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

[eden031]

First meetings

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Pairing: Jack Abbot x intern!female!reader

Warnings: angst, death, crack (a patient has a cola bottle in his rectum), Jack Abbot using dark humor to cope, mentions of porn (like once), some fluff at the end, patients being nosy, bad innuendo, the betting pool in the Pitt is going wild, medical inaccuracies, maybe a bit cringe worthy at some points (probably)

Summary: When an uneventful shift filled with bad humor and overheard conversations turns into something more tragic Jack makes sure that his intern doesn‘t break.

A/N: Listen people, I don‘t know what possessed me when I wrote this, it felt like a fever dream but we are moving in the right direction, I think. Please forgive me for the heavy angst in the end of this chapter, the beginning is very cracky and I honestly don‘t know why I wrote it, but it was fun to write and I had a good laugh while writing it sooo… Also this was barely proof read because I had to rewrite it like ten times.

“Alright, fifty bucks that they already fucked,” Ellis sounded way too enthusiastic about this for her to not stop and listen in on the conversation. Halting in the hallway just short of the door to the break room she continued to listen, an IPad for charting in hand.

“You seriously think so?” Olsen sounded mildly astonished at the high bet or maybe depending on who they were talking about the pairing and circumstance. Bets on the staff's personal life were common and she always found them to be rather interesting, already having won over five hundred dollars because she had bet on Nisa dating one of the day shift security guards for over two months.

“Yeah,” Ellis sounded annoyed, “You don’t know shit Olsen, you are always sick for the saucy moments.” Ellis snorted. Suppressing a giggle of her own she leaned against the wall, not wanting to disturb the two residents in their apparently heated discussion.

For a moment she looked around, trying to see if anyone was seeing that she was just standing in front of the break room being nosy. Luckily it was a quiet night and not that many people were running around.

It was fun listening in on these kinds of conversations then to guess who this was about. Right now she was not sure, thinking that maybe it could be about someone from day shift, she was not sure who else they would currently be betting on.

“I mean…” Olsen trailed off for a moment, like he was trying to prove that he still caught some interesting interactions, “I saw him basically hovering over her at some point,” he sounded mildly defeated.

“Yeah, that's why you bet that they knew each other before. I was there for the damn REBOA and had to witness an interaction that basically felt like some weird medical kink soft porn.” Ellis sounded so proud of placing her bet, for a moment she frowned. The only REBOA that had been placed in the last few weeks had been by her. Her brows furrowed, they were not talking about her, at least she hoped not.

“Jesus,” Olsen groaned. A pause, some clinking, probably mugs being shuffled around.

“Yeah, and he is totally looking at her boobs every time she comes up to talk to him. And checking out her ass every time she walks away.” Ellis’ voice was slightly more quiet this time as she spoke. “Never thought I would see Abbot looking at someone like a kicked puppy, but here we are,” a heavy sigh came from Ellis.

An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach, just hoping that they were not talking about her and Abbot, because if they were she would actually start questioning her own sanity. She had been so careful, trying to make sure that no one realised how badly the man affected her.

“But she is an intern, when do you propose they even met?” Olsen sounded almost offended as he spoke.

Deciding that she did not want to hear the rest of the conversation she started heading towards the nurses’ station again, the IPad clutched tightly against her chest. Her face felt hot as she placed it back on the rack, staring up at the board, looking for something she might actually be able to handle on her own for the moment. Humming softly she tapped her foot as she scanned the board, as her eyes found a patient with her name written next to it a pleased sigh escaped her lips.

Rubbing her forehead she glanced over to the room, Josie leaving it with a small smirk on her lips, head shaking. Grabbing a pair of gloves she started heading in the direction of the older nurse.

“Josie!” she called out, jogging towards the nurse. A smile on her face she nodded towards the room the patient was in.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” she grinned slightly as she saw the gloves in her hands.

“Did you get everything for Mr. Hill ready?” she asked as she nodded towards the room of the patient she had just assumed to be Mr. Hill.

“Yes,” she laughed, shaking her head, “If you are curious: this time it was a cola bottle,” Josie still shook her head slightly.

“I am assuming he fell on it while changing?” she asked carefully, having to suppress a laugh as she saw Josie roll her eyes.

“Of course he did, but at least he is in a good mood,” Josie shrugged, “At least in a better mood than most patients that come in during this hour,” she sighed, “I already gave him a low dose of muscle relaxant and set up everything you need to get that bottle out, just call me if you need any help,” the older nurse gently patted her on the shoulder.

“You are an angel,” she smiled as she walked over to the room, pressing open the glass door, then stepping behind the curtain. Mr. Hill was an elderly man, in his seventies, he was a widower, one of their regular patients in the ED at night and truly an angel. Even during a horrible shift Mr. Hill was able to put a smile on the faces of the people that treated him.

“Well good evening Mr. Hill,” she smiled as she greeted the man, a blanket was placed over his lower body and a bright smile already on his face.

“Good evening, darlin’! And how many more times do I have to tell you to call me Richard?” He gave her a glance that made her laugh, shaking her head she put on the gloves. Usually when she started working with a patient the events that had occurred previously washed from her mind and she was completely focused, though right now it felt like her mind was overshadowed by the conversation between Ellis and Olsen.

“Mind if I take a quick look?” she asked, pointing at the blanket, Mr. Hill laughed and nodded, already knowing the procedure. He propped up his legs, quickly she glanced under the blanket nodding slightly she put the blanket back down.

“Looks like it’s wedged in there pretty good,” she gave him a scolding look, she was not sure how many times they had already given him the talk of not putting certain objects in certain places. However, apparently he was not really listening to what they were telling him.

“Yes…” he trailed off for a moment while she grabbed the ultrasound to make sure that there was no internal bleeding.

“Are you alright darlin’?” He looked mildly concerned as she started prepping everything for the ultrasound.

“Of course, Mr. Hill,” she gave him a small smile, “Why wouldn’t I be?” she laughed putting some of the jelly on his belly, sitting down to perform the ultrasound. It startled her that he had realised that she was still a bit preoccupied with the conversation she had overheard.

“Well, I don’t know, maybe it has something to do with that pretty doctor of yours?” he wiggled his eyebrows at her. She only raised hers at that, moving the ultrasound over his belly while she looked at the screen.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Mr. Hill,” she laughed softly as she continued to check his abdomen. The issue with Mr. Hill was that for a man his age the man was perceptive, always seeing everything and almost being as informed on the gossip of the ED as Perlah and Princess.

“You know who I am talking about,” he wiggled his brow again, “I am old, not blind, I can see the way you look at the man,”

That made her pause in her movements, feeling heat rising to her neck and face. She tried to stay focused on the task at hand, finally having finished from all angles she started wiping away the jelly from the older man’s belly.

“I still don’t know what you are talking about, Mr. Hill,” she gave him a breathy laugh. “Good news is that I can’t see any bleeding right now, so you know the drill, bottle out, wait another hour or so, check for bleeding again, wait for the muscle relaxant to wear off and then you are free to go” she explained, trying to shift the topic of conversation away from the man in question.

As she was preparing to lube up the bottle the door opened and she heard a familiar pattern of footfalls approaching from behind her.

“Everything alright in here?” Abbot spoke in a gentle tone, she could feel him standing behind her, the warmth of his body hitting her back, though she knew he was not touching her. Glancing over her shoulder she felt her throat constrict slightly as she realised how close he actually was. He was hovering over her shoulder, looking at the bottle of lube in her hands.

“Splendid, Dr. Abbot.” A big grin came to the face of Mr. Hill. She sighed, shaking her head as she lifted the blanket slightly. Swallowing harshly she grabbed one of the tools and began distributing the lube around the cola bottle, thanks to the muscle relaxant this should be done fairly quickly.

“And your assessment?” Abbot asked, she could feel his burning gaze on her as she continued to work.

“Should be done in good time, though this time around I would wait a bit longer with the discharge since the cola bottle is not the usual caliber of…” she paused, knowing that theoretically everyone knew what Mr. Hill was up to with these things, but he never actually admitted to it. “Well, objects he falls on,” she cleared her throat. Continuing to distribute the lube around the bottle.

“Alright, Mr. Hill, I am leaving you in her capable hands,” Abbot sounded mildly amused, she heard him turn around.

“I bet you know best, Dr. Abbot” Mr. Hill sounded like he was teasing Abbot, she let out a choking sound as Abbot’s steps halted for a brief moment, before they continued. As she heard the door close she shook her head.

“You are impossible, Mr. Hill,” she shook her head, carefully grabbing the part of the bottle that was luckily still on the outside. She gave him a look, “You know the drill.” she spoke, feeling the bottle move slightly, she pulled on it carefully, trying to apply too much stress.

“I simply told him that he knows what’s best,” he winked at her, speaking in a break from the gentle pushes. She held onto the bottle, they had already been able to get it over the enlargement. It would only be a bit more before it would be easier again.

“You know very well what you did there,” she gave him an annoyed glare. Within the next few moments the bottle was freed and she placed it on the tray.

“Alright, Mr. Hill, how are you feeling?” she asked as she started taking off the gloves, scooting backwards.

