he had more to say, before his head snapped into a nod and he hurried back toward Push and Pull.

An arm slung itself around Course’s shoulders and he tensed, turning his helmet and nearly clacking his helmet against 48’s.

“So… Babysitting duty,” 48 dragged out.

Course blinked slowly. “Yes. Babysitting you.”

“Kyr’s mad at 8ball right now, not me,” 48 dismissed. “You’re babysitting him.”

“You broke formation. He’s mad at both of you.”

“Yeah, but I only broke formation. 8ball’s doing 8ball-level stupid shit. He takes the lead.”

“Alright Crowns,” Punt sighed, pushing himself into their little bubble and grabbing 48 by the strap of his armor. “Let’s go blow up some B2s.”

They steered toward 8ball and, having collected their last stray teammate, set out into the valley that 8ball had scouted.

8ball darted to take point. “They should still be pretty far in, the big ones don’t do well with uphill slopes, if they even bothered chasing.”

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Punt asked, glancing around the steepening cliffs with a wariness that you couldn’t help but gain after having one too many Geonosians appear out of nowhere.

“There’s a gap between the cliffs that we need to go through to get to the landing zone,” 8ball said. “But a little bit before that there’s this place where a bunch of these mountain passes meet at a sort of crossroads. The droids were down the left one when I passed the first time. It’s only a few minutes out. I was thinking we could scale one of the ledges that overlook it and take pot shots from there.”

Course breathed an impatient sigh. “Coordinates, 8ball.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sending them now.”

A ping on the corner of his HUD appeared, and Course accepted it to update his local map with a location marker.

“We should probably start climbing now,” 8ball considered. “It’ll just get steeper the further in we go.”

Nobody was going to argue with a scout about local topography, so they began to painstakingly increase the distance between themselves and the ground, following 8ball as he made occasionally precarious hops between the cliffside’s sporadic footholds. Course’s only regret was that he wouldn’t get to watch the rest of their unit attempt the journey.

Course trailed behind the three of them, focusing his attention on the cliffs around them more than the conversation going on over their comms. Any sudden shadow made by the clouds drifting above them could be a Geonosian gunning for them, if not for the undisturbed quiet of the canyon. Geos typically didn’t run at them, though. All of the ones that Course had encountered thus far flew, and their wings made a distinct droning buzz that had reminded him of the insects they studied in their flash training modules—they hadn’t included audio, but the description couldn’t be like anything else. The Geos were presumably louder than a traditionally sized insect, but so far, he hadn’t run across one to compare them with.

“What do you think, Course?” 48 prompted suddenly over their comm. They were on relatively flat ground, now, and his brother peered over his shoulder back at him.

Course did not know what the topic was, but given the clones present, he didn’t think it mattered very much. He fixed his visor on 48 and stared wordlessly.

“See? I told you Course would agree with me,” 8ball bragged. “Your idea is stupid anyway. There’s no way that you’d be able to—”

Course rolled his eyes. “Stay on task.”

8ball sighed, but if he kept talking, it happened on a comm frequency that didn’t include Course, which was really all he could ask for.

They made it to the overlook in good time. Kyr would be glad, given that their rendezvous was supposed to be in twenty-two minutes and they were already pushing it. 8ball made quick work of dropping to his stomach and propping his sniper while 48 stooped to help Punt arm the grenades.

“Told you. I think they might be stuck,” 8ball crackled through the comm.

Course glanced over the ledge to get an idea of the scene and saw that, as 8ball had suggested earlier, the so-called “super” battle droids did indeed seem to be stuck at the bottom of a fifty-degree slope. Course struggled to think of too many other reasons the droids wouldn’t have gone to reinforce the B1s’ attack.

“Either that or they’re guarding the pass,” 8ball continued idly. “That’s the way we need to go. You need to make sure that you don’t blow up the entrance or I’m gonna have to find a new route and then we’re really gonna be late.”

Course looked past the SBDs and saw what 8ball must be referring to. Half blocked by the hulking frames of the supers was a crack in the cliff face. A clone could probably fit, if they took their time and entered sideways, but an SBD had no hope. Course just hoped that the rest of the pass widened out, if that’s the way they’d be having to go soon.

“Alright,” Course said. “Get to work.”

“Yeah? And what’re you gonna do, watch us?” 48 demanded. 

Course knew intrinsically that 48 just wanted to get a rise out of him, but he couldn’t help the slight air of annoyance as he said, “I’m going to watch your six so you don’t get ambushed. Hurry up.”

48 laughed as Course turned and stepped away to watch their flank. Course never did understand the carelessness of his brothers, but he wouldn’t be wasting the time trying to figure it out now of all times.

He was aware, vaguely, of Punt and 8ball coordinating their attack a solid few meters away, but Course examined the rocky ledges above and below them. This planet had an eerie atmosphere— eerie in the way that it seemed to house enemies that could appear or disappear in a moment. On the gunship down, Myth had rattled off a hundred different facts about the planet’s geography, but the one that Course remembered most clearly was that the Geonosians lived primarily under the surface, in dingy caves and tunnels. It made sense, if you wanted to avoid the glaring heat of the Geonosian sun, but it also meant that Course could never be sure that a shadow was just a shadow. The natural texture of the cliffs meant that there could be a tunnel mouth hiding just out of view at any point, and none of them would know any better.

“Ready?” 8ball asked.

Punt’s comm crackled as he spoke. “Go.”

A deafening crack shattered the quiet as 8ball took his first shot, followed quickly by a second. Course looked over just long enough to see Punt lobbing his first explosive down at the droids, a muffled blast following just seconds after.

“One damaged, one staggered,” 48 reported through their local helmet comm. “Eighty, target the one by the wall. Punt, the other one should be easy to finish off, its hull’s warping—”

Another crack as 8ball fired his sniper rifle, but Course didn’t look to see if it hit. Punt said something about the SBDs below, loud in Course’s ears as he fumbled to mute the incoming audio. A high pitched droning echoed in the walls of the canyon, quickly growing louder as its source approached. Where was it coming from?

“Course!”

That wasn’t over the comms, and Course didn’t have time to identify which brother had called out to him before unyielding hands grabbed him and hoisted him into the air.

Course had been trained for a lot of things. Impromptu, uncontrolled flight was one of them, actually, but it had always been in the context of jetkits, not flying enemies. He couldn’t cut the fuel line or unlatch this carrier from his armor. He couldn’t even complete a fraction of a twist, due to the hold the bug had him in, so wriggling his way out didn’t look likely. The droning from before now rattled his skull as the ground shrank underneath him, and he couldn’t hope to hear his brothers even if they somehow knew what to do in this situation—Myth would, but he wasn’t here either way. Course was alone.

Plasma bolts flew into the orange rock around him as the others tried to shoot at the bug, occasionally accompanied by the resounding crack of 8ball’s sniper, but either Course had been picked up by a master of evasion, or they were too afraid of shooting him instead of it. He’d love to tell them to just commit, because he’d much rather die getting shot than by whatever this thing had planned for him. The sound of rushing air muffled the shouts coming from below him, and as Course craned his neck to peer down, he realized that his window for surviving getting away from this bug was closing rapidly. Damned if you do…

Course would take death by falling over a secondary location any day. With that thought in mind, he ducked his chin as close to his chest as he could manage and slammed his head back into his captor with all his strength. He doubted he’d hit it anywhere important—the bugs that were big enough to carry a clone trooper had eerily long torsos—but between the barrage of blaster bolts and the headbutt, the bug loosened its grip enough for Course to jerk halfway out of its hold. The two of them dipped in the air for a moment as the Geonosian fought to maintain its grip on him, but with one arm free, Course was free to wretch the medical scissors out of his belt and stab at the bug until it gave up and dropped him completely.

Hurtling toward the ground was louder than heading up; the rushing air was familiar, and the absence of insectoid wings was more than made up for by the blood that roared in his ears. Somehow, both of those constants disappeared to highlight the sound his armor made as he skimmed the rock wall of the canyon. Course wasn’t sure if it would have been enough to slow his speed, but he had no time to run calculations. If he’d been thinking, he would have counted how long it took him to fall. It would give him an idea of how he should go about treating himself, should he survive the landing.

Unlike the first collision, Course did not hear himself hitting the ground. He could tell you how he landed—feet first, and then crumpling forward onto frantically-outstretched arms—but nothing else. He must have blacked out for a moment, perhaps upon impact? One minute he was falling, the next, he was flat on the ground. He knew how it happened but would be hard-pressed to describe it in any detail.

Sound filtered slowly back in through his helmet. Fuzzy voices of panicked brothers, indistinguishable without focus that he did not have. No more blaster-fire, no explosions, nothing to suggest they were still in danger. He found himself still on his front. The others must have caught up, because Myth or Pull would be the only ones with enough sense through the chaos to tell the others not to turn Course over in case of injury to the spine.

Course ignored the voices for a moment to focus deeply on the feel of his legs. They were in sharp, searing agony, which was nice. It meant that at the very least, he probably wasn’t paralyzed. His arms, too, ached, though not nearly as badly. But he survived, somehow, and although the realization slowly dawned that he hurt all over—no doubt from the events of the entire day, not just his impromptu flight—there was little more he could ask for.

Someone’s arm jostling his shoulder drew him out of himself, and a small sound of discomfort left him at the disruption.

“Course?” Kyr’s Leader Voice, unmistakably, which could only mean that he’d terrified his brother. “Can you hear me, vod?”

Course closed his eyes for a second. Can’t even fall out of the sky without having to do everything on his terms, he thought bitterly. He knew that was uncharitable. He also figured he was more than entitled to a little bit of a bad attitude, at that moment. He took a moment to brace himself. “… Yes.”

A chorus of identical voices broke out, quickly hushed, before Kyr spoke again. “What’s your status?”

Status? Course thought, astonished. That was… an unbelievable ask. He knew, logically, that Kyr falling back on protocol helped him to hold onto some sense of normalcy. His brother was definitely, certainly, very deeply concerned about Course. It still pissed him off. “… Blunt force trauma to the legs. Extensive. Probable minor damage to arms and skull,” he droned. “Recommended course of action is to administer one stim cannister to each leg and continue to the rendezvous.”

The chatter picked up again, and nobody shushed it this time.

“What?” Kyr demanded, pitch increasing in fractions. “You just broke both of your legs. You are not getting a stim and a pat on the back.”

“Protocol says I do.”

“This is an exception,” the Leader-Voice intoned, back in full-force and leaving no room for debate. “We’ve got seventeen minutes to get to the rendezvous. We can’t have you hobbling along behind us slowing us down. I’ll carry you.”

Course’s eyes shot open. “No, you won’t,” he argued, his normally flat tone lilting up with frustration and incredulity. “If you’d just administer the stim, I will be up faster than it will take you to figure out how to get me through that opening.”

“We’ll give you the stim and you can get through the narrowest part of the path,” Kyr agreed, “but once we can, I’m carrying you.”

“That is not protocol,” Course snarled, anger simmering up from his stomach.

“It’ll be faster.” Kyr’s voice held no concern for any potential breach in protocol. “The most important thing is that we make it to our rendezvous. How we get there isn’t so important.”

Course took a moment to process. If Kyr truly refused to relent on this… “Then I’ll be noting your disregard for protocol in my report.”

The quiet murmur of their other brothers cut out suddenly. Nobody said anything for a few long moments. A hesitant voice—who had to be either Myth or Pinch—was the next to speak.

“It’s really not worth it, Kyr. As long as we move now, we can still make it—”

“Write me up, then,” Kyr interrupted, ignoring the input entirely. His words grew sharper, edged in frustration. “I don’t care. I’m not having you walk on broken legs the entire way.”

He did not wait for a response, immediately injecting stim into the gaps between Course’s leg plates. Course supposed Kyr had spent the duration of the argument rummaging through Course’s med kit. A third, unexpected jab at the top of the neck startled Course, and he flinched away from it.

“I don’t trust that you didn’t hurt your back.” Kyr’s voice wasn’t so sharp now, perhaps in apology for the unwarranted extra shot.

Course did not grace him with any further reaction, instead rolling to his side and pushing himself upright. He ignored the influx of brothers at his every side, jerking to his feet with gritted teeth. Every pound of weight he put onto his legs sent screaming agony directly through his lower half, but he would not be encouraging Kyr’s disregard for regulation by doing anything other than breathe through it.

Kyr finally seemed to understand that he wouldn’t be getting acceptance out of Course today. “48, take point with 8ball.” Kyr continued to instruct the unit how they would proceed, fully ignoring the Green Squad Lead two meters away from him.

To Punch’s merit, he said nothing. He looked Course over and gave him a small nod as Kyr did his job for him. Course wondered how he just decided to let it go. Course wasn’t a squad lead. Wasn’t even kind of an officer, in any sense, other than being a medic, and even that being dismissed for what Kyr wanted to do was rage inducing. He couldn’t imagine spending his entire life being trained to lead others and then having some hard-headed ass swoop in and take that away from him.

They progressed to the ground level in a very nontraditional huddle of plastoid, half of them pointing their guns at every shadow on the rocks and the other half hovering around Course like he could turn to dust at any moment. If Course could focus on anything other than the amount of pain he was in, he was sure he’d tell them off so badly they wouldn’t ever look at him twice again.

The charred heaps of scrap that were once Super Battle Droids lay just in front of the narrow crevice that their unit would have to squeeze through. If Course was lucky, it would stay that narrow long enough for Kyr to drop the subject of carrying him.

Course glanced to 8ball. The scout inspected his sniper, uncharacteristically quiet, while 48 spoke lowly by the audio receptor of his helmet. What they were talking about, Course couldn’t say, but after a moment, 8ball nodded and pushed toward the front of the group to take point as previously instructed. He turned to the side and squeezed into the gap between the cliffs. A few steps in, he turned to face the unit again, waving cheerily.

48 went next, followed by half of Green Squad. There was a brief moment of concern where Punch nearly got his Z-6 stuck going through, but with a little pulling by 48, both clone and gun were in.

Kyr gestured Course to go first. Course assumed it was so that he could breathe down his neck the entire time, but bitterly followed the given instruction. Kyr followed close after. Blessedly, he did not attempt to hoist Course over his shoulder the moment they could walk straight.

Once the entire unit was confirmed to be in the passage, they began to make their trek. According to Course’s comm, they had approximately ten minutes before they were late for the rendezvous. Despite himself, anxiety began to bloom in the pit of Course’s stomach. The hard part of this deployment had already concluded—a brief firefight with Geonosian ground forces while the command class troopers and commandos knocked out the big stuff—and the only thing left was to show up on time.  What would happen to them if they failed to do something as simple as that?

He knew the others had to be feeling the same stress. Some of his brothers knew how to hide it better than others—he was pretty sure if Myth looked over his shoulder one more time, his neck would break—but every one of their lives hinged on a good combat report. Failure to do the one part of the mission that required them to think on their own feet wouldn’t look good. If they were lucky, they might end up somewhere nice and boring. If they weren’t—well, you don’t send your best troopers to fight on the front lines of losing battles. Maybe the Kaminoans would find the bleakest battle possible and deploy them there as cannon fodder.

About a minute later, the passage widened further, allowing them to pull up into a traditional two-lined formation lead by 8ball and 48 side-by-side. It was then that Kyr walked around Course and blocked his path.

Course fixed his T-visor on his brother. Kyr’s emotionless helmet peered back. He was sure both of them had their jaws set, could almost see the annoyed scowl Kyr must be wearing.  He knew all of their faces well, but he knew Kyr’s micro expressions better than anyone else.

Kyr didn’t seem eager to prolong their standoff any more than Course was. “You can let me carry you, or I will wrangle you into a hold.”

Unspoken: we don’t have time for this. Course knew that. At least Kyr didn’t feel the need to spell that one out for him.

Course said nothing for a moment. Reflected on the situation as a whole. Remembered the unspoken message he gave Kyr not an hour before—it happened, cope. He took a breath.

“It will be going in the medical report.”

“Fine by me.”

The air cleared suddenly. Course hadn’t realized it had ever thickened, but he felt it then.

Everyone else had expected him to cause a scene about it. They were waiting for him to dig his heels in and start an argument. Maybe because that’s what most of his batchmates would’ve done. Hell, if Kyr and Course were to trade positions, it was likely what Kyr himself would do. Maybe if they had any more time, Course wouldn’t let it fly so soon, but he knew that they didn’t have time to argue about it any more than they already had. So he let Kyr heft him over one shoulder.

Every step Kyr took, Course seethed. Not only was this a humiliating position to be in, but it was entirely unnecessary. Course had personally told Kyr of how every metric said they should proceed, and Kyr ignored him at every turn. The fact that he had gotten into this situation at all in the first place was ridiculous. There was no reason to send him on the team against the SBDs, except for that Kyr wanted supervision for the squadmates that he felt unable to trust with such a task. Which was stupid, given that all three had stayed on task just fine. Apparently, they even managed to take out the SBDs while trying to recover Course from the grips of the Geonosian. Punch should have been the one to go with 8ball, 48, and Punt. A heavy gunner would not only be helpful against the SBDs, but he would have stood a much better chance at deterring an oversized bug from trying to make off with a clone.

Anger rolled steadily through Course’s chest by the time they got to the rendezvous—with three minutes to spare, maybe Course had had some room to argue. Kyr set Course down just before they were swamped by other troopers. How kind of him. A company’s worth of clones milled about, a sea of shiny white plastoid ever-shifting as everyone tried to keep organized and stay with their squad while boarding the dropships meant to take them back to transport.

Kyr continued instructing their unit like he was the only one who knew what to do. Course listened as a formality, then turned to head toward the transport with their assigned number. They’d all read the brief—not just Kyr.

The troopers managing the transports gave him a nod as he limped up to the open door. Course couldn’t identify them, assuming he’d ever met them, but he did pity them a bit. Administrative tasks like they were doing weren’t the most impressive on a combat report. Might land them a title, but it’d be a title on some low-level base, given they weren’t command-class. It wasn’t the worst thing Course could imagine happening to a clone, but to many, it was world-ending.

Maybe clones were dramatic by nature, and it skipped a generation with him?

The rest of the unit piled into the transport, Greens brushing elbows with Crowns, and in minutes the ship was humming to life. Back to Kamino.

Course looked forward to his report.

-- -- -- --

Tumblr formatting is agonizing but I will learn it. Anything for my boys.

Chapter 2 can be found here

[my-writings-and-musings]

Hi!!! I have been reading a lot of your latest writings since Earthspark really pulled me back on my transformers hyperfixation but is it okay if I request headcanons of Earthspark Soundwave and Skywarp with a human s/o who's a scientist that used to be part of the war like mandroid? but is really kind and uses their skills to help and patch up the bots.

I feel that hyperfixation! Earthspark has become my brain's permanent background soundtrack and it's all I want to write about when I have time! I went with some headcanons and a short story, I hope you like them!

Skywarp

She was hesitant about your offer to help at first, but dealing with Mandroid left her little reason not to accept, even if she was sure you had something else planned. Free medical care and a safe house simply seemed too good to be true, and Novastorm shared that sentiment, informing her that you'd probably dissect them and sell their parts when you got the chance...

Imagine her surprise when she showed up with a damaged wing and found you not only willing to repair it, but downright concerned for her wellbeing. She was speechless as you guided her to rest, and hadn't a clue what to do as you treated the injury carefully and with painkillers for her comfort, in part because she expected you to reveal it was a ruse at any moment. It was only after you sent her on her way with the promise to return if she had any issues that she realized; you really wanted nothing more than to help.

From then on, she became your security, even if you tell her repeatedly that you don't need anything in return for your services. She doesn't listen and keeps an optic on you whenever she can, and if any of the bots you help show the tiniest trace of sass she makes it clear that you're to be addressed with respect. She also keeps the skies under her careful watch, lest GHOST or a filthy Autobot even thinks of getting the drop on you.

Without much to do, she'll start looking for reasons just to spend time with you, as she finds your company enjoyable for more than just medical care. Whether you realize it or not, she's more or less decided that the two of you are going to be friends. She's never met a human like you, after all, and she's not going to let anything happen to you.

Soundwave

"Hold still now, this might hurt."

Before you could apply the welder to the cleaned up gash on his arm, the sizable mech let out something like a huff and spoke with gruff confidence.

"Pain is of no consequence."

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his bravado, you dropped the welding mask back down, voice muffled but no less sarcastic as you replied, "A warped suture line is though, so just don't move, okay tough guy?" There was another grumpy huff, but otherwise he went quiet, allowing you to apply the flame and seal the injury. Moving quickly to spare him any unnecessary pain, you pretended not to notice his small tremors of discomfort as you worked, wishing you had some real painkillers to take the edge off. Unfortunately you only had enough for the truly critical emergencies...

As soon as the gash was sealed, you killed the flame and lifted your mask to inspect it. The mesh was still rough yet looking ready to start the natural healing process, compelling you to sigh softly before you stepped back to give him some room. "Try that out for me; does it feel okay?"

Lifting the arm in question, Soundwave flexed it to test the patch, not showing any sign of discomfort as he stretched out the mesh that had been gaping and bleeding when he'd arrived. Nodding once, he stood up from the makeshift medical berth as if ready to go at that very second. A quick tilt of his helm turned his visor to you. "This is acceptable."

"Keep an eye on it, and try to take it easy for a while. I'd like it if at least one of my patch jobs got a chance to heal properly." you replied with tangible weariness, thinking back to the countless cons you'd fixed up only for them to come stumbling back in a day or so to have their injuries patched up again. He was always the absolute worst of the bunch when it came to ignoring your orders, and judging by his lack of concern while testing out his injured arm, he had no intention of being careful this time around.

"I cannot make promises." he replied simply, looking ready to leave even if he'd only just stepped off the operating table. Going for the door of the small warehouse you'd turned into a safe house, he stopped to face you, speaking as plainly as he always did. "There is much to be done."

"I know, just..." you trailed off and took the opportunity to climb up the catwalk that rounded the building, putting yourself more at his eye level to say what was needed. He turned his attention to you completely, remaining respectfully quiet as you found the words to voice your concerns, though it was admittedly hard not to feel silly as you did so. Fussing over a three story warrior would have seemed unnecessary to most. "I worry, okay? I've got limited supplies, and if you ever need more than I have, there's not much I'll be able to do."

Though he only had the visor, you swore his expression shifted as if he raised a brow in surprise. Either way he went silent before turning on the spot and returning to your side, crouching down to speak at a far more intimate level.

"Concern... noted." he replied with a nod, every syllable delivered with careful consideration. You couldn't help smiling at the softness he seemed to reserve just for you, especially when he went quiet and seemed to plan out his next words before speaking them in a tone you dared to call bashful.

"Care will be taken."

You reached out and laid a hand on his, ignoring how he averted his gaze from what you knew was embarrassment before you replied softly "That's all I ask."

[starkstruck27]

TW: very brief mentions of suicide, and of course mentions of child abuse. Enjoy but please read with caution my friends.

Billy didn’t know if the urge to cry was coming from the fact that his dad had pulled him back in again, like a moth to a flame, or the fact that the man himself was lying in front of him dying. 

Either way, the urge was there, and Billy took a little bit of satisfaction from the fact that he was able to take deep breaths to steady himself and his dad couldn’t. He was dying of lung cancer, and didn’t have long, maybe a month left, at most. Most of the doctors estimated that he’d be gone within a week or two, though, so Billy finally made himself build up the courage to book himself a flight from Ocean City to Indianapolis and actually get on the plane. It’d been 15 years, and it still didn’t feel like nearly enough time had passed since he last saw his father. The bruises that’d been throbbing that day in 1988 were long gone, but as Billy stepped into the hospital room, his footsteps keeping time with the heart monitor and breathing machine, he could still feel them all over his body.

“I’ll let you have some privacy,” the nurse who’d escorted him back told him, smiling nicely and shutting the door as she left. Billy didn’t even thank her, because he wasn’t sure if he should. Even with his father confined to a hospital bed and too weak to move even if he wanted to, he couldn’t help but feel a little unsafe in a room alone with him. Still, he twisted the ring on his left hand, took a few deep breaths like his therapist had taught him, and approached his father.

“Hey, dad,” he said, still fiddling with his ring. He remembered the inscription inside of it and the man who wore the matching one, and that helped him relax a little.

“Billy?” His dad wheezed, his voice only coming out on a whisper. It was another thing that Billy took satisfaction in, the fact that, no matter how hard he tried, his dad would never be able to yell at him anymore.

“Yeah, it’s me. Not used to seeing me without a red mark on my face, huh?” Billy said, a sharp edge to his voice. He knew the man was dying and he knew that the comment was backhanded, but he didn’t care. He didn’t owe his dad anything, and especially not respect. Still, it made the knife in his heart twist a little when a look of guilty recognition came over his father’s face.

“I know it doesn’t mean much now,” his dad said, “But I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you.”

Billy couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous that statement was.

“No you’re not,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “And anyway, it wouldn’t even matter if you were, because I didn’t come here for that. I didn’t come here to forgive you or for your half-assed apologies so you could die with a clean conscience. I came here for me, because I deserve to be able to live knowing that at least if my father died thinking I was a disappointment, he was going to have all the facts straight, so shut the fuck up and listen.”

Billy’s heart was racing as he stood up a little straighter, squaring his shoulders to give off the illusion of confidence even if he wasn’t entirely sure he was feeling it.

“First of all, I’ve been doing great for the past 15 years, so thanks for asking,” he said, flexing his fingers. “As soon as I got out of Hawkins, I went to college. I applied to UCLA, Penn State, West Virginia and the University of Phoenix. I ended up getting into all of them, so I went to UCLA and got a degree in Marine Biology. I graduated with a Masters degree at 26, and I started working on my doctorate a year or so ago. I got a great job with amazing colleagues, and I’m making more money in a month than you would make in a year. 

“I got therapy as soon as I started making enough to afford it, and I’m not completely healed yet, no one ever is, but I’m a lot better off than I used to be. I was able to figure out why I was so angry all the time and why I couldn’t ever let anyone else in even if I wanted to, and eventually I learned how to stop being that way. Which, I’m glad I did, because if I hadn’t, I would’ve ruined one of the best things that ever happened to me before it even truly got started. 

“When I left Hawkins, I didn’t leave alone. My best friend in the entire world came with me, because he also wanted to get out from under his father’s thumb. Steve and I moved to California and lived out of a motel for a few weeks until he could get a job and save enough for us to afford a place. I had just started college and things were rough at first, but I was able to start therapy when Steve and I started fighting more and more. I was so afraid he was going to leave me behind and go off on his own, but he saw that I was putting forth an effort, so he stuck by my side. And every day I’m more grateful that he did, because once I was able to see my therapist for about a year, I had improved enough to finally be honest with myself and with him, and I came clean when he took me out to celebrate one year of being on our own. 

“He asked how therapy was going over dinner and I told him that I was doing good, and that I was finally gonna stop lying, and I told him that I was gay. And he just looked at me with these big soft eyes and a sympathetic little smile and told me that he was glad I told him, but he had already kind of figured that out. Then he told me that he didn’t care at all and that it didn’t change the way he viewed me at all, because he cared about me no matter what. And I knew he would probably react like that, because his best friend Robin is gay, and he’s known since the summer of ‘85, and they’re still practically attached at the hip to this day, but I was still worried. Then I told him that there was more, and I said that I had been falling in love with him from the first moment I met him, and it took me a while to be able to admit that to even myself, but now I had, and I wanted him to know, too. 

“And when he told me he felt the same way, I nearly fell out of my chair. I could’ve sworn he was straight and I told him as much, but he just shrugged and said that he didn’t love me for what kind of body I had, he loved me for the person I was and was continuing to become. And I cried right there in front of the entire restaurant, because I never thought that anyone could love me just because I’m me.”

