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astralartefact · 7 months ago

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Anyways, let me talk about Jeuno for a second

I did another run for fun and because I already got my drop for the week I left my room at the end for a minute to do something. When coming back I realized I forgot to pass on the pieces I couldn't get anyways. Mortifying.

Can we keep Prishe. Can we just. Give them Alisaie or something. Prishe at least has the decency to call someone names.

#1 Raid Mechanics

I think this is the exact right difficulty I want them at, they're chaotic (well...) they're visually impactful and not just in a cutscene that halts the entire momentum for no good reason (direct eye contact with Nald'thal) (both of them) and they're not going to be boring the second time you do them because each boss only has 3 (relatively) basic mechanics that immediately loop in the exact same way you've already seen them in (Thaleia; exception being Llymi)

Because as much as I think they could go further I was just stuck for 30? Minutes at Shadowlord - which I find is easier than the Ark Angels, the biggest difficulty is that the cleaves are kinda weird - and this is just not the content for something even more involved. That's why they're doing Chaotic after all.

Special Shout Out to the Ark Angel HM mechanic where you have to kite him. That's so goddamn funny.

#2 The German Dub

I did my for fun run with german voice over to hear how the Prishe from the trailer turns out in the game and well...

She's amazing. The voice actress nailed the assignment. Please set your voice over to german for her fight even just once (you can just do that in-game in the system options in the instance, you don't need to download new data for that or reload or something) because you too can learn the power of SCHMACKES!!!!

If I figure out OBS for next week's gear run I'll record her and post it here, because I'm a fan and I need you to be too (the one thing I miss about playing on PS4 is quick record ._. can just click a button and save the last few minutes of whatever you did. kind of weird that they actively record what you're doing but so convenient)

Anyways, I ended up doing the entire run in german and I have to say, the entire raid's german va work is pretty good! I really liked Bakool Ja Ja's Voice Actors, they are a bit more your usual stiff german Anime/Video Game Voice Acting, same with the Ark Angels, but it's not stiff enough to be weird or anything.

Now Shadow Lord however. That guy.

After doing the fight to about 80% three times in a row I have to say I really like the voice actor's performance, it's definitely a different direction than the other languages but he really sells it.

#3 I found my new (second) least favorite thing about FFXIV my least favorite thing is still Myths of the Realm, fuck eulogia

This is a Shard Metaphysics Tangent.

I hate it. I don't know what they're thinking they're doing with it but I don't care anymore, it's something I roll my eyes at whenever they feel the need to go pseudo-scientific deep lore about it because they can pretend all they want, it does not make sense anymore because of weird mini retcons nobody asked for that weren't even necessary.

Imagine doing this whole cutscene in Shadowbringers where you show us exactly what happened to which shard in which order and then instead of working with what you establish there you bring it up after two expansions but now everything is labeled differently to conform with whatever whim you thought up and you just act like that's not weird at all - and not only that you also condescend to me about how look, it actually has to be this way because there's this other vague lore rule that we arbitrarily decided is more important. What, don't you know the lore? If you paid attention you would know we said this! what do you mean "other stuff"?

What fun to imagine that! Am I glad I cared about what you wrote when putting together my OC Lore in satisfyingly canon-abiding ways!

Minor Spoiler for Interphos EX, but since the ground in the Ice Phase is once again a Roman Numeral (making Wind -> X / 10, Earth -> II / 2, Ice -> III / 3) it does very much imply that those are the shards Sphene is connecting with (unless nobody in development noticed that the ground shapes are all numbers in which case... okay). Problem is of course that that doesn't make any fucking sense from any direction because the 2nd Shard succumbed to a Fire Calamity, the 3rd to Earth and the 10th to Water - and - the 2nd Calamity was Lightning (which was on the 12th) and the 3rd Fire (10th doesn't exist so don't know why I brought it up).

It's kind of impressive they didn't even manage to hit one of those.

But even pretending that Graha just labeled his Shard Power Point wrong and the Calamities are just in another order and on different shards it still doesn't make any sense because Alexandria being the Ninth and not the Twelfth is from a writing perspective - hopefully because otherwise the only reason for doing that is "Look, FF9" and that's a really stupid reason to upend your lore for - solely built around the "fact" that the Rejoinings leave nothing behind... but if Alexandria is from the 9th because LM can't be in the 12th "since it's rejoined" how is Sphene connecting to the Elemental Nothings of 2, 3 and 10, which are all Rejoined and therefore shouldn't exist anymore? So what you're saying is that there is a Twelfth Lightning Nothing that Living Memory could have been in!? So why ruin the Ninth with a Failed Rejoining you never mentioned before instead of just making this easy on everybody??? Ugh, I hate it.