“Much better, thank you, dear,” he gave her a small smile. As she got up from the chair she gave him a smile.

“A nurse will be in to check on you soon, in an hour I will do another ultrasound to make sure that there is no bleeding.” she explained. “Also if you feel any lightheadedness or discomfort press the call button so someone can come and check on you, alright?”

“Yes, yes, I know how this works,” he gave her a smile as she left the room, shaking her head as she headed back to central. Mr. Hill had his nose up in everyones business, he knew everything and everyone, sometimes she wondered who his inside source on the hot ED gossip was, usually she would say it was one of the nurses, but it could really be anyone, especially of the night shift where everyone was kept awake by gossip, coffee and spite.

“So,” Josie slipped up beside her, the older nurse looking curious, “How did everything go with Mr. Hill?” she asked.

“Everything went well. I think the man should stop with these shenanigans, but otherwise I think he should be fine. There was no bleeding when I checked and there was also no blood on the bottle, so I just hope that he will be okay.” she sighed. “And he of course has his nose in everybody’s business,” she sighed, shaking her head as she rubbed her face.

“Ahh” Josie laughed slightly, “While on the topic of being in everybody’s business, I know it is none of mine, but mind telling me why Tommy’s been in such a good mood lately?” leaning against the counter Josie grinned slightly.

A snort left her lips as she nodded, a small smirk growing on her lips.

“Yeah, cause he is getting laid,” she answered, a loud clicking sound came from behind her, though she did not turn around, probably just something that had fallen over.

“Seriously?” Josie raised her brow, “Who is the lucky lady? Or lucky lad?” She continued to pry.

“Yeah, seriously. Tommy finally made a move on Maise, I felt like the pining was going to crush me every time I walked into a room with the two of them.” she shuddered lightly, shaking her head. A small smile on her lips as she thought about the fact that her friends were really happy together. Josie snorted slightly as she shook her head.

“While talking about pining…” before Josie was able to finish her question Bridgit shouted from the middle of the nurses’ station.

“We got an incoming hit and run victim, ETA 3 minutes,” her voice carried through the ED.

“Shit,” she muttered as she grabbed a pair of gloves from one of the boxes, Abbot walked past her, already heading for trauma 1.

“Come on!” he half turned as she hurried along with him, grabbing disposable gowns from one of the dispensers she put them on, he tied her gown, she tied his, Olsen also joined them, already wearing his as well. Turning slightly she saw a bunch of nurses getting trauma 1 ready for the incoming patient. They headed outside to the ambulance bay, the patient being loaded off the ambulance as they arrived, she was already intubated, they were bagging her. A young woman, about her age, hair matted from the blood, makeup smeared as they pushed her inside. The EMT rattled off data as they placed her on the gurney in the trauma bay.

Pulling out a light pen she checked the pupil again, the EMT had reported that pupils had been reactive right after arrival, though they were sluggish.

“Extremely delayed pupil reaction,” she reported as she glanced over at the monitor, the blood pressure of the young woman was dropping rapidly.

“Shit,” Olsen muttered as he squeezed some of the jelly on the abdomen of the young woman, moving the ultrasound over her stomach. She put on the stethoscope, listening to the woman’s lungs.

“Good breath sounds on her right side, left almost no breath sounds,” she reported as she pulled off the stethoscope. Olsen moved the ultrasound up and towards the lungs.

“Hemothorax,” he simply said, cursing under her breath she looked over at Abbot who watched them work.

“Prepare to place a chest tube,” Abbot looked at her, she nodded and started to get to work, the shirt had already been cut. Around them the nurses were working relentlessly, quickly she prepared everything for the chest tube, Abbot walked around the table, standing beside her.

“You know what you have to do,” he simply said, she had already placed a chest tube under his supervision a few times in the time she had worked on the night shift. Moving quickly she made the incision, then placed the chest tube, the drainage began.

“Oxygen is going up, blood pressure is still dropping,” someone in the room announced. Olsen cursed as he moved the ultrasound around.

“Looks like a torn spleen,” he squinted as he continued to move the ultrasound head, “And torn liver, shit,”

Abbot stepped around so he could look at the ultrasound, an unhappy grunt left his lips as he shook his head.

“Alright, let’s try to stabilize her so that we can get her up to surgery ASAP,” he ordered, they gave her meds to try and stabilize her blood pressure along with more blood. As she looked up she saw Ellis and Shen running towards another patient being wheeled in from the ambulance bay, a little boy that looked incredibly pale. Tearing her gaze away from the boy she focused on getting this patient stable. Suddenly the weak but steady beeping went into a long single tone.

“She’s flatlining,” one of the nurses shouted. She moved quickly, starting chest compressions. The feeling of breaking ribs during CPR was bad, though this was somehow worse, CPR on already broken ribs that crunched with every push.

“Push an epi,” Abbot barked at one of the nurses. After what felt like hours Abbot took her place, another epi, then a pulse check, no pulse. Abbot was replaced by Olsen, another epi, they circled back to her, ribs cracking beneath the pushes. The nurse at the head of the bed continued to push the bag, for some reason watching the motion of the bag during CPR was calming. Another epi, another pulse check, still nothing to shock. More blood was being pushed, another check, Abbot stepped in.

“Check her pupils again,” he told her, she did. Her heart sank as she shone the light into the eyes of the woman.

“No pupil reaction bilaterally, both pupils blown” she reported. Abbot mumbled something she didn’t understand, looking at Tara who was bagging the woman to get an idea of what he might have said, she also just shrugged. Another epi was pushed, Olsen took over, at some point another pulse check. Still nothing to shock. This was starting to look hopeless. She wasn’t sure how long they were going at it, how much blood and how many epi’s they pushed. Suddenly there was something at the next pulse check, they shocked, and the heartbeat was back. Barely there, like it was only hanging on by a threat, then it was gone again.

Cursing they started over, she was really not sure how much time passed, but the chance of stabilizing that woman was almost zero, too much blood loss from the torn spleen and liver, the hemothorax, a large and thick bruise on her leg suggesting bleeding in her leg. Her hands pressed into her chest, sweat dripping down her back as she continued the CPR, a LUCAS would have been impossible with the mangled arm of the poor woman. It felt like time was flying by and slowing down simultaneously.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” Abbot’s voice cut through the haze of CPR, beeping and orders being called. “Stop compressions,” slowly she stopped, stepping back from the gurney, her heart hammering in her chest as she stared at the young woman laying on the bed. Her long blonde hair matted with blood, the long steady tone of the heart monitor.

Abbot called time of death, one of the nurses pulled a blanket over the body of the woman, taking a shaky breath she pulled the gloves from her hands. Everyone else doing the same, a solemn silence hung over them.

“Hurry up everyone,” Bridgit called out as she opened the door, “There are six other patients coming in via ambulance. All from a car wreck.” That set everyone in motion again, they pulled off the gowns, the woman was moved out of the trauma bay, probably in one of the rooms. She hurried around, getting a new gown and a new pair of gloves. Shen and Ellis looked like crap as they all met in the ambulance bay.

People were being brought in, apparently one of the victims died on scene, trachea slices through, drowned on his own blood, two were heavily wounded and the other three had moderate to mild injuries.

“Shen, Ellis you take the one with the head injury,” Abbot called out as the EMT’s began wheeling in the injured. “Olsen I need you to fix up these three, then come join us in trauma 1,” he looked at her, “We will take the other guy,” she nodded, emotionally preparing herself for maybe another loss.

This time everything blurred together a lot more. Blood everywhere, two open, displaced femur fractures that were bleeding so badly that the EMT’s had to put a tourniquet on them. The man was heavily sedated already, apparently he had been screaming and thrashing around when the EMT’s arrived. At least that was something. They moved quickly, he stopped breathing, they intubated the man. He started seizing, they gave him something to stop it so they could continue to work. Then another long beeping tone, Olsen joined them as that happened.

CPR started, her mind starting to play the Bee Gee’s ‘Stayin’ alive’ as she started compressions. It blended everything else out, the switch, she stood there, watching, waiting. Time seemed to slow as their attempt to revive the man continued. She was not sure how long they went on. Then another call, another time of death was announced.

The room began to empty, nausea settled in her stomach as she stared at the bloodied gloves. Two people were gone, from what she could guess the little boy had not made it, the patient with the head trauma also didn’t make it. Though from what she had picked up he had coded quicker than their guy.

Pulling off the gloves and the gown she headed to the bathroom, splashing her face with cold water. This was not how this shift was supposed to end, this was not how this day was supposed to start. She shook her head, taking a shaky breath. It had been a quiet shift, the kind of shift most people enjoyed, the kind of shift why people worked the night shift. Leaning against the sink she closed her eyes, feeling her head hammering, the exhaustion of probably almost three hours CPR catching up to her. Slowly she made her way out of the bathroom, hearing agitated voices from the nurses’ station.

“I swear I will never say it again!” Shen shouted. Glancing over she could see Ellis staring him down with an angry expression on her face. Everything around her was spinning and it felt like the sigh of the young woman her age on that table haunted her. Blood was pounding in her ears as she made her way towards central, trying to not let it show how exhausted she was.

