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zapsalis-d · 3 years

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Piece of You

summary — Everyone wants a piece of you. Even a certain Mandalorian who denies that he's grown enamored with every little thing about you.

content — Implied smut, harassment, jealousy, alcohol, pining

word count — 4.5k

inspiration — Piece of You, Shawn Mendes

main masterlist

He's not one who's fond of Tatooine.

Everything about that filthy, crime-ridden dust-ball is enough to entirely repel him from the planet. Yet there's something — someone — who lures him into Tatooine, even when his presence isn't necessary. He repeatedly scolds himself each time he passes by the familiar dusty planet — there is no point in landing, no purpose to be there. He never listens. Not at all.

The Mandalorian is constantly preoccupied with his devotion to bounty hunting. But each time, it's as if he entirely clears anything on his plate. A pending bounty puck? He can handle that later. Quarry needs to be delivered? Not a problem, he has a carbon-freezing chamber installed in the ship. Damaged ship? Well, there are plenty of repairmen on Tatooine.

His sole desire is to visit nobody other than you. The bartender working in one of the most famous cantinas in Mos Eisley. The cantina's owner recognized precisely what he was doing when he hired you. You... you are exceptionally captivating, stunning, seductive. Your snarky personality, flawless body, and heavenly face is enough to entice every man in the parsec who'd heard of you. In fact, one of the main reasons the cantina is so damn popular is due to your employment.

Everybody wants a piece of you...

So as Din positions the Razor Crest onto the landing bay's flooring, he prepares himself to be utterly disappointed. With the plethora of men drooling over you each second of your life, you certainly have plenty to choose from. Out of all of them, you aren’t going to select a Mandalorian who refuses to reveal his face to absolutely anyone. Yet he pushes the thought aside. The purpose of his return is due to his recent hunt. The quarry was pestering, exceedingly difficult to locate and seize. Once Din managed to capture and deliver him, he immediately knew he required a brief break. A chance to unwind, ease up, relax. The sight of you is enough to de-stress him.

Maybe you'd even swiftly speak with him for a moment. Each time he arrives at the cantina, you eventually stop by besides him, hold a quick conversation before promptly returning to your work. Din has no clue why. Plenty of other men practically beg for your attention. Yet you don't spare a mere glance towards their direction, unless deemed necessary.

Din descends the ladder towards the hull of the ship, commanding the ramp to lower utilizing his beskar vambrace. Without hesitation, he strides off the ramp, sealing it shut directly after he steps off. He shares a hasty glimpse around the hangar. The manager is nowhere to be found. It doesn’t matter — his ship isn't damaged, there is no need to discuss payment with them. Without further delay, he exits the hangar and treads through the desolate streets of Mos Eisley. It's unbearably hot, even with the twin suns setting down on the horizon. Colorful hues of red, yellow, purple, and blue lace the sky as he proceeds through the countless buildings and homes.

The well-known cantina appears in the distance. A flutter develops in the pit of his stomach at the bare thought of seeing you once more, especially after the additionally burdensome hunt he endured. He hasn't the slightest idea of what he'll do, or even say, when he enters. He's able to converse with you perfectly fine, as long as you initiate the chatting. The thought of walking up to you and establishing the conversation first is... unnerving. Hell, he can hardly flirt for the sake of his own life. You're not interested in the Mandalorian. You can't be. So, why should he even attempt to speak with you when you will simply push him aside, reject him? No, he prefers to keep his distance. Observe from afar. If your desire is to talk, he'll talk with pleasure. Call him a coward, but he isn't going to take his chances.

The Mandalorian saunters through the wide-open doors, gloved hand instinctively shifting towards the holster strapped to his hip. Even through the helmet covering his face, he catches a repulsing whiff of the strong alcoholic scent. His visor scans the cantina for a brief moment. It's surprisingly empty. Tables consist of a few people chattering mutely among each other, a couple waiters grabbing their orders. The ambience is strangely hushed. The bar is completely unoccupied, much to his surprise. A service droid is present where you ordinarily are, wiping a damp cloth over the counter. You, though, are nowhere to be found.

Eyes carefully survey him as he idly stands in front of the entrance. A Mandalorian equipped with a full attire of beskar armor, a pulse rifle strapped firmly against his back, and armed with various weapons is bound to snatch everyone's attention. Not wanting to deal with any issues as the moment, he continues to step forward. Despite his intense detestation for droids, this one in particular can prove useful. The droid raises its mechanical head, unreadable eyes staring straight towards the Mandalorian as he leans forward, elbows propping against the bar.

"The girl is absent today," its blank voice states, head tilting down as it resumes its cleaning. "Her shift has ended earlier today, per her request."

He's left speechless for a split second. Damn droid has practically read his mind. Does he actually make it so evident? Perhaps its simply that its already encountered countless men asking for you already. Nevertheless, a heat creeps onto his cheeks, radiating through his entire face and neck upon the droid's accusation. Steadily, he shifts his weight before answering. "What makes you think I'm here for her?"

His voice comprises a certain hostility, primarily due to the fact that he's conversing with — of all things — a droid. Its gaze lifts upon hearing his response, metal hand halting its insistent rubbing. "A great deal of men have requested her presence here today. I apologize. Would you care for a drink?"

"No," he swiftly replies. Then, he freezes, shoulders tensing up. If he's not here for you, then what's his purpose here? The droid bluntly stares, expecting further elaboration. Din provides him with nothing other than a view of his backside when he spins around, cape swishing with every motion as he strides away. He's on the verge of step outside when the mechanical voice calls for him.

"The girl will return tomorrow afternoon."

Din peers over the pauldron adorning his shoulder, sharing a brief glimpse with the droid. He should thank it, but decides against it. Its just a droid. It doesn't deserve his gratitude, nor an apology for his bitterness. Without lingering any further, he directs his gaze forward once more, before begrudgingly stalking off towards the course leading to the Razor Crest.

A darkness envelops him as soon as he steps into the plain open air. The suns had descended quite rapidly, a starless night sky hanging over the city. It's substantially cooler now that the suns aren't blazing down on him, a brisk breeze sweeping his cape sideways. The streets are increasingly barren now, not a single being in sight.

Except for one isolated person.

He recognizes the figure — the exquisite curves of her body, impeccable hair enhancing her features, the way she stands with utter confidence and assertiveness. All he manages to perceive was her back, but it's unquestionably the person he's been searching for. You.

You reside directly in front of a residence, gaze impatiently darting around as if awaiting someone's arrival. Din had assured himself he wouldn't initiate a conversation with you, though currently it seems as if that is his only option. Either that, or he disappointedly heads back towards his ship. But what the hell is he supposed to say? A simple "hey" wouldn't captivate your attentiveness. You'll simply shove him aside, completely uninterested as you've done an unmeasurable amount of times. He takes a step forward — tentatively, slowly, steadily. He's nervous. He can't deny that. Speaking to you seems to frighten him immensely, not even the most intimidating of quarries has managed to inflict this feelings upon him.

It's not that he's enamored by you. He does not have the time for romance. It's straightforward attraction. Infatuation. A meaningless crush, as some would claim. He is aroused by you. That's all it is, and all it will ever be. At least, that's what he's been attempting to convince himself about for the past months.

His thoughts are interrupted when someone enters the scenario. A man. Your face brightens upon catching sight of him as you beam at him. That damn smile. The way your lips curl upwards, flashing those set of pearly whites — it enthralled him since day one. His attention switches to the unfamiliar man as you throw your arms around him, his own hands embracing you and pulling you near. Seconds later, the two of you head inside the house you stand by. He's joking about something Din is unable to pick out, causing a burst of laughter to escape your lips. The sound is interfere with when the door slams closed behind you. Then, there's complete silence.

Boyfriend. That's his final conclusion. You'd requested time off your job to see your lover. It makes absolute sense. With the incalculable quantity of men constantly chasing you around, you're bound to find someone who interests you. Without another alternative to his situation, Din settled to leave. He's discouraged, yes, but what else would he expect? It's absolutely fine, though. This provides him with yet another reason why he should maintain his distance from the planet. Unless proven necessary, he won't return to Tatooine. There is no purpose for him here. His fantasies need to cease, stop raiding his brain and controlling his every action. He cannot spare anymore time indulging in this. It's for the best.

___

He arrives once more at the damn cantina the following afternoon.

He doesn't understand why he can't liberate himself from this addiction, why his thoughts are persistently flooded by images of you, and you only.

Baby, I'm so into you, it hurts...

Despite the setback yesterday, he feels like he's under obligation to drop by and see you before he departs from Tatooine. It's plain and simple — this is his final opportunity to visit you, and he'll seize onto that freedom while he's capable of doing so. Even if it means he's wasting valuable time while he could be earning his well-deserved credits. Even if the hangar's manager warned that the landing bay is available exclusively for one entire rotation. It's one straightforward, uncomplicated visit, and then he'll leave satisfied.

The ambience is noisier then the previous occasion. This time, when he pauses to examine his surroundings, nobody pays him even the slightest bit of recognition. Boisterous laughter and obnoxious jabbering, alcoholic scent overwhelming his senses again, and then there's you. Preoccupied with your work, you don't spare him a single glance when he enters. Your attention is thoroughly concentrated on serving the numerous people awaiting their drinks at the bar. There are no accessible seats where you're present — it's utterly packed. It's alright, though, because he's not planning on grabbing a drink anyway. He settles for an available booth in the corner of the cantina, solitarily taking a seat away from the detestable, clamorous commotion. He has no clue how you deal with them until the late hours of the night.

Din merely dismisses the waiter who instantly greets him. He's not here for drinks, or a meal. He's only present for you, but not in the way these men are here for. Their sole purpose is attempting (and downright failing) to sneak into your pants, somehow. While he would be uttery lying to everyone — including himself — if he claims that's not one of his many desires, its not why he's here. He completely respects you. He will never treat you like everyone else does. That's not what you deserve at all, yet these men can't seem to comprehend that. They're selfish, purely caring for their own needs and wants. Not Din. He promised himself he wouldn't be as thoughtless and uncaring as them.

He manages a brief glance towards your direction. You're dressed in your usual attire — close-fitting shirt displaying a great deal of your breasts, skintight skirt barely reaching above your knees, a knife strapped strictly against your thigh to ward off anybody who might be in too close proximity.

You're majestic, mesmerizing, light the room up without trying...

Whether you're enforced to clothe yourself like that or you knowingly chose to do so, he isn't exactly certain. But with the way your face contorts in exasperation, you're definitely not enjoying this. You never did. To remain in an occupation like this, wearing that, required a plethora of fearlessness and aggressiveness. And your wages? They must be damn high. Din admires you for that. He wishes he could do something about it, ward off every single one of those pestering men who displease you but he recognizes your capability. You have demonstrated countless times in the past that you can handle yourself exceedingly well.

His gaze lingers for one second too long. Your eyes connect with his black visor. He freezes. He's been caught staring. For once, he isn't sure what his succeeding actions should be. The beskar helm covering his own face is greatly appreciated in this very moment, because his cheeks are undoubtedly tinted in a thousand shades of pink and red. He wants to avert his gaping, but he discovers its impossible for him. His eyes are practically glued to yours, and for once you notice a certain eagerness in your expression. As if you're actually... contented to spot him between the crowd of men surrounding you.

Right. Like that'll ever happen.

He can't dwell on that — give himself that false hope. Out of everyone in the cantina, you're pleased to see him? That's not exactly feasible.

Your heedfulness is abruptly snatched when a customer purposely drops an object — Din can't pick out what, exactly. His intentions were evident. He's trying to obtain a better view of your rear end, yet you don't give a damn. Din can't quite hear what you're divulging with all the cacophonous noise, though your facial expression provides him with enough. A menacing glare is directed straight towards the man, your mouth spitting out offenses and insults. You've clearly had enough with their crap. There's nothing more Din longs for than to withdraw you from that burdensome situation, lead you to the quietness and tranquility of the Razor Crest. The audacity these men have creates a rage welling up within his chest, blood in his veins boiling. The fact that he can't take action leaves him feeling helpless. You evidently don't want his assistance. You can deal with them yourself — it's what you want.

The Mandalorian finds himself remaining in the cantina for hours. The place gradually empties, though not entirely. There's considerably less racket now. You seem to slowly relax, the tension in your shoulders fading away. Din rarely attempts to peek towards your direction again — not after what previously occurred. He's still rather humiliated about it. His finger lightly drums against the table, a faint tapping sound solely audible to his ears. He's not quite certain why he's residing here for a prolonged amount of time if you're undeniably occupied with your job. Yet—

"Drink?"

The familiar voice steals his attention, a glass filled to the brim with an unknown alcoholic drink slides directly into the hand placed over the table. He catches it and clasps onto it tautly with his fingers, visor lifting upwards precisely when a woman occupies her seat on the booth across from him. You.

Admittedly, he's staggered by your unexpected appearance. While you've spoken with him before, he didn't expect that to occur today, especially with the exceptionally packed cantina. He's utterly speechless, any sort of coherent sentence completely disappearing from his mind. His mouth opens, then shuts repeatedly when he fails to voice an individual word. His throat feels inexplicably dry all of a sudden, his immediate reaction being to take a swig from the glass in his grasp but he's unable to with the helmet preventing it. In this moment, he'd do anything to rid himself of this impenetrable apprehensiveness, anything to ease himself. He can't bring himself go verbalize a single phrase, not even a mere 'thank you.'

"I noticed you didn't order anything for yourself," you state when he doesn’t answer. His flustered condition worsens upon realizing this whole time, you had observed him from the distance as well. Your eyes swiftly dart around the cantina for a split moment, before returning to peer directly into his visor. Then, your gaze averts once more. "Go ahead. There's nobody looking."

For a second, he can't comprehend your suggestion. Until he realizes you're proposing he takes a quick drink from the glass. He glances down towards the object in his hand, practically overflowing with a bright purple-colored liquid. Its iciness bleeds through the leather of his glove. It's been a while since he's enjoyed a nice drink. He can't refuse. Without further contemplation, his free hand raises towards the lip of his helmet, gradually tilting the beskar backwards until his chin and mouth were revealed. He's a bit skittish, unknowing whether you'll abruptly turn your head to face him while he's vulnerable like this. Which is why he speedily chugs it down.

Bad idea. The liquid instantaneously burns his throat, clearing the dryness and replacing it with prickling heat. He drops the helmet down to conceal the exposed half of his face, half-empty glass placed onto the table as he nearly fails to contain himself from throwing a coughing fit. His abrupt discomfort caused your gaze to snap towards him again. At least now he manages to speak. "That's—" he pauses, the strain in his voice leading him to clear his throat. "That's very... strong."

You beam at him, chuckling emanating from you. He can't help but gawk at you, your perfect smile, contagious laughter, alluring features. Occasionally, he wonders how it would feel to kiss those soft, red-tinted lips, caress the curve of your jawline with his thumb, rake his fingers through your silky strands of hair. Those fantasies need to be completely erased from his mind, because they're never going to occur. His longing thought are quickly interrupted when you speak up. "Has a nice taste though, right?"

Din shrugs his shoulders. His breath is still unbearably hot from the drink. Perhaps he should've tested it out before hastily swallowing a substantial quantity of the liquid. "It's an... interesting flavor." He merely watches when you grab the glass, gulping down the remains of the drink without cringing upon the powerful aftertaste. "How much?"

Your gaze meet with him once more. The heavy black eyeliner bordering your eyes only enhance those captivating hues even more, feeling as if they pierce directly through the impenetrable beskar helm obscuring his face. "Payment? Credits aren't necessary today, Mandalorian. I believe tonight has brought me enough to sustain myself with. But there is one thing I'm interested in—" you pause before leaning forward, elbows propping against the table. It provides Din with a superior perspective of your chest, though he couldn't bring himself to glance down. He will not dare disrespect you in such ways. You have his total, undivided attentiveness now, ears ready to listen in for whatever you have to offer. "—your name."

His name. The Mandalorian normally wouldn't provide random people with the knowledge of his name. The thing is — you're not a simple 'random person.'

"Din. Din Djarin."

"Din... Djarin," you repeat, the phrase exquisitely rolling off your tongue. "Well, Din Djarin, I've gotta say... you're an intriguing man."

"How so?" a certain curiosity tinges his tone, audible even through the vocodor distorting his voice.

With a nonchalant shrug, you continue. "You're not here for the same reasons these men are. I mean, you're here for me, I know that. But when you visit, you do so in a considerate manner. Not as intrusive and harassing as most are." Your lips curve upwards in a small grin, head tilting with a certain gratefulness dominating your expression. "I like that."

The final sentence causes his breath to hitch in his throat. "You do?"

You bob your head in affirmation. A split second of somewhat comfortable silence passes, your gazes persisting trained solely on each other. Then, "I saw you last night, outside my house."

Damn. "I was on my way back to my ship. Managed to stumble across you."

Your brows raise with inquisitiveness. "You saw me? Why didn't you at least wave?"

"I was... in a rush."

"Understandable," you answer with a curt nod. You release a puff of breath before your eyes flash with visible seductiveness, causing Din to anticipate your next words. "Your armor's worn-out. Even more damaged than the last time I saw you. Rough hunt?"

His helmet tips down towards the beskar cuirass plating his chest. Countless dents and scratches ruin the brownish-red paint of the indestructible metal. Its covered in grime and dust, as is the rest of his armor, plenty more damaged than the previous occasion Din decided to land on Tatooine. The sudden realization that he should've at least scrubbed the soot off before venturing out here hits him, a slight embarrassment overwhelming him. "Yeah... armor's seen better days."

"Well, my shift's over. Droid's taken control now," you gesture with your head towards the service droid serving multiple people at the bar. A confident smirk makes its appearance across your expression before your hand slides towards his own, still placed over the table. Despite the leather preventing genuine contact, your touch is welcome and pleasant. "Maybe I can pass by your ship — the Razor Crest, is it? I could help out, polish your armor, perhaps?"

The offer is nearly irrefutable. Yet there's one minor setback that creeps into his mind.

"I-I don't think your... boyfriend will appreciate that."

Confusion etches your features as you slip your fingers away. "Boyfriend? I— oh, no. That guy yesterday? My cousin. Took time off last night so I could see him. He just landed here to quickly visit me before returning to his work earlier today."

Realization strikes him straight in the gut. His mouth opens to spit out an apology, before swiftly shutting it when a string of curses escapes your mouth, head ducking down upon spotting something, or someone. "What?"

You peer over Din's shoulders before dipping down again, hand on your forehead to obscure your face. "I may have promised someone a date," your voice is hushed even despite the noise resounding through the cantina. "I originally wasn't going accept. But he's so damn persistent. So, I told him to come here after I finished my shift, that way I'd be gone and I wouldn't have to deal with him. But he's here now, earlier than I expected."