Billy paused and took a breath. He was still close to crying, and his voice was getting wavery and thick, but he cleared it and took a deep breath, getting ready to continue on. He looked at his father for a moment before he did, and was met with a face of stone. He had no expression on whatsoever, so Billy just let out the breath he was holding and kept going.

“It was another year and a half of just being together before he finally asked me to marry him. It was on Halloween, because that was the first time we met 6 years prior, at a stupid Halloween party my junior year. I remembered that party, because the first time I met him, he was with his girlfriend at the time, and this asshole we had both been friends with at one point wanted me to go over and brag to him about being the new keg king, but as soon as I saw his face, I stopped dead in my tracks and I could barely speak. It was kind of awkward, because I couldn’t think of anything to say to him and when I was silent for a few seconds, he ran off after his girlfriend who had slipped away and that was that. And then later that evening, his girlfriend broke up with him, and he was sulking outside, so I finally got up the nerve to go talk to him. It wasn’t right away, but we became friends, and we’ve stuck together ever since. He told me that that’s why he picked that night to propose to me, and before he could even finish asking the question, I was already crying and saying yes. 

“I kissed him and he put the ring on my finger, but not before he showed me the inscription he had gotten on the inside of it. It said ‘Yeah I wanna marry you, don’t cream your pants’, because that’d been one of our inside jokes from the beginning, and he thought it would make me laugh. And it did, but not before I cried over it, because even though it was a stupid line, just the fact that he thought that much about it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me. We got married a few months later in a discreet little church somewhere in LA, and it was one of the best days of my life. My friends from college were there, Robin was Steve’s best man, and she’d even managed to get the word out to a few people back in Hawkins that we were getting married and surprised us by having them in the audience when we walked into the church. 

“Remember that road trip Max went on with her best friend El in 1990? Well, that’s where she was, a little hole-in-the-wall church in Southern California, watching her former babysitter and her older brother tie the knot. When I saw her in the front row in her light blue pant-suit, her hair up in a perfect ballerina bun on her head and smiling like the sun, I burst into tears. She looked so grown up, and I couldn’t even believe she was there. We hadn’t done a huge reception afterwards, but we did have a little something, and Steve and I were only really going to do the couple’s dance at first because his mom wasn’t going to make it and I didn’t have anyone to dance with either, but we did end up doing them. He danced with Robin and I danced with Max, and then we danced together, and neither one of us could keep it together. I can still remember the way Steve bawled when Max and all her friends made him take a picture with them, because he hadn’t seen them in a few years and when they were all gathered around him, he said he felt like no time had passed, even though it clearly had. Then Max and El pulled me into the picture, and Steve kissed me, and the kids all made faces like they were grossed out about it. That picture is still framed in our living room.”

Billy could hear his own voice getting more squeaky and uneven as he began to cry, but he made himself hold it together. He had to get through this, because goddammit, after everything his father had put him through, he was going to know damn well that it didn’t defeat Billy. He was going to have to listen to every good thing that’d happened to him and he was going to have to face up to the fact that no matter how hard he’d tried, he couldn’t break Billy down, at least not permanently.

“We were married for two years before Steve started to bring up the topic of starting a family. I had just gotten my Bachelor’s degree and was getting ready to start my Masters, but we had decided to get a little drunk as a celebration and he asked me if I ever thought about maybe having kids. I knew he always wanted kids, but I wasn’t so sure. I told him I used to want kids more than anything when I was little and Mom was still around, but once she left, I wasn’t so sure, so we decided to table the discussion for now and talk again when we were sober. He brought it up again at dinner two nights later, and told me he’d always dreamed of having six kids, three girls, three boys, and that he still wanted that, but only if I did, too. And I could never say no to him, especially not when he was giving me that look, so I said that maybe we could just start with one and see how it went. He lit up like a firefly when I said that, and immediately started looking into the different options. 

“It was hard, though. Most adoption agencies didn’t want to deal with us because we were both men, and finding a good surrogate took a lot of money that we just didn’t have at that point. It was killing me, both because Steve was so disappointed and because now that we’d finally talked and figured things out, I wanted a kid as much as he did. But then, just when all hope seemed lost, Robin paid us a visit and said that she might be able to help us. She was going to college at that point, too, and she knew a girl from one of her classes that was pregnant, but was thinking about terminating the pregnancy because she just didn’t want kids, she never had. She just wanted a career and to marry her boyfriend, and he felt the same, so she was weighing her options and thought aborting was the best way to go. 

“But then Robin stepped in and asked if she would consider having the baby and putting it up for adoption, and the girl, her name was Lindsay, said that if she were sure her baby would go to a good home she might consider it, but the foster care and adoption systems weren’t great and she didn’t want her baby to go through that. Robin told her about us and how we wanted to start a family, and Lindsay and her boyfriend agreed to meet us and see what they thought. They ended up liking us, and Lindsay said that she’d help us out. Steve and I were both over the moon about it, and over the next few months, we did everything we could to get ready for it. And finally, on a warm April afternoon, I got out of class to find Steve waiting for me, telling me that Lindsay had checked into the hospital a half hour before and that she was waiting for us. 

“It didn’t take too terribly long, only maybe five hours, but it felt like years had passed as we sat holding hands in the waiting room chairs. Neither of us moved from the moment they shooed us out of the delivery room until a nurse came out and told us that Lindsay was resting and our baby was being cleaned up and weighed. She told us on the way back to Lindsay’s room that the baby was perfectly healthy so far, and that they’d need to run some tests and give her her vaccines, but that she was okay so far. Steve was just relieved that she was okay, but then I turned to him and smiled and said, ‘did you hear what she said?’ And he didn’t get it at first, but then I said ‘she said she. We have a daughter,’ and Steve just stared at me. Then he started crying, and I had to hold him before we could go in and see Lindsay because he was crying so hard. 

“When he finally calmed down, we went inside and Lindsay hugged us both and we shook hands with her boyfriend and we talked for a little until a nurse came in wheeling a little bassinette. She asked who wanted to hold her first and Lindsay looked at us, and I let Steve hold her first because he’d wanted this for a lot longer than I had. He held her and he looked at her and he kissed her head and I swear I’ve never before felt anything like I had in that moment, because a minute ago I was a new father, but it was like an abstract concept, and then when I looked at Steve holding our daughter, looking at her like she’d hung the sun, the moon and every one of the stars, it was like a switch was flipped, and suddenly I was willing to jump in front of a train or off a cliff or get eaten by a shark if it meant the two of them, but especially my little girl, would be safe and happy. 

“And then, after a few minutes, Steve looked at me, and he asked if I wanted to hold her. And suddenly, I was stiff as a board and spacing out, because all that love and devotion I’d been feeling a second before were overshadowed and drowned out by this crippling, paralyzing fear. From what Steve’s told me, I went white as a sheet and started shaking like a leaf in the wind, and he said that all the life drained out of my eyes as I clenched my fists. He had to hand our baby to Lindsay for a minute, because he was worried about me, and he said he had to practically carry me to the little bathroom attached to the room so we could talk privately. He said in all that time, he didn’t even see me blink. I don’t remember much of this, I only remember him flicking water from the sink in my face to get me to come back to him, and he asked what’d happened.

“And then I remember I collapsed to the floor, and I didn’t cry, but I still shook like I’d gotten electrocuted. And when he sat down next to me and held my hand, I finally told him that it hadn’t quite felt real until that moment. But then he had tried to hand me the baby, and when I saw her tiny, fragile body and remembered that I was the one who was going to have to take care of her and keep her safe from then on, I just froze. I told him that I was afraid of her, which was stupid, right? Because she can’t do anything to me, she can barely even open her eyes yet, but yet she terrified me more than anything else in the world, because if she ends up fucked up, that’s our fault, and while I didn’t think Steve would be able to fuck her up, I definitely could. And he said that he didn’t believe that, and he said ‘you’re not going to turn out like your father’. And I swear to God, I almost socked him right in the face for that.

“But I didn’t, because somehow, without me saying a single word, he knew exactly why I was so fucking scared of someone who only weighed five and a half pounds. And once he said it, I was able to realize that that was what I was so scared of. I didn’t want to hold her because I was afraid I would get the urge to hit her for no reason. I was afraid I would start getting itchy because I couldn’t scream at her with other people in the room. I was afraid she would start to cry, and when I couldn’t get her under control, I’d just leave her for someone else to deal with, or even just to her own devices. I was afraid that if I would hold her and know that she’s mine, I would stop loving her and instead of seeing her as a blessing, I’d see her as a burden, and I wouldn’t want to take care of her. And I was horrified with myself for thinking that I would turn into you, but was even more horrified at the thought that I wouldn’t be able to control if I was or not. It scared me shitless that one day I might be sending my daughter to school with a black eye and fractured ribs because she forgot to put the dishes away before going to bed, or that she might not be able to take as much as I did and I might come home to find her limp body on the floor with a note telling me to go fuck myself, and I might not even care about it other than the fact that now I’d have to deal with what to do next.

“But for as scared as all those thoughts made me, I knew they were just that: intrusive thoughts. Because Steve had never lied to me once, never, in all the years I’d known him, and I knew that if he had a hunch about something, he was almost always right about it. And if he believed that I could be different, that I could be the dad I had always hoped for and wanted to be, then he was probably right about that, too. He told me that he knew from the look I got when I reiterated that we had a daughter out in the hall that I already loved her more than anything, and that I would never hurt her for anything in the whole wide world. Then he stood up, and he helped me up, too, and after helping me breathe more normally, he led me out of the bathroom.

“Lindsay smiled as we walked out and asked if everything was alright, and Steve told her it was just last minute anxiety, but that I was fine. And you know what, dad? I was. Because I knew that I was nothing like you, and that alone is what made me reach out and take our daughter from Lindsay’s arms, because I wanted to prove to myself that I was right.”

Billy was fully crying now, tears running down his cheeks in rivers, a constant flow that dripped from his chin and fell onto his jeans, his shoes, the floor. His nose was running a little bit and his throat was scratchy and his head was beginning to ache a little bit, but he didn’t care. He had come this far, and he was going to keep going until he’d said everything, aired every grievance he’d had to deal with and told him how he’d overcome them.

“Right after I picked her up, a nurse came in, holding a clipboard. She said that it was the birth certificate, and that everything was filled out except for our baby’s name. She looked at me, I guess because I was holding her, but I was too busy being happy that none of those terrible thoughts I’d had earlier were coming true and watching my daughter watch me to notice, so Steve said it. It’d taken us months to decide on what name we would go with depending on if it was a boy or a girl, but once we had them, we knew. I remember, in the early stages, when we would just toss names around, Steve had suggested something like ‘Lassie’ for a girl, and I almost smacked him upside the head. But then I was reading my textbook for class one night and saw one of the editor’s names, and I said to him, ‘what about Talia?’ And that was it. we decided that her middle name was going to be Ruth, after Steve’s grandmother, and it just had a nice ring to it.

“I remember when we got the official certificate a few days later, and I saw Talia Ruth Harrington written on paper for the first time. The way Steve tells it, I almost fainted, but I don’t remember that. All I remember is how the paper trembled, because when I held it, my hands were shaking. They did that every single time I held one of my kids’ birth certificates for the first time, and they’re going to do it again in a few months when our next baby is born. She’ll be number six, because Steve and I are both crazy, but me even more so, because I finally gave in and told him nothing would make me happier than to give him his dream family. And so far, I have.

“After Talia was born, I finished up my degree and started looking around for good jobs. I was open to anything, no matter where it was, and because our apartment was too small now that Talia was starting to grow more, we had to move anyway. We saved up as much as we could, and by the time Talia had turned one, we had a plan. I found a job at a small marine institute just outside of Ocean City, Maryland, and we decided to move there. We found a nice, three bedroom house about a ten minute walk from the beach for a reasonable price, and we bought it. We had only been moved in for about a month when Steve started teasing me about what we should do with the extra bedroom, and I knew what he was getting at, but I wanted to wait until we saved up a little bit more and until Talia was a little older. He agreed with me on that, and for another year, we did our best to raise our daughter and earn enough money to start thinking about another kid. Steve even got a job at a local daycare to help make ends meet and to make sure Talia was well cared for during the day while I was at work.

“And then, as luck would have it, just as we became financially stable and as Talia started to become more independent, we got our wish. Steve was opening up the daycare one day, and as he approached the door, he heard something from behind one of the fences. His coworker had just shown up, so he asked her to take Talia inside and he went to investigate, and the first thing he did when he found out what it was was open his cell phone and call me. He said he’d found a baby, no older than a month, wrapped in a blanket and just left there behind the fence with a note. It said ‘I can’t give my baby a good home, and I don’t know what to do. I figured someone here might. She’s healthy and has all her shots. Her birthday is August 5th, 1995.’ And that was it.

“Steve said that he was going to call the proper authorities, but he suggested that maybe we could take in the baby. He said we were thinking about it anyway and it couldn’t be a coincidence that another baby had just fallen into our laps like that, and I said that as long as it was a legal adoption, I’d be on board with it. It took a few months, a lot of money and entirely too much paperwork, but finally, we were given our second daughter. Because the mother had never named her, she had been dubbed Baby Doe by the court system up until that point, but once we were legally her parents, we got to name her. We went with Violet Frances Harrington, and then we were settled again for another few years.

“But Steve always wanted an even number of kids, and an even ratio of boys to girls, so once we got Violet settled and we were able to find a bigger house, we decided to go for baby number 3. It was 1997 at this point, and even though we were thinking about selling the old house before we had more kids, once again, fate stepped in. We hadn’t found a new place just yet, and we were toying around with the idea of either converting the attic or basement to a room or splitting the bigger of the girl’s bedrooms in half to make another when the adoption agency we went through called us. They said that they might have something for us, and asked if we wanted to come down and speak with them in person. We said we would, and the next day, we were sitting in an office when the lady who called us  walked in and handed us two pictures.

“She said that a few days ago, a mother came in and gave her two sons up for adoption. She was young, probably in college or even high school, but she said she just wasn’t ready to be a mother and she wanted her babies to have a good home. The lady said that she’d called the list of potential parents, but none of them really wanted twins, so she eventually got to us. She said we could take some time to talk about it if we wanted, and then she left the room, and as soon as she did, I looked at Steve. 

“I could tell from the smile on his face that he was already sold, and he told me that we should totally do it, because then it would even things up and we wouldn’t even need to get a new place or renovate ours, because then the girls could room together and the boys could take the other room. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was already in love with the boys, and I was too, so instead of answering him, I just went to the door and told the lady we’d be happy to take them in. She smiled and helped us fill out the necessary paperwork, and even though the boys already had names, she said we could change them if we wanted. We’d already had our hearts set on either Nathan or Gavin for our first boy, so we made those their first names, but we hadn’t decided on middle names yet, so we just gave them the names their mother had. And just like that, Nathan Jay Harrington and Gavin Anthony Harrington were joining our not-so-little-anymore family.

“After that, we were content for a while. I started thinking about getting my doctorate, Steve had moved up the ranks until he was practically running the daycare, and our kids continued to grow faster than we could keep up with. Before we knew it, Talia was starting school, Violet was learning to ride a bike, and the boys were curious about any and everything under the sun. Our house began to feel a little small, though, so we started looking around for a bigger place. We finally found one, a seaside mansion that was almost too much, but we made it work. I remember we told the kids Santa might not bring as many presents that year because he couldn’t make them fast enough. Really, Steve and I just couldn’t afford as many presents as we usually got them, but come Christmas morning, we had found a way to spoil them even though we barely had a dollar to our names. Anyway, the house was huge, and even though it only had four real bedrooms, the twins still wanted to share and there were a few extra rooms in the basement and main floor, so we figured if we had any more kids or the twins decided they wanted to separate, we could just use one of them. 

“And after we’d been in the house for about a year, Steve started getting baby fever again. This was the first time we’d ever tried looking into the foster care system instead of adoption agencies or surrogates. We were just looking around at that point, not really deciding anything, Steve was just antsy and looking for the hell of it, but then he asked me one night as we were going to bed if I would want to foster this little boy he’d found when he was just looking around for fun. He said that he was about a year old, could already walk, and was able to say simple words. He knew I was a little baby-d out at that point, so he said this time we wouldn’t have to start from scratch, we would just be picking up at an easier point. The twins were 4 by then, Violet was 6 and Talia was 8, so he said they could all start helping out around the house a little more and they would be able to help with the boy if we needed them to. And because I can’t say no to him and he did make a good point, I said I’d think about it. He obviously knew I meant yes, so a couple weeks later, we brought him home. We had only had him for about two days when Steve and the kids all practically begged me to adopt him.

“He already had a name, which was fine by us, because we didn’t really have anything in mind when Steve had started looking around, but I still got that same shaky, fluttery feeling when I first saw Leo Matthew Harrington printed on the birth certificate in my hands. All the kids had been with us that day when we went to the courthouse, and as soon as we showed them the piece of paper and told them that it meant Leo was officially their brother, they all started cheering at the top of their lungs. We got a dirty look from the receptionist, but Steve and I couldn’t help but laugh. Even Leo started squealing and shrieking with joy, and since it was a sunny Saturday in May, we took the kids to the boardwalk to get ice cream.”

Billy was still crying, but now he wiped his eyes and walked around the side of the bed, and sat in the chair at his father’s bedside after taking out his wallet. He opened it and thumbed through it, eventually finding what he was looking for and holding it up in front of his father’s face. It was a picture, taken just a few months ago, on the beach right outside their house. He couldn’t remember who had taken it, probably some couple or kid walking by, but he remembered how happy he was in that moment.

“This is my family,” he said, the tears coming back with twice as much force and his voice beginning to wobble even more. “The man sitting next to me is my husband. The little girl behind us with the black hair and beige colored skin and almond eyes is Talia. The little black girl sitting next to me with the heart shaped sunglasses is Violet. They’re my daughters.” He paused again, wiping his nose as his voice broke and he took a breath to steady himself. “The little boy next to Steve with the blue glasses and red hair is Leo, and the two blond boys on our laps are the twins. Nathan is on my lap and Gavin is on Steve’s, and I can tell them apart because Gavin only smiles with his teeth and Nathan only smiles with his lips. They’re my sons.”

His father lifted a shaky hand to try and take the picture, but Billy held it out of his reach. It was too precious to him to even think about letting his dad hold it, especially since he couldn’t really respond this whole time and he didn’t know if he would, like, rip it up or something. He didn’t want to risk it. It was too important to him. 

“In a few weeks, I’m going to get to hold my third baby girl. Her name is going to be Samantha Christie Harrington. From what we can guess, we assume she’s going to have pale skin and brown hair. We don’t know if her eyes are going to be blue or brown, or even hazel. We don’t know if she’s going to be born healthy, although we’re praying that she will, and we don’t know when her birthday is going to be or at what time she’ll be born. But we do know that the girls are ecstatic about getting a little sister, and the boys are excited for Aunt Max and Uncle Lucas to stay over with them while we’re at the hospital. We know that no matter what this child looks, acts, or is like, we’re going to love her just as much as we love all the rest of them. And we know that we’re ready and able to do that, because we’ve already done it five times before, no matter how scared we were or how tired or how uncertain we were.”

“Billy, I-” his father tried to get a word in, but Billy wasn’t having it. 

“No, you shut the fuck up, I’m not finished!” He bordered on yelling, but he made himself regain control. He slipped the picture back into his wallet and put it back into his pocket, just trying to busy himself until he could be sure he wasn’t going to lash out again. His father was silent the entire time.

“Listen, dad, I didn’t come here to yell. I didn’t come here to get angry or to get an apology or even an explanation, I’m past all that shit. I came here because I heard you were dying, and despite how much shit you put me through, I couldn’t make myself hate you enough to just ignore that. I also can’t make myself love you enough not to come and forgive you and let you meet your grandchildren and your son-in-law. And as much as it kills me, I can’t make myself stop loving you no matter how hard I try, and I fucking try. But you were the only one who stayed. When Mom split, when Grandma died, when Uncle Jerry went to prison. You could’ve tossed me out like yesterday’s garbage since there was no one else around to give a damn, but you stayed. You put food in my stomach and you kept clothes on my back and, I don’t know, maybe deep down inside you, you really were just trying to make me become a better person, and I can’t hate you for that. But somewhere along the way, your wires got crossed, and you took it too far. You had this... this rage inside you and for some reason, you thought the best person to take it out on was your pre-teen son. And then I guess something broke inside you, because it seemed like you started to actively look for things to justify one more punch, one more insult, one more punishment. First it was because I wasn’t into sports like you were and I couldn’t hit a baseball to save my life. Then it was because I was queer, and having a faggot for a son wasn’t “right”. Then it was because of the music I liked, or the jewelry, or the people I hung out with or the grades I had. Nothing was ever good enough for you, I was never good enough for you.”

Billy paused again. He needed to wrap this up. He hadn’t even packed an overnight bag, just a few things to keep him occupied on the plane rides there and back. So he sucked in another breath and he sat up straight, and for the first time since he’d gotten the phone call that his dad was dying, he felt the weight lifting off of his chest.

“But I don’t need to be good enough for you anymore, and I know that now. It took a long time and a lot of therapy, but I know it. Now I know that I’m good enough to be another person’s entire world, so much so that they put a ring on my finger to make sure I’d be with them until we’re old and gray. We have bad days, we’re not perfect, we fight, but at the end of the day I’m good enough to man up and tell him I’m sorry and I want to make things right because I love him. I’m good enough to sit on the boardwalk with my Violet and throw bread at seagulls, and I’m good enough to walk around looking for seashells with my Talia while she tells me about the really cute boy that smiled at her in class. I’m good enough to play dinosaurs with Nathan with one hand and color with Gavin in one of his coloring books with the other, and I’m good enough to sing Leo to sleep when nothing else will even make him doze. I’m good enough to make amends with the people I’ve hurt because I actually want to, and not just because I’m on my deathbed and I want a better chance at getting into Heaven. And I’m good enough to hold my Samantha for the first time and tell her how much I love her and mean it. And I did all that by myself, because I wanted to prove that I was better than you, and that I would always be better than you, because you made my life hell and I’m still dealing with the aftermath. Every day it’s a struggle, but I know that I’m going to come out on top, because the hard part is over. I’m already out of your clutches. And I’m not going to take that or anything that’s resulted from me getting away for granted, because it’s too important to me.”

Billy stood up, wiped away the last of his tears with his jacket, and cleared his throat again as he headed for the door. He opened it and was planning on just walking right out and not stopping until he was in a car and headed for the airport, but something made him stop. He stared out into the blinding white hallway of the hospital for a second, and finally turned one more time to face the man on the bed. He didn’t owe him anything. But he had already bared his heart and soul to him, what was two more words?

“Goodbye, Neil,” he said. 

And with that, he was gone.

*************************************************************

Billy had gotten home the same night he left, albeit very late at night. He was more tired than he had ever been before, and he wanted nothing more than a nice hot shower and to curl up beside Steve in bed. But after the day he’d had, he couldn’t just do that. Something was still tugging in his guts, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the way he’d left things with Neil or if it was because he hadn’t eaten anything that day except for the little snack packets the flight attendants had given him and a snickers bar from the hospital vending machine that was probably as old as some of the patients. Either way, he was too tired to deal with it, so he just went inside, got his hot shower, and put on his pajamas before crawling under the covers with Steve. He was lying on his side with his back to Billy, so he shifted until their bodies were perfectly in line and he wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling his face into Steve’s neck. He only sat up a little bit when he felt a smaller body on the other side of Steve, only to find Leo curled up against Steve’s chest.

“You gotta make me a recording of you singing for the next time you’re out of town,” Steve mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “This was the only way I could get him to even close his eyes.”

Billy’s heart melted in his chest as he said it, and it only turned further into goop when Steve turned his head and craned his neck to give him a kiss before snuggling back into the covers. And as Billy settled in with him, his arms around both his husband and his son, the tugging feeling in his gut finally stopped.

*************************************************************

Three days later, he got the phone call from the hospital that Neil was dead.

It’d been a busy Thursday morning in July, and while he and Steve were running around trying to get the kids up, dressed, fed and out the door for daycare, the phone rang. Billy was using one hand to wipe the maple syrup from Gavin’s face the the other to help Violet with her hair, and he couldn’t tell you what Steve was doing for a million dollars, so he didn’t even know the phone had been ringing until Talia walked over and handed it to him.

“It’s for you, daddy,” she said, then walked away to do whatever she’d been doing before. Billy had finally gotten the syrup of Gavin’s face and Violet was satisfied with her hair, so Billy stood up and took the cordless phone into a different room so he could hear better.

It was the nurses at the hospital. They said that they were sorry for his loss and that Neil had passed away that morning. They told him that he was the only one Neil had listed as next of kin, and that they would hold the body until arrangements could be made for his funeral. Then they offered their condolences and told him that he could call back at the number they gave whenever the arrangements had been made. Billy had gone on auto-pilot when he thanked them, and when he hung up, his chest felt hollow. He wasn’t happy or sad or angry or even relieved, no, he just felt numb.

He didn’t want to make the damn funeral arrangements. He didn’t want to have to explain to his kids that the man who’s body they were seeing being lowered into the ground was their grandfather, but they never met him because he hurt their daddy and would’ve probably hurt them, too if he’d ever been given the chance. He didn’t want his father to be dead, but he didn’t know if he was upset about it either. He was too confused and he didn’t know what to feel, but he still felt like he was about to burst with something, so he did the only thing he could think to do.

He took the handheld phone and hurled it at the wall as he let out a deep, animalistic howl of a yell, and crumbled to the floor with his head down and his shoulders hunched to try and keep it all under control. His ears were ringing, so he didn’t hear the six sets of footsteps running towards him from the kitchen until he felt one pair of arms wrap around him gently.

“Hey, Billy, what’s wrong? What happened?” Steve asked, tapping a beat on Billy’s shoulder to help him regulate his breathing, a trick he’d learned years ago and still remembered even though he rarely had to use it anymore.

“That was the hospital,” he said, choking out the words. “He’s dead, Stevie.”

“Who’s dead?” Nathan asked, his blue eyes big and round with questioning.

“Just... somebody that daddy used to know,” Steve said, hoping that that was the right answer. Billy would’ve told him if it wasn’t, but he didn’t say anything now, and neither Nathan nor any of their other kids questioned any further. Instead, they gathered around their father, all piling on top of him to give him kisses and hugs and tell him they loved him. Billy felt like a volcano, but only after the eruption, like his little outburst had been the hard part and now, with the help of his family, the magma was settling and the lava was cooling down into solid rock. He wrapped his arms around all of his kids in the most awkward group hug in the history of group hugs, but not one of them cared. It helped Billy to calm down, and that’s what was important.

*************************************************************

A week after the call from the hospital, the phone rang again, and again, Talia was the one to answer. The handheld had been pieced back together with Steve’s nimble hands and half a roll of masking tape, but it would do for now. Billy still felt bad for breaking the phone, but he’d stopped apologizing for it when Steve told him that if he did it again, he’d break it worse so that he would stop. It was a joke, obviously, but it worked, and Billy had stopped apologizing for it.

They hadn’t had a funeral. Not a real one, at least. Steve had taken the kids again and Billy headed out to Indianapolis again, having to stay overnight this time, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t felt much of anything since the call, and was kind of distant for a few days, but he hoped that once his dad’s body was in the ground and he was back home, he would be okay. He just needed time to process.

Steve and the kids were giving him all the time he needed, the kids making sure they were on their best behavior and Steve doing anything he could to make sure Billy was alright. He’d talked to his therapist and was able to work through it a little bit, but the things Steve and the kids were doing were helping, and he was grateful for it. 