“You fucking say that all the time! And every single time it ends in a disaster!” Ellis shouted back. It looked like everyone was on edge right now. Taking a shaky breath she thought that she should maybe eat something. Turning around she made her way towards the break room. Grabbing a granola bar from the counter she collapsed into a chair.

“Are you doing okay?” his voice was gentle, it came from in front of her. Glancing up she saw Abbot standing there, a solemn expression on his face.

“Not really,” her voice cracked, trying to hold in the tears as she looked at him. He looked at her. Slowly she opened the granola bar with shaking hands.

“Are you gonna share that with the elderly?” he asked, a hint of humour in his tone. She stared at him, she wanted to laugh, she really did but all that came out was a choked half sob half laugh as she broke it in two pieces handing him one.

“Thanks,” he began munching on the granola bar. She watched him for a moment, he looked up from the bar in his hand.

“You did great tonight,” his eyes locked with hers, his expression serious, though there was a deep concern etched into it. “Except for the part where you almost lost your pants,” his voice was teasing, another choked laugh escaped her. During the hit and run victim she had almost lost her pants while doing CPR, though Nisa had caught on and pulled them up, she had thought he hadn’t seen.

“Thanks,” she sniffled slightly, trying to compartmentalise, still it was hard. Death was never easy, it was never easy to accept. “And thank you for being the rock in the chaos of this ED,” she whispered softly. That made his expression shift slightly.

“My therapist thinks it’s the only time my brain quiet’s down,” he pauses, carefully moving his hand, he holds it out, palm up. “I hope that it won’t be the only time that it quiets down for the rest of my life,”

Staring at the offered hand for a moment she hesitated, not sure if she should accept, but the moment her hand met his it felt like she was anchored to this place, to this moment, not somewhere else, not back in the trauma bay, no right there, right at that moment, sharing a granola bar with Jack.

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Tags:

@antisocialfiore @fudosl @smileykiddie08 @darksparklesficrecs

[treacheryinblue]

「 ON DISPLAY 」 noah sebastian ⨯ f!reader

▷ chapter one

noah is your neighbor and your new favorite view thanks to his lack of curtains. you're pretty sure he prefers it this way. but the man you've created in your imagination is nothing like reality and you soon find yourself falling prey to a past lifestyle you had been desperately on the run from. trigger warnings : language, eventual smut, violence, mention/flashbacks of abuse, alcohol and drug use, sexual harassment/assault (nongraphic). word count : 6.2k comment to be added to the tag list for future chapters!

masterlist

“Goddamn. This apartment just got so much better.”

Your mouth fell agape after you followed your best friend’s gaze until you were both staring across to the window opposite of yours. With only a narrow walkway separating the two apartment buildings, it gave you a perfect view into the curtainless home. 

A man stood in the living room, shirtless, his torso of tattoos on display for you to gawk at. Your eyes trailed the bits of bare skin slowly, pausing just where his black athletic shorts sat low on his hips. He was doing some stretches that you immediately recognized as yoga poses. Not your workout of choice but who were you to judge when your breakfast that morning had been a stale bag of Doritos? 

“Fuck…I didn't know yoga could be so hot.” 

Both you and Melinda - Mel - took synchronized steps closer before kneeling onto your couch, elbows resting on the back ledge for comfort. 

“Should we be watching him like this? I mean…doesn't it make us kinda creepy?”

Mel shrugged, her palms shifting to cradle her chin as she stared adoringly at your way too hot neighbor. “Nah, it's fine. It would only be creepy if he was watching you work out.”

“Sounds a little hypocritical.” 

“He's the one half naked in front of an open window!” She motioned dramatically to the lack of coverings on the floor to ceiling windows of his apartment. “He's asking to be watched.” 

With a roll of your eyes you could only laugh, head shaking at your friend. You weren't going to touch on that specific topic with her because Mel could be rather sensitive at times. The last thing you needed after enduring the stress of moving was to have a petty argument break out. 

“Shit, I gotta go. I'd love to sit and watch this absolutely stunning show all day, but Madam Roslyn needs her brat’s dry cleaning.”

Your nose scrunched at the mention of Mel's boss. She used the term ‘Madam’ in mockery towards the horrid woman, although that's how Roslyn preferred to be addressed. She clearly didn't view it as laughable as the rest of the city did when referring to a millionaire with two ridiculously evil twins. 

“Tell Satan and Lucifer ‘hi’ for me.” 

“You do know that's pretty redundant, right?”

“Yeah, but I don't care. It gets my point across.” You waved her off with a motion of your hand before bringing the same hand to your lips to blow a kiss in her direction. 

“Bye, bitch! Let me know if you go fuck your neighbor!” 

The request didn't even warrant a response because of how unlikely that scenario actually was. Mel knew this too. She had begged you on many occasions to go out and 'stretch your legs' again aka spread them for whatever guy looked your way at a bar, and each time you did exactly the opposite. That wasn't a mistake you were going to make again. Too many scars still lingered from last time – physical and mental. 

After Mel securely closed your front door you allowed your attention to shift back out the window. Although this time when you looked out a pair of eyes were staring back at you. His hands were on his hips, his breathing slightly labored, both of you holding the other's gaze for a beat too long. Your eyes widened and you froze as you were caught in the act, but the guy only did what you could assume was a laugh from so far away, his hand then lifting in a slight wave. 

You dropped down to your couch suddenly so you were no longer visible. Your heart hammering away violently within your chest. Dammit. How fucking awkward. 

X X X 

Days were long and the nights even longer. You had managed to pick up a couple of jobs to help ease the financial burden of moving despite the hefty amount of cash stashed away beneath a pried up floorboard in your closet. It wasn't the greatest hiding place but you didn't want to risk such a large sum of money randomly going into your bank account. You feared it would trigger an alert of sorts to those you were better off without. The feeling of having to hide was exhausting and you wished more than anything that things didn't have to be this way. 

If only you had been smarter. Less naive. Not so gullible. 

You yawned as you kicked your shoes off after a tiring day of being a personal errand girl for an old man that simply went by Red. Mel had helped you get the job through her connections with Madam Roslyn and the man reminded you of your grandfather when he had been alive and well. It was an opportunity you hadn't been able to pass up. The pay was decent and he was kind enough to give you the main holidays and most weekends off. What more could you ask for in the bustling city? 

Unfortunately, his generous pay still wasn't enough to keep you afloat and comfortable in your new life. Never would you go back to skipping meals or clinging to someone because of the way they ‘took care’ of you. You were determined to do it on your own. 

“Shauna said you can get a job with her!” 

There was a fury of noise in the background of wherever Mel was, leading you to believe she had agreed to stay later with Madam Roslyn’s little terrors. Thank god you had gotten a better deal with Red’s assistant gig. Mouthy children were not your forte. 

“The Shauna who works at that one club? The one with black velvet walls?” 

“Wait…how big are your tits?” 

You paused from tugging your shirt off to look at the phone as if your best friend could see your expression from across the city. Your unamused face was from both her knack of ignoring your questions and also asking some ridiculous ones of her own. 

“Okay, whatever, doesn't matter. You're hot and have a nice ass.” Mel quickly covered as if her question hadn't caused hundreds of others to arise. 

“What the hell kind of job is this? But I can't leave Red anyway, not after he talked to me all day today about how his grandkids never visit anymore. Shit is depressing.” You scurried around your room while changing into your comfortable attire for the evening. Oversized tee, pajama shorts, and fuzzy socks. It didn't matter what time of the year it was because your feet were always freezing. 

“That's the beauty of it!” Mel squealed in delight from the other end of the call. “It's a nighttime gig. I think she said she goes in around eight and gets off at two –”

“In the morning?!” 

“I know you aren't worried about getting your beauty rest. I've seen you party all night and rally for work with fifteen minutes of sleep on the bus.” 

Okay, she had you there. You were the queen of functioning with little to no sleep. It was both a blessing and a curse. 

“Maybe. I guess. I'll have to see what kind of availability I'd be able to give.” 

With one hand carrying your phone and the other clutching a box of crackers, a pack of cheese tucked into your elbow, you came to an abrupt halt in front of your couch. Right across the currently empty sidewalk was your hot neighbor…naked…with a girl pressed against the glass. Her back was to you and her legs wrapped securely around his hips, that of which were currently ricocheting between her thighs at a rapid pace. Your eyes widened, the words you had been about to speak to Mel dying on your tongue to leave nothing but the sound of her trying to grab your attention. 

“Hello? Helloooo?” 

“He's fucking a girl right now.”

“What? Who? Oh my god! Hot neighbor?!” 

You nodded, and even though Mel couldn't see you she still erupted in excitement as if she was standing right beside you and witnessing the act as well. 

“What does she look like? Is she hot too? I bet he bags all the tattooed baddies.” 

“All I can see is the back of her head and her ass, Mel. I don't know.” 

The phone in your hand was set down after you switched it to speaker, your “girl dinner” also dropping to the couch to be tended to in a few. You were frantically trying to close your curtains to give him some privacy whether he wanted it or not, but your sudden movements must've somehow garnered his attention. 

