#it was so hot. there were two times she had to pause and direct security and water bottles to places in the crowd

[sophieebridgerton]

on the bus now so let me say: SLAYYYYYYYYYYYY

[bubbleteajune]

Code Cadou: Elemental

Description: F/n Cadou was an orphan taken in by Claire Redfield. She was trained, she was taught, and most of all, she learned of her superhuman abilities.

Due to those abilities, F/n would set off on her first mission with well known agent, Leon S. Kennedy to retrieve the president’s daughter. This, being her first mission, wasn't exactly simple. At all.

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Warnings: Strong Language, Gore, Tooth Rotting Fluff.

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Seven Years Later

It had been seven years since you were rescued from the grips of Umbrella and sent to live in DC with Claire. Through those years you trained and practiced with the best of the best to become a special agent for the Division of Security Operations, D.S.O for short.

Your age had been something well spoken about by your older peers. It was the first time a nineteen-year-old had ever joined. However, they never knew the reason and frankly, you didn't understand it yourself. It was a well-known fact that the government knew you had superhuman abilities.

Instead of letting you fall into the hands of just anyone, they chose to take you in and learn everything about you. At this point in your life, the only thing you understood was how dangerous you were and that fact alone scared you.

So, here you were, pacing back and forth inside of the most well-known building you could think of; the white house. A car had been sent to Claire's place for you, and you were told it was an emergency. This being the only reason your feet hadn't stopped moving to begin with. Once, you'd arrived, you'd been told to wait for a door to open. The same door you paced outside of.

Your eyes were glazing the marble tiled floors while your hands remained on your hips, steps going from one end to the other. Until the door was opened to reveal a blonde-haired man in a leather jacket along with the typical suits.

•••

Somewhere in Spain

You were quietly sat in the back seat next to Agent Leon S. Kennedy, the name not going unnoticed for you. The bumpy ride made your stomach hurt. You were on your way to a remote village in Spain. Apparently, the president's daughter had been kidnapped, so you'd been sent to find and retrieve her.

"You're a long way from home cowboy." The man on the passenger side piped up to Leon. "You have my sympathies."

"Guess that's a locals way of breaking the ice. Either way, you know what this is all about, our assignment is to search for the president's missing daughter." Leon simply states.

"All by yourself with that - little girl?"

You felt your face become hot with anger, rage bubbling up into piping steam.

"Look, I'm sure you boys didn't just tag along so we could sing kumbaya together at some boy scout bonfire..." Leon pauses for a moment, "then again, maybe you did."

Your anger subsides hearing Leon pick fun at one of the men escorting the two of you.

"You crazy Americans, it's a direct order from the chief himself I tell you, it's no picnic." The man's voice suddenly laced in anxiety.

"Either way, we're counting on you guys." Your voice was stern with offense from two seconds ago. You caught Leon smirking before his regular unemotional face set in again.

You knew you were here under the intention that someone with a close resemblance to Ashley was deep inside of a depressing village in Spain. Your mind brings you back to the meeting at the white house, watching the dull-colored trees and bushes rush by. You felt as if the drive was going on forever, caught in a cycle until it slowed to an abrupt stop.

The engine continued rumbling as the passenger seated officer opened the door and made his way to the back of the car. The driver then pulled out a red pack of cigarettes. Lifting one out of the pack and offering it to both you and Leon. You shook your head and Leon waved his hand in refusal.

Your eyes wandered back to the dark scenery outside. Making note of the thick fog that blanketed this place for miles.

"Say," The driver's eyes peaked at yours through the mirror, "aren't you a little- young to be an agent?" Your eyes narrowed, but you simply just frowned.

"Apparently not." sarcasm evident in your tone. You challenged his stare through his own mirror before he backed off. Eyes flicking back to the scene in front of him.

"Sorry I took too long." The second officer sat down in the car before closing his door and soon the car was back on the road for another half an hour...

The car ended up pulling to a stop in what seemed like the woods. It was foggy and ominous, you could smell the pain and sadness through the car's metal build.

"The village is just up ahead." The passenger man spoke again. "Good luck."

"We'll stay in the car, don't want to get any parking tickets." the passenger officer added.

Leon nodded, "Thanks, we'll check it out." Before promptly stepping out of the car. "Jeez, who were those guys?"

You chuckled softly, closing the door behind you as you made your way over to Leon who had just gotten a call.

"Leon, I hope you can hear me, I'm Ingrid Hunnigan. I'll be your support on this mission."

"Loud and clear, somehow I thought you'd be a little older," Leon replied, flirtatious tone evident in his voice. You listen in close, there was a small pause before you decided to speak up.

"So the subject's name is Ashley Graham, right?" She immediately answers you, "that's right, she's the daughter of the president, so try to behave yourself, Leon." Her voice laced in sarcasm.

Leon scoffs at her comment, "Whoever this group is, they sure picked the wrong girl to kidnap." He exclaimed.

"I'll be looking into it more on my end."

"Good. Leon out." You watched as Leon drew his gun. His eyes made note you already had yours ready in waiting.

"This place gives me the creeps." You frowned. Leon began walking ahead, "try to stay focused, and you'll be alright."

You lightly scoff at his comment. Seems nothing scares the 'ole Kennedy. Speeding up your feet, you make it back to Leon; Walking side by side, leaves crunching with each step.

"So I heard this was your first mission. You think you can handle it?" Leon's voice penetrated the foggy air around you. His eyes glanced towards the side of your head. You didn't question how he would know this. He has to know what his partner is capable of, but your mind spun at the thought of Leon knowing about your past; Just where you came from.

"Does anyone ever truly know what they can handle?" This time your eyes made contact with his. "So, yeah I think I can handle this." You walked ahead on the path, seeing a truck, farther in the distance was a cabin. You hadn't noticed Leon's blues eyeing you due to your answer, but it was too late for he'd shaken away what was on his mind and followed the reckless you behind.

You and Leon cautiously made your way towards the seemingly open door. Only to enter and find a man scraping at his fireplace.

"Excuse me, sir." your voice rang out. Once the man finally turned to look at you, Leon stepped in front of you, having questions of his own.

"Excuse me, but" reaching into his pocket, Leon pulled out the picture of Ashley. "Do you happen to recognize the girl in this photograph?"

He replied in Spanish and since you weren't fluent, you had no idea what this man had just said. However, Leon acted as if he knows what he's saying, telling the man "sorry I bothered."

As Leon went to turn away, the man gripped hold of his axe and began to lift it. He swung, but you quickly hit the handle with your palm, causing it to fly in the opposite direction and

"FREEZE!" Leon yelled, gun aimed. The man wouldn't stop and attempted to chase Leon, but before he could take Leon out, he was neutralized. His body slammed against the wood floor with a bang.

"Leon, the truck." You spoke, noticing the truck starting in the distance. In horror, you watched more town's people come out of the woodwork.

"Shit, let's go."

You scoff but obey, conscious of the chaos going on around you. Leon opens the door, gun popping the first line of sick villagers.

"Cadou, take my right side, ill take your left." He voices, before closing in on your face, "and don't hesitate." Your face flustered from the close proximity. "Got it," you replied. He leaned away and started letting off rounds to your left. You followed suit, taking the ones on his right.

Soon the echo of gunshots stopped as the villagers became docile to the sound of a church bell. "Why are they stopping because of a damn bell?" You inquire, frustrated, looking toward the church.

"I'd still be pretty pissed to have my house broken into." You watched as each man and woman walked by you as if not just attacking you moments ago.

"Where's everyone going?" Leon paused looking around, "Bingo?"

•••

"Hunnigan, I recovered the body of an officer, something's happened to the people here." Leon's voice flapped around in your head as you listened to the two of them speaking. Thinking back to one of the officers burning at the stake in the middle of town... This was only the start and it's already so brutal.

"You and F/n need to get out of there... try looking for a tower and follow the trail near it."

"Got it." Leon shoved his transmitter in his pocket, peeking over at you. "Hey, what's the matter? Got cold feet or something?" His taunting voice forced your eyes of daggers to impale him furiously.

You stood from your spot on a stump, "I've had things on my mind, no time to have a therapy session, let's go."

"Oh, now you're the one giving me orders? How old are you again?" His voice teetering on the edge of sharp tongue sarcasm. You made it a point to walk ahead of him in the direction of the tower, eventually, closing in on small rickety cabins.

"Stay on your guard, Cadou." It wasn't a moment later when the owners of these old cabins made themselves known. Leon was quick as always, deadly trigger finger shooting three in the head, while you used your once sheathed combat knife. Grabbing onto the villager's shoulder and slamming the knife into their temple.

You and Leon made quick work of the hostile villagers, moving bodies aside to check each building. Leon spotted another cabin, urging you to follow behind him. While inside one of these old cabins you heard a banging noise you hadn't heard inside any other home.

Boom Boom

"Leon, tell me you hear-"

"Shhh." He unintentionally placed his hand over your mouth. Your eyes widened as you grabbed his hand, slowly moving his fingers away from your mouth, as you eyed the side of his head.

"Get on that side of the wardrobe and wait for my signal." Leon pointed to the right side, but a bit further away.

You grabbed your pistol, readying yourself to fire, waiting for his signal. Leon leaned his back against the wardrobe facing the door...

...then he finally nodded. Making quick work to open the door. As he did so, a man with his hands tied behind his back and a gag fell out like a ton of bricks. You were quick to have him in your crosshair.

Leon leaned down and ripped the gag from the man's mouth.

"Little rough, don't you think?" The man spoke his thick accent apparent. Leon rolled him over, beginning to untie him from his bindings.

"Y-you're not with them?" He voices

"No." Leon pauses. "You?"

"Nope, but I do have an important question... Got a smoke?"

"Got gum," Leon replied.

Boom boom boom

"What the hell is that noise." You boomed.

Boom boom boom

"Perfect, the big cheese." The man says wearily.

"What are you talking about?"

Leon's question was answered when a tall terrifying man adorning red eyes and a large overcoat made his way over to us.

Leon was quick to move and so were you.

Leon sprung into action, kicking the overcoated figure in his chest. However, Leon was grabbed and launched across the room into fallen debris.

You attempted to get ahold of the guy, by running and launching yourself in the air using the nearby wall, but the only thing you remember is being in the air, on the ground, then nothing.

Hello! I hope you enjoyed it at least a little. This story is going to be a slow burn. I am not the best writer, though this is the first book I have written and have decided to post it on tumblr!

New chapters will be out each week! Stay tuned.

Also, the ages of all characters have been changed to fit better into the timeline I’ve created for the reader.

[rinwellisathing]

You're Awful, I Love You: Part 15

Enver Gortash/Trans male Tiefling Durge

Content warnings: attempted rape, dead naming, misgendering

The following morning, Sentry and Enver stood redressing in the sculpture garden. Their eyes occasionally met with an almost magnetic feeling. Neither spoke a word until they were both fully clothed and standing before The Slayer and The Tyrant sculptures.

“It is a stunning piece, my love.” Gortash remarked.

“Your...” Sentry felt his face flush brightly at the words. He could almost smile at them until he felt a wrenching pain in his head and a twist in his stomach, vision blurring red for a moment. Father's disapproval.

“In fact, it gives me an idea. Give me about a day to do some digging and I'll send word.” The Tyrant continued, his expression deeply thoughtful, brimming with the tell tale signs of inspiration.

Sentry shook off the whispers with some effort and nodded. “With that being said, sending it with a messenger might be dangerous, I think we need some extra security when it comes to planning things together.”

“Yes, you're right. After all, not just our own subordinates but prying eyes within the city.” Enver agreed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I'd imagine a man of your creative interests dabbles beyond the visual arts. How are you with language?”

“I mean, I've read a lot. Copper Dreadfuls mostly.” Sentry replied, turning and running a hand over the bowed head of his Slayer sculpture, lovingly examining the horns for any touch ups that might be needs. “I don't know how that might help...only.....” He paused a moment and wrinkled his nose in thought. “Only in one of them, the detective at quite a devil of a time solving notes he found at the crime scene....you see, the killer communicated in code with his network of underlings.”

“You know, I think I've also read that one in passing. It's not a bad idea.” Enver nodded. “Alright then. We'll come up with one. Just between you and I.”

“Then I'll see you again soon. I look forward to discussing it.” Sentry grinned broadly. The two made their way to the entrance of the macabre gallery and stood a moment, the uncertainty of whether to kiss or simply part ways heavy in the air.

Sentry turned and made his way back towards the temple while Enver went the opposite direction back to the ladder that would lead to the surface.

The entire way home, flashes of pain lashed Sentry's mind and body. Father's red rage making itself known even as he forced himself to stand tall, proud, and imposing as his family would expect. As he walked through the door, he noticed no one was in the common area where they usually were.

“Such a shame.” He sighed. “I was really hoping for another entertaining confrontation, maybe one that might come to blows this time. Ah well.”

He made his way to his bedroom, once the door was open, he began shrugging off his clothing. He was vaguely aware he'd never returned to Sharess' Caress that night, but ah well, he would make it up to his friends tonight. After all, if he knew Ffion, she would simply assume his night had been a great success if he'd been out so long and he was certain Wysp wouldn't mind half as much as everyone thought he would. After all, Sentry held no illusions. Wysp was a friend, Sentry was a client. Anyone who thought someone they were paying was in love with them was an egotistical fool.

As Sentry sat down at his desk to sketch, he was distracted by thoughts of the previous night. He could still feel the sweet, sticky warmth inside him, sending a wave of pleasure through his body. He didn't hear a thing, didn't notice until a dark grey hand was already over his mouth, with the other forcing one of his arms behind his back.

“Father's upset with you, little cub.” The rough, growling voice sneered. Sentry felt the hot breath reeking of cheap booze on his ear. “Told me himself, he did.”

Sentry squirmed and struggled, flipping the charcoal in free hand. It wasn't as sharp as he'd like, but it would make a wound with enough force. He jammed it backwards into Jackal's side, but the angle was wrong, it didn't pierce flesh. Sentry thrashed his body, trying to slam his head into Jackal's face, only managing to knock against his shoulder.

“Struggle and squirm, struggle and squirm. Flail about like the helpless girlie you are.” The drow chuckled. “Father says he's warned you about breeding outside the family line, you little whore.”

“I'm not breeding. I can fuck who I please and that will never be you!” Sentry gave a hard shove backwards, tipping his chair, finally connecting it with Jackal's chest and knocking him backwards. The two rolled to the floor, both scrambling for control as Sentry pulled free and struggled to his feet. Jackal stood up panting just across from him and they circled eachother.

“You're weak, Vereena. You can't do shit without your axes and blades.” Jackal smirked, violet eyes never leaving Sentry. Animal hunger evident in them as the ranger eyed up his prey.

“And you're a fucking fool if you think that's true.” Sentry bristled at the name. “I'll kill you here and now with my bare hands and father will thank me.”

The two sized eachother up, neither making a sudden move. Sentry was tense, wary. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew father was angry. He would have been lying if he'd claimed not to know the reason. But he was chosen, he was the one who was worthy, father could be placated, he knew. The way was always the same. His eyes fell on Jackal's throat, flaring with breath, pulsing with blood.

“The fuck are you staring at, cub?” The drow barked. That was it. His guard was down a second too long and Sentry pounced.

His teeth were in Jackal's throat, ripping and tearing like a wild animal. Useless without his blades, was he? Sentry knew otherwise and his unworthy brother would only be the most recent to learn that. He tasted foul. The odious flavor of the Underdark permeating his blood and meat as Sentry's vision went blood red, mouth filled with elf flesh.

The sickening gurgling and gasping noises were just a vague buzzing in his ears, the knife in his back was barely an insect's sting as he felt the body going limp and lifeless beneath him. He was only half aware of someone helping him to a sitting position and lovingly dabbing at his mouth with a handkerchief.

“Oh, my malevolent monarch can be quite the messy eater, can't he? But I know you do so enjoy it when your breakfast fights back, young master.” Sceleritas cooed softly, fussing over Sentry, expertly removing the hunting knife embedded in this shoulder blade. “Mister Silk was warned so many times to show the proper respect you are due. Such a shame.” The fiend clicked his tongue and shook his head at the corpse. “Shall I take the leftovers to the kitchens, Master?”

“No, he tastes disgusting. Dump him somewhere...Or hang him up as a warning. I really don't care.” Sentry sniffed, disgusted. “I'd say lay him on an altar, but it'd be an insult to father.”

“Ah yes...and on that note, my boy....I did come bearing another message.” Sceleritas began, his tone a bit more tactful now. “While Mister Silk deserved his fate, his words were...not entirely incorrect. Your father of course knows you are not the person your failed set of parents claimed you to be. You rose far above that when you expertly eviscerated them and turned their home into such a delightful gallery of horrors. However, he is aware of your...extracurricular activities....with Bane's Chosen. Please, young Master, be more judicious in how you take your pleasure. Breeding is to be kept within the family.”

“Why does it always come down to breeding? I wasn't -BREEDING- I was fucking.” Sentry snapped. “I'll die before I 'breed' ever again.”

“Of course, of course, my rotted Master. I know, but you must be more careful! I shall fetch Tomi to bring you the proper potions immediately in that case.” Sceleritas bowed and scurried off.

“The next person to say the word 'breeding' is getting a pallet knife through the skull.” Sentry muttered to himself, righting his chair and cursing as he furiously crumpled the ruined page Jackal had disrupted.

[castle-dominion]

castle 6x14 dressed to kill

the fashion designer episode liveblog

dumpster diving my beloved Canon gay characters "I had it first" No you literally didn't

Wedding stuff. Inviting my older bro to watch this w me bc he likes wedding stuff. Something a little less... intense. KB: They are all very girly, with a lot of gauzy photos of love-struck brides looking off into the distance. Love set design btw. RC: Perhaps they’re contemplating the fifty percent divorce rate? MR: Of course it was the 70s so I can't be sure... Those two r so cute & martha is great <3

Hey we've recorded this location before KB: Matilda King JE: ... Ok. .??

LP: a scarf a sash or something. RC: Blue hairs. So she was killed by a little old lady. Or Katy Perry. Or a dr seuss character

speaking of, where IS ryan?

Nice apartment!!! Ryan's outfit. I also liked Esposito's but I didn't like it. Is it legal to be on call 24/7???

Isn't this already their statement?

Ryan tech stuff

u already need to be a hottie? Stare all you want! Actually no. Ew only hiring ppl who.. i'll shut up.

Big bro: oh no it's his mom? his mom is secretly matilda king?

Like Sifu

Recognizes her!?

About 15 minutes lol that's when she did modeling!

Wow bright pink fashion man. So many canon gay characters even tho... I think they ARE canonly gay but they are intended to be gay obv

& she has a business to run!

ella's dead? how? "we're trying to find out" u KNOW how: strangled

Poor serge.

nvm.

episode title: dressed to kill.

If you're fired by matilda that's a rite of passage.

bro says the fibres could have gotten on her neck & THEN she was strangled

Pretty normal looking guy

btw love the background artists

RC: Oh! I just came up with a new title. “Murder is the New Black”. KB: Does that even make sense? KR, showing up: No it doesn't

is it REALLY bigger than fashion?

bro: i think it's the big lady (matilda) liking ella's design & someone else taking credit so they can make it big Me: I'll write that down. *not telling him he's right*

Yay cordova! house!

Usually exterminators get RID of bugs

Black coral?

"yes that's him but his hair was more like this" Knows what he wore

RC: After a tough negotiation that involved my Knicks tickets and naming a character in my next book after his Nana, my friend came up with a name. Marcus Conway.

the captions <3 "couture chick" "that's "chic"

My man looks young but with grey hair Ooh she's hot, rly tall, I love her

Corporate espionage & that's why she was killed

Bro: her cell doesnt work from home!

probs just an online zine bro

Wow art. Wow wedding dress.

Ryan pretty.

The boys watching caskett be mushy KB: can you go with martha?

U could be a regular ex-military, u don't need to make everyone ex special forces babes

Ella called Marcus on the landline oh dear!

love the murder timeline

WOuld she do it herself? Bro: maybe she was pressed for time, didn't know who she could trust

Bro: I think it's the pink guy who heard the call as she was leaving & went after her to protect matilda or he needs to secure his position or he needs to prove his loyalty or he needs to frame matilda to get her job

She's on a call? Ask her to hang up politely? idk.

Wow she be yelling.

"it;s the clothing that stitches it all together, we are their fantasy!

It...IS temper babe

Matilda king is good at this capitalist evilhood.

Yeah illegal illegal gross illegal technically legal but shitty crappy

"What information? Don't say u don't know, say you cannot share. "the weekEnd" oOOohhhhhh so it's fine if hte COPS listen!

We need more beckett+ryan

That's a lot of audio footage. THey're probably rly good at seeing what is important while listening at 2(to 3)x speed. Bro & I were arguinng if it was audio recording or direct recording. Inane to YOU esposito, probs super interesting to sm1 who know what they're talking abt. KB: This directory lists over a hundred people who work there. JE: (wistfully) Yeah. (pause) Lucky I have crazy good hearing. (I'd like to learn more abt that. The man is p musical after all.) KR: *nods* it's true (when did he learn that?) Ah, take me out to the ballgame money atm from that one movie

He's supposed to be working at a fashion place???

She cryin I don't like this gal at all lol At least she says "excuse me" The model didn't show up :(

fall 2015 not 14 babe Nice wood on the walls

MR: Then don’t. I’m sure there’s another venue out there that the two of you will just fall in love with. Bro: the station

Beckett wedding dress Bro: it's gonna be HER dress? Bro: No it's not. It's so ugly. Bro: that's the worst way to do an overskirt, and the overskirt doesn't even match the rest of the outfit it looks sooooo tacked on after the fact. doesn't meet in the front, same length all the way around no taper, nothing to hide or blend the seam/joining point especially with how bulky it is especially at the top. t looks like they misread the instructions and put the petticoats over the dress instead of under it. it's not even white-white it's a warm offwhite which doesn't go with the silver at all. I am a huge fan of overskirts so believe me when I say it would be 100000x better without the overskirt.