The Mandalorian's helmet whirls around towards the wide-open entrance. A Zabrak lingers by the doors, eyes examining the cantina in a careful manner, searching for none other than you, before he steps towards the usual bar. Din turns to face you again, thumb discreetly pointing towards the beige-colored Zabrak male. "Him?"

You nod, further unease notable in your body language. Without uttering a single word, you abruptly lift yourself from your seat, heading directly towards the exit.

Not even a goodbye.

Should've taken the damn offer. Would that have been so hard?

"Oh, look! She's right over there by the doors."

A mechanical voice alerts the Zabrak of your presence, before he whips around and calls your name upon spotting your form. Kriffin' droid. You freeze precisely before managing to step one foot outside the building. Your shoulders visibly tense, though you stand firmly, back facing the Zabrak as he stalks towards you. His sizable hand clutches onto your arm, forcing you around. An unfamiliar, strange feeling sneaks into Din's mind upon watching his harsh manners, dominating his every action and movements.

I get jealous, but who wouldn't when you look like you do?

"Forget my—"

The Zabrak's deep voice is interrupted when you yank your arm away from his grasp, pacing forward in a menacing demeanor. "As a matter of fact, I didn't forget," you cross your arms over your chest, eyes practically boring holes into that horned head of his. "I don't need to go on a damn date with you if I don't want it. And right now—"you tilt your head, a poised smirk appearing on your red lips. "—I simply don't want to." With that, you spin around without offering another word.

You're so sure it makes me insecure...

The Zabrak can't seem to take a hint before he begins to swiftly pursue you. Din is unable to perceive anything else when the both of you exit the cantina. He can't wait anymore, sit around and watch. Sure, you can deal with the situation perfectly fine, as you'd done countless times in the past. But for once, Din urges himself to help. An impulse to protect you. His hand shifts towards his holster by pure instinct as he saunters through the exit, only for him to freeze in his spot. You're menacingly holding a sharp blade against the Zabrak's exposed neck, before he abruptly staggers backwards, holding his hands up in a surrendering manner.

You chuckle, before your eyes land on the Mandalorian lingering around, a certain glimmer present in your eyes. "Besides—" you're directing your words towards the Zabrak while stepping towards Din. "I've other plans tonight."

Your gentle hands grip onto Din's bicep, lightly tugging him forward and beckoning him to follow. Your touch causes an unfamiliar heat to erupt throughout his entire body, predominating his emotions. It's not due to the humidity of the planet, no... it's just... it's you. You're causing all this and he can't control himself no matter how much effort he put into it.

Just one touch is so electric...

He goes along with your suggestion, no hesitation whatsoever as you step away from the grumbling Zabrak. He recognizes he shouldn't mess with a Mandalorian, especially if the urge to protect the person he's constantly thinking about is present.

When he tips his head down to glance towards your direction, your lips are curled upwards into a smirk. Not the one you held while attempting to rid of the irritating Zabrak. There is a certain mischief written all over your features.

"Your ship?"

Oh, what the hell.

How could he resist a piece of you?

#let me tell you something #he may be completely clueless when it comes to flirting #and all that kind of stuff #but din djarin knows how to treat a woman #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #star wars #din djarin imagines #star wars x reader #din djarin x reader imagines #brown eyes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

Can you do a one-shot where the reader was born in 1996 and she’s the daughter of Nikki Sixx and Brandi Brandt and is the bassist and songwriter of Wallows and is best friends with her bandmates Dylan Minnette, Braeden Lemasters, and Cole Preston and she helps 5sos write songs for the album Calm and starts dating Ashton and the fans go nuts (in the good way) with shipping?

Wallowing

ashton Irwin x wallows!reader / masterlist

warnings; references to sex, swearing, threats

“Come in babe.” You opened the door, inviting your boyfriend Ashton into your flat. He had been having a hard day at the studio, and had asked if it was alright if he came over. Of course it was, but he had got a warning prior to his arrival, that they would not be alone, and that if he wanted to clear his head, it was certainly not the right place.

“Fuck you, you’re supposed to be on my side man!” At the sound of Dylan, yelling at whom you supposed to be Cole, you pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut as you welcomed your partner into your home sweet home. Out of all days, they had to be playing COD in your apartment today.

“Sorry bout that.” A light grimace filled your face, but instead of giving you criticism, Ashton simply laughed, following you through the apartment, as you tried to slowly pass behind your band mates who were occupying your living room.

“Not so fast young Sixx, get your well endowed ass back here.” A sigh fell from your mouth as you rolled your eyes at Braeden, pausing your movements as he turned to lean against the back of your couch to peer over at you. “We need to have a conversation little lady.”

Groaning, you threw your head back, smiling a small apology towards Ash. “We were going to go to my room, I’d rather just you guys play my PS4 without needing to interact with me face to face.”

“Would you rather he FaceTime you whilst you’re getting down and dirty, or stand there like a kid’s doll and allow him to pull at your arm?” Dylan mumbled, as you crossed your arms, Ash greeting your band mates as you moved towards the tv, reaching for the side button and turning it off.

“Y/n what the hell?” Cole half screamed, breaking loose as he was close to finally beating Minette and killing his gamer character. His hands flailed as he expected an answer, raising in the air as he held the remote.

“I could ask you the same thing Preston, so what’s the schtick that’s making you keep me here, in my own apartment?” He gulped as you enquired at him, raising your brow, as you leaned back into your partner who stood awkwardly behind you like a supporting shadow.

“Congrats on the album Irwin, it’s great to see our own band member aiding your band. CALM is sick, and she makes me feel the same, just in a different manner.”

“Stop being a salty little bitch would you?” You asked, smacking him on the upside of the back of his head. He rutted his head back, clasping the behind of his scalp with his palm, firmly turning back to cast an icy glare towards you.

This was the normal behaviour around here, you all enjoyed getting under each other’s skin. It was a sign of true friendship, that whilst sometimes still triggering some real annoyance, that made your bond of being band mates that much deeper.

They were doing the same thing to you now, speaking prolifically showering your boyfriend in compliments, to side swab you with cockblockery. In all honesty, whenever Lydia or another girl was on the premises, you returned the favour, though that did not your pulsating frustration decrease at all.

“I’m going to assume there’s a problem here. Are you sure now is a good time for me to be here?” Ash asked reassuringly, his gentle touch applying a loving presence upon your shoulder, making you smile despite the situation that was running through the discourse of your veins

You craved him, to feel his body atop, or under, or however else against your own. It was infuriating to endure how your band mates dragged their greeting to him out, all you wanted was to discard his and your own clothing, leaving it as a jumble of forgotten material on the floor whilst the pair of you were caught up in mess upon the mattress, limbs inclined to coil around each arch, and breaths long overdue and escaping into the air.

“It’s a good time for you overall pal, considering that your sales are sky high, taller than this one that is practically trying to hump your arm. No problems with your presence, except the fact that it’s turning little Brandi’s baby’s hormones into overdrive.” Braeden spoke, earning a guttural growl out from your throat, as your nostrils flared furiously at his words.

If you didn’t get on with it, then the Red Sea of the month would cause a flood that would stain your underwear. You’d have preferred to take action before that happened. “The work isn’t just on my shoulders loser, if you want a worldwide selling album, put in some elbow grease, instead of playing stupid games.”

“I’m good, and by definition that makes you stupid, because they belong to you.” He remarked, Cole chuckling and offering him a high five.

“I could just kick you out.” You promptly supposed, as Dylan messed around with his phone, surrendering to the game, as he ran his hand to define the ruggedness of his silvery blue locks.

“Band rules say no to that.” Braeden stated. “And Ash, feel free to replace this one, we could do a switch. You’re basically ready to move in together, so we wouldn’t have to go anywhere else to have rapid fire nights.”

“Do I even want to know what that is?” Your boyfriend asked, and you, without any thought or hesitancy, shook your head. He certainly didn’t need to know about that, it was, least to say, a mess.

There would be dares, and drinks, and tattoos put in the most awkward places with that artist set that you kept very far under your bed. It was a shock that Ashton hadn’t seen the word ‘narwhale’ on the heel of your foot, or maybe he did, and decided against saying anything.

“I put up with these idiots.” Dylan sighed, though as you whipped your head around, you saw that he was not speaking directly to any of you, instead, his

“He’s on fucking insta live.” Cole realised, leaving over to get his face in the mirroring of the stream, waving a hand to the fans that spewed hearts onto the corner of the screen.

“Prick.” You called Dylan out, watching as he laughed at your lack of amusement, and poised the self proclaimed camera towards you, also catching the person beside you in the view.

“Calm.” Ashton softly spoke, sending you a small and reassuring smile, which you were defeated to not permit the same in return

“Funny pun Irwin, but shut up.” You laughed, and shook your head, him finally catching onto what he had said.

“Yes that is the incredibly talented 5SOS member Ashton Irwin. I know right, what is he doing with us?” Cole read, watching as Dylan rolled his eyes at his band member’s behaviour, wanting to get his phone back, though his attempts were lacklustre.

“Or more specifically, her?” Braeden asks, walking behind the sofa and grasping him, dragging him closer to where the phone was propped in Cole’s hand, giving the fans a clear image of his face. “Is he joining the band?” He reads from the flood of comments. “I wish, but we don’t draw that much talent.

“Speak for yourself.” You groaned, walking closer, leaning your head over Ash’s hunched shoulder, releasing an awkward smile as he raised it, gently bumping your chin with the slope of his muscle. “Rude.”

“Where are you guys? Well, we’re at y/n’s apartment. She just got back and dragged this old slugger in off the streets. How charitable.” Cole spoke, smiling up at Irwin as he lightly punched his face, already too comfortable with his hovering presence.

“Why is he there? This one makes me laugh, quick shag, ain’t that right buddy?” Braeden thoughtlessly worded, his eyes going wide in an instant as the fans quickly tended to the realisation of what he had meant. “Fuck, oops I guess.”

To say that you were furious was an understatement; you could feel an ache in your hands, wanting to tear the idiot into dismal pieces until there was nothing salvageable left to fix.

“You guess?” Dylan snickers, covering his mouth with his hand whence he saw your murderous expression conquer features. It was vastly more terrifying than any anger you had ever portrayed, and he could feel the couch moving as Braeden turned, and squirmed from the sight.

“Lemasters, imagine your head on a stick. That is going to happen, when I get my hands on you, your gonna turn cold as I strangle the living shit outta-“ Ashton grabbed you, as your arms tried to grasp and throttle your band mate, flopping in the air, intently furious at his revealing slip up.

“I think imma go.” He bolted, and as you struggled out of Ashton’s grip, you ran after him, out your front door and through the modesty of your building.

“She forgot her key.” Ashton noted, coming around and sitting with the remaining pair on the sofa. “How one of you think it’ll take for them to return?”

“As long as it takes for her to kill him.” Dylan grasps his phone back, fluttering his gaze over the comments. “They’re kinda cute together, found my new OTP. Sorry Dylan and Lydia. Oh don’t worry, that’s fine, we gotta take what we get and currently y/n’s not getting any because we have a tendency to cockblock her.”

“It’s our duty as the men of the band.” Cole spoke, a scream reverberating through from the hallway, audible to those online that were watching the two worlds merging.

“I think she got him.” Ash said, smirking lightly, as he heard your voice bellow out in rage against the male. Yep, your band was messy, but his wasn’t much different. He could certainly get used to it.

#ashton irwin x you #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin fluff #ashton imagine #ashton irwin imagine #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin fic #ashton fanfiction #ashton fluff #ashton irwin x y/n #5sos x reader #5sos au #5sos imagines #5sos one shot #5sos imgaines #5sos imagine #5sos x you #5sos x oc #5sos fic

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whentheynameyoujoy · 4 years

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So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

youtube

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

#atla #atla movie #zutara #anti bryke #dev patel #the last airbender #anti-kataang

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mmprviolet · 3 years

Text

If you ships these then dni (joke) no srs if you prefer these ships I don't care 😆 just wanna have a fun roasting my notps

Salt undercut

Batcat: Every time DC&stans push them as One True Love I just shake my head. It annoys me how Bruce's other love interests get put down to prop Selina on a pedestal; at the same time reducing Selina to be just his 'savior' or therapist. She's a compelling character in her own right! This why I don't want her part of the Batfam. Plus Bruce wouldn't do good with an active criminal for a permanent love/spouse even if it is Selina.

Bal: I feel nothing for this ship, Bevie has more chemistry than this. Plus I feel like others have doen a better job explaining why this ship is so bad better than me

Lance simped for Our Queen the whole show when it was made quite clear she wasn't interested in him like that. You'd think he would learn personal boundaries 😒 Here's the weird part she ended up using him as a rebound after her brief fling with Lotor failed!! And the rest of the season is spent with how he's such a perfect boyfriend for her while ignoring his individual growth.

Do I even NEED to say it?

Harumi manipulated Lloyd that whole season and desecrated his father's grave for revenge. She gave him a slew of trust issues. Even if she was alive and redeemed there's just be too much bad blood to ever be actual friends, much less a couple

They bring out the worst in each other yet OV can't help but push how they're fated to be together. If Kai has to be called out call out Ben too for knocking doen her interests in Fight At The Museum!

Ah yes nothing like ruining the point of the first movie by creating one of the most blandest heroines in Disney and pairing her with Quasi simply to appease complaints about him not getting the girl! So much emphasis on 'true beauty' and showing how much they have in common when she had no personality. It's basically "give the bachelor a consolation prize/Sequel Movie Love Story" cliche.

I don't mind Catra and Adora making up I just didn't want them together romantically. But you know everything's gotta be a damn romance

You can make as many petitions as you want two rivals aren't going to comply to your wishes! Plus it's really shallow: they both have ice powers and that's about it!

Once Archie stopped with that obnoxious 'opposites attract' soap opera shit Sonally became much more bearable. Their personalities clashed too much for any stability

Imma get so much hate but I say it: Pixane is only a thing because they needed to give Zane a love interest who just so happens to be a robot because pairing him with a human is too complicated the same with Kailor she has like the same personality traits as him it doesn't leave very interesting points to explore (not helped by her not appearing in the show much already)

The implication that you have to apologize to your abuser for rightfully getting mad at them, getting back together and then getting engaged *barf* all it does is show that even if they hurt you in such a way you HAVE to get back together. This why I call M'gann a creator's pet

I don't get romance vibes from Jasonnie but other than that i just don't see them as a thing. O ship Jason with my si/oc Vanessa and I ship Connie with an OC (or Jeff, Mitch can go)

Amethyst Ocean has an insane popularity and half the time I see it leech traits exclusive to the Grey Ghost Ship/Valerie. The show tried so hard to push this ship without addressing any of its faults and the stans ate it right up. Otherwise Danny&Sam is a bad example of the "male lead x female lead" trope

Nothing bad to say about it - well except for the extremists ofc - but I prefer Sonamy to just be ship tease/friendship. Trying to turn it into a serious romance kinda ruins the point plus I hate seeing Amy regulated to just Girlfriend when she's so much more than that

Reylo Reylo REYLO ugh I'm not wasting any more words on this heinous crime against manatees!

#Notp #i don't ship it #meme #gonna post on da #salt post #shipping

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cora-vizsla · 4 years

Text

The Kings Pet (2)

Chapter 2

Rated: Explicit (18+)

Work Count: 5K+

Warning: Smut, Dom!Boba, sub!reader, dirty talk, teasing, edging, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (established relationship)

Authors Note: If I missed any tags/warnings, please let me know! Part one is here and has warnings and if you feel like it needs to be added let me know. Thank you to everyone who shared and liked it. I very much so appreciate it!

It was comfortable; the routine you were in. There was very little time that you had to be by yourself, which was absolutely new. Most of your life had been spent on your own so even though the companionship was uncomfortable sometimes, it was welcomed. Even though Boba was often gruff, he was bordering soft with you.

You knew he deeply cared about you. That much was obvious. The way he always made sure you were fed and comfortable spoke volumes to you. You didn’t need words of affirmation when everything he did for you was for your benefit. You may have been the one on the floor by his feet, but he was the one ensuring you never went without.

On the day that a bright silver man came in armor very similar to Boba’s, you took notice of how quiet everyone in the room became. His footsteps echoed and everyone seemed to tense except for the man you were leaning against. He turned to face the throne fully, but his helmet stayed on.

“Din.”

“Boba.”

His helmet moved slightly so it was pointed to you but looked back up at the armored man above you. Neither of them seemed ill at ease but if he was anything like your Master, he wasn’t much of a talker.

“What brings you to my palace?”

“I’m sure you’ve heard that while saving the child I ended up with the Dark Saber.”

Boba immediately barked out a laugh which made you jump out of shock. He continued laughing and leaned forward, resting his hand gently on the top of your head.

“Sorry, mesh’la, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You gave him a smile and nodded. You had started to pick up on the affectionate things he said to you in Mando’a and it made your heart seize. He still called you pet most of the time, but the times where he did break just that tiny bit and call you sweet things made your heart swell. You saw the visor of who he called Din look at you again.

“Fennec told me about the princesses incessant need to win the saber through battle.”

“I don’t want to fight her. I tried to yield. I have no interest in the throne of Mandalore.”

“You should take it just to spite her. Though she’s already lost it twice. Perhaps she should stick to ruling cantina tables and hunting down Imperial ships.”

Din shifted his weight and sighed, resting his hand on his blaster holder. Normally Boba would have been on his feet firing but Din really just seemed exhausted. You weren’t sure how you knew that considering you hadn’t seen his face, but his entire body was screaming he just wanted to rest.

“What do you need of me?”

“I’m going to Mandalore to leave the saber there. If she wants it so badly, she can just take it. If it leaves my hands on her planet perhaps, she won’t pursue me anymore. I could use some backup.”

“Do you think she will chase you?”

“Yes.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

“Yes.”

“Does she know you’re going to ask me for backup?”

“Yes.”

“So, then I get to shoot her ship.”

“If it comes to that, yes.”

“Let me pack my things.”

He leaned forward and lifted your chin towards him gently.

“Stay here, mesh’la. Keep Din company while I prepare myself and give Fennec instructions. You’ll stay here with her. I don’t want you put in harms way.”

You gave him a small pout but nodded. He chuckled as he stood up and left the throne room. Everyone else seemed to get back to business but Din stood there, presumably staring at you. It made you a little uncomfortable which was confusing. People looked at you all the time but not as intently as he was.

“He speaks to you in Mando’a. Do you understand it?”

“No. I usually just interpret it with his tone. If he’s angry, it isn’t good. If he’s cheerful, it’s a good thing.”