Just as you were about to fully close your curtains his head tilted in your direction, your eyes meeting again just as they had a few days prior, but this time over the unaware girl’s shoulder. And just like then, you froze. His thrusts slowed to a pace that you just knew had to be agonizingly torturous, though you could tell by the rippling of the girl's ass that he was still being rather rough. A faint smirk tugged at his lips…or what you assumed was a smirk due to the distance between your windows. No, you were pretty sure he was smirking at you. Had he even been waiting for you to appear and see the show? 

Okay, so hot neighbor was smug as hell. You couldn't say you were surprised by that. Just the eye contact you two held was enough to drive a warmth through the entirety of your body, more specifically right between your thighs. A chill even radiated down your spine despite your flushed skin and you briefly found yourself wondering what it was like to currently be that girl pressed against his window. 

“Flash your tits! Maybe he’ll invite you over to join!” 

“Melinda!” You hissed, the screech of the curtains finally coming together to block out the scene interrupting your scolding. 

“Fuck. This guy has got to get some blinds or something.” 

Later that night while in bed, your hand had drifted down between your thighs to help ease the tension that had grown rather quickly all thanks to that damned smirk. 

X X X 

There were times when you were alone that you let your thoughts get the best of you. Your overthinking had become less and less controlled until it ate you up, leaving your cuticles in tatters and the constant sound of your foot tapping against the hardwood floor had become the soundtrack of your life. You were terrified constantly. There were so many things that could go wrong that you were truly just waiting for the pin to drop because you knew it would eventually, it was just a matter of when. 

When would you be found? When would you make the single dumb decision that would change your life forever? When would you end up six feet under at the hands of the people you were once involved with? 

Living with these thoughts day to day wasn't healthy. You knew this. You didn't need to pay some $500 an hour specialist to recite the obvious, nor did you need to sit around in a circle and reveal your deepest thoughts to strangers in a support group that only had fake sympathies to offer. This was something you could handle on your own, or so you liked to constantly remind yourself. If your past had told you anything, it was that you couldn't rely on anyone but yourself anyway. 

You took in a deep breath, held it, and then slowly exhaled while counting backwards from ten. The trick didn't work as well as it used to but you were still hopeful with every attempt. It was your first day off in over a week and while your body desperately needed the rest, your brain was still going a million miles a minute. There was a bottle of overpriced wine you had yet to touch that was living in your fridge, that of which could easily take the worries away, but you resisted. That was only a temporary fix. 

As you shifted your position on the couch for the first time in two hours, you couldn't stop your gaze from drifting out the window. Most of the time he was never there, obviously off living his life to the fullest and unconcerned about you, the strange woman who creepily watched him. But much to your surprise, there he sat. He appeared to be alone from the glimpse you took, his long body spread out on his couch in a mimic of your own. Maybe he felt your eyes on him or maybe he had been curious about you as well because after only a couple of seconds his head lifted and angled perfectly for where you sat.

Like every time before, he didn't shy away from your stare. You decided to follow his lead and not look elsewhere either. You could even feel the faintest smile appearing over your lips, a friendly acknowledgement that you saw him and also saw him seeing you.

Hot neighbor’s eyebrows pulled together slightly and his head nodded upwards, a curious expression working over his features. You figured he wanted to know what you were doing, so you promptly lifted your book so he could see the spread pages. It wasn't like he had to know that you hadn't flipped a single one in a good hour. He nodded, his face now reading as impressed. A brief moment later and he was exchanging the same information with you, allowing you to see the notebook and pen held within his hands. A writer? How interesting. 

It was amazing what could be communicated without words. 

Long, drawn out seconds later, you both returned to your own lives, but you still occasionally found yourself glancing to his curtainless window. 

X X X 

“H-O-T-T-O-G-O! You can take me hot to go!” You loudly sang with the group crowded into your apartment, all of you tossing your hands up along with the lyrics in the way Chappell Roan had bestowed upon you. 

Surely you would get a fine for being so loud but you and Captain Morgan couldn't care less. At that moment you were having the time of your life for the first time in months and that's what was important to you. Not work. Not the dark cloud looming over your head. Nothing but having the best fucking time before reality set in. 

Mel danced up against you as you ground your hips into Dean, one of your other friends who always had the best manicures and didn't know what a “full length shirt” was. If he wasn't showing off his abs then what was the point of life? All his words. 

“Order up, I'm hot to goooo!” You tossed your hair around and dragged your hands along the length of your body, paying special attention to your chest and hips - both of which were accentuated in the dress you wore. 

How had you ever thought throwing a “house warming” party would be a bad idea? God, sober you was such a fucking drag sometimes. Parties were fun as hell and you made a silent pledge to yourself right then to have them more. 

As your fingertips dragged along your thighs, hiking the hem of your dress up a bit in the process, you felt your body becoming abnormally warm. Alcohol always made you flush but this was a different sensation, one that had only recently become known to you. You wanted to look around your apartment because you would've sworn he was in the same room as you, simply watching you dance and have a good time. No way could his stare be this powerful from all the way in the apartment building opposite of yours. 

But alas, you were wrong. 

Your glitter dusted eyes drifted to your window where twinkling lights had been hung. You could just barely make out the image of his silhouette across the walkway, one hand in his pocket as the other arm rested against the glass above his head. Thanks to his eyes acting like actual fingers, you didn't need to question the possibility of what he was focused on. You could feel every trace along your heated skin.

Although he was a distance away, you were imagining that he was right across the room. Watching you. Devouring you. Dean wandered off to join a duo he excitedly greeted as they walked in, leaving the front of your body on full display for hot neighbor. Your hips continued to sway while your hands trailed along your body, one paying special attention to your breasts as the other slowly lowered back down to where the short hem of your dress rested at the top of your thighs. You imagined him licking his lips and raising his eyebrows for you to continue, silently challenging you to put on more of a show for him. 

It didn’t matter how many people were in your apartment and could see you because everything you did in that moment was for him and only him. 

Ever so slowly your fingers dipped beneath your dress to trace along your inner thigh to tease him, and also yourself in the process. You didn't think it was possible for his gaze to become even heavier but you swore it drank you in and swallowed you up. The hand on your chest pushed up against your breast and your fingers dug into the ample flesh, threatening to tug the fabric down and bare yourself to him. Every inch of your body was aflame, your nerves screaming to be touched by his heavily tattooed hands you had daydreamed of on more than one occasion. 

You had no idea what it was about this man that had you in such a chokehold. Everything about him was unknown to you, yet you still craved him. Maybe even more than you had ever desired anyone before. 

The sound of your name being repeated pulled you from your trance until you had no choice but to rip your gaze from his. The music blasting through your apartment came flooding back in and you were suddenly aware of where you were again, as well as all the people surrounding you. Thankfully it didn't seem as if anyone had noticed your little bout of hypnosis. 

“We need towels!” Mel was calling to you from over the music, motioning towards the kitchen where an obnoxiously drunk guy appeared to have knocked over an entire bottle of Tito’s Vodka. The liquor was puddled on the floor, shards of glass glistening in the liquid it previously housed. 

“Son of a bitch,” you grumbled before yelling back to Mel an explanation of where she could find some spare towels. Maybe you should've gone to clean it up yourself since you were the host but you were eager to get back to the eye fucking you had been participating in with hot neighbor. Unfortunately, when you looked back through the large windows, his apartment was empty. 

X X X

“I feel so ridiculous,” you murmured to yourself beneath your breath, following the statement up with a heavy sigh. For the tenth time you tugged at the tiny black skirt you had been provided to wear, the hem riding up your ass and cupping your cheeks in a suggestive yet desirable way. Maybe Mel had been right when she said you had a nice ass. Too bad it had taken your physical discomfort for you to realize this. 

A blonde woman that appeared to be a few years older than you glanced your way with a snarky grimace, her eyes then rolling after taking you in. You tried not to pay any attention to her as you adjusted the straps of your top, as well as your breasts that were popping out. You had been told to wear your best bra, which you had, and now you could see why the request had been made. The uniforms at Nocturnal left very little to the imagination, but at least you were still wearing clothes. 

You couldn't say as much for the red head that was sauntering around the dressing room with her tits out without a care in the world. Damn. How were you supposed to get that amount of confidence? It wasn't that you were insecure, but being in the sort of relationship you had previously had definitely done a number on your mental state. You had been conditioned to believe that showing your body for anyone but him was one of the biggest sins. Amongst many other things but you had been trying very hard not to allow your thoughts to drift to those dark places. Something as simple as a v-neck t-shirt had earned you a reprimand on more than one occasion. 

“You're the new girl, yeah?” The attitude-filled blonde questioned while swiping eyeliner along her lower lash line. You glanced at her through the mirror you stood before, responding with only a slight nod. Her eyes looked you up and down again, a throaty laugh following her heavy gaze. “They're just going to looove you. New meat.” 

“Shut the hell up, Charlotte. Why do you always have to be so catty with the new ones?”