He’d only stayed in Indianapolis for two days, one to pick out the casket and set things into motion, and the other to make sure they actually got him in the ground. He didn’t even wait for the headstone to be carved, instead just told them to make sure he got one and that would be that before heading for home once again. Steve and the kids had all run up to him to hug him as soon as he stepped in the door, and, per his request, they all sat on the beach that night and fed the seagulls as they watched the sunset. None of them spoke much, they just sat, but they were all perfectly okay with that. And the next day, Billy started to act like himself again, a little at a time.

Now, he was almost completely back to normal. His head still felt a little heavy, but it was mostly gone, and he didn’t even think twice when Talia handed him the phone and said, “It’s for you, daddy.”

It was the hospital again, but this time, it was much closer to home. Georgia, the lady who was carrying their baby, had just gone into labor and had  checked into the hospital. Billy nearly threw the phone again in his rush to get to Steve and tell him the news.

Samantha had decided that she was going to come out a week early, so Billy and Steve had to wrangle five children into their mini-van by themselves as Billy called Max. She and Lucas lived in Pennsylvania, so they were going to be a little while, but Max said she was already leaving work and that they’d be there as soon as they could to get the kids. Billy thanked her and told her which hospital they were going to, then hung up as Steve drove through the town. 

When they got there, Steve went to check on Georgia, and Billy stayed in the waiting room with the kids. It was just beginning to get dark out, Leo should’ve already been in bed, but Billy was too jittery to worry about that now. An hour and a half later, Max and Lucas showed up, both hugging him and Steve and saying congratulations before swapping keys with Steve and taking the kids back to the van to head back home. Steve walked them to the elevator and then returned to Billy’s side, holding his hand like he always did and pretending he wasn’t just as nervous until a few hours later, when the nurse finally came out and told them to follow her. 

Georgia was asleep by the time they got into the room, but her husband was awake, still holding her hand. He used his other one to shake with Billy and Steve and congratulate them, and finally, the nurse came in with Samantha. 

At this point, it was tradition to let Steve hold her first. She was asleep, or at least she looked it, as Steve picked her up, but as soon as he put his hand underneath her head, her eyes opened up and she began to cry. Steve tried to soothe her, but nothing seemed to work, and her little face got red as she continued to scream. It woke Georgia up and she tried to calm her down, but even she couldn’t do anything to quiet the baby. 

But this girl had a set of pipes on her, and finally, she had screamed so loud and so long that it was almost excruciating to listen to. Steve took her back from Georgia and tried again, but it was useless, and he sighed.

“Here, Bill, you try and calm her down. Nothing we’re doing seems to be working,” he said, and handed Samantha off to Billy. 

As soon as he had her tiny body cradled in his arms, the baby stopped crying. It was almost instantaneous, and even though her face was still a little red and blotchy, she blinked her big eyes up at him and smiled. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Steve smiled, wrapping his arm around Billy’s waist. “Glad to know she’s already chosen her favorite parent.”

Billy wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t think about much of anything else at the moment except his daughter’s big, dark eyes boring into his. He smiled at her and rubbed her belly with his finger, making her gurgle and coo in response. She took her own tiny hand and raised it just enough to grab onto Billy’s finger, holding it with an iron grip. Or, at least the newborn equivalent of an iron grip. 

She continued to stare into his eyes and hold onto him for a long time, but after a while, her grip weakened and her eyes slipped closed. As she fell asleep in Billy’s arms, Steve came back over from making small talk with Georgia and her husband. Georgia was exhausted, and frankly, so was her husband, and they had begun to fall asleep again as well, leaving Billy and Steve as the only ones awake. Billy was still just staring at Samantha, though, and only noticed Steve by his side when he nudged him lightly with his shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping his arm around him and playing with the hair on the back of his neck. “You doing okay?”

And when Billy thought about it, he found that he really, really was.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I’ve never been more okay in my entire life.”

[from-izzy]

https://www.tumblr.com/from-izzy/741244952356519936/0321-tbz-kim-sunwoo?source=share

you wrote here how hard work didnt betry you. Do you mind telling me your side of the story. i love your stories btw! life has been pretty hard and not a lot of writers write smth thats reltable like yours!

hello hello!! thank you for telling me your thoughts about my stories, i appreciate this so much 🥰 ahhhh...i hope things will get better for you soon 🫂 keep pushing on!!

warnings: mentions of academic struggles, anxiety, panic (sorry this became a rant (and a self-reflection) more than anything tbh...)

so for my uni degree, the first three years is guaranteed in a way that there is no competition. anyone can do the first three years. however, fourth year is the hardest part. a lot of people say to get into fourth year, you basically need to score about 80% to even be considered for fourth year and even then, there's no guarantee. so, this bummed me out so bad. i remember going to uni thinking if this is right for me because if it isn't, then wouldn't i have just spent my first three years for nothing? i just didn't know how i would feel like if i reached the end of third year and then realised that i didn't get into fourth year. i also remember looking for other postgraduate courses i could apply to because my confidence was so low and in my head, i just had to prepare for everything.

i had a backup plan for my backup plan that was a backup plan for my first backup plan.

but the thing that changed me were: am i giving up when nothing has started? even when this has been my dream job for the past four years (at the time)? i even moved high schools so that my chances to get into university was higher, and now that i'm here, i'm going to give up now? after all the things i've been through, am i going to stop just because i'm scared of something that i can somewhat control?

i kept going then. then i heard about this degree that guarantees students to get into fourth year as long as i reach their minimum mark. i only knew about this degree mid year and i asked how i could move and they said i have to be invited 😭 the requirements was high. the lecturer said to aim for a 90-95% average in all my units. now, i want to dream big but at the time, i was sitting on an 86% and i knew i wouldn't get 90% (or at least not easily and i was not prepared to sacrifice my mental health for this) 😭 i remember accepting that i was just meant to compete for fourth year and i just kept going. kept studying as i did before.

and then at the end of first year, i got an offer to move. and i thought "...oh." AND I REMEMBER I WAS ABOUT TO REJECT IT 😭 BECAUSE THE 'TRADEOFF' WAS BIG (ie. compulsory units, study abroad (as mentioned in the fic!!) etc.) and like i mentioned before, i had backup plans and i think admist my panicking and anxiety, i fell in love with the jobs that the backup plans could offer me. but then my friends and family reminded the past me that would love this more than anything and with their support, even if maybe i don't want to go to this specific fourth year in this major, the title of my new bachelor degree is really good as it mixes theory, research and job experiences in the real world in an undergraduate degree.

so, i ended up accepting it and...i don't want this to seem like "yay! my life is great now! woohoo!!" because these compulsory units are hard 😭 and i honestly have moments when i just want to contact the office and be like "hey! respectfully and kindly, transfer me back please!!"

another thing about this is that, now that i'm accepted in this, i'm scared of failing even more now. i think it'll hurt me a lot and it'll take a big hit on me if i do considering that i feel like i sacrificed a lot.

but hey...if i do my best, what else can i do at that point? what regrets will i have if i tried my very hardest? i don't know what the future holds for me. i could fail. i could pass. but what i DO know is that i don't know. and because of that, i'll keep doing my best.

but this is my story 🫂 it seems kind of made up now that i read it and people can believe that if they want to 😅 but this is me and my story!! i hope you're doing well anon! you can do this!! 🥹

[stormy333]

Cheers To Eighteen

🄲🄷🄰🄿🅃🄴🅁 🄴🄸🄶🄷🅃🄴🄴🄽

Originally I thought I was way off with my goals for Chapter 17 while I was thinking of what to write for chapter 18’s post…

Turns out I’m not

Lemme explain.  The post https://thechronicalesofhails.com/blog/f/one-story-billions-of-possibilities had 17 things learned and 17 goals most of my goals were emotional. Here let’s do a quick recap of the goals;

17 Goals for this chapter

1. To have my GED either completed or half completed

2. To continue the process of eliminating toxicity from my life

3. I want to get a job

4. I want to travel more

5. I’m going to get to know myself better, instead of dating others, I’m going to try a bit of self dating, pouring my heart and soul into myself instead of someone else, that’s not to say I won’t help it’s just saying I need to help myself for a while.

6. I’m going to find new hobbies, I actually have a few in mind

7. To find who I am, I know who I was and I know who I want to be but who I am is still a question

8. To keep up with my physical therapy and infusions better, I want to be more organized in life

9. Learn to drive a standard

10. Being more open about my thoughts

11. Being more assertive

12. Forgiving things and people

13. Learning to love people as they are

14. Being confident as myself

15. Learn a language

16. Branch out a bit more in my exploration of life

17. Discover more things I love

Ninety percent of these things I have held true to continually working on day by day. My GED will be taken care of soon, by the time you all see this I will likely have already applied for my job, driving a standard is still something I very much want to do but now my truck needs my focus so I can get my license. Toxicity is something that has to be weeded out like your garden but you also have to realize how toxic you can be as well. A hard lesson to learn but a lesson nonetheless. As for the physical therapy and infusions well I lost my port so no more infusions but still have to keep up with PT.

I have learned so much about myself during chapter 17. For instance I’ve mentioned that growing up I was heavily involved in church plus I personally had a strong relationship with God. Then around the time I got sick my relationship started to waver and struggle. Recently I realized that was because it was something that came natural to me in the beginning of my life, then it did not. which is exactly why it has been so difficult for me to find my footing again.

Who I am is no longer a question. I am Hailey sometimes Hails, beautiful but not vain. Confident but not cocky. Chronically Ill but still human. Hurting but healing. No matter what I am on the right track to being the woman I want to be even on the days I want to just give up. Most of all I am proud because my body has not given up on me yet and I have not given up on it yet either and that is only by the grace of God. Still though it makes me proud to know I have made it to chapter eighteen.

I have made a lot of changes in my life during chapter 17.  Some were harder and took longer and didn’t just affect me but they were my choice to make and you live and you learn. So here I am about to start chapter eighteen and I am a mess but I am actually for the first time in a long time somewhat at peace, because I have finally begun to let go I guess? I wish I could express fully what this feeling is but it is like everything might be falling apart but I’m like chill with it? I have no idea what that is but that is what I feel. Of course I still have days when I’m not okay that’s life with chronic illness, mental illness and of course just plain life but for the most part.

If you made it this far congratulations because you are amazing and loyal and bless your heart. As for chapter 18 I’m not sure what is in store besides good lord’s will getting a job and my license and being better organized at blogging. It all finally seems to make a bit of sense and going back to the basics really helped me, I stripped a lot of who I was pretending to be away and in that I had to say goodbye to quite a few people but it was for the better, as I wish them all the best. I just needed to strip it down and find myself again and the little girl who saw no wrong in the world well she grew up and parts of her burned but a phoenix rises from the ashes right? I am who I am today because of my past and my illness. You know the saying Rome wasn’t built in a day? Neither are strong durable people. It takes your past, your illness, your friends, and family; it takes all of that to build your character for your story. Don’t hate it, embrace it.

Cheers to 18!!!

[starsunited]

Star Wars Roleplay Partners Search!

Hello All!

I am currently looking for some Roleplay Partners!

If I already have an RP with you or have a message chain with you, please ping me and let me know! If its better, ask for my Discord, or I will ask for yours

Additional side note, I will probably ask that the RP go to Discord unless asked otherwise or wanting to keep the RP here on Tumblr. Discord will actually send me notification and is easier to manage (personally). So don't fret if I ask! Just let me know if it's fine or not and we can go from there! 🙂

NOW! A few ground rules below:

Must be Semi-lit or above (I am anywhere between semi-let to novella depending on my partner)

No use of the following: *, >, -, ext. This is very illiterate for me and takes me out of the RP if these are used for describing actions

Must be able to consistently give at LEAST a paragraphs worth of writing (5+ lines. Full sentences.)

Must be fine with BxB, GxG, NBxNB and any other pairings that are not just BxG (especially if romance is involved)

The above will not apply if doing a DOUBLE UP. I am fine with BxG so long as a double up RP is the kind of RP we are going to be doing

If you have triggers, topics to avoid, or so on let me know so they can be addressed ASAP and we can both know what to avoid. (I myself don't have any but I want to be courteous to my partners/friends and others!)

The Request:

I am looking for someone who is up for a Double Up! Ideally I would like to play as my OC(s) if possible with an OCxCC type of roleplay (and I would pay the CC for your OC as well of course, or for your side we can do a CCxCC pairing as well! I just want to make things even). I am also open to the rare but welcome OCxOC, just note I am a bit picky when it comes to OC’s being paired together, as I would want it to fit and work out.

Also, another note, if anything is to be mature please be 18+ before even mentioning it to me or asking about it. While I am fine with it, I just want to be sure we are all on the same page on the matter and know what our limits are as well as triggers when it comes to the topic.

Here are the CC Characters I am looking for:

Anakin/Vader

Kylo Ren

Armitage Hux

Din Djarin

The Bad Batch ( Any / All)

Clones in general (Rex, Cody, Mayday and others! Just ask!)

Ezra

Starkiller (Force Unleashed)

Boba Fett

Jango Fett

Ahsoka

Bo-Katan

Quinlan Voss

Hemlock

And open to many more! (OC's are also welcomed!)

Characters I play as:

Almost everyone. You name them and I have probably played them in some capacity or another. Just let me know who you are wanting and I will let you know if I can play them or not (I am pretty confident in myself in doing so but you may throw me a curve ball!).

I hope this has interested some of you! If so, reach out to me through a DM or in the comments below and I will get back to you as soon as possible! As I do work a full time job and also have to care for myself, so please keep that in mind! 

And if you are ever unhappy with the RP or want a change or switch or anything, just let me know! I'm SUPER flexible when it comes to changing things up, so just let me know (when out of character/OOC just used ((, or // to show that!)

If you have read everything (which thank you) just send me the phrase ‘Batch 99!’ That way I know and we can get a conversation flowing! Bring ideas to the table and what you're looking for and I will do the same!

Thanks so much and I look forward to speaking with you all!

May the force be with you!

[miekasa]

Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it. 

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby. 

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad. 

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on. 

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying. 

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside. 

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place. 

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone). 

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way. 

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for. 

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch. 

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés. 

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this. 

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it. 

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well. 

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program. 

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do. 

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk. 

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes. 

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to. 

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye). 

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester. 

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other. 

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand. 

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right. 

[svenotes]

stay with me | jjk

❝ maybe staying another night at your boyfriend’s isn’t such a bad idea ❞

[ PAIRING ] : jeon jungkook x reader

[ GENRE ] : established relationship au + smut and a smudge of fluff

[ WORD COUNT ] : 6k

[ WARNINGS ] : oral sex, some real good tongue technology on jungkook’s part, fingering, overstimulation, penetrative sex, creampie, LOTS AND LOTS of dirty talk, jk calls oc ‘baby’ and ‘pretty girl’ way too many times, oc worried that her bf is going to get tired of her, some mentions of anxiety, jk is the sweetest bf and even sweeter at sex, there is barely any plot and just a lot of sex im so sorry 

[ AUTHOR’S NOTE ] : i'm on my period and i got horny and then this happened

masterlist | wattpad cross post | ao3 cross post

“No.”

Jungkook shuffles behind you, the bed moaning. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

You shake your head, failing to suppress your smile as you slip on your thong. However, it does little to hide you from him. Glancing at the mirror, you see him shamelessly stare at your ass, licking his lips before he meets your gaze through the glass with a boyish grin.

You turn around to face him. “You’re going to ask me to stay.”

Jungkook hums, eyes dancing across your bare skin, darkening. Heat rushes to your cheeks as he admires you, confidence swelling in your chest and you take a moment to admire him. He sits at the edge of the bed, naked and yours, white, silk sheets pooled around his lower abdomen.

Your eyes trace over his rigid muscles, and your fingers itch to touch him. Even under the dim light, he is beautiful with his dishevelled hair and swollen lips. You finally meet his gaze and swear your knees almost give out. Heat pools in your stomach when you see the hunger in his gaze, breath hitching in your throat. Your thighs press together reflexively and it doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Wrong.” Jungkook pulls you at you until you're straddling him. He cranes his neck to press butterfly kisses along your jaw. “I was going to ask you to not leave.”

“Baby.” You thread your fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands. “That means the same thing.”

“Don't care,” he hums, pressing a firm kiss against your lips. “Don’t go.”

His plea tugs at the strings of your heart. It’s hard to say deny him. It’s especially hard to deny him with his dick hard, prodding against your thigh and his lips coercing you to stay cocooned under the sheets with him. However, the anxiety that builds in your chest is overwhelming and the thoughts that kept you up the night before still linger.

“Jungkook.”

“Unless you’re telling me you're staying, I don’t want to hear it.”

You giggle, leaning down for a sweet kiss. Minutes pass by before you pull away with a burn in your lungs and clouded mind. He chases after your lips, but you tilt your head for his lips to press against the corner of your lips, to his reluctance.

“Baby,” you start, “I need to go home and get new clothes. I’ve spent the entire weekend here and now I have nothing to wear.”

“I like you naked, anyway.” He grins as you slap his chest, failing to bite back your smile. “You can wear my clothes.”

“I have no underwear left.”

“I have a laundry machine.” He traces every curve of your spine, sending shivers down your back. “You’ll have clean clothes tomorrow.”

You brush the long strands of his hair from of his face. “I could grab some new clothes and come back tomorrow.”

“It’s going to be dark soon,” he reasons, unhooking your bra with two fingers and you cock a brow. “Leave in the morning — after breakfast. Dangerous people come out at night, y’know? I don’t want anything bad happening to you.”

“You would’ve won me over with that one if you didn’t unhook my bra,” you remark, pinning him with a look.

“Really? Wait, lemme redo that—!” You let out a heartfelt laugh, throwing your head back and he grins. “Seriously, don't go. I don’t want you walking outside late at night.”

“The sun’s only about to set, I can get home before it gets too dark.”

Jungkook’s brows pinch together, lips curling downwards. “You’re trying so hard to leave. Why?”

Your heart misses a beat and you pray he doesn’t notice the hesitation in your eyes as anxiety swells in your chest. Your worries flood your mind as a reminder as why you must leave.

“You're going to get sick of me if I don't give you some space.”

“I could never get sick of you,” he retorts, holding you closer with a shake of his head. “And I don't need space from you. Wanna keep you in my arms forever.”

Your gaze softens on him and his cheeks are coloured pink. “Kook.”

“I don’t want you to leave — not tonight.” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. “Want you to stay with me.”

You indulge in the idea; one more night. You could stay one more night. You could. However, the fear in your chest does not allow for it. You’re scared — worried if he spends every waking moment with you he’ll soon get tired of you. Perhaps it’s a stupid thought considering you’ve been dating for over a year now, but the dread still lingers. No matter how much you reason with it, it haunts your thoughts — keeps you awake in the middle of the night even as he rests in your embrace.

He drags you from your reverie, pressing a kiss against the sweet spot under your ear and you let him have his way for now.

“Don’t go,” he says again in a whisper, pleading with his eyes. “Please. I want you to stay.”

Before you can answer he leans down to press his lips against yours. His lips meld with your own in a fervent kiss, his hand trailing down your body and tracing the curve of your ass, as he presses himself against your core. You roll your hips against him as the kiss becomes more sloppy and desperate with every press of him against you. Waves of pleasure shoot down to your core, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Jungkook,” you moan.

His lips trail down the underside of your jaw, pressing a wet kiss against your pulse. A coil of desire begins to tighten at every nudge of his shaft against your nerves, nails digging into the skin on his back in response.

“Ngh — Jungkook, please,” you urge as presses his hips against yours, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves.

“Please, what, baby,” he hums, smirking against your skin. “Use your words.”

“Touch me. Please, ah,” you moan, throwing your head back against the pillow. “Need you to touch me.”

He throws your unhooked bra to the side. Bringing a hand to wrap around your breast, he squeezes it adoring how soft and pliant you are under his touch. You arch your back as his tongue flicks against your perked nipple.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his warm breath fanning across the pebbled bud on your breast. “Thought you had to go, hm?”

“Jungkook—!”

“I won’t stop until I’m satisfied,” he says, hoarse, searching your eyes for an answer. “I won’t let you go until you’re begging me to stop. Do you want that?” He rolls grinds his cock against your core, groaning. “Won't stop ’til I feel your hot, tight pussy milk me for every last drop. Ah, wanna feel you fall apart on my cock, see you all pretty and full of my cum, hear you beg for more and more until you break.”

You gasp at his vulgar words, the hot, white coil tightening in your stomach. You wish so badly for him to be inside of you when you clench around nothing. His lips wrap around your perked nipple, licking and biting you, eliciting the sweetest of moans from your lips as his tongue swirls around your bud.

Your thread your fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands at the nape of his neck how he likes it. He moans against you as you continue to experimentally roll your hips against him, desperate for some friction — for him.

“Do you want that, too, baby?” He asks, leaving a trail of kisses up the valley between your breasts. “Means you can’t go home though. You’ll miss your train if you let me do the things I want.”

“Are you sure you’re not going to get tired of seeing me every day?”

You try to laugh, but your voice comes out strained and full of worry. It doesn't sound like a joke as you hoped, voice shaking as you ask your question. Your heart thunders in your chest and you wonder if he can hear it.

Jungkook stills, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He pulls back to look at you, brows furrowed and eyes full of confusion.

“You think I’m getting tired of you?”

You look away from his piercing gaze and he doesn’t like it. Taking your face in his hands, he urges you to meet his eyes and you find yourself meeting his concerned gaze.

“Talk to me,” he says, softly.

You take a deep breath, eyes flickering to your hands resting against his chest. Mustering the courage to open up, you meet his gaze again as he patiently waits for your response, a thumb rubbing soothingly against the soft skin of your cheek.

“I—I’m scared that you're going to realize I’m not as great as you think I am,” you begin softly, voice shaking. “I’m worried if you spend too much time with me you'll get sick of me. I’m scared you’re going to get tired of me and leave me.” You pause, noticing the bewildered expression on his face. “I wanted to leave so I could give you space in case you wanted it. I didn’t — I don’t want to suffocate you.”

He’s silent for a long moment and you know it’s because he’s collecting his thoughts. However, a part of you still worries. You worry it's because he realizes he has grown tired of your presence. You worry he realizes that you have too much emotional baggage and doesn’t want to deal with it. You worry because you have a hard time accepting someone’s love.

“I haven’t done a good job at being your boyfriend,” he starts and your eyes widen, “if you’re thinking I’m going to get sick of you.”

“No,” you reply immediately, cupping his face. “It's not you. It’s my insecurities — my anxiety. You’re more than perfect. You say and do all the right things, Kook. I just… I’m scared one day you’re going to get tired of me — tired of constantly reassuring me, sick of having me around all the time and clinging to you.”

You’ve talked to Jungkook about it before. He knows about the thoughts that keep you up at night — the worries that gnaw at you until you’re in tears. He knows and he stays. He tries to help you in every way he possibly can. He holds you when you need it, whispers reassuring words, comforts you no matter when or where. He’s there for you in every possible way because he loves you.

But sometimes your anxiety gets the best of you — especially when it comes to him.

“Baby,” he starts and it’s hard to meet his eyes, “I will never get tired of you. I will never get sick of you.”

“You don’t know that—!”

He cuts you off, “But I do. I know because I can’t get enough of you. I don’t think I ever will. Every moment you’re not with me all I want is you. All I can ever think about is you. You drive me crazy and you don’t even know it. All I ever want is you beside me, in my arms, in my house with me. I always want you right beside me — right where you belong.” A pause. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you, too.” Your response is almost immediate and he smiles, leaning to press a soft kiss against your lips.

“Do you know how much I love your laugh?” You’re silent. “Do you know how much I love making you smile; how much I love waking up beside you and falling asleep with you in my arms. How much I adore your victory dances when you win games and your snoring—!”

“Hey!” You complain, but there’s a smile curling on your lips to match his.

“I love you so much — every single part of you — I couldn’t possibly ever get sick you. I love you so much I don't ever want to let you go.”

Hesitantly, you look at him and let the sincerity of his words sink in. His eyes are full of adoration for you and your heart is enveloped by a sudden warmth only he can elicit in you. Lifting your hand between your bodies and extend your pink finger to him.

“Promise?”

He doesn't hesitate to wrap his small finger around yours before sealing the promise with a sweet kiss. “Promise.”

“Okay,” you say, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I wasn’t being too clingy this weekend? I wasn’t bothering you or being annoish—!”

“I’m going to stop you before you say more things I don’t like.” He smothers your face in his hands, eyes narrowed. “Remember, I wanted you here this weekend, too. And I want you to spend another night because I love you and I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”

“Okay,” you murmur, shyly. “I’ll stay the night.”

“Good. I want my pretty girl beside me,” he chuckles under his breath, tucking a loose curl behind your ear. You notice his eyes grow softer, an emotion you cannot decipher hidden behind the awestruck in his eyes that leaves butterflies in its wake. “Move in with me.”

You blink. “What?”

“I—!" His eyes are wide as if he didn’t expect himself to say the word himself. His eyes flicker downwards before they meet yours again with purpose. “I want you to move in with me.” A deep breath. “My apartments too big for just one person and I miss you whenever you’re gone. You spend more time here than you do at your own place anyway. Move in with me.”

You search eyes and all you're met with is sincerity. “Are you sure?”

“Yea,” his smile is soft but it makes your heart swell. “Yea, I'm sure. I’m tired of waking up every morning and not having you beside me.”

“Moving in?” You ask, uncertainly.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but I wasn’t sure if you were ready. And you don’t have to give me an answer tonight or tomorrow. I want you to think about it and if you’re not ready, that’s okay because I’ll wait for you. You’re worth the wait.”

“Kook—!"

“I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, ___.” Your eyes widen at the declaration and his cheeks are coloured pink despite the bright smile on his lips. “I know we’re not there yet, but I want you every single day for the rest of my life. So while I wait for you to be my wife, I want to move in with you.”

Jungkook momentarily stills before he realizes the soft pressure against his lips is your own, smiling into the kiss as he closes his eyes. He kisses you tenderly and sweet, but there is desperation behind them. You’ve kissed Jungkook thousands of times but he still makes your head dizzy as he slips his tongue between the seams of your lips. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, your fingers tangled in his hair and his own pulling you closer towards him.

He pulls back first, a string of saliva connecting you before he places another firm kiss against your lips. “Was that a yes?”

“Yea,” you breathe, grinning. “Yea, it was.”

He flips you onto the bed with practiced ease, your back hitting the mattress as he hovers over you. You giggle as he places butterfly kisses all over your neck and shoulder.

“I love you so much,” he breathes, face hidden in the crook of your neck. “My pretty, pretty girl.”

“Jungkook.”

“Yes.”

“I want to cum.”

He laughs, pulling away. “Shameless, too.”

He leaves a trail of kisses down your body until he’s a hair's breadth from your cunt. His fingers brush against your closed slit, arousal leaking through the flimsy material as he presses against your core. Your breathing becomes erratic when he presses a kiss against your clothed lips.

“Baby — fuck.” Your eyes roll back as he drags his tongue to your clit, the friction from the fabric on your nerves driving you crazy. “St-stop, agh, teasing.”

“You’re not in the position to make rules, baby,” he says, rubbing against your clothed clit. “I’m going to take my time with you — have you begging for me to taste your cunt. And when you do, I’ll use my tongue to lick every little drop of sweetness from your pussy. Make you come on my mouth over and over until you’re begging me to stop.”

You whine, “Please.”

He teases you, moving your underwear aside just enough to lick a long stripe from your pussy to your clit. Groaning, he meets your eyes as your underwear slides back in place.

“You taste so good, baby,” he purrs, pressing a kiss against your thigh. “And you're so fucking wet. Bet I could slide right into you.” His fingers are back on you, brushing against your clit but not enough to do anything. “You want me, baby?”

Your arch your back in response to his next ministration. “Yes.”

His touch is gone just like that and you whine, brows furrowed in frustration. He snaps the waistband of your thong against your skin with a smirk.

“Beg.”

“Jungkook—!”