“Boba is cheerful?”

You let out a small giggle and cover your face. You felt bad laughing at the idea but what he said was what everyone always thought, they were just too afraid to say it.

“He can be. Not when people come here asking him for things but when no one is bothering him.”

“Were you here when he took the palace?”

You felt your face heat up when you realized he was trying to figure out your relationship with Boba.

“No. I was brought here for stealing. When he found out why I stole he took pity on me and made a deal with me. He would protect me and absolve me of my crimes if I..”

You weren’t sure how to explain the dynamic in a way that wouldn’t make you sound like a slave. To be honesty, you weren’t really sure what your connection to him was anymore. You did have sex with him, but it wasn’t like you didn’t want to. You were always more than willing and eager to do whatever he wanted to do.

“Is he forcing you to stay here?”

“What? No! Not at all. I.. I like being here with him. I’m sure it looks odd.”

“I am not judging you. He seems to care for you.”

Your face started to heat up again and you tried to make yourself smaller.

“I think he does. It’s not like I asked him.”

He hummed and walked over, sitting on the raised flooring. He wasn’t next to you but much closer than anyone else had dared to do so. You glaced over at the door to the throne room and Din chuckled.

“He won’t be mad. There aren’t enough Mandalorians left for us to kill each other unless it’s life or death.”

“Your armor looks much newer than his.”

“It is. Mine was crafted in pure beskar and his was his fathers. He didn’t tell you that?”

You shook your head, feeling very small. In reality you knew very little of the man. It didn’t matter much to you. What mattered was how he treated you.

“He is an honorable man. He helped me with the most important task I’ve ever been given. Someday I will pay him back for that.”

“Who.. who is Bo-Katan?”

“An entitled princess who thinks she is better than everyone else she meets.”

You turned your head and smiled as Boba walked towards you. Fennec was right behind him and she flopped down in the throne, propping her leg up on one of the arm rests. Boba sighed at her but turned his attention back to you.

“Walk with me to my ship, mesh’la. I want your face to be the last I see before I leave.”

You furrowed your brow and glanced at Din who was shaking his head. You walked with Boba up the steps and into the burning sun. You pulled your hand up to shield your eyes from the light, and he chuckled, quickly pulling you up the ramp of Slave I. You looked around at the inside realizing it was the first time you had been in his ship.

“Fennec will be with you the entire time. She will keep you safe. Do you need anything before you go?”

“No, sir.”

“You look sad, pet.”

“I.. I will admit I don’t want you to leave.”

“I would prefer not dealing with Bo-Katan as well. If it weren’t dangerous, I would bring you with me.”

“I’ve never been off Tattooine before.”

He reached out, gloved hands cupping the sides of your face. You smiled up at him and put your hands gently on the metal covering his chest.

“Someday, little one, I’ll show you the entire galaxy. Would you like that?”

“Very much so. But.. you don’t need to do all of that for me. You already do so much.”

“Hush now. Everything I do for you is because I want to take care of you, pet. You’re such a good girl for me.”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded to him.

“I’m going to miss you, mesh’la. There are some things I need you to do for me though.”

“Anything. What is it?”

He used his thumb to push your chin up slightly, exposing your neck to him before moving his hand down to lightly grip the base of your neck. You tried to suppress a shiver but when you failed, he chuckled lowly at you.

“I want you to spend my time away thinking of all the ways I like to pleasure you. I want you to think about my face between your legs as I make you cum in my mouth. Can you do that?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Then I want you to think about the way I feel between your legs as I have you on your back. I want you to remember what it feels like to scream my name while I pound into that tight pussy of yours. Can you do that too?”

You whimper and nod, gasping when his hand starts to tighten on you.

“Ah, you know the rules, pet. Aren’t you supposed to use words when talking to me?”

“Y-yes. Yes, I can do that, sir.”

“Good girl. Next I want you to think about all the times I’ve had you ride my cock while I sit on the throne. Think about what it feels like to have yourself stretched out around me.”

“O-okay. Okay I will.”

“One last thing though.”

“Yes, sir?”

He kept one hand on your throat and ran the other down your body, moving inward until he had his hand roughly cupping you between your legs. He moved his helmet, so the face was right by your ear and you whimpered when his voice came out in a growl.

“You can’t touch yourself. You can’t put your pretty little fingers anywhere near your pretty little cunt. I want you wanting and needy for me when I come back. Do you understand?”

A whine ripped from your throat and you sounded ridiculous to yourself, but Boba practically purred out praise for you.

“Head back inside, pet. Remember what you promised me, and I will be back to you as soon as I can.”

“B-be safe?”

He pulled your head forward and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I’ll be back to you soon, mesh’la.”

It had been two weeks and to say you were frustrated was an understatement. You swore that Fennec knew what he had said to you because she hadn’t shut up about sex since Slave I took off. You hardly said anything, but your patience was wearing thin.

You thought about not doing what Boba had asked of you but getting the imagery he had pushed into your head to stop playing had been proving to be impossible. You were sure that it would have crossed your mind anyway but hearing him verbalize all of it had made you needy before he even left. You huffed out what you were sure was the ten thousandth sigh of the hour and Fennec finally leaned forward to look at you.

“Alright, huffy, mind telling me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

You realized how unbelievable you sounded when you grumbled and crossed your arms over your chest. She quickly pulled you up, so you were sitting next to her with your legs tossed across her lap. You squeaked when she pulled you up, shocked at how strong she was.

“You’ve been positively pouting for weeks.”

“I’m fine.”

“All you do is sigh and squirm down there. I’ve never seen you so much as move more than once an hour when Boba is here. Are you uncomfortable with me?”

“What? No! Of course not.”

“Then what is it, sweetheart?”

“I just.. I’m just doing what he asked of me while he’s gone.”

“To be impatient?”

“No.. to.. think of certain things.”

Realization flashed across her face far too quickly for her not to have known before you spoke. She tucked your hair behind your ear and sighed.

“You poor thing. No wonder why you’re so uncomfortable. Why don’t you scurry into the bed and take care of that? I can’t believe you haven’t already.”

“I.. can’t.”

“Why? Do you not know how to?”

“Of course, I do! Maker, Fennec. I’m not a child.”

She laughed and smiled at you.

“Then what is the problem?”

“I’m.. not allowed to take care of it.”

“Is that what he said?”

“Yes. He said I can’t.. touch down there.”

“That you can’t take care of yourself?”

“Yes. Why are you even asking this?”

“Well, I mean technically there are still ways for you to feel some relief.”

You looked at her and crossed your arms.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, I was told to take care of you. I’m to give you whatever you need, just like he would.”

She placed her hand on your thigh and you thought your chest was going to cave in. You could see that Fennec was beautiful, but the idea had never even passed your mind. She chuckled and tiled her head, looking at you.

“I know you’re his obedient little pet but there are always ways to still listen to him and do what you want.”

“He would be furious.”

“Would he? Or would he be impressed that you thought of a way to obey him and be happy?”

“I.. I don’t know.”

She hummed and sat back, looking out at everyone. You thought to yourself about what she was saying. He did want you resourceful but at the same time you had never even considered not fully and wholeheartedly listening to him.

“I don’t.. think it’s a good idea.”

“Whatever you choose. I think you can suffer for one more day anyway.”

“What?”

“Oh? I didn’t tell you? He will be back tomorrow.”

You looked at her and realized that she offered it knowing he would be back. You huffed and moved off her, trying to seem much madder than you were. In all honestly knowing he would be back soon made it even worse for you. Now not only were they memories running through your head, but they were your not so distant future.

The minute Boba returned he barked for everyone to leave. Fennec gave you a knowing smirk and sauntered out of the room, a bottle of blue alcohol in her hand. You stayed perfectly still, trying to act like you hadn’t been in agony for the last two weeks. He walked towards you and motioned for you to come to him. You scrambled across the floor, crawling not wanting to waste the time to stand up. Once you got to the edge of the stage you sat on your knees, your hands gently resting on your thighs.

“Mesh’la, you have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

You smiled up at him and he pulled his helmet off, setting it next to you. You inhaled sharply, surprised that he took his helmet off so quickly. You looked up at his rugged face and bit your bottom lip. You missed him somuch.

“I didn’t think it was possible to miss Tattooine so much, but then again I didn’t think anyone like you would be waiting for me to get back.”

“I missed you.”

He reached forward and laced his fingers through your hair, balling his hand tightly into a fist and pulling to tilt your head back. You gasped and his lips turned into a smirk.

“Did you do what I asked of you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Such a good girl for me.”

He rewarded you by leaning forward and hungrily kissing you. You parted your lips easily for him, letting him invade your mouth with his tongue. He broke away and you whimpered at the loss of contact, reaching out to grasp at his chest armor.

“Such a needy little thing. Go to our room and wait for me. I’ll be in soon.”

You nodded and immediately pulled yourself to your feet, heading into the back. There had been a time when you had your own room, but after a while you stopped leaving his room at night. You knew he had given you your own space to make sure that you were comfortable and didn’t feel trapped, but it also made you lonely. Like you had told Din, you wanted to be with him.

You sat on the bed and thought about how much things had changed. You had been desperate just to live at first, happy to do whatever he may want knowing he was the reason you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere. You had expected him to be rude and uncaring. Although he was always in charge, he never made you feel like you didn’t matter as a person. All the horrible scenarios you had pushed out of your head as he made his offer had never come true.

“You seem lost in thought.”

You smiled up at Boba walking into the room. He stopped, dropping his bag by the wall and turned back to face you.

“Come here, mesh’la. Help me with my armor.”

You stood fluidly and walked to him, gently and carefully unhooking all the beskar armor he wore. He stood still, watching you, until all he had left was his helmet. You reached your hands out, gently resting it on the bottom, waiting for him to tell you if he wanted that off or not. Often times he kept it on which unnerved you a bit, but it was exhilarating to never know how he was feeling. The noises you could elicit from him told you how much he liked certain things and that in of itself was satisfying.

“Go ahead, pet. Let me look at you without the barrier.”

You lifted it off him and smiled when you saw him smiling down at you. He had been reserved at first, barely showing any emotion past lust. The longer you were around him the more he showed you his happiness and amusement. It was something that you alone were privy to experiencing. He took the helmet from you and set it on the closest surface, pulling you into his arms as soon as they were empty.

“How was your mission, sir?”

“Successful. Never mind that now though. Fennec tells me that my pet has been rather needy while I was gone.”

You felt your face heat up, so you looked down at his chest. He hooked your chin to make you look at him again and gave you a stern look.

“Don’t look away from me, pet. I’ve missed those beautiful eyes. In fact, you’re all I could think about at all. Glad Din isn’t much of a talker or I would have probably driven him nuts.”

You let out a small laugh as he started to walk you backwards until your knees hit the mattress. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours until he grabbed your hips and tossed you backwards, further on the bed. You squeaked in surprise making him chuckle deeply. He crawled up the bed until he was propped up over you, his waist slotted between your legs.

“This right here is where I belong.”

Your face started heating up again but there was absolutely no getting away from him. He stared down at you intently before moving down to kiss and bite at your neck. You let out a shuttering breath and tilted your head to the side which only spurred him on. When he moved to the base of your neck he bit down hard and you gasped loudly, arching your back slightly.

“You’re always so responsive for me, mesh’la. You have far too many clothes on though.”

He sat back and yanked you up into a sitting position and pulled your shirt off before you could even begin to help. He grabbed the front of your breast band and yanked, snapping it in half. You protested but he quickly pushed you back down and chuckled.

“I’ll buy you more, pet.”

He left little room to argue before he was yanking your pants down your legs. It always took your breath away when he was so aggressive with you, and by the look on his face he knew it. Sooner than seemed possible, you were entirely naked laying in front of him.

“How did an old man get so lucky to have someone as beautiful as you in his bed.”

“You aren’t old.”

He chuckled and crawled forward, spreading your legs and kissing the inside of your thighs.

“Older than you.”

“You’re the king. You could have anyone you want. You’ll trade me in for someone younger and more beautiful soon enough.”

He bit down on your thigh and you gasped loudly, clutching at the sheets below you.

“None of that talk. You are mine and you aren’t going anywhere. Understand?”

You nodded quickly so he smoothed over the bite mark with his tongue. You sighed as he continued moving up your legs until he reached the joint of your hip and stopped. You suppressed a moan and tried to stay as still as possible.

“Look at you, pet. Absolutely needy and wanting for me. Such a good girl doing exactly what I asked of you. How much did you think of me?”

“All the time.”

Your voice sounded whiney and you grimaced when he chuckled and roughly massaged your thighs.

“And you didn’t touch yourself, right?”

“No, sir. I did everything you asked of me.”

“But you wanted to?”

“Y-yes.”

“You’d rather do that than have me take care of it?”

“No! No, maker no.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure I believe you, pet. I think you should take care of it yourself while I watch.”

“W-what? I.. Why?”

He gripped your thighs tightly and you gasped again.

“Don’t question me, girl. Do as I tell you to. Show me how you would have taken care of it if I had let you.”

Your chest was heaving as you ran your shaky hand down your body until you found your clit. He kept your legs spread open and watched as you began to gently rub yourself. Your needy body responded quickly since it had been weeks since you had been touched by any hand.

“Look at me.”

His voice growled out and you immediately obeyed. You gasped at the intent look on his face and sped up slightly without consciously doing it. You felt your orgasm start to rush towards you, so much quicker than you were expecting. Your legs started tensing in his hands and right before you were about to hit your peak, he snatched your hand away. You gasped loudly and squirmed at the sensation suddenly stopping. He watched you squirm, but he made no move to touch you.

“Come here and undress me.”

You let out a shaky breath but moved towards him, your climax slipping away from you the more you focused on the task in front of you. You pulled all his clothes off of him with relative ease, counting in the fact that your hands were shaking the entire time. He said nothing as you pulled off his pants and his already hard cock sprang forward. You desperately wanted to wrap your hands around it but instead sat back on your knees waiting for him to tell you what he wanted.

“Lay back down.”

You started leaning backwards but he grabbed behind your knees and yanked, knocking you backwards quickly. He spread your legs again and moved so he was laying on his stomach, hooking your legs over his shoulders. Without warning, he leaned forward and licked through your soaking wet folds. You moaned loudly and squirmed. He latched his hands on your hips and held you down roughly as he covered your clit with his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it before starting to move directly against the already sensitive bud. When he removed one of his hands from your hip and slipped two of his fingers into your aching cunt you moaned loudly and gripped at the sheets, desperate to hold onto something. He hummed against you and you could feel your orgasm building again, almost painfully so. The closer you got the faster he seemed to move, and your breath quickened. Right as it was about to hit you, he moved away. You screamed out in frustration and you heard him chuckle deeply.

“I meant to ask you, mesh’la. Why didn’t you take Fennec up on her offer?”

“What!?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, entire body shaking and tears pricking at your eyes. He looked completely calm with just the slightest smirk on his lips.

“Fennec. She asked you if you wanted her to take care of you while I was gone.”

“What? She told you that?”

“Of course, she did. Why did you turn her down? Technically she was right. I didn’t say no one else could touch you. Just told you that your fingers couldn’t.”

“I.. Wha-“

Saying you were frustrated was not even close to describing it. You shut your eyes and took a few calming breaths, desperately wanting to at least rub your legs together but he had moved back to gripping your thighs tightly, keeping your legs spread in front of him.

“I-I know that technically that wasn’t against what you said but.. I.. I didn’t think it was right to let anyone else touch me.”

“And what if I had given you permission?”

“I.. Uhm.. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Okay.”

He moved his mouth back down to your clit and you practically sobbed in relief. You fell back on the bed and moaned as he worked your overstimulated nub. He moved quickly and added in two fingers, pushing you towards the orgasm you desperately wanted. You tried to keep your body as still as possible, hoping that he wouldn’t figure out how close you were and pull away again. To your absolute agony, he stopped right before you could get your release. You sobbed out and laced your fingers through your hair roughly in frustration.

“What!? Boba, please!”

“Please what, pet?”

You sobbed again and covered your face, tears starting to fall from the corners of your eyes.

“Please. Please I need you.”

“How do you need me? Be clear, mesh’la.”

“P-please let me cum! Please I’ve waited so long for you to get back. I need you to make me cum pl-“

“Tell me what you need to me do, pet.”

“I-I just need you! Whatever you want. Please. Please, sir.”

“That doesn’t work for me, little one. I need you to let me know exactly what you want.”

“I-I.. use your mouth?”

“That didn’t sound like you were very sure.”

“Fuck! Use your mouth on my cunt, sir. Please. Please let me cum I need you.”

“Was that so hard?”

You grit your teeth and did everything you could not to scream in frustration. He chuckled again but does exactly what you asked of him. He moved down and sucked lightly on your clit while he worked his tongue against it. His fingers pumped in and out of you, curling upwards to hit the spot that drives you absolutely wild. You’re a moaning and squirming mess as your body raced towards the orgasm, he had been denying you. You screamed out, arching your back as you finally tip over that edge. He continued to work you as you screamed and moaned from his touch. Once you came down, he climbed back up you and kissed you.

“You have quite the dirty mouth when you’re frustrated.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your voice was breathless and calm as you lazily blinked up at him. He smirked and pressed himself forward, so his cock was up against your entrance.

“I’m not. I love hearing you beg for me. I think I’ll make you do it more often.”

You tried to protest but quickly silenced yourself as he pushed inside of you. You were still sensitive but had missed the feeling of him inside of you so much. He let out a groan once he was fully slotted inside of you, somehow always making you feel more full than the last time.

“Stars, princess, it’s like your body was made for mine.”

You nodded and he started moving lazily inside of you. He leaned forward and captured your mouth with his, kissing you as he slowly moved in and out of you. You were used to him roughly fucking you any time he was able to, but you decided right away that what he was doing was amazing. That continued on for what felt like ages and you moaned and sighed at everything he was making you feel.

“Tell me who you belong to, mesh’la.”

“You, Boba.”

“Anyone else?”

“No. Just you.”

“Who do you want to make you cum?”

“You. Stars, always you.”

He let out a satisfied growl and started moving quicker, pushing you closer to a second orgasm. You pulled his face back down to yours, kissing him as his body slammed against yours.

“That’s it, cyar'ika, I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

With three more thrusts, you were coming undone again. Boba moaned at the feeling of you tightening around him and with a few stuttering thrusts he came with you. He kissed you roughly as you came down and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Was that worth waiting?”

“Yes, stars yes.”

He slipped himself out of you and laid down on his back, pulling you close to him so you could rest your head on his shoulder. You traced your fingers across the scars he had on his chest and he hummed at the feeling.

“Did you mean it when you said you’d show me the galaxy?”

“Do I ever speak lies?”