Me: austrian crystal, I had earrings with that. What is is tho? Wiki: A rhinestone, paste or diamante is a diamond simulant originally made from rock crystal but … In the US, these are sometimes called "Austrian crystal".

while she's gone for 5 mins send a pic to castle Bro: I like the top of the dress at least, but it looks like they assembled it wrong

She's gonna say no. At least Castle didn' t put down the stuff before he called her. Oh she just claims she didn't want to rush it. Or maybe you could plan for fall 2015!

IT'S STILL THE SAME DAY?

JE: Just Yumi. It – I guess if you don’t have a last name you can charge more. (not clipping but good face.) JE: And in addition to the fact that this model is hot – (he studies the photo) – she’s wearing black coral. Bro out of the blue: two ugly guys & a dog JE: I’m probably going to have to call her in for an interrogation. (just so he can look at a pretty girl acab lol)

Yumi: Models. Lack of food makes them so very fraught.

Bro: It's only been ONE day!?!?!? Me: that's what I said!

Bro: that sash looks like the TYPE of thing she'd have, but I didn't see it specifically.

Love his fashion scarf still lol.

Maybe they were both subconsciously getting the ideas from the air. You come up with the same ideas all on your own. Like music.

Ew copaganda.

WAIT IT WASN'T HIM?

bro: it's the guy! the assistant guy! who I was suspicious of before!

Love all these people & looking weird.

Turns out mobsters are more ethical. Love the music bwang.

Love her jacket btw. & so this entire thing happened in one day but then at the very end it was boom morning new day get julian skip the facts getting the dumpster stuff, then boom take down the murder board & do paperwork & go home?

Ooh fire on in the background Like how she's talking with her hands KB: I wish my mom knew you Me: Maybe she was the one who first bought kate a richard castle book Bro: "actually I DID bang your mom." Me: !? Bro: "So you don't have to worry, she liked me a lot"

gtg cook supper bai

[yelenabemylova]

jealousy, jealousy- gamer!kate x reader

summary: it seems as though kate loves her playstation more than she loves you

The incessant clicks of the buttons coming from Kate's controller were driving you insane.

Hiding your head under your blankets, you groaned loudly, not that your girlfriend could hear you with her headset on.

The same thing had happened every day since she had gotten her new game.

She'd stay up all night gaming, coming to bed after you had gotten up in the morning. The only exception was when she had to go on missions; then she would go to bed at a reasonable time.

Claiming it was because she had a slightly less busy schedule, she promised to return to a somewhat more normal routine soon.

Unfortunately, you didn't believe her.

Kate often struggled to stick to her word, usually when it came to small things, so it didn't bother you too much. However, it still caused you to doubt her whenever she made a promise occasionally.

You huffed, "Kate?"

No reply.

Getting out of bed, you walked over to her, standing in front of her with a frown.

"Hi, baby," she smiled at you, leaning to the side so she could still see the screen behind you.

"I miss you," you pouted.

"I miss you too," she giggled.

It was difficult to be annoyed with her when she was so sweet and adoring.

"Then come snuggle," you whined slightly, knowing her answer would be no.

"I'm almost finished my game, though," she looked at you sadly.

" But we've barely spent any time together recently," you stared at the floor beneath you.

"I'm sorry," she sighed.

"Don't be," you shook your head.

"But I feel bad," she told you.

She always told you she felt bad but never did anything about it. It was infuriating, but you realised very early in your relationship that Kate needed direct communication as she wasn't good at picking up on hints, no matter how much detail you included.

"So come to bed; all you do is play on your xbox, and it's not fair. The console isn't your girlfriend; I am," you took a step closer to her, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

"Oh, honey. It's not an xbox, but are you jealous of my playstation?" she giggled, pulling you onto her lap, pausing her game.

"Well, you spend all of your free time on it," you didn't dare make eye contact with her due to the embarrassment of being jealous of an inanimate object.

"I promise I will always love you the most, and I'm sorry I haven't been spending time with you," she picked you up, carrying you into the kitchen and setting you down on the island.

"It's okay; you don't have to apologise; I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm so stupid for-"

"Nope, none of that," she interrupted you, kissing you softly.

She began to walk around the kitchen, preparing two mugs of hot chocolate before turning on your favourite film in the living room.

Carrying you in, she held you tight as you lay on the couch securely in her arms.

"I love you, much more than I love my stupid playstation," she giggled, kissing all over your face until you were laughing with her.

[heartsofminds]

Blooming II (Sneak Peek)

“You son of a bitch!” Bradley screeched, “I’ll fucking kill you!” or The precursor to Bradley Bradshaw’s commitment issues in the Blooming series. 

Warning: Contains curse words, sexual connotations, and a brief mention of an age-gapped relationship. 

A/N: Welcome back to the Blooming-verse, where our favorite aviator navigates where a certain youngster fits in his life. This is a preview of the second installment of Blooming to keep y’all satiated until the rest of the chapter is finished! Happy reading, and enjoy Naval Academy Rooster, a true blast from the past. 

i. 

It didn’t seem weird that fifteen minutes had passed and there was still no sign of her. 

As a means to prevent himself from worrying to death or pacing around the base like a fucking lunatic, Bradley decided to busy his mind by going over his ever-growing “to-do” list that he kept in the back of his head. 

Despite all the mundane tasks and intrusive and borderline obnoxious thoughts he had going a mile a minute in his brain, Bradley was surprisingly an organized thinker when it came to remembering all the things that he had to do. He carefully sifted through his responsibilities and assigned them blocks of time; effectively deciding where they would fit in his day before he checked his watch again and realized that an entire forty minutes had passed since he had last seen his girlfriend. 

Something was off, and the familiar impending pit of doom that often plagued his stomach made a reappearance as he sped walked up and down the hallways of the base. 

She’s fine, right? The base is huge and she’s terrible with directions so she may have just gotten lost, right? And figured that he would come looking for her, right? She’s fine. She had to be. 

And when Bradley rounded a corner and was met with a supply closet at a dead end, he paused at a loud thump that followed a high-pitched moan. 

“Oh God!” he heard a breathy squeak from a female voice, “Harder, daddy. Please, I’ve been so good!” 

The pit in Rooster’s stomach turned into a ball of fire. He recognized that wheezy gasp anywhere. Hell, he had heard it two nights ago when he had her face down in the backseat of her 2002 Ford Focus. 

He should be the only person eliciting those kinds of sounds from her. He had a death wish for whoever was on the other side of that metal door, because one thing about Bradley Bradshaw was that you never messed with anything that was his. 

Rooster kicked open the door with his fists clenched to his side. He knew his ears were bright red and he felt himself starting to sweat bullets through his uniform shirt. The anger was hot as hell, and if he was in a better mood, he would make the joke that hell was right in front of him.  

Her blouse was unbuttoned and it's been shifted over to one side of her chest, her nipple poking out through the gaped hole the button was supposed to secure. Her bra had long been taken off of her and the denim shorts she had worn to the base are hanging off of a random filing cabinet that was stored in there; showing that they were taken off in a frenzy. 

And low and behold, the man of his disdain (even more so now than ever before) was in front of her, hoisting her up around his waist and fucking into her relentlessly. His uniform top was unbuttoned and his slacks were limp around his hips. 

The sudden kick of the door opening did little to interrupt them, but Jake noticed Bradley standing in front of them; a damn near homicidal gleam in his eye and his entire body flushed pink with red hot anger. And like the asshole that Hangman is, he sent him a smirk and a wink before leaning forward to suck a hickey behind the redhead's ear. 

“You son of a bitch!” Bradley screeched, “I’ll fucking kill you!” 

[pagesfromthevoid]

hello i just wanna say i love your writing so much AND A FUCKING DUCK CHAPTER 10 IS THE CUTEST THING I'VE EVER READ OMG😭 my stomach was fr hurting from all of the fluff

A Fucking Duck | a.c. | 11

Adrian Chase x Bat!fem!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Language. References to sex.

Author’s Note: I did something with characters here. I hope you enjoy it! We’re getting close to the end…👀

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me! | Buy me a coffee?

“Thank you for calling the abandoned siblings hotline, how can I direct your call?”

“Dick, you don’t need to be a fucking —“

“Dick?” He laughed, and she knew he was throwing his head back as he did so.

“God, I hate you so much.”

“Then why’d you call?” He inquired. She heard his boots against the coffee table.

She rolled her eyes as she grabbed her bag, slipping out of her apartment door. Adrian had told her he was getting drunk at Smith’s, so she figured she should go check on the two fools. Smith was already a wanted man again, he didn’t need to take Adrian down with him further. And besides, the asshole was growing on her.

She huffed in frustration and a bit of embarrassment. “I just…I don’t know. I wanted to tell you about Adrian and shit.”

“You and the bus boy still together, huh? I’m surprised Bruce hasn’t shut that down.”

“Bruce can’t do shit about my personal life. I’m a grown woman.”

He scoffed. “You know he doesn’t care about that. So what’s the deal with you and the bus boy?”

Dick could be trusted with secrets. He always was, truthfully. Between him and Jason, both men were her secret keepers when they were growing up. Crushes, sneaking out, or skipping school. Even when things began to get more complicated, he knew she was training with Bruce —just like he was.

“He’s uh,” she paused, considering if she really wanted to tell him. “It’s complicated but not really. I don’t know how to explain it.”

But the truth was that if Dick didn’t already know that Adrian was Vigilante, he would find out soon. Bruce had to know already; he knew everyone’s secret identities. It was…terrifying, honestly. Bruce knew way too much at all times; the paranoid bastard.

“Listen, if you’re gonna tell me your boyfriend is Vigilante —I know.”

Fucking called it.

“Bruce told you?”

“Damian ran a background check on him and we saw he was arrested recently —hacked some of the computers, saw the fight, put two and two together.”

“I have a copy of that security feed on my —wait, why did Damian run a background check on him?”

“Because you’re his sister and he’s annoyingly paranoid?” Dick offered as an explanation. “You do know he’s absolutely out of his fucking mind, right?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, nodding as she slid into her car. “I mean, same.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Okay, well, maybe he’s crazy,” she admitted with a shrug. “But he’s hot, and he loves me, and he eats pussy like a fucking champ so —“

“First of all, how dare you make me picture that. That’s so gross,” Dick groaned, gagging into the phone. “Second of all, did you just say love?”

“I did.” She grinned to herself, starting the car. “I told him I loved him on accident but yeah, he loves me and that’s…I don’t know. That’s fucking cool, I guess.”

“Bruce is gonna be so mad,” Dick laughed again, wholeheartedly and genuine. “Good for you, sis. Found someone to match your crazy.”

“Bruce can fuck off,” she reminded him but she was laughing too. Her phone rang, Adrian’s name popping up over her call. “Hey, I gotta go. But I’ll text you, okay?”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

She rolled her eyes and hung up, answering it with the smile still on her face. “Hey, what’s up pretty boy?”

“What questions should we ask Goff?” He asked, tone hushed. “Be quick so Chris doesn’t get mad.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We’re asking Goff the butterfly questions —“

“Why the fuck do you have Goff —“

“It’s not important, we need to question them —“

“Adrian.”

“Ducky.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, dropping her phone into her lap and hitting the speaker button. “I’m on my way over —“

“Wait, no, go to the video store! We’re gonna head there after this.”

“Adrian —“

“Gotta go, love you!”

The line went dead and she stared out her windshield for a moment. The feeling of Adrian saying he loved her again —though he’d said it plenty the other night —washed over her like a wave of calm. But it was clashing with her frustration that the two had a fucking butterfly. Her hands slammed against her steering wheel as she screamed in frustration.

She peeled out of the apartment complex, high tailing it to their headquarters.

*****

“You looked more pissed than usual,” Economos pointed out as he looked up from his laptop.

“I’m dating a very pretty idiot,” she offered as a simple explanation. “Who isn’t even here yet.”

Harcourt was about respond when Smith and Adrian burst through the door. Harcourt gave them both a dirty look as Murn demanded, “You know anything about that diary they found today?”

“Fuck no, I don’t use a diary,” Smith snapped back. “We have bigger problems —“

“Yeah, we know. You’re a wanted man,” she scolded, crossing her arms over her chest.

Smith gave her a weird look, as if he didn’t recognize her out of uniform. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Goff got out.”

“Yeah, he possessed that Asian cop,” Adrian added.

“Oh my god —“ She started, but Harcourt cut her off.

“You kept Goff?” She demanded.

“Don’t you fucking start with me,” Smith snapped at Harcourt. “I don’t trust any of you fucks. I needed answers.”

“Goddammit, Peacemaker!” Murn snapped back.

“Oh no, you don’t get to talk to me like I’m the problem when you sent Pennywise the fucking clown to help us!” They all gave Smith a weird look, glancing back at Murn at various times. “He fucking executed three cops —one was unconscious when he did it!”

“Murn, what the fuck?” She demanded. Smith looked at her, and she frowned. “Who is this guy you fucking planted?”

Suddenly, Economos raised his hand. “Uh…I think I found something,” he announced. Adrian stepped behind him and she squeezed in, looking over Economos shoulder. “I think I know where the raw amber fluid is coming from.”

Economos continued to explain how he used security feeds to follow the route of the truck backwards until he pieced it all together. About an hour outside of Evergreen was a small ranch, and that’s where the butterflies were going every three days.

“There’s no way the stuffs coming from that barn alone; not with the amount of vats we found,” she pointed out, looking up at Murn.

“Butterflies burrow. Just like at the Goff residence; just like at Glan Tai. We destroy their food source, we destroy the butterflies.”

“What? How the fuck do you know that’ll work?” Smith demanded.

“He’s got a good point,” she offered, standing up straight to look at Murn. “We don’t know that for sure.”

There was a look shared between Adebayo, him and Harcourt; one that she’d seen before but never cared enough to call out. That was how these missions ran; someone always knew more than the rest. It’s just how it was. But something felt off.

“What the fuck is going on? You know, there’s something weird going on and you think me, Crossfire and Vigilante are too stupid to notice —

“Oh I noticed. I just didn’t give a shit,” she quickly offered, smiling insincerely.

Adrian was too busy playing with Eagly to even respond, trying to get the bird to mimic him. Smith glanced between the two of them.

“Oh so you got 66% right but you know what happens when you score a 66? You still get an F —“

“You get a D —“

Murn and Smith stared each other down for a long time, with Smith slowly but surely getting angrier.

“We have reason to believe they have a cow. An animal they milk for the goo. It’s too big for there to be more than one, so that’s their main food source,” Adebayo explained, though she kept her eyes down as she did so.

Smith gave her a dirty look next. “When the fuck were you gonna tell us that?”

“I’m gonna reiterate that I genuinely I didn’t give a shit —“

“We know, Crossfire! You don’t want to be here!” Murn yelled at her suddenly. She looked at him, frowning deeply now as she was about to snap back. “Everyone finish up what you’re doing. We’re leaving at dawn for the ranch.”

Murn stormed out, and the remainder of the team sat in silence as Smith demanded why everyone else knew but they didn’t. He was making a good point; it was seven of them against an alien invasion. That all would have been great Information a few days prior but she also just knew how these teams worked. Smith, however, didn’t.

And she understood his frustrations as everyone wrapped up what they were doing for the night. By the time the Sun had finally set, it was just three of them and Harcourt. Smith had stepped out to bother her, while Adrian and her sat in the back of the store, watching the news.

“You think we’re gonna make it out alive?“ He asked casually, eyes glued to the TV.

She hummed some, shrugging. “Truthfully, no. Maybe you, me and Chris but the rest of the team? Training or not, it’s easier to assume the worst.”

“Wanna take bets on who dies?”

She gave him a weird look, shaking her head. “What? No, Adrian that’s awful. They’re still people; they’re even kinda our friends.”

Kinda was a weird statement, since right now it didn’t feel like any of them were friends. But still. Her point stood.

“Oh. True.”

“During a search of Smith’s home, a diary was found that was written by the suspect,” Locke started to explain. Her attention snapped to the TV but Adrian was already on his feet, heading to Smith.

“Hey, what the fuck. I thought you said you didn’t write a diary,” he announced. She was close on his heels, looking at Smith who seemed confused.

Something was wrong.

Smith followed her and Adrian back, where the TV still played. “The diary states that the world is inhabited by aliens; and it is his job to eliminate them. This diary links Christopher Smith directly to the murders of Annie Sturphausen and the murders of Senator Goff and his family. There are potentially thirty-three other victims from the Glan Tai massacre as well. Rest assured, we will bring him into custody and he will face the penalty of the law. Every police station across the country has been given the same mandate: find and stop the Peacemaker.”

“What the fuck?” Smith suddenly said, before storming out of the room and locking himself in the bathroom.

Adrian and her stood there, watching as the news switched over to the weather. There was an uncomfortable silence between them as they waited for Smith to come out but he didn’t.

“Someone planted that diary,” she finally concluded, turning the TV off. “Chris is stupid but there’s no way —“

“You’re calling him Chris,” Adrian interrupted, looking down at her. “You never call him by his first name.”

“What? Adrian, that’s not all that important. He’s being framed —“

“He’s growing on you, isn’t he? I knew you’d be friends.”

She shook her head, running a hand over her hair for a second. “Dude, now is really not the time for this.”

Adrian simply shrugged, going now to knock on the door of the bathroom. “Dude? Are you okay in there? Hey,” he kept knocking as she leaned against the doorframe of the office room. “Dude, hello?”

The door suddenly opened and Smith stormed out, looking at the TV. “We need to get the fuck outta here. That guy is supposed to be watching our backs; clearly he’s not.”

“Is he a bird?” Adrian asked, frowning.

She pushed off the door, arms crossed. “A bird?”

“Like Goff.”

Smith looked at her now then back at Adrian with a look of annoyance. “Goff is a butterfly.”

“Butterflies are a type of bird,” Adrian explained.

“They’re a bug,” she countered, but Smith was storming off again in anger. She followed suit as Adrian tried arguing that birds and butterflies were the same.

“Where the fuck is Judomaster?” Smith demanded as he opened another door.

“Oh shit, was Judomaster supposed to be here?”

“That’s going to bite us in the ass,” she sighed.

“Fuck it. Not our problem,” Smith announced, gathering his helmets and the duffel bag. “Adebayo must have planted that stupid diary when she came over. I knew I couldn’t trust these people.”

“Why would Adebayo do that?” Adrian asked, frowning deeply.

“Why would she convince you to get arrested?” She offered as a counter, taking her suit out of her bag. Then, without thinking too much about it, she slipped off her shirt.

“Babe, now isn’t really the time —“

“I’m not stripping for you, Adrian. I’m changing into my fucking uniform —“

“But like, you’re naked and that’s great but we’re working —“

She rolled her eyes, kicking off her jeans before pulling her suit on over her legs. Smith stared for a moment but returned his attention to his helmets, explaining he wouldn’t keep a diary anyway; he’d keep a journal. Adrian held out her mask to him, and a hand gun now. She took both, holstering the gun where she usually kept her crossbow. Smith continued to bitch about the diary.

“I would read anything you wrote. I bet you could do some bomb poetry,” Adrian concluded as Smith kept packing.

Economos burst through the door. “Dude I thought you said you didn’t write a diary!”

“I didn’t! Did you see that thing? It looked like it fell out of my vagina.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I feel like I need to be offended —“

“Shut up. Do I look like the type of person who stays up and collages fucking stickers of Jupiter and shit?”

She hummed. “First impressions tell me no.”

Economos nodded in agreement, pointing at her as he said, “But now that I know you, kind of actually,”

Smith shook his head. “Okay, fuck it. If I enjoyed it, I wouldn’t let anyones judgements hold me back. I’d collage all sorts of shit.”

“Are we gonna take back that vagina comment now or —“

“That’s cool,” Economos offered awkwardly.

“I’d make a collage of all of us doing beer bongs and banging chicks with dolphins around us,” Adrian offered as the three heroes grabbed their things and started to leave. She smacked his arm. “Okay, ow, I’d make a collage of them fucking chicks and me fucking you.”

“That’s somehow so much worse.”

“I don’t want dolphins watching me fuck,” Economos added, making a face. “Where are you going?”

“We might as well kill this fucking cow before they find us,” Smith explained, loading his gun.

“We are? Cool!” Adrian exclaimed, grabbing his mask.

She shrugged and placed her own over her face as Smith walked off, carrying his weapons. Adrian followed behind as she turned to Economos.

“You coming?” She asked.

“No?”

She shrugged and walked out, letting Eagly out before her. Economos cussed angrily and ran after them, loading into the truck.

“This is gonna be so bad ass,” Adrian announced, placing his stuff into the back of the truck.

“Hey, can’t you call the Justice League or Batman or some shit?” Chris asked as he loaded into the back of the truck.

She climbed into the truck behind him. “That means calling Batman or my ex, and neither of those options are fun.”

“Wait, whose your ex?” Adrian asked, looking at her in surprise.

She made a face. “Flash.”

“No shit!” Economos laughed, looking at her in surprise.

“I heard he’s the fastest man alive —like, in every way,” Smith chimed in, touching his wrist like a watch was there then making a jacking off motion.

“That can’t be true —“ Economos started but she laughed.

“Oh, no. That’s actually super true.”

Adrian looked at her with surprise, “So like. I definitely last longer, right?”

“Gross dude,” Smith groaned.

“This is super important!” Adrian responded, hitting Smith in the arm and focusing his attention on her.

She nodded as she settled into her seat. “Believe me, you last way longer, pretty boy.”

“Fuck yeah I do!”

Adrian put his hand up, and they highfived, laughing as they did so.

From the front seat, Economos mumbled, “I can’t believe you chose Vigilante over the Flash.”