You’re about to complain, but he cuts you off. “Beg or I’ll fuck myself using that pretty mouth and leave you dry. Tell me, baby, how bad do you want me?”

“Please, baby, I need you.” Your hooded eyes meet his heated gaze. “Need your fingers, mouth, cock — you. I need you so bad. Wanna feel you so bad, please.”

“Could be better,” he muses before he presses a kiss against your clothed core. “But I’m impatient.” He taps your hips. “Up.”

Helping you out of your underwear, he brings his face towards your core, blowing against your opening. His nose brushes against your thigh as he places another kiss against the soft skin, hooking your legs over his shoulder.

“You’re soaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

You hum, contentedly when his tongue brushes against your slit. “All for you.”

“My pretty girl,” he rasps, nose brushing against clit. “So wet and needy for me.”

Before you can complain again you feel his hot, wet tongue press harshly against your lips before he drags it up to your clit. He swirls the rosy muscle on your clit, teasingly until your moaning and breathless. Without warning, his lips envelop around your throbbing bud, sucking in full force you scream his name as your hips buck. Warm hands hold your waist down as he hums, tongue licking against your entrance again. For a moment he dips inside you, moaning at the taste of your sweetness before going back to suck at your clit the way you love it and you see stars behind your lids.

He repeats the motion over and over, swirling his warm tongue around your swollen bud and sucking it in a way that has you forgetting your own name. Against your slick lips, he whispers praises, before he slips two fingers into your warm cavern and curling his fingers inside you.

“O-oh, fuck—!” you gasp, fingers tangled in his hair. “Don — mmngh — don’t stop, ngh.”

“Gotchu,” he grins when he finds your sweet spot. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“S-so good.” Your nails scrape against his scalp and he emits a low groan. “So fucking good, fuck.”

His fingers continue their onslaught at a new pace, brushing roughly against the spot that leaves you breathless. His lips are back on your clit like a hot suction and you scream out from the overwhelming pleasure.

“So fucking tight,” he muses, pressing a kiss against your bud. “Your pretty cunt's taking my fingers so well, baby. You sound so pretty while I fuck you with my fingers, but you sound prettier when you cum, you know that?”

Your head is spinning from euphoria, ecstasy and the lack of oxygen, but it doesn't matter — not when he's bringing you closer and closer to your release.

“Mngh — J-Jungkook!” He sets a new violent pace that leaves you overwhelmed as he hits your sweet spot. His name falling out your lips like a broken record while he licks at your juices, groaning against your cunt when you fist his hair and pull him closer to you. An electrifying coil in your lower abdomen tightens, building further when his ministrations bring you closer and closer to your peak. You clench around his fingers, bucking your hips further into his hand, whimpering as you say, “God, yes — ngh, fuck. I’m so close.”

“Cum for me.”

Euphoric pleasure slowly, yet surely floods through your body, his lips enveloped around your sensitive bud as he curls his fingers against your soft spot. With one last flick of his tongue, you fall off the euphoric cliff as he laps at your juices. He presses harsh, but sure circles against your clit with his thumb as you ride out your orgasm. Your hip spams, thighs trembling as he coaxes you through an indescribable, mind-blowing release that leaves your vision white.

His lips don’t leave your nether regions, wincing at the oversensitivity. You tug at his strands of hair but he shakes his head.

“Not done with you yet,” he whispers, licking the fruits of his efforts once his fingers slip out of your dripping cunt. “Wanna have you crying my name. Wanna show you how much I love you. Will you let me?”

You lift your head from the pillow, leaning on your elbows as you sit up. He holds your stare, smirking before he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit to your sensitive bud and you shudder. His grip on your thighs tightens to keep you in place before he lowers his head between your thighs, the hot suction back on your clit.

“Agh, Kookie.” You throw your head back, chest heaving. “I’m too—” Gasp. “—sensitive.”

“You can take it.” A kiss against your nether lips. “Wanna show you how much I want you — how much I love the taste of you. I’m not letting you go until you’re begging me to stop. You up for that? Want me to remind you how good I can make you feel?” He dips his tongue back in you and you hiss. “Can you be my pretty, little slut, baby, hm? You wanna make me happy, don’t you?”

“Y-yea.”

You feel him smile against your thigh. “Who does this pretty pussy belong to?”

“You.”

“That’s right.” A rewarding stroke his tongue. “This pussy belongs to me. You’re mine. This pussy is mine. Will you let me play with this pretty cunt, baby?”

He watches you with hunger in his eyes and the desire to have him use you as he pleases to seek his own pleasure overcomes you.

He brushes his tongue against your swollen nub, and you gasp, “Yes.”

“Pretty girl,” he hums and you’re immediately wrapped around his finger. “Do you want to be my perfect little slut?” You nod, meeting his heated gaze, a wolfish grin curling on his lips. “You're too good to me, you know that, baby?” He teases his tongue around your entrance, eliciting a whine from you. “My pretty girl.” Lips wrap around your clit and you scream, body falling limp against his sheets. “My perfect, little slut.”

And with that his tongue is on you, violently bringing you to another release. You are oxygen and he is a man deprived, burying himself deeper in your cunt. A growl emits from the back of his throat as you thread your fingers through his hair, your winces from oversensitivity shifting to moans of pleasure. He finds home between your thighs, reluctant to leave as he licks at every drop of sweetness you grant him. Jungkook brings you to release over and over until your tears stream down your face and you find it hard to take the pressure of his tongue against your overly-sensitive nerves.

With one last wave of pleasure washing over you, he pulls away. His cheeks are coated with a warm fuchsia, lips parted as he looks at your cunt with a predatory gaze. From his nose to his chin, he is covered in a sheen of your juices, eyes blown out as they meet your own.

He adores your fucked out expression, your chest heaving while you catch your breath. His tongue swipes at the remnants of your release on his swollen lips, the back of his hand wiping the excess off his chin before he leans down to catch you in a short kiss. When he pulls away, his eyes search yours for any sign that you want to stop, but he finds nothing.

“You did so well, baby,” he whispers against your lips. “How are you feeling?”

“You told me you would make me pretty and full of your cum.” His gaze hardens on you, dark eyes trained on your own. “‘M not full of your cum yet. Can you fix that?”

“Such a greedy slut.” A smile grows on his lips as he leans down to your neck, nipping at the skin. “I made you come on my mouth so many times, but you still want more. Greedy, needy slut.”

“For you.” You wrap your legs around his waist as you grind yourself against his dick. “Only for you.”

He groans, hips rolling in rhythm with yours. “You like being my slut?”

“I like being yours.”

He stills for all of a second before he breaks out into a grin, laughing as he presses a kiss against your lips. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and pulls his lips back on yours. As he leans towards you, his shaft presses against your folds. You’re barely able to focus on the kissing as you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensation as he grinds against you, coating his length with your juices.

A knot forms in your lower abdomen like a hot, tight coil wanting to snap. You can already feel yourself get needy at the feeling of his length against your folds, but before you can act upon it—!

“Tsk.” Jungkook clicks his tongue against his teeth as he catches you trying to slip his cock past your folds. “You want my cock?”

“Mhm,” you hum in a daze, eyes lazily meeting his. “Want you inside me.”

“It’s not going to be that easy, baby.” You furrow your eyes at that, mouth opening in protest. “Beg for it. Tell me how badly you want to be fucked by my cock.”

You frown. “That’s not happening—!”

There’s a teasing pressure against your pussy that makes you gasp, eyes rolling back as your mouth hangs open. A soft whimper escapes from you as he adjusts his cock to rub against you, mixing his pre-cum with your juices.

“What was that?” He asks, smirking and you glare at him through your lashes. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I can give you everything you want if you just—” he leans down until his lips brush against your ear, his finger grazing over your sensitive clit and you hiss, pushing your hips against his hands for more, “—beg.”

Again, you ignore his request but more so because he aligns his cock to prod against your cunt and you cannot focus on anything but your need to have him buried in you. You can feel the sudden weight in the pit of your stomach as you lick your lips.

“So hungry for my cock,” he grunts. “You want something to fill you up so good you forget your name, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you cry at the lack of attention on your sex. “Please.”

“Please what?” He asks, lips curling because he knows he has you exactly where he wants. “Words.”

“Please fuck me,” you give in, frustrated as your walls clench around nothing. You’re hungry for more — body craving more of what he’s willing to offer; of the undeniable pleasure he would provide if you just gave in. “God, I want your cock — need it. Need you to fill me up, need you to fuck me — nngh!” You moan, body going rigid against his as his head rubs against your swollen bud, fingers tweaking at your perked nipples. “Want you so bad, baby. Wanna be your perfect, little slut so bad. Have me however you want, I don’t care — do whatever you want to me. I don’t fucking care.” You grind yourself against him, chest heaving as the desire for him to fill you up becomes desperate. “Just fuck me, baby, please.”

“That’s my girl.” He rewards you with a kiss. “I’ll fuck you, baby. I’ll fill you up with my cock. Gonna bury my cock deep inside your slick cunt. Gonna stretch out your walls so good no other cock will be good enough for you — no other cock could ever fill you up like mine. No one will fuck you better than me.”

“That’s right, baby,” you urge. “Make me yours.”

Painfully, slow he slips his cock into your warm cunt, groaning. He’s big, in both length and grith, causing a slight burn accompanied by an abundance of pleasure. Moans fill the room as he fills you up to the brim, inch by inch until he no longer can. Your hot, slick walls clench around him and he groans, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

“Stop that,” he growls, brows furrowed in concentration. “You’re so fucking tight, ah. If keep you do that I’m going to fucking blow my load.”

“Do your worst, baby,” you say, eyes hazy. “I want you to ruin me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, unsheathing himself from your cunt until the tip is nestled an inch within your entrance and then slams himself back into you. A lewd moan erupts from both of you as the stars decorate your vision. You arch your back, pressing your chest against his, eyes rolling back every time he sinks back into you. With each thrust and roll of your hips, he rubs himself against the spot that leaves ecstasy rushing through your veins.

“You’re so, agh, hot like this.” You can feel the pressure build in your stomach, the coil tightening with every brush of him against your sweet spot. “So hungry for my cock.”

“Feel so good in me,” you moan, watching as his dick slips in and out of your cunt. “Fill me up, ah, so good. Fuck, take what’s yours, baby.”

He visibly shudders at that before latching his lips on your perked nipple. His tongue laps around the perked bud on your breast, spare hand coming to knead the other before he swaps breasts.

You groan, dragging your nails down his back, sure to leave a mark. “Oh, fuck.”

Your eyes roll back as the head of his cock brushes roughly against the spot that has you seeing stars. He has your toes curling, his name coming out like a mantra as he ravishes your body, moaning into your neck. A knot of pleasure tightens, burning like a hot coil and he knows with the way you pulse around his dick that you’re so, very close.

You can taste the bits of your orgasm on the tip of your tongue, but it’s still not enough. You need so much more and he hears it in your pleas.

“Puh—please,” you breathe as you feel him press his lips against your pulse. “Hard—oh, my God.” You barely get the words out of your mouth before he’s ploughing into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. “Ngh, like that, fuck. S-so good, baby. Feels so good.”

“Yeah,” he groans, biting your neck. “So good to me, fuck. Such a good fucking girl.” At that, you squeeze around him and he lets out another lewd moan. “You gonna cum?”

All you manage is a nod and a sharp breath of air. His hand slithers down your body to find your clit and he presses against it harshly, eliciting a hiss from you. It’s oversensitive from the multiple times he made you cum on his tongue, but he doesn’t care because he knows you love it. He’s quick to rub circles around the bud and smirks to himself at your vocal response.

“Don’t — ah — stop.” You feel the coil burn more, pleasure building in your body like rapid fire. So fucking close to your next release, even as the sensitive bud stings. “Gonna — ah — gonna cum.”

His lips are eager for yours, pressing against them in a searing, hot kiss as he tries to coax the orgasm from you with his sinful lips. You can taste yourself on him and hum. His release threatens to unravel before him, but he fights against it so he can feel you wrap around his cock when you cum. He lifts himself off you to admire the blissful look on your face as you slowly become undone before him.

“Pretty girl — ngh,” he whispers, hot breath fanning over your cheeks and you whimper. “All mine. Come — ah — for me, hm? Come all over my cock, baby.”

Sweat drips down both your bodies, your walls clenching around him as he fucks you hard. Every thrust leaves his head nudging against your sweet spot, clouding your vision white. A fire builds within you again, leaving you to gasp for air between every moan.

“Kook, I — ah, I can’t come—” Moan. “I can’t come again.”

Softly rubbing against your clit, he presses a chaste kiss on your lips. “You can take it. You’ve been such a good slut for me, tonight, baby. You can do it. Come around my cock for me.”

And with his words and one last thrust, the burning coil snaps, pleasure rushing through your body in euphoric waves. Your veins flood with ecstasy and he soon follows, his seed coating your walls. Overwhelming pleasure unravels within you both like a wildfire, spreading across your bodies as he continues his pace to ride out your highs. His lips find yours once again, pressing a lazy kiss against yours as you both ride out the last remnants of your orgasms.

Once he’s caught his breath, he slowly slips out of you, lifting himself to admire the way his seed spills out of your pretty cunt. You feel his cum spill out your cunt, down your thighs and onto the sheets beneath you.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he says aloud and your lips curl into a tired smile. “So dirty and full of my cum.”

He leaves the bed, heading towards the washroom to grab a warm cloth and you lay there, tired. Exhaustion seeps itself into your bones, lids heavy as they flutter shut. You don’t hear Jungkook return, but rather feel him when a warm cloth brushes against your swollen pussy, cleaning you up. He’s swift to clean you up the best he could before attending to himself and putting the rag away. Maneuvering over you, he brings the blanket over your bodies, nudging you to lay beside him.

“You were so good, baby,” he whispers as he pulls you closer towards him. “Always so good for me.”

“Mhm.”

He chuckles. “Are you tired?”

“Yea.” You nuzzle against his chest finding comfort in listening to his heartbeat. “I honestly could’ve knocked out after that first orgasm.”

He laughs, pressing a sweet kiss against your forehead. “Sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

“We do?” You furrow your brows. “Why? What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m gonna help you pack your boxes so you can move in by the end of the week.” You laugh along with him, throwing a leg over his own as you get comfortable. “Are you sure? You really ready to move in?”

Unable to hide your smile, you press a chaste kiss to his chest. “Yea, I’m sure.”

"You’ll be stuck with me for a long time,” he hums, exhaustion washing over him. “I won’t be letting you go for a while.”

"You better not.” Your smile quickly turns to a frown when you finally notice. “Jungkook?”

“Yea.”

“I'm hungry.”

all rights reserved © 2020 svenotes

[idy-ll-ique]

His Lovely Girl.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x F!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Requested: nope

Warnings: insecurity

Summary: Sebastian spoils her all the time. What has she ever done for him? When someone leaves a rude comment under her Instagram post, she can't help but rethink her entire relationship with the handsome actor.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! We're back to Marvel lol, enjoy!

---

"I'll see you later, dove, have fun!" Y/N grinned when her boyfriend leaned over, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Bye, Seb, I'll miss you," she whispered and he looked down at her, his heart swelling in his chest, full of appreciation for her. He loved her so much. "I'll miss you too, Y/N, but I'll only be gone for around 6 hours." Y/N pouted and he couldn't help it.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers in a chaste kiss. "I know. Go now, I don't want to be the reason you're late." He laughed heartily when she pushed him away with a smile. "Oh, doll, everyone knows about us, they'll know anyway." With that, he waved at her and left the apartment they shared. Y/N had moved in with him 2 years into dating.

Sebastian Stan; let's just say, he was a busy man. Y/N sighed and got up from the bed, feeling hungry. They had started dating 4 years ago, and what years those were; the most blissful ones in both their lives. They loved each other to death, and they knew that. Y/N waddled into the kitchen and looked around the various cabinets, finding a box of Mac and Cheese.

It was a funny story, actually, how they met. Y/N, at the time, was working as a barista at Starbucks. One day, Sebastian had walked into the Starbucks where she worked, and she was the one who took his order. He was extremely polite, funny and a bit awkward and just like that, she fell in love with him all over again. Y/N was a Marvel geek and Sebastian had noticed.

"I really like your hoodie, doll, where'd you get it?" he had asked her after telling her his order. And she had looked down, seeing the custom-made hoodie she wore. It was black in colour, but one of the sleeves was silver and had a red star on the bicep, just like his arm from the movie Captain America: Winter Soldier.

Bucky's trigger words were printed on the front of the hoodie. She had blushed furiously, simultaneously cursing and thanking her fate and coincidence. "I had it custom made," she had told him at the time and he had grinned so wide he thought his mouth would tear open. That was the moment where he, too, realized that he was getting a crush on the pretty barista.

And he hadn't hesitated to ask her for her number. He had taken a tissue paper, scribbled his number down and had written what's yours? ;) underneath. When he went to pay for his coffee, he purposely made sure that he wasn't giving her any change. With his notes, he slid her the tissue and she took it, giving him a confused look.

When she read it, her breath hitched. While pulling out his change, she had discreetly written her number down on the tissue, saved his on her phone and had given the tissue back to him with the coins. Both of them had grinned widely at each other when he left. While walking home, he had taken out the tissue and had seen her number written neatly under his. And his heart raced, Y/N is worth it.

---

*@yn_yln posted a photo*

4,583 likes

yn_yln Mac and Cheese, anyone? :D

Y/N smiled and logged out of her Instagram account after posting the photo. She just couldn't resist; she looked good that day, one of those days where she felt confident enough to post a picture. She kept her phone away and sauntered into the sitting room to watch something on the television. An hour passed before she yawned, feeling tired.

2:05 pm, her watch displayed. Well, there's no harm in an afternoon nap, am I right? Sebastian wasn't home anyway, and it's not like she had anything to do. Grabbing her phone off the dining table, she walked into hers and Sebastian's shared bedroom, plopping down on the bed. She decided to check her Instagram before falling asleep and opened the said app.

She went through the page that displayed all the likes and comments, pausing at one comment. Her heart dropped as she clicked on the comment, her entire being filling with an uneasy feeling. You're only dating him for the money, admit it. Until then, she had never even thought… about that. Throwing her phone to the side she sat up, breathing heavily.

Y/N was currently jobless. After they started going out, she continued working at Starbucks until last year; Sebastian had suggested that she leave the job and work somewhere better, earn a higher salary. Y/N had discarded the idea at first, since the job paid enough for her to go about her daily things and where would she even find another job?

Starbucks was okay. But Sebastian wouldn't hear it. So she left the job, now jobless. She had applied to a few places but hadn't received any news as of yet. They're right. I'm living off of him. I don't even have a job. What does it look like? A broke woman dating a rich, handsome guy? Oh my God, am I leeching off his hard work? All those thoughts rushed through her head in a span of a few seconds.

The more she thought about it, the more she teared up. Blinking the tears away, she lay back down and curled up under the comfortable blankets. His blankets. She closed her eyes, trying her hardest to fall asleep but the tears were proving it to be difficult. Fortunately, she drifted off into an uneasy slumber 15 minutes later.

---

"Baby, I'm home!"

Silence. Sebastian frowned, carefully walking into the house. "Y/N?" he called out but there was no answer. Keeping the bag he was holding away, he walked further into the apartment, stopping at the doorway of their bedroom. "Aw," he whispered under his breath, smiling, stepping into the bedroom. He gently sat next to his sleeping girlfriend.

His knuckles traced her cheeks but he froze. Why is she so cold? His soft touch was enough to wake her up, because she stirred and blinked up at him. "Seb, hi, welcome back." Her voice was hoarse. "Y/N? Did you fall sick?" he asked worriedly as she sat up, distancing herself from him. "I'm not sick," she muttered but Sebastian wouldn't buy it.

He reached out to cup her cheek, feeling like he had been stabbed multiple times when she leaned away from his touch. "Y/N?" She shook her head and looked out of the window, bringing her knees to her chest. "Just wanna be alone right now." She didn't want to send him away. She wanted to sit in his lap, listen to him rambling about his day…

But she also didn't want to be near him. Do I even deserve him? "What happened?" he insisted, his eyes going wide when she glared at him. "Go. Away." He scrambled off the bed without another word, softly closing the door behind him as he walked into the sitting room, running a hand through his hair. He sat down on the couch and looked around.

What happened in those 6 hours that he was away? Sebastian knew she wasn't on her cycle, it still had another week to come. So it wasn't mood swings. His eyes landed on the empty bowl of Mac and Cheese sitting on the dining table but they skimmed right past it, not knowing that that bowl was the reason for Y/N's sadness. Then he stared at the designer handbag on the opposite couch.

Picking up the bag, he strode back to their room, knocking on the door. Maybe seeing a pretty purse would lighten her mood? "What?" Y/N called out from inside and he opened the door, holding the purse up. "I brought you a gift." Y/N's heart started thudding in her chest and tears glistened in her eyes anew as she stared at the bag with utmost resentment.

"I don't want it."

Sebastian went rigid. She never rejects my gifts. "Y/N—" She started shaking her head. "No. Return it. I'm not taking it. I don't want it," she repeated, her glare now directed at him. "But doll…" he tried, freezing when her jaw clenched. "Get out." Disheartened, he walked out once more, more confused than anything. Now I have to know what happened.

Inside the room, Y/N sobbed silently. The bag was so pretty, her favorite color, the sleek design… she wanted to keep it so bad, but she knew she wasn't worthy of it. Sebastian brought her gifts all the time. Most of them expensive as shit; he had the money to blow off. What had she done for him? Nothing, really. He spoiled her heartily, never once allowing her to do the same.

"You're mine, baby girl, mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to spoil."

She was definitely leeching off him. Outside the room, Sebastian took out his phone and texted Y/F/N, who was Y/N's closest friend. They rarely spoke, but Y/N told Y/F/N everything and he knew she'd have answers.

hey, do you know what's up with y/n

why what happened

she's in a really bad mood

she's angry at me and I brought her a gift but she won't take it

she usually loves them but today…

OH WAIT

I know what happened

she texted me in the afternoon

something about a comment on Instagram or something

ig that's why she's in a bad mood

oh

thanks

I'll check it out

He ended the conversation and opened Instagram, seeing a new post from his dear girlfriend. Sebastian couldn't help but smile as he liked the photo, commenting a heart emoji. There were only around 22 comments on the post, so he decided to go through them. Which comment had triggered her? He found it instantly and his nostrils flared.

Replying to the fairly rude comment, he typed, how about you fuck off and mind your own damn business? If you don't like her, unfollow and leave. There's literally nothing else you need to do. After hitting send, he kept his phone away and, determination shining in his eyes, ran back to the bedroom.

He threw open the door and a sob escaped the lips of the startled woman. He started taking off the annoying clothes he was wearing until he was just in his boxers, sliding into the bed next to her. She attempted to push him away but the strong man didn't budge, holding her on his lap as she thrashed. Soon, she gave up the fight and melted against him, crying her eyes out.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again and again, her breath hitching. "Hush, baby, it's okay, I'm not mad," he whispered, rubbing her back, helping her calm down. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms tight around him. "Tell me the truth. What happened?" he asked even though he knew the answer. Tiredly, Y/N narrated everything; from the comment to all her insecurities.

Sebastian gently cupped her cheeks, wiping her tears off. "Y/N, you're mine. I love taking care of you, I love spoiling you, and I don't do it because I expect something in return, I do it because I love you. Don't listen to strangers on the internet, what better work do they have? Nothing but lowlifes. You don't have to do anything for me. I don't want you to do anything for me."

"But Seb…"

"No. No, you're my girlfriend and only the best for my girl. I love all the gifts you get me. I cherish them wholeheartedly. Just you being my girl is a gift better than anything else in the world, to be honest. But I'm going to continue looking after you whether you like it or not. You don't even have to go to work, I'm here for you. I love you." Y/N teared up again.

They were happy tears.

"I love you so much," she cried weakly and Sebastian pulled her to him, cradling her head, breathing her in. "I love you too, doll. Now will you take my gift, please?" She nodded against him and he gently lowered her on the bed, going outside to get the bag. Once back in their room he handed the bag to her, smiling at the way her eager hands reached up to accept the gift.

As he watched her admiring the bag, he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, till death do them part.

His girl, his lovely girl.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

[hrtiu]

i couldn’t find anything written for these two online so i thought i’d give it a shot! this is katy x shang-chi. what should their ship name be? i vote for shaunty. continue if you love friends-to-lovers 🥰

For Katy, the weirdest part about coming home after nearly dying and saving the world from a soul-sucking monster was realizing that she needed to find a new job.

“You could always apply to be an archery instructor at that place in Golden Gate Park,” Shaun said, looking over her shoulder at her laptop.

“Yeah, I don’t think my three days of experience will look very good on the resume,” Katy said, balancing the laptop on her thighs as she sat cross-legged on his bed.

“You could always put, ‘fired the shot that saved the universe,’” Shaun said. He leaned just a little too far into Katy’s space for comfort. “What should matter are results, right?”

“Ha ha,” Katy said, her throat suddenly dry. She didn’t bother to tell him she’d already inquired with the place and they weren’t hiring.

It had been like this since they’d gotten back from Ta Lo. Just… a little off. How was she supposed to act around her friend after going through an experience like this? How was she supposed to act after discovering a whole new side to someone she’d thought she knew so well? How was she supposed to breathe around Shaun now that she knew what he looked like with his shirt off?

Katy caught Shaun’s eye in the mirror of her laptop screen and swallowed, slamming the laptop shut before she or it combusted. It was all getting to be a bit much.

“Is everything alright?” Shaun asked from somewhere behind her.

Katy nodded, Shaun’s garage studio suddenly stifling despite the constant San Francisco temperature of 60 degrees outside. “Yeah, I’m just… I think I’ll maybe look again tomorrow.”

Shaun moved around the back of his bed and sat next to Katy, his thigh touching her knee. “Come on, Katy. What’s up? It couldn’t possibly be any weirder than the stuff I’ve told you recently.”

“Plenty of room at the Hotel California…” Katy started humming, her hand tapping against her leg in time to the music.

Shaun grabbed her hand and tugged, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Come on, you know that only works on idiots.”

“Well then it should have worked on you.”

Shaun frowned, then rested his other hand on top of the one he was already holding, his thumb sliding soothingly back and forth across her skin. “Seriously, Katy. Are you alright?”

Katy bit her lip and looked down at their connected hands. “It’s this!” she burst out, jerking her chin towards their hands. “Since when did we do this?”

Shaun let go of her hand and scooted away immediately, leaving a good foot of distance between them on the bed. Hurt lit his eyes. “Maybe since we almost died together?” he said defensively. “But you could have just told me you were uncomfortable. I won’t do it again.”

“No, wait. Shaun!” Katy fumbled over her words. “It’s not uncomfortable, really. Or well, it is, but it’s not a bad kind of uncomfortable. It’s just weird because I’ve never felt awkward around you before. But now I do and I don’t know what to do about it or what’s changed or even if you’ve noticed it or not.”

“You feel awkward around me?”

“Yeah! And you seem totally fine which is… great for me,” Katy said, her neck heating. This sucked. She hoped she’d be able to get over this soon so she could go back to singing karaoke late into the night without worrying if she was going to make a pass at him when she was drunk.

“I’m fine because it’s you!” he said. “I’ve known you for forever! What am I doing that’s making you uncomfortable, because I can stop.”

Katy cast a sidelong glance at him, her eyes tracing up the exquisitely-defined muscles of his forearms. I wonder if I could get him to take his shirt off again, she thought longingly. “You could eat a few Ho Hos with a side of pizza, I guess.”

His forehead crinkled in confusion, which drew attention to his eyes, which then led her down to his lips. Ok, maybe there was no leading going on, and Katy had just decided to look there herself.

“Look, normally I’m pretty good at interpreting Katy,” Shaun said, “But I think I might need a little help today.”