“No.”

“Then that answers it for you.”

You nodded against him and nestled in closer. You felt sleep start to take you as he pulled the sheet across both of you. You had missed him terribly and finally felt the exhaustion of not sleeping well the entire time he was gone.

“Goodnight, mesh’la.”

“Goodnight, Boba.”

His arm tightened around you as sleep finally took you.

#boba fett x you #boba fett #the mandalorian #star wars #boba fett x reader #there is something wrong with me #i can't believe i wrote this

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elizabeethan · 4 years

Text

Forget What I Said (It’s Not What I Meant) 2/3

She continues to do what she does best. She ignores her feelings until she can’t anymore, and she deals with them by replacing them with the pleasure he brings her. A part of her tells her that she can’t continue doing this, but a bigger part of her tells her that it’s okay, because once they get back to Storybrooke, he’ll leave in favor of the sea or of finding another realm to pillage and plunder. Once he’s gone, she can forget any of this ever happened and move on.

It’s a perfect plan, except it doesn’t work. Because he stays.

Hello! @kmomof4 requested Monday morning smut and I am here to deliver. But remember, with great smut comes great angst. That is the way of CS fic. And so I give you part 2 of my @neverlandnewyear fic.

Also, @donteattheappleshook and I are aware that we’re basically writing the same fic. That’s how this all started. so enjoy a double dose of Neverland nonsense.

finally, thank you to @the-darkdragonfly for being my beta and my friend

rated E for smut and language

~3600 words

Part 1

Read on Ao3

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook

She’s got to stop doing this. She told herself it would end after they got home to Storybrooke. Once they got home and he went off to his pirate life, things would go back to normal for her and she could work on getting her life back together. She didn’t expect the bastard to stick around.

She certainly didn’t expect him to tell Neal that he was backing off.

“I thought you were going to leave,” she shouts angrily as she boards his stupid ship. He pops up from below deck, holding his hand over his eyes to block the harsh afternoon sun.

“Come again, Swan?”

She rolls her eyes and walks closer to him, approaching the steps to below deck with forceful pressure. “It’s been two weeks and you're still here. I thought you were leaving after we got home.”

He shrugs, leaning his propped-up elbow against the archway he stands in. “Sorry to disappoint, love.”

Huffing angrily, she turns from him and rolls her eyes once more. “So what, you're just gonna hang around now?”

“It’s quite a quaint little town,” he reasons.

“And where do you get off telling Neal you're backing off? You realize he’s not going to let it go now, right?”

He hums in a way that makes her so much angrier. “And that upsets you?”

“Yes it upsets me!” she shouts, throwing her arms up and letting them slap against her thighs as she spins to face him again. He straightens and raises a brow, stepping onto the main deck with her and getting just a bit too close.

“Is there anything to be done to rectify that, Swan?” he asks, his voice husky and rough and his eyes sparkling too much in the bright sun.

“No.”

“Nothing?”

She laughs breathily, angrily, and says, “shut up,” before grabbing onto his lapels and forcing their lips together in a heated kiss.

He chuckles against her, pulling her towards the ladder that leads below, to his quarters and out of the line of sight of anyone who may be walking by.

“We have to stop doing this,” she mumbles as he presses her against the steps once they get to the bottom. His lips find the sensitive skin of her neck as his body grinds into her’s, making her moan.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks breathily as he licks along her throat.

“No.”

Lifting her shirt above her head, his lips find her hardened nipple once he pushes the fabric of her bra away, licking and sucking in a way that makes her moan again. “Neither do I,” he says against her, the hot air blowing against her moistened skin making her shiver.

He trails his mouth down her torso, biting her flesh and soothing it with his tongue before he reaches the button of her jeans and pops it open. Sliding the fabric down her legs slowly, she feels the sharp, cool metal of his hook gliding along her skin and she shivers again, breath stuttering when she feels it brushing over the curls between her legs.

With a smirk, he lifts one of her legs above his shoulder, granting himself the access he needs as she sits on the edge of one of the steps. “I must say, I’m glad that we’re continuing our little tryst,” he says, his mouth so close to her core that she can feel his hot breath over her. “As much fun as we had amidst the trees, having you on my ship is something else entirely.”

She wants to tell him to stop talking so much, because she can’t stand to think about the fact that she’s allowing this to continue, but her words fall flat when he drags his tongue along her core, gathering her arousal and latching his lips to her clit. She lets out a breathy moan as he artfully traces her skin with his tongue before swirling a finger around her opening. He alternates the pressure and speed of his tongue against her before sliding his middle finger inside, curling it slightly and making her stomach flip as she moans again.

The way he touches her is addictive. She can’t stop herself from thrusting her hips into him slightly, longing for more from him and nearly slipping off the ladder as she does so. He chuckles against her and the reverberations makes her whimper pathetically before he slips a second finger inside. “Fuck,” she groans.

“That’s the idea, love. But not until you come for me first.”

A third finger finds its way into her and she cries out, squeezing around them as he speeds up his ministrations on her clip. He always knows exactly what she needs, and it’s something she tries, and fails, not to think about constantly. Perhaps if she had any semblance of self-control, she wouldn’t keep coming to him. But the way he touches her like he’s known her for centuries and the way he talks to her in exactly the right way is too good to pass up.

She comes hard around him, squeezing her walls on his fingers and her thighs on his head as she falls with a shout. He gives her almost no time to recover before he drops her leg and stands, holding the back of her knee with his hook and wrestling with the laces of his trousers before he’s thrusting himself inside her. Finally.

There’s nothing like the feeling of him buried in her. She can try and deny it all she wants, but she can’t ignore the fact that she’s never felt this good in her entire life. She likely never will again, once she finally puts a stop to this. She puts away the thoughts of ending this… thing between them in favor of focusing on the way he slides in and out of her effortlessly at the most perfect pace. She cries out when he flicks his fingers against her clit again. Her last orgasm was so powerful and so recent that she finds herself falling off the edge again in record time. “Don’t stop,” she begs, as she does every time, but he never does.

“Come on, love,” he encourages, thrusting a bit harder into her. “I can feel how close you are; come for me again.”

She listens to his commanding voice, because what choice does she have, really? He knows her body too well, and she can feel his smirk against her neck as she lets herself fall off the cliff’s edge once again before he follows suit. His own moans are muffled against her skin as he holds her tightly to himself. It’s too tight, they’re too close, but she can’t help herself from tightening her own hold around his shoulders as she catches her breath.

She realizes herself and loosens her grip, pushing on the front of his shoulders until he releases her leg and backs away from her. His chuckle is self-deprecating as he tosses her a small cloth. “Aloof as always, aye Swan?”

She rolls her eyes as she cleans herself up and hops back into her jeans. “We really have to stop doing this.”

“Why?”

She laughs, but it comes out as more of a scoff. “Because it’s a bad idea. We’re not… doing this,” she says, gesturing her hand towards him and shrugging.

“Well,” he says as he ties his laces back up. “It appears as if we are doing this. If you want to put a stop to it, I suppose you’ll need to discontinue your visits.”

She clears her throat, adjusting her top and trying to fix her hair. “I suppose I will,” she agrees.

“Of course,” he starts slowly, coyly, “no one said we have to stop.”

“We do,” she says immediately, shutting down any suggestions he may be considering making. “I have responsibilities; I can’t keep sneaking off like a teenager. I have to put my family first.”

“Ah,” he says, looking down at his feet and looking as insecure as she’s ever seen him. “So I can assume you’ve made your choice, then?” Stilling, she sighs and turns away from the ladder she was about to climb. “You do know that having feelings is not a bad thing.”

“I don’t…” She doesn't have anything to say.

It’s his turn to sigh. “Aye, love, I know. If you’d prefer we stop here, then that’s what we shall do.”

She shouldn’t be surprised that he isn’t putting up a fight. He’s a man of honor, as he often claims. The fact that he’s putting her needs above his own desires shouldn’t leave her speechless. But in reality, all she can think of is how hard Neal has been fighting to be with her, and how unwilling he has been to take no for an answer.

~~~~

“Emma!” Mary Margaret calls once she walks through the door. She probably should have checked on the appearance of her hair and clothes before she walked home, but she’s hopeful that no one will know what she was up to in the middle of the afternoon.

“Hi,” she says back as she shuts the door.

“Where were you? We missed you after breakfast.”

“Uh,” she starts, her cheeks flaming and her steps towards the fridge halting. “I was, um—”

“Oooh,” her mother responds with a smirk. “I see.”

“What?” Emma demands as she takes a few more steps and grabs a water bottle from the fridge.

With a coy chuckle, her mother says, “Emma, you’re blushing, and your shirt is… well,” as she nods downwards. When Emma looks that way, she sees a bit of her bra uncovered before scrambling to straighten out her shirt. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me what you were up to. I think I can put the pieces together.”

She hopes beyond hope that that isn’t true. “Well, whatever you’re assuming, don’t worry. I already put a stop to it.”

“Oh, honey, no,” she responds, much to Emma’s surprise. “I can tell that you’ve been a bit torn lately, but it’s clear that you’ve been happier.”

She takes a sip of water, unsure if she can handle a hope speech right now, and shrugs. “It’s not worth it,” she says. “Everyone I’ve ever been with… it’s just not worth it.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret says firmly as she walks over to her daughter and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Never say that. You’re right, it is a risk. But it’s one you need to take knowing that there are uncertainties. It’s scary, and there’s the chance that you can be hurt, but Emma, the pros so outweigh the cons. Trust me, some things are worth it. Love is worth it.”

“Woah,” Emma says, “no one said anything about love. I don’t have any feelings for—”

She laughs and places a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, I know a woman in love when I see one. And you said it in Neverland yourself! He is the father of your child. He’s your first love. There’s nothing wrong with still having those feelings, especially if things between you are… physical.”

She chokes on her water, placing it down and coughing, hitting her chest, hoping to not expose one of the many bites hidden under her hair. “Mary Margaret,” she stutters, “it’s not like that.”

“I realize this is awkward. We aren't exactly roommates anymore, so maybe girl-talk is off the table. But, Emma... if there’s one thing I would tell you, it’s to listen to your heart.”

She scoffs. Her heart has certainly led her astray in the past, and she’s unsure why she should trust it now. The first time she did, she ended up alone in prison and pregnant at 17. The last time she did, he died in her arms. Her heart has never had her best interests in mind, she thinks. Perhaps that’s why she started things with the pirate; because he could never be someone her heart would fall for. Perhaps that’s why she feels so betrayed now that she knows that isn’t working.

He’s made it impossible for her to ignore her feelings. To ignore the fact that she even has feelings. She wishes so desperately that she could put these to the back of her mind and ignore them as she has always done. She wishes she could ignore the way he knows her so intimately without trying. The way he can read her immediately and invariably. The way he knows exactly what she needs, and not just sexually. The way he cradles her when they’ve finished and the way he lets her go when she asks.

It’s too much, so she ignores it.

~~~~

She swore she wouldn’t wind up here.

She promised herself she would move on, and that her yellow bug would not find its way to the port on that or any night.

She vowed that her feelings, which she continues to stubbornly ignore, would not interfere with her plans.

But now here she is, watching him happily and fancifully stroke his stupid hook through her hair, tucking her flyaways back into her bun.

She hates herself for sitting here in her car, under the pretense of patrol, watching them flirt with each other and wishing it were her.

Tink laughs, Hook does too, and Emma nearly retches.

~~~~

“Emma!” She hears from the diner door days later, and when she turns she’s met with exactly what she was expecting: disappointment.

“Hi,” she mumbles once he sits across from her.

“Hey,” he says happily, giving her a smile she once trusted. The one that convinced her to do what she would never do now— now that she’s an adult with the experience and knowledge needed to make decisions. “How’s it going,” he asks causally.

“Fine,” she grumbles, noting her near-empty mug and the fact that he doesn’t notice her need for a refill.

“Cool.”

Things between them are far too awkward, and she wishes she weren’t in this diner. She wishes Henry hadn’t just left for school and that she had a bit of a buffer between herself and the threat before her.

She wishes she didn’t see him as a threat.

“Ems” he starts, leaning across the table at her. As he does so, she sees the Neal she knew twelve years ago and lets her guard down faster than she thought possible. “Go out with me,” he says in a tone that demands an affirmative response.

She clears her throat, hoping to remain strong and to consider what he put her through the last time they were involved with each other. “I don’t know,” she responds.

He smiles at her, that crooked smile she recognizes as the one her 17 year old self fell in love with, and takes a sip from his drink. “Come on,” he says. “You already stood me up once. I don’t have to ask you out again, but I am.”

She blushes at his mention of the last time they were here— when he waited for her to show up and she didn’t. “I’m sorry,” she says, without thinking about it and without truly meaning it.

“Hey, I get it. We went through a lot together, the whole Bonnie and Clyde act. But we’ve both grown up. And Henry thinks it’s a good idea.”

With a roll of her eyes she says, “of course he does. He’s eleven, why wouldn’t he want his parents to be together.”

“Why shouldn’t they be?”

“Neal,” she starts, but she isn't sure where she should go from here.

Before she can decide, he’s standing from the booth and she almost feels relief at the thought of him leaving. She’s almost able to take in another breath, let go of the one she’s been holding, but before she can, he’s sitting beside her and pushing her down to the end of the bench, encasing her in the booth and making it impossible for her to run. “Come on,” he says softly, leaning his face towards her.

The confusion she feels is overwhelming as he leans towards her, the warmth of his breath washing over her mouth and the scent of his cologne taking over her senses. She hasn’t been in this position in twelve years, and now that she’s back, she isn’t sure what to do. If he had found her here a year or two ago, she would have jumped at the opportunity to be with him again. But now, something has changed. Now, she realizes what life is like without him. Not only without him, but with someone else.

When his lips press to hers, the only thought she has is how chapped they are and how greasy his nose is as it glides against her own. The only coherent thought she has is how she almost raises her fingers to slide through his hair, but stops herself. She thinks about how wrong his goatee feels against her chin. She thinks about how unpleasurable it is when he bites her bottom lip lightly.

Breaking away from him, she wipes the back of her hand against her mouth to remove any evidence of him being there and pinches her brows together. “I don’t,” she says, but again, she’s unable to form a thought.

“So good it left you speechless?” he asks, and she scoffs.

“I have to go,” she says to him promptly, pushing on his shoulders and hoping that he backs off of the bench enough for her to exit.

“What do you mean?” he asks her forcefully.

“I mean I have to go. There’s something I have to…” She can’t continue, can’t finish her thought. She knows she can’t tell him what she’s about to do. Knows she can’t explain to him that, despite ending things between herself and Hook, she needs him more than she needs to breathe right now.

“Seriously?” His voice is vapid as she stands. “I’m Henry’s father. You can’t seriously be telling me that there’s someone out there who’s a better match for you.”

With another scoff and a shake to her head, she grabs her jacket and heads out the door.

~~~~

The ship is silent when she arrives, trying her hardest to sneak across the deck without the heels of her boots clicking too loudly against the aged wood. The problem is that her adrenaline is absolutely spiking and she’s finding it difficult to slow herself down. What she needs is the release that he’s guaranteed to bring her.

“Swan,” he says once he arrives on the main deck she’s trying to sneak across.

“Oh,” she exclaims in surprise. “Hi.”

“It’s the middle of the morning, love, is something wrong?”

“No,” she lies.

“Shouldn’t you be at the station?”

With a shrug and a few steps closer to him, she says, “something came up.”

He sighs. His nod and the purse of his lips tell her that he understands her meaning and why she’s here, so she proceeds towards him until her hands find his shoulders. “We can’t,” he says, much to her surprise.

She draws in her brows in confusion and leans towards him, saying, “of course we can.”

“No,” he says forcefully, pushing her back with gentle conviction. “We can’t. You said you wanted to end things.”

“Tomorrow,” she tries to reason. Then, “I want you now,” as she pushes forward again.

But he’s faster and stronger and he pulls away from her and grabs her wrist, keeping her from grabbing his lapel as she normally would do. “No.”

With an angry, childish scoff, she says, “come on, seriously?”

“Do you want me, or do you want a distraction?”

“A distraction from what?” she demands, practically shoving herself away from him.

“You tell me. I’m willing to bet something happened that’s making you come here. Something with Baelfire, perhaps?”

With an indignant laugh, she turns away from him. “Please. You think you know me so well?”

“Aye, I do. I think something happened that made you think and you couldn’t handle it. So you’ve come here to use me again.”

“Again!”

“You’re telling me, honestly, that you coming here every other night isn’t because of Baelfire, or because your mother pushes you to be with him, or because Henry wants his parents to be together? Are you honestly trying to tell me that you don’t come here as a distraction from all of this?”

“Hook,” she tries, but again, she has nothing to say.

“I have feelings for you, Emma. I want to be with you. With you.” His tone is so real and his eye contact with her so deep and intense that she has to look away.

“I could’ve sworn you wanted to be with Tink from the way you two were ogling each other the other night,” she says accidentally, slapping her palm against her mouth as she lets slip that she was here.

His laugh is self deprecating. It’s almost hateful as he shakes his head and turns away from her. “I want you, love, more than anything. But I don’t want to be your secret. I’m not willing to sit around and wait for you to come to your senses. If you don’t have feelings for me as I do you, then I think you should go.”

“Hook,” she tries again uselessly.

“Please,” he begs, refusing to look her way for the first time. “I’ve known enough heartbreak in my life. I’ve learned to prevent it where I can.”