———

Series Masterlist

———

Taglist: @ladybug023 @pedropascalfanclub @se-fucking-hun @chelseaxteens @sannie-san-shine @notalxx @tubble-wubble @inmate-marmalade @fanofverymanythings @truly-abysmal @dallasvakarian @why-so-red @rexorangecouny @asherella-is-a-dork-3 @speedypeter @droopingdatura @maybememoriesx @mushroomsandcream @caswinchester2000 @alexloveskili @are-y0u-sirius @themartiansdaughter @sevenseasofcats

[merakiui]

A Leaf Swept up in an Autumnal Breeze

yandere!kaedehara kazuha x (gender neutral) reader art credit - Tourou_7 on twt cw: yandere, unhealthy/obsessive behaviors, slight nsfw implications/thoughts, alcohol consumption, intoxication, spoilers for kazuha’s character story + inazuma lore note - i decided to write something short for kazuha as i analyze what we know so far of his character. hopefully the characterization isn’t too off! please enjoy nonetheless! orz

The moonlight casts its thin rays upon the calm, motionless sea. In the distance, fish surface and their movements are captured in the ripples that expand in the water, a minor blip in the otherwise tranquil atmosphere of the dark night. As if a god has taken a brush to the sky, utilizing its inky vastness as a canvas, the stars have been drawn in small specks—winking down at those who sleep underneath a blanket of natural light.

And you are caught up in the glorious shimmer, grinning widely as Beidou wraps her arm around you, pulling you against her as if the two of you have known each other for years. In reality, it’s only been a few months since you were discovered on her ship: a hidden stowaway with your Vision clutched in your hands and raw resolve etched into your body in the form of bruises and old scars. You’re a fighter and yet you also ran from something. Kazuha can’t quite tell what it is you’ve escaped. Whether it’s another person, a group of people, or even an entire nation, he’s certain it’s worthy of the risks that come with fleeing.

Your Vision shines brightly, a stark contrast to the dark color scheme of your clothes. He tries to place a nation to your outfit and comes up empty, his thoughts returning to Inazuma as though it’s the only place he can think of. And he supposes that’s true. The situation in Inazuma has clouded his mind with its strange fog, taking up residence in the nooks and crannies of his brain. Though he can dwell upon the past and the mistakes that led up to the downfall of a precious friend, he knows there is no use for such somber reflections during a happy celebration. Life moves on, as the common saying goes, and he cannot allow himself to remain trapped in the past.

During moments such as these, where he relives the horrible memory in vivid detail, you are a sweet balm that soothes the sting of loss. Even when you’re struggling to stand, face hot from the intoxication of good drinks in even better company, you’re a wondrous presence who chases away his doubts and worries.

Unknowingly, you cast a temporary shroud over those matters and he’s put at ease the minute you extend your arm in his direction.

“Kazuha! Come over here. Let’s dance!”

A hiccup interrupts your jovial giggle and Beidou chuckles before throwing her head back to drink what’s left in her flask. The aura of her ship is beyond lively. Men and women alike celebrate another successful week with drinks, harrowing tales of past heroes, and broken ballads sang in drunken tones. He can’t help the smile that sprouts on his lips. You’re such an outgoing person, always wanting to include him in your daily activities. And though he politely declines whenever you offer him alcohol, he has wondered what the appeal could possibly be.

Perhaps it’s the idea of losing your sensibility for one night, ignoring all reason for the sake of spending pleasurable moments in the confines of a warm bed, wrapped snugly in a lover’s embrace. Such instances are lost to intoxicating pleasure—buried under a hazy recollection come morning. But you haven’t done that sort of thing. Kazuha would know. He listens in while you’re relaxing—while you’re bathing and going about life on the ship without a care in the world—and his head runs wild with all sorts of fantasies. Fantasies he never would have imagined had he not met you.

To think you were just a mere stowaway, a trespasser who had snuck onto the ship and hid in the darkest corner, obscured by crates and chests. And he had pulled those crates aside in search of a few ingredients and his eyes met yours and you held your finger to your lips—a silent urge to keep quiet—and his heart skipped a beat.

It was a special meeting between two, which will remain locked away in his heart for all of eternity. A memory he regards with warm fondness. After much negotiation and a disarming conversation, you were soon welcomed with open arms as Beidou practically offered you to join her crew. You had nowhere else to go—no one else to see or protect—and so you agreed. And Kazuha felt a relief he hasn’t felt in a while, the sort of emotion that stems from almost losing something important.

The pure relief that comes and goes once he realizes you’re a missing piece in the puzzle of his life.

“You’ll trip,” he warns, pushing off from the side of the ship and walking over to you and Beidou. “It wouldn’t be wise to dance in your inebriated state. Surely you’re aware of this, no?”

“I can hold my alcohol.” Your wavering glare doesn’t reach him. “Don’t... Don’t think otherwise or else I’ll—ah!”

The majority of Beidou’s weight burdens your shoulders and you nearly almost crumble.

“You—“ she searches for a means to steady herself— “worry too much,” the captain adds, nodding in agreement to an unspoken statement. “It’ll be okay! Live a little while you’re still young.”

Kazuha sighs and easily slips between the two of you, hooking his arm around Beidou’s waist as he guides her to a barrel. The scent of alcohol kisses the air, clinging to your clothes and breath like an oversaturated perfume. Once she’s sat down, now fully determined to get the last few drops from out of the flask, the rōnin turns to you. He’s caught by surprise when your hands grasp his, your eager expression stabbing his heart with a dozen pins. He’s rooted to the floorboards, unable to look away when your face is dangerously close to his.

“You heard the captain,” you tease in a slurred voice. “Live a little.”

And he does. Or he thinks he does. Having traveled with Beidou, this is the current life he’s come to know and appreciate. But is it truly living if he feels unfulfilled in the process? To find a means for bringing back the familiar glow in a lonely Vision. To secure peace of mind and put his rowdy thoughts to rest. To one day return to the nation he was forced to flee, with you in tow. Are all of these things necessary in order to fill the gaping void in his damaged heart? Kazuha wonders if you also came from Inazuma. Perhaps you wouldn’t be so surprised to see the scenery if he were to take you there. Not now, of course. Sometime in the future, if such a future holds a changed Inazuma.

“I’m going to warn you now,” he mumbles, his fingers ghosting over your waist, “I’m not what one would call a dancer of skillful grace.”

“I don’t think that’s true, dear Kazuha.”

He blinks once and then releases a short laugh at the endearing term. “If you say so.”

“Enough talk.” You huff and pull him into your chest and he feels as though he could stay locked in this position for millennia. “Dance with me before...” A stilted pause as you nearly forget your sentence. “Before I turn in for the night. That’s it.”

Or before you get sick, he thinks, not so cheerful about the inevitable mess. But he’ll tolerate it because you’ve tolerated him. You never pry into his past, nor do you force him to answer personal questions regarding Inazuma and the Raiden Shogun. If you ever notice the way he lingers near your quarters, you don’t say a word. And if you hear his subdued moans as his hand moves in time with a picturesque fantasy of your nude form pressed against his, you keep your mouth shut. You are everything he could ever want and like the very ideal the Raiden Shogun wishes to uphold he wants to pursue an eternity with you.

Your movements are far from the precision you normally have when moving about the ship and it’s a very odd dance. Yet you spin him and he follows your unusual lead like an animal with tunnel vision. For a taut moment, the background noise melts away into obscurity and the two of you are the only people in existence. He stares at your face the entire time, ignoring the way your sandals crush his feet or the instances where he unintentionally returns the gesture. It’s certainly an awkward sort of waltz, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And in this moment where no one else matters, he sees your radiance in the glow of the moon. You truly are worthy of the sun and the stars beyond and should you verbalize an outlandish wish of that nature he has no choice but to follow through.

Like a leaf swept up in an autumnal breeze, reminiscent of a ronin who lacks a place in the world, Kazuha allows himself to be carried on by the winds that rustle the sails and tangle through your hair, painting you in a backdrop that’s heaven handcrafted by the pickiest god. And where you have your wits, a lively Vision, and your confidence, he only has his blade, a dull Vision, and an inkling of hope. But that’s really all he requires.

[piecksz]

starstruck | (m)

pairings: rockstar!eren yeager x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, penetrative sex, fingering, creampie, roughness, drug use, explicit language

words: 4.4k+

summary: you and your friend decide to sneak backstage at your band’s favorite concert and the vip treatment you recieve is more than you bargained for.

inspired by 

a/n: you know the drill :p obey (with YUNGBLUD) by bring me the horizon it’s literally not a sexy song so don’t go in listening to it expectin to get horny LMAOO it’s just the kind of sound i imagined eren’s band to have, but it was sexy to me bc the image of rockstar eren tormented me the entire time i wrote this 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this. This is fucking crazy.” Your friend’s voice was a fidgety whisper behind you. Her face’s close proximity to the back of your neck had her heavy expiration fanning over your nape every time she opened her mouth to reprimand herself for allowing you to beguile her into illegal trespassing.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she whispered again, tugging the leather sleeve of your jacket with a pesky grip.

You shrugged her touch off of your arm and took a brief glimpse over your shoulder to offer her a sour look. “Can you be quiet? You freaking out is making us look suspicious.” You whisked your head back around, peering around the corner of the vacant merch tent.

“No, us creeping around to sneak onto a fucking tour bus is making us look suspicious,” she retorted.

The corner of your mouth tightened at your friend’s concern and you lifted your hand to give her a dismissive wave. You were astounded when she had originally agreed to your brazen proposal, although it took minutes of incessant pleading for her to actually give in. Her veiled reluctance surfaced the minute you two had separated from the concert’s crowd at the end of the show and snuck around the stage to the back of the venue. What began as her unease and quiet suggestions that maybe your idea wasn’t so smart, intensified into irritating nagging. You gave her the option to turn around and wait for you back at the car, but as your companion, she sighed and remarked that something so stupid couldn’t be done alone.

“I see it,” you said eagerly and with a proud grin. The vehicle was stationed a decent distance from where the two of you had been standing, but you measured the stretch with your eyes and figured that if you walked quickly enough, you’d be able to make it on without being caught.

“How do we even know they’re on it?” Your friend craned her head past yours to get a better view of what you saw.

“We don’t. I’m just guessing.”

“Oh great, that’s exactly the answer I wanted.” She released a tense and quiet laugh before retreating back behind the screen of the tent.

You surveyed the security guards as they patrolled back and forth along the premises, waiting until the coast was clear. Once you noticed an opening, you forcefully grabbed your friend’s wrist, ignoring her silent grunt of protest, and pulled her along. She stumbled into your stride and peered over at you, doing her best to follow your quick feet while mirroring your nonchalant guise.

Closer and closer, the two of you neared the tour bus until it had to have been only yards away. You tried to remain composed through your excitement, making sure you didn’t break your character. No fucking way your plan had actually gone off without a hitch, it almost seemed too easy.

“Hey!”

You kept walking. Maybe the exclamation wasn’t for you, but once the holler was thrown again, your body went rigid, and the tempo of your steps slowed until you stopped in your tracks. The adrenaline that commanded your legs had been substituted for lead and it kept your feet pinned to the ground. You couldn’t even run.

“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be back here.”

You blinked once, long and hard, before pivoting on your heel. You watched, mortified, as a burly security guard started in your direction and got closer until he loomed over you both with a threatening advantage in height.

He looked even angrier now that you could see the way his thick eyebrows creased together and created a ripple of lines above them that disappeared into a bald head. His hefty arms were crossed against his chest while he glowered down at you two, waiting to hear a story. You could tell your excuse wouldn’t matter though, it was obvious he wasn’t in the mood for jocular conversation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, we were looking for the bathroom,” you explained, clasping your hands together and feigning an apologetic smile. You turned your head from side to side, looking around innocently to sell your lie, and then looked back up at the guard with a nervous laugh. “And I guess it’s not here.”

Your friend shook her head and said nothing, but you were certain she was drawing up a creative speech in her head, wondering how she would tell you that she “told you so” this time.

“Nice try.” The guard curled his lip angrily. “Come on.” He reached out a thick hand and wrapped it around your bicep while grabbing the back of your friend’s shirt with a crude yank. Your eyes went wide at his hostile grip and you jerked your arm, trying to free yourself of his hold.

“Hey, whoa!” His grip only tightened. “We can walk ourselves!”

The guard forced you two forward, prompting you to walk so he could escort you off the grounds.

“What’s going on?”

You looked up and your writhing ceased. Instead, heat flushed your cheeks and you stood dazed. It didn’t take long before you recognized the owner of the voice because, naturally, you would have been able to recognize him from a mile away, but luckily you didn’t have to. He was right in front of you.

It was Eren, the lead singer and guitarist of the band you had been screaming your heart out to not even an hour ago. He was your favorite member, meaning you’d watched countless interviews and had several pictures of him saved on your phone, but nothing could have prepared you for what he looked like up close. His long brown hair looked like it was still damp with sweat, a sign of his showmanship on stage, and it framed his face in careless wisps and fell loosely past his shoulders. His torso was unclad, showing the dark inkings that adorned his biceps and stretched all the way up his shoulders until they met at the detailed design of wings in the middle of his chest. Dark ripped jeans sat loosely, just below his hips, and teased a peek at deep v-lines that ran underneath the top of his waistband.

You fought off the urge to drop to your knees and pray for how sinfully hot he looked.  

Trailing behind him were his bandmates, Armin and Jean, the band’s other guitarists, and Connie, the band’s drummer. You had never seen such an attractive circle of friends where you would have been satisfied taking any of them, and although you avowed to your friend that Connie was hers since she favored him, you absolutely would’ve allowed him to do whatever he wanted to you.

“Caught these two trying to sneak onto the tour bus.” The security guard thrusted you two ahead with an unsatisfied huff, and you shot him a glare.

Eren’s attention dropped from the security guard’s face and drifted over to your friend first before settling on you, eyes sweeping over your face and falling at half-mast. He arched an eyebrow then averted his gaze from your chest.

“It’s cool, let them go.”

“Are you sure?” The security guard’s grip on you loosened, and you pulled out of his hold the minute you felt him unhand you.

Eren shrugged. “Yeah. They can hang.” He quickly dismissed the security guard and casually sauntered past you before disappearing onto their bus.

You glanced over at your friend who looked like she was still in the process of trying to grasp the situation evolving in front of her.

“What kind of assholes turn away fans?” Jean teased, giving you a warm smile before he lifted his half-empty water bottle to his lips.

Connie switched his drum sticks to one hand and slipped them behind his back into his pocket.  “You guys are fans, right? You’re not trying to steal a couple of used water bottles to sell online are you?”

You took a lengthy pause and waited for your friend to answer, giving her an opportunity to converse with him, but she said nothing. She just rocked back and forth on her feet, staring at the ground timidly to avoid looking Connie in the eye.

“No,” you answered for her. “I mean yes, we’re fans. Big fans. No to trying to sell your DNA.”

Your response earned a chuckle from Armin and a hearty laugh from Connie while he nodded in approval. “Alright.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bus as though encouraging you two on.

You watched as the rest of the members filed inside, and then your friend seized your hand frantically.

“Holy shit. Y/N, holy shit!” She squealed, and you snorted at her sudden ability to talk once again. “You saw him right? You saw him.” It didn’t take much detail for you to gather that she was gushing about Connie.  

“Did you even see him? Your head was down the whole time, you didn’t say a single word to him.”

Your friend’s animated face slackened into a placid expression. “I didn’t trust myself. If I opened my mouth I would have asked him to put me in a headlock.” She exhaled. “Jesus Christ, those arms.” Your goading smile stretched into an amused grin, and you shook your head at your friend’s hysterical behavior.

The inside of the tour bus was much larger than you would have deduced from its seemingly modest exterior. Its floors were dark and polished wood that matched the ceiling, both surfaces lined with subdued yellow light. Aside from the sizable kitchen to your right, large leather couches sat on either side of the lounge area, and stretching to the bus’ rear were dimly lit bunk beds that were half-obscured by a dark curtain.

“Holy shit, this is a house on wheels,” your friend breathed, mouth agape.

“Well we’re on the road most of the time, so it might as well be,” Armin answered, throwing himself into one of the sofas with a labored sigh. He threw his head back in exhaustion and brought his arms up to rest against the top of the couch. “We never caught your names by the way.”

Both you and your friend introduced yourselves, forgoing a proper introduction from the band’s members. You evidently already knew who they were.

Armin smiled. “Nice to meet you guys.”

Jean shuffled through, handing you and your friend a water bottle, which you accepted with much appreciation. You hadn’t taken heed of how thirsty you’d been, and you hadn’t had anything to drink since the concert had started. Even while you swooned in the crowd between sweaty bodies, dehydration threatening to ruin your fun, you’d refused to pay $4 for a beverage.

“Make yourselves at home.” He threw another bottle to Armin.

“Oh no, we’re not planning on staying that long.” Your friend laughed, clutching onto her drink so tightly that the plastic squeaked in her grip.

You nudged her in the ribs with an assertive elbow and said her name quietly through clenched teeth, barely audible enough for the two of you to hear. She looked at you with uncertainty, and you gave her a forced grin.

“Don’t be rude. They said we should make ourselves at home.” You obliged to Jean’s invite, taking a seat in one of the leather cushions.

The situation you were in was a rare opportunity, the type of opportunity you’d only heard from other people, the type of opportunity you’d read fanfiction about in your early adolescence. If anyone told you that you’d be living such an opportunity, you weren’t sure if you’d really believe them, but had you declined to appease your friend’s irrational concern, you knew you’d regret it for years.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Connie leaned against the wall of the bus and wedged a rolled stick of paper between his pursed lips. He brought a hand-held lighter to the end of the stick, sparking it a few times with his thumb before a small flame engulfed the thin paper and thick smoke billowed from its tip. It only took a moment before the pungent, herbal stench of marijuana invaded the inside of the tour bus.

“Of course, you guys are amazing.” You nodded, perching yourself up in your seat and clapping your hands together excitedly. “We’ve been trying to see you guys in concert for a long time now.”

Eren fell into the seat beside you, and your body tensed up almost instantly. You’d managed to feign calmness from your first encounter because it had been easy to masquerade your nervousness from a distance, but now that he was even closer, surely he could have heard your heart palpitating against your ribcage. Its beating grew even quicker once Eren sat back and slid his arm behind you to lay it atop the backrest.

“Yeah?” His voice was languid. “What’s your favorite song?”

“That’s a hard question,” you chuckled, suddenly becoming very interested in the sleeves of your jacket. “I seriously don’t know if I can pick just one.” It hadn’t been a hard question at all, but you simply couldn’t think through the smell of his faded cologne and the feeling of his naked chest up against the side of your arm.

“That’s cool,” Eren smiled, but responded plainly. “You smoke?”

Your eyes drifted up to see Eren offering you a partially-burnt joint in between two fingers. He inhaled deeply from his hit and exhaled, a thick white cloud rolling past his lips.

You hadn’t smoked before, and you weren’t an avid consumer of weed. One edible at a party had you manic until your friends had to calm you down in a separate room and reassure you that you weren’t dying, but you still accepted it hesitantly. You brought it to your lips and took a deep draw before erupting into a fit of coughs.

“Easy,” Eren laughed, and his warm hand rubbed the nape of your neck soothingly. He took the joint from your hands and held it towards Armin.

Your chest and throat heaved with the searing sensation of a foreign substance, and your body racked with an incessant wheeze until it was sure it had expelled all of the stuff. Eren beside you thought it was the funniest thing.

“So you guys in college?” Connie asked, this time directing his question to your friend since you clearly couldn’t respond.

She nodded quickly, still avoiding making eye contact with him. He must have noticed and thought it was endearing because the corner of his mouth quirked upward into a knowing smirk.

“Sick,” Eren remarked. “I dropped out of college, but you guys should stay in school, seriously.”

“Don’t worry I have no plans to drop out and become a musician,” you rasped once your coughing subsided.

He paused for a moment and then looked at you. “What about a boyfriend?” His eyes drank you in from bottom to top until he met your clueless stare.

“Do I have a boyfriend?” You blinked, and then the tip of your ears went up in an uncomfortable heat that spread over the side of your face until your skin was aflame with realization. “No.”

“That’s good.” Eren studied you from behind heavy lids and he lingered on your lips, his own spreading into a suggestive grin. “So it’s cool if I do this?”

He leaned in and affixed his lips at the curve of where your jaw met your ear. His mouth was hot and the kiss was wet against your feverish skin. He planted another one lower, against the hollow dip where your neck curved, and then he bent the arm resting behind your head, using his hand to turn your face toward him so that when he tilted himself forward again, he could kiss you without interference. His lips were soft and slow as they commanded your mouth to follow his rhythm, and you withheld a desperate and excited whimper once Eren slipped a seductive tongue past your teeth.

He relaxed another hand on your leg, rubbing slow circles into the top of your thigh while edging closer and closer to the top of your waistband. Once his leisure fingers skimmed over your pants’ button, he skillfully undid the first hole before moving on to your zipper. You made a small sound of protest and pulled back in embarrassment.

“In front of your bandmates?” you questioned in a breathy whisper.

Eren shrugged, looking unfazed. “They don’t care. Nothing they haven’t seen before.”

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. He was a goddamn celebrity for crying out loud, had you really thought you were the first girl he brought onto the bus to fuck? And he’d done it in front of his bandmates? You shifted uncomfortably, looking to Armin, Jean, and Connie who were now occupied with showing your friend pictures they’d been sent from professional photographers after past shows.  

“I don’t know,” you admitted timidly.

Eren rolled his head to the side, visibly bothered by your response. He glanced over to his bandmates and swept through his locks with a lazy hand. “Hey, why don’t you guys go show her the stage set before they pack up?”

Your friend looked away from the laptop they were gathered around and over her shoulder. “But—.”

Eren’s fingers trailed up and down the side of your neck, clearly eager to resume your previous matters. Were you really about to pass up this chance?

You gave your friend a reassuring thumbs up alongside Eren’s suggestion. “I’ll come find you later.”

It almost seemed like Eren sent his bandmates an unspoken cue, because Connie quickly chimed in before your friend had another turn to object. “Yeah. It’s okay, we’ll take care of you.” He wrapped a tattooed arm around your friend’s shoulder and gave her a friendly shake.

You could almost see the rise and fall of her chest cease, and you actually grew worried for her. It looked like she had nearly died and came back to life, but her stunned face melted into a flustered smile and she laughed sheepishly. “Okay.”

Connie nodded and gave Eren a two finger salute before escorting your friend off the bus with Jean and Armin following closely behind.

Once the door to the bus closed Eren shifted his attention back to you.

“There. Problem solved.” His green eyes had darkened and clouded over with desire again. “You feel better?”