I could help you out of your clothes. Woah. That thought had better not come out of her mouth.

Katy jumped to her feet and turned from Shaun, her eyes struggling to find something else to focus on—anything else. “It’s fine, alright. I’m just being weird because I realized you’re hot and now it’s hard to stop thinking about it.”

“Woah! I’m hot?”

“Shut up, you know you are.” Katy moved over to the garage door and turned back to him, confident she could face him with some distance between them.

“No, I don’t! You used to call me shrimp cracker back in high school!”

“Yeah, well, all those shrimp decided to start swimming in the formation of an eight-pack on your torso, so…”

Shaun walked over to her, a grin spreading across his face. “All those times you made fun of me in gym class, and look at you now.”

He was getting too close, and Katy backed along the garage door away from him. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“Hey, I think I deserve to bask a little in your admiration,” Shaun said, still advancing on her with a smirk she knew was just teasing.

“Shut up, Shaun,” she said, taking one more step behind her.

Her foot caught on the backpack she’d tossed carelessly by the door, and just like that she was going down. Then Shaun grabbed her arm and pulled her to him, just barely managing to keep her from dropping like a bag of rice.

One of his hands gripped her wrist while the other wrapped around her waist, holding her flush against him. Her nose was only an inch or two from his, and she could see her own reflection in his eyes. She stopped breathing.

Shaun’s eyes widened, and his fingers twitched nervously at her waist. “Oh,” he said, voice quiet and surprised. “Yeah, this is weird.”

Katy’s heart dropped into her stomach, and it was only at that moment that she realized how far gone she already was. Well, that was that.

She dropped her eyes, but there was nowhere to look but him, so she fixed her gaze on the zipper of the coat he always wore.  There was a stain right around the hem. He should probably get a new coat now that he was important and all.

The hand holding her wrist dropped, and suddenly his warm palm was pressed against her cheek, lifting her head up. She looked back into his eyes and found a familiar warmth there. It was unquestioning friendship and loyalty. It was love.

“It’s a good thing I like weird,” he said. Then he leaned in and kissed her.

Katy wrapped her arms around him, pulling him harder against her and finally—finally—getting to feel those muscles. When she’d privately fantasized about this moment over the past few days, she’d always worried it might feel strange or wrong—like kissing her brother. But it turned out she’d worried for nothing. Shaun’s hands on her hips felt right, and his lips moved against her mouth in a way that made her knees week. No, this was definitely not like kissing her hot, super hero brother.

After a few minutes Shaun pulled away, his expression dazed but smiling. “Ok, I take it back,” he said. “Not weird at all.”

Katy smirked up at him. “I guess I wasn’t trying hard enough.” Her phone chimed her text alert and she jumped, nearly forgetting it was in her back pocket. “Oh, damn, I forgot I told mom I’d be home to help her restock.”

“I can come with,” Shaun said, his hand moving experimentally up and down her waist.

“Sure.” A thought occurred to Katy and she stopped typing mid-text to her mom. She looked up at Shaun, her eyes wide. “Shaun. Waipo is going to be so psyched.”

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Reassurance

masterlist

part one

Summary: Spencer feels insecure, and Reader puts his worries to rest. 

A/N: I got several requests to write a follow-up to Avoidance , and after writing almost the whole entire thing, only to scrap it all because it was literal trash, here we are! I initially planned to go a different route with this, but it didn’t flow right and I ended up changing the entire plot line somewhere along the way. I really like how this turned out, and I hope you guys enjoy it, too!

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom!Reader

Content warnings: cursing, Spencer being insecure, hand job, oral sex (male receiving), anal fingering, pegging, light degradation, Spencer experiencing sub-drop

Word Count: 6k

           Spencer’s lips drag against mine at a slow, deliberate pace as I sit perched on his lap, my hands tugging lightly at where his hair curls at the nape of his neck. One particularly harsh tug has Spencer gasping into my mouth and tightening his grip on my hips, pulling me down until I’m fully sat on his lap. The bulge tenting his slacks comes in full contact with my clothed core and I hum appreciatively against his lips.

           “Getting excited there, baby?”

           Spencer lets out a whine of protest when I pull away, leaning forward in an attempt to reunite our lips. I press my hand flat against his chest and push him back until he rests against the couch cushions.

           “I thought you wanted to watch a movie tonight?” I ask him, my lips curled up into a knowing smile. Spencer’s thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into my hips as he fixes me with a shy smile.

           “Maybe later,” he replies, sheepish. He looks breathtaking - bathed in the soft glow of the lamp light, shadows dancing across every perfectly chiseled inch of his face. Faint purple bruises dot the underside of his jaw line, remnants of the last time we had been afforded enough time to get tangled up under the bedsheets. I press my thumb to one of them, applying just enough pressure to cause Spencer’s breath to hitch. In another day or two, the purple and yellow discoloration would be gone, leaving no trace of our time together.

           I release my hold on his jaw and make a mental note to see to it that he has another set of pretty marks before the weekend is over.

           “Later?” I lift the hand that was splayed across his chest until I’m able to fiddle with the top button on his dress shirt. “You talk as if you have something else you’d like to do first. Care to share?”            Spencer squirms underneath my gaze, eyes flitting between my lips and where I’m pressed firmly against his erection. I watch him flounder to come up with a response before deciding to forgo words completely and rut himself against me, eyelids fluttering closed as he lets out a low whine.

           I click my tongue at him and raise up until my center hovers over him, torturously close but not quite close enough to touch.

           “What’s the matter, Doctor? It’s not like you to be at a loss for words,” I taunt as I pop open the last three buttons of his shirt. Now that the milky white skin of his chest is on full display, I waste no time in dragging my fingernails from his collarbone down to his navel, light and teasing. The action elicits a shiver from Spencer, who looks up at me with glossy eyes and blown pupils.

           “P-Please,” he stutters out.

           “Please, what?” I prod, cocking my head to the side. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

           Spencer’s tongue pokes out to run across his bottom lip.

           “I want you,” he breathes out, low and sultry. “Now. Don’t wanna wait.”

           I let out a pleased sigh as I lean forward to capture Spencer’s lips in a heated kiss. Spencer’s quick to reciprocate, eagerly licking into my mouth as soon as my lips brush against his.

           It’s not long until I feel the hands on my waist begin to tug me back down onto his lap, eliciting a giggle from me.

           “Such a needy little thing,” I murmur against his lips.

           Usually, a comment like this would be met by some sort of mumbled affirmation. But this time, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel Spencer’s whole body tense up beneath me.

           “Does… Does that bother you?”

           I pull away and give Spencer an inquisitive look.

           “Does what bother me?”

           Spencer averts his eyes, “That I’m so submissive.” He spits the word out like it burns his mouth – like it’s something to be ashamed of – and I can’t suppress my frown.

           “Why would that ever bother me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble shrug of his shoulders, still refusing to pull his gaze from where it rests on the floor.

           “I read an article in Psychology Today that discussed a survey in which 172 German adults completed a personality questionnaire and then measured their own preference for a dominant partner. Not only was the general consensus that both genders prefer dominant partners, the participants also agreed with statements like ‘a very nice partner is often boring’ and ‘I feel attracted to assertive partners.’ So, it’s only natural that you might get tired of me always being such a pushover and search for a more exciting partner than can keep you stimulated-”

           I clamp my hand down on Spencer’s mouth, effectively ending his self-deprecating rant and forcing him to look up from where his eyes were burning a hole into the floor. When I know he isn’t going to try and continue down that particularly awful train of thought, I remove my hand.

           “First of all, you are not a pushover. Insinuating that you are a pushover would also be insinuating that I’m taking advantage of you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?” Spencer’s eyes grow wide and he frantically shakes his head.

           “Absolutely not. I… I love what you do to me – with me. What we do together. I-I just want to be sure that you like it to. That you’re not just humoring me until someone who can actually give you what you want comes around.”

           I feel my mouth fall open from shock somewhere during the middle of his spiel. He can’t actually be so oblivious to the fact that I enjoy the hell out of our sex life, can he?

           Apparently, he can and he is, because Spencer takes my silence as affirmation.

           “I could try? To d-dom you, that is. I’ve been reading up on it and-”

           “Spencer, where on earth did this come from?”

           Spencer blinks hard, “I told you – I read it in Psychology Today.”

           I shake my head at him and slip off of his lap and onto the couch cushion beside him.

           “No, that’s not what I meant. What made you think that I’m not happy with our sex life?”

           “N-Nothing in particular,” Spencer stammers. “I just know that I’m not exactly the most masculine guy, and I want to make sure that you’re, you know… happy. With me.”

           And there it is.

           I reach for Spencer’s hand and link our fingers together.

           “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that comment Derek made this morning, would it?” Spencer doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes drop to his lap tells me everything I need to know. I tighten my grip on his hand. “You know he was just messing with you, right? As out of line as it was, he was just being… Derek.”

           “He wasn’t wrong, though. I am extremely docile – along with a litany of other very passive traits. I’m not strong or assertive or confident like Derek; I’m basically the complete opposite of the ideal male partner. All I’m good for is spouting out information that’s only sometimes useful. No wonder you don’t want to-” Spencer clamps his mouth shut and his cheeks burn red. “Forget it. C-Can we pretend this conversation never happened?”

           “No wonder I don’t want to what?” I prod, brows furrowed in confusion. But still, Spencer refuses to meet my eyes. “And as far as all the other stuff goes, it doesn’t matter if you’re assertive or strong. I prefer my sweet, gentle boy over guys like Derek Morgan, any day. My ideal male partner just so happens to be pretty boys with curly brown hair and massive IQs, not aggressive alpha males with overinflated egos.” I bring Spencer’s hand up to my lips and place a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “I’m being serious, Spence. There’s a lot to love about you.”

           Spencer’s next words are hushed, so quiet that I almost don’t hear him when he says, “Then why haven’t you told anyone about us yet?”

           In the two months since our first time together, neither of us had been brave enough to broach the subject of what exactly we were doing. With neither of us quite sure how to go about defining the relationship, we’d fallen into a sort of routine. Whenever it came time to pair off for the night and retreat to our hotel rooms, Spencer and I always made sure that we were paired together. Hotch never seemed to care – he was just happy that we weren’t walking on eggshells around each other anymore - and the others were kind enough to keep their suspicions to themselves. On the weekends, or really any time that we weren’t working a case, time off was spent in each other’s company, be it at Spencer’s place or mine. Days full of impromptu adventures to farmer’s markets and niche antique shops devolved into passionate nights spent learning every inch of each other’s skin until no stone was left unturned. It was the perfect arrangement.

           Or at least it would’ve been, if Spencer and I hadn’t managed to fall half way in love somewhere along the way. It was glaringly obvious early on that it was way more than just sexual chemistry that kept us both coming back for more, but owning up to that fact was a whole other issue that neither of us was ready to deal with.

           Until now, apparently.

           “I-I mean, we haven’t talked about what exactly this is, so I wasn’t quite sure how to go about that,” I stammer. “But now that you’ve brought it up…”

           Spencer finally looks up and his eyes are filled to the brim with equal parts fear and hope.

           “I-I really want there to be an us,” he whispers. “I kind of thought that much was obvious.”

           “And I thought the fact that I have absolutely zero complaints in the bedroom was obvious, but here we are,” I tease, and Spencer lets out an involuntary giggle when I poke at his side. “I want there to be an us, too. And for what it’s worth, I like you just the way you are, Spencer Reid - just so we’re clear.”

           “Really?” Spencer persists. From anyone else, it would seem like they were fishing for compliments, but from Spencer? I knew my sweet, darling boy just needed some reassurance.

           I lean forward and capture his lips in a long, languid kiss.

           “Really really,” I mumble when I pull away. “Have I done a thorough enough job drilling that into your head, or do you need some more convincing?”

           “More convincing,” Spencer replies as he ducks in for another kiss. “Lots and lots of convincing.”

           I smile against his lips, “That’s good to hear, because I sorta had a little something special planned for you.”

           “Something special?”

           I slide my hand from its place on his knee until my fingers glide across the tip of his clothed cock.

           “Remember that thing we talked about last week?”

           I can feel the way Spencer’s cock twitches under my hand and I have to bite back a smile.

           “Y-Yeah?”

           I give his bulge a light squeeze that has Spencer moaning low in his throat.

           “Only if you want to. There’s no pressure at all. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’d be perfectly fine if you just wanna watch that movie and cuddle a bit - you know that right?”

           “Yes, but I still want to,” Spencer chokes out. “Very, very much.” And then he’s bringing a hand up to cup my face before slotting our lips together again.

           The kiss is sloppy, seeing as we’re both much too excited to worry about being precise. Spencer spends time exploring my body with his free hand, starting at my hips and then dipping underneath my t-shirt. Spencer’s hand is just shy of skimming over my bra when I pull back and he lets out a frustrated whine when I pull his hands off of me.

           “I wanna ask you a few things before we do this, okay, baby?” Spencer flushes a deep crimson as he nods. “Have you ever experimented with any sort of anal play before?”

           “N-No, I haven’t. Is that okay?”

           Spencer Reid, you are going to be the death of me.

           “That’s perfectly fine, sweet boy,” I coo. “I’m just trying to get a feel for what’s going to be the most comfortable for you. We’ll start small and work our way up, okay?” Spencer nods, prompting me to tack on an, “Assuming that you want to, that is. This is all on your terms, and I need to make sure that you know that nothing’s going to happen that you don’t expressly consent to first.”

           Spencer’s lips pull up into a sweet smile.

           “I know, and I trust you,” he says. “And I consent to it. To all of it.”

           “You’re gonna have to be a little bit more specific than that,” I chuckle. “What exactly are you consenting to?”

           Spencer shifts in his seat, “Y-You know.”

           “Yes, but I want to hear you say it, baby.”

           Spencer gulps hard, “I-I want you to fuck me. Please.”

           I let out a satisfied hum and remove my hand from Spencer’s lap.

           “I want you to go to the bedroom and take off all your clothes. Then I want you to lie in the center of the bed and if I walk in and see you touching yourself, I’ll walk right back out and I won’t touch you for a month. Are we clear?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss.”

--

           I spend much longer than necessary in the living room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through my phone for nearly ten minutes before getting up and making my way to the bedroom. The anticipation is half of the fun, in my opinion, and I take great pleasure in imagining Spencer squirming against the sheets, desperate for me to walk through that door.

           I rid myself of my skirt and blouse as I make my way down the hallway, leaving me in only my panties and bralette. I can hear Spencer’s heavy breathing before I even reach the bedroom, and it makes my stomach flip excitedly as I push open the door.

           Spencer lays in the middle of the bed, hands grabbing at the sheets as he rolls his hips in vain. His cock stands painfully hard, leaking precum and bobbing up and down with every motion of his hips. Spencer doesn’t see or hear me when I come in – his eyes are closed tight and his bottom lip is nestled between his teeth, blissfully oblivious as he ruts up into nothing.

           “It seems like my poor, needy boy has worked himself up into quite a state.”

           The sound of my voice startles him and he immediately halts the movement of his hips. Spencer’s eyes watch on and I walk over to the night stand, taking my time as I remove a bottle of lube, my harness, and the newly purchased dildo bought especially for my sweet boy.

           Spencer’s eyes linger on the silicone member, wide and curious as I set the items on the bed and crawl in between his legs. He spreads his legs without being prompted, leaving him completely exposed to me, and the action makes my heart swell with pride. My good boy has learned so much in the past two months.

           “M’gonna suck that pretty cock of yours now, and I want you to keep your hips still. Can you do that for me, baby?”

           Spencer nods frantically, “Y-Yes, Miss. Please – I need your mouth. I’ll be still, I promise.”

           I let out a pleased hum as I take him into my hand, dragging my fist up and down, spreading precum across the entirety of his length.

           “I know you will, baby. You’re always so good for me. So eager to please.”

           I lean down and begin placing kisses to the sensitive skin of his thighs, all while continuing to work my hand against him. I nip lightly at the skin above his right hip and Spencer sucks in a ragged breath when I suck a pretty purple bruise in the very same spot. It contrasts starkly with his porcelain skin, and I enjoy the way it looks so much that I continue until a plethora of love bites litter his inner thighs. When I finally sit back and admire my work, Spencer’s writhing so pitifully against the mattress that I decide to put him out of his misery.

           Spencer devolves into a whimpering mess the moment I take his tip into my mouth, his head thrashing wildly against the mattress when I swirl my tongue around him. I take my time with him, not at all rushing my descent onto his cock, choosing instead to tease him with a slow, steady pace. If Spencer minded my slower than usual pace, he didn’t say so. He was too busy choking out an unrelenting string of the most wanton moans I’d ever heard as he watched himself disappear into my mouth.

           I decide now is as good a time as any to up the ante and I pull my mouth away from him.

           “W-Why did you stop?” Spencer stutters, chest heaving up and down.

           I raise an eyebrow at him, “Are you being ungrateful, Doctor? Because if you are, I could always just leave you here like this - cock hard and leaky with no way to get off other than your own hand. That wouldn’t be nearly as fun as having me fuck that pretty little ass of yours.”

           “No, please! I’m so sorry,” Spencer mewls. “I’ll be good, just please don’t leave!”

            I loosely grasp Spencer’s cock in my hand and run my thumb across his slit.

           “You sound so pretty when you beg, baby. I can’t wait to hear how pretty you are when you’re begging for me to fuck you harder.”

           Spencer’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth hangs open, panting hard.

           “I want it so bad. Please, please, please, Miss.”

           I use my free hand to reach up and push two fingers into Spencer’s mouth, “Suck. I want them real nice and wet so that I can use them to get you ready for me.”

           Spencer moans around my fingers, laving his tongue around the them as he hollows his cheeks. When I retract my fingers from his mouth they’re practically dripping and I reward his effort by tightening my grip on his cock.

           “Good job, baby. Are you ready for me to finger that tight little hole of yours?” I ask him as I release his cock and grab the bottle of lube. I drizzle a healthy amount onto my fingers before dragging one across his puckered hole, eliciting a high-pitched cry from Spencer.

           “Yes!” Spencer gasps as he attempts to wiggle closer. “So ready for you, Miss. Use your f-fingers on me, please!”

           I start by slowly pressing one in, so as not to overwhelm him, and to my endless delight, it glides in almost effortlessly.

           “Already so ready for my fingers, Doctor. You sure you haven’t touched yourself here before?” I ask as I begin to work my finger in and out in slow thrusts.

           “N-Never. O-Only you,” Spencer stutters out between moans. “C-Can you add another, Miss?”

           I pull my finger out, only to add another and resume my efforts at a slightly faster pace. Spencer’s back arches up off the bed when my fingers brush against his prostate and he lets out a half startled, half delighted yelp.

           “Oh fuck!” Spencer moans as he grinds down onto my fingers. “Again, please, Miss!”

I comply, and with every press of my fingers against the fleshy bundle of tissue, Spencer’s body jolts from the sensation.

           “S’that feel good, baby? Do you like how my fingers feel?”

           “Oh, God, yes! F-Feels so good. Never felt like this b-before,” Spencer sobs. “I-I’m getting close, Miss.”

           “I didn’t say that you can cum, baby. I wanna save that for when I’ve got my cock buried inside you. How’s that sound?”

           “Y-Yes, Iwantitsobad,” Spencer slurs, his words running together as he draws nearer and near to the end. “Want you to fuck me, Miss! Please, I’ll do anything-”

           I take pity on him and withdraw my fingers, which makes Spencer keen in protest.

           “Calm down, greedy boy. Just gotta get ready so I can give you what you want.”

           I crawl off of the bed and step into the harness, fastening it in place and making sure that the dildo is secure before I crawl in between his legs. Spencer watches on with rapt fascination as I pour lube into my palm and work it over the silicone cock until every inch of it glistens.

           “What’s your color, baby?” I ask as rub the tip of the cock over his hole.

           Spencer’s breath catches in his throat and his whole-body tenses with anticipation.

           “So green, Miss. So fucking green,” Spencer whimpers.

           I raise a hand up to his hip and begin to rub soothing circles into the skin there.

           “Gonna need you to relax for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?”            Spencer bites his lip and nods his head. I watch as the tension begins to melt away, and when I see him relax back into the mattress, I bring up my hand to stroke his cock. I keep my touch light, barely applying pressure – I knew if I applied too much, Spencer wouldn’t be able to hold out longer than a few thrusts. He was already teetering on the edge as it was.

           Mine and Spencer’s eyes meet and he smiles up at me, dopey and drunk from pleasure, and it’s all the permission I need. I press into him slowly, and I’m left in awe as I watch Spencer Reid completely unravel beneath me.

           “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Spencer curses, head flying back and hitting the pillows. It never ceases to amaze me at how fucking responsive he is, and tonight is no exception. It’s like his body is a live wire, trembling beautifully as I press in further and further and further. I stop just shy of being fully sheathed inside him, trying to allow him a moment to adjust, but Spencer seems to have other plans.

           “Keep going, Miss, don’t stop, please! I want all of it, please give it to me! I can take it, please let me show you!”

           He looks up at me and those beautiful brown eyes are so wild, so positively feral that I can’t even entertain the idea of denying him any longer.

           Spencer looks positively ruined by the time I bottom out inside him. His hair sticks to the sheen of sweat that gathers on his forehead, and his lips look positively abused from the way he’s been biting down on them. His eyelids flutter closed every few seconds, and every time he blinks them back open, I’m able to see that his pupils are so blown that his eyes look almost black.

           I pull back until all that’s left inside him is the very tip of the cock, and just as he opens that bratty little mouth to beg for more, I give particularly harsh thrust of my hips until I’m fully sheathed inside him. Spencer lets out a surprised cry as I set an unforgiving pace, all the while still loosely jerking him off as I bury myself inside him again and again and again.

           “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Spencer chants loudly, face contorted beautifully in an expression of pure ecstasy. I spare a brief thought to Spencer’s poor neighbors and make mental note to invest in a ball gag.

           “S’that feel good, baby? You look so pretty taking my cock like the good boy you are. My pretty little cock slut. Such a shame nobody’s fucked you like this before,” I hum as I focus my attention on the head of his cock, thumbing lightly at where he leaks for me.

           “D-Don’t want anyone else, just wanna be good for y-you. Wanna m-make you proud,” Spencer whines, tripping over his words as he struggles to form a coherent sentence. The sentiment sends a jolt of heat down to my already soaking core, but I do my best to ignore the slickness running down my thighs for the time being. Right now, my only focus is the boy chanting my name, praying for a type of salvation that only I can give him.

           I smile down at him and my hand drifts lower to where I’m steadily thrusting in and out of him. Spencer’s body jolts as the pad of my thumb brushes against the sensitive skin of his hole.

           “Of course, I’m proud of you. Look at how well you’re taking me, baby. It’s like you were made to take my cock,” I praise him.

           My words, mixed with the way I’m working both Spencer’s cock and his tight little ass, seem to be getting the better of him, because Spencer doesn’t even try to formulate a response. He just continues to let out strangled moans that almost sound like sobs as his hands grasp at the sheets until his knuckles turn white.

           It doesn’t take long until I feel the muscles in Spencer’s stomach and thighs begin to tense, and when his cock twitches in my hand I can tell Spencer won’t last much longer.

           “Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” I ask him as I grind my hips against his, and Spencer’s reply comes in the form of an incoherent, garbled moan.

           “What’s the matter, baby? Have I fucked you so stupid that you can’t answer me anymore?” I taunt him. I use the leverage I have from the hand placed on his hip to propel myself deeper. “Is my poor dumb baby incapable of replying?”

           Spencer makes a feeble attempt at a reply, “P-Please let me – f-fuck – cum! Oh, God, m’socloseMiss. Harder, please!”

           I take a minute to bask in the way he’s completely fallen apart at my hands - relishing in the way his eyes are glossy and dark with lust, in the way that his chest is flushed a deep red, and in the way that precum beads at the tip of his cock, aching for a release. He looks beautiful like this, whining and squirming, hips grinding down in search of more, more, more. I’d never imagined in a million years that I’d be so lucky as to see the illustrious Spencer Reid fucked absolutely senseless, but here he was, waiting for my permission to throw himself off the edge and into the best kind of oblivion.

           “Cum for me, pretty boy,” I say in the softest voice imaginable. “Show me how good you are.”

           The tension that had been steadily building since the first press of my lips against his snaps in an instant, and copious amounts of cum spurt out from his cock, painting his chest in thick, white ropes. Spencer chants out muddled thank yous as I fuck him through his release, pushing in and out of him in shallow strokes as slowly comes back down from the high.

           When his breathing slows down to a normal rate, I pull out of him, quickly freeing myself from the harness and tossing it aside to be dealt with later. I crawl up until I’m at eye level and begin pressing soft, sweet kisses to Spencer’s face.

           “You did so well, Spence,” I murmur against his skin. “You’re amazing, baby. Thank you so much for trusting me to be with you like that.”

           Spencer lifts a shaky hand to my hair and pulls me down into a heated kiss. I indulge him and pour every ounce of passion I have into my efforts, hoping to express my gratitude with every swipe of my lips against his. And when I pull away, my pretty boy smiles up at me, sated and full of adoration, and it’s beautiful.

           “D’you think you can handle taking a shower with me?” I ask as I pull away, and Spencer gives a shy nod in response. He sits up in the bed and swings his legs until his feet hit the floor. I’m just about to stand when his hand comes down on my wrist to stop me.

           “What about you? You didn’t . . .”

           “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Tonight was all about you.”

           I move off of the bed and help him to his feet, holding him steady when his legs begin to shake. “Might be a little sore for a while, but it should go away within a day or so.”

           I help him to the bathroom and turn on the shower, and when it’s warm enough I rid myself of my bra and panties and motion for him to join me. I urge Spencer to step under the spray first, but his arms snake around me and pull me with him.

           Spencer nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck and he lets out a deep sigh.

           “You okay, bubs?” I ask him as I tangle my arms around his torso and begin to rub soothing circles into his back.

           “I just feel a little… down? I-Is this a sub drop? I read a little bit about them, but I don’t k-know…” he trails off, sniffling pitifully against my neck. “I-I just know that I want to hold you. Is that o-okay?”

           My heart lurches painfully in my chest as his voice wavers, and I pull back just enough that I can look into his weary eyes.

           “Baby, that’s more than okay. Sub drops are a perfectly normal thing to experience, and I’ll be right here to hold you for as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

           Spencer’s eyes fill with tears and he makes no attempt to hold them back, choosing to let them fall freely and mix in with the water pouring from the shower head.

           “T-Tell me you want me,” Spencer begs, lip wobbling pitifully. “I-I just feel like I’m not good enough for you, and I know it’s all in my head, and I know how you feel about me, but I just think it would help if you just… s-said it. Please?”

           I feel my heart break for the man that stood before me. The implication his words carry - that this wonderful, kind-hearted, extraordinarily gifted man could ever think so little of himself – was enough to bring tears to my own eyes. I swallow down the lump that forms in my throat and, with all the sincerity I can possibly muster, I reply.

           “I want you, Spencer Reid. I don’t want anyone else – only you,” I tell him, never once breaking eye contact. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

           Spencer chokes out a weak laugh, “And if I want you forever?”

           I nudge his nose with my own, and the act feels almost more intimate than everything that preceded it.

           “Then forever, it is,” I murmur. I press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away and reaching for the shampoo. “Now, turn around, pretty boy. Let me pamper you.”

--

           “Y/N!” Penelope calls out, sauntering over to me in a flash of hot pink taffeta. I’m in the middle of throwing my satchel over my shoulder when she runs up to me, excited smile on her face. “Me, you, JJ, Elle, and a bottle of tequila. You in?”

           On a normal day, the answer would have been a resounding hell yes. But today? I let my eyes wander over to where Spencer lingers near the glass doors, trying to look like he isn’t listening in. Very subtle.