With that, with his words hanging heavy between them and her eyes glassing over in response, she turns away and stalks towards the gangplank, careful not to let the tears fall and the sobs break loose until she’s locked away in her bug.

~~~~

#CSNLNY #neverland smut #season 3 au #canon divergence au #no curse au #captain swan #cs ff #ouat ff #cs smut #captain swan smut #yes I did steal that scene from bridgerton

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kat-tamin · 3 years

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you’re a cowboy like me

For Women of SVU Week 2021: Day Six: There was only one bed

Ship: Kat x Amanda

Warnings: Smut, including oral and fingering

Word Count: 2115

“Rollins, I just got word that our suspect got picked up in Westhampton's. We need to go pick him up.”

Amanda looked up at Kat. “When?”

“ASAP. ADA wants him arraigned tomorrow.” Kat gave the older detective a sympathetic look. “Sorry, Rollins. Hamptons PD says we can get him first thing tomorrow morning.”

“That means leaving tonight.” Amanda rubbed her forehead in frustration. “I’ll see if I can get someone to watch the girls.”

“Sorry, Rollins.” Kat smiled, trying to come up with something comforting. “On the bright side, mini vacay? I can make us a road trip mix.”

“Fine.” Amanda grabbed her keys, heading for the elevator. “Go pack a bag. I’ll meet you back here.” She paused, turned back to Kat. “None of that mumble rap crap, though. That’s not music.”

___

An almost 3 hour drive for two people who didn’t know each other that well was practically torture. The majority of the drive was spent in awkward silence. The only time they spoke was to discuss the landscape, or the case they were currently working on, Kat’s 90s music mix filling in the gaps of conversation.

This wasn’t like Kat, or Amanda. They were both quite talkative women, but there seemed to be an underlying awkwardness between them when they weren’t at work. Neither was quite sure why. They just didn’t seem to have a lot in common. Kat was young, while Amanda was a mom. That alone made their lives very different.

Chasing Waterfalls by TLC came up on the mix, and Amanda automatically turned the volume up.

“You like this?” Kat raised her voice to be heard over the music.

Amanda nodded, grinning. “Reminds me of when I was young.”

“Me too! I remember them playing it at my elementary school graduation!”

Amanda turned to her wide eyed. “Your what?”

“Yeah, it was fun- what?” Kat glanced at Amanda’s disgusted face.

“Kat, this played at my senior prom.”

Kat snorted, and quickly covered her open mouth with her hand. “Sorry, Rollins.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Amanda muttered. “Respect your elders, Tamin.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Kat’s tone of voice made Amanda’s breath catch in her throat. She had to quickly right the car so it wouldn’t swerve into the other lane.

Finally, the two SVU members made it to the motel that the department had booked for the night. It was just outside town, close to the station. Kat would have preferred to be closer to the ocean, but beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to a free hotel room.

Kat noticed Amanda was already walking into the office, and hurried after her, catching the door just before it closed.

“You must be the NYPD!” The cheerful, older woman working greeted them. “One bed, right?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Kat leaned on the check in desk, blinking in surprise.

“That’s what was booked.” The woman peered at her screen. “A queen sized room.”

“But there’s two of us,” Amanda reminded her, her voice tight.

“I’m sorry, Detective. I’m afraid I’m all booked up otherwise.” The worker scrunched up her nose. “I think I may have a cot lying around.”

Kat and Amanda glanced at each other, their eyes wide. A motel cot was just asking for a messed up back for a week.

“We can share.” Amanda turned back to the counter. “Right, Kat?”

“Right.” Kat suddenly felt very thirsty, her throat dry. “No big deal.”

After dumping their bags in their room, neither looking at the single bed, Amanda suggested they find a pub to eat at. “I could use a drink.”

Luckily, there was a bar down the street that served dinner. It was dark and dirty, but Kat didn’t mind. The smell of grease made her stomach growl, and her mouth water. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, forgoing lunch to finish up paperwork.

“Drink?” Amanda didn’t wait for Kat’s answer, flagging down the bartender.

“I’ll have a whiskey, neat.” Her eyes went to the blackboard menu. “And a burger with fries.”

The bartender nodded, then looked at Kat. “You?”

“Scotch and soda, please. I’ll have the burger too.”

He left to put in their order, and Kat’s eyes wandered over the tight space, with it’s neon signs and bright decor. “This reminds me of this lesbian bar in Brooklyn.”

“Ginger’s.”

Kat turned to Amanda, surprised. “You know it?”

Amanda just shrugged. “Of course.”

Their drinks were put down on the bartop, interrupting Kat’s follow up questions before they could start.

The combination of liquor and the exhaustion from the drive loosened their tongues. Over their greasy meals, Amanda and Kat found that they had more in common then they first thought.

Besides the obvious work connection, they bonded over the fact that they grew up pretty poor. This started a debate about whether it was worse to be in a New York winter without heat, or a summer in Georgia without air conditioning.

“You can’t say Winter is worse. You’ve never experienced summer in the south.” Kat noticed Amanda’s accent became more pronounced, whether it was from the talk of home or the alcohol. “You sleep naked, but still wake up hot and sticky.”

Kat’s thoughts betrayed her by imaging Amanda’s body sticky with sweat. She took a large swig of her drink, blood rushing to her cheeks.

___

The air was thick with tension as they changed into their pajamas, and slipped under the covers. Kat made sure to stick as close to the edge as possible, not wanting to make the other woman uncomfortable. She didn’t know many straight girls who were cool with sleeping in the same bed as her, unless they weren’t as straight as they said.

Was Amanda one of those girls? She knew about Ginger’s, after all. Maybe she’s just an ally, Kat thought. She had at least slept with two men, Kat knew for sure. There was no indication that Amanda was into women. Except the niggling feeling Kat got when Amanda stood a certain way, or the way she dressed sometimes. Her internal radar always seemed to ping when she looked at Amanda.

On the other side of the bed, Amanda turned onto her side. Then tossed onto her other side. Then on her back. She heard Kat shift. “Sorry,” Amanda whispered. “Can’t get comfy.”

“All good.” Kat turned to face Amanda. “Do you want me to ask for the cot?”

“Nah.” Amanda craned her neck to look at her. “Unless you want to.”

She felt Kat shake her head. “I’m used to sharing a bed.”

“With your girlfriend?” Amanda’s voice came out confrontational, making her wince.

Kat stiffened. “No, with my sister.”

“Oh.”

They laid in silence for a minute. A passing car illuminated their room for a flash.

“I haven’t had a girlfriend in a while,” Kat whispered.

“Yeah, the pandemic kinda killed the dating game,” Amanda replied, folding her hands over her stomach. “Men weren’t really beating down the door before then either.”

“But you’re so beautiful!” Kat blurted out.

Amanda just chuckled sadly. “A lot of the guys I meet don’t want an automatic family.”

Kat propped herself on her elbow. “Not even to hook up?”

Amanda wrinkled her nose. “I think I’m getting too old to play that game.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re fucking hot.” Woah, where’d that come from? Kat winced.

Amanda slowly turned towards Kat, their faces close now. “Yeah?”

“Yeah...”

In a split second, Amanda made a decision. She moved, and pressed her lips to Kat’s, who eagerly responded. Their movements became rushed, and soon Kat was pulling at Amanda’s tee. Amanda slipped it over her head, then helped Kat out of her own.

“Have you done this before?” Kat couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes.” Amanda’s mouth moved to Kat’s earlobe, her breath hot.

“At Ginger’s?”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.” Amanda bit down gently on her ear, making Kat moan. The sound flooded Amanda’s stomach with heat.

Amanda moved down Kat’s body, leaving open mouthed kisses. Her fingers ghosted over the front of Kat’s sports bra, making her nipples pebble. She leaned down, biting at one gently through the fabric.

“Oh, fuck!” Amanda hurriedly captured Kat’s groan in her mouth. Their tongues slipped over each other, wet and slick.

Amanda’s hand slipped under Kat’s hips, pulling down her pants and underwear in one tug.

“Let me see you,” Amanda said, leaning over to snap on the lamp.

Now in the light, Kat could get a good look at Amanda leaning over her, her bare chest right in front of Kat’s face. Her breasts were full and round with pink stretch marks, and tiny nipples.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Kat breathed.

Amanda’s face broke into a cocky grin. “Not so bad yourself.”

They met back in a hurried kiss, tongues swirling around each other.

Kat felt Amanda’s hand on her inner thigh, stroking the sensitive skin. Kat shivered at the sensation, her eyes closing.

“What do you want?” Amanda’s voice in her ear.

Kat’s legs opened wider, begging for her touch. “Anything. You.”

Amanda’s mouth took her previous path, this time making it all the way down to where she wanted her most, the scent making Amanda’s mouth water.

She slid a finger down Kat’s slit, making the other woman gasp. She couldn’t help but tease, liking the way Kat’s eyes screwed shut in frustration.

“Amanda, please...”

Amanda ducked her head down, her mouth taking her finger’s place. She teased Kat’s entrance with her tongue, savoring the wetness that gathered there.

“Please.”

Her tongue made contact with Kat’s clit, making her back arch. Kat’s thighs tightened around Amanda’s head more and more with every swipe.

“Fuck, just like that.”

Kat let out a gasp, Amanda’s mouth sucking hard on her clit. Heat built in Kat’s body, her muscles growing tight. The sheets were curled tight in her clenched fists.

“I’m close!”

Amanda could feel her, the wetness clinging to her lips, Kat’s hand moving to her hair, pulling gently as she pressed her cunt closer to Amanda’s face. Amanda suddenly pushed two fingers into her pussy, making Kat finally cum with a small scream of her name.

Amanda scissored her fingers, letting Kat ride out her orgasm, then moved up her body to give her a kiss, letting Kat taste herself on Amanda’s tongue.

Kat used the distraction to flip Amanda onto her back, straddling her hips. “My turn.”

Amanda shimmied out of her bottoms, finally leaving her bare. “Be my guest.”

Kat took her time, hands tracing Amanda’s breasts and collarbone. The light touch raised goosebumps on her body, her nipples hard. Kat circled one, then the other.

“Harder.” Amanda’s hand went to her own chest to demonstrate the strong pinch she liked.

“You like it rough, huh?” Kat decided to up the game, and bit down on Amanda’s nipple instead.

Amanda groaned. “Fuck yeah, like that.”

Kat took the nipple in her mouth, sucking and biting the flesh. Amanda moaned loudly, her hand drifting down to her clit.

In a flash, Kat grabbed her wrist. “Nuh uh.” Kat grabbed the other wrist, and pinned them above Amanda’s blonde head. “Do I need to grab the cuffs?” Kat licked a stripe along Amanda’s neck. “Or are you going to be good?”

“I’ll be good,” Amanda promised. “But you should probably get going.” She bucked her hips pointedly, urging Kat to her pussy.

“Keep your hands there,” Kat ordered. She let go of Amanda, testing her. To her credit, Amanda didn’t move. “Good girl.”

She moved down the bed so she could get into a better position in front of Amanda’s cunt. It was mostly bare, except for a small triangle of blonde hair. Her lips were wet with her slick.

Kat stroked her clit with her thumb, and in a quick move, thrust three fingers deep into her pussy, finding no resistance.

Amanda screamed, but didn’t move her hands to push Kat away. Kat pistoned in and out of her. “So good taking my fingers, baby.”

Kat’s words made Amanda tighten, her walls clenching down against Kat’s fingers. She moves her hand to massage Amanda’s front wall, the spot that Amanda could never reach on her own.

It wasn’t long before Amanda was shuddering and gasping. “Oh, God….”

Kat withdrew her hand, pressing them into Amanda’s mouth. Her tongue made good work of cleaning off the younger girl’s fingers.

They both laid on their backs, breathing hard. Kat reached over to turn the lamp off, plunging the room back into darkness.

Amanda curled on her side, and Kat slung an arm around her waist, burying her face in her neck.

All tangled up, their tiny bed didn’t seem as small anymore.

#wsvu week #kat tamin #amanda rollins #kat x amanda #tamlins #fanfic #svu #kat tamin fanfic #*

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ichika27 · 3 years

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Mairimashita! Iruma-kun s2 ep18

Was gonna post this days ago but I decided to do twewy-related stuff first lol.

Anyways, lots of pictures below again. At least 20, I think. Talks of ships below as well.

The last time we saw them, Iruma had jumped in front of the beast preparing to shoot a blast of magic in front of Ronove. Everyone else is worried but don’t know what to do cause if they tried to help, they’d get blasted, too. It seems though that Iruma himself has a plan.

Iruma plans to use Ali-san’s ability to swallow the huge amount of magic to eat the blast of it the beast is going to release saying he thought it was possible since Ali-san is the Ring of Gluttony. Arikured is surprised by this and complains at first but agrees he could do such a thing but Iruma's strength will be needed to succeed.

Remember that spell Iruma learned before about changing the appearance of something? Iruma uses that magic spell to turn Ali-san into this... cat thing. Giant cat thing idk so it could swallow the magic. Ali-san swallows the entire beast and let it explode inside him. Once it was over, the sky clears up, too. The plan totally worked and Ali-san is full!

Does this mean Iruma could use the power that got eaten from the beasts?

Trouble is over and Iruma gets together with his friends again. His friends were all worried about him though and Kalego-sensei came up to tell him he'd been reckless again. Iruma says he hasn't forgotten about what Kalego-sensei had said before at the home visit and that he had now finally understood what sensei meant. He was so used to danger due to almost always being in one himself that he never realized how bad such situations were until everyone else he cared about got affected. He adds that he gave it everything he's got even though he wasn't sure he'd even win because he wants to protect everyone and holding onto that ideal is part of his "desire".

I’m happy this arc helped some of them grow and show the growth of those who already have. Pretty cool.

Random screenshot but I just wanna direct your attention to fluffy Kalego-sensei who is being adorable right now. I cannot take him seriously when he’s like this and even when he’s angry, this form makes it look adorable.

Back to the story.

While all the mess is happening on the surface, Kiriwo-senpai has finally been found by the Six Fingers who are there to help him escape under the orders of Baal. The other escaping inmates are also in the area but still behind bars and Kiriwo-senpai tells them that he never planned to help them escape alongside him and never said he'd do such thing in the first place.

I kinda feel bad for them but they are also bad people so, eh.

Upon donning the same coat the Six Fingers' wear, one of the prisoners had the realization that unlike all of them there who are merely "bad", Kiriwo is actually "evil".

One of the Six Fingers asked why they couldn't just let the prisoners escape, too as it'll help in causing chaos and Kiriwo-senpai answers that seeing the despair the prisoners are gonna be in when they realize they'd never be let out despite going this far will be fun to see. Plus, they're not strong enough and will be caught again anyways.

I missed seeing Kiriwo-senpai’s evil hairstyle. It’s been a while. I guess this answers the question I had back in season 1: Kiriwo-senpai chose to be evil. Sad but I should’ve seen it coming.

Back on the surface, a parade starts and on the float are the heroes who saved Walter Park. While Iruma is properly mentioned, the owner, Rossevelt also shows off his son (Ronove does call him Legend-daddy as in the English word lol). The owner thanks Iruma for saving the park and calls him a hero.

They look alike except for the mustache and hair length. Anime genetics never fail. Does Legend-daddy also sing his own bgm?

Unbeknownst to our heroes, Kiriwo-senpai is around the corner watching the parade. He's surprised to find out that not only was Iruma also at Walter Park at this time but Iruma is also the one to defeat the beast. Instead of being angry at another evil plan foiled, Kiriwo-senpai says that this must be destiny and was happy to see Iruma. He was gonna walk out into the crowd but snaps out of this happy state by a call from Baal.

Senpai really blurs the line between love and hate cause he acts similarly when it comes to Iruma. Congrats to the fans of this ship for getting this scene and also, I still don’t know the ship name for them. How do I tag this?

Back to the phone call, Baal isn't happy that the park still stands. Walter Park is created to vent out demons' evil cycle after all and he has no need for that in his goals as he prefers that the demons go way beyond the evil cycle and just become ultimately evil. Unfortunately for him, the authorities are coming and they can't really do much else so he tells Kiriwo-senpai and the rest to escape already.

After being told to escape, Kiriwo-senpai says that this isn’t the end and declares that he and Iruma will meet again as they are destined enemies.

I guess in Iruma’s harem, he’s the “enemies to lovers” love interest lol.

Iruma looks at the direction where Kiriwo-senpai was but of course, he doesn’t see anything and he’s none the wiser.

Opera gives Iruma back his backpack at the float. As Iruma looks inside for his stuff, he finds the note his grandfather gave him of things he must do on his trip with the final one on the list being "Have fun with everyone!". Iruma looks at his smiling friends and thinks that even though a lot of scary things happened today, he still did have fun with them. Aww so cute!

Iruma gets reunited with his worried grandpa who goes to the hotel to check on him. Iruma says he couldn't go home early as Ronove's dad let them stay at the hotel as thanks for saving the park. Ronove’s dad adds that they are also Sullivan's students so he's happy to give them such things. Iruma tells his grandpa that he's happy and okay and that the teachers and Opera protected them. Grandpa Sullivan decided that the three adults would be given the job of protecting Iruma from now on (and Kalego-sensei felt a chill down his spine elsewhere in the hotel lol).

These two adults are the same. They probably won’t stop talking about their kids if you’re around them. Reminds me of FMA’s Maes Hughes (thought still makes me sad).

While the teachers are discussing information about the attacks, Kalego-sensei goes to his room to find his team on the bed making fun of the stuff he said earlier much to his annoyance. The boys said wanted to stay in the teachers' room as it's better than the room they got but Kalego-sensei quickly kicks them out.

The girls also get rewards and are allowed to get any clothes they wanted which made them happy. Ronove’s dad is pretty generous, huh? Like, I know these guys deserve it for all their hard work but the guy looks so happy that he’d probably still be nice to them even without all the trouble happening.

They are all also given an all-you-can-eat buffet. Iruma eats a ton of food obviously. Clara is having fun at the chocolate fountain thing and Ronove is trying to make Agares eat. Those two got close, huh? lol I wonder if Ronove’s doing this to try and make Agares unattractive or something. It’ll be cool if they became friends though with their very contrasting personalities and all.

While everyone is having fun inside, Iruma leaves without anyone else realizing except for Ameri who decides to follow. They end up at the rooftop by themselves with Ameri trying to calm herself down as she's thinking of romantic stuff as it’s just the two of them. Iruma then reminds Ameri of the question she asked him before about his goal and tells her he finally found one: he wants have fun with everyone. He's willing to change in order to be able to protect that ideal of his. Ameri is happy to see Iruma has grown.

Ameri decided that she also wants to give it her all for her own desires and ambitions. She then tries to tell Iruma something but sadly she gets cockblocked by Clara and Azz both appearing. Ameri gives up for now and tells Iruma to just go with his friends.

Before leaving, Iruma asks Ameri a question - the same thing she was going to ask him earlier! He asks if they could hang out sometimes but just the two of them and she passes out from this lol.

Congratulations to Iruma x Ameri fans for getting a scene like this, too. I also don’t know the ship name for them. Anyways, why is it just the senpais getting a moment with Iruma? Ameri has been getting a lot of moments, too and it’s making me wonder if she’s endgame.

lol also, Ameri is worried about the other female rivals not realizing there’s another threat somewhere else.

While all that teen drama is happening, both Romiere's dad and Iruma's grandpa are being interviewed on tv. The two men then tell everyone how their kids and those kids' friends are the heroes of Walter Park. Since Iruma's name had been specifically mentioned (with everyone knowing the heroes are "Iruma and friends"), there ends up being reporters outside the hotel wanting to see Iruma the next day. Iruma, of course, doesn't like this popularity. With the thought that there may also be reporters waiting at his home, Clara offers to let Iruma stay at her house.

Oooh... will we finally get Iruma x Clara and Iruma x Azz moments as well? Hehehe

There's something new in the ED video by the way! This used to be for Kuromu but now it’s for these boys! Cute!

---

I’m guessing this is the end of this arc? I wonder what the last one will be since we only have like, what, 6 episodes more? What kind of arc will it be, I wonder cause this one had battles.