Shauna came strutting into the room at just the right time to prevent you from making an enemy on day one. She stood at your side, one hand on her curvy hip, the other resting upon your bare shoulder. The snarky blonde that you now knew as Charlotte simply rolled her eyes in the same exaggerated fashion again, a manicured hand waving in dismissal to Shauna. 

“Don't mind her,” Shauna leaned in a bit closer to you as if she was telling a secret but the volume of her voice never lowered. “She's just bitter because she doesn't get good tips anymore after her botched boob job. She's scared you'll take all of King’s attention. Not like she ever really had it to begin with.” 

You couldn't stop yourself from laughing despite your attempt to stifle it. Charlotte shot a glare at you, her fist tightening around her curling iron that she was using to touch up portions of her hair. 

“Oh, please. She's clearly not experienced enough to draw his eye. I'm not worried.” 

“Who's King?” You looked back and forth between the two women, your confusion beyond evident. Charlotte again chuckled, her tongue swiping over her plump lips while giving Shauna a look that read as 'seriously?’. 

“As I said, I'm not worried.” 

“So grouchy,” Shauna whispered while giving your shoulder a squeeze. You couldn't help but to notice how they both ignored your question. “But you look amazing! I knew you'd fit right in around here.” 

“What did she mean by all of that? Who's going to love me?” As far you knew, this was supposed to be a simple waitressing gig at a club. Sure, there was a room towards the back that housed the nude dancers but you had made it very clear that wasn't going to be your area. 

Shauna smiled kindly at you, soft laughter emitting from her. “She probably just meant the regulars,” she explained as she took your hand and began to lead you out of the dressing room. “They're the best tippers and are always on a first name basis with the girls. A few can get a little handsy but they know the servers are off limits. They have to go to the back rooms for that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in further confusion but you didn't dare voice your questions. While you weren't naive when it came to this sort of “scene”, you also weren't well versed in it. All you really knew was what you had seen from movies and read in your books, as well as the conversations you'd eavesdrop in on between your ex and his pals. Never did you think you'd actually be a part of any of it. 

Shauna dragged you along to the bar off to the side. The music was loud enough that you couldn't even hear yourself think, so you had no idea how you were supposed to take drink orders in this place. Bodies were already piled in, all of them dancing and swaying to the music, tabletops filled with those enjoying the scenery and atmosphere. Nothing too out of the ordinary so far in comparison to waitressing jobs in the past. Those had been at family friendly restaurants, but how different could it really be? 

“I'm going to start you off with a couple of lower tables, okay? Only until you get the hang of it.” Shauna had her mouth close to your ear as she explained things, aiding in your inability to read her lips well enough. 

“I'm just taking drink orders, right? It can't be too bad.” You shrugged, a notepad and pen now in your grasp that she had passed your way. Shauna side eyed you with a smile and a slow nod of her head, silently communicating that she wasn't too sure about that. 

“Only thing you really need to know is that you've gotta smile and be friendly! These guys aren't dropping hundreds of dollars to be served by a witch with a stick up her ass. No matter how nice it may be. They like attention and thinking they have a shot with you, even though they have zero chances.” Shauna’s laughter continued as her eyes traveled along what appeared to be business men along the opposite side where the more private booths were located. “But like you said, it can't be too bad, yeah?” 

Oh, how wrong you had been. Only a couple of hours in and your feet were already aching, your black top damp and chest sticky from the drink you had recently spilled on yourself, and your frustrations were rising by the minute. It didn't help that Charlotte had decided to steal one of your main tables, leaving you with only one, as well as a couple of small bar tops. Despite your overwhelmed demeanor, the club never stopped filling. More and more bodies pressed together and you swore the music had also been cranked higher, the lights dimmed red to further set the vibe. Fuck, you were going to crash and burn on only your first night. 

“Hey!” A whistle garnered your attention, your head quickly turning to the bartender whose name you still hadn't caught. “Can you take these to VIP?” He slid a couple of glasses your way and then began to take the order of another patron before you could even reply. Your mouth opened and closed in an attempt to explain that you weren't serving VIP that night. You didn't even know where the hell VIP was. 

“Up those steps and to the right!” The same red head from the dressing rooms earlier sauntered by you while carrying a tray of empty glasses that she quickly disposed of and replaced with fresh drinks. She was no longer naked, instead adorned in the same uniform as every other waitress. 

“I��Shauna told me to stay on the lower levels,” you tossed back nervously, shaking your head. 

“Look, we're swamped! Just take the drinks up and then I'll take VIP again after I drop these off. Easy!” Then, just like the bartender, the red head was disappearing before you could respond. 

You looked at the drinks, the winding stairs that lead to the VIP level, and then back to the drinks. The glasses were already starting to sweat so you knew you had a narrow window before they became too watered down. With a deep breath, you snatched up the drinks and strutted towards the steps with as much confidence as your exhausted limbs could muster. Which, honestly, wasn't much. 

One step was cautiously taken after another, the music fading the higher you ascended. You sighed in relief when your ability to hear just yourself again resurfaced and you suddenly realized why VIP was so sought after by all the waitresses. You knew it couldn't be solely because of the tips you were likely to secure. It was also the peace of mind. 

VIP was darker than the lower levels because the lights shifting through the space never angled correctly to douse it in much color. You figured this was done with a purpose. The back perimeter was lined with black leather sectionals, glass tables centered in front of each one, and there was a railing that allowed patrons to overlook the lower level. Since this wasn't a very party-heavy area, you couldn't help but to assume it's where business took place. You had been in spaces like this many times before finding your way to this city. The thought made you uneasy because “business” sometimes meant paperwork and meetings, but it could also mean something more violent. 

Three men sat off to the right, two of them smoking cigars while the other fidgeted with something in his hand. A coin, by the looks of it. Silence overtook them when one noticed you, his eyes immediately raking over your body. It felt nothing like it did when hot neighbor did the same. Both were strangers but there was something about this particular unknown man you didn't care for. He was older, which wasn't the problem, it was more so the dead look in his eyes. 

“My sincerest apologies for the delay, gentleman,” you smiled while laying it on thick. 

“Where's Dana?” 

The man to the right spoke up, his disdain towards you quite obvious. You figured Dana was the red head you had spoken to at the bar, or so you were going to safely assume. “She’s briefly tied up with another table. She'll be right back with you. Until then, can I get you anything else?” You forced a smile, the sweetest possible in the moment. 

“Yeah,” the same rude man took a swallow from his drink and then motioned for you to step closer. “Come here. I haven't seen you before. I'd remember.” 

There was no hesitation in your motions as you closed the space between yourself and the man, no matter how uneasy he made you. Nothing had happened to make you believe he was outwardly dangerous, although you could see right through him. You knew he was the type that liked to destroy others. It was written in his eyes and the $20,000 watch hanging from his wrist. 

“What's your name?” 

Shit. Shauna had told you earlier to make up an alias for yourself and you had been too caught up with actually working that you had forgotten. She explained it was for safety but also because it could be fun to play someone else. You didn't tell her you were already doing as much and it wasn't nearly as fun as the club assumed. 

“Genevieve,” you slowly drawled. The name of your late grandmother. Oh how she’d get a kick out of this. 

The man smirked through a cloud of smoke, his lifeless eyes again looking you up and down. “Genevieve. How beautiful.” He was suddenly reaching out for you, his hand grasping your wrist to pull you closer. Keeping a hold of your wrist, he set his drink aside to free the other so he could grope along your hip and down the side of your exposed thigh. You softly gasped in shock but you didn't jerk away like your mind was screaming at you to do. Instead you stood frozen, fear shuddering through your veins. 

“Hasn't the boss and his right hand already warned you about touching the servers?” One of the other men laughed as if you were nothing more than an object for their enjoyment. In their eyes that's exactly what you were. 

Dead Eyes kept his focus on you, his rough fingertips still trailing your thigh. “Fuck the boss and his little bitch boy. What's his name? King? Kid thinks he runs this place.” 

Tears threatened to well in your eyes but you refused to let your fear show. That's what men like these wanted. They craved to feel the power they held over others, but especially women. It made them feel special in their minuscule lives. In reality, it made them weak. 

The man you stood before halted the motion of his hand just as it grazed the back of your thigh and threatened to disappear beneath your already barely-there skirt. His eyes were now looking past you, annoyance showing in his hollow gaze before his hand fell from your body. He dropped your wrist with a force while simultaneously pushing you back an inch. 

“You were already given a warning, Marcus. Two, if I remember correctly.” A new voice greeted your ears, yet you were still too frozen to turn and see who it belonged to. You could feel his eyes, though. It was so familiar. Heavy. “But here you are, still harassing the staff.” 

A figure stepped around you, gently nudging you back a few more steps. He was much taller than you with dark hair, his outfit black on black, at least from what you could tell from behind. There was something about him that commanded the attention of the room and you were more than willing to give it to him. So much that you hadn't even noticed the way he was leaning closer to the man now known as Marcus, his body slightly bent and an extended hand holding something to the repulsive man's neck. A peek to the left and you could just barely see the black splotches of ink that covered his own hand. 