           “I’m gonna have to pass on this one, Penelope.”

           Penelope’s smile transforms into a pout.

           “This is the third weekend in a row you’ve ditched us!” she whines, stomping her kitten heeled foot like a petulant child. “Either you’re avoiding us or you’ve got some secret lover we don’t know about. And if that’s the case, then we have a whole other problem, because that’s the kind of thing I expect to be told about immediately.”

           The giddy smile that stretches across my face gives me away before I even have the chance to open my mouth, sending Penelope into an absolute frenzy.

           “Oh my God, I cannot believe this. We’ll talk about how angry I am about being kept in the dark later because right now, I need details,” Penelope gushes. “Who is he? Where did you two meet? Is he hot?” Penelope barely gets the words out before she’s shaking her head. “Wait, that’s a dumb question. Of course, he’s hot - just look at you. Do I know him? When do I get to meet him?”

           I can’t help but laugh at Penelope’s enthusiasm.

           “Slow down, Pen,” I chuckle. “I didn’t tell you about it because it’s still relatively new, and it wasn’t until this past weekend that we finally decided to put a label on it.”

           “A label? Does that mean this guy is your boyfriend? Oh my God, I thought this day would never come,” Penelope sighs dreamily. But the far-away look in her eye quickly fades and Penelope begins to grill me with renewed fervor. “Y/N, you have to tell me who it is. It’s like, practically a crime that I’m only just now hearing about this, so you owe me this much. And I’ll be needing his first and last name, along with a DOB so that I can run a full back ground check ASAP. Don’t even try to talk me out of it – we deal with enough freakiness during our day jobs, and I insist on making sure the freakiness ends there.”

           I can feel a flush spread over my cheeks and I fiddle with the strap of my bag.

           “I, uh, don’t think a background check is going to be necessary. You know this guy pretty well already.”

           If Penelope had been worked up before, she was practically vibrating with excitement now.

           “I know him? Oh my God, this is so huge. Is it Brendon from down in sex crimes? Or maybe James from counter-terrorism?” Penelope muses aloud, before her eyes go almost comically wide. “Holy hell, it’s Anderson, isn’t it?”

           “It definitely isn’t Anderson, or any of the others, for that matter,” I laugh. “Do you want a hint?”

           “What I really want is for you to just tell me, but if you insist on dragging this out then yes, I would very much like a hint!”

           I cut my eyes over to where Spencer stands, and it’s impossible to miss the giddy grin on his face. So much for trying to remain subtle, Doctor Reid.

           I fake like I’m looking around for anyone within earshot before motioning for Penelope to lean in. She’s quick to comply, and I do one last exaggerated sweep of the room.

           “Alright then, here’s your hint,” I whisper into her ear. “He’s got an IQ of 187, and he’s a pretty kickass magician.”

           I lean back and adjust the strap of my bag, sparing one last, parting glance at Penelope, whose jaw is practically on the floor.

           “See you on Monday, Pen.”

           “W-Wait, are you serious?” Penelope calls out after me. “Reid is your mystery man?! Y/N, get back here right now and explain yourself! Derek, did you hear that?!”

           By the time I reach Spencer, Penelope’s voice fades into background noise as I focus all my attention on the way he smiles down at me. I link my hand with his and I’m vaguely aware of an increase in volume coming from Penelope’s direction, but I ignore in favor of smiling back at him.

           “You ready to get out of here, boyfriend?”

           Spencer squeezes my hand in his and he nods.

           “Ready when you are, girlfriend.”

-

-

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taglist: @90spumkin​​ @moon-light-jukebox​​ @jessalyn-jpeg​ @pinkdiamond1016​​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​​ @eldahae​​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @kasaikawa​ @shadyladyperfection​

[writerpeach]

Lights & Cameras

Jeon Somi x Male Reader

5575 words

Categories: smut, daddy kink, rough sex, dirty talk

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

masterlist

Three hours. Endless outfit changes. Barely an hour for lunch.

Jeon Somi had done photo shoots before, both as part of a group and as a soloist, for commercials and for album covers, but she had never had the focus be on her just like this. Her beautiful face was going to be on the cover of a magazine for the very first time for the entire country to see.

It took countless people to make a magazine shoot run smoothly. Stylists, photographers, directors, makeup artists, interns, and a plethora of untold staff members whose titles were unbeknownst to you.

Somi’s first magazine shoot was exciting. If she was nervous, she hid it well, radiating confidence behind the camera as hundreds of flashes went off every second.

You had lost track of how many times you saw Somi disappearing from the set into her personal dressing room, reemerging in an outfit that either tantalized or confused you. Each ensemble brought out several emotions and at least one change that left you scratching your head.

Fashion never made sense.

There wasn’t a moment behind the cameras that Somi wasn’t swarmed by staff - fixing her hair, touching up makeup, and preparing her for the next set of blinding lights. Somi basked in it all, she loved the attention and loved every moment of being in the spotlight.

You weren’t hired by anyone, yet had one of the most important jobs in the building.

Your job was just to be there. You were a familiar face to the gorgeous young model, keeping the couch warm in the first-story studio where you could be seen at all times when Somi felt a pit in her stomach from being overwhelmed.

One look into your eyes across the distance brought a bright smile to Somi’s lipstick painted lips, one that melted you like a hot summer’s day.

Another outfit change. One more shade of lipstick applied to her lips, her cheeks now a shade of pink instead of red. The fumes of hairspray lingered in the air as her dark big brim hat was swapped out by a simple white ball cap and blue sunglasses.

Truth be told, Somi could make any outfit look good. Whether it be tall high heels that almost made her trip, short skirts that showed off her amazing legs, or puffy coats that she looked adorable in, anything and everything looked great on Somi. You’re pretty sure she could make an astronaut’s spacesuit look sexy.

Somi loved dressing up, wearing expensive clothes and outfits she only dreamed about, each time she was presented with something new feeling giddier than a kid in a candy store.

This outfit you particularly liked on Somi, a rather long green dress that almost touched the ground, perfect for summertime. At first glimpse it seemed to cover her up, the sacrifice worth it as it did a terrific job of hugging her body nicely, leaving her shoulders bare and just a tease of her exposed back.

The best part of her fancy dress was how good her tits looked in it. Her wide hips were plainly visible, curves everywhere and outlining her delicious backside, the perfect woman.

Four hours in, Somi's energy level was just as high as at the start. Perhaps it was your company, or the high of her first solo photo shoot that kept her spirits lifted, filling her tank to get her through the rest of the day.

Bright lights went off again as Somi rotated through a myriad of poses, from sensual, to serious, to downright goofy, conveying a multitude of expressions that seemed to please the director.

Somi was a natural, the camera was in love with her and the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t hear her cute voice over the constant shutter sounds of the camera drowning out her playful laughter, but you knew she was having the time of her life.

Sitting there for hours at a time might have been dull as a spectator, but not so much as you loved watching Somi in different outfits and different styles of makeup. She stepped back into the dazzling lights appearing as an almost completely different person.

The brightly lit set became flooded with staff again. Somi was handed a bottle of water to her left, while on her right someone wiped her brow carefully with a white towel, heading out of view as if that were their only job.

“Thirty minute break!”

An echoing voice from the director rattled the walls as a much needed break was called. Somi was filled to the brim with unlimited energy as she headed to catering and you followed in her footsteps.

The catering table was surrounded in no time flat, trays of pastries and sweets spread out, an assortment of fruits and cheeses, sandwiches and skewered meats all made up a fantastic spread.

“Oh my god, I’m starving,” Somi said as she picked up a plate, stuffing it as high as she could, not even bothering to take a seat as she stuffed her face, forgoing the image she was portraying as a model as soon as she took her first bite.

“What do you think so far?” Somi asked as she found you, mumbling her words as she talked with her mouth full as she approached your position.

“You must be bored out of your mind.”

You shook your head and smiled. “I don’t mind. You look cute wearing all these outfits.”

“Which one was your favorite?” she asked, practically inhaling a bite of strawberry cheesecake.

“I liked the pink dress. And the white top with the jeans. This dress looks really nice on you too,” you said, trying your best not to stare at her chest while dozens of eyes were on you.

“I like it too. It’s light and comfortable and I can move around in it freely. Some of those other dresses I could barely walk in,” she said, annoyed.

Somi waited for a handful of staff members to pass by, exchanging polite bows and smiling as they headed off with equally filled plates.

“I want you to take it off me,” she whispered, flashing a mischievous smile, one that had you seen before.

“You want me to help you change?”

Somi shook her head cutely, keeping her lips pressed close enough to your ear that you could feel her hot breath nuzzling your earlobe.

“I want you to fuck me in this dress, daddy.”

Thankfully nobody was in earshot.

“It’s going to be several more hours before I’m finished shooting. There’s a spare dressing room in the back that nobody is using...” she playfully said, her expression the same as when she tried to convince you her vibrator was a neck massager.

“You’re bad, Somi,” you said, her gaze agreeing with you as you stared into each other’s eyes as if you were wondering what you were about to get into.

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Lead the way. I’ll stay a few steps behind you.”

Somi nodded gleefully, putting her half finished food down on the nearest table.

“I’ll uh, be back. I think something I ate didn’t agree with me,” she announced, letting the staff know she wasn’t going to be available for the time being.

If your calculations were correct the break was called about ten minutes ago, leaving you with twenty minutes left, yet also Somi leaving herself an excuse if extra time was needed.

But twenty minutes was more than enough time for what you wanted to do to her.

You carefully followed Somi, taking care to leave additional space in trailing her as you weaved through makeup tables and desks full of equipment, disappearing behind the set as your heart raced at what was about to happen.

“Come on,” she said, waving you down a long dark corridor and looking behind her as she took purposeful steps. Shortly after, she opened a door and stepped inside, ushering you in as the two of you looked around, making sure the coast was clear before entering.

Somi entered first, locking the door behind you as her lips smirked. She placed her hat and sunglasses on a nearby countertop, ruffling her hair messily.

“You’re so naughty, Somi.”

“Am I? What are you going to do with me?” she asked, putting her arms behind her back.

Stepping closer, you moved her hair out of her neck, planting your lips on her soft skin and sucked for several seconds, careful not to leave a mark. You took each of her dress straps in your fingertips, playing with them as you looked deeply into her eyes.

She stared back as if to say do it as you pulled the top of her dress down to her waist in one swift movement, exposing her full supple breasts as they bounced freely. You kissed up her stomach, marking her soft skin with your mouth until you reached her large heavy breasts, practically drooling all over her chest.

It was regretful that you couldn’t spend the entire hour worshipping her perfect tits, lips closing around a sensitive nipple that had already hardened as you latched on, sucking gently while you squeezed her free breast.

“F-fuck, daddy,” Somi moaned, as you took your time in sucking her tits, enjoying the sounds of satisfaction she released as your lips wrapped around each of her nipples, covering them in your saliva.

You loved Somi’s huge breasts as much as you loved breathing, the threat of a deadline hovering over her almost didn’t deter as you devoured her breasts.

Your pants tightened as you alternated breasts, slurping loudly and slicking up her stiff pink nipples with your tongue, leaving them swollen and doused in drool as you gave equal attention.

“I wish I could suck these all day,” you said, giving a disappointed look as you kept your focus on her beautiful tits, squeezing and kneading them, never wanting to leave your hands from them.

“I want you to do just more than suck them, daddy,” Somi said, moaning at your touch. You simply couldn’t get enough of her delicious tits, biting her swollen nipples as she whined and threw her head back.

Somi’s attention shifted to the bulge in your pants, and without another word she lowered to her knees and began to undo your pants. Her needy hands cupped your crotch, giving a firm squeeze.

She looked up for a second before she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your thin boxers, yanking them down with power and unleashing your stiff erection as her eyes widened, her lips smiling hungrily.

Her gaze never broke as she rubbed your leaking tip on her stiff nipples, spreading precum on and using your shaft to slap her large breasts with your cock. Somi loved getting your hungry shaft ready for what she was about to do, but no amount of work would ever truly prepare you for what was next.

Somi opened her mouth without a word, spitting on your shaft several times and stroked your cock furiously, lubricating you nicely with her own saliva. She took control of your shaft, placing it in the comfort of her pillowy soft breasts, trapping it as you moaned at the warmth enveloping your hard shaft.

Her chest began moving slowly, massaging your throbbing shaft and causing a torrent of pleasure as she created orgasmic friction, causing your shaft to twitch. Your cock had no chance to escape, surrounded by flesh that wrapped around it, causing your breath to be taken away as several sensations flooded your body.

Somi had the biggest grin on her face as she squeezed her tits around your cock firmly, using her hands to cup them and make sure you weren’t going anywhere besides her abundant cleavage.

“How does it feel daddy? You love fucking my big tits, don’t you?” she pointlessly asked, picking up the pace just enough to drive you wild with intoxicating pleasure. Your eyes were glued to her huge tits, watching your cock disappearing, every inch of throbbing flesh being swallowed up by her lubricated cleavage.

“Fuck yes, baby. It feels so damn good,” you replied, matching her rhythm and helping pump your shaft in between her tits, so much warm flesh hugging you tight that never wanted to let you go.

You couldn’t help but moan freely at the intense pleasure. You loved the way your leaking cock felt snuggled in between her cleavage, you wanted it to stay there forever. Her breasts felt so soft, softer than silk as you thrusted endlessly, savoring every moment of ecstasy.

Somi loved the feeling of your hard cock trapped between her sizable tits just as much as you did, trying to lick the sensitive head of your cock when it showed itself again, adding additional spikes of pleasure each time she succeeded.

You were more than content to keep this up, keep the incredible pleasure going until you couldn’t take anymore, but things were just getting started.

“Daddy…” Somi whined, moving her breasts up and down as you thrusted in her deep suffocating cleavage.

“What is it, baby?”

“I want to suck your cock. I’m still hungry,” she said, anxiously waiting for permission.

“So suck my cock.”

Somi gave an ear to ear grin as you pumped yourself in between her chest a handful more times as she slowly let your cock slip out of her tits, rubbing it between her wet cleavage. Her delicate small hand wrapped around your shaft, throbbing at her touch as she stroked your cock up and down gently from base to tip.

"You're so hard, daddy,” Somi hummed, pumping your shaft and squeezing it tighter as you leaked over her slender fingers, giving your shaft a single solitary lick from base to tip, proudly tasting your precum.

“So yummy,” she said, giving repeated licks of your cock, teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, causing more fluids to leak out of your slit.

You would have loved Somi to spend more time teasing your cock, but time was of the essence here. She planted a soft wet kiss on your swollen tip, followed by another, kissing up and down your throbbing shaft and leaving her lips everywhere she could.

“This is much better than our catering,” Somi giggled, her voice full of desire and need, her wet tongue roaming every inch of your shaft. She pressed her lips on your flesh for one more deep kiss, causing a loud smacking sound to escape.

Her beautiful lips parted as the head of your cock disappeared inside her mouth, Somi sucking ever so softly on your tip and nothing more, causing you to groan softly at the intense sudden pleasure.

“Fuck, baby…”

Nothing ever matched the way Somi sucked your cock. Her small soft lips wrapped tightly around your cock, staring intently at you as her cheeks hollowed, applying the perfect amount of suction. Her mouth felt incredible, warm and wet in all the right ways. She took you deeper into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down in a short rhythm and as she held her gaze.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, scrambling for something to anchor yourself to. Thankfully you were inches away from the nearest countertop, finding the edge and gripping it tightly as Somi pleasured your cock expertly.

“I love sucking your cock so much, daddy,” Somi said as she lowered her head, nudging her nose against the base of your cock as she gave a few teasing licks on your tender balls.

“I love the way I can feel it throbbing inside my mouth. I love the way it tastes, it makes me so fucking wet, daddy.”

Somi’s filthy words aroused you even more as she dove her mouth onto your sensitive balls, tenderly sucking on them individually with just as much hunger. She kept a tight grip on your cock, giving slow strokes that accentuated your pleasure until your balls were doused in her warm saliva.

The combination of pleasure made you groan endlessly as she withdrew her lips from your balls after a few loud slurps, carefully fondling them.

“They feel so full. Is all this cum for me, daddy?” she asked, returning her focus to pleasuring your shaft, spitting on it several times and stroking it.

“Every last drop. They’re ready to be drained, baby.”

“I can’t wait, I want a nice big load inside me, daddy.”

Somi gave an approving smile, taking you back in the comfort of her wet mouth and sucking you off loud and wetly, lips almost to the very base of your shaft and leaving a glistening trail of saliva that followed.

Given the circumstances Somi wasn’t able to take her time with much regret. In a matter of moments she was furiously bobbing her head and taking every inch, letting out a shallow gag with every few strokes. She never quite conquered her gag reflex but didn’t seem bothered, she was just happy with every second her throat was filled.

Somi poured all her energy into giving you such a mind-numbing blowjob, moving her lips from tip to base, spilling saliva out of her mouth, covering your shaft in it. Her lips rested at the end of your shaft as her cute nose pressed against your stomach, smiling with a mouth full of a cock.

She came up for air, saliva dripping down her chin that she didn’t bother to wipe, her expression lust-filled.

“Fuck my face if you want,” she invited, taking your shaft and smacking herself in the face with it, rubbing it on her cheeks and lustfully grinning.

“I’d hate to ruin your makeup,” you replied, the one and only time you had that concern. Somi’s expression was full of disappointment, her smile fading and forming a pout.

“That’s the point,” she said, matter-of-factly. “My makeup artist can fix it later. She gets paid too fucking much anyways.”

Well, that settled that. Somi went back to slobbering on your cock as you placed your hands on both sides of her head, running your fingers through strands of hair and started thrusting inside her pretty mouth.

Consequences be damned, you were going to fulfill Somi’s wishes and desires, thrusting your hips back and forth and sliding every inch of your shaft down her tight warm throat.

Satisfied grunts and moans escaped your lips as you used Somi’s mouth for your pleasure, gagging her with your length as you struck the back of her throat to the point of tears from your forceful use, only encouraging you to give harsher thrusts.

“If only everyone knew what I was doing to you,” you said as Somi kept her mouth wide open for you as you furiously fucked her gorgeous face, slapping your full balls against her chin as she held onto your thighs and slurped hungrily.

“I bet that director had no idea what a cock-hungry little slut he hired did he?” you said, using Somi’s mouth as your personal toy, the constant sounds of gags and erotic slurps filling the small room as your pleasure sky-rocketed.

“Or your stylist unnie, she has no idea her cute innocent model loves choking on cock does she?”

Somi hummed around your cock in satisfaction, the vibration spiking your pleasure as you forced your cock down her throat, streaks of mascara starting to run and drip down her face.

Her makeup artist would certainly have her work cut out for her.

That wasn’t enough for you as you thrusted harder down her throat, slamming every inch nonstop without mercy, drool spilling out of her mouth and dripping onto her beautiful exposed tits as she choked and gagged on your needy cock.

“Take it all, baby,” you growled, holding the back of her head firmly against your crotch, not

caring if she could breathe or not. You desperately wanted to fill her messy warm mouth with cum, coating the back of her throat with it, but that dress looked so fucking sexy on her and you had other plans.

Instead, you savored the intoxicating warmth of her mouth for a few more thrusts, slowly withdrawing your drool-covered shaft as several lines of messy wet spit ejected from her lips, connecting to your swollen tip.

Somi gasped for air, rubbing her drool-covered face all over your wet shaft as she got the treatment she deserved, gargling the leftover saliva and spitting it onto your already drenched shaft.

You smirked at what you saw, once perfectly brushed hair was disheveled and out of place. Her eyes were still filled with tears, whatever leftover mascara she had staining her cheeks, drool glistening on her chin and her chest, an absolutely beautiful mess.

If only her staff could see her like this.

“Was I a good little slut, daddy?”

You nodded proudly and grabbed her dainty wrists and gently helped her to her feet, sharing intense eye contact as you kept the anticipation in the air high.

“I want to fucking ruin you,” you said, squeezing her breasts again, the drool coated on them making them glistening in the lights.

“Do it, please. Fuck me like the whore I am, daddy,” Somi begged, flashing the deepest set of fuck me eyes you had ever seen. You had gotten this far without getting caught, there was no reason to stop.

The dressing room was small with just two countertops, mirrors resting on top of each one waist high, used beauty products still scattered on both surfaces.

There weren’t that many options, no chairs in sight and the floor looked dirty and unkempt as it most likely hadn’t been touched in months if not longer. The counters provided ample space, but not enough for what you needed.

Somi looked at her designer watch she still had kept left on, and you saw you had ten minutes left before they would be looking for her. Plenty of time.

“How do you want it, baby?” you asked as you hiked her green dress up, surprised to see she had on a dark pair of blue panties for once.

“I don’t care, daddy, as long as you’re rough with me,” she said, biting her lip. You couldn’t help but smirk, roaming her tight body with her hands as you gripped her wide hips, harshly spinning her around as she gasped in delight.

“P-please, daddy. I need you. I need to be fucked so bad,” she pleaded, her eyes wide and bright. You kissed her bare shoulders, planting your lips behind her neck and whispered into her ear.

“I want you to watch me ravaging your pretty little cunt, baby.”

Somi dripped between her thighs and her muscles tensed up as you slid her skimpy thong to the side, exposing her gorgeous pussy to you, pink flesh dripping with arousal.

“O-of course, daddy,” Somi said, bending over the makeup countertop, sticking her plump round ass out and placing her palms flat on the surface, ready and willing to be taken right there.

Had there not been time restraints placed, you would have loved to make her beg and tease her pussy until she was as needy as could be, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option right now.

You spread her long legs, grabbing your throbbing shaft and rubbing her aching sensitive clit, pressing it against Somi’s hot wet flesh as she looked back, eyes full of desire.

“Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me like a whore.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second and pushed yourself in deep, her warmth suffocating you as you sank inside every inch of hot flesh, her cunt clenching hard as she moaned loudly. You didn’t waste time, thrusting immediately without any build-up, harshly gripping her hips as you began fucking her tight body from behind.

“Oh my god, daddy,” Somi moaned, her erotic expression visible in the mirror. Your rhythm was frantic from the very start, pistoning your hips and smacking them against her beautiful ass, causing her cheeks to ripple with every stroke.

“Such a tight little whore aren’t you? You like your pretty pussy stretched like this, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy! You’re so fucking big, pound me daddy, pound me with your big fucking cock.”

“I’d fucking love to,” you replied, grabbing a rough handful of hair and wrapping your fingers around it, forming a ponytail and yanking back hard on it, tugging her head back. Her pussy clenched as she looked directly into the mirror, her eyes barely able to keep open as her mouth let out nothing but needy moans.

“Watch yourself, baby. Watch what I’m going to do to my pretty little cumslut.”

“Y-yes, daddy. R-ruin my pussy, please. Fuck my tight little hole until you blow your load in it!”

Somi’s filthy mouth only served to bring out your carnal desires, increasing your pace rapidly as you slammed her body against the counter, causing her back to arch perfectly as she screamed in delight. You really hoped the dressing room was far enough away from the rest of the staff to not be heard, but at this point you didn’t give a shit if they were listening right outside the door.

“F-fuck me harder daddy, p-please fuck me like the naughty whore I am!”

Your strong grip tightened on her hips, firmly pressing both thumbs into her toned back hard enough that you’re pretty sure was going to leave a bruising mark, one of the myriad of things Somi was going to have to figure out how to explain.

“Treat me like your pretty little fucktoy and break me!”

You watched intently in the mirror in front of you as Somi’s expressive features grew more contorted by the second, her lips only able to form breathless whiny moans and several strings of profanity.

Her pussy tightened to the point of almost causing pain, your shaft being lubricated thoroughly by her abundant slick that dripped down her thighs as you gave it your all, watching her breasts bouncing in the mirror in a way that hypnotized you into a trance.

“Choke me, daddy. Please, fucking choke your whore,” Somi said, as you seemed to be taken aback by every new sentence that left her lips.

You didn’t know what had gotten into her, but you didn’t have time to care as you dropped the bundle of hair you had, bringing the same hand to the front of her body, fondling one of her breasts before finding her warm, soft neck and wrapping your fingers around her throat and giving a gentle squeeze.

“More,” she demanded, and placed her small hand on the back of your own, increasing the pressure as she felt more airflow being restricted, thriving off the feeling she felt.

Somi’s dripping hot pussy pulsated wildly as you pumped into her, keeping a hand on her delicate throat as you looked at the sight in the mirror, something you’d never forget. Her chosen dress barely still on, mascara stains still visible underneath her eyes, her breasts bouncing deliciously with every rock of your hips as you choked her.

Somi kept her eyes focused straight ahead and loved every second of it.

It was hard to remember where you were, that this was still a designated break for Somi and that she would still have to return to work in a few short moments. Yet, you continued to pound into her tight cunt, giving such powerful hard thrusts she was liable to forget her own name.

“God, you’re so fucking deep inside my tight little pussy. Don’t stop fucking me, daddy, use me until you’re done with me!” Somi said, her words becoming an unrecognizable slur that all ran together.

Her warm wet walls grew wetter the harder you drilled her as the room became an orchestra of pleasure - the wet squelch of her pussy, harsh sounds of flesh smacking against flesh, and the constant rising volume of her loud needy moans and gasps, every second that went by without a knock on the door caused a sense of relief.

That satisfying smack of flesh grew louder and louder as you released your grip on her throat. earning a whimpering moan. Your hands weren’t kept idle as you grabbed Somi’s arms and pulled them back, gripping her wrists as her back arched even more, hammering into her pussy with as much energy as you could exert.

“Oh f-fuck, daddy! D-don’t stop, don’t stop fucking your slutty little whore!” Somi said, her clouded eyes barely able to watch herself in the mirror as you saw her vacant stare. You used her slender arms as handles to fuck her senseless, feeling her gripping pussy squeezing the life out of your cock as it pulsated wildly as the stale air in the small tight room grew hotter.

“I’m going t-to cum, daddy! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy-”

Somi didn’t even have time to finish her sentence, her body already trembling, her held back arms shaking as her pussy tightened even more. Her hips bucked, toes curling into her expensive heels as she shrieked, juices flooding out of her cunt as she came the hardest she had in some time.

You didn’t let up, not that she would have wanted you to as you fucked her through her intense orgasm, pounding away and maintaining the same breakneck pace, harsh stroke after harsh stroke into her heat.

Somi's constantly clenching pussy sent tingles up your spine, and you weren't that far off from your own release if the aching tightness in your balls was anything to go by.

"I'm gonna fucking fill your needy cunt with cum, baby," you hissed, not asking for permission, hooking her arms and bringing her body upright until her back was pressing against your chest, making sure she wasn't going anywhere.

"P-please cum inside me, daddy. Cum inside your filthy little whore! Please, daddy, dump your huge thick load inside my slutty wet pussy, please!"

You loved using Somi like this, her pussy begging for cum as you railed her without mercy, the use of her arms taken from her and nothing to hold on to and at your mercy, taking every thrust into her body and pleading for more. You watched her lustful expression in the mirror as her breasts never stopped bouncing, chasing that sweet release you both desperately wanted.

It wouldn't be much longer now, your hips smacking harshly against her ass as her cunt was fucked so hard she would definitely have trouble not only walking out of her but for the next few days. Savoring every thrust into Somi’s tight warm body, you never let up, keeping the pace as fast your limbs allowed you to move until you finally were pushed over the edge.

“I’m fucking cumming!”

It took less than a handful of thrusts as you buried yourself in Somi’s wet warmth, groaning loudly as you spilled your seed deep into her cunt, throbbing with each shot of hot cum that you emptied into her inviting body, filling her to the absolute brim.

You used the last remaining energy in your body, hips tiredly working until you had no more to deposit in her. Thoroughly drained you never stopped thrusting, trying to fuck your hot deep as it possibly could go, spilling every drop into her womb.