Okay, the end where the heroes are mentioned to be “Iruma and friends”, I’m happy and surprised that none of the others were bothered by this at all. No one complained about why Iruma is the only one specifically named. It didn’t cause a fight between the entire group unlike what would’ve happened if this was any other story. I get why Iruma got proper credit as he is the one to end the incident and saved everyone around from being fried but his friends did a lot of work, too and it’d have been better if they were all credited properly in the news. None of them were mad though and are happy that they won because they did their best.

Ronove calling his dad “Legend-daddy” will never not be cute and funny to me. His dad, despite being rich enough to own this entire park, isn’t an annoying, arrogant asshole and I like that. I’m happy that most characters in this show subvert my expectations and they make me like them more.

I’m sorry if I don’t tag ships in my mairuma posts but I don’t know any of the series’ ship names lol. Speaking of ships, as I mentioned before, Ameri’s been getting a lot of moments with Iruma or focus on her growing feelings for Iruma. Kiriwo-senpai only showed up a bit in this arc and got a bit for himself, too. Kuromu and Clara only had a bit when Iruma went evil cycle and I wonder if they’d get more, too. I personally ship him with Azz so I wish they’d gets some moments as well. Eiko gets hers mostly on the “Interval” segments.

So... is it possible to have a mairuma dating sim or not? Look at how many routes are available! XD

Anyways, focus next time is on Clara’s family probably with Iruma spending time there. I expect another Valac Family musical! XD

Thanks for reading!

#Mairimashita! Iruma-kun #welcome to demon school iruma-kun #sana_post

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onechicago-upsteadrhekker · 4 years

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I’m alive!! And I’m here with another prompt fic that @randers198 requested. If you have requested a fic, I promise they are in progress!! I’m not writing them in any particular order. Just when inspiration strikes and I get an idea so that’s why it may seem like it’s taking so long. Also, I’ve been bombarded with school for the past couple of months so I haven’t really been writing much. Also, my one-shots (all my fics really) get a little long *insert facepalm* but I do hope it’s worth it!

I’m hoping to get back into the swing of posting more regularly! Things seem to be slowing down for the moment so I’m gonna try to take advantage of that and write a bunch!

Also, with season 8 coming soon (insert excited screaming), I am hoping back into the deep-dive, hard-core, fangirling, shipping train that is upstead! I can’t freaking wait!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyways, enough of my rambling! Here’s #62 “What the hell is your problem!?”

*title comes from sleeping at last’s song ‘two’ (you may have picked up that I have a slight obsession with sleeping at last)

sweetheart, you look a little tired

Jay almost always woke up before her. She had never known him to sleep soundly past six and on weekdays he was usually up at five or even earlier sometimes.

It was a habit that had been ingrained into him during his time in the military and one she didn’t think he’d ever really outgrow.

Sometimes, he would get up when he woke and start his day by running or working out (he had tried to get her up too but it failed more often than it succeeded--she was more of a six-thirty am runner). He would get a shower, be dressed and have a coffee pot full of coffee waiting for her all by the time she forced herself to roll out of bed and come downstairs.

But more and more often, Jay had been staying in bed after he woke, preferring to hold her till she woke up. Hailey was fine with this arrangement, liking the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her and knowing that when she turned over, she would be met with bright green eyes and a smattering of red freckles.

So this morning when she woke, feeling cold and empty and alone she felt a little disoriented because she hadn’t woken without him at least somewhere in their bedroom in quite sometime.

She knew even before she opened her eyes he wasn’t there but she moved her legs and threw an arm in the direction of his side anyway, hoping to feel his warm body next to hers.

Hailey sat up, looking to her left with a frown at the tangled sheets but no Jay. She scooted over and found that his side was cold which meant he had been gone for a while but his phone was still on the nightstand and his clothes from the previous day were still thrown over the chair in their room.

He wouldn’t have gone anywhere without his phone and he was notorious for leaving his clothes strewn about on the floor unless she told him otherwise so she didn’t think he had gone somewhere and come back.

She hopped out of the bed, calling his name softly as she poked her head in their closet and ventured into their bathroom just in case he was taking a shower or something but he wasn’t there. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand and saw it was actually later than she thought. She must have forgotten to set her alarm last night--they had gotten in pretty late from a raid.

Brushing through her hair with her fingers, she pulled it up into a ponytail with the hair tie on her wrist as she walked downstairs upon not finding Jay in any of the rooms upstairs, “Babe? You down here?”

Hailey peeked into the living room and saw that there were blankets on the couch but still no Jay. She bit her lip, starting to get a little concerned when she walked into the kitchen to find him sitting at the island. His elbow was resting on the counter, propping his head up on his hand and he was looking off into space, bleary eyed.

“Jay, honey,” Hailey spoke softly, padding further into the room, being careful not to accidentally scare him.

It took a few seconds but eventually he blinked, focusing on her figure standing in front of him.

She put a hesitant hand on his chest, “Jay? Are you okay?”

He recovered quickly from whatever stupor she found him in, shrugging off her hand and stretching nonchalantly before pecking her cheek. She watched him grab his coffee cup off the counter as he slid off his chair, forcing her to step back. He moved to the sink and poured the still half-full cup of coffee down the drain, stetting the mug down.

He nodded to the coffee pot, “I made coffee.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Hailey prompted, crossing her arms. He turned around and she ran a meticulous eye over his appearance, biting her lip in concern.

He was wearing sweat pants and a form-fitting t-shirt which wasn’t all that unusual except he preferred to sleep in boxers and even then, he never slept with a shirt on but the couch looked slept on. His hair was sticking up slightly and he looked tired, his eyes faintly red.

Jay tilted his head in confusion, yawning, “What question?”

She raised an eyebrow, “I asked if you were okay. And I was calling your name earlier. Did you not hear me?”

“Oh,” He scratched the back of his neck, “I uh--Just a little out of it this morning I guess, with the raid and all. I’m just tired.”

Hailey furrowed her eyebrows; she wasn’t quite sure she believed that, “Was it just the raid?”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead, “Okay, maybe I had a nightmare earlier this morning.”

She huffed in exasperation, giving him a look, “How many times have we talked about this? Wake me up. I’m right here.”

He smiled and he looked back to his normal self if not a little tired, “I know, I know but since we got in late last night I wanted you to get as much rest as possible. I was fine, I promise. Nothing I couldn’t handle on my own.”

He checked his watch, “We need to get ready or we’ll be late for work.”

She was still standing in her spot in the kitchen with her arms crossed when he came over to give her another peck on the cheek before retreating upstairs.

Slowly turning towards the direction Jay went, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion and concern. She was pretty good at spotting when he’d had a nightmare. She usually woke up when he was having it but she hadn’t this morning and when she’d found him in the kitchen with that spaced out look on his face, he had acted odd. Different.

She wasn’t sure what it was but there was definitely something going on and she was going to figure it out.

The morning passed relatively smoothly and she kept an eye on him but she couldn’t detect anything really wrong. He seemed a little quiet and maybe a little more subdued when discussing things with the unit but that wasn’t anything to be worried over. He just seemed tired but then he’d sort of snapped at Adam and retreated down the stairs to grab some paperwork they needed.

It had clearly taken Adam aback and he turned in her direction but she responded with a shake of her head, telling him without words to let it go because she wasn’t sure what was going on and she wasn’t sure if she should push it just yet. Not unless whatever this was got in the way of the job.

Adam seemed to get her message and didn’t say anything about it. The day continued and she could tell he was trying to cover whatever it was that put him in this mood and he did an admirable job but she knew him. She could see through his act.

It wasn’t till Voight sent them to a scene did she feel the need to intervene and force Jay to tell her what was wrong.

Hailey eyed him carefully, watching as he jumped out of the truck. He hadn’t said anything the whole ride and while that wasn’t entirely unusual, there was still this broodiness she couldn’t quite put a finger on.

They approached the scene, a patrol officer guarding the crime tape that had already been set up. Hailey glanced at Jay and when it was clear he didn’t intend to say anything she addressed the cop as Jay started to duck under the tape.

“We’re Intelligence.” The cop nodded and Hailey followed Jay in ducking under the tape, jogging to catch up to where he was starting to crouch down beside the body.

She stood beside him watching as he pulled the tarp covering the victim back to examine the bullet hole right over his heart. There were no signs of a struggle and it looked like the bullet had hit him point-blank in close range.

Hailey glanced at Jay who was still squatting, looking at the body but he seemed a little out of it. She furrowed her brows, “Jay? What do you think?”

He glanced at her then, shrugging his shoulders and standing up, “Don’t know yet.”

Jay turned and walked to a couple of patrol officers who were standing off to the side. Hailey frowned at his short answer, taking a couple of hurried strides to catch up to him again.

“You were first on the scene?” Jay’s tone was short and to the point and he almost sounded irritated. He was never one for much small talk when working a scene but he never sounded like he didn’t want to be there which was the vibe Hailey was starting to get.

She didn’t say anything though, instead she watched him carefully out of the corner of her eye, on high alert for whatever was bugging him.

“Yes sir,” The patrol officers turned to them, their postures straightening and their eyes widening. They also looked a little pale and fidgety which meant that they were probably, most definitely rookies and Jay was in a mood. Just great.

Jay pulled out a pocket-sized notebook to jot down information, glancing up at the two rookies that stood nervously in front of them, “Any witnesses?”

The two officers glanced at each other before the taller one piped up, “Yes sir, there was a lady on the scene when we arrived.”

Hailey frowned, glancing quickly around, looking for said lady and she saw Jay do the same. He turned back to the officers, a hard look on his face, “And where is this lady? We need to speak with her.”

“Um,” The shorter one swallowed, “After we initially spoke with her she said she needed to go pick her kids up from school so we got her information and we uh,” Both officers visibly gulped at the growing anger coming off of Jay and Hailey herself was a little taken aback at how aggravated he looked, “We got her information and let her go.”

“I’m sorry, you let her go?” Jay’s jaw clenched, “You don’t have the authority to let witnesses go. This is a murder case and you might have just let the killer walk free. She might be headed to Canada for all we know! Of all the idiot things two patrol officers could do this is about biggest.”

Hailey’s eyes were wide; Jay didn’t get riled up very often and when he did, it was most likely because someone deserved it. The officers had made Intelligence job harder and Jay was right, they should have kept the witnesses till she and Jay showed up but the rookies didn’t deserve this kind of treatment.

Jay was practically oozing irritation and he was rubbing the back of his neck like it was stiff. Hailey grabbed his elbow to drag him off to the side. This had gone too far; whatever it was that was putting him into this mood needed to stop.

“Jay,” She hissed, flinging a quick glance back towards the patrol officers who still looked a little shell-shocked, “That was uncalled for. Yeah, they made a mistake but you didn’t have to yell at them like that. They’re still inexperienced and they aren’t going to learn anything if you keep telling them all the things they did wrong. You know better than that, Jay. You know what’s like to be in their shoes.”

Hailey let out a huff, rubbing her forehead in thought watching as Jay didn’t say anything. He just had this funny expression on his face, “What the hell is your problem!? I mean, it’s not just this. You have been acting strangely all day, first this morning and then you’ve been in this funk, snapping at everybody. And now this? This isn’t like you and this isn’t from a nightmare.”

Jay didn’t say anything, just standing in front of her and Hailey got a good look at him. She cataloged everything from the way he was standing to his facial expression, trying to figure out what it was he wasn’t telling her about and then it finally clicked.

There was finally a little crack in the mask he’d been wearing all day and she could see how utterly miserable he looked, his forehead scrunching together like he had a headache and it hit her like a ton of bricks.

“Jay, are you sick?” Her face held a mixture exasperation and concern, “You don’t feel well, do you?”

Her hand immediately went to his forehead, “Honey, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you say anything!?”

How did she not notice this? She’d been watching him carefully all morning but it had never occurred to her that he might not feel well and now that she thought about it, he had felt a little warm when she’d brushed up against him in the bullpen earlier today and just now when she’d grabbed his elbow.

Jay shrugged, but even that looked painful to him now that he wasn’t trying to hide his illness from her, “It wasn’t that bad at first.”

Hailey’s eyebrows furrowed, her hand moving to rest on his neck, “At first? Meaning it’s worse now?”

He grimaced at his slip-up but didn’t try to refute her. She sighed, removing her hand from his neck and Jay missed the coolness and comfort of her hand immediately.

She reached into her back pocket, pulling out her phone, scrolling through her contacts then raising it to her ear. Jay frowned, “What are you doing?”

Hailey gave him a look that brokered no argument, “I’m calling Voight to tell him we’re going home.”

“What!? No,” He protested weakly, “I’m fine.”

She gave him another look, angling the phone slightly away from her mouth, “We’re going home and that’s final. You have a fever.”

Voight must have picked up because Hailey quickly moved the phone back to it’s proper position, “Hi Sarge. Yeah, we’re at the scene but you’re going to have to send Adam and Kim because Jay’s sick. I’m pretty sure he’s got a fever.”

There was a pause and he watched Hailey nod, “Yeah, apparently since this morning.” Another pause, “I was planning on it if it’s not too much of a problem.”

Hailey chuckled at something their boss said before saying goodbye and hanging up, sliding her phone back into her back jean pocket. She turned back towards Jay, holding her hand out, “Give me the keys. I’m driving.”

She could tell he wanted to fight her but he must have thought better of it because he nodded his head and reached into his pocket for the truck keys. Once he handed them off, she was making her way to where Jay had pulled the truck up to the scene, Jay trailing behind her looking like a miserable little boy who didn’t feel well and had gotten in trouble on top of it.

Hailey smiled to herself as she got into the driver’s side. He was her little boy and it was her job to take care of him even when he was stubborn and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once he climbed in, Hailey started the truck and headed towards their house. It was quiet and Hailey kept sneaking glances at her husband and she couldn’t believe he had hid how badly he was feeling because he actually looked pretty terrible.

Now that his guard was down, she could see how tired he really was and there were two red spots that had shown up on his cheekbones. He looked feverish and miserable as he laid his head against the window, his eyes closed. And he looked a little pale too.

Hailey pulled into the driveway, taking the key out of the ignition and unbuckling her seat belt. She opened her door, looking over at Jay who had fallen asleep. He must have really been sick to fall asleep in the middle of the day in a car.

She reached over, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder so she didn’t scare him, “Jay, honey,” She spoke softly, “We’re home.”

He shifted, his eyes opening blearily. She rubbed his arm, “Let’s get you inside. You’ll be a lot more comfortable.”

Once he was mostly awake and sitting up, she hopped out, shutting her door to come around to his side. He opened his own door and he was moving slowly like he was in pain and Hailey was starting to worry that this was more than a simple fever.

She followed his slow steps up to their front door and she quickly nudged her way in front of him so she could unlock the door for him. Once the door was open, she followed Jay to their living room and watched as he gingerly sat on the couch, his hand going to rest over his eyes.

She sat beside him, her hand going back to his forehead and she could have sworn it felt hotter than it did a few minutes ago.

Hailey frowned again, “Jay, tell me what hurts. I think you have a pretty high fever. What are your symptoms? And be honest with me.”

Jay removed his hand, letting his head loll in her direction. He cast her a bleary, sad gaze and Hailey felt her heart break at how pitiful he looked as she carded her fingers through his short hair.

“My head hurts,” He admitted. When he didn’t say anything else, she prompted, “And?”

He threw another glance in her direction and she knew how much he hated admitting that he wasn’t feeling well.

“And my body aches.”

Hailey bit her lip, “I think you have the flu, Jay.” She did another feel of his forehead and he leaned further into her, “I’ve heard it’s pretty bad this year.”

Jay gave a low groan, breathing out, “I can believe it.”

Even though she felt bad for him, Hailey couldn’t help the small smirk that came across her face, “Well, if someone would’ve gotten their flu shot this year, they wouldn’t sick.”

He looked up at her from where he was resting his head on her chest with puppy dog eyes and an adorable pout, “Don’t make fun. I don’t feel good.”

She gave him an exaggerated sympathetic look, brushing his hair back lovingly, “Oh my poor baby.”

Hailey bent down to give him a swift kiss on the top of his head before removing herself out from under him. She helped him lay down on the couch, pushing a pillow under his head and taking off his shoes, “I’m going to go take stock of all the medicine we have in the bathroom and then call Will to see what I should give you.”

“Hailey,” Jay whined, his eyes following her as she walked around the couch and into the kitchen, disappearing out of his sight.

“You’re taking meds. No if, ands or buts about it,” She called back to him as Jay grumbled loud enough to be heard.

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

All day, Hailey answered every beck and call he had made, always with loving touch and soft kiss on his forehead.

After getting flu information from Will, they’d determined the correct medication for him to take and she’d run out to the closest pharmacy. She came back with his favorite type of juice from when he was little and a golf documentary she’d just happened to see.

After some initial grumbling on Jay’s part, he finally decided to drop his ‘tough guy’ act and give into the care Hailey was trying to provide him with for which she was grateful for. Mostly because she wasn’t having to force feed him his medicine anymore.

It was still a pain to get him to take the medicine she was giving him but at least he wasn’t outright trying to refuse her. The complaining was still in full effect though especially because the medicine Will had told her to get wasn’t in pill form.

But then she reminded him that she could always to take him to get shots instead and he usually stopped being grouchy and grudgingly swallowed the liquid Hailey was holding out in a tiny measuring cup.

She would refill his cup with juice or water, bringing it to him on the couch as she tided up the house, taking advantage of the unexpected time off to tackle chores. Always asking him if he needed anything and occasionally sitting with him for a half-hour or so to give him the comfort she could see he wanted.

And right now she was in the kitchen, making his favorite soup. He would never admit it but Jay secretly relished this time.

He didn’t much care for being sick but he loved it when Hailey played nurse. She reminded him of his own mom when he got sick as a child but more than that it proved how great of a mom Hailey would be some day.

He didn’t get to see this side of his wife very often. Playing the role of domestic housewife, picking up and taking care of him and while he wouldn’t ever want her to give up the things that made her a freakin’ bad-ass detective, he enjoyed seeing this softer side of her.

Hailey, the wife. Not Hailey, the cop. Watching the things only he saw.

She didn’t dote often but when she did, he would take it. Even if that meant feeling like crap.

“Hey honey,” Hailey came into the room with a bowl of soup in her hand and his medicine in the other, “You feel up to eating something?”

He sat up, trying not to wince from his sore muscles, “Yeah.”