“Why do you insist on touching what doesn't belong to you?” His voice lowered, the words being hissed in a threatening manner. “Don't make me remind you again just who here is the real bitch boy.” 

Marcus murmured something that sounded like an agreement, maybe an apology, which was apparently enough for the man because he stood back to his full height and then closed the knife you hadn't previously realized he was in possession of. As he turned to the side you could see the bright red line of blood that was sliced into Marcus' neck - his punishment. The wound was shallow, definitely not deadly, but you figured it got his point across. 

The man was then facing you and you slowly raised your attention to him. Your breath caught in your throat and recognition flared in your eyes. You were sure the brief shock you saw in his gaze mimicked your own, though his was fleeting and quickly returned back to the hardened glare. 

Hot neighbor. 

“I'll be sure to mention to the boss that we had a talk tonight, gentlemen.” The man spoke to the small group without so much as a glance back to them. His attention was too focused on you, his hand placed on the middle of your back to help guide you around and towards the spiral staircase. You assumed he was going to leave you once you began your descent but he was right on your heels for the entirety of the trek, only pausing once you nearly reached the lower level. 

Lightly grasping your arm, he gave a gentle tug to bring you closer before you could scurry away. “I think a 'thank you’ is in order.” You could hear the smile in his voice, as if this situation was amusing to him. Maybe it was. You knew next to nothing about him so it wasn't as if you could truly gauge his reaction. 

“I didn't need your help,” you fired back. You didn't like to be told what to do by men on a power trip. Not anymore. “I could've handled it myself.”

“Really?” His smile widened and his posture dipped so your eyes could better meet through the darkness. “Because it looked to me like you were a frightened deer caught in the headlights. Very consistent for you.” 

At least he was admitting that he knew who you were without truly saying it. You had given him the same look from your apartment window on multiple occasions now. 

You remained silent, your eyes burrowing into his instead of trailing along his face like you desperately felt the need to. For reasons unknown you wanted to memorize every little detail and carry the memory with you forever. It didn't matter that you knew you should be somewhat afraid of him after the physical threat he placed upon Marcus. The idea of him doing the same to you never even crossed your naive mind. 

When you still didn’t respond, but also refused to back down, he returned to his full towering height over you and dropped his smile. It was like he had pulled a mask over his face to be whoever it was Nocturnal expected. But what did you know? This could be the true version of himself instead of the one you had been witnessing from your window for over a month. 

“Run along, little deer,” he gently spoke, his tone condescending, just before disappearing back up the spiral staircase. 

CHAPTER TWO

[theelizamanelli]

Kanpai

Fumiko is the first daughter to be born into the Hime clan in over a century. A secret prophecy forces her into the path of imminent danger. After a failed assassination attempt, the Jujutsu elders dictate that she requires more aggressive security measures. How will cheerful Fumiko Hime handle the coldness of her new bodyguard Kento Nanami?  Tags: 18+, kento nanami x female oc, bodyguard, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, eventual romance, eventual smut, blood and violence, fingering link to all chapters link to ao3

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Chapter Four

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“Are you okay, Miko?” Isa softly prompted, placing a hand on her forearm. The circles underneath her eyes were dark, the lines on her face weary. Fumiko slowly made eye contact with him, a drained smile spreading through her face.

“Of course, Isa. Don’t worry yourself.” she placed her hand on his, patting it. 

Nanami sat in the chair, his brows furrowing at the interaction. His eyes darted from the man’s hand to Fumiko’s tired features. He uncrossed his legs and slowly stood.

Isa nervously glanced in Nanami’s direction before exiting the room. Fumiko slowly gathered her things, placing them in her bag with a sigh.

Nanami looked down at this watch, clearing his throat before saying, “We have time today before we head home. Would you like to stop somewhere?”

Fumiko paused, her gaze quickly meeting Nanami’s before she responded, “Really?”

Nanami watched as the light returned to her eyes, a genuine smile filling her face, “Yes, really. We must hurry, though.”

Quickly shoveling the remainder of the items into her bag, she rushed through the door before Nanami had the opportunity to change his mind. 

The clatter of ceramic echoed through the space as Fumiko looked around quickly, spotting a young man sitting at a couch. His dark hair slicked back, a tapered fade down the sides. He was well-dressed, adorned in a navy blue suit that fit him well. His dark eyes were focused on the window, his demeanor posed and elegant.

Fumiko darted forward towards him, her hurried footsteps alerting him to her imminent entrance. He beamed up at her, standing quickly, “Miko, please! I am surprised you remembered what I looked like. You’ve been gone so long.” he exclaimed dramatically. A hand clutching his heart as she threw her arms around his neck.

He spun her slightly, careful to avoid the table. He laughed, setting her onto the tile before he noticed the man standing close behind her. Nanami towered over the two, his gaze dark as he assessed the man. 

His eyes darted anxiously between her and Nanami before he spoke, “The bodyguard?” he leaned towards Fumiko, his tone nearing a whisper.

“Yes,” she responded with a sigh before turning towards him. “This is Ren Hara. My best friend since childhood, please treat him with care.”

Nanami bowed slightly, “I am Kento Nanami. Nice to meet you, Hara.”

“The honor is mine.” Ren dragged his eyes along his body as he bit his bottom lip. Fumiko furrowed her brows, pushing his shoulder slightly. A warning look in her eyes.

“Please sit at one of the tables. I would like to catch up with my friend privately.” she said firmly, not looking in his direction.

Without a response, Nanami sat at one of the high rise tables closest to her. Fumiko noted that it was positioned between her and the door. She closed her eyes and sighed before crumpling into the seat next to Ren.

“You neglected to tell me he was hot.” he hissed, gripping her wrist tightly.

“That hardly matters when my life is at stake.” Fumiko replied with a groan.

“Oh, shut up. Your life just started if you’re living with that.” he smiled and looked up at Nanami, who sat politely in his chair. Looking out the window and intermittently scanning the shop. 

“Get over yourself, Ren. I am nearly positive that he is straight.” Fumiko leaned forward to grab one of the two drinks sitting on the table.

“The hot ones always are.” he replied mournfully. 

“You don’t even care that people are trying to kill me.” Fumiko glared in his direction, crossing her legs.

“Oh, please, Miko. People have either been trying to kill you since we were young.” he rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his drink before continuing. “Good god, look at yourself. Of course you’re special!” 

He roughly gestured towards her pastel pink hair and white eyes. Features that had haunted her since she was little, gathering constant unwanted attention

Fumiko let out a scoff at the comment, Ren wasn’t entirely wrong. This had not been the first time a security detail had been necessary, the last instance spanning from fifteen until she had turned nineteen. Once the threat had dissipated, her father conceded and allowed her to move into one of the apartment buildings he owned in the city. 

She hated to admit that two assassination attempts in the last two months had dictated that this time was a great deal more serious than the previous ones. There had never been an actual effort to murder her before. This was entirely new territory, one that she was slowly working out how to navigate. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she replied softly. “I don’t like it, though. He won’t let me open the windows in the apartment. I can’t watch anything on my laptop without him knowing. I can barely use my phone, for fuck’s sake.”

“That is tough, how are you supposed to watch porn late at night?” Ren laughed, shoving her knee playfully. “Well, you’ll just have to use him as the muse. That shouldn’t be too hard.”

Nanami straightened slightly, though his features didn’t reveal whether he had heard. Fumiko shifted in her seat uncomfortably before switching the conversation. 

The following hour consisted of raucous laughter, heated hearsay, and copious amounts of espresso. It ended with Nanami gesturing towards his watch and Fumiko swiftly exiting - careful to not tread on his good will. 

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Fumiko finished her night routine, venturing into the kitchen to start dinner. It had been a long day, though she found herself thankful for Nanami - it had re-invigorated her to visit with Ren. Work had not been fulfilling her social battery. Nanami’s cold demeanor hadn’t either, the combination making for a rather dreadful existence.

Sitting at the island, she turned towards the living room - scrolling through the possibilities for entertainment on the television. A slow padding of feet reverberated along the wood, stopping near the washer and dryer. 

Fumiko swallowed the bite that she had taken before saying, “Thank you, Nanami. For allowing me to go to the coffee shop. It meant a lot to see Ren.” She turned the volume down before turning in his direction.

She jolted, Nanami stood in the hallway with a towel hanging low on his hips. He tousled his wet hair with another - a sheen of condensation gleaming on his abs. Fumiko hated to admit that there was a familiar pull in her stomach at the sight.

He hung the towel around his neck, placing his clothes into the washer before angling himself towards her, “Do you two always engage in such interesting conversations?” 

Warmth spread along Fumiko’s neck and into her cheeks as Nanami retreated to his bedroom. She could not help herself as she admired his back muscles in his descent, shaking her head quickly when the door closed. 

Twisting back to face the living room, she stared at the ground - surely he hadn’t heard Ren’s comments. She wouldn’t pretend she was a saint, Fumiko was no stranger to a good orgasm. There had been an empty place in her life since Nanami had been around, the ability to relieve herself dissolving in his presence. 