“I guess,” you murmured.

You didn’t get a second chance to speak because Eren’s lips coupled to yours once more, and his hands continued against your zipper before he slipped his fingers into your underwear. He brought two fingers to your slit, skimming lightly over the delicate skin before sliding his middle finger between your folds to part them.

You released a sharp gasp against Eren’s mouth as you felt the cold metal of his rings against your cunt, but he made no efforts to pull away. The earthy taste of marijuana on his tongue caused your head to swim and you began to feel the drug’s intoxicant effects yourself. Your limbs grew heavier as you lay slack against Eren’s body while the sensation of his soft strokes against your tender clit had you whimpering against his lips.

He dipped his finger down to your body’s orifice, sliding it into your hole to glaze the digit with your arousal.

“God, you’re so tight.” Eren’s voice was deep as he pulled away from your mouth and both of you looked down to watch the way he worked you. “I want you around my cock.”

Your hips jerked involuntarily against his hand with the mention of his desire, and he brought his touch back up to your clit, using your essence as lubrication. The bus was quiet except for the symphony of Eren’s husky pants and your lewd whines as he slowly quickened the pace when he felt your body begin to tremble against his.

“Fuck, Eren—,” you mewled. You hadn’t even given thought to how unusual his name sounded coming out of your mouth. Eren, the singer and lead guitarist of your favorite band had his fingers inside of your pants, and here you were moaning his name. “Oh fuck—.”

Your orgasm intensified quickly after its onset, you hadn’t even realized you were climaxing until your body was convulsing and your fingers were digging into Eren’s biceps.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—Eren—,” you cried.

“That’s it,” Eren cooed. “Atta girl.”

His fingers continued working against your clit until you wrapped a sweaty hand around his wrist, a silent plea for him to stop before he sent you into overstimulation.

He hummed in amusement and heeded your request before pulling his hands out of your underwear. Now he worked his hands against his own belt, unfastening the buckle before pushing his jeans down with his briefs in one swift and eager motion. His cock was half-hard and continued growing rigid after he took himself in his hand and began pumping his throbbing length.  

You watched in wonderment as his palm worked painfully slow against his thick shaft, and pearls of precum gathered at his tip before dribbling down his swollen head. Your own dirty fantasies where you’d tried to envision how big Eren was hardly did him justice.

You rose to your feet, kicking off your shoes with haste, and stepped out of your pants. You shrugged off your jacket as well, realizing how uncomfortably sticky your sweaty arms felt against the leather material.

“Come here,” Eren hummed, and released his cock. He held his hands out for you to take, and he pulled you onto his lap. He supported your waist until your knees were mounted on either side of his thighs, and you pulled your underwear to the side, allowing his pulsating tip to prod your entrance.

“You gonna show me how well you ride?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.

You nodded, resting your hands on his shoulders and undulating your wet folds against his cock. You released a desperate whimper every time he nudged your clit.

“Yeah? Show me.”

Eren watched as you slipped him in, and what started as a whine deepened into an obscene cry while you felt him stretch your walls out. You eased down until you sat at the base of his cock and he’d filled you to the hilt.

You dug your teeth into your lower lip, waiting to adjust to his girth before you slowly started moving up and down. Eren’s shallow breathing encouraged you while you lifted yourself up and then back down, each time releasing an agonizing sob.

“Good girl.” Eren’s large hands traveled up from your waist and rested on your chest. “Just like that.” He loosely cupped his hands over your clothed chest, adoring the way your quickening pace caused your breasts began to jounce underneath your shirt, but your ache to feel his touch everywhere along your skin became uncontrollable.

Your fingers curled around the hem of your top and you quickly slipped the material off, tossing it onto the couch beside you. You did the same with your bra, too impatient to fumble around with the pesky hooks.

Eren grinned lazily, before resting his palms against your breasts and giving them a small jiggle. He leaned forward, lolling his tongue out, and flicked its tip against the hardening bead of your nipple. He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and smiled at the way you murmured his name before rolling his thumb over the wet skin.

“So fucking hot,” Eren praised. He gave your other breast a brisk slap, watching it shake with the impact, and then he took you in his mouth. He sucked hungrily before taking your nipple between his teeth and tugged on it.

You continued bouncing on Eren’s cock before he released a guttural groan and threw his head back. “Fuck, don’t stop.” The tattoos along his sweaty chest expanded with each uneven breath. “I’m gonna cum.”

Eren’s hands traveled down to your ass, and black-painted nails dug into your skin while he directed you up and down. You rolled your hips against him until you felt his cock jerk inside you, and then he was filling you up.

Eren unloaded himself into you and your walls fluttered around his quivering length. His balls spasmed, making sure he’d jettisoned every drop of thick, white cum. He pulled his cock out before your knees gave way and you collapsed next to him. Your pussy clenched around nothing, still adjusting to Eren’s absence, and you felt his release leak out of your hole.

You heaved, eyes strung tightly, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You had to have been dreaming. You kept your eyes closed, fearing that you’d wake, but they fluttered open instinctively when you felt Eren’s weight lift from beside you.

“Where are you going?” You watched as he tugged his pants up and fastened his buckle before shuffling around the bus looking for something. Jesus Christ, just how much stamina did this guy have?

“Your friend’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long,” Eren replied, disappearing behind the curtain leading to the bedroom in the back of the bus.

Your hand flew to your forehead and you sat up, feeling guilty that you had completely forgotten your friend. Knowing her, she was probably worrying herself sick wondering what Eren had possibly done to you. You started retrieving your clothes and getting dressed, but you paused momentarily, calling out to wherever Eren had been on the bus.

“I should give you my number.” You stuck a leg into your pants. “You know, just to keep in touch.” You stuck your other leg in and hopped around, pulling your pants up.

Eren reappeared from behind the curtain, tugging on a fitted black t-shirt. “Don’t worry about that.”

You popped your head out from under your shirt and reached for your jacket. You laughed lightly and gave him a confused look.

“Safety and shit. We can’t give our personal information out to just anyone.” He gave you a pitiful smile, but you could tell it was more for you than for him.

“Oh,” you responded quietly.

Eren seemed unconcerned with the guidelines he was given, as though he didn’t care much about whether he even remembered your name once they were on the road again.

“Don’t look so sad babe. You’re lucky.” He tilted his head toward you and raised his eyebrows. “Not everyone gets to fuck a rockstar.”

[in-ky]

Hi! I’d love a story about Negan being a serial killer who only kills “bad people” (like in Dexter) and maybe he saves the reader from her ex who’s about to kill her and Negan can save her and takes her in because she’s a mess but she’s actually a killer herself (who kills rapists etc/ only the bad ones) and Negan and the reader start fighting and then get caught up in steamy hot sex 🥵 thank you!

Savior - Negan Killer AU

Warnings: Warnings: GORE + violence, smut, domestic abuse, swearing, dirty talk ig? idk how to tag this lol

A/N: hey! i struggled over this one for a while lol. ive only seen like. 3? episodes of dexter so. i really hope this meets your expectations! also forgive any mistakes its late, im tired, and i wanna get this up lol. also, is negan batman? maybe. 3.7k words

"Will, stop you're hurting me!" I hissed, grabbing at his wrist. He tugged me out of the bustling restaurant and into the dark street.

"I don't really give a shit," He snarled, throwing me into a secluded alleyway a few buildings down from the restaurant. Will had taken me out to a business dinner with his boss in hopes of showing me off and making a good impression. But things didn't quite go according to plan. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" He pushed me against the brick wall of the closed department store.

"What was I supposed to do?" I sneered, trying to wiggle away from him "He kept commenting on my body, saying how he wished he could take me home at the end of the night and do all kinds of 'unspeakable things to me'."

"You were just supposed to shut up and take it!" Will said, voice filled with rage "But no, you and your untamable fucking complex just couldn't handle a compliment. You threw your drink in his face! You're lucky he didn't fire me right then and there. You made me look like some pussy who can't control his whore."

"You're an asshole." I shouted, tears welling at the edges of my eyes. Will's face contorted further into a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He seethed, clasping his hand tightly around my throat and constricting his fingers around my airway.

"I said you're an asshole who cares more about his dead-end career than his fucking girlfriend." I croaked. I hated him. I hated him so much. My vision clouded with the combination of disgust, loathing, and lack of oxygen, so I hit him where I knew it hurt. "There's a reason you needed me for arm candy tonight. It's 'cause you're a boring, piece-of-shit, lowlife who has no skill whatsoever. How does it feel knowing you need me to make something of yourself?" With that, he threw me to the ground by my throat. He wasted no time and pinned me to the cold concrete. His knees dug into my shoulders and his hand flew to his back pocket, whipping out the switchblade he carried as a precaution against mugging. My eyes widened as they caught a glint of the moonlight off the sharp knife. He brought the blade up to my throat and slapped me over the cheek harshly with his free hand.

"You better take back those words, bitch," He hissed, pressing the blade into the soft skin of my jugular "or they might just be your last." A dribble of blood ran down my neck with the pressure. Realization flashed through my mind. I could die right then. That could have been my last moment. Was I scared? No. Why wasn't I scared? Maybe it had to do with the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching us from the ally entrance.

There was plenty of time for me to warn Will that someone was coming. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed quiet and watched as the shadow figure pulled Will from my body with ease and tossed him to the side. Everything was kind of a blur. I was still oxygen starved and filled with a whirl-wind of emotion. I heard Will cry out in surprise and indignance. The shadow figure said nothing. It saw the switchblade with a steady line of my blood. It kicked Will in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Then it lifted up a baseball bat over its head and cracked it down over Will's skull. He continued to beat Will until he stopped squirming. The shadow figure paused and swung the bat over his shoulder. I had regained my breath and pushed myself to my elbows. The shadow noticed me moving and took a few heavy steps in my direction. I squirmed away slightly, instincts telling me to get away from the thing that had just pulverized my boyfriend. The shadow entered a stream of moonlight. It was a man. He had peppered hair and a blood-speckled face. He had dark brown eyes and a small smile perched on his lips.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He said. His voice was deep. I was partially surprised. He wasn't a bulky man. He was tall and had a broad frame, but his limbs were long and his body was lithe. He wore a leather jacket and his boots were slick with what I could only assume were Will's brains. I didn't want to look at his bat.

"W-Why did you do that?" I whispered. It was all I could muster.

"He was going to kill you." The man sounded confused, like I was supposed to know who he was and why he saved me.

"You don't know that." My voice was quiet. My eyes were glued to a spot behind the man, unblinking. He let out a throaty chuckle and dropped to a squat, leveling with me.

"Doll, he had a knife pressed to your throat," His words were gentle "Looked like he was gonna fuckin' kill you." He hesitantly reached out two fingers in the direction of my face. I didn't move. He was wearing leather gloves. The ridged fabric ran along my injuries. "Seems like he did some damage before I could step in. Damn. Sorry about that. Listen, I live a few streets down. If you want, I can get you cleaned up."

"Okay," I said softly. I let him help me up to my feet. He guided me along with one arm while holding his bat with the other. As we walked out of the alley I couldn't help but look down at Will, or what remained of him at least. His forehead was split in half, a pool of chunky blood bubbling on the ground. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. And yet, I didn't feel sad. I didn't mourn him. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't. "Thank you?" I murmured, though it was more of a question. The man and I stepped out onto the street and I was grateful there was no one around to see us leaving the scene of a very heinous-looking crime.

"No problem, doll," The man hummed, setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "The name's Negan, by the way." Cool. Negan: my Savior.

~~~

"So you're like Batman?" I asked Negan as he dabbed the blood away from my neck. He gave a short chuckle and tore away the sticky part of the band-aid.

"I guess you can say that," he mused, splaying the bandage over the cut the knife had left "but I specifically go for people that I know have hurt others. The baddies, if you will."

"Is that legal?" I tilted my head, crossing my ankles as they dangled over the bathroom counter. My palms were flat on the surface of Negan's marble sink top, fiddling with the wrappers of the medical supplies he had used to clean and bandage my small cuts and bruises.

"I haven't been caught," Negan shrugged "besides, it's less work for the police. They don't have to do any interrogation bullshit or anything. I usually catch people in the act, like tonight. Then I do my thing."

"Do you kill everyone?"

"Only the bad people," He reminded, tossing away a bloody tissue "only people who have hurt others. But, yes, usually the offender ends up on the business end of Lucille over there." He pointed out the door into the living room, where the still-bloody bat rested against a chair. I furrowed my brow.

"Well, doesn't that make you a bad guy?" I pressed. He tapped my knee and I dropped down to the tile floor, tucking my hair behind my ear and gathering some of the scraps.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you still kill people, right? Even if they're bad? So doesn't that still make you a killer?" Negan was quiet for a minute. "Let's put it this way," I continued "What would you do if you came across someone who was like you; someone who hurt the bad people. Would you still kill them. They're hurting people." Negan took a deep breath and let it out with a contemplative sigh, itching his bearded chin.

"I'm not sure," He mused "I've never really thought about it before. See, I don't consider myself a bad person per say. Yea, what I'm doing might be considered fucked up. But I'm doing it for the right reason. I'm protecting people by attacking their attackers. In the end, someone's saved." He brushed off his hands and led me out of the bathroom, flicking the light off. "Would you rather me not have saved you tonight?"

"No," I said immediately "thank you. Really, thank you. You saved my life. Will is...was...always a dick, but I never thought he'd actually hurt me. I guess that proves people can have a whole bunch of layers." Negan nodded and moved to the kitchen. He raised a bottle of whiskey as an offering. I shook my head but he poured himself a glass.

"I was just doing my job," Negan grinned sympathetically "I'm sorry your boyfriend was an asshole who tried to murder you." I shrugged, amusement in my eyes.

"Eh, it happens to everyone." I smiled as he let out another laugh. I felt as if I shouldn't be laughing, but at the same time, everyone has their own responses to almost getting stabbed to death in an alley. So I let myself have this moment. Besides, Negan was a good guy to be around. He made me feel safe, comfortable, secure. Everything I needed right now. "So, Negan, what do you do? Surely vigilante-ing can't pay well, and this apartment is really nice."

"I'm a retired baseball player," Negan said, sipping his whiskey and settling into one of the armchairs in the living room "Hence the bat."

"Were you any good?" I asked. He let out a loud scoff.

"Was I any good?" He mocked "Sweetheart, I have a whole damn trophy room. I was fucking amazing. I just got old."

"So you're rich with no real job, you kill bad guys, and you have a massive ego," I listed "You really are like Batman, aren't you?"

~~~

Negan let me stay on his couch that night. It was leather, like everything else that man seemed to own, but it was comfortable. I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the air. I groaned and rubbed my fists against my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I stretched my arms above my head in a yawn and rolled off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen. Negan was hunched over the bubbling pan, dodging pellets of grease as they shot up at him.

"Smells good!" I purred, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.

"Good," He grumbled "You better fucking enjoy it because I've gotten burned at least three times." I laughed and walked up to him examining the small red patches that dotted his arms.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast you know."

"Yea, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," He sighed, turning off the stove and scooping the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. "Besides, I was craving some bacon when I woke up. I haven't had someone to share a meal with in a while."

"Well, if you want, you can come by my house for dinner." I offered, crunching down on a piece of bacon "I've been meaning to whip out the family alfredo recipe for a while, maybe a hot date would give me that incentive." I gave him a playful wink and he chuckled.

"Sure thing, doll," He hummed, putting the pan in the sink "I love me some fucking spaghetti. I'll see you around seven?"