Your moments slowed down little by little until they halted completely as you released her arms as she collapsed against the counter, both of you spent, filled with fatigue and gasping for air, an equally exhausted mess of bodies.

You rested inside her for one final moment, wanting to savor her smothering warmth for as long as possible as you gave her ass a quick smack and slowly pulled out, a flowing stream of thick semen dripping out of her roughly used pussy, staining her beautiful thighs.

“H-holy shit, d-daddy, you fucked me so well,” she said, her words trembling as you slid her thong back in place and pulled her dress down as she turned around to face you.”

“You asked me to.”

“I’m going to be so sore,” Somi smiled as she leaned in and kissed your lips, her bare breasts pressing against your chest.

Your breathing resumed gradually as you wiped the sweat off your brow. You wanted to say something but were rudely interrupted by a voice from the intercom.

“Jeon Somi to the set please!”

The two of you frowned as Somi took one more step, lips locking on to yours deeply, gasping for air as they withdrew.

“You really made me a mess, daddy,” she said proudly, as she pulled her top back up, trying to fix her hair as best as she could.

“I better get cleaned up. Fuck me again after I finish up?”

“Of course, baby.”

She kissed you on the cheek as she made her exit, walking gingerly and taking slow, tired steps out of the room.

You felt a little guilty that her staff would have to put in so much extra work, but that was their problem not yours. The fact that your load would be dripping out of her for the rest of the photo shoot, just the thought putting a smirk on your face.

You pulled your pants back up, stopping by the nearest bathroom to try and fix your hair, freshening yourself up before heading back.

Somi had a lot of explaining to do.

[221bshrlocked]

taste you on my tongue

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 9441 (I can’t fucking write anything shorter I’m sorry)

Warnings: Angst and Smut. Helmet is on and then it’s off. Oral (male receiving). Soft then rough sex. Breeding kink. Touch kink. Hand kink? Dirty/Sweet Talk. Mando feels primal when he sees you wearing his shirt and flirting with someone that isn’t him.

Summary: The Revenant was a fairly spacious gunship compared to others and you prided yourself in keeping it running for this long, especially after you were told it would soon lose its “life force.” But when a certain Mandalorian and his foundling join your ship following a disastrous mission, you find that the Revenant isn’t as big as you initially thought. In fact, it is much less private than you wish to admit and you find yourself escaping to a cantina one night to avoid the bounty hunter who isn’t aware of the effect he has on you. The problem is, the Mandalorian doesn’t like to share anything with anyone, and that rule applies to you. Unfortunately (or perhaps luckily) for you, you learn about this rule the hard way.

A/N: I hope yall like these because I’m currently spiraling down a Din Djarin hole and I’m not remotely apologetic. Let me know how it is in the comments and how I can make the smut better or the characterization better. Please, I can’t improve unless yall tell me what I’m doing wrong. Also, I promise to write more smut than angst next time. Enjoy :) And @purple-mango​ sorry it wasn’t as rough as you probably hoped, I was feeling soft Din but mark my words, the next one will be rough.

The obnoxious laughter coming from one of the corners of the cantina made you shake your head as the tavern-keeper approached you and motioned towards your glass. He smiled when you enthusiastically nodded and held out the finished drink, silently asking him to pour some more of the Tevraki whiskey because there was nothing you wanted more than to forget the past few months.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was something, or rather someone, that you wanted more than your need to set aside what’s been going on since that shitshow of a showdown on Tatooine. Coincidentally, or perhaps ironically, that someone had to do with what happened on the desert planet. You smiled at the man in front of you who knew better than to argue about how many drinks you’ve downed thus far. 

As the thoughts slithered back to the source of your frustration, you couldn’t help but let your eyes take in your surroundings, shamelessly hoping to find someone who could fill that deep-seated need seeping through your chest and into your heart. No one would compare to him of course, and you knew that very well. But you couldn’t stand another hour on that ship without scratching that itch that’s been bothering you ever since he joined your ship with that annoyingly cute green goblin. You took a sip and returned your attention to the man wiping down the counter in front of you, already thinking of just skipping all the pleasantries and going back to his place.

“If you point him out to me, I can pay him a visit later and roughen him up a bit.” He leaned over and pointed behind you, pouring himself a shot of some weird blue drink before moving in closer to you again.

“Sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not understanding what he was referring to or if you had even begun a conversation with him.

“The sleemo that rejected you sweetheart. Why else would you be drowning in my best stuff?” He winked at you and you barely managed to not visibly gag at the ways his eyes raked over your form. Did he think this was the way to flirt?

“Maybe I just love drinking liquid fire, sweetheart. Have you thought of that?” You hoped you weren’t being too sarcastic with him because if there was the slightest chance of getting laid tonight, then you were going to do everything in your power to take it and run considering how there was no chance of you asking your now-permanent “roommate” for those kinds of services. 

“Maybe. Either way, I’d love to help you forget about that sucker.” You took a deep breath and willed yourself to not punch him in the eye because the thought of being able to forget about the beskar-clad bounty hunter, even for a few hours only, sounded incredibly pleasant.

“Oh aren’t you sweet? So selfless and confident too.” You forced a smile before downing the rest of the whiskey and tapping on the glass again. If you were going to get fucked by someone like him, you needed at least three more drinks or else you wouldn’t be able to imagine the Mandalorian in his place. You chuckled at the depressing thought because here you were trying to forget about the man himself and yet went out of your way to make sure you were sort of able to pretend he was the one showing you the stars. 

“Believe me darling, my intentions are strictly...honorable.” He poured you another drink and took a shot with you, his eyes widening in shock when you didn’t bother to wait another second before downing the whole glass in one go. 

“Damn baby, he hurt you that bad?” You raised an eyebrow at his inquiry and didn’t know why the question bothered you so much. As much as you hated to admit it, the answer was a hard yes. 

“Hah, hurt doesn’t even begin to cover it. And you know what the worst part is? He doesn’t even know he’s doing it.” You didn’t bother to ask him for another drink, jumping on top of the counter before leaning down and grabbing the whiskey bottle from the shelf right in front of his knees. 

“You mean he’s still here?” He didn’t question your behavior, letting you take a long sip from the bottle before smiling down at your dazed expression. 

“Here. There. Everywhere. He’s fucking everywhere all the damn time. I...he’s- maker...I can’t get him out of my kriffing mind. And the funny thing is, he probably doesn’t waste a second of thought on me. I’m just...someone with a fucking ride that can get him from one planet to the next.” You traced random patterns on the cold tile of the counter and didn’t realize that someone had occupied the seat just opposite of you and trying his hardest to ignore the way the patrons across the room continued to stare at you like you were a piece of meat. 

“Darling, he isn’t worth your time. You need someone that...appreciates you. Tells you how good you’ve been.” You knew the man in front of you was just saying those lovely things to get in your pants but you couldn’t help the next few words from stopping even if you tried.

“Yes...gods, yes. Yes I do. But I wanted him to appreciate me. I wanted him to tell me how good I’ve been. I can’t blame him for not bothering to thank me though because it’s hard for him to hold a conversation longer than five minutes. I get that, he’s not used to it, he hasn’t needed to for so long. But it wouldn't hurt to acknowledge me every once in a while you know. I mean, do you know anyone else who’d willingly put their entire life on hold just to help some random introvert and his child find their way through this kriffing shithole of a system?” You knew you shouldn’t be saying any of those things out loud, let alone to a complete stranger. But he struck a nerve and you couldn’t take not another minute of not telling anyone how you truly felt. You needed to get some things off your chest and you sure as hell weren’t about to complain to the man waiting for you back on the ship.  

“And- and do you know anyone that would readily give up their most valuable position in this world to a stranger they just met? I don’t.” You violently shook your head at him and felt your eyes fill with tears when you saw the way the man was looking at you. His eyes shot down to the bottle in your hand and you unceremoniously raised it to your lips before taking a long swig of the burning liquid, hoping by some miracle that this was enough to make you forget all about his stupid strut and his annoyingly low and gruff voice and the way he was so effortlessly kind to the kid.

“That ship. It’s- oh gah, it’s been with me through the worst fucking jobs. I fought for it, almost sold my kriffing bo-...almost sold something priceless to ensure it isn’t taken from me again. And it only takes some damn beskar-wearing, quiet, fucking who-knows-what-species nerfherder to save me once for me to voluntarily hand it over to him. Like it wasn’t a piece of me...like it wasn’t my home.” You were over sharing at this point and you noticed the way the man was beginning to lose interest in you  so you made sure to grab his shirt and pull him closer to you before grabbing his forearm and digging your nails into it to keep his attention.

“Have you heard of the Revenant? You must have heard of the Revenant. There is no way you haven’t-”

“Yes, yes. I’ve heard of it.” He was exasperated but continued to attend to you, shamelessly letting his eyes follow a drop of whiskey roll down your shirt in between the valley of your breasts. You fixed your posture, pushing your tits together and giving him an eyeful of skin before ranting to him again.

“That’s my baby. My pride and joy. I always made sure everyone at the dock knew who it belonged to. Know why?” You grabbed his hand and pulled on it to make sure he was listening to you, laughing when he tiredly leaned down and forced himself to look away from your sweaty chest to your eyes. 

“Enlighten me sweetheart.”

“Because it’s one of the biggest gunships out there. So much space that I don’t actually use. It’s a fucking beauty...but you know what? It’s all a lie. A sad, unfortunate lie. Because it took me spending the better half of the year with that kid and his tincan of a guardian to realize just how small it is. It’s like he put his mark on every corner of my home on purpose...just to drive me insane. Every time I sit somewhere where I’m sure he wouldn’t bother to come to, I’d still smell that- that...that fucking scent of his that I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what it is.” You had thankfully placed the whiskey bottle away from you and didn’t try to fight the tavern-keeper when he took it and put it back on the shelf, instantly returning to you to make sure you weren’t about to break anything.

“I even gave him my room. My room! Because ‘no one can see my face’ so he needs some privacy away from me but then there’s the whole ‘the child stays with me all the time’ and that womp rat can sleep in the little cot in my room with him while also giving him some privacy. Which leaves me, you guessed it, in the shitty lower deck where there is no door, not even a curtain, to give me some semblance of solitude.” You didn’t realize how harshly you were breathing until you stopped speaking and noticed the way the stranger continued to look at you. 

“It has been a literal hell not being able to get myself off because he can walk in on me at any given moment. Picture that, not getting off for almost a year while being forced to remain in the same vicinity as him.” You didn’t care when you saw the man almost choke on his drink at your bold admission and looked around to make sure no one heard you. “Ughh, you’ve been such a good boy listening to me whining all night long and I think you deserve a treat.” You knew you had him as soon as he shivered at the way your fingers moved beneath his shirt and scratched his neck. “You look like the kind of guy that could fuck me within an inch of my life. Right?”

“Ah huh. Y-yeah.” He licked his lips before setting down the towel in his hands and inching closer towards you. And you silently swore at how absolutely pathetic he was because not a minute ago, he was trying to find a way out of this conversation and here he was thinking with his probably-disappointing dick. 

“Good. And I promise to make it worth your while if you manage to make me forget his name.” You leaned across the counter and were about to kiss him when you saw something move across your peripheral vision, something that looked oddly familiar to your completely hazed mind. 

“And what’s his name, baby? So I make sure you can’t rememb-” Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, you felt a large hand wrap around your upper arm and pull you back from the bartender and off of the stool. You almost tripped as you struggled to stand and huffed in anger before raising your voice to the distinguished individual who thought this was the time to fuck with you. 

“Hey what are y-” You were about to take a swing at whoever it was currently bruising your arm when you followed the glint of the familiar metal and were met with your reflection staring right back at you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you blinked in confusion a few times at the visor currently tilted in an almost judgemental manner at you before attempting to wipe your hair with your other hand.

The Mandalorian slowly changed his focus to the man behind the bar and threw a few credits at him, hands immediately lowering to the blaster in his side holster when he saw where the tavern-keeper’s eyes moved towards. The stranger could only hold up his hand in defeat before walking towards the other side of the bar to lick his invisible wounds. The Mandalorian’s helmet turned to the rest of the cantina, daring anyone to approach the two of you before you left. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to follow the two of you as you returned to the Revenant. He could feel his patience withering away with every passing moment you decided to share what’s on your mind with the rest of the universe but him. 

“Let me go.” You whispered to him, eyes maintained to the ground and cringing when you felt his hold on your arm tighten at the request. Before you could ask him again, Mando was turning around and walking out of the busy cantina, pulling you along with him aggressively and not leaving any room for negotiation. You winced as he pulled you like a child through the streets, avoiding the concerned and intrigued looks you were receiving. He was much taller than you and you laughed when you realized it must have been a sight to see some random woman getting dragged along by an angry bounty hunter. Mando couldn’t help but turn towards you when he heard your giggles break the silence, his annoyance spiking because there was absolutely nothing humorous about this situation. 

You noticed the way he was staring at you and decided to quiet down, swallowing the lump in your throat as the cold air hit your sweaty skin and made you shiver. 

As you moved closer to the ship, you realized there was a chance he heard what you had to say about him and your ship. Hurt and anxiety rose up your throat and before you could attempt and control the all too familiar feeling, you were tripping over your feet and falling to the ground, instantly vomiting everything you’d managed to eat and drink in the last couple of hours. 

The Mandalorian hoped his obviously misplaced outrage wasn’t what led you to such a violent reaction, and he kneeled down immediately to hold your hair away from your face. When he saw tears falling down your cheeks and how hard you were breathing beneath him, something snapped in his chest and he knew he was definitely the reason behind this severe response. 

“Don’t- oh gah….kriffing look at me.” You spat in between words and turned away from him, holding onto your stomach and to the grass beneath you as you continued to empty your stomach in the middle of the forest. At least you weren’t in the city anymore. 

“We’re close to the ship,” he didn’t know what else to say and chose to state the obvious instead, afraid of using a harsher tone with you. Actually, he did know what to say, he just didn’t trust himself to speak the words out loud yet.

“Wopty fucking doo for-” once again, you opened your mouth and dry heaved until you were sure there wasn’t a single drop of whiskey in your system, “you and your stupid kriffing-” 

“Please Ad'ika, let me-” You visibly shook at the familiar endearment you’ve heard him whisper to the child so often when he thought you weren’t around. It hurt to know he was throwing it around as if he wasn’t twisting the knife inside your heart with every breath he took near you. 

“Let m-me go, p-please.” Mando’s sudden intake of breath was as loud as the silence engulfing the two of you and you swallowed your pride before looking into his visor, well aware of how awful you must have looked without the reflection staring back at you. He, on the other hand, grasped in that moment just how deep your words in the cantina were and instead of listening to you and allowing you a moment alone, he took a deep breath before softly pushing back your hair and wrapping one arm around your waist. You didn’t have any time to question him as the other went beneath your thighs and before you knew it, you were holding onto his cowl for dear life as he quietly walked up the ramp of the Revenant with you in his arms. 

Mando pushed in the code to shut the hatch before making his way through the quiet halls of the ship, reaching hi- your room and going straight to the bed he has occupied in the last few months. As he put you down, he took notice of your body language and knew instantly how self-conscious you must have felt laying on the bed he’s been using since he joined you. The same bed which you sort of commented about not an hour ago. He watched as you forced a smile as soon as you saw the familiar green little womp rat peeking its head right before descending from the safety of his crib and wobbling towards you. 

You tried to leave the bed but Mando was ahead of you, gently pushing your shoulder until you realized there was no room for arguing with him. Leaning down, he took the kid and put him back in the crib before telling him he couldn’t cuddle with you tonight. 

You kept your hands clasped together and refused to look at him, eyes taking in the room no longer familiar to you. He’d moved things around, even put things away that he didn’t need. Your gaze shifted towards him unintentionally as you saw him approach you with a cup of water and wet towel. Pushing the covers towards you, he sat near your thighs as he handed you the water and began to softly wipe at your cheeks and forehead. 

You shut your eyes out of fear of giving more away just by staring at his visor and Mando thanked the stars you had because he wasn’t sure he could truly look at you if they were still open. It was a ridiculous thought because he was wearing a mask and you’d never know how much he loved committing all those little muscle twitches to memory. But it felt strangely intimate to return your gaze and he didn’t want to make you any more uncomfortable tonight. 

You sighed heavily at his touch and felt pathetic at how starved you were for anything that had to do with him. The man was wearing gloves and wasn’t technically trailing his fingers over your skin but it still felt difficult to contain yourself.

When he was done, he stood up and moved to the refresher, giving you a few moments alone before he imposed on you again. You gulped down the water and placed the cup on the floor near you, looking out of the large window to your right and noticing the dark blue skies moving slowly above you. It took you a few minutes to recognize that what you were feeling was no longer hurt but confusion. He’s acted so differently tonight and you hated to think it was because he was pitying you. It didn’t matter anymore whether he’d heard what you said about him or not. He would have found out sooner or later, and if you were being honest, you felt like he probably had some inclination for a while before but chose to not bring any attention to the topic to save you from embarrassment and rejection.

“Get some rest.” You turned towards him again, not realizing he’d come back into the room and was standing right beside you. Mando tried his hardest not to give away any of his thoughts but you knew what he was thinking as soon as you saw his helmet tilt down just below your neck. 

When you followed his line of sight, you felt ill again but for a completely different reason. Of course this would get worse. You weren’t planning on seeing him tonight and you told yourself you’d have plenty of time to change out of his shirt but it seemed that the universe was not making this any easier on you. Mando couldn’t stop staring at the shirt wrapped so loosely around your smooth skin and how large it looked on you. If he was a decent man, he would have turned away when he saw you shifting uncomfortably under his gaze but he couldn’t help taking in the way your body seemed to react to his presence and before he could think about it, he was stepping closer to the bed and reaching out to touch the material of his shirt falling down your shoulder.

“I- I’m sorry about your s-” The words died in your throat when you felt his gloved fingers trailing down your exposed clavicle and you were torn between asking him what he was doing and letting him carry on without interrupting his curiosity. Mando barely held himself back from pushing you down into the covers and taking what he now knew was his but he noticed the sudden goosebumps erupt on your skin and finally managed to meet your eyes through the visor. The way you were returning his gaze was perhaps too much for him and he flinched away from you, clearing his throat and willing himself to think of anything else but the way you were practically begging him to take you. You parted your lips to say something but couldn’t find your voice, afraid you’d push him more than he could take and drive him away all together. 

“It’s fine. It’s...I don’t mi- forget about it. You need to rest.” He spoke softly before walking towards the cot nearby and pushing the crib out of the door. 

“Wh-where will you sleep?” You sat up and knew he noticed how much you were holding onto every single interaction with him.

“Good night,” he didn’t bother to respond to the question, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind him before making his way to the cockpit. You sat in silence for a few moments before slithering under the covers, sighing in annoyance when you noticed just how much this entire room smelled like him. Pushing your face into the pillow, you took a deep breath and felt shaken to the core when you were hit with Mando’s distinctive scent: sweat, beskar, and that damn featherfern wash he somehow found every time you flew by Nevarro. 

As you looked out the metal blinds, you tried to brace yourself for the conversation you were most definitely going to have with the Mandalorian the next day. You knew for a fact that whatever decision he’d take will ultimately hurt you because there were really only two options available, one of which involved him and the child leaving and the other would lead to them staying but making things awkward since there was not a single chance he would reciprocate your feelings. 

And the worst part was, you weren’t sure which was more painful.

The Mandalorian sat quietly in the cockpit for a while, making sure you were asleep so as to not wake you up as he moved through the Revenant. Seeing that the kid was fast asleep, he found himself leaving the small space and navigating to the lower deck. He passed by your room and noticed the lights were off, sighing in relief at knowing that you were finally resting comfortably. Arriving at the lower deck, he stood at the entrance of the large room and felt his chest tighten once he took in the state of the space. Turning on the lights, he immediately noticed your makeshift cot in the far right corner, unable to stop himself from moving towards it to inspect it. He shook his head in anger but this time it was aimed at himself and not you or the random tavern keeper who couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. 

How did he not know of this arrangement? And why did he not ask about your sleeping situation the day he joined your ship? Was he truly that unconcerned with anyone else but the kid or was it because he was reluctant to listen to Peli when she recommended you?

He’d only been in the lower deck for a few moments yet he felt his skin crawl with goosebumps. It was awfully cool down here and it took him another ten seconds to acknowledge that you’ve been living and sleeping here for this long without complaining once to him. 

Everything you said about him earlier tonight crashed into him like a wave of guilt and he couldn’t stay in the room any longer, making his way back to the upper deck to try and figure out what he would say to you come tomorrow. As he slowly moved through the dark hallways of the Revenant, he heard a faint voice coming from the upper deck, muscles tensing instantly when he walked past your room and noticed you weren’t on the bed.

Not wanting to disturb you, he waited right outside the cockpit and listened to you humming to the child. He must have woken up and found his way back to you. As he crossed his arms and stood behind the door, he couldn’t help but notice how soft your voice was as you continued to sing a lullaby to the little womp rat. 

How could he have not noticed…

“There you go, you little green goblin. If only I could sleep as quickly as you.” You whispered to him before tucking him into the crib while continuing to rub his abnormally large ears. “Your dad is really funny...thinking I’d be able to sleep in that room with his scent all over it.” 

Maker, how were you so forthright with everyone but him? It hurt to know that he wasn’t someone you could whisper your little secrets to. Then again, it made sense since all of your secrets seemed to involve him.

“I pray he doesn’t tell me he has to leave now that he knows I...ughh, for both of our sakes little one.” Mando noticed the way you seemed incapable of finishing your sentences whenever you spoke about him and a deep part of him wished you would, if only to hear the adoration in your words. Rarely anyone spoke of him so softly and he had a feeling he’d only ever accept such words from you. It was quiet for a few minutes before he heard you whisper to the kid again. 

“It just hurts to know that he’ll never see me as...as a-” He wasn’t sure if it was the heartbreaking tone of your voice or if it was the way you were reluctant to say your heart’s desire out loud but Mando couldn’t stand another second of you thinking you weren’t important to him.

“As a what?” His voice came out harsher through the vocoder and he winced at himself when he vaguely heard you jumping from the chair. A soft hiss came from the cockpit and he took a deep breath when he realized you’d just shut the crib and moved to leave the room. As you stepped out, Mando forced his eyes to remain on your face, refusing to look at your exposed legs or the way his shirt seemed to end right beneath your upper thighs.

Softly shutting the door, you walked to the opposite side of the room and knew the Mandalorian must have noticed your need to put as much space between the two of you as possible. 

“We need to stop running into each other like this,” you laughed awkwardly and anxiously ringed your fingers, glancing at his visor before turning away and looking everywhere else but him. Okay, so humor wasn’t going to get you out of this situation. 

“How’s your head?” You could feel how on edge he was and decided to answer with short and straightforward responses just to avoid any more awkwardness. 

“M-much clearer.” You stood in silence until you heard the Mandalorian pushing off of the opposite wall and heading towards you. You didn’t have anywhere to go, eyes snapping to the door right behind him and knowing there was no way you could try to walk around him.

He stopped a couple of feet away from you and you ceased to breathe when you noticed how awfully close he was to you. 

“Answer my question.” His voice was dangerously low and you found it difficult to try and think of anything to say when he was giving you no room to breathe. 

“I- I did?” Your voice was far from confident and you watched as he gently took off both of his gloves before shoving them into his pockets. Even though he willingly removed them in front of you, you didn’t allow yourself to look at his skin, afraid you’d somehow offend him and his Creed. But then you saw his hand move towards your face, and gasped when you felt his fingers tilting your chin so you were looking into his visor. There was not an inclination of an emotion available to you but you forced yourself to keep your eyes open nonetheless. 

“How do you want me to see you Mesh'la?” Mando whispered down to you and you swore his voice was hoarse as he spoke to you but you didn’t allow this moment to get to your head. It would hurt more than anything if…

“It d-doesn’t matter.” You blinked away the tears, wanting to wipe your face before anymore were shed but not finding it in yourself to move away from him. But then you felt his thumb softly rubbing at your wet skin, making you almost lose your composure as soon as he stepped closer in your space until your back hit the wall. 

“I’m sorry Cyar'ika,” his chest was inches from your face, cornering you beneath his other arm before leaning down and resting his forehead against yours. You couldn’t breath, not when he was suddenly filling all of your senses as if it was the most natural thing to do. He felt your tears roll around his thumb and couldn’t bear the thought of you crying because of him.

“I’m sorry for making you think you don’t matter...you do, not just to the kid but- but to me as well.” Your knees gave out on you as soon as you heard Mando’s confession, barely managing to grab onto his forearms right before buckling against him. The Mandalorian wasn’t sure if that was the kind of reaction he was looking for but he immediately wrapped his arms around your back and legs before pulling you against his chest. You nuzzled into his chest and kept a tight hold on him as he walked through the dimly lit hallways back to your room. He could feel goosebumps take over the skin of your thighs where he was touching you and tried to distract himself from pushing you down into the middle of the Revenant and taking you right then and there. You deserved more than that. 

As he reached the room and laid you on the bed, he felt your fingers clasp onto him harder and when his eyes trailed over your face, he knew you were silently begging him not to leave. 

“I’m not going anywhere Ad'ika.” His reassuring tone tugged at your heart and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched him walk to the door and shut it behind him before moving to the refresher. You heard him shuffle around and allowed your mind to calm down, knowing very well that Mando wasn’t unkind and wouldn’t lead you on just to leave you. But then he walked out without his beskar armor and you swore you died and joined the stars. His helmet looked odd without his normal clothing and you knew he could probably see you shamelessly ogling him from across the room. 

He walked to you and stood to the side, and you realized he was probably nervous. You pushed yourself against the wall and threw back the covers, hoping he’d understand what you wanted of him.

“Can I-”

“Please.” You cut him off before he could finish his question and he took a deep breath before laying on the bed and moving as close to you as possible. Before he could throw the covers over the two of you, you were already laying your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around him, fingers fisting into the soft material of his shirt unintentionally as you felt him relax beneath you.

You weren’t sure how long it’s been but you felt his heart rate finally come back to normal. Hoping you weren’t being too forward with him, you took his hand into yours and brought it to your lips, softly kissing his knuckles before turning his palm over to lay a kiss on his wrist. Mando was losing every ounce of control left in his body and his arm tightened around your back as soon as he felt the tip of your tongue against his hand. 

“Pfassk,” you flinched at the rough expletive and raised your head to look at him, finding his visor already tilted down towards you. “I- I’m sorry I’ll stop if-”

“No..n-no, don’t stop. It just- you took me by surprise.” His chest was rising and falling more rapidly and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was as affected by this new level of ‘intimacy’ as you were, if not more.

You felt bold at his request, kicking the covers away before sitting up and moving to straddle his thighs. Mando was breathing harshly and mirrored your actions, sitting up against the cool metal of the wall before laying his hands on top of your exposed thighs. He let himself take in the way your skin flushed under his touch and smiled to himself when he continued to inch his smooth hands over your upper thighs until his shirt rid up your legs and revealed the pastel color of your undergarment. 

“Cyar'ika…” He sighed when he finally forced himself to meet your eyes and found them dilated until there was barely any color left in them. You wanted to ask him what that word meant but chose to file it for later. Placing your hands on top of his, you smiled down at him before pulling them towards your lips and kissing his palms. Almost instantly, you felt him twitch against you, unable to control himself from bucking his hips against your heated core. You let go of his hands and laid your own on his chest, throwing your head back when you felt his tight grip on your thighs. You could tell he wanted to apologize but gave him no chance to do so, sliding against him until you were sure he was painfully hard beneath you.

“Maker...I- I could almost taste you on my tongue Mando. When you- you left me in here all by myself. I couldn’t sleep, n-not when I could smell you on these covers, not when I could feel you on my skin. I..gods, wanted to kiss you then, and- and I wanted to taste your- you...Please, c-can I? P-please-” You dug your nails into his chest and heard him throw his head back against the wall with every confession you moaned to him. He was never this unhinged and you wished to see him come absolutely undone at your touch.