“You don’t have to eat all of it. I just want something in your stomach other than juice and medicine,” She deposited the half-full bowl of soup into his hands before pouring the proper dosage of medicine in the small measuring cup for him, “And speaking of, it’s time for another dose of your medicine.”

Jay took a bite of soup, watching Hailey warily as she held out the cup full of purple liquid and grimaced at her stern look. He sighed and put down the soup.

He had learned quickly that it didn’t go well if he tried to refuse so he decided he’d better just get it over with and take the stuff. He was still looking at Hailey with a sulky look as he obediently drank the disgusting medicine before making a ‘yuck’ face.

She took the cup from him and handed him his juice to wash it down with, giving him a satisfied smile.

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He knew she was teasing him and he gave her a grumpy face. She chuckled, kissing him on the forehead, “You enjoy your soup. I’m going to go wash the dishes.” Hailey gave him a mothering look, “Call if you need something.”

Shaking her head, Hailey walked back into the kitchen to clean up. She put the medicine on the end of one of her counters before going over to dish out the rest of the soup into storage containers to put into the fridge.

She was glad that they were heading into the weekend, giving her more flexibility to look after Jay. Unless there was a major case that came up then she would be able to finish up the paperwork from the past week at home.

Hailey planned to keep Jay on the couch, resting and taking his medication the entire weekend so that hopefully by Monday he would be well enough to go into work. If that meant babying him for a couple days then so be it because he was a nightmare when everyone was at work but him.

He was constantly calling all of them to ask for updates on whatever case they were working on because he was bored.

And while Hailey had never really known him to get sick like this, she knew what he was like when he got injured so she figured it would be similar.

In the whole time Hailey had known Jay, he had maybe gotten a couple of colds and never during their married life so this was a somewhat different experience for her. She was more used to gauze and PT exercises. Not soup and liquid medicine.

But fortunately, or unfortunately, she was a pro at getting Jay to take medicine because he gave her a hard time even with pills which made no sense to her but he always tried to convince her he didn’t like how narcotics made him feel and any antibiotics he was prescribed was making his immune system weak.

He was just stubborn. But she could be stubborn too.

She supposed she would be thankful for the experience when they had kids of their own who inherited their father’s stubbornness.

Lord help her when that happened.

Hailey rinsed a dish, thinking of Jay in the other room and the events of the day.

He had gone from moody and trying to cover up his sickness to a needy little boy who wouldn’t take his medicine, moping around her.

Jay always tried to put up a tough guy act and it usually worked but not with her. Once he had been convinced to give it up, he was the most high-maintenance man she knew. She knew how clingy he could get when he was injured and it seemed to be even more so when he was sick because he had been calling her into the living room to ask for company all throughout the day.

She almost laughed out loud at how domesticated they had been today. She almost felt like she was playing house but it was real. She really had a husband who needed her from time to time, picking up after him and making him a homemade dinner. Something they didn’t usually have time for.

And while she wouldn’t trade her high-action life for anything, she secretly loved when these slow days came. Which usually meant Jay was injured but in this case he was sick and she couldn’t deny the satisfaction she got from taking care of him. Of doing the mundane things that came with a house and a husband.

Not that she’d ever admit it but standing there doing the dishes, listening to the Black hawks game Jay had turned on, knowing that he was in there, laying on their couch, well-taken care of made her heart swell in a way she didn’t ever think she’d ever get to experience.

The feeling of a safe, happy home and a bright future full of love.

Even if that meant taking care of a grumpy Jay from time to time.

Was that ending to cheesy for you... I’m so terrible at endings but hopefully it wrapped the story up in some sort of profound, cohesive way. This started out as a small little sick fic but turned into a mammoth of a thing and honestly I wasn’t really sure what I was writing... I just knew I wanted Hailey to pick up on Jay’s not feeling well at work hence the prompt. Hopefully you enjoyed it and I’m trying my best to get through all these prompts but seeing as how I’m incapable of writing things under a thousand words, it takes a little while. I’m also trying my best to work on Dancing in the Minefields if any of you are following that...I know you guys deserve the next chapter but I’ve sort of lost steam on it and I’m trying to find the grove again. But in other news I have a couple of big fics coming your way and they are in progress but I’ve decided I’m not going to post them until it’s totally completed so I don’t leave you hanging!!

Anyway, let me know how you liked this prompt fic and I’ll see you next time!

#Chicago PD #jay halstead #hailey upton #jay halstead x hailey upton #upstead #married!upstead #fluff #stubborn but clingy #Hailey is such a good wifey #couple goals #prompt fic #prompt

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

Small Time Witch (32)

S I X M O N T H S L A T E R

Vanaheim had been kind to you but it was time to make your next move. Loki had been pardoned on Asgard. The convergence was nigh and preparations for Malekith had begun. Asgard was fortified as a precaution. You thought maybe Malekith wouldn’t bother since the entire universe knew you had the stones. The small council was not so sure. They wanted you locked away in a secure location where he couldn’t find you. You wanted to fight. That’s all you seemed to want these days.

Malekith and Frigga have long been enemies. His brute murdered her when the dark elves invaded Asgard. You would only hide if she hid with you. Being ever stubborn she declined. You didn’t tell her what would happen but, because of your insistence, she could guess. “If it’s my time, it’s my time. I won’t hide.” Everyone in this family was ridiculously stubborn. You fit right in.

Loki fought you ad nauseam about expelling the stones. You refused to even entertain the thought until the convergence was over. He thought the stones were overtaking you. They changed your personality. You argued they just made you stronger and perhaps he was threatened by you. That never failed to spur him into a tirade about how dangerous they were and how no one knew what they were doing to you. The voice in your head told you otherwise. He would prattle on about how they seemed to speak for you. How you had changed. You never listened.

“Mortal are you listening?” It drove you insane when he called you mortal. Just a constant reminder that you were beneath him.

“I am. And I’ve asked you to please stop calling me mortal.”

“Well aren’t you? Are you now unable to die? Have I missed something?”

“As long as I have them I am.”

“And that’s why you shouldn’t have them. Where is my wife? You were not this war mongering battle hardened warrior when I first met you.”

“You prefer me weak? Too afraid of my own shadow?”

He knelt in front of you to look in your eyes. “I have never known you to be weak, Y/N. You were powerful enough.”

You laughed but the smile on your lips never met your eyes. “Just enough that I couldn’t ever take you.”

“Stop it. That’s never mattered to me.”

“Until I became stronger than you.”

He picked up a pillow off of the bed and smashed it into his face. He let out a deep growl out of sheer frustration. “Your new found obsession with power is exactly why I am worried. They need you. They are like parasites and you are their host. You feed them, darling. Of course they don’t want to give you up.”

“And what if I do release them? What then? Do we just wait for the next maniac to use them against us?”

“Then we keep them locked in the vault.”

“Oh yeah, because Odin’s vault has never been breached.”

“Only by me.” He hated fighting with you. Absolutely loathed it. You kept putting off the release of the stones but he wouldn’t give up. You were scared they would fall into the wrong hands. He was afraid they already had. The only other person who was in your corner was Odin.

Loki knew his father all too well. He was not interested in what you wanted but what your power could do for him. He treated you like his own sentient weapon. Your daddy issues completely clouded your judgement in regards to Odin. He doted on you. Called you his daughter. You lapped it up. When Loki or Thor would say something he would laugh it off and say they were jealous that he had a new favorite child. After Asgard was safe, they thought it was time for you to go back to Midgard for a while for an extended holiday. Maybe your family could talk some sense into you.

“My love. My little queen. Please don’t be cross with me. I am simply worried for your safety and sanity. Don’t you want to leave all of this behind? Perhaps we can start our family. I’ve longed to see you with child.”

Your voice was quiet, “That’s not my dream. It’s yours. You know how I feel about having children. Can’t we just go on forever having adventures?”

“Pet, I have had my fun. I just want to start a family and be settled. I don’t care if I ever ride into another battle. Children or not, I just want this constant upheaval to end. I quite liked our life on Midgard. I actually miss television. Why don’t we go back and rebuild our little cottage? Will you at least think about it?”

You kissed the tip of his nose, “I will. When this is all over, I will agree to take extended leave and visit my family.”

—————————————————————

The day Malekith invaded was like deja vu for Loki except he was not in the dungeon. The dark elves were unable to breech the outer reaches of Asgard so they moved on to Greenwich where he and Thor would meet. Against your better judgement (and certainly Loki’s), you jumped the portal to help Thor. You served as nothing but a distraction. Thor was nearly crushed by Malekith’s ship. Had it not been for Dr. Selvig, Thor would have been killed.

Your magic destroyed half of a library and a lot more property. When law enforcement arrived they thanked Thor for his help. You, on the other hand, were put in shackles and taken into custody. Thor tried to stop them but they were under strict orders from the World Security Council to take you in.

You tried to break free for your bonds but your magic wouldn’t work. “Stop resisting, Princess.” one of the Interpol officers shouted. They didn’t have regular guns pointed at you. They looked like ray guns or something you’d see in a sci fi movie. Thor rushed behind you asking where you were being taken. They muttered something about an Air Force base as officers held him back.

“I’m coming, little sister! Just hang on.”

They had you locked in the back of a van that was caged and padded. A thick metal partition separated you from the driver. The doors on the back were also thick metal. Three officers wearing helmets rushed in in a practiced military style drill. Keeping their weapons trained on you, one officer stood in front of you and pressed a button that magnetized your restraints. He stuck your hands to a small but sturdy loop on the bench you sat on. Another officer put a mutant inhibitor collar around your neck while the third jabbed a needle in your arm. “Nighty night, Princess.”

When you awoke your head was pounding. There was a jumpsuit on the small table next to you. On the floor were socks and slippers. The collar was pretty heavy and seemed to grab at your skin when you pulled. “It won’t come off Mrs. Odinson” a voice said. There was a speaker just above the door.

“Where am I?”

“Change into your jumps.”

“Where am I? Don’t make me ask again.”

“Change into your jumps, prisoner.”

You tried to use your magic but only a tiny spark flickered between your hands.

Your cell doors opened and a familiar face stood in front of you. “Ma’am. I’m Coulson. Come with me.”

“Wait. Aren’t you...”

“Dead? As in your husband killed me? Yeah. Something like that.” He stood in the doorway looking at you expectantly. “Unless you’d rather stay here.”

You followed behind him flipping off the speaker when you left. “Can you remove this collar, Coulson?”

“Please forgive me if I’m not super trusting.”

“Understandable I guess. Where are you taking me?”

“New York. Into S.H.I.E.L.D. custody. It’s the only way the US government will release you. Part of the MCA.”

“MCA?”

“Mutant Control Act. You’re an unregistered omega level mutant. Your powers, as defined by the government, are unlimited. You’re dangerous.”

“So when I’m on Earth, I am a prisoner?”

“When you’re on Earth? You think you’re leaving? You belong to us now.”

He took you along to an airstrip where you boarded a small plane. He helped you into your seat, shackled your wrists and ankles and bid you a safe flight.

——————————————————————

Thor was too scared to tell Loki you were captured. He would have been pissed at the both of you. If he thought you were in danger he would rip Midgard apart to find you. The only person he knew to contact was Steve Rogers.

In Tony’s infinite wisdom, he named Steve his successor of sorts. He called him the Chief Moral Compass of the company. That gave Steve all kinds of contacts and diplomatic immunity in 46 countries.

Steve met your flight at the base in New York. Coulson was thrilled to see Steve again but he wouldn’t release you. He got into the backseat and went with you to the facility where you’d be staying.

You waited for several hours in a holding room. You hadn’t eaten in a couple of days and your body was exhausted without the stones to prop you up. You fell asleep with your head on the table. Finally Steve came in to wake you.

“Hey, Y/N. You’re free to go. Get this collar off of her now!” he said to an agent.

“Can we grab something to eat? I haven’t had anything in a couple of days.”

He planted his hands on his hips and clenched his jaw. You were freaking Asgardian royalty and a human being. Surely that earned you some respect. He was livid. “Seriously, guys? You couldn’t have gotten her food? My apologies, Princess.”

“I would kill for a slice. Ever hear of Joe’s Pizza in Brooklyn?”

He smiled, “Best in New York. How do you know about that place?”

“I was in love with a guy from Brooklyn once.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“He couldn’t handle who I was.”

Steve chuckled to himself, “Then he didn’t deserve you.”

——————————————————————

Pending a hearing, you were released to your mother’s care. You absolutely could not prevent Loki from coming any longer. When he landed you were sitting in the open space where your house would be built.

“This is the perfect spot isn’t it?” You were picking blades of grass and letting them fall through your fingers.

“Afelheim has ample space for cottage building. No cable though. I guess this rules out our extended holiday.” He sat next to you and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I think this is our extended holiday. My hearing isn’t for another month.”

“You know what you did was careless and stupid right? Also incredibly arrogant. Thor didn’t need your help.”

“I know. I don’t know what came over me. It’s like I wasn’t thinking.”

“You weren’t. The stones were. While we’re stuck here, I’d like to get as many people as possible involved in removing them and healing you. That’s even if you can be healed. Your body could be riddled with cancer like poor Jane.”

“Well I’ve saved her from that fate.”

“Not yourself. If I lost you....”

“You’re not losing me.”

You snuggled against him and he kissed the top of your head. He no longer tried to hide his feelings from you. He was afraid. You just found each other again and he was afraid he would lose you. The old Loki would have run screaming. This Loki would fight for you. And, if he had to, he would follow you into Hel. Maybe he was selfish in that regard. He lost you once. Never again.

#loki of jotunheim #loki fanfic #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x reader #loki smut #witch #mcu witches #small time witch

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nosferatvpussy · 4 years

Text

distorted lullabies [chapter XI]

Word count: 5,131

Warnings: vulgar language

Pairing: Dracula x female reader

AO3 link

Author’s note: My beta reader gave me a few suggestions and it's truly something that's been bugging me, so I decided it would be better to check with you guys, my readers. I'm writing this story purely for fun so I don't mind changing things. I'm not well versed in writing Character x reader stories and I'll admit the whole concept sometimes escapes me (ahem, fully does) and my beta pointed out that it's become an OC x Dracula fic. This chapter in particular touches into something that may upset some people if they're really invested into the reader POV, which is religion. You may not agree with the reader's thoughts regarding christianity, and I don't want to needle anyone's beliefs because this is a reader insert. My question is: would you guys prefer if I gave the reader a name, in which case she becomes a fully realised character? I'll still avoid describing her because then you can picture her however you like. Longwinded question, I know, but I thought it deserved some explanation. On a more positive note, I made two spotify playlists; one is oriented towards alternative songs (mostly) and the other one is purely made up of classical pieces.

Regardless, ENJOYYY

________________________________________________________

The rest of the trip would have been completely silent if it wasn’t for Portishead’s music.

I barely looked at Dracula as he dropped me off at the Airbnb I had rented. He parted with a promise to meet me at the wedding tomorrow and an indifferent goodbye, although when I made it all the way to the flat’s second floor, his car was still parked at the front door. When I turned around to throw my backpack on the bed and looked out the window again, the black BMW was gone.

Not even the wide array of DVD stacks inside the Airbnb managed to keep my mind off of Dracula.

After settling in and having a shower, I occupied myself with sitting in front of the TV in the living room and analysing the owner’s collection – an impressive one at that – however, when I picked up a copy of The Rocky Horror Picture Show I could almost hear Count Dracula laughing as I sang along to Frank N Furter and immediately put the disc back to where it belonged. So I chose something harmless to watch.

As Mulder and Scully bickered about aliens on the television in another episode of The X-Files – really, props to the Airbnb owner for supplying his entire collection to guests – I glanced at my phone for the hundredth time.

Would Count Dracula be a Scully or a Mulder? Such a silly thing to wonder about, nevertheless I was curious about it. Perhaps if he was here with me, watching TV and making his remarks about what was going on, I would manage to concentrate on the episode playing.

It had worked out fine last time. Well, for the most part. As long as we didn’t watch anything with sexual undertones such as Interview with the Vampire, I would be fine. For how long, was the question.

I frowned as I rewinded the last 10 minutes on the DVD player. Scully was lying in a hospital bed while Mulder screamed at a doctor when just two minutes ago Mulder had been talking to their boss. Obviously, I had missed more than two minutes, too stuck in my thoughts about the Count.

I glanced at my phone again.

He’d be gone tomorrow. And I needed to know if he would like Scully or Mulder better.

I took my phone between shaky fingers.

A small part of me, one that was still thinking straight, suggested that maybe I shouldn’t do this on account of that kiss earlier. But nothing of what had happened during that trip mattered anymore, not when I would never see him again. Whatever I did today would have no consequences.

Are you there?

Count Dracula replied just as Mulder screamed at the doctor, and I still had no idea why.

Yes.

I typed a message as quickly as I could before I regretted this.

I can’t sleep.

I chewed on my lip as I waited for a response but when none came, I started typing another text and then erased it. Inviting him over might develop into less innocent things than simply watching TV.

I curled my toes. I came this far. I resisted him this long. There was no reason to jump ship at the last second.

Tomorrow he’d be carted away by the Foundation and while I would very much like to do more than kiss Count Dracula, the idea of giving myself to him and then never feeling his touch again seemed unbearable.

Do you want to take a stroll through Gloucester?

I’ll be there in a few minutes.

His reply came so quick that he must have been staring at his phone, waiting for me to send another text.

I rushed to change from pyjamas into jeans, jacket and boots. I had just finished fixing up how I looked when my phone buzzed. Without bothering to read the text, I left the flat, heart beating like a hummingbird’s as I went down the stairs to the building’s front door.

Count Dracula wore the same leather jacket as earlier, waiting for me just as he had waited hours ago in London.

“Did you walk all the way here?” I asked as soon as I noticed the BMW’s absence.

“I was in the neighbourhood.” He smiled.

“Exploring?”

He smirked but said nothing.

“Eating, then,” I concluded. “Drinking, sorry. I forgot you get stuck in the technicalities.”

“You get used to it,” he said, extending a hand for me.

I gasped when I placed my hand on his. Someone else’s blood had made his temperature rise from cadaveric cold to match my own but I was too fascinated by how plump his flesh felt to care about an unknown person’s death.

“You don’t feel like a statue,” I said, squeezing his hand to make sure I wasn’t imagining things.

“You get used to it,” he repeated. “Come. I found a lovely place to break into.”

He pulled me to him so fast that my stomach lurched. I almost lost balance but he wrapped an arm around my shoulders to steady me.

“May I remind you that I’m human and next time you do this I might throw up in your shoes?”

My vision was still swimming and I had to lean my body on his until I could see properly.