"Sounds good."

~~~

I ran down the sidewalk, chest heaving. There was enough darkness to cover me, but I still kept my head down to prevent recognition. I held my hands close to my stomach, praying that the blood on my fingers wouldn't drip on the pavement and leave a trail. I had been on my way home from the store when I heard some commotion coming from an alley. My first instinct was to run, but then I heard the girl crying for help. Negan came to mind, what he did, how he helped people. I couldn't turn away. I marched down the alley and saw a greasy man pinning a woman to the wall of a building. Flashbacks of the night before hit me like a train. I looked on top of the alley dumpster  and saw a crowbar perched on one of the lids. I grabbed it and stormed up to the man, whacking him upside the head with the weapon. I kicked him to the side and brought the crowbar over my head before swinging it down. It connected with his face in a sickening 'thwack.' I thought of Will. I thought of what might of happened if Negan had never stopped him. I thought of all the times that bastard had gotten drunk and told me I was nothing. I let the rage bubble up and fuel my beating. By the time I was pulled back into the moment, my muscles were screaming, the woman was gone, and the man's face was unrecognizable. I tossed the crowbar into the dumpster and ran back home.

Dried blood is extremely hard to wash off. It sticks to your skin in flakes, creating a pattern of red veins crawling over your hands. Fuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could under the rushing water of the sink, pumping more and more soap into my hand. It was under my fingernails. It was stuck in my palm prints. Shit, did I leave fingerprints at the scene? Would they be coming for me? With a hiss, I rubbed even harder at my skin, small flecks of blood turning the sink water red.

Suddenly, my door opened.

"I'm ready for my s'getties!" Negan boomed with a wide smile. My head whipped around, looking at him with wide eyes. His grin faded and he crossed the room in record time, grabbing my wrists and turning the sink off. "Is this fucking blood?" He snarled, bringing my hands up to my face. I clenched my jaw and dropped my eyes to my feet. "Jesus, who's is it? Answer me!"

"I-I heard someone screaming on the way home," I said quietly, eyes still downcast "I thought I would help..." His jaw went slack and he let go of my hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jesus fuck, you can't just go around killing people!"

"Why not?" I snapped, eyes meeting his "You do it all the time? What's the difference? Why can't I help people?"

"Because it...Because you just can't!" Negan growled, shaking his head.

"Why are you so special?" I hissed back, drying my hands off on a towel before tossing it at him "It's not like you can get a permit for fucking murder. Why do you do it, anyways? Is it some perverted thing? Do you get off on saving people from attackers?"

"Watch yourself." Negan warned, eyes darkening.

"Pfft, or what?" I laughed, tossing my head back "What are you gonna do, kill me? I'm not afraid of you, Negan." As soon as the words left my mouth, he charged me. His hand flew to my throat, squeezing my airway lightly. His hips pressed me against the counter. I let out a small gasp when he shoved his face next to mine.

"Oh, but doll, you really fucking should be." He spat, curling his lip "I could snap your neck right here, right now." He gave a small squeeze to emphasize his words. I let out a strangled moan. We both froze. "Are you turned on right now?" He muttered, furrowing his brow. I licked my lips and squirmed in his grip, pressing my thighs together slightly in an effort to alleviate the warm pressure growing in my belly.

"No," I lied, voice weak. A sinister grin curled over the bottom half of his face and he licked his tongue over his teeth.

"And I'm the perv, huh?" He sucked on my earlobe and peppered kisses down my jawline "Sweetheart, tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours? Do you want me to make you cum harder than you ever have?" I whimpered at his dirty mouth. "Use your words, doll, or I'll leave right fucking now."

"Y-Yes!" I breathed as Negan's lips sucked on the sweet spot right beneath my ear.

"Yes, what, princess?"

"Yes, I want you to fuck me, please!" I groaned, clawing at his shirt. He let out a short chuckle, muttering something about how needy I was, but I didn't care. Right now, the only thought running through my head was that I needed Negan. I needed all of him. And damn me if I wasn't going to get it.

We clawed at each other's clothes like rabid animals. Once we were completely bare, Negan moved his kisses down my body. His large, calloused hands kneaded my breasts, twisting my nipples between his thumbs. My arms flew around his neck and I dragged my fingernails up his back. He shivered against my touch and slid his hands further down my body. They settled firmly on my hips as he captured my lips in a fervent kiss.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunted, pulling back for air. I looked at him. His tawny eyes were now black, pupils far beyond dilated with lust. Both of our lips were swollen and red from the intensity of our kisses. Negan's chest inflated and deflated quickly as his eyes roamed over my body. "You're so damn perfect." I smiled sheepishly and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking up at him through lidded eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reached out my hand and used my pointer finger to draw a line from his collar bone down the center of his chest and through his navel, finally ending right over his pulsing cock. He sucked in a breath as my fingers closed around him. My thumb swept over the hot tip, gathering precum on the pad of my finger and rubbing it around.

"Shit," He hissed as I slowly pumped him "I'm not gonna fucking last if you keep doing that." He gently pried my hand away and took a step closer to me. I could feel his hardened length resting against the inside of my thigh. The thought of him being so close made a burst of heat rush down between my thighs. Negan took a long finger and ran it through my folds, collecting my wetness. I moaned as he teasingly dipped the first knuckle into me. He pulled back and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl," he chuckled, raising his finger to my face "You're fucking dripping. Who's that for?" His slick-coated fingers glistened in the light of my apartment. I let out a deep groan as he slid them between his lips and sucked.

"You, Negan!" I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist "It's all for you." A wolfish grin spread over his features as he tugged me off him and pulled me down off the counter. He spun me around and pressed gently between my shoulder blades until my chest was flat against the cold surface.

"Then if you don't mind," Negan cooed, lining himself up with my entrance "I'm going to take what belongs to me." With that, he slowly pushed into me. I gasped at the stretch, balling my hands into fists as he continued to split me open.

"Fucking shit," he groaned once he bottomed out "you're tight as hell. I bet you've never had a dick as big as mine." He pulled out slightly and I let out a moan at the growing emptiness inside. The moan soon turned to a yelp when he brought down his hand against my ass. The smack was loud and he rubbed the red spot tenderly. "Have you?"

"N-No!" I gasped when he thrusted into me for the first time "Never. Fuck, you feel so good." Negan's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping against my ass in an obscene rhythm. Grunts and moans of pleasure slipped from both of our lips as he plowed unapologetically into me. I could feel every inch of him. He was hitting every spot, dragging against my walls in a sinfully perfect way.

"You're doing so good," He purred, kissing and biting my shoulder "So good for me. You're so perfect." I tossed my head back and he grabbed my chin, tilting my face towards him so he could give me another bruising kiss. I could only keep up for so long, though, and the white bliss of pleasure he was giving me soon became overwhelming. My jaw went slack and my head dropped against the cool tile of the counter in an attempt to ground myself in the moment. "I want you to cum, doll, cum around me. Wanna feel those walls squeeze me." His thrusts were starting to become sloppy and I could tell he was getting to his end. One of his fingers danced down my spine and found its way to my clit. He circled it with just enough pressure to get me to the edge that I was so willing to jump off. "Now." Negan growled. I obeyed, feeling the band in my lower abdomen snapping violently. We reached our releases simultaneously. My walls clenched around him, milking him of every drop. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed his name, holding in a large breath as the world around me spun. Negan eventually pulled himself out and collapsed on top of me. We both were breathing heavily, sweaty bodies entangled as well as we could over a counter. I swallowed, my throat dry from panting through my orgasm. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see Negan's thumb tracing circles over the love bites that were starting to darken on my shoulders.

"Are you going to kill me?" I rasped, running a hand through my wild hair "I guess I'm a bad person now." Negan chuckled, still out of breath.

"I think I'll make an exception," He mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of my ear "I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet."

[theplaid-wearingmoose]

Helpless~Geralt x Reader fluff~

Okay so I know I’ve already done a song-fic for Geralt but this idea has been in my head for a bit and I like it so I wanna do it. Messing with canon a bit, replacing Syanna with Y/N. Threw some cute, charming Geralt in there cause I don’t see it often enough. Based on “Helpless” from Hamilton.

Your name: submit What is this?

The Grand Ballroom was decorated elegantly for the festivities. Barrels of the finest wine in Beauclair were brought in, mountains of food laid on the tables, music and laughter filled the air as the people of Toussaint celebrated the birthday of Princess Anna Henrietta. The feast was loud and merry and the two sisters were having the time of their lives. Being the birthday girl, Anarietta was whisked from table to table, greeting her guests. Princess Y/N, on the other hand, was mostly free to celebrate as she wished. Until a certain guest catches her eye.

You moved about the ballroom, sipping wine and enjoying the music. You had been able to keep out of the spotlight for the most part, as most of the focus was on your sister. You watched with a grin as she charmed the men around her, each wanting their turn at a dance. She had such a way of catching people’s attention and winning their affection. You giggled to yourself as you watched them follow her like lost puppies. You turned your head towards the door as you heard a shout of “Geralt of Rivia! The mighty witcher!”

Laughing at my sister as she’s dazzlin’ the room

Then you walked in and my heart went boom

You stopped in your tracks, your goblet of wine paused halfway to your lips. You felt warmth spread to your cheeks as you took in the sight of him. Tall, broad shouldered, muscular, incredibly handsome. The wolf head medallion around his neck gleamed as it was hit by candlelight. You watched him as he conversed with the man who had called to him, his smile making your knees weak. You hardly noticed the bard beside him trying to make his way towards your sister. You had to get his attention somehow. But he’s so handsome.. You thought to yourself. You cursed your sudden shyness. You’re a princess! You can get his attention whenever you want! You shook your head, focusing back on your goal. You quickly found Anarietta and dragged her away from the witcher’s bard, who had somehow managed to get her alone.

Tryin' to catch your eye from the side of the ballroom Everybody's dancin' and the band's top volume Grind to the rhythm as we wine and dine Grab my sister and whisper "Yo, this one's mine"

“Ana...help me.” You begged her, helplessly. She grinned when you finished explaining and took your hands in hers. “Don’t worry, dear sister.” She said before squeezing your hands gently and sweeping away gracefully towards the Witcher. You felt your stomach twist with nerves as you watched her chat with him, laughing and laying on her signature charm.

My sister made her way across the room to you And I got nervous thinking "What's she gonna do?" She grabs you by the arm I'm thinkin', "I'm through"

Anarietta nodded her head in your direction and felt your face grow warm again as Geralt turned to look at you.

Then you look back at me and suddenly

I’m helpless

Your heart fluttered in your chest as he looked at you. A small smile formed on his face as you gazed at him.

Oh, look at those eyes

His eyes were so beautifully golden. They stared deep into yours and you felt somewhat hot as Ana led him over to where you were standing. His bard must’ve been watching as well because he hurried over as soon as he noticed them moving. Ana smiled warmly as she and Geralt reached you. “Geralt of Rivia, may I present Princess Y/N. My sister.” Geralt extended his hand towards you and brought yours gently to his lips, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Geralt.” You spoke, shocked you were able to keep yourself from sighing dreamily at his touch. “The honor is mine, Princess.” He replied. His gruff voice had your head spinning. “Father invited Geralt as a “thank you” for taking care of some vampires nearby.” Anarietta told you, gently nudging you closer to Geralt.

“Thank you for all of your service.” You spoke, breathlessly. Geralt still held your hand in his, close to his lips. “If it takes beheading a village-worth of vampires for us to meet, it will have been worth it.” Geralt replies, smiling gently at you. Your heart thudded against your chest. You were almost certain he could hear it. Your sister’s voice broke you out of your near trance. “I’ll leave you to it. Come, Julian. I have something I think you’ll be interested in.”

Anarietta led the bard away, leaving you and Geralt alone. Geralt’s eyes turned back to you, another gentle smile forming on his face. “Would you care to dance, Princess?” He asked, his deep voice rumbling in your ears. “Yes, I’d love to, Geralt.” He offered you his arm and led you onto the dance floor. His hand came to rest on your waist, pulling you close to him. His other hand held yours softly, as if he were afraid he’d crush it if he held it too hard. You let him lead you in circles around the floor, spinning and waltzing to the music. You kept your eyes on each other, never looking away.

Look into your eyes and the sky’s the limit

I’m helpless

The room around you melted. There was no one else but you and him. His golden eyes stared into yours, keeping you transfixed on his face. Finding your voice, you smiled at him and spoke. “You’re quite the dancer, Geralt. I didn’t expect a witcher to be so graceful.” Geralt hummed out a small laugh. “We have to be light on our feet. Helps with stealth.” “And do they teach ballroom dancing at the School of the Wolf?” You teased nodding towards his medallion. Geralt chuckled and twirled you around him. “Only on the off chance we get invited to royal parties and have the opportunity to dance with a beautiful princess.” He replied, pulling you back against him. Your cheeks warmed at his flattery. He seemed to be the very opposite of everything you’d heard about witchers. He wasn’t rough or rude, he hadn’t made you feel uneasy. On the contrary, you felt very safe and secure with him. His eyes were warm and gentle, instead of cold and menacing as others had made them out to be.

Geralt dipped you as the song ended, causing you to giggle. You absolutely did not want your time with him to end. You glanced around the room to see if anyone would notice you. Luckily, everyone was preoccupied with drinking or other activities. “Would you accompany me on a walk, Geralt?” You asked him. He nodded and offered you his arm again. “Of course, Princess. Can’t let you walk around alone, it wouldn’t be safe.” You giggled again and led Geralt out towards the gardens.

The night air was filled with the scent of flowers and the grapes that grew on the vines that surrounded you. The music and laughter from the hall drifted off as you and Geralt strolled through the grounds, talking and enjoying your surroundings. The moonlight reflected off the river and you stopped on a small bridge, watching little lanterns float in the water beneath you. The small flames in them reflected in Geralt’s eyes, making them glow brighter than before. You smiled as you admired his face. He pretended not to notice and leaned forward, resting on the railing. “You live in a truly beautiful place, Princess.” He said after a few minutes of silence. “It’s a shame I have to leave.” He continued, a hint of sadness in his voice.  You bit your lip, hesitant to say anything. “....you could stay, Geralt.” You said, quietly. He sighed and turned to you. You hoped the look on his face wasn’t sympathy for you, begging some man you just met to stay with you. “You don’t want to attach yourself to a man like me, Princess. I could not give you what a princess deserves. Witchers aren’t fit for this sort of life. Or a good romantic partner for royalty.” “You are unlike anyone I’ve ever met, Geralt. But who you are matters more to me than what you are.”

Geralt hesitated at that. He was accustomed to people judging him. One minute they were begging for his help, then they were throwing him his coin and turning away from him in disgust the next. To have someone like you, a princess no less, look at him the way no one else had and see not just some murderous monster, but a man, was more than Geralt could’ve ever dared to dream of.

Before he could stop himself, Geralt leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to yours. Your gasp of surprise quickly turned into a dreamy sigh. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. His scent mixed with the smell of fruity wine intoxicated you. The sensation of his kiss was dizzying, making your head spin. His lips were soft and his touch was so gentle. Your hands came to rest on his broad chest. He groaned softly into your mouth at your touch.

You could’ve stayed like that forever. Geralt, however, seemed to remember himself and pulled away. He sighed and turned away from you. “I’m sorry, Princess. I should not have done that.” You bit your lip, hesitantly. You placed your hand on his cheek and turned his face to yours. You leaned forward and kissed him more intensely. It was Geralt’s turn to be surprised. Knowing that you wanted him as much as he wanted you caused him to be a little rougher with you. He cradled your face in his hands, holding you to him. You felt so light you were sure you could fly.

When the two of you broke apart to breathe, Geralt let out a soft laugh. “We should be more careful, Princess. Wouldn’t want to get too carried away out here and get caught by your sister.” You smirked and glanced behind him. “She won’t say anything if she knows what’s good for her. It seems my sister has her own little secret as well.” You replied, nodding behind him. Geralt looked over his shoulder and chuckled. Across the water was Anarietta, locked in a very intimate embrace with the bard. Geralt turned back to you, grinning. “Looks like Jaskier and I might have to stay here after all. I don’t think the people of Toussaint would be too thrilled if we broke the hearts of their beloved princesses.” You giggled and took Geralt’s arm, walking him deeper through the gardens. “Definitely not. But, I’m sure we can find a place for you and your bard.” “This is a good place for a witcher to retire. We don’t often get to do so.” Geralt admitted. You stopped and looked at him. “Well, it could do with some fixing up but I think Corvo Bianco would be a good fit for you, Master Witcher. It’s not far from the palace either. I’d like to see you when you are ready for visitors.” you added with a wink. Geralt took your hand in his and brought it to his lips once more.

“I look forward to it very much, Princess.”

Helpless

[djarinsbeskar]

PREQUEL ARC: PART 3 - THE BOUNTY

A/N: Part 3 of Stitches has arrived! This chapter was difficult to write, I'll be honest. And I'd really appreciate any feedback if it doesn't read as well as the first two chapters or doesn't make sense or is boring etc. etc.

This is the penultimate prologue chapter, with the story very much shifting to surround the dynamic and growth of the readers relationship with Din so if you can hold out for me just a bit longer, I promise, I'll make it worth the wait. You know what I'm talking about friends.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: None

Summary: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

9 ABY, on the Hydian Way.

Din prided himself on the strength of his principles. An unwavering certainty in everything he did that gave him a modicum of peace as he wandered throughout the galaxy amidst wars, rebellions and the chaos that ensued in their aftermath.

He was certain when he took the Creed, when he sacrificed a future for himself in service of the covert; something he had never regretted to this day. He had never regretted any bounty taken; unmoved by pleas, promises or threats. Neither tears nor anger could sway his resolve.

Truly, he could count on one hand the things he regretted in life; the job on Alzoc III, challenging a fully grown Mandalorian to a fight while still a hot blooded, angry teenager, and not trying to pull his parents into the bunker where they had hidden him from Separatist droids as Aq Vertina was invaded.

In his line of work, there was seldom room for self-doubt. Inner conflict led to hesitation, which could be a death sentence for a bounty hunter.

And yet, as he came out of hyperspace, that unfamiliar gnawing presence in the pit of his stomach began to rear its’ head again. The job he had accepted was… dubious, to say the least.

Din snorted in self-deprecation; most of his jobs were dubious in nature.

What brought on this unnatural doubt, however, was that this was a job for Imperial remnants. Din wasn’t a fool; he knew half the jobs he had taken in the past could have been traced to the Imps if he cared enough to look, but taking a job from them personally… well, he didn’t know how to feel about that just yet.

He pondered the feeling in his stomach again and frowned. Was it doubt… or instinct? Instinct was his most trusted companion as he travelled through space alone. A tickle at the back of his neck, a wary step forward, even a flash of electricity down his spine; those were only some of the ways that instinct spoke to him. And he always listened.

An uncomfortable feeling in his stomach though? Never that.

If it was instinct, then he was going against his very nature in ignoring it. If it was doubt, based on some misguided sense of morality in dealing with the empire… that he could deal with. He could smother doubt with control and consistency; going through the motions of a job brought security and familiarity. Sooner or later, that doubt would make way for a stoic acceptance, a state that had gotten Din through some of his roughest years.

His eyes were drawn to his shoulder, where the glint of newly crafted beskar shone in the gentle lights of the cockpit.

A down-payment…

“Makers Helmet…” he groaned, running a gloved thumb and forefinger across his tired eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on as the pressure at the back of his skull increased due to the loop his thoughts were going in.

A job was a job. He circled back to his original thought that had led him to accept the clients offer. A job with a bounty greater than anything he could have ever hoped to receive in his lifetime, let alone in one go. It was mere sentimentality and conscience getting in the way of good business. That beskar could not only provide him with armor to reaffirm his loyalty to the covert, but assistance and support to the foundlings and those who raised them.

His resolved steeled. He had never regretted putting the covert before himself, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Turning his attention back to the navicomputer, he scanned the co-ordinates that his most recent lead had pointed to. He had hunted the trail of his latest bounty to the general direction of a vast area of space that straddled the outer reaches of the Outer Rim and halted as it reached Wild Space. There was nothing to stop the bounty from being in those unexplored parts of the galaxy, and if the tracking beacon led him that far, he would have to be ready. With no spaceport on any of the planets he had seen dotting the area on the navicomputer, he thought it wise to refuel and gather provisions should he be there for any prolonged period.

As he lazily assessed which planet to land on, his eyes were drawn to a familiar name. A memory brushed against his thoughts. Not necessarily a pleasant one, but not entirely unpleasant either. For the sake of fairness, Din scanned the planets surrounding the one he pondered; some were equally as well equipped for his needs but the majority he had not been on in years if ever. Somewhere he knew, even briefly, gave him more comfort than the unknown.

At least, that was what Din told himself as he punched in the co-ordinates of Dandoran, the flicker of warmth the memory brought him was something equally as unnatural as the doubt coiled in his stomach.

Bantha balls, maybe he had been poisoned again...

Din tossed a few credits to the human female who received the Razor Crest into the hanger she was managing.

“She needs to be refueled.” Was all he said as he made his way out of the hanger and into the not unfamiliar streets of Mynock. It didn’t look like much had changed in the several months since he was here last; the place was still crawling with a mixture of criminals, bounty hunters and people who just didn’t want to be found. All in all, a good example of most Outer Rim cities.

Mynock had two main pedestrian streets that ran for over two klicks and intersected at the middle. From what he could tell, all legitimate business ran from those two streets, the further into the alleyways and twisted lanes that branched off those two streets one ventured, the seedier the business.

From what he knew, the practice you worked at was on one of these main streets. He paused, causing a few disgruntled pedestrians to have to jerk to a halt and make their way around his imposing frame. He was not here socially. He was never anywhere socially. He shook his head; between self-doubt and sentimentality, the tight leash he usually kept himself on was looser than he remembered and he had no idea just when it had started to slack.

That could not continue. But being aware of a problem allowed him to deal with it. So, with a greater sense of fortitude, he mentally choked any distracting feelings beyond the determination to collect this bounty. That included the somewhat interesting possibility of seeing you again.

Thankfully, Din only needed to stick to the main streets. The road was flanked by stall upon stall of foodstuffs, clothing, trinkets, ammunition and what looked to be a husbandry of Massiff dogs. The large, reflective eyes turned to the Mandalorian; all bared fangs and hostile snarls. An understandable response by most non-sentients when a Mandalorian had no real physical cues they could read, being as covered as they were. Until he lifted his hand for the one closest to sniff, they could only assume he was a threat.

A sniff was usually all it took however, before the snarling stopped. Din brushed a hand over the scaly head as he continued on his way to collect what he came here for.

An hour later, and Din was feeling much more at ease as he picked up the last of the supplies he thought he may need; ration packs, bactapads, generic ammunition that he liked to keep well stocked on the ship and so on. He was once more mentally compiling the information he had gathered on the location of the bounty, running through various routes in his mind that would cover the most planets in the parsec in the shortest amount of time.

He nodded his thanks at the change the Rhodian merchant returned to him and began to make his way back to the Razor Crest. If it hadn’t been for the long flick of your hair in the tie you kept it up in when you turned your head to look at someone at a stall across the central walkway of the street, Din was certain he’d have walked on none the wiser. But alas, that same higher power that had gifted him with a keep perception of his surroundings cursed him in the same fell swoop as the movement attracted his attention.