Not often did she engage in activities outside of a relationship but there were a few occasions where her hormones had run rampant. Her closest friends would describe her personality as both kind and flirty, often warranting playful commentary. If there were men able to keep up with her personality then they would earn a chance to end their night in her bed. 

Those men were far and few between. 

Emptying her dishes into the sink, she slowly padded along the floorboards - stopping momentarily to listen outside of Nanami’s door. There were no sounds besides the overhead fan, the darkness crowding the cracks along the door. 

She dragged her fingers along the wood before retreating to her room. Closing the door softly, she turned the shower on along with the speaker - careful not to play her music too loud. 

The water cascaded along her back, she closed her eyes and allowed her vision to drift. Images of Nanami’s glistening chest floated through her head. What he would have looked like in the shower, the droplets tracing patterns along his muscled back. 

Leaning back, the heat slid over her face - her hands gliding along her body. Slowly caressing her thigh before her fingers floated towards the point where the pressure had built. 

Her fantasies shifted to Nanami behind her, rubbing where she was most sensitive as she arched against him. His firm voice in her ear, whispering how beautiful she looks when she moans his name. How good she was being, listening to his every word. Letting him do whatever he wanted to her. 

Increasing the pace as her soft begging moans filled the shower, his lips pressing to her temple - careful to maintain his tempo as he repositioned her. The angle causing her knees to buckle slightly. 

The tightness that had built snapped causing Fumiko to careen over the edge, “Oh, f-fuc-” she moaned. Writhing against her fingers as she clasped a free hand to her mouth. 

Fumiko straightened, her head floating as she attempted to calm her ragged breaths. The water pounded into her back, she closed her eyes - wincing at the embarrassment. 

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chapter five

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[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

[greatbigbeautifullife]

on the bus now so let me say: SLAYYYYYYYYYYYY

[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."

[glitteryhellhole]

alright lets do this

here we go

Title: The Tent Fandom: Z nation Pairing: 10K x female reader Word count: approx 3k Rating: 18 Description: fluffy smut with awkward cinnamon roll 10K

A gas station. A real life, untouched gas station. Apart from the bloody handprints smeared on the concrete walls.

It didn't take long to sweep and secure the area, then fill up the truck and the reserve cannisters. Afterwards Warren gestured with her gun to the convenience store. “Look for anything useful.”

The place had been untouched since day one. Mummified hot dogs still sitting on a rack. The register hanging open- perhaps in the beginning some people had looted cash, but it didn't take long to realise money didn't mean anything anymore.

You shoved bottles of water and packets of candy into your rucksack before following Addy's gaze to the toiletries shelf. Pads and tampons, little travel-sized bodywashes, an actual toothbrush.

“It's a whole new kind of mercy,” she whistled.

You picked up the first aid kit and the two crushed boxes of painkillers, turning to ask Doc if they'd be any good- and found him and Murphy kneeling on the counter, pulling away the plastic panel which guarded the cigarettes.

Priorities, huh.

Loaded up, you looked around you. Warren was on watch so 10K had let his guard down for once and was poking at the faded magazines. You saw his pink lips move as he mouthed the titles to himself. Something familiar caught his eye, probably the one with guns all over, and he reached up- and the whole top shelf came tumbling down. Suddenly 10K was surrounded by glossy double-page spreads of unnaturally bronzed and perky breasts and butts.

He froze like an animal in a trap.

“Found what you're looking for?” Doc's voice was loud and his arms were cradling an impressive quantity of alcohol. “There's a lot of generic lesbians, over forties, asian fetish, but for a beginner I'd recommend-”

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a crash as 10K backed rapidly out of the shop, cheeks ablaze, taking down a stand of air fresheners and sending sunglasses skittering across the floor in every direction.

The rest of you laughed, for the first time in a while. Back in the truck and passing round bags of only-slightly-stale chips, you all agreed that the gas station was your best find in quite some time.

Except perhaps for the tent.

A little way back, a stranded family had been incredibly grateful for a tow out of the ditch, and had gifted you their spare tent. No ordinary camping gear, this thing was foil-lined and had a built in waterproof, cushioned underlayer. On an especially hot night you'd probably want it to yourself but the rest of the time it comfortably housed two people, keeping in the heat. You'd been taking turns each night, with priority to the injured, meaning that every morning there was at least one person who was fully rested and recharged. Ideal when every day was a battle for survival.

Of course, there was one other advantage to the tent. Privacy. Human needs didn't really get talked about in this un-human world, and whatever got overheard in the night would also go unspoken.

It was nearing dusk and you were pulling over to make camp. “Who's turn in the tent?” Murphy called out as he threw himself down on the ground. “Dibs.”

Warren, who was unloading a heavy bag, gave him a kick in the side. “Get up and help. I don't think 10K's had a turn yet.”

“Neither's she.” He nodded at you.

“Settled then.”

Murphy sniggered.

Since there was plenty of water, there was a rare chance to wash up a bit. Ladies first while the men stood watch with their backs turned, and then vice versa. Nowhere near to having a hot shower in privacy, but it was something. You noticed that 10K didn't bother putting his shirt back on afterwards as he squatted by the fire cleaning his weapons, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.

How could somebody so skinny be so strong? Must be the result of life outdoors.

He raised an eyebrow and you realised you were staring. Oops.

“Here.” Somebody passed you a can of cheap beer that had come from the store along with the snacks and cigarettes. It was almost like being at a camp-out. The beer was gross but it gave you a nice warm feeling in your chest, and the idea of lying down somewhere soft started to seem quite appealing, so you said your goodnights and retreated into the tent.

You weren't sure how long it was until you were joined, perhaps you'd started to drift off- the sound of the zip jolted you back to your senses as 10K flopped unceremoniously into the tent, stretching out next to you. “Beer makes shoelaces hard.” He complained.

You giggled and sat up to help. “When was the last time you slept without shoes on?”

“Probably before my voice broke.” He scratched his head while watching you remove his boots and then said, “I'm not good at talking, especially to girls, but you don't scare me.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I think?” You laid back down, closing your eyes and pulling your blanket over you. There was silence for a minute but it was oddly comfortable, the security of a warm person breathing next to you.

“What was your first word?” You asked into the silence. “I bet it was gun.”

“Actually it was primrose.”

“Huh?”

“My momma's favourite flower.” He rolled over onto his stomach, closing the gap between you, and rested his cheek on his folded arms. “I was six. Doctor said I wasn't learning but I was paying attention to everything. She used to take me to the library in town to look at all sorts of books, that where we learned to sign.”

You couldn't help but ask. “When did she...?”

“When I was nine. Pops wanted me to try and be a normal kid but once she'd gone he didn't want anything to do with the rest of the world and stopped sending me to school.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.” He wriggled a little to get more comfortable. “Can you talk for a bit now?”

So you talked about your own parents, and your hometown, and it surely wasn't very interesting but 10K watched you intently as he sobered up, studying your face, and you hoped you weren't blushing. After a while you came to a natural conclusion in your story and realised that his fingers were twitching, as though he were nervous.

What's up?” you asked softly.

He blinked slowly. “Ain't always easy to tell when you're supposed to say stuff and when you're not.”

Unsure what to expect, you gave him an encouraging nod.

“Can I... touch your hair?”

Your heart started to beat a little fast and you nodded again. 10K's fingers reached out timidly to feel you hair, twisting strands and brushing them away from your face.

You hadn't felt human touch in so long, and you couldn't help but rest your head on his arm as he stroked. The pair of you seemed to breathe in unison. It was almost peaceful.

Almost. Apart from the little sparks of electricity that seemed to fizzle into life where your skin touched his.

Could he feel it too? It didn't seem so. There he was growing more and more serene, while you were   warming up in a way that had nothing to do with the insulated tent.

“Um...” You fidgeted awkwardly, trying to choose the right words. “10K? You know why they were giggling right?”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes were closed. “People do stuff in the tent. Its pretty obviously I've never... y'know.”

“Does it bother you?”

“A bit, but its not like I can go meet a girl and ask her Pops if I can take her to the barn dance.”

You couldn't help but laugh a little. “I mean the teasing.”

“Oh.” He blushed slightly as he opened his eyes to look at you. “I get why, you're near my age and you're pretty. Any guy would be lucky to date you.”

Oh indeed. Maybe he did feel it then.

“You could...” You bit your lip and steeled yourself. “You could pretend that you were.”

He sat bolt upright, making you jump, and a wide grin spread across his face. “I could ask you on a picnic, at my favourite place in the woods.” His words were tumbling out fast from nervous excitement. “Make nice bread, Mom's special recipe with the dried fruit. And we could talk like we did earlier and I could pick you flowers and then I could kiss you.”

His lips were clumsy as they first met yours, but eager, and didn't take long to find a groove. You sighed and leaned in, one hand reaching up into his hair, and-

A single gunshot cracked through the air.

In an instant 10K was lurching for the tent entrance where his gun was propped. You reached for your shoes, panic rising in your chest.

“False alarm.” Doc's voice came from outside. “Nothing to worry about. Hey, you okay in there kid? Need me to give ya a quick pep talk on anything?”