“I’ll warn you next time.”

I craned my neck to look up at him, noticing absently that I had my arms around him in a hug. Light coming from a neighbouring house glowed behind his head likening a saint’s halo. Horns would be more suitable, and more alluring.

“Will I like this place you intend to take me?”

“More than I will,” he said, securing me in an inescapable hold, one I had no desire to fight. “It’s a cathedral.”

“Gloucester Cathedral?” I loosened my arms around him. “It’s a holy place,” I said and he cocked an eyebrow. “Can you even set foot in there?”

He snorted.

“I can waltz with you in there while reciting biblical verses as long as I don’t look upon the cross.”

“I’d like to see that. A healthy dose of blasphemy is always fun.”

A slow smile spread on his lips.

“Then you’ll love it.”

To my dismay, he untangled himself from me but still kept an arm around my shoulders in a half embrace. Instead of avoiding him, I circled his waist with my arm, basking on how uncharacteristically warm he felt in comparison to the chilly night.

Dracula looked at me with furrowed eyebrows, though a grin creeped on his mouth. For the first time, we had exchanged roles – he, doubtful that I was so willing to touch him, and I, sure of what I was doing ever since I struck that deal.

Pity it wouldn’t last long.

“Lead the way,” I told him.

_______________________________________________________

Except for a couple of stray cats and a dog, Count Dracula and I were the only ones wandering through Gloucester’s narrow streets and quaint façades. The moon was hidden but with how bright it glowed, even beneath a swath of cotton clouds, I would guess it was full.

I relied more on Count Dracula’s eyes than on the unsteady old street lights that seemed to hail from the 18th century, but I didn’t need his vampire eyes to catch a glimpse of a towering Gothic building, concealed behind a row of modern restaurants and stores, all closed now that it was closer to dawn than to dusk, wedged inside small houses stylised in Tudor architecture.

“Here we are,” said Dracula just as we rounded the corner and faced Gloucester Cathedral.

It was an enormous and monstrous thing yet beautiful all the same in all its complicated detail of spiking roofs and pointed narrow glass that composed huge windows amongst blocks of stone. Sculptures of saints and kings stood watch at the front, arching above the intricately woven entrance.

“Is there an alarm this time?” I asked as we approached the door.

“What for? Christians trust their god to keep it safe. There is someone sleeping inside, though. A priest if I had to guess, so we’ll have to be very quiet.”

“There goes my plan,” I said, although I had none. No space for calculated words and carefully measured tone there. All I had left was impulsivity, and saying things without really meaning them provided me with a rush unlike any other.

“What plan is that?” Dracula questioned, side-eyeing me.

I shrugged.

“What does it matter if I can’t be noisy now?” I snickered. I would have tried being reckless more often if I’d known I would earn so many bewildered looks from Count Dracula. “Open the door.” I bidded, staring at him. “Please?”

Something crossed his gaze, something that made me wish that he would press me against a wall and demand that I tell him about my sordid plan. But he did no such thing.

“Since you asked nicely,” he said, just as he had done earlier during our trip.

Dracula forced the door open with the same ease I would have opened an unlocked door.

My mouth was a little dry but the thrill of doing something forbidden still made my heart thud, despite the fear of being caught. Perhaps I’d been developing a new habit of doing dangerous things such as making deals with vampires, and getting excited at the prospect of desecrating a church with one. I would have to find a substitute to that after he was gone but I couldn’t think of anything that could compare.

I followed Count Dracula into the cathedral’s nave.

The massive round pillars surrounding the aisle took away some of the simplicity of the ribbed vaulting, which derived from early Gothic architecture if I remembered my art classes correctly. There weren’t any pews positioned in usual rows as most churches did, and from where I stood I couldn’t spot an altar. The place seemed bare without them but it was still imposing, as most religious things were, I supposed.

The ground's yellowed stone, that one day may have been white, was dappled with a luminescence of blue, red and purple. I whirled around, looking up to find out where that variety of colours came from, and grinned upon finding a stained glass window that extended all the way up to the ceiling.

“I never liked churches as a child,” I whispered to Dracula, ignoring that he probably knew it. “They creeped me out. I couldn’t understand how some people felt love inside them, when all I felt was judgement. And like I was being watched by saints, angels and Jesus.” I grimaced as I admired the pictures on the glass. Saints looked back at me with their saintly stare. Jesus Christ was pictured at the centre pane. “My parents weren’t very religious but my grandmother was one of those fervent catholics, full of guilt and fear. She used to take me to mass every other Sunday at Westminster Abbey until one time when I started arguing with the priest during his sermon about how illogical the bible is at some points.” I glanced at Dracula and saw him chuckling soundlessly. “I was 13. My grandmother was so humiliated and angry at me that she never took me to mass again.”

“And you were relieved to never have to go back again,” Dracula supplied. “How do you like churches now?”

“I like them as long as I’m just visiting. And I’m not scared of them anymore, not since I won that argument with the priest.” I looked at him. He was making a point of observing the rest of the church instead of gazing at the stained glass as I was. “You were raised christian, too. And if Wikipedia is right, you fought in the name of God.”

“In another life.” He bobbed his head, lacing his hands behind his back as he wandered down the aisle. “Not the foolish, gullible and fearful catholic as Justina was.” Dracula cast a brief glance at me. “My late wife.” He explained but I had already surmised as much.

Since he had mentioned her without my needing to ask, I felt the urge to goad him with more questions. The urge to see that odd semblance of grief in his face as I had seen weeks ago. The reminder that he was capable of emotion, still. But I left it alone. It was possible he would shut down and assume that distant and impenetrable façade, and then our last date would be over much faster than I was ready for it to be.

“No, you were more the type to rip people to shreds when they didn’t condone your faith.” I lowered my voice mid sentence when my words echoed.

Following him down the aisle, I noticed that a big apparatus was raised up in a wooden structure ahead of us and it looked like an organ. Had we been alone at the church, I would have climbed up the stairs to knead a few keys just to hear the resounding, spine-chilling noise it would make.

“Precisely.” Dracula laughed.

“Did you ever do it for fun?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you did.”

He turned around, stopping at the centre of the aisle a few metres away from me.

“For fun, for boredom, but most of all to instill fear into my enemies’ hearts. Does it still bother you?”

I stopped.

It had when I first found out about it. And although he had just admitted torturing people simply for the fun of it, it didn’t bother me nearly as much as before. I ought to have been disgusted or disapproving, at the very least. It was a little worrying that I didn’t feel any of those things, like I had just discovered a part of me that was capable of terrible cruelty.

“No,” I said. “Not anymore.”

Dracula’s grin was all teeth as if that answer was everything he had been longing to hear.

“You’re not nervous tonight.” He was still grinning. “You’re usually nervous around me.”

“Usually,” I agreed, smirking.

Was this how it felt? Not having to worry, not caring about what could happen, not being cautious about every little thing, not minding that he had done horrible deeds and I still wanted his lips on mine?

This foreign feeling swelled inside my chest and my smirk became a grin.

“Let’s see the rest of the place,” I said, beckoning him with my hand. “There is a door back there and I think I saw something interesting.”

I didn’t wait to see if he would follow and simply turned around, heading to my right where I had seen a long corridor dappled with more colourful light from stained glass. Through an arched portal, I could see the extent of the corridor but it still didn’t prepare me when I crossed the threshold.

What I thought was only one corridor, was actually two positioned in an L-shape and I stood at the cusp of both. Elaborate lines composed patterns on the vaulted ceiling and walls, fanning into long and curved designs etched in stone and ending in what resembled flowers. Light poured from a collection of stained glass windows and with the way each corridor bent at their ends, I supposed the structure continued until it formed a rectangular. I squinted past a clear glass on a windowpane, and smiled. I could make out shapes of trees and what looked to be a fountain outside. These weren’t corridors but covered walks surrounding a square. Westminster Abbey had something similar.

“Gorgeous,” whispered Dracula.

I turned around to see what he was admiring. His stare was fixed on me, and I had a feeling it had been the same way when he spoke. He moved towards me and the stained glass bathed his face in red. Dracula placed one of my hands on his shoulder and took the other one into his own, extending our joined hands up in a dancing stance.

“I’ll step on your feet,” I warned as he splayed a hand on my back. “I’m not a good dancer.”

“I’ll teach you. Waltzing is easy, and I told you we would waltz.”

In a hushed voice as to not wake whoever slept inside the cathedral, Count Dracula instructed me how, his knees touching mine ever so slightly to point me in the correct direction as I stared down at our feet rasping on the floor, his hands pushing and tugging gently as we swayed to silence.

After a little while, I felt confident enough not to step on his feet, although I had done it a few times during his lesson, and looked up at his face. We were both a mess of colours and blurry features clouded in darkness as we danced out and into the stained glass light. The air was so chilly that my lungs burned with the effort of dancing, his hand so unrealistically warm on mine as we danced pointlessly – it was surreal, and filled me with an unusual melancholy that I wouldn’t experience something like that again and happiness because I had let myself experience it.

“I dare not ask for love–” Dracula’s words cut through the silence and I drew a sharp intake of breath for what he was about to say. His next words were accompanied by the cadence people used to recite something, which removed some of the impact of what he had first said and I relaxed.

“ I dare not ask for love – with all

My many sins, both great and small,

I am perhaps of love unworthy!

But if feigned love, if you would

Pretend, you’d easily deceive me,

For happily would I, believe me,

Deceive myself if but I could. ”

I held my breath halfway throughout but continued to dance. The mention of love completely escaped me when he spoke of deceit and I could not help but wonder if he suspected me of it. Did he know I was leading him on and did not care? Or did he know about me and Zoe and this was just a fancy way of telling me so? My heart raced. I hoped he took it not as panic but exhilaration instead.

“Is that in the bible?” I asked in a shaky voice.

“It’s Pushkin. I’ve been reading Russian literature again, old and new and it’s stuck in my head. Pushkin remains a favourite of mine and Anna Akhmatova is a close second from the new generation. Well, old generation, for you.” He chuckled. “The Pushkin stanza sounds better in Russian. Most things sound better in Russian,” he said in an even voice. I raised my eyebrows at him, and he recited the verses in Russian, and although I understood none of it, it did sound better. “This, however, is from the bible. I don’t remember from which book but I remember that I liked it when I was human. I’m translating directly from Latin, though, because that’s how I studied the bible, so I’m taking a few liberties here to make it sound better, and less ridiculously holy. It goes like this: Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave. It burns like blazing fire, like a mighty flame.”

“It could very well be Pushkin,” I offered.

“It could. Ironically, I prefer these verses more than Pushkin’s.” He laughed lightly and I fully relaxed. He sounded like himself, not at all as if he knew something he wasn’t supposed to.

I did wonder, though, why he chose those verses out of anything else to declaim. Pushkin was a hopeless romantic through and through from what I had read of him. Of Anna I knew little but what I did know spoke of bitterness, death and failed, tragic love. Why suddenly speak of love? He could’ve quoted something else from the bible. Perhaps something to do with Samson and Delilah, since we had joked about it in the past. Anything else would have made more sense, even the parts that made no sense at all and had driven me to argue with a priest years ago.

Was Count Dracula attempting to tell me something? No. Couldn’t be. He was as forward as one could be. And the idea of him feeling anything remotely close to love seemed a little silly.

He had loved Justina; more than he thought he was capable of, he’d said. But that had been centuries ago in another life.

For a moment my determination in being reckless faltered and I felt at loss for what to say.

Dracula let go of me briefly to spin me around in a move I wasn’t as deftly trained in as he was, causing me to squeal at the velocity and trip over my feet. I thought I would fall but he caught me and started moving again in the waltz pattern he had taught me. Laughter bubbled up to my throat in my hurry to catch up with him and the sound of it was amplified by the long walls. Dracula’s laughter joined mine until it became a song for which we danced.

It doesn’t matter, nothing matters. I thought as I gazed up at him. He’ll be gone and whatever I say doesn’t matter anymore. I can entertain even the wildest of things because they’ll never happen. Nothing will happen, for the rest of time.

“I’ve got one for you,” I breathed as we spun in a dizzying pace. “The Devil’s hands directs our every move; the things we loathed become the things we love.” It didn’t come out nearly as expertly as his declamation but I was out of breath, spinning and spinning as he commanded. Like a ballerina in a music box. Dracula simply stared at me, the corners of his lips in their own fight of tugging upwards or downwards. “It’s Baudelaire. Have you read it?” I wasn’t sure if I saw him shake his head. Suddenly, we were dancing so fast that I could barely see my surroundings, much less his face. “I know Baudelaire as you know the bible, only the parts that matter, but I know them from heart. There’s one phrase that I particularly relate to, especially now.” I gulped as if I was looking down a cliff. “What can an eternity –”

Dracula stopped abruptly and I gasped, strands of my hair landing on my face as my head reeled at suddenly being motionless. The world still whirled around and I swayed on my feet as if I had forgotten how to keep myself standing up still, but the Count’s grasp kept me in place.

Interrupting our dance, I realised not a second later, was for the best. I’d been about to quote something very dangerous, something that could land me with both feet on a grave for all eternity with Count Dracula. And I would’ve said it out of sheer wickedness, just because I was tempted about what could happen if I broke a few rules.

I looked up at his face, heart teetering on the verge of stopping in fear of what I would find in his expression. But Dracula wasn’t paying attention to me. His eyes were focusing past my head. And then I heard it. Footsteps.

Our laughter must have woken up whoever had been sleeping inside the cathedral.

“What -?” A male voice drifted from behind me, sounding panicked and angry. “You can’t be here at this hour!”

“Shit,” I whispered to Dracula. “What now?”

He gave me a lopsided grin.

“This is your warning,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice now that we had been caught. I had time to frown at his reply before both of Dracula’s arms pulled me into an embrace, my feet swinging beneath me. I emitted a sound of surprise but didn’t struggle. “Hold on and please try not to throw up on my shoes, they’re rather expensive.”

I had one valuable second to wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his chest before we moved faster than I thought was possible. My insides tossed inside of me, suddenly demanding for a way out of my body’s cage. I kept my eyes closed the entire time, too frightened of opening them. I had never gone on a roller coaster ride but I supposed the feeling was similar.

Gusts of wind assailed my hair and threatened to steal the breath out of my lungs. I was afraid the feeling would last forever until we finally stopped and I landed on safe ground.

“You can let go now, Y/N.”

“Can you give me a second?” I mumbled, eyes still shut. “I think my soul is still trying to find a way back into my body.”

Dracula’s laughter tickled my ear and I tightened my hold on him. He did, too, his fingers pressing gently on the flesh of my back. Slowly, as if in a limp, my senses caught up with me and my stomach settled on what felt like an appropriate position.

I opened my eyes tentatively and turned my head to the side. Startled, I realised he had brought me all the way from Gloucester Cathedral to the street where my Airbnb rental was located. And he’d done it in a span of two minutes, if not less.

I tipped my head to look at him, resting my cheek on the cold of his leather jacket. Dracula’s eyes were closed, sets of black eyelashes casting soft shadows on his face, and he was breathing steadily. Not because he needed to, I presumed, but because he was taking in my scent. My lips tugged up automatically; it was odd perceiving that as something sweet but I did.

His throat moved, drawing my attention. A most devilish thought occurred to me and before I gave myself too much time to dwell on it, I stretched up and nibbled at the skin of his neck. It lasted no more than five seconds but the sound that came out of Dracula would be seared into my memory forever. Raw, rapturous, and chilling at the same time. Satisfied, I let go of him, but he didn’t let go of me. Too fast for me to react, he took my hands and placed them where they had been, and then trapped me into his embrace again.

I had just blurred some very important lines with what I had just done, and yet part of me only cared about the thrill of it.

“Your scar has faded,” he said, and my heart hammered madly. A hand delved into my hair, grabbing a mass of it to expose my neck. “You didn’t really think you could get away with what you just did, did you?”

“Not really. But if you bite me without my consent, then the deal is off.”

“And I have no intention of breaking my word. Don’t think of this as reprisal. It’s more of a gift, such as you’ve just given me.”

Dracula bent his head slowly towards my bare neck, like he was giving me time to protest. I remained silent. It was imprudent, this need to know what he would do, but I wanted to garner every possibility of my time with him to cherish in my heart, forever. And the uncertainty of it made me all the more excited. I stared up at the sky and then his lips touched my throat where he had bitten me, softly, so very softly. And then again, not softly at all. Riveting pleasure sparked to life as if the scar was still fresh and I choked on my breath. Dull teeth nibbled the skin there and a flash of pulsating warmth coursed down my chest and back, spreading gradually in the same way spilled blood spread on the ground: trying to encompass everything in its wake, tainting it with inevitable appeal and fear of what it meant. I held on to Dracula forcefully, more forcefully than one would judge to be adequate, and he laughed against my skin before giving it a long lick.

“Careful,” he whispered in my ear. “I may interpret your willingness as consent. And I know you well enough to know you won’t give it to me easily. Will you?”

“No.” The word was automatic and I thanked the part of me that still harboured a sense of self-preservation above my heedless desire for him. However, I still leaned all of my weight on him and made no attempt to put distance between us, as I should’ve. “Not easily at all.”

Dracula, showing way more restraint than I had all night, disentangled my hair from his fingers and stepped back. It took everything in me not to launch myself into his arms again but I let my hands drop to my sides.

“You’re dangerous,” he accused.

“Not as much as you are.”

“A different kind of dangerous.” He licked his lips. Could he taste my skin in his mouth?

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is one.”

I smiled. Being called dangerous filled me with power. Power over him. I was delighted for only a second before wondering if he would think the same thing tomorrow when I stuck a needle with sickly blood in him.

“The cathedral was a good idea,” I said. “Defiling a church has always been in my to-do list, plus I learned how to waltz. So thank you for that.” I sighed. “I should really go to bed now, and so should you. Isn’t the sun almost coming up?”

He nodded.

“Before you go–” he looked behind me with obvious disdain at the building I was staying at and then back at me “–what were you quoting before the priest came upon us?”

I gulped.

“I don’t remember.”

He narrowed his eyes, shifting closer.

“You’re lying. I thought we had established that you don’t lie to me.”

“You established that.” I stepped back, conjuring a cheeky smile. “I didn’t.”

“Tell me.”

“I’ll regret it,” I admitted. “And I prize my sleep. I prefer not to go to bed with a heavy heart.”

He stared at me for a long moment and I waited under his scrutiny, doing my very best to keep it together.

“Tomorrow, then,” he finally said. “Tell me tomorrow.”

But I wouldn’t tell him tomorrow. I would tell him nothing at all.

“Okay. Goodnight, Dracula.”

“Goodnight, dear.”

As I laid my head on the pillow that night, I realised I still didn’t know if Dracula would like Scully or Mulder better. And would never know.

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