He came up short, running a mental check on himself immediately. No, no injuries. His shoulder still ached on occasion from being dislocated six months earlier, but it was a phantom pain at most these days. He was fit as a mythosaur and he wasn’t about to have that good streak ruined by getting injured in your presence… again.

Din wondered if he could escape to his ship without you noticing; he didn’t want to tempt fate anymore than he already had. Plus, awkward interactions that left him feeling frustrated both mentally and physically were not high on the list of things he enjoyed, thank you very much.

As a Mandalorian, Din expected attention wherever he went. It was just something he chalked down to being a necessary evil to live by his Creed but he had never wanted to be more invisible than he did in that moment, thinking that at any moment he would be trip into a sarlacc pit or something equally unpleasant.

But you hadn’t seen him, thankfully; much more invested in the choices at the fishmonger’s stall.

Despite his better judgement however, he paused from slipping back to his ship silently.

He was taken by the slight pink flush that rose to your cheeks at something the woman behind the stall said, intrigued by the color and what caused it. Din tilted his head slightly. He had noticed you getting flushed in frustration or annoyance both times you had treated him. It was fascinating to see your cheeks flush for a reason other than irritation and anger.

That particular thought touched a dangerous part of Din’s mind, a part that made him wander into the realm of curiosity to ponder what else might make you blush like that.

Oh, but it was a delightful color on you, and he watched longer than he ought to, a small quirk lifting the corner of his lips. The image of domesticity as you adjusted the parcels of food already in your arms to accept the fish was so foreign to his eyes and certainly not one he ever associated with you until now. It spoke to a part of him that still slumbered but began to fidget in its sleep, on the verge of consciousness.

That tentative smile that he had unwittingly been giving into as he indulged his senses by watching you, dropped the moment three males approached you. The Twi’lek was standing too close for you to be comfortable and by the rigidity of your spine, he knew you were not.

You had taken a step away from the men easily, your body language read cautious but not fearful and he knew better than to underestimate your abilities to wrangle men into whatever position you wanted them in. He had first-hand experience in that department and honestly, it wasn’t nearly as fun as it sounded in his head.

Din relaxed the grip he had unknowingly tightened on the blaster at his hip when you made to leave the stall, away from the three. He shook his head at himself; you had lived here for years. You knew how to handle yourself perfectly fine.

Letting out a breath, he was about to continue back to the ship when that same cursed perception caught the Twi’leks arm shoot out to grip your upper arm tightly, preventing your exit.

Din was behind you before he even realized he had moved.

You examined the range of fish on offer, eyes skeptically crossing off anything that looked like it had been sitting out too long or anything with more than four eyes. You weren’t squeamish by nature, but the fewer dead eyes that were staring at you while you prepared dinner, the better.

One of the few perks of Mynock, was its proximity to the Great Basin of Dandoran that opened out to one of the many oceans to cover the planet. Fresh seafood was a staple in the city and after years of ration packs between the Rebellion and Klatooine, eating fresh was a luxury you would never take for granted again. Your own home planet was mostly covered in water too; the greater population spread over countless clusters of islands where seafood was also the meal of choice for most. It was a tenuous connection but being able to cook dishes somewhat like the ones your mother made when you and your brothers were younger made it feel like you weren’t so far away.

You smiled to yourself at the thought as you pointed to the light blue colored Berbersian crabs, knowing the trawlers had come in only this morning that carried them. The claws were meaty with the slightest sweetness to their flavor that complimented most dishes. Not to mention that when cooked, they turned the most vibrant blue that their shells alone could be used for decoration and craft.

You chatted aimlessly with the fishmonger as she cleaned and prepared the translucent peachy pink fish you had also chosen for good measure.

“Busy at Biran’s?”

“When are we not busy?”

“It’s all them fights between the gangs. Folk say since the Hutts were chased out that things are better but it’s even more dangerous with the others tryin’ to take their place.”

You only gave a non-committal hum to that; you didn’t get involved in politics of any kind. Gang or otherwise.

The mindless chatter continued on nonetheless to more safe topics.

“Did I tell ye, Drea had her baby not three days ago. Another girl.”

“Poor Nej will have his hands full when they all get older.”

“I’m sure they’re dying for a boy at this point. Great excuse to keep sowin’ the crops though, ain’t it?”

“I’m sure they don’t need any excu—”

“Ever think of havin’ any of yer own? Yer well into that time of yer life, I’d say no?”

You blinked, nearly missing the bag of produce as she handed it across the stall to you. You could feel your face heat up at the direction this conversation had turned, and you definitely never thought you would be discussing your biological clock with a fishmonger over Berbersian crab.

“Well I---”

Movement from the corner of your eye stole your attention from that progressively awkward conversation and the no doubt insufficient answer you would have given as three males came to stand at the same stall, facing you. Your eyes scanned the trio sideways, not prepared to give them your attention unless it became unavoidable. There were two humans and a Twi’lek and given the way the humans flanked the large blue male; you had a fair idea about who was in charge as he sneered at you in what you assumed was meant to be a disarming smile.

The blasters at each of their hips and the emerald green coloring on the right sleeve of their jackets told you they belonged to one of the gangs the fishmonger had been complaining about not a few minutes earlier. This gang in particular, the Quai-Kisu or Emerald Dagger in Basic, were a faction that splintered off from the main Hutt crime syndicate once their influence in Dandoran lessened. Their trademark was spice smuggling but anyone with two braincells knew that they accepted the lesser charge to hide the true wealth of their criminal activity, flesh trafficking.

Suffice to say, you didn’t want anything to do with them and you most certainly didn’t want them to want anything to do with you.

“Can I help you?” You kept your eyes on them as you handed the fishmonger what you owed her when it was clear they weren’t going to leave; the woman wisely remaining quiet as she accepted the credits.

None of them responded immediately, and you wondered if this was a new scare tactic they were employing to make people anxious. The crimson hue of the Twi’leks eyes glinted as he contemplated you, running down your figure lazily before meeting your eyes again when you frowned,

“Ol’ man Biran available for a house call?” He rumbled, the sun catching the points of the filed canines as he spoke.

“I’m afraid Biran doesn’t make house calls anymore. Besides, he’s been under the weather for the last few days unfortunately.”

You reeled the lie off effortlessly, having learned over the years who Biran would tend to and who he would rather see succumb to whatever ailed them. It was a steep and difficult learning curve for you, your initial training taught you that you must do your utmost to save every life. Biran had laughed in derision, saying that that mindset wouldn’t serve you well out here. These were gangs, not the flyboys of Corellia. Saving one of their lives might condemn countless others. So while you struggled, you accepted that it was his practice and he made the rules and after over two years on Dandoran, you had seen enough victims of the gang warfare to not feel any pity when one of them suffered an injury.

“C’mon beautiful. One of our pals was injured in a… terrible, terrible accident.” The taller of the two human males, a lanky man with a neck that looked much too long and eyes that took way too much liberty in running over your body.

“There are other doctors in Mynock.” You replied steadily, “I’m sure one of them can help.”

To humor them any longer would be to encourage trouble, so you cut the conversation short and turned quite deliberately to make the point that the conversation was over, flashing the fishmonger a wan smile before turning back the way you came.

“We weren’t done talkin’ to you.”

Your eyes widened marginally when an iron grip closed around your upper arm, your free hand dropping the items in your arm immediately to click the safety off your blaster and lift it in the time it took for the Twi’lek to yank you into facing him again.

“Did I say you could lay a hand on me?” You hissed, the blaster pointing upward from where you held it close to your body towards the underside of the Twi’lek’s chin.

“Quite the little spitfire, ain’t she lads?” He crowed, amused by your action. His laughter was like shattered glass on your ears, making you want to wince, but you kept your hand steady even as your heart pounded. You received as much training as anyone when they joined the Rebellion, but your experience in actual combat beyond treating people on the front line was limited. You knew your own limitations, and that there was no way you would be able to take on all three of them.

The hand around your arm squeezed painfully and you clocked the blaster, lifting it closer to sit under the Twi’lek’s chin, “Release me. Now.”

And like most men of his ilk, he ignored you in favor of his own voice,

“From what we’ve seen, you work with the good doctor. Shouldn’t be a bother for you to fix him up. Nicer to look at too, eh fellas?” He tossed over his shoulder to the snickers of his lackeys.

“Then you can go back to target practice with your toy gun.” He chuckled darkly, leaning in where the pungent smell of his breath made you turn your head away in distaste, “That is, if we let you go at all.”

You swallowed thickly at the threat, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as your mind scrambled to come up with a solution, a way out, something. You felt the familiar sting of tears at the back of your eyes when each avenue came up blank. You couldn’t think of anything and suddenly, you felt so terribly alone in this shithole of a town on a faraway planet far from anyone who gave a bantha crap who would actually be able to help you.

Their laughter only grated on your already frayed nerves and pissed you off even more. You had fought too hard and suffered too much to let these assholes take the one thing you owned, your freedom. Your eyes flashed with anger and snapped back to the Twi’lek, ready to pull the trigger because if you were going out, it would be on your terms.

Their laughter suddenly ceased then, and you blinked. Had they copped that you planned to take at least one, maybe two of them out with you? Before you could figure it out, your arm was shoved away. You raised your now free hand to steady the blaster as you aimed it at them, but they were backing away, eyes averted.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You growled, hiding the waver in your voice.

They said nothing in reply as the Twi’lek bared his teeth and made towards you again. One of the humans grabbed his arm and hissed something to him. You couldn’t make it all out, but you swore you heard a name you never thought you’d hear again.

Teff.

With one last growl and glare, the Twi’lek conceded to the advice of the humans and all three of them melted back into the crowds of Mynock leaving you to release a heavy breath as you lowered your weapon, replacing the safety with ease as your eyes continued to scan the street. You wanted to be certain they had really left.

“Huh, maybe they were smart after all.” You muttered to yourself, proud that you had dealt with the situation somewhat and holstered your blaster against your hip again, “Still got it girl.” You commended yourself as you stooped to pick up your dropped groceries.

A snorted, “I beg to differ” had you blinking up over your shoulder at the familiar, cocksure figure of the Mandalorian; a hand only grazing the blaster at his hip as he stood casually behind you, his head tilted down to look at you and a resounding sigh leaving his helmet when you smiled.

“Mando?”

An incline of his head was the only greeting you received before he crossed his arms across the wise expanse of his armored chest.

“One sec.”

You got back to your feet and, as if by instinct, ran your eyes over his body, “You didn’t poison yourself again, did you?” You teased lightly, realizing that you were seeing him uninjured for the first time. Well, the second time. But walking into a cantina to do battle with a Houk didn’t could in your estimation.

It gave you pause to notice things about him that you didn’t usually; the way he stood, leaning his weight back on his left foot that gave him an air of lazy arrogance that wouldn’t be misplaced in a loth-wolf relaxing in the winter sun. The strength of his thighs seems to be accentuated by the posture; one hand placed securely at his blaster. If you didn’t know any better, his stance was like an open challenge to every male around him; submit or suffer. But you did know him somewhat, and you knew that he didn’t need to lay down any challenge. He had already won the second he stepped off his ship. The wide breadth of space given to him by passers-by only highlighted that fact.

Even with every patch of skin covered, you could feel the raw power rolling off of him, or was it testosterone? Whatever it was, it tugged at a more primal instinct and ignited a slow, steady heat inside of you that made you both embarrassed and intrigued.

Okay, so you were attracted to the way the man stood. That was fine, that was acceptable. You were a warm-blooded woman in her prime who knew her desires and embraced them. Finding how a Mandalorian… stood, was just another interesting thing to add to your list of things you found attractive.

Along with a raspy baritone and penchant for trouble…

You know what, it was probably just a fantastic indication that you hadn’t been laid in a while, so you made a mental note to deal with that particular issue later.

“I never poisoned myself.” That same low, gruff voice rose to your bait so easily and you had to bite your lip not to laugh, his hand fisting at his side before he unclenched it. Probably thinking about strangling you, honestly. Now there was a thought, for later. Nope, it was definitely the recent dry spell that had you like this. And the sun. The sun always had a part to play in these delusions.

Mando seemed to figure out your game of teasing him however, when you couldn’t fully mask your smile and responded in kind,

“You’re welcome, by the way.” His voice rumbled and you were certain that if you were only a few inches closer, you would be able to feel the vibrations brush against you.

“For what?” You laughed in disbelief, “I had everything under control before you decided to strut into the fray.”

You tried to prevent the frown from creasing between your brows when you thought a little more on the situation. You had a blaster literally pointed to the neck of one of those thugs and they didn’t care. It didn’t even seem like Mando had drawn his weapon and all three had scarpered? Was there any fairness in the galaxy? Obviously not.

The unpainted helmet tilted, the impassive T-visor giving away nothing of its wearers feelings beyond the sigh that left him, “What did you plan to do? Shoot the son of a mudscuffer and have an entire gang out for blood in less than an hour? Yeah, that’s smart.” He snorted.

Your mouth fell open in incredulity, “Talk about the Jawa calling the Ewok short, you’d have done the exact same thing!” You cursed your short temper, especially when it came to the stubborn mule of a man in front of you. The fact that his voice never once rose frustrated you. It remained gravelly but soft, like the sound of pebbles and stones being pushed and pulled by the ocean you could hear from your bedroom as a child.

You were a mature person; you were proud of how you dealt with most things. But in this instance, you allowed your immature side to rear her head momentarily as you began to stalk back to the practice. A piss poor option since the Mandalorian scoffed and kept up with you easily, obviously not content with you having the last word.

“But I wouldn’t be so reckless to not think it through before shooting them.” He tipped his helmet back a little, as if he dared to look down his nose at you. Frustration simmered in your blood as your eyes narrowed at him sideways.

“I was wrong, you obviously are injured. A blow to the head this time was it, Mando? Must be hidden under that kettle you call a helmet” You let out an exasperated breath, shaking your head, “I’ve no cure for that unfortunately.”

You could have sworn you heard a soft noise that sounded remarkably like a chuckle, but it was so quiet and the streets so noisy that you were certain you were wrong.

When the door to the practice-come-living quarters for yourself and Biran came into view, you stopped short. How did you get back here so quickly? Looking over your shoulder, you realized you had led the Mandalorian on a merry chase to nowhere he needed to be. He didn’t look particularly fazed, but the small voice of guilt that sounded an awful lot like your mother had you opening your mouth before you could think twice,

“Do you want to come in?”

What possessed you to invite him in?

It was obvious from both the stilted way you asked and the drawn out, deeply awkward silence that followed. You were about to tuck tail and run inside, slam the door, and pretend you weren’t as mortified as you knew you were when he cocked his head. The movement made you pause in your escape, opening your mouth to tell him to forget about it before the words got lodged in your throat.

“Sure.” Was all he said, and that was how you found yourself staring at a fully armed Mandalorian taking up two thirds of the small settee in the living room to the back of the practice, his hands placed on each thigh as they spread a bit when he sat.

Biran, bless him, took up the last third of the same settee, unfazed by the type of man in his living room and chatting merrily about the last Mandalorian he had met over fifteen years ago.

“And that wasn’t you?”

“No.”

“Ah maybe someone you know then!”

“Maybe.”

Mando’s conversation skills were abysmal.

You didn’t have very high expectations in the first place, but watching it without being a participant, was downright comical. You hid your smile behind the glass of water you had fetched for yourself but the slight tilt of his helmet in your direction told you he had caught your amusement. For someone whose face you couldn’t see, you could practically feel his eyes narrow at you. It made the giddiness from being equal parts anxious and entertained from watching Mando try make nice with the elderly Mirialan rise again and you had to physically bite your lip to stop.

Mando wasn’t listening to Biran anymore, that much was obvious. He wasn’t even looking in his direction, more comfortable blatantly glaring at you instead. Biran was unfazed. Truly, the Mirialan didn’t need a response to have a conversation. A listening ear was sometimes all he wanted. It was a characteristic that endeared you to the him in the first place. The elderly were so often overlooked and written off, but when one only cared enough to listen, they would find themselves enriched with experiences no history book could ever compete with.

“…So how do you two know each other?”

Your attention was dragged back into the conversation so fast you might have given yourself whiplash. You blinked a few times as the Mirialan watched Mando with a clueless smile on his face, completely ignorant to the stiff body beside him.

“Coercive medical attention.” You choked a bit on the sip of water you had taken to buy yourself some time to think; coercive? That rotten---

“Ah, you were a difficult patient, were you?” Biran chuckled, knowing your methods well, “Sweet as pie if you do as your told, but the minute you resist she’ll go for you like a sand panther. I can’t imagine there was much room for bedside manners in the Rebellion, but thankfully that attitude works well in cities like Mynock.” You spluttered again, putting the glass down since it was out to get you too apparently.

Of all the treacherous--, why were you so nice to this old sod again? You would show him a sand panther when you ‘forget’ to buy his favorite tea next time you went shopping.

You seethed to yourself, leaning back in the armchair you had perched yourself on earlier, flyaway hairs from the breeze outside falling into your face which you blew away with a frustrated breath.

“Hm, a panther?” Your eyes rose as the low baritone filled the air after Biran had finished having his laugh at your expense. Mando cocked his head pensively to the side as he looked at you briefly, “More like a kitten, I’d say.” And with that, he looked away.

He didn’t bother saying anything else after that, content with letting Biran’s laughter fill the room and smother the tense silence the two of you were sitting in.

You could feel your cheeks heating up once more as you glared daggers at the tin can in front of you. Why did it feel like you were being simultaneously insulted and flirted with? You couldn’t make the distinction, so you didn’t know how to respond.

Instead, you decided to poke at a different part of the conversation.

“For someone who was coerced, you sure do find yourself on my table quick enough when you need treatment.” Your eyes ran up and down the length of his body candidly when he looked back at you, “and when you don’t need treatment, evidently.”

You smirked when the Mandalorian clenched a fist on his thigh, the third occupant in the room seemingly forgotten as Mando hissed,

“I never asked for your help.”

You scoffed and decided not to deign that with a response.

“Besides, I only stopped over for supplies and fuel.” He admitted and a treacherous part of you sunk a bit at the honesty in his voice. Seeing you was just a coincidence, like always. The unspoken words hung heavy in the air and you fought the twinge of sadness that chased you because of them.

Biran looked between the two of you before standing shakily and patting the Mandalorian on the shoulder with no hesitation, “Allow us to provide you with something extra for your travels then.” He turned his wrinkled face towards you with a smile, the deep groves of his crow’s feet increasing as he nodded to the bags of forgotten groceries, “I think our guest should try the crab. Knowing you, you bought too much as usual.”

You flushed at being caught out, were you really that predicable?

“There’s no need. I got what I came for so, I’ll be going now.” Mando stood fluidly despite his armor, and you were once again struck with how different it was seeing him injured as opposed to healthy. You felt you needed to get used to his presence all over again, with how much it filled the room.

“Thank you, for your hospitality.” He tipped his helmet towards Biran, his voice still rather gruff but laced with a polite softness uncharacteristic to him. Biran waved him off and started making his way back out to the practice when he heard the binary from his medi-droid welcoming a new patient.

That left the two of you standing in a room that suddenly felt much too small for the tension that hung around you both like a blanket. You moved into the kitchen to separate the food you would keep and the food you would give to Mando on one of the countertops, tying the bag tightly by the straps so that it stayed clean and fresh when you were done. You couldn’t hear him move, but you could feel the slight disturbance of the air when he leaned his shoulder casually against the doorframe, arms crossed enticingly once more as he watched you.

“So… what did he call you again? A sand… kitten, was it?”

“Oh, shut up.” You growled over your shoulder at him before turning and shoving the bag with two of the Berbersian crabs and some herbs you knew went well with them, into his hands.

“I don’t need these.” He held the bag out, straightening his stance as he pushed himself from the doorframe. You wisely ignored him.

“All you need is a pan. And water. And heat. Boil them and actually give your body some proper nutrients, would you?”

You explained as you began leading him out towards the private entrance of the residence, through the small kitchen and out into an alleyway that gave you an immediate sense of déjà vu the moment Mando stepped outside. The sun was still beating down and it glinted across the helmet that was becoming as recognizable as a face to you.

“In case you didn’t realize, I’m perfectly healthy.” He replied smoothly, getting his bearings as he examined the alleyway and noted the sounds from the nearby street as the direction he needed to go.

“That’d be a first.” You griped at him, but there was no venom in your words, and he knew it.

You knew he was about to leave, and the suddenness of his departure was as jarring as his arrival. You didn’t know why you felt the need to stall, and you pushed that urge down rapidly in the face of the warrior when he looked back at you from assessing the street not a few feet away.

You sighed and let out a chuckle, wondering again how this man constantly came barreling into your life, disrupting the precarious peace you had brokered while here. You might have said it was a nuisance, but deep down, you knew that he brought a breath of life back into yours every time he crossed your path, reinvigorated the aimless routine you found yourself in. It was unsettling, the way this man had wormed his way into being such a… significant presence in your life. Even after only meeting him three times and always under less than pleasant circumstances.

Part of you wanted to tell him he could stay longer if he wanted; but you knew he would refuse.

Part of you wanted to tell him to be safe; but you knew he wouldn’t be.

Part of you wanted to tell him that you would see him around; but you knew that you probably wouldn’t.

So you settled on a lackluster, “good luck on your hunt” with a small smile as a peace offering for the fraught bickering you always seemed to fall into with him. A peace offering, he seemed to accept as he lifted the bag silently and looked inside,

“Pan. Water. Heat. Right?” His own attempt made your smile grow as you chuckled and nodded,

“You got it, sunshine.”

He nodded once in affirmation while you moved around him back towards the door of the practice. For some reason, you didn’t want to watch him walk away this time. It was easier for you to leave instead. A rumble of your name from the Mandalorian had you looking over your shoulder at him questioningly, the blush that had risen to your cheeks at the sound of your name on his lips not lost on Mando. He had turned back towards you when you moved and after a beat, spoke again.

“See you next time.”

And just like that, your chest hollowed, and a warmth filled you. The weight of his words were like an embrace, a reassurance you didn’t know you needed. Had needed, for longer than you probably knew. It was something secure and encouraging in these times of change and uncertainty, and you felt yourself cling to those words like a lifeline.

The placid nod you offered him with a gentle smile was all he stuck around for. Spinning on his heels, he took off towards the streets of Mynock once more, disappearing in a flash of beskar and steel and for once, you didn’t ponder about possibly seeing him again. You knew you would.

Din settled back into the pilots’ chair of the Razor Crest twenty minutes later, running through the familiar process of flying the ship out of the atmosphere and into the comfort of space, eager to escape into hyperdrive as soon as he was clear enough from Dandoran.

See you next time?

He groaned leaned his head back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling of the cockpit, his brows drawn low over his eyes as he frowned. What possessed him to offer that promise, he didn’t know. Maybe it was the way your eyes had dimmed slightly when he was about to leave, or when you had wished him luck on a job he was still so uncertain about. Maybe it was the way you blushed when he said your name.

Or maybe it was just because he wanted to see you again too.

And that was the most troubling reason of all.