“I'm good.” He zipped the flap back up then turned back to you. “Actually do you think maybe I should? I don't really know what to do.”

You couldn't help but laugh again. He was way too innocent for someone so good-looking.

You put and hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.  “Just do what feels natural.”

“Okay.” He gave you another wide grin, showing those adorably crooked teeth, and then practically launched himself at you, so you landed on your back and he was on top of you, lips moulding to the shape of yours. You gasped for air and 10K made an apologetic sound without pausing the kiss, propping himself up on one elbow so that you could breathe.

His hand rested on your stomach, fingers still for a moment before balling up your shirt and gently navigating the exposed skin. Tentative. Like soothing a spooked animal.

You reached your hand up to touch his shoulders, feeling hard muscle under surprisingly soft skin. Tracing his collarbones and around the back of his neck. He shivered and broke the kiss, and you saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips.

“Maybe I could take your shirt off too.” He mumbled. In answer you sat up and held your arms above your head. 10K pulled your shirt over your head- sending the little lamp tied to the tent roof swinging- then looked confused as his thumb hooked into the shoulder strap of your sports bra. You kind of wished you'd been wearing something nicer for this occasion, but you'd dressed for practicality before hitting the road.

“Here. Let me.” You wriggled out of the bra, trying not to elbow him in the process.

“Wowee.” 10K let out a whistle. “You look even better without clothes on. Why would anyone want to look at random pictures?”

It seemed like he could have sat there and stared forever, but you didn't have forever, and so you pulled him in to kiss again. He trailed his lips across your face and on to your neck, one arm supporting you from behind and the other hand landing on your chest, squeezing experimentally.

“Not so hard,” you gasped.

“Sorry. They're squishier than I expected.” He let out a humming noise into the crook of your neck as his fingers found a hard nipple and brushed back and forth.

You dipped your head down too, lightly touching your teeth to his throat. A low growl escaped and he pushed you back down, pressing his body close to yours, and you could feel his eager hardness against your hip.

10K tried the same move, nipping at the skin under your ear. His breathing was very shallow and rapid as he licked and sucked experimentally, moving down over your breasts.

“You taste good. But not in a zombie way.”

Your hands rested on his hips, fingers splaying out to softly squeeze his ass and then dipping below the loose waistband.

“Oh, wait.” He rolled off you to shed a pile of concealed knives and the little sharp discs that he used in the sling shot.

“What else are you hiding down there?” You smirked. For a moment he turned beetroot red and covered his crotch with his hands, but then met your smile with one of his own.

“Just means I like you and I like this.” He shrugged. “Do you-”

“Mmhmm.” You reached out to ease his trouser buttons undone, fumbling slightly, but you weren't nervous. It just felt right with him. “I like you. And I like this.”

He groaned softly as the restriction on his hardness eased and grabbed you for another kiss, this time hungry and slightly sloppy. 10K's fingers found the fastening of your own jeans and made quick work, tugging them down to your knees. Then he paused for a moment, putting a finger to your lips.

There was no noise from outside.

“We're good.” With a bit of awkward shuffling, you both shed your trousers and then looked at each other.

“We probably shouldn't go all the way,” you said almost reluctantly. “No protection and all that. But there's still stuff-”

“Anything.” 10K blurted out without a second's pause. “Everything. I'll do whatever you want. But not what you don't want.” His tongue darted out to wet his lips again as he stared at you earnestly.

You felt a shiver travel down your spine. Nobody had ever looked at you quite like that before. Not just lust but something deeper, as though he was seeing through your skin and right inside you.

“Come here,” he whispered huskily, grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap. You sighed into the kiss and slowly moved your hips, letting your centre rub against his as you straddled him, tangling fingers in his messy hair.

10K moaned something that sounded like “shucks” and you couldn't help but snort. What would it take to make him swear? You dug your nails in a little, catching his lip between your teeth.

“Want to touch you.” He moaned, gripping your hips. “Want you to touch me.”

You trailed your hand from his cheek all the way down to cup the pronounced bulge in his boxers and his eyes rolled back in his skull, but then he visibly shook himself and swatted your hand away. “Ladies first.” The hand slid a little clumsily down into your knickers.

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead against 10K's, feeling how hot his skin was. His curious fingertips traced your labia and in between.

“It's wet.” He sounded surpised, and brought a thumb to his mouth to taste.

“That's a good thing.” You felt a little self-conscious as you explained, watching him suck his thumb. “It means I'm, you know, turned on.”

“Show me how to make it feel good,” he murmured, lifting you off his lap and laying you back down before tugging your knickers all the way down and spreading your legs.

You took his hand in yours and guided him, showing him your clit. His marksman fingertips quickly picked it up and he kissed you again as he touched you. “Am I doing it right?”

“Yeah you're- oh, yeah thats good.” Your voice was high-pitched and breathy. 10K made a satisfied “hmph” and nuzzled into your neck. He smelled of safety. Less dirt and blood than usual, traces of soap, whatever he was using for hair gel, engine oil. Sweat but not in the just-been-running-and-fighting way, in the musky hormonal way.

The feeling swelling inside you was something you hadn't experienced, hadn't even thought about, in a long time. But here and now it was growing, consuming, and you couldn't imagine anything other than his touch, his hot breath on your cheek.

“Hey.” 10K's voice was husky again. “You need something else?”

You became aware that your hips were twitching. “A bit faster maybe?”

A moan escaped your lips as he obliged, and 10K grinned. “That's hot.” Then he cocked his head to one side, raising his eyebrows. “I assume girls can- y'know-”

“It looks a bit different but yes.” You were gasping now as you spoke, chest rising and falling.

“Do it for me.” He murmured, watching you as though hypnotised and biting his lip. His words and his gaze loosened the coiled spring that was weighing down your abdomen and the endorphins came rushing as you climaxed.

“Shh.” He pressed his mouth to yours and swallowed your moan, pressing his fingers harder as you moved beneath him until it became almost too much. “Do you want them to hear us?”

You shook your head, trying to control your breathing.

“Maybe you do.” He raised an eyebrow again as his fingers finally slowed to a halt. “I kinda do. So they all know what I just did to you.”

“Do you want your turn or not?”

That shut him up. He glanced down and you followed his gaze. He was still very much erect, and there was now a distinct wet patch where he'd leaked a little in excitement.

You pushed 10K onto his back and settled yourself next to him. “Let me know if something's not ok,” you told him. “I won't do anything you don't want.”

He nodded and closed his eyes. He flinched a little as you pulled his boxers down but then his face relaxed and his lips parted as you touched him.

“Have you done this to yourself?” You asked. “So you know what you like.”

He nodded, looking somewhat bashful. “A few times. But this is different. Better.”

It was your turn to grin as your fingers circled his erection and found a rhythm. 10K's head tilted back and the smallest of high-pitched noises escaped his open mouth. You lowered your lips to his exposed neck and sucked gently at the skin. There was a red mark when you pulled away.

“Mmmph.” He rasped through gritted teeth. “Again.”

“It'll leave a bruise.”

“Don't care.”

You began to create a trail of little hickeys down his throat and across his collarbones as you continued to stroke, and his tiny whimpers grew more frequent. You knew it wouldn't be long.

10K was holding onto you tightly, nails digging in, droplets of sweat visible on his forehead. “I think I'm gonna- ahh....” He seemed to lose the ability to speak as you attacked his neck again, eyes rolling back. A few moments later, his hips bucked and you could feel hot sticky warmth coat your fingers.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck.”

So he did swear after all.

You kissed him again, and then looked down. “Um, got anything to clean up with?”

Still breathing heavily, 10K sat up and reached for his trousers, pulling a bandana out of one of the many pockets. “It's my least favourite. I'll burn it.”

Like the gentleman he'd been raised to be, he wiped your hand off first before tending to himself, then tossed the soiled cloth out of the way and pulled you close. You rested your head on his chest. You'd heard the term 'afterglow' but never really thought that it was a thing; it apparently was. The chemicals your brain was releasing and the protective hold of his arms made you want to laugh, and cry, and drift off to sleep, and run a mile, all at once.

Just for a moment, there was no apocalypse. There was only you and him and the little lamp above your heads.

It was 10K who broke the spell. “I need to pee.” he said apologetically. “Like, real bad.”

You laughed at the face he was pulling and threw his trousers at him. 10K slithered with some difficulty into them, kicking the side of the tent, and then stumbled outside.

You realised how cold it was now and reached for your own clothes. As footsteps indicated 10K's return, you could have sworn you heard the sound of a high-five.

“What was that?” You demanded as he re-entered the tent.

“Never mind.” He grabbed the blanket and laid it over you.”I  want to do that again. But we should probably get some sleep.”

“The whole point of the tent is to get proper rest right?” You scooted closer as he laid down, offering the blanket, but he refused, tucking it round you and then wrapping his arms round too so you were tightly cocooned against his side.

“Yeah. Sure.”

>>>>>Thanks for reading! This is the first fanfic i’ve done in literally years. Open to feedback and even perhaps requests :) PS i am v english so I apologise to any Americans insulted by my attempts at your words

[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.

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@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!

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