“A-are you sure?” It pained him to ask but he needed to be sure that you wouldn’t regret this. Regret him. 

“Mando, have you not listened to anything I’ve said tonight?” As much as you hated to remind him of the earlier and rather embarrassing events, you wanted him to know just how much he meant to you. You knew he was reluctant to let this relationship move forward and you couldn’t really blame him. This was all new to him. But you also didn’t want to stall, not when the two of you have become so aware of the other’s feelings.

You continued to rub yourself on him, shaking with anticipation when you heard him moan through the vocoder as you pressed yourself more confidently down on him. 

“Mesh'la I-” Without warning, you took one of his hands and pushed it to your lips, slowly taking two of his fingers into your mouth and swirling your tongue around them until his moans grew louder. And when he pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth, you gripped his wrist tightly and groaned, making sure he could feel how much you wanted him. 

“Y-you’re killing me sweet girl.” He wanted to loosen his hold on you, to take things slow, to not let himself get carried away with you, but he didn’t find it in himself to be gentle because he could feel how wet and needy you were above him and there was no way he was going to waste another second not being close to you.

“Please Mando, I want you, n-need to have you. I can make you feel so good. Please, can I?” You reached down and cupped him through his pants, finding him as hard as the beskar of his armor. He thrust up into your hand and swore violently before taking his hand away from your mouth and fisting it into your hair. You smiled when you felt him push you off of him, whispering something in Mando’a when he saw you pulling his pants down his thighs and throwing them behind you. 

You bit your lower lip before moving off of the bed and pushing his legs along with you as well. Mando sat up and forced his hands to remain by his side, afraid his enthusiasm would make him get too rough with you and scare you away. When you laid your hands on his knees and pushed them wide open so you could get comfortable between his legs, Mando’s hands tightened around the covers and he hissed when he saw the way you were eyeing his cock. You were staring at him like he was a piece of meat and he wasn’t sure if he loved it or was embarrassed by it. 

“Maker,” you whispered before dragging your nails up and down his thighs, watching as his cock twitched against his stomach every time you got a little aggressive with your touches. Looking up into his visor, you slowly leaned down and took the tip of his cock in your mouth, humming around him as you tasted precum leaking into your taste buds. That seemed to do it for him because one of his hands shot to the back of your head and fisted into your hair while the other moved down until it landed on your hand. He intertwined his fingers with yours and watched as you pulled back and licked the underside of his dick before spitting into your hand and wrapping it around him.

“M-mando, the taste of you,” you took as much of him in your mouth as possible while maintaining eye contact with his helmet, squeezing the base of his cock before reaching down and cupping his balls. Mando swore, involuntarily thrusting into your mouth and watching in awe as he saw a dangerous glint in your eyes right before you clasped his hand harder and somehow managed to take him in deeper. It was such a sight, holding affectionately onto your hand as you brought him to pleasure. Letting go of him with a pop, you laid wet kisses down the length of his cock, licking the protruding veins and smiling when you felt his hold tighten on your hair. “Is absolutely addicting.” 

You could tell the exact second he lost all semblance of control because one minute you were kneeling at his feet, and the next thing you knew, Mando was pulling you up by your hair and throwing you beneath him on the bed. You wiped your lips with the back of your hand, watching his muscles flex as he removed his shirt expertly over his helmet. The soft starlight coming through the metal blinds of the window shone onto his skin and you trailed your gaze down his chest, finding the golden brown tone of his scarred body absolutely breathtaking. 

“Mando, you’re beautiful.” You saw his hands begin to shake at your compliment, and you knew you’d take every chance you get from now on to tell him how much you adored him. You could hear him breathing through the mask and licked your lips when he looked down and saw the way you were playing with the hem of his shirt. Slowly, you began to pull on the soft material, about to take it off when he held onto your wrists. Your smile faltered for a second and hoped you didn’t somehow misunderstand his intentions.

The last thing Mando wished to see was your body giving away to shyness before him. Pushing your thighs open, he didn’t give you a chance to say anything else as he slid his fingers below the thin undergarment, violently ripping it off of you and discarding it onto the floor. You gasped when you felt him hard and heavy against your slit, taking both of his hands and pulling him towards you until he was only a hairbreadth away. He watched closely as you placed one hand around your throat while the other descended to your breast. You could tell Mando was reluctant to move so much an inch and when you pushed yourself against him, eyes daring him to do as he wishes, he found himself completely overtaken with the thought of you belonging to him and him only. You smiled when you felt the grip on your throat tighten, shutting your eyes and arching your back against him as the other cupped and pinched at your nipples through his shirt. 

“If you want me to fuck you tonight, Mesh'la, then you’re going to keep my shirt on.” He could feel you shaking in his arms and smiled to himself at the knowledge of how much he affected you. 

“Mando, please…” You would have continued begging him if he asked you to, but then he was moving away from you and leaning towards the window. Keeping your hands clasped to your chest, you watched as he shut the blinds until there wasn’t a single light shining into the room. You could barely see your own hands in the dark and wondered why he was shuffling above you. A soft hissing sound had you tensing in an instant and you ceased to breathe when you heard the faint sound of beskar hitting the ground. 

“M-mando?” The question was more reluctant than inquisitive and you didn’t have time to react as you felt him lean against you until you were touching every inch of his skin. You blinked a few times in vain, knowing there was no way you would be able to see anything. But then you felt something soft brush against your cheek and as you turned your head towards him, Mando was molding his lips with yours, swallowing your gasps and sucking on your tongue as soon as you melted into him. He pulled away against his own will, but not before pushing your jaw with his nose until your neck was available to him.

“And my name is Din sweet girl, Din Djarin. It better be the only word you scream tonight as I fuck this pretty little cunt. Understood?” You weren’t sure if it was his deep voice that made you speechless or the fact that he not only took off his helmet for you but willingly told you his name as well. You committed it to memory, hoping this wouldn’t be the only time he took off his helmet around you. You’d always wondered what he sounded like without it, not comprehending that it could be so much sweeter than what you’ve dreamed of. And by the gods, his lips. How were they so soft and gentle? Maker, he had a stubble too, not a rough one but just long enough to tickle your neck as he kissed and nipped at your clavicle.

“Answer me Ad'ika.” He bit your shoulder to grab your attention once more, chuckling above you when you nodded frantically against him. 

“You’re so soft Cyar'ika, I- I want to kiss every inch of your skin.” As much as you loved making him lose his mind at your touch, you had to admit you enjoyed him much more when he was in control. You smiled when he kissed along your shoulder before pushing down his shirt far enough to expose your breasts. Din bit down on his lower lip to contain himself, but then you were arching your back and pushing yourself into him and he couldn’t hold back. He kissed down your sternum, waiting until you relaxed in his arms before assaulting your nipples. You screamed his name as you felt his teeth tug on your nipple, hands shooting to his hair when you felt him grope and pull on the other. 

“Din, oh ma-maker- your mouth is...f-fuck.” You could tell he was smiling as he aggressively licked the hardened bud before sucking on it again. Din pushed his cock against your wet slit, growling when you pulled on his hair and cried his name like a sweet prayer. 

“I could smell your cunt sweet girl, so fucking wet and hot and ready for me.” Din pulled back and cornered you between his arms, bucking his hips into you until you were a needy and moaning mess beneath him. “Woke up countless times in this bed...hard and aching at the mere thought of you...d-dreaming of having you in my arms, wanting to sink into you, f-fuck you on every inch of this ship.” 

“Din, please...I need you.” 

The way you clawed at his back broke him and before he knew what he was doing, he was flipping you on your stomach and raising your hips against him.

“I need to have you Mesh'la.” Din leaned down and swiped your hair to the side, whispering the filthiest things in your ears as he took hold of his cock and rubbed it against your heat. 

“I’m yours Din, do what you want. Fuck me, ruin me...cum in me if you wish. Just p-please-”

You made it sound so simple, trusting him. It was an odd feeling to know how easily you were giving yourself to him. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, not after what you said tonight. But something about the way you offered yourself to him, especially with that last request, had him seeing stars.

Leaning down until his chest was sliding against your back, the Mandalorian held you against him with one arm across your front while he slowly slipped into your wet cunt. You sighed in unison, and Din felt a sense of pride fill his chest when you dug your nails into his arm while your legs began to shake beneath him.

“You’re a dream Cyar'ika, the best f-fucking dream I could ever have. And you’re all mine.”

“Y-yes, yours. I’ve always been yours, oh gods Din please, move. M-move.” You were babbling at this point but couldn’t find it in yourself to care, turning your head to the side just to feel him breathe against your cheek. His stubble rubbed deliciously at your heated and sensitive skin, and you would tell him later that you hoped he’d mirror those actions but elsewhere.

“So tight darling, I- you’re everything. The things I- uhhh, the thing I want to do to you.” Din achingly pulled out before snapping into you again, biting down on your shoulder when you clenched violently around him. 

“Din, oh Din-” You wished you could tell him how good he felt, how much he filled you, how often you craved having him inside you and how much you were losing it now that he was. But you couldn’t find a single word, not when he was fucking you like you were it for him.

The normally quiet man was groaning and hissing above you, pulling you along with him as he sat up and continued to fuck you relentlessly. You reached back and held his head against your neck, crying in pain and pleasure when he picked up the pace and his hold on your hip tightened. You were sure there would be bruise marks the next day but you couldn’t tell him to slow down or be a little less aggressive, not when you finally had him where you’ve wanted for so long. 

“Fuck, fuck….sweet girl, did- did you mean it?” He was asking you something and you didn’t really pay attention to him, focusing on the way he deliciously dragged against your tight walls over and over again. Din knew it wasn’t fair to ask you anything right now but he had to know. Needed to.

He stopped his movement all together, sinking as deep into you as possible and tightening his grip on your throat. 

“Pfassk...answer me darling.” Din whispered into your ears and reached down to where you were joined, softly slapping your clit until you twitched and begged him to repeat his words again.

“I said, did you fucking mean it when- kriffing hell, when you said I could...c-cum in you?” He was reluctant to ask but there was no point in denying either of you. 

“Yes, gods yes. I told you Din, d-do what you want with me.” You forcibly loosened the fingers around your throat and brought them to your lips, biting the palm of his hand as he resumed thrusting into you. 

“Mesh'la...you’re such a sweet girl, letting me b-breed you...taking my cock so well, letting me fill you up. You were made for me darling. This cunt, this sweetest and tightest kriffing pussy was made for my cock.” He pronounced each word with a harsh push of his hips and you smiled when you heard how low his voice suddenly became. The sounds of skin slapping on skin filled the room and you hoped the child wouldn’t wake up from how loud the two of you were being. 

“You’re mine darling. Won’t let anyone else touch you...fucking look at you even. Maker I- I almost lost it tonight in the cantina.” There was a hint of self-consciousness in his words and you hoped he didn’t think you could ever replace him.

“D-din..” You wanted to tell him no one else would compare but he didn’t give you a chance. 

“Talking about me like I- fuck, like I didn’t care about you, like I don’t picture you coming on my cock every waking moment of my day. And flirting with him in my shirt...my kriffing shirt. I almost lost it when he put his hands on you sweet girl.” You weren’t sure if he had somehow become harder inside you or if it was his words that made you attuned to the feeling of him pushing into your cunt but you turned your head and kissed his cheeks, hoping he’d understand what you were trying to tell him with your touches. 

“You’re the only one f-for me.” Din let go of your neck and held onto your hips, no longer caring about how rough he was being with you. Your heavy sighs were the only warning he had right before your tight walls convulsed around his dick and he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, falling on top of you and bucking his hips slowly into your cunt until you begged him to slow down.

“Cyare, ah pfassk, that’s it. Keep squeezing me darling. I’m so close, so close. Ah fuck, you’re mine. Mine, not letting you go. N-never letting you go. Oh maker...ner runi...ner. Ner. Riduur. My sweet girl...riduur.” Din didn’t realize what he’d said until the words were left hanging in the air and he felt a rush of relief wash over him as he finally admitted how he felt about you. 

“Din, I lo- ahh gods please.” He silenced your screams with his hand, losing his rhythm as he came in hot spurts of cum inside you. Din bit down onto your shoulder just as you bit on the palm of his hand, continuing to push his seed deep inside you until he felt you a mixture of your juices seeping out of you. Neither of you moved for a few moments, relishing the way you fit so perfectly with each other. You could feel him breathing heavily against your back and smiled with pride when you realized you were the only one that got to see him like this. 

Din didn’t want to stop touching you, falling to the side and grabbing your flush to him only to hiss when you unintentionally clenched around his softening cock. You kissed his wrist as he pulled the covers over the two of you, not bothering to move a muscle mostly because you knew he didn’t wish for you to leave him.

He kissed along the bruised ridges of your shoulders, drawing circles on your navel and smiling when you giggled beneath him.

“I wasn’t too rough with you was I?” He asked embarrassingly, not knowing what he’d do if you said yes. 

“You were perfect Din...you- you are perfect.” You turned your head far enough in hopes of catching his attention, letting out a deep breath when he leaned over and captured your lips in a chaste kiss. He was so soft and you didn’t know which side of him you enjoyed more but you were sure you wanted to get to know him, all of him. His likes and dislikes.

“Far from it Mesh'la. I...I went to the lower deck and saw where you’ve been sleeping.”

“Oh…”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Din rose on his elbow, seeking your hands in the dark and holding onto your fingers as he raised your hand to his mouth and kissed along your hand. 

“I- I didn’t want to make you think you weren’t welcome. Peli told me about the Creed and well, there isn’t any sort of privacy down there really. And the kid would’ve been cold. I know how much he likes to cuddle next to you when he sleeps.” 

“But you’ve been-”

“I’ve slept in worse conditions, believe me.” He didn’t say anything else in response but you knew he was very much thinking about it. 

“Din, I wouldn’t change a single moment. Not one. Because each one led me here, to this bed, in your arms. I would relive every mission and every cold night and every awkward conversation again if I knew I’d end up here with you. You’re the closest thing I have to a..a-”

“Family.” He broke the silence before lying back down and pulling you as close to him as possible.

“Promise me you won’t get drunk by yourself in a cantina again.” You wished you didn’t laugh out loud at the random request because Din swore behind you before his grip loosened a bit.

“I’m sorry I...I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just, here I am pouring my heart out and the only thing you could follow up with was that.” When he didn’t say anything in return, you grabbed his arm and pulled him back to you. “And yes, I promise not to get drunk in a cantina by myself ever again.”

“Good.”

“But I can’t really make any promises about not flirting with anyone because if it means I get to have you all hot and bothered then-”

“Sweet girl, you’re going to regret ever thinking of that…” 

Translations: 

Sleemo - This Huttese insult was pronounced slay-mo and translated as "slimeball," a rude insult.

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Pfassk - An adaptable expletive

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - Mine.

Runi - soul; only used poetically

Riduur - partner, spouse, husband/wife

[owlmylove]

Just had the very distressing thought that if I ever want to have a girlfriend I'm gonna have to TALK to a girl?!?!??!?!?!?

I'd have to talk to a girl that I LIKE and HAVE A CRUSH ON?!?!? Impossible! Please help a distressed lesbian if you have any advice

okay so: in my personal experience 90% of all lesbian flirting is eyeing up fellow women to discreetly try to determine if they, too, are wlw. then you compliment each others button downs and never speak to each other again

BUT if you would like to painstakingly attempt to challenge the starfish fallacy then read on for my comprehensive guide on flirting w/ women! (credentials: i have accidentally flirted with So Many Women oh my god)

first up: start with the art of compliments! if you're too shy to tell a girl they're gorg out of nowhere, then focus on their clothing, their haircuts, their cool shoes, the patches on their denim jackets, etc. opening a convo with a compliment is one of the easiest shortcuts, as it neatly prevents you from having to come up w/ a witty rejoinder right off the bat (save those for later)

physical proximity makes it easy to do this to someone standing or sitting next to you. if, however, they're on the other side of the room/otherwise engaged, it gets trickier. if ur confident enough to walk up to a girl in a coffeeshop + compliment her, GO FOR IT. but if you're too anxious to just coldcall her, approach with a question.

you can warp the compliment to fit the question, i.e. "Hey! Sorry to interrupt [your reading], but your book looks super interesting/I've seen it around & am debating whether to buy it. Would you recommend it?" or, re: outfits/haircuts "Hey! Your ____ is super cute, can I ask where you got it [done]?" if they're a classmate/coworker, you can make it even less direct: "Hey! Do you know when we're scheduled to do ____?" (<- this one comes w/ the perk of, pending her response, immediately asking for her # to swap shifts or trade notes, which can quickly allow for inviting her to a study group/after work drinks with coworkers. speedrun!!)

once Conversation is Initiated, maintain eye contact, listen attentively to their replies, and keep smiling/smizing. if they're reticent, follow up with more questions unless you're getting fuck off vibes ("I'm trying to get more into reading lately, would you have any other reccs?" or, "I haven't found a hairstylist yet since I moved here from _____, are there any other local spots you'd recommend?")

BUT if they're returning eye contact, smiling, and keeping open body language towards you, make it a full-on convo! offer some personal details in return, don't be afraid to make (non-risky!!!!) jokes, and (if you can control when & where you're moving, i.e. not during a job or class) have a built-in exit.

even if convos are going good, it's polite (+ leaves them wanting more via scarcity principle, etc. etc.) to end a brief first-time convo after a few minutes, ideally before the energy winds down & you're left feeling awkward. "it's been so lovely meeting you! [insert name here], right? I've got to get going, but thanks for the ___!" if you wanna play the long game/are in a coffeeshop/aren't confident enough yet (no shame!) ask if she comes here regularly and say you hope to see her around sometime soon.

if you've managed to get a good enough energy going: ask if she has an insta/social media you could get for _____ purpose, i.e. letting her know if you like the book/music/media she recc'd or asking for more local spots. IF, however, you don't wanna put yourself at the whim of her generosity: give yourself a cheat code during the initial conversation.

namely; reference something you'd recommend, think she'd find funny, or can't believe she hasn't seen yet, etc. etc. then, at the end of the convo, you can naturally offer "Oh! Lemme send you that X I mentioned--do you have an insta/social?" et voila. asking for social is always less awk/direct than asking for phone numbers, AND it lets the flirtee decide whether she wants to offer that level of trust just yet

if you're not coldcall flirting a girl in public, but rather have an object of your affections at work or school: this formula works p. much the same, but on a slower scale (if you don't use my speedrun ofc) start building a rapport via compliments/questions, progress to chatting briefly whenever you see each other, and third step: say "I saw something yesterday that totally reminded me of you/I just have to send to you!! Here-do I have your insta yet?"

once you have someone's insta: continue chatting when you see them irl/replying to their stories over social, and see if you can pay close enough attention to what she likes to do. judging by the number of accidental lesbian dates i've been on, it's probably

art museum

botanical gardens, or

burlesque shows

however, hikes, used bookstores, underground shows, and grocery shopping together for a subsequent picnic also feature prominently. invite her to do whatever activity you think you'd both enjoy most (over social or irl, whichever you're comfortable with [tho irl gives you a better judge of facial expressions/body language]) and boom. if she says yes, shoot back "it's a date!" after setting the day/time, bc if she's anywhere near as clueless as i am (i'm so sorry wlw) they may honestly think you're still just friends.

if, over the course of your irl convos or DMs, you have the chance to casually mention your sexuality (patches, pride is coming up, mention "my teenage crush/my ex-girlfriend") and ask for hers, go for it. if you can be direct: ask directly. it will save you time, trouble, and mild heartbreak. but if you suffer from the conflict avoidance that plagues lo so many of us: just lean into the subtext.

offer your celebrity crushes and ask what hers are. mention an ex (BRIEFLY, in connection to another topic entirely [she recc'd this cool band to me!] and always in a positive context). wear birkenstocks or docs and say Portrait of a Lady on Fire is the best film of all time, say you listen to girl in red or w/e those charming youths do. just lay the foundation in barely-subtext and keep an eye on her responses, while accepting the risk of wooing what may or may not be a fellow wlw

once you are, in point of fact, ON the date: standard rules and rates apply. relax! be urself!! enjoy spending time with a cool person, regardless of what may or may not come of it!!!! if she seems into it lean into physical proximity, do the whole Tarzan hand-comparison wlw are addicted to, offer to feed her bites of food or swap sips of each other's drinks, and casually set intentions for future plans ("I've never heard of X cafe--we'll have to do that next time!" or, the infamous buy-her-smth-secretly and then offer "You can get mine next time c:")

again, the most important thing is to be sincere. it's good not to place too many expectations on the other person, but don't force yourself to be overly "chill" if you are not, in point of fact, a chill person. dating is always a process of getting to know one another, and it's important to be polite but pls don't feel like you have to follow a script or be someone you're not. just be you babe: you're already plenty lovable. godspeed + good luck!!<33

[clairecrive]

heyo! woman was so good- could you write a part 2 to it please? thank you so much!

"woman" - wolfstar x reader (part 2)

A/n: thank you so much to those who commented on part 1! I'm overwhelmed by the response it got and I'm so happy!

Warnings: mild angst, mostly fluff, Sirius is adorable, this is mostly about Sirius x y/n, but poly relationship none the less

Word count: 1.2k ish

Tags: @erinblack003, @girl22334, @blackpinkdolan, @seldomabsent, @andy-blur (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

Part 1

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

Sometimes, y/n damned the day she said yes to those boys. Granted, it didn't happen often and it coincided unsurprisingly with every fight she had with them. Mostly Sirius to be fair. Remus hated arguing just as much as she did, only he did a better job in dealing with conflict. 

If y/n had to be honest, it was hard for her and Sirius not to clash. No matter how much she loved the boy, more often than not they'd argue. Usually, it started like harmless banter, Sirius loved to get a rise out of her since Remus was always so collected, and y/n couldn't hold her tongue if her life depended on it. Hence, their dynamic.

Those kinds of interactions though were never taken seriously by either of them. Not that they would admit it out loud, but they enjoyed them.

However, despite how Remus always tried to mediate between them on serious matters, sometimes it wasn't enough and they would apply that same dynamic to fights stem from more serious motives. Like it happened yesterday.

Laying in her bed, with the deafening silence of her dorm as a soundtrack, y/n could admit that she took Sirius bait. She was aware of her boyfriend's past and how difficult it was for him to express his feelings. Hell, her past wasn't as traumatic and she had a hard time doing that too. 

"Stupid," groaning at herself, she rolled around, unable to keep still for long. 

Truth is, she gave in to that part of herself that was always second-guessing everything good in her life and let her speak. Yes, after months of dating she still couldn't believe that two of the most amazing human beings on this planet chose her and loved her, but she wasn't so insecure about their relationship and their commitment to her. 

It was true that Sirius had a way of going about things that made him seem like a huge flirt but she knew in her heart that it was harmless. She could see it in his eyes every time he'd look at her or Remus. Least of all that Valerie. 

She overreacted.

"Fuck me," huffing in annoyance she couldn't believe that Sirius had been right all along, she had been a massive brat. 

"I think you're in the wrong place for that," Marlene's voice cut through the room startling her.

"Sorry Marls," she grimaced knowing that it was her shuffling and restlessness that woke her friend.

"I'm sure your loverboy would be more than happy to solve your problem. Just go to him." And giving y/n her back, she went back to sleep.  Y/n had confided in her friend, she usually liked to keep her relationship's problems between her and her boyfriends but Marlene had seen right through her. 

She let out a sigh, looking at the ceiling, she knew that she couldn't go on like this much longer. She never could sleep when she had a serious fight with her boyfriends. Trying to be as silent as possible and climbed the stairs to the common room. 

Trying to figure out the best way to approach Sirius after the fight, the best words to use, she almost missed the silhouette of a boy sitting in front of a fire. As soon as she had spotted it though, y/n knew immediately who it was.

Sirius always had trouble sleeping.

"Hey," not wanting to scare him, she quietly spoke to announce her presence before making her way to him.

"Hi," good thing she had spoken, 'cause Sirius appeared to be deep in thoughts and hadn't heard her coming down. "What are you doing here?" 

"Couldn't sleep. You?"

"Same."

Both of them were aware of the reason why both of them were too restless to sleep but it felt like the words needed to be said. Even if to just ease them into the conversation they knew they needed to have.

"Look-"

"Listen-"

Speaking at the same time like they were in some sort of romcom felt comical but also very in intune with them. Always clashing. 

Smiling softly at each other, they waited for the other to speak. Almost as if they had made a silent agreement, again, they spoke at the same time.

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Sirius added confused. She did nothing wrong as far as he's concerned.

"I overreacted, I was a bitch," she started listing with the help of her fingers, "I threw a fit, do I need to add more?"

"Oh baby," shaking his head he took her hands in his before continuing, "can't blame you for that when I would have reacted the same way, can I?"

"It seemed like I don't trust you though," now it was her turn to shake her head and give his hands a squeeze, "which is absolutely not true. I know you're loyal."

"Surely, you must know how deeply I care for you."

"I do, I do," she insisted when she saw doubt still clouding his eyes, "sometimes I let my insecurities get the best of me. I'm sorry if I hurt you though, it isn't an excuse."

"We all got insecurities, bunny. And I'm the one who's sorry, I shouldn't have messed with you that much. I was being an arsehole and I ruined your surprise." He reassured her before his head hung low in shame. There's the thing about Sirius: he could be very forgiving when it came to his loved ones but never when it came to himself. 

"You were a bit of a moron, but it's okay. I didn't want to come off as needy, you weren't that  late anyway." Taking his chin between her fingers, she tilted his head up so that she could look into his eyes. There was nothing y/n hated more than Sirius being so intransigent with himself when he deserved nothing but love and happiness. Good thing that he had two doting and loving partners then, right? 

"Bunny," tightening his hold on the hand he was still holding, his eyes glowed in the firelight, turning solemn as the words he was about to share, " you're the most important person in my life along with the marauders. If you want my attention, you got it. Hell, you already have all my attention. You're always on my mind, and certainly in my heart. I love you, there's no one but you and Remus. I promise." 

Letting his forehead touching hers gently, he gave her a soft Eskimo kiss. This soft intimacy always melted his heart. Sure, steamy makeup sex was always a wonderful post-fight but this- this was way better. Sirius had had plenty of sex with other people, it wasn't a secret, but he had never had this kind of quiet, almost domestic affection. And it was what he craved more than anything. It was one of those things that you can't live without once you had it. 

"I love you too, Sirius. You and Remus are it for me." She promised while her fingers gently caressed his jaw. They settled in comfortable silence, enjoying each other presence, basking in the promise that this would be forever. 

"Did you and Remus open it?" Leaning back so that she could see him better, she asked after a while.

"Nope wanted to make things right with you first."

"Then it's not ruined. Just postponed." As if the last couple of hours didn't happen, y/n felt the excitement come back to her. However, the clock neared midnight and having things finally been set straight between them, the strain of the day was slowly dawning on them. And as a matter of fact, Sirius yawned in the cutest way. Nose scrunched, eyes watering, he looked so much like a puppy, one wouldn't believe it.

"C'mon love, let's go to bed, alright?" Leaving a kiss to his lips, she quietly coaxed him up from the sofa. 

"Can't we stay here and cuddle a bit more?" Groaning, he complained settling his head in the crook of her neck, refusing to let her go.

"Who said we had to part? I'm not letting you go tonight, but I'm sure Moony is feeling lonely up there." She said quickly pecking his temple, the closest part of his face she could reach and walked towards their dorm with him attached to her like a koala. 

"Mh yes, let's go then. Moony gives the best cuddles."

"That he does my love." She agreed giggling. Remus was the best at quite a few things but maybe they could explore them in the morning.