Din didn’t do friends, he had acquaintances and colleagues even if the term was tenuous. He had the covert and the foundlings, but he didn’t have people he actually wished to see. Never trusted anyone beyond what they could each offer one another. You hadn’t looked for anything from him, and it was unsettling. He didn’t know if he could trust you, years of training and experience told him otherwise. But from the old memories of you pressing Raquor’daan poison from his wound to the teasing friendship you displayed with the old Mirialan, his resolve softened a little.

His eyes flicked to the rapidly shrinking planet he was leaving.

Trust was too strong a word right now, but respect… he could admit that he respected you. And that alone put you on a very short list of people, one he was sure you would never truly understand the importance of.

And he was right.

You would never know the significance of being on that very short list of people, but in that moment, Din’s grudging respect for you set both of your lives on a very different course than either of you ever anticipated; one that revolved around a very special, very small, green child.

Once Dandoran had faded sufficiently behind the Razor Crest, he keyed in the co-ordinates to the far reaches of the Outer Rim and entered hyperspace and after several days of travel, he finally struck beskar when the tracking fob starting beeping as he coasted through space. He smirked behind his helmet as he changed direction and noted the closest planet on his navicomputer where his bounty was hidden.

Arvala-7.

Gotcha.

Stitches Taglist:

@geannad @ayamenimthiriel​ @sarahjkl82-blog @gracie7209​ @nova646 @pychedelic-rainbow

[parkers-gal]

maybe a cute little blurb about tom and the reader announcing they’re engaged to their parents/families?

enjoyyy :)

requests are open

wc: 1.5k (sorry, went overboard with this)

—

Tom gave you no option, really. You had no choice but to love him, to fall for him as hard as you did. Oftentimes, you thought about how inevitable it was, how inevitable he was. You knew his trap was inescapable, but you were too exhilarated, too thrilled with the idea of being his, that you let him trip you. You let him, let him trip you until you fell hard.

If Tom had fallen any harder, he was positive he’d break his nose for the fourth time in five years. But no, he definitely fell, but he didn’t hit rock bottom. He’d fallen for you, and that was the scariest thing in the entire world to him — losing you, falling so hard and fearing if you’d leave. He knew if you did leave, he’d never recover, never truly live the same way.

So he’s asking for you to be his, for forever. Granted, forever is a long time, and that’s almost what Tom loves most about it. He loves calling you his, knowing you’re connected at the hip, in the mind, with your hearts. But he also loves having the security of everyone else knowing it, too.

You love it too — you love what the ring symbolizes. Your Tiffany & Co. ring, a dashing 1.27 carats. You love Tom, and the way his mind works — he didn’t go the traditional route in getting your parents’ blessing and buying a ring. Instead, he’d asked you casually.

“Hey, love.” Tom walks into the kitchen, sitting on the counter beside the stove where you’re heating the kettle for some tea.

“What’s up, baby?”

“Do you… wanna go shopping today?”

“For what?”

“A ring.”

You freeze, glancing up at him with shocked eyes, eyes full with pleasant surprise.

“A ring?”

“For… you. For us- for… marriage?”

“Tommy…” You lean back, mouth open slightly. You can feel tears starting to form, starting to wet your eyes. It’s love — you can feel it — it’s love that’s wetting your eyes, your cheeks, your face. It’s love that causes these happy tears. “What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying…” He jumps off the counter, grabbing both of your hands after coming closer to you, filling up the space between you and him. “That I want you to be mine for… the rest of my life.”

“Tom,” You pout. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That you’ll let me?” His eyes are more hopeful than they’ve ever been in his entire life. Even more so than when he’d auditioned for Spider-man. He’s practically on his knees for you, sacrificing his heart in return for yours. “That you’ll let me be yours?”

You break into a smile, arms wrapping around his neck, lips by his ear as you whisper your response, feverishly and softly and passionately. “Of course, I’ll let you. You’ve always been mine.”

That day, the two of you went into Tiffany & Co. together, pointing at the jewels and bands and accessories with smiles wider than the Grand Canyon. You had a feeling, later on, that perhaps every store worker was watching the two of you, watching your love bounce off the walls of the fancy shop. They were watching you with jealous eyes, with proud eyes, that you were taking this large step together, and decided to include them in just a small piece of your journey together.

It’s been a month since then, and for the first time ever, you’re wearing your ring out in public. You’re having dinner with Tom’s family and your own family. It’s your parents’ anniversary — at least, last week it was, but they decided to celebrate with connected family later on — which means close family is gathering for a small dinner party.

“Don’t get cold feet on me.” Tom’s chin rests in the crook of your neck as he hugs you from behind. You’re looking in the full-length body mirror, adjusting your clothes as you slip the engagement ring on your finger like you’ve done so many times when you’re alone.

“Never, Tommy.” You return his smile, turning around in his arms and leaning to give him a soft kiss. It’s not a peck, but it’s not messy — it’s passionate and intimate and everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s what you’ve dreamed of, fantasized, read in every romance novel you could get your hands on.

It’s easy, being in love with Tom. It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done and the most difficult thing in the world. It’s hard when everybody wants to be in your place, when everybody wants to be his. But it’s easy, knowing that he’d never trade his place for anything in the universe. If he’s not by your side, then he’s betrayed everything he’s ever told himself.

He’s complete by your side. That’s cliche, and even he knows it, but nothing has ever felt so true to him. Nothing has ever felt so right.

You lock the front door, holding your potato quiche with two hands as you make your way to the car. Tom sets the gift bag in the backseat before opening the passenger for you. You smile, thanking him, and he steals a cheek kiss before closing the door. You chuckle, setting the quiche on your lap as you buckle your seat belt. He does the same, buckling his seatbelt and shifting the gear, leaving the driveway before offering you his hand.

You accept it, interlocking your fingers. He blushes at the gesture, giddy inside. There’s something so intimate about affection in an act as simple as driving or even cleaning the dishes. There’s something so knee weakening about needing to feel someone against your skin in the simplest of acts. Against your skin in a raw way that isn’t animalistic, passionate yet not feverishly or greedy. There’s something so butterfly-provoking about displays of love in settings that aren’t even romantic.

It’s suffocating yet addicting at the same time. He’s addicting, but not as much as you.

As you get closer to the front door of the Holland household, you find yourself covering your hands with the sleeves of your hoodie. As you enter the house, you’re too caught up in greetings and hugs and food and people to realize you haven’t let the piece of jewelry show.

Dinner hasn’t even been served yet and you’re already growing hot and sweaty. You’re sipping wine, leaning against the fireplace with Tom’s arm around your waist. He’s calmly sipping beer, fingers ever present on your skin. As he leaves yet another kiss against the underside of your ear, you feel urged to ask to make the announcement now, rather than during dessert.

“Can we… tell them now?”

“Really?” He pauses his latest kiss against your neck, whispering back to you. When you nod, he smiles and mirrors your headshake. “May I take your jacket then, kind lady?” He puts on a Victorian accent and you giggle.

“If you insist.”

As your arms are stripped of the hoodie, you hand it off to him for safekeeping in the coat closet. When he returns to your side, your hands are behind your back, waiting for Tom to gather everyone’s attention.

“Hey, everyone, there’s uh- there’s something we’d like to talk about with everyone.”

As Harry raises a brow, he makes eye contact with his twin who hollers for Nikki to come in from the kitchen for a moment. Your parents are bewildered, as is your sister and Harrison.

With a final look at Tom, you smile as Nikki settles onto the arm of a chair Dominic is sitting in. You hold up your left hand, proudly showing off the newest ring to your collection. Your mom gasps first, and Nikki stands up quickly when she realizes what she’s seeing.

Paddy looks at Tom for positivity on what this means, and he can only smirk with a blush brighter than the star he named after you. All in a matter of seconds, your mothers are running towards you, Harrison and Sam and Harry screaming in excitement, in congratulations. Tom is hugging your father, shaking his hand nervously.

Your sister is next to see you, pulling you into her embrace with a teary smile and happy eyes. “You’re… gonna be married.”

You laugh, nodding as you try not to cry too. “Yeah.”

“So he’s the one, huh?”

“Yeah,” You eye Tom, who’s talking to your mother and your sister’s husband. “He’s… the only one.”

When you turn your head back in your sister’s direction, she’s looking at you with soft eyes and an adoring smile. You try not to get flustered, but when you look at Tom again, he’s looking at you already, all the way from across the living room.

He’s smiling in a way he never has before, looking at you as if you’re the only person he’s ever laid eyes on. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a chill sent straight up your spine, and suddenly, you know you’re meant to do this for the rest of your life.

[the-dream-team]

Chlorine

A fluffy little one-shot for @efkgirldetective's summer of jily week two prompt: swimming with friends // Today we're younger than we're ever gonna be <3

“What in Merlin’s name is that smell?” gagged Sirius, bringing his towel up to cover his nose.

Mary swotted him with a bright green foam noodle. “That’s just the chlorine, you knob. It’s a chemical Muggles use to keep the water clean.”

“The water’s not clean?” squeaked Peter, his beady eyes widening.

“Take a look around Pettigrew,” laughed Mary, gesturing wildly. “There are about a trillion little kids running around with saggy trunks and juice-stained mouths, it’s not exactly the Prefect’s bathroom here.”

The group of teenagers took a moment to survey their surroundings. Sirius was right, the thick summer air reeked of chlorine wafting from unnaturally electric blue swimming pools, packed with screaming children, brightly colored floaties, and haggard parents. Behind the main pool, reaching up to the sky, stood two impressive slides, winding and bending in every direction before opening up into a smaller basin. Once every minute, the slide discarded a new, squealing child into the water with an eruptive splash.

Lily eyed the Muggle kids with some trepidation. “Are we too old to be here?” she asked, eyes shifting as she clutched her copy of Herbology for Potioneers a little closer to her chest. “It feels like everyone else is about a decade younger than us.”

“Don’t worry too much about that, Evans,” said James, a bright smile aimed in her direction. “Today we’re younger than we’re ever going to be, anyway!” He nudged her affectionately, resulting in a rosy hue that spread across her cheeks as their bare shoulders made contact.

“Alright,” announced Remus after barely dodging a rogue beach ball, “let’s find a place to put our towels before these buggers realize we’re easy targets.”

They managed to snag a row of plastic lounge chairs beside the wave pool to dump their belongings on before Sirius set his sights on the towering waterslides across the park.

“You said these slides were crazy fast, right MacDonald?” Sirius asked, a dangerous gleam in his eye.

“They’re the fastest in Britain,” grinned Mary, tossing her sunnies aside. “And you get some serious air on your way out, it’s the closest thing Muggles have to flying, I’d argue.”

Lily tensed and quickly diverted her attention to her book, though her eyes remained still as she stared at the pages. Almost no one noticed her sudden discomfort.

“That’s bloody brilliant,” grinned Sirius. “Last one to the top has to buy us a round of those mushie drinks.”

“They’re called slushies, Padfoot.”

“Call them whatever you want, Moony, but I want a blue one.” Sirius discarded his t-shirt onto a chair and kicked off his sandals in preperation. “Prongs, do you think we could convince the lifeguards to let us go down the slides together?”

But James wasn’t paying attention to Sirius. “Nah, go ahead without me,” he said, eyes trained on Lily as she continued intently staring at her book. “I think I’m gonna start out a little slower with the lazy river. Evans, care to keep me company?”

Lily’s eyes snapped up to see Sirius’ dropped jaw, Mary’s raised eyebrows, and James’ steady smile.

“Oh,” she said, her voice finding a higher octave than usual, “sure, I could join you.”

“Fine,” grumbled Sirius, pulling the others along with him, “but I’m coming to find you at that dopey river after our first round on the slides. I won’t let you be boring all day, Prongs.”

James shrugged, barely paying the others any mind as he extended a hand to Lily. She watched their friends saunter off before accepting his help to stand up.

“Hold on there, Evans,” said James, plucking her book from her hands and tossing it back onto their pile of towels, “I can’t have you doing homework; today is all about having fun!”

“Then why aren’t you going with the others to the slides?”

He paused, considering her question with a smile. “Because you’re way more fun than a couple of waterslides.”

Before she had a chance to respond, James pulled her away from the chairs and towards the center of the park, their bare feet slapping against sizzling cement as they navigated around young children and indifferent lifeguards.

The lazy river lived directly across from the concession stand, perfectly situated for parents who wanted to keep an eye on their floating kids while they enjoyed a cool beer and a basket of hot chips. The river wound itself around an impressive structure resembling a fairytale castle, complete with canons that sprayed water onto passerbys and waterfalls that poured over plastered mountainsides and into its surrounding moat.

At the water’s edge sat a pile of tubes, growing hot under the unrelenting midday sun. James released Lily’s hand to secure them two floats, missing her subtle disappointed huff at the loss of his grip when he turned his back on her. But by the time he handed over her tube, she’d managed to rearrange her face into a neutral smile.

“After you, Evans,” he said with a little bow, extending an arm towards the gently rolling river.

She rolled her eyes at the exaggerated chivalry, but stepped forward nonetheless, carefully placing her tube in the water and lowering herself into the center. The water, cool and refreshing, lapped against her backside and kissed her heels as she hung her legs over the tempered rubber.

James took a different approach, choosing to throw his own tube unceremoniously into the water before giving himself a running start to cannonball onto it. Lily screeched as he nearly jumped directly on top of her.

“You prat!” she laughed, splashing water on his face, covering his glasses in little droplets.

“You know you love me,” he teased, a glint in his eye.

The pink glow that spread across her cheeks could have passed as a light sunburn, but the way James’ eyes flashed suggested he’d picked up on the truth. His dimples appeared despite the attempt to keep his grin at bay.

“So, Potter,” she started, choosing to change the subject, “what drew you to the lazy river, other than the obvious similarities you share?”

James drove an imaginary dagger into his chest. “You wound me, Evans! But if you must know, I thought it’d be the perfect place to chat with you.”

If the river’s current hadn’t continued pulling them along, Lily might have thought time had stood still. “To chat?”

“Yeah,” he responded as though it were obvious, “the playground would be too noisy with all the kids running around, it seems like we would’ve spent more time underwater than above it at the wave pool, and the hot tubs are simply not weather appropriate.”

“With me?”

It was finally James’ turn to look surprised. “Of course! I’ve spent my whole summer mucking about with the boys, but I’ve hardly seen you since Peter’s party and I missed talking with you.”

Lily tried passing off her pleased burst of laughter as a scoff. “I always forget how forthright you are.”

“I’m an open book,” he replied, sticking her with a pointed stare she couldn’t see as she averted her own gaze, attempting to hide her growing blush he had already clocked.

“I wish I could be more like that,” she spoke to the distance, to the cloudless expanse of sky, hoping it would relay the message to the boy whose intertube continued bouncing rhythmically against her own as they traveled in endless circles.

“As a kid,” she continued, “I loved playgrounds. Gravity melted away when I sailed off swings and soared through slides, when my magic took over before I even knew what I was. But the uncontrollable flying always scared my parents, so when my family visited parks, I’d be kept on the sidelines, hidden away to avoid causing a scene. I guess I got pretty good at hiding.”

“Do you want help practicing?”

Lily jerked her attention back to James and his easy eyes, his ruffled hair. “What?”

“Do you want help practicing being an open book?” he repeated simply. “I happen to be an expert and I’d be happy to lend my talents.”

His cheeky grin earned him a light splashing and an only-slightly-exasperated huff. “You know what, fine. Teach me your ways, Potter.”

“Alright,” he said, eyes brightening as he adjusted his position on his tube to face her more fully, “we’ll start with easy questions and then get gradually harder from there. The only rule is that you have to answer honestly.”

Lily sunk slightly into the hole of her intertube, but nodded, resting her chin on her folded arms, fingers mindlessly dipping in and out of the passing water below.

“First off, who is your best friend?”

“That’s your easy question?” Lily guffawed.

“What?” asked James, watching her curiously. “I already know the basics. Your favourite colour is forest green, you like chocolate biscuits best, and your sister is a piece of work. Now, who is your best friend?”

“Mary, I guess?” said Lily, brows furrowed slightly. “We immediately clicked since we first met, what with us both being Muggleborn, and after Sev was out of the picture…”

“I’m familiar with this part,” James grimaced, his focus shifting to his fingernails. “So, next question. If you had to be sorted into a different house, which one would you choose?”

“Hufflepuff,” she responded without blinking. “Closest to the kitchens, obviously. Next question.”

“Respectable,” he chuckled. “How about… do you prefer Butterbeer or Firewhiskey?”

She paused, catching his eye for longer than she’d planned. “You probably already know the answer.”

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards with a jolt of hope. “Butterbeer spiked with Firewhiskey?”

“Butterbeer spiked with Firewhiskey.”

James leaned forward slightly, his arm extending absentmindedly to reach for the cloth handles on Lily’s tube to pull her closer. “Like the ones we made at Peter’s birthday party last month?”

Their hands mingled together in the water between their tubes, pruned fingers brushing against each other as the current pushed them together. “Exactly like the ones from Peter’s birthday.”

He was near enough to count every sunkissed freckle spattered across her nose. She could practically fall into his growing dimples.

“Oi, Prongs!” came the disappointing voice of Sirius Black from the concession stand’s picnic tables. “You can’t hide from us all day, mate!”

“Maybe not,” James called back, a lopsided smirk sliding across his face, “but I can try!”

Before Sirius had a chance to respond, James sunk through the center of his intertube and disappeared under the water’s surface. Lily peered into the river, wondering if he could have possibly brought his Invisibility Cloak with him to the park, but her thoughts were quickly interrupted when a hand grabbed her ankle under the water. It tugged lightly, willing her out of her tube and into the depths of the lazy river.

Once fully submerged in the water, Lily squinted her eyes open to see her new surroundings, blue like the sky with ripples of sunlight refracting through the flowing stream, circular shadows overhead from the tubes they left on the surface, roaming away like drifting clouds searching for different horizons. A hand found her arm and spun her around, bringing her face to face with James, his glasses attempting an escape into the river’s flow, tiny air bubbles escaping through his nose and growing smile.

He pulled her across the width of the river, through a shower of bubbles from the underside of a waterfall, and into still water again before finally leading them both to the surface. They broke back into the world with gasping breaths and laughter, finding themselves in a dark, quiet alcove behind one of the castle’s waterfall features. The lazy river continued on as they stood together in their hidden cave, separated only by a wall of tumbling water. Despite no longer being pulled by the river’s current, the two found themselves drifting closer and closer to one another.

“Do you have any more questions?” asked Lily, her whisper echoing around and joining in with the soft roar of the waterfall.

James tried to control the beating of his heart, which must have been reverberating all around their little retreat based on how loudly he heard it pounding in his ears.

He cleared his throat. “Did you want me to kiss you that night at Peter’s party?”

She inhaled sharply. “Yes. Next question.”

“Do you want me to kiss you now?”

“Yes.”

She barely got the word out before James’ lips found hers, crashing down like a wave against the shore, pulling them into a riptide of racing hearts, fluttering eyelashes, and sighing breaths. They kissed and kissed and kissed until their heads spun, either drunk off the thrill of new beginnings or thoughts of Firewhiskey-spiked Butterbeer. Or possibly it was the intoxicating combination of magic mixed with chlorine.

[truglori]

Daddy’s baby

Request: Erik tryna be romantic months after the reader gives birth

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Black Reader

Warning: Language, Fluff, Smut

Another day passed by leaving Y/N stressed. It was her second week back at work after being on a three month maternity leave. To her it didn’t feel like it was enough time off. Her body still going through its early postpartum phase. She could feel the faint cramping in her stomach every few hours. Her breast became engorged and leaking with her milk. Then there was her anxiety that spiked up after having her beautiful baby girl, Charisma Stevens. Y/N’s head would always snap up thinking that her little girl was somewhere close by whenever she heard the slightest noise of what she thought sounded like a cry.

Laughing to herself Y/N shook her head as she placed her laptop and binders in her work tote bag. She did it again. It was the end of the day and she was beyond ready to pick up her baby from daycare and head home to take a hot shower. Her body was yearning for some sense of alleviation. Walking through the halls of her office Y/N waved goodbye to all of her colleagues before making her way to her Jeep Grand Cherokee. Placing her things in the passenger seat she put on her seatbelt and headed to the daycare.

The place was a little under fifteen minutes from where she both worked and live. It was right in the middle. Y/N didn’t want to bring her baby somewhere, where she thought would be to far to get to her in case anything happened. That was another affect of being a new mom. She would always over think about the littlest things, but she figured better safe than sorry.

Strolling inside Y/N watched all the toddlers running around freely. There was building blocks and toys scattered everywhere. Her eyebrows lifted as she looked at the mess that she knew her home was going to experience as well within the next two years.

“Hi, Mrs. Stevens! I have little miss Charisma ready right here. Everything is in her bag and she should be all set to go. She’s such an angel.” Ashley, the young caretaker, spoke with a wide smile as she handed over a bundle up Charisma in her car seat.

“Thank you so much. I know she barely makes a sound when she’s around other people but when she’s at home it’s nothing but baby talk.” Y/N grinned as she retrieved the baby bag.

“Well she was great today. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

Y/N waved and walked back to her vehicle. Giving her baby two smooches she strapped her in properly.

“You ready to go home and see dada?” She put on her best baby talk and bent down to rub her nose with hers. Charisma smile blowing little spit bubbles.

Giggle Y/N fell in love all over again. She had Erik’s smile and dimples. She also had his characteristics already as well. Y/N noticed that at only three months Charisma only made noises around her and Erik but everyone else she was quiet. Just like Erik. He had to take some time to warm up to people before he became talkative.

Arriving at their one level home Y/N pulled in the driveway. She seen Erik’s Lincoln truck parked. He was home from work earlier than usual. Erik was a probationary firefighter, meaning he was still in the entry level phase. He’s only been in training for a month but Y/N noticed that he really loved it. After every shift Erik would come home removing his clothes and tell her about his whole day. So whenever he did that it would make Y/N’s mood ten times better.

Before she could reach the back door to unbuckle Charisma, Y/N was met with Erik walking out the door. No longer dressed in his Class A uniform but instead in a Nike sweat suit he jogged to her car greeting her with a bear hug.

“Princess. I missed you baby!” Erik’s tight hold lifting Y/N off her feet. He lips found hers kissing them three times before attacking her neck with pecks.

Laughing she wrapped her arms his neck. “Baby I missed you too but let me take out Charisma.” Y/N giggled between each word.

Putting her down immediately Erik lightly moved her to the side going to the car door and opening it. When he seen Charisma his eyes lit up the same way they did when he first watched his daughter come into this world. It was something he always did every time he was away from her for a long period of time.

“Hey daddy’s princess. Daddy missed you more, but don’t tell mommy.” Erik cooed to Charisma as he unbuckled her and took her out after making sure her head was secured.

After grabbing her tote and purse Y/N scoffed with amusement. “Really Erik.”

Rocking her side to side Erik glanced up to Y/N. Giving his famous smile that got her hooked when the two first met. His golds showing.He bit on his bottom lip revealing his dimple and walked up to her. He leaned down giving her and open kiss and slipped his tongue in her mouth. Pulling away he tugged her lower lip with his teeth and then kissed the supple flesh.

“You know you Daddy’s baby.” Erik’s deep voice spoke in her ear.

Y/n eyes traveled up and down his body as she followed him in their home. They walked into the livingroom. Y/N placed her bags down on couch near her. Taking off her shoes she lifted her legs up under her placing one on top of the other. The sound of Erik babbling with the baby caused her eyes to turn in their direction. Y/N smiled watching her husband and infant interact with each other.

“Here let me go wash her up. She’s been out all day babe?” Y/N sat up to take Charisma to the bath but was cut off with a knock on the door.

Her brows furrowed. “Erik you expecting any company?”

“Yeah actually I am.” Handing over the baby to Y/N, Erik walked to the door. He opened it giving the person on the other side a hug.

“Hey, mama! It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming to get Charisma for the night.” Erik smiled letting in Y/N’s mother.

Y/N face displayed both confused and joy. She was happy because her mom was here but she was confused when she heard Erik say that she was here to pick their daughter up.

“What’s going on? Hey mama.” Y/N greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m coming to pick up my grandbaby so that you and your husband can get some alone time together.” Y/N’s mom grinned as she played with Charisma’s small fingers.