Anyways. The reason I bring this up is that they're clearly setting up Vana'diel's place in this world building mess since they talk about it a bunch to set up the mystery they will presumably solve at some point and they show the ruins of Amaurot in that one Shadow Lord Attack (i'm assuming? it looks like ruined amaurot and what else should it be) to tie it all together - and I'm somewhat concerned about that because they made it very clear that despite what we're seeing of it being "fake" (we'll get to it) it still all comes from actual FF11 Vana'diel - and making FF11 a shard after all of the "The Shards are just mangled copies of the Source/Sundered World" you ended up doing would be so disrespectful. Like, no, you cannot do that, the things that would do to stuff like Altana and Promathia. The only thing of the sort I will accept is if Vana'diel is the sundered world in the far far far far far far faaar flung past - which would make Shadow Lord prevailing to stand in Amaurot's crumbling ruins even more metal btw - otherwise do not make Vana'diel involved with the Shards in any way shape or form!!!! DON'T DO IT.

#4 The NieR of it all

That's a Shadowlord Reference, right. This looks like Amaurot but Snow in Summer. They made a NieR reference, right. They connected the two Shadow Lords :)

Well... It's more likely than you think.

I want to boldly predict that this story line was written by the person who wrote Mamook (who I previously theorized to be Megumi Onozuka and who I assume was involved with Y:DA which means she know her stuff and is NieR-adjacent) and I want to be right about that because I want to be that person's biggest fan, I want to curse their name in delight when nobody else does

I get why people wouldn't be keen on them establishing that the Walks are just copies made of Electrope instead of just making the Eleventh a Return-to-Ivalice-esque Vana'diel or something where whatever's happening here won't disturb the original world. As established above I'm not particularly keen on it either but if this is going where I think it's going I think it could be an amazing idea and worth wobbling the lore for.

First of all, I think this is an Isekai. I think Alxaal is a Player. Not a player character, a Player - Prishe makes a clear distinction he isn't the PC of FF11 she knew - which is important because I think these memory constructs aren't built on the actual "facts" of FF11 which just happen to invoke Memories of the players but literally on the Player's Memories of them, all of their subjectivities included. Like, this is not just FF11 Prishe, this is basically the collective unconscious version of Prishe constructed through the audience of FF11 - which at the end of the day is what she is if this isn't directly written by the writers who wrote her.

But that's not the exciting part to me, that's not why this is the NieR part of this post. The reason for that is that doing that they set up a situation where we pose the worth our memories of what happened against the facts of what happened. They literally start a thing about Prishe having to figure out what she's worth knowing that she is a copy - but with this added nuance it becomes "What is this version of Prishe, the Prishe someone remembered, worth if she isn't the "Real" Prishe?" - and that feels very NieR to me, especially since looking at FF11 and FF14 it's a very topical discussion to have.

Compared to "normal" RPGs both FF11 and 14 are uniquely in the position of also providing a sandbox for players to make memories in - memories that the developers haven't planned in the form they can plan story moments and the like. This would be a very interesting way to acknowledge that - and affirm that those memories, that "subjective" view of Vana'diel (and Eorzea for that matter), is just as real as the factual version the developers created. And I think that's a really neat thing for a cross-over of 11 and 14 in particular to be about, since it is something only these two share among the other Final Fantasies.

In a similar vein both of these games are inevitably going to "end." Even if they somehow get an offline version that version will be different, the "original" FF11 will not exist once the servers are shutdown - and honestly it already doesn't exist anymore since playing FF11 nowadays is a whole different beast from playing FF11 back in the day. "What is this version of Prishe, the Prishe someone remembered, worth if she isn't the "Real" Prishe?" can just as well be about that.

So with all these thoughts bubbling in my head I'm very excited to see where they're heading with this.

I just really hope they don't pull a Myths of the Realm on me again and end this with the stupidest conclusion anyone could ever come to, maybe something like us having to delete our Prishe specifically because she's not the real one. As always, fuck eulogia.

Also, just to say it if that is what they were trying to do with that Shadow Lord attack above, I really love the idea of people that played FF11 and NieR using their chance to connect the two, even if it's just because of the name. Like now you can say "Oh yeah, 14's FF11 Shadowlord kind of has a NieR reference attack" and FF14 people did that. I think stuff like that is neat :)

#ffxiv #ff14 #ff11 #ffxi #and a little bit of nier :)#ffxiv spoilers

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uncpanda · 4 years ago

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A Photo is Worth a Thousand Words

Prompt: Mine by Taylor Swift

AN: It was requested to be like the music video, so I kind of went with pictures and moments from their lives!

Requested by: ANON

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

“Hey. What are you doing up?”

You glance up as Aaron walks into the dining room. He’s dressed in his pajama pants and an old FBI tee-shirt. There’s a little more silver in his hair now, but he still looks so handsome. “Reminiscing.”

His hands settle on your shoulders and he dips down to kiss your cheek. His lips settle near your ear and he asks, “Feeling sentimental?”

“Big time.” You nod at the numerous photo albums spread out on the table. He takes the seat next to you. He pulls one closer and smiles. He points to a picture, “This is the first time you met Jack.” You smile, “He refused to let you leave that night. He clung to your leg, and you stayed until he fell asleep, and left him a note for in the morning. That’s when I knew for a fact that you were special.”

You smile, “He still has that note. He showed it to me the other day when I was helping him pack. He wants to take it with him. Not going to lie, I had to go into the bathroom and cry after that.”

Aaron laughs, “You’re pregnant here, do you know who it is?”

You squint to look at the date, and then you look at your outfit, “Gemma.”

He points at another, “This one?”

“Still Gemma?”

His brow furrows, “Do we not have any pictures of your other pregnancy?”

You quirk your mouth and reach across the table and grab a book, “This one has a few.” You flip to the right page and nod, “Yep, I’m pregnant with Katherine in this one.”

He flips the pages, and smiles when he reaches the pictures from right after the delivery. There’s a lot of pictures of you with Katherine. But your favorite is one of Aaron holding her. He’s bare chested and has her snuggled against his chest for skin to skin contact. His hand covers her entire back. And he’s smiling down at her like he can’t believe she exists.

Your other favorite picture is one of your entire family; the five of you. You’re dressed in actual pajamas instead of the hospital gown, Aaron is sitting on the other side of the bed with Gemma in his lap, and Jack is between the two of you. He’s beaming at the camera because Katherine has just grabbed his finger. It is the first picture you have of your complete family.

“Oh. Oh. Oh! First days of school!!!!”

You smile at the row of photos. The first several are all Jack, from the time you and

Aaron had started dating, and then eventually Gemma’s first day of preschool. There are big fat tears rolling down her face, and Aaron has her cradled against his chest, while Jack has a hand on her back. Katherine had been strapped to your chest with the baby wrap. The following years photos were all smiles.

Katherine’s first day of school is the exact opposite. She’s all smiles and Aaron and Jack are both pouting. Neither of them liked not being needed. They had both ranted for over an hour that she had never looked back.

“Look at this one.”

You point at a picture of Aaron proposing. He’s down on one knee, and Jack is beside him doing the same thing. The next picture shows the three of you hugging, and the third picture shows Jack waving your hand, with the ring on your finger at the camera.

There are more pictures with the team, and from sporting events and birthdays. You’ve been unbelievably good at taking pictures over the years. Your memories are documented. And tomorrow you’ll be taking even more. “He can’t be old enough for college. . . .can he?”

Aaron sighs, “Yep, but we still have about two months until we send him off. We can make a lot more memories in that time. And Gemma is only eight and Katherine is only six, we have some time before they leave us.”

You sigh, “I know. But still.”

He kisses you, “We should head to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day between the graduation ceremony and the party.”

The two of you close all the books and put them up and head to bed.

You take about a million photos the following day, and you cheer like a mad woman when Jack crosses the stage. Gemma and Katherine cheer very loud too, and Aaron claps with this super proud look on his face.

You take another million photos as a family and then of Jack and his friends from the soccer team. Those boys were basically your adopted kids, they spent more time at yours and Aaron’s house than anyone else's.

From there you speed home and start setting up for the party. You’re in the middle of setting up the dessert table when you feel arms wrap around you. You look back and smile. “Hey bud, you okay?”

Jack smiles, “Yeah, just wanted to hug my mom.”

Your heart squeezes at that. He’s taller than you now, and his voice is deep. It reminds you a lot of Aaron. You brush his hair back and give him a hug. He lets go first and then you let go. “I’m going to go help dad.”

Your eyes narrow when you see him slip his hands back around him. A glance at the table shows four missing cookies, and a series of giggles from down the hall tells you he’s just snuck goodies to his sisters. You smile and grab your phone. You peer around the wall and snap a picture. And then you can’t help but laugh. Because there in the picture are not only your three children but your husband too. And you can’t help but be grateful for your wonderful family.

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #jack hotchner #aaron hotchner reader insert #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm reader insert #cm imagine #cm fanfiction

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ravenclaw-daydreams · 4 years ago

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𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐦 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐞

Warnings: smut, adult content, vaginal sex, creampie, oral (f and m receiving)

Summary: You ask Joe what he's been doing while he's been out for the past few nights, and you don't say it, but he knows what you're insinuating. You end up having him sleep on the couch, but in the morning, you wake up to a lovely surprise.

Masterlist

A/n: Needed something to satiate my joe cole yearning so here's some smut or whateva

It had been the third night in a row. The third night in a row where you sat in the exact same chair, trying to finish the exact same book, waiting for your fiancé to get home.

He had been busy the past few nights, that you could understand. But a triple offence of staying out past 3 in the morning didn't sit right with you. You even talked about it with your sister, and you already knew what she was insinuating.

But you continued to give him the benefit of the doubt. You trusted him with everything in you. You had to. You loved him so much, and you trusted that he would always feel the same, regardless of how long he decided to stay out.

But the thought still lingered. It ate at you like a termite to wood. The sudden opening of the front door snapped you out of your intrusive thoughts, your eyes flicking up off the words on the page you weren't even reading.

Joe came around the corner and muttered a small 'fuck' when he saw you sitting in your chair, the lamp next to you illuminating the worry on your face. You gently closed the book after marking the page and set it on the table next to you.

"I think you already know what I'm going to ask you, Joe," you were the first to break the ice, Joe taking his coat off and setting it on the arm of the couch, exposing his maroon cable-knit sweater.

"I just got caught up with my mates, darlin'," he tried to explain, his arms now crossed in defense.

"People don't come back from the pub at three in the morning looking almost completely sober," you were now crossing your own arms, not wanting to jump to conclusions this quickly.

"You know how they can get, I just want to make sure they get home alright."

"And I get that, Joe, I do. But this is the third night in a row you've been out so late," you pointed out, making the man across from you sigh.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I just get carried away sometimes."

You then approached him, letting out a sigh in defeat, now wrapping your arms around him and pressing your face into his shirt. That's when you tensed.

Before he could properly hug you back, you were pulling away, your brows furrowed, a look of betrayal flashing across your face.

"What is that?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes in spite of yourself, "That perfume isn't mine, Joe, and I know it isn't your cologne, Joe, what is that?"

"What?" he asked, genuinely confused, "Darlin, I have no idea what you're talking about," a look of realization plastered itself on his features, "What are you getting at?" his eyes narrowed.

"Well think about it, Joe! You spend 3 nights taking your sweet time getting home and when you do get home, you smell like someone else!"

"You really don't think I would do that to you...?" he looked hurt, but you looked worse.

"I don't want to. I really, really don't want to, Joe, trust me, but... god I just," you took a second to wipe your tears, "I think it would be best if you slept on the couch tonight, yeah?"

Joe stayed silent as he nodded his head. And with that, he left your line of sight, off to fetch blankets and pillows. That's when you slipped away up the stairs and into the bedroom.

That's when the dam broke and you began to sob, tears you tried so hard to keep in finally being released, your form hunched over as you sat on the edge of the bed, still messy and unmade from your... activities earlier the past morning.

You ended up just changing into panties and one of Joe's band t-shirts, curling up under the covers, dreading the talk that you and your fiance were most likely going to be having when you woke up.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡　　　ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

The first thing you felt was warmth. A heat stirring in your core as you tried to brush it off as nothing more than a little morning arousal. But it wasn't until you felt the hand that wrapped around your thigh that your eyes started to force themselves open.

Once you opened your eyes, the sunlight that streamed through the curtains was the first thing that you saw. But then, you felt it fully, and you turned your head, met with the sight of Joe with his head buried between your legs, devouring you know that he knew that you were awake.

Your noises that were once gasps and heavy breaths were now multiplied into moans and whimpers as your fingers went down, gripping his locks as he continued to lick and suck everything he could reach with his mouth, his nose bumping up against your clit.

"Fuck, Joe," you whimpered out, your eyes rolling back as your body felt as if it were going to explode. The coil in your stomach was tightening without letting up, and Joe knew you were close.

To push you over the edge, you felt two of his fingers find their way inside your tight cunt, already wet from his current licking, and you moaned out loudly at the sensation of his fingers opening you up.

"Cum for me," his words were muffled, but the vibrations from his baritone voice sealed your fate, tipping you over the edge as your body tensed up and you whined out, your eyes clenched shut as you felt waves of pleasure crash violently over you.

He helped you ride out your high as your sleepy brain tried to focus itself. You finally were down to earth enough to look down at him, a lazy smile crossing your lips.

"Good morning, love," he started, before making his way up your body and kissing your lips gently, the taste of yourself on his tongue.

"Morning," you lazily smiled.

"You know, about last night,"

"I'm stopping you right there," you started, "Let's just... have our morning, then talk about this later."

Joe smirked and nodded, watching as you shifted yourself downwards, you and him finally realizing how hard he really was after eating you out.

His tip was bright pink and flushed, throbbing as precum leaked from it. You gently wrapped your hand around it. He let out a shuddered breath as he felt you grasp it, swallowing when one of your hands cupped his balls.

Suddenly, he gasped, your lips going around the tip, some tension released as he felt your soft skin against him. Your lips started to slip up and down his shaft, his lips parting as his eyebrows furrowed. His hands found their way to your scalp as you continued your movements.

Abruptly, you pushed yourself all the way down, taking him all the way in, relaxing your throat the best you could as you felt him stretch it out.

"Fuck, love, your mouth is so- fuck" he gasped when you pulled yourself back up, tears welled up in your eyes from trying to suppress your gag reflex.

Your hand continued to stroke him as you did your best to catch your breath, but Joe suddenly stopped you.

"Stop, stop," he panted, "Don't want to cum yet. Want to cum inside you, is that alright?" he asked politely.

Seeing as you were on the pill and he knew that as well, you smiled and nodded, moving swiftly up his frame as you were now face to face.

"Beautiful," he muttered as he raised his hand to caress your cheek as you began to hover yourself over his shaft.

You positioned yourself then slowly descended down, both of you gasping at the sensation of his cock seemingly splitting you open. You couldn't contain your moans as your eyes closed in ecstasy, trying your hardest to adjust yourself.

You struggled with your composure as you continued to bottom yourself out, hushed gasps and whimpers leaving your lips as you felt your tight heat completely cover his hard shaft.

At last, your body finally got used to the familiar feeling of him inside you, causing you to begin smooth and slow movements across his pelvis, making him groan out at the sensation of your heat dragging across his cock.

Up and down you went, doing your best to keep with a rhythm, Joe's groans of bliss driving you to go faster, harder.

Soon enough, you were disregarding the man underneath you, now using him to pleasure yourself as you lost yourself in your own ecstasy. You bounced on him with no motive other than to make yourself cum.

"Come on, love, use that cock," he gasped, "Use that cock to make yourself cum, come on."

His words of encouragement went straight to your core as you felt yourself get closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. You couldn't help but keen for more, looking like an angel on top of him, sweat sparkling on your chest, your breathless expression enough to make Joe cum right then and there.

Finally, you felt the coil inside you crack like a whip, waves of heat and euphoria crashing over your body, making you tense and shake as you let go, your cunt clenching around your partner's cock like a vice, starting a chain reaction, the feeling of him cumming inside you while you orgasmed almost enough to make you build up again.

You panted as you dismounted him, slipping away to his side on your back, your chest rising and falling with each breath. He helped ground you, wrapping his arms around your blissed-out form, whispering sweet nothings of praise into your ear, telling how amazing you did and how lucky he was to call you his.

"Fuck," you managed to get out through labored breaths, your body still buzzing from your orgasm.

"Fuck is right, love," he smirked, letting his hand mindlessly drift up and down the bare skin of your arms.

After a prolonged silence, you finally spoke, "I trust you."

He looked down at you, grateful that you truly did trust him, trusting that he wouldn't ever do anything like what you thought.

"I love you," he muttered, now holding your face in his hands.

"I love you too."

#john shelby #john shelby smut #john shelby x reader #joe cole #joe cole smut #joe cole fanfiction #john shelby one shot #john shelby fanfic #john shelby imagine #joe cole imagine #joe cole fanfic

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

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helo love! i hope you're having a good day. kinda want a break from bf hq boys. can i ask for miya twins as reader's older brothers? 👉👈 i was thinking if she can