Looking at Erik he stood to the side watching. Y/N could tell by his eyes that he was hoping she would go with it without putting up a fight. So she did. She handed over her baby to her mother gently caressing her hair.

“Okay well let me get her things together-“

“Already got that!” He pulled his baby bag from behind the couch.

“What about milk does she have-“ Y/N walked to the kitchen to double check but Erik blocked her grabbing her by the waist.

“Baby I took care of everything and it’s just for a night. She’s going to be fine.” He used his thumbs to stroke her cheeks.

Sighing Y/N gave in. Of course she knew that Charisma was going to be fine with her mother but this was going to be her first night without her since she was born. She was going to miss her but she knew that her and Erik very much needed this time alone together.

“Alright I’m leaving now. I’ll be back in the morning before you guys head to work.” Y/N’s mom place the baby in the car seat, making sure that she was in safely, and left.

Now by themselves Erik wrapped his arms around Y/N waist. He noticed his wife’s tension and nerves was getting the best of her as she watched their newborn get carried out of the house. But he was hoping that he could help ease that with the plans he had for them tonight.

They haven’t had a romantic night to themselves since Y/N entered her third trimester in her pregnancy. With all of the mood changes and aches and pains she dealt with it was tough for them to get away and spend a peaceful night with each other. So this was the first time in months that they would finally get to spend a one on one alone.

“C’mon princess, Daddy has something I want you to see.” Guiding her by his grip he had on her hips he walked her to their bedroom. When they came to Y/N gave a surprised gasp bringing her hands over her mouth before laughing.

“Baby what is this?”

“What you mean what is this? Look at this masterpiece I created.” Walking in front of her he held his hands out proud of what he done.

It was a homemade theater with a fort built over it that had mini lights going around glowing up the dark room. There was blankets and pillows laying out that had snacks and a bottle of Champagne sprawled out on top of them. The tv already showing Y/N’s favorite movie, The Notebook. But there was a food warmer with forks on the side of it that caught her attention.

“Now what is that?” She walked over to the area getting on her knees. Taking the top off of the pot her eyes rolled in the back of her head when she smelled her favorite dish that Erik would make for her. Shrimp and Chicken Alfredo.

Erik took a seat next to her observing her excitement. “Remember this was the ONLY thing that you would eat when you were pregnant? Had my pockets hurting buying you some shrimp every damn day.” Grabbing the forks he handed her one as they began to dig in.

Y/N’s eyes closed when the shrimp touched her taste buds. She would still get a craving of this meal every now and then but it was nothing compared to how she used to eat it almost daily when she was carrying Charisma.

Erik pressed play on the movie as they cuddled up underneath the blankets. Taking turns between drinking out of the bottle of warm Champagne and dipping into the food warmer Erik and Y/N ate in silence watching the film. Into the middle of the movie Erik paused it and stood up.

“Where are you going? The movies not over.” Glancing up Y/N place the bottle down making sure it won’t tip over.

“With this long ass movie we gonna be here all night . Take my hand.” Reaching out he waited for her to grab it. When she did he lifted her up and lead them to the bathroom.

“Babyy!” Y/N lip went to a pout. Her eyes began to water as she saw the bubble bath with rose petals on top and candles surrounding the medium size tub.

Erik walked in front of her not saying a word. He began to unbutton her work shirt. Slipping it off he followed with her pants next with the help of her stepping out of them. Y/N covered her stomach. A habit she did every since the baby. She felt insecure about her belly not snapping back like how she wanted it too and how the loose skin would hang. Removing her hands Erik looked at her. His eyes became saddening when he would see her hide her body from him.

“Not tonight princess.” Bringing her hands up to his mouth he kissed them. “Don’t hide from me what I caused to happen.”

Bending down on his knees he kissed her tummy. Erik felt Y/N’s body shiver from the contact. Taking the pads of his thumbs he pulled down her panties. Y/N’s breast fell up and down feeling her arousal heightened from the inside. Erik lifted back up to remove her bra with ease.

“You ready?” He leaned forward kissing her forehead.

Answering with a head nod Y/N raised a leg over one by one and dipped in. Looking up at Erik she smiled.

“Erik when did you run this bath?” She asked running her fingers through the lukewarm water.

“Like thirty minutes before you came home. Why?” He questioned curiously as he took off his sweat jacket leaving him in a crisp white t shirt with his gold chain draped over it. Moving some of the candles he sat on the rim watching her.

“It’s warm now that’s why. You should’ve had me get in here first and then we could’ve had movie night.” She joked using the wash cloth on her legs.

“Well that’s nothing we can’t fix.” Since the water level was low enough he turned the knob to the hot water and let it run. “Better?”

Biting her lip Y/N gave a shy nod. “Thank you daddy.”

Grabbing the towel from her hands Erik poured her favorite body wash into the rag. Dipping his hand into the water he let it gain a lather before using it to clean her with it. Y/N could feel the gentleness of his hand as she relaxed. She felt him travel all over her body before reaching her pussy. Erik’s bare hand began to caressing her outer lips.

Spreading open her thighs so he could have a better access Y/N cuffed the back of her knees bringing them up to her chest.

“You givin up the pussy like that?” His chain swinging above her playing with her clit. Going over the hard nub in circles Erik bent his head down to kiss her when moans began to leave her mouth. Y/N grasped onto his shirt as she used her hips to meet his movements. Bringing her free hand up to her left titty she started to tweak and pull her nipple. Even through the water she could feel her wetness escaping.

“Daddy get me out of this water and fuck me.” It was more of command than a question and Erik was more than happy to abide. He waited until Y/N was standing up fully before grabbing her by her thighs and carrying her back to the bedroom. He didn’t give a damn about getting his clothes wet because his main focus was to please her and that pussy.

Plopping her on the bed Y/N crawled to the middle, taking a pillow and putting it over her body as she watched him take off his shirt. He sent her a look that let her know that, that wasn’t going to stop him. Y/N seen the colors of his eyes grow darker. Which told her one thing. Erik wanted to fuck, fuck. Bringing her hand over her pussy she bit her lip prepared to take the beating she wanted badly.

Erik stepped out of his pants which left him in nothing but his briefs. The print of his thick and heavy semi-hard dick poked out making an appearance. Walking towards Y/N he waisted no time grabbing her by the ankles and dragging her to the edge of the bed. Hearing a squeal leave her lips he glanced up before bringing his face up to hers. His lips millimeters away.

“Ima tell you this once and once only... you keep me from getting in this pussy like how I want Ima fuck you up. Got it.” He gave her a fair warning but he was serious.

“Yes daddy.” Y/N reached her head up biting his lower lip.

Erik’s low eyes studying the way she sucked on making sure he was going to her mouth to use later. Taking each hand he spread her legs open by the back of her thighs bringing them as far as they could go. Going to her neck he sucked on the flesh taking his time. Running his tongue over one of her spots before flicking it slowly. Creating hickies and then kissing them.

Y/N gripped his dreads pushing him lower. She was beyond ready to feel his warm tongue suck her nipples and pussy. “Please daddy.” Her whimpers touching his ears.

Following the wants of where his wife desired him to be next Erik went to her left breast tonguing her nipple. Flicking the hard pebble over and over before sucking it. If it was for him to say, the left titty was his favorite which is why he always stayed there the longest. Switching over he gave the right the same treatment.

Y/N began to grow impatient, needy, and bratty all in one. She wanted to control the situation but was always out dominated by Erik. When she tried to push his head down further Erik grabbed her wrists bringing them to the side of her head and purposely stayed at her breast longer than he planned.

“You know you not in charge so cut that shit out.” His deep raspy voice retorted while kissing down her stomach paying close attention to the area knowing about her insecurities towards it.

Finally coming face to face with his weakness he held her legs open. Her phat pussy lips soaked and covered with her natural lubricant. Her pink showing with the spread of her lower lips. Erik was ready to eat her pussy till she was crying. It was that pretty to him. Making a trail of kisses on her inner thighs he kissed each lip with appreciation from all the times it made him nut.

“Still my shit, ain’t it?” His breath hitting her skin making her jump.

“Eat it then daddy-“

The feeling of his warm spit cut her off. Looking down at the sight Y/N’s mouth hung open watching the long string of liquid leave her husband’s mouth.

“Hold this shit open for me.” He demanded her.

Her hand went down as fast as the order came spreading her lips apart. She could feel the saliva against her fingers. But it didn’t matter the moment she felt Erik give numerous flicks to her nub. Her reflexes causing her legs to try to close but couldn’t with the firm grip he had on her thighs. He teased her going back and forth between doing that and sucking on her lips. Her hips thrusting and ready to feel the human vac machine suck her clit.

“Daddy suck that clit please.” Y/N begged. She could get nasty when the time came and she didn’t care about what she had to say or do just for her to cum.

Using his tongue Erik ran it along her slit. Going to her opening he dipped inside the warm tight treasure coating his tongue before going to her clit and sucking it. The taste of her juices dripping out made his dick put a tent in his briefs. The moment it reached his taste buds Erik became a predator tearing apart his prey. Her pussy. Repeatedly sucking her bud Erik had Y/N tugging on his dreads pushing him into her pussy.

“Ugh baby I’m gonna fuckin-“ The yelling coming from her throat made it raw and cut her sentence short. The tight cramping in her lower belly causing a tear to fall from the corner of her eyes. She exploded right on his tongue and he kept going.

Constant sucking to her clit had her whimpering. Her pussy was becoming sensitive and she couldn’t take it anymore. Pushing at his head hoping he’d get the message but he didn’t when he smacked her hand away. The continuous assult on her pussy caused another orgasm to erupt shortly after the first one. Erik lifted up. His beard covered in her essence as he bended down kissing her. His tongue swiping over hers letting her taste herself.

Sending a rough smack to her thigh he pulled away. “Come suck this dick.” Standing up straight and pulling down his underwear his nine inch dick sprung out.

Y/N’s body felt drained but going against the feeling she got on her knees staying on the bed. Leaning forward she kissed the head with no hands looking up at him.

“Thank you for making me cum daddy.” Holding him up by the shaft Y/N stuck her tongue out wetting up the sides.

“That ain’t the last time you cumin for the night.” Taking his long arm he slapped her ass cheek making her arch.

Opening her mouth Y/N smacked the tip of his dick on her tongue before flicking the sensitive area underneath it. Erik groaned and brought his hand up to her hair. He gripped the kinky locks giving it the shape of a ponytail. Y/N giggled as she took him into her mouth. Her head bobbing up and down creating extra saliva to get him sloppy. She felt him grow in her mouth and that made her pussy throb and become wetter. The swivel of her tongue rubbing against his under tip whenever she came to it had Erik sucking in air and backing away.

“Daddy don’t run.” Y/N coming off his dick to tease him.

“You tryna make me nut with that fucking slick ass tongue of yours. Damn ma keep going.” He slapped her ass for encouragement.

Y/N obeyed stroking him with one hand and focused on his head. She was trying to get him there but Erik didn’t want to bust from head. He wanted to get up in her guts. She began humming to block her gag reflexes to deep throat him. The vibrations from her mouth and watching the strings of spit falling on her titties sent Erik over the edge. Taking her ponytail he pulled her off him.

“Turn yo ass around now.” His voiced barked as he felt defeated. He had to gain his control back.

Y/N knew she was in trouble by the sound of his voice.

When she wasn’t moving fast enough Erik grabbed her by the hips placing her into position. Smacking her ass he punished her for trying to make him cum too quick. Gripping the base of his dick he rubbed it up and down her second lips coating himself with her slick lubricant before sinking inside her with one thrust. The sudden movement had him regretting it when he felt like he was going to bust off entry.

Y/N’s mouth ajar and eyes rolling up feeling the long and girthy dick enter her depths in one motion. Usually she would work her way down on him but tonight Erik was going crazy. Her wall clenched down on him from the invasion. One hand gripping the comforter and the other reaching behind for his.

“Ohh fuck...daddy you’re so deep already.” Y/N moaned blowing out air as she took deep breaths.

“Sss I know baby, pussy good as fuck.” Erik groaned while slowly starting up his strokes. He had to pace himself because he felt close but he wanted her to cum again.

Using her hips for leverage he thrusted into her feeling her tight wet walls gripping him. Slapping her ass he picked up his pace when he felt his nut wavering off. Y/N mouth spewing out curses coming out of her arch. Placing his hand at the top of her back he held her in place as his hips stroked up in her. But when she came up again he got annoyed.

“Man keep that fuckin arch and let me get in this pussy.” He stated irritated.

Not stopping his movements he put his hands in the middle of her back and put his weight on her. He figured that would help her since she acted like she didn’t know how to. Erik grinded his hips rotating them getting deeper in her pussy. He was trying to hit that button that he touched plenty of times before.

Biting her lip from the pressure she felt pushing at her stomach Y/N cried as she felt him hitting her spot. Not only was he stretching her pussy open but he was digging deep. Closing her eyes she started to see white dots in the darkness of them. Her brain becoming almost unresponsive as he stroked her into oblivion.

“Daddy okayyy!” Taking her hand Y/N brought it behind her. She wanted him to let up on her because he was beating her pussy up.

Sweat droplets now appearing on Erik’s forehead as he lifted up. “What’s up, you gon throw it back?”

Looking behind her she whimpered a ‘yes’. Erik smirked putting his hands behind his back but continued his strokes. He waited until she caught his rhythm before faltering his movements. Y/N used the weight of her ass as she threw it back on him. She held on to the sheets hearing the sound of their skin clapping together. When she felt his tip reach deeper than she wanted it to she scooted up only taking half of his dick.The sting of a hard slap on her right cheek made her tightened her hold on both the covers and his dick.

“Get back on that dick. I’m not gon tell you again.” His voice barked.

“Okayy.” The whimpers leaving her lips involuntarily.

Going down on him further Y/N reached behind her gripping her ass cheeks to help him get in there the way he liked. Her stomach going into a cramp as she noticed she was going to orgasm again for the third time tonight. Her walls slicking up and gripping his dick as she continued to fuck herself.

“I feel you gripping this dick.. go head and nut and after you do you better not stop till I get mine.” He thrusted his hips up making sure she understood him.

Due to that Y/N’s body trembled beneath him as she came on his dick. Her cream coating all over him. But she didn’t stop. Even through her overstimulation she kept going because she wanted to make this nigga nut. She began to throw her hips back against his harder. Looking behind her she was met with Erik’s dark eyes watching her. He brought his hand up gripping her hair. Not moving his hips but just having something to hold.

“Make this dick nut.” He stuck his tongue out at her teasingly before smirking.

The combination of his golds showing and the way his chain hung around his neck as he bosses her around had Y/N going crazy. Reaching under her she gripped his balls massaging them to help him get there. Putting her kegal exercises to work she squeezed her walls when she reached the tip and released reaching the bottom.

Erik’s tried backing out but Y/N followed him everywhere he went. “I want my nut daddy.” She mocked him flicking her tongue at him and bit her lip.

Erik’s lips went in a tight line as he felt her throwing her pussy on him. His eyes clenched shut when he felt the tip of his dick throbbing. He was there and she knew it. The sound of him sucking in air and his stomach becoming sunken in always gave him away. Erik met her thrust four times before filling her up with his seed. He waited until he was milked out before he slowly pulled out of her.

Y/N twerked as she laughed. Laying flat on her belly she looked behind her at her husband who had his hands on his head catching his breath.

“You tapping already?” Biting her lip she smiled holding her chin up with her hand.

Erik bent down kissing both ass cheeks.

“I ain’t tapping outta shit...we just getting started.”

________________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

This is my first request. I hope y’all like it!

Tag-list

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @curls-and-crosses @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose @ceeverse @smuttywriter @harleycativy @callmemckenzieee @theblulife @bvssmob @everything-is-awesomesauce @xoxomyaah @19jammmy @tchallas-ikumkani-wam @suburbanblackhoe @allhailqueennel @admirehermind @themeirajay @asaanime @bellanay @skylahb @toni9 @iambabyharry @kiabialia @youlovetkay @lahuttor @kehlaniswifee @childishgambinaax @readingaddict1290 @sociallyawkward18 @iamching07 @sourbabynaee @unholyxcumbucket

[angryschnauzer]

Jingle My Bells

Summary: Continuing my AU Rugby Teacher theme that was so brilliantly plot bunny’d by @feelmyroarrrr​, Henry finds himself bored at home having been put onto quarantine due to cases at the school he teaches at. With his school shutting early for the holidays, when his wife needs help at her school, she calls in his assistance for some festive fun... with some after hours fun for themselves too.

Pairing: AU Rugby Teacher Henry Cavill x Teacher Wife

Warnings: Bad Puns, NSFW, 18+, Established Relationship, Public/Risky Sex Workplace Sex, Henry dressed as Santa Claus (yes thats a warning in itself).

Gif by @littlefreya​ and used with her kind permission.

Previous Rugby Teacher Henry Ficlet.

Masterlist on AO3, and old fics can be found at @angryschnauzerwrites​. I don’t run a tag list.

Jingle My Bells

Henry was bored. Two weeks of quarantine after another faculty member had tested positive had meant he'd been confined to the house 24/7. Just as his test results had come back negative and his return to work for the last week of term had been scheduled, the high school had been notified that two students had come in contact with confirmed cases, so to cut their losses the board of governors had simply implemented end of term a week early.

And sure, Henry had done what he could to help keep himself busy; online gaming, World of Warcraft, hell; he'd even helped you mark homework for your primary school class. He cooked dinner for you so it was ready the moment you arrived home, and the house was the cleanest it'd ever been, but without you home with him he was just… bored.

"Just one more day, then its the end of term" you'd reassured him as you'd kissed him goodbye that morning, and he'd pulled you into his arms;

"Will you wear the elf outfit home tonight?"

"Oh, does someone have an elf kink?" You'd grinned and raised an eyebrow.

Henry lifted his hand to the little bells that were attached to your green knit dress;

"I kinda want to find out how i can make these jingle… i have some ideas…"

"Well you can fill my stockings after work, but i've got to go or i'll be late…" you pressed a kiss to his cheek; "Got to set up the area for Santa" 

With a groan your husband released you;

"Fine, but i want you to sit on my lap later"

-

Henry was standing at the fridge contemplating whether eating Babybell cheeses wrapped in Parma ham sandwiched between two slices of toast counted as lunch when his phone rang. Seeing your school's number on the display he was half curious and half worried, but visibly relaxed when he heard your voice;

"Hennn…." You purred

"Oh god… you only use that voice when you want something i won't like…"

"Are you free this afternoon?"

He sighed over dramatically;

"What do you need?"

"We need a Santa. The guy we booked was someone's grandad but he's been on the sherry and we had to send him home because he was slurring his speech and referred to the kids as 'crotch gobins'"

Henry let out a snort of laughter;

"I've met your class… some of them are…"

"Nevertheless… could you stand in? We've got the suit, and you've been quarantining for 3 weeks so are safe… pleeease…"

"Hmmmmnn"

"Hennn, please… i've got a thirty kids that still believe…"

Henry sighed;

"Okay… i'll be there in ten minutes"

“You’ll need to walk…there’s no space left in the staff car park”

He sighed;

“Okay, make it thirty minutes”

-

If there was an award for best/worst performance as Santa, Henry would have got it hands down. Putting on his best pantomime Brian Blessed voice, he'd Ho Ho Ho'd his way through the three youngest classes of wide eyed Little Ones that had thoroughly loved meeting Santa. When it had come to the older kids in the Junior years, generally 8 years old and above, he'd taken a different tactic, instead filing them out to the playground and if they could score a hoop through the Netball net, he'd deem them nice rather than naughty.

By the time hometime rolled around every single child had a smile on their face, excitedly rushing out to their parents waiting at the gate, pointing out Santa to their younger siblings sat in Pushchairs and Prams.

When you’d finally waved everyone off you made your way back to your classroom, the security door alert sounding as you entered the corridor, the hallways quiet where your colleagues had already packed up their stuff and left for the day. Henry trailed behind you, chattering away about what the kids had told him, shedding himself of the fake Santa beard and the scratchy jacket, leaving him wearing the hat, his plain black t-shirt, and the Santa trousers and boots. He flopped down into your chair as you busied yourself around the classroom, his feet up on your desk. 

Moving around him you stacked papers ready to be archived when he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you onto his lap;

“Come and sit on Santa’s knee”

Abandoning the papers you laughed as you settled on your husband's lap, turning to kiss him and the little bells on your dress jingled as you moved. The kiss went from chaste to needy in a matter of seconds, and you could feel Henry harden beneath your ass as you wriggled on his lap. His hand groped at your breasts through your dress as his lips started a trail along your chin and down your neck;

“Have you been naughty or nice this year?”

You wriggled on your lap;

“Oh I've been Naughty…”

Suddenly you were spinning as Henry fluidly moved to his feet, pushing you over your desk and stood behind you;

“Well i guess i’d better do something about that then” he pulled your dress up with a jingle of the bells attached and smoothed his hands over your ass, the green and white stripes of your tights framing your buttocks. With strong fingers he grasped the thin fabric and tugged, ripping a hole in them and letting out an appreciative grunt when he found you wearing a lace thong;

“You’ve been parading around in that little dress with this poor excuse for underwear beneath all day? You really have been a naughty girl” he purred in your ear as his fingers tugged the elastic aside.

You tried to move away, painfully aware of your location;

“Hen! We’re at school!”

“Shhh… the door alarm to the hallway will sound if anyone comes… so how about i make you cum before that happens, eh?”

His fingers had found your clit as he’d pushed his thumb into your velvet channel, and any further arguments were lost on your tongue as you sighed in pleasure;

“Hen, make it quick… the cleaners will be doing their rounds soon”

Looking over your shoulder you watched as Henry quickly shoved the Santa trousers and boxers down, his thick and meaty dick springing free where he was already rock hard and dripping with need;

“I’m gonna jingle your bells darling…” he positioned himself and quickly thrust in, making you gasp at the sudden stretch of it; “Gonna fill your stockings…”

“Tights” you corrected

“Same fucking thing” he grunted as he started to pound into you, the rhythmic thud of his efforts topped off with the delicate jingling of the bells on your dress. His hands moved and grabbed at your breasts, his breath hot and heavy against your ear as he filled you hard and fast from behind; “Want me to come down your chimney tonight?”

Grinning you turned your head;

“How about we save that for when we’re at home…?”

Henry paused, his eyes going wide when he realised you were agreeing to the one thing in your sex life you hadn’t tried yet, even after being married for a number of years and him dropping numerous hints;

“Really?”

“Well, i know you didn’t put it on your Christmas list but if a elf is gonna be naughty she might as well be naughty all the way…” you winked at him; “But you gotta hurry up now…”

With a grunt of determination he started to pound into you, one hand moving down your stomach and pushing between your legs, rubbing at your clit as he did his best to quickly bring you both to orgasm. Your moans started to get louder, and he clamped his other hand over your mouth as he started to feel you cuming, your body shaking and the loud thuds of his thrusts filling the room as your desk squeaked on the linoleum floor. With a grunt he thrust in deep and at the height of your orgasm you felt him flooding your womb with rope of his creamy seed, his massive hands pulling you to his chest as he buried his face in your neck whilst your cunt milked the last of his cum from his body. 

Breathless and glowing, you rested your head on Henry’s shoulder, your chest heaving before he carefully pulled out of you, pulling your underwear back into place as he tucked himself back into his boxers and Santa trousers. As you shimmied your dress back down you heard the thrumming of the floor polisher along the corridor, your eyes going wide before Henry turned you and rested his hands on your shoulders;

“C’mon, lets get home”

Taking a deep breath you smiled;

“Help be grab the last few bits then we can go”

Five minutes later you were stepping out of your classroom, Henry holding the large box of things you wanted to bring home for the holidays including your peace lily, pulling the door shut when you heard footsteps, turning to see the after hours cleaner;

“Night Mr Howell, have a good Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas Mrs Cavill…” he paused when he saw Henry standing next to you

“This is my Husband, he stood in as Santa today”

The old man nodded and smiled, carrying on with his mop as you walked in the opposite direction. Just as you got the security door you heard him starting to whistle, your eyes shooting up to meet Henry’s as you heard the tune;

‘Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the way…’

Henry wrapped his free arm around your shoulders;

“C’mon my naughtly little Elf, i’ll drive you home” he grinned at you; “Then we can see about that chimney of yours…”

You clenched at the thought, your body already tingling at the thought of it. And hey, if you were going to let your husband finally fuck your ass, at least you had the entire school holidays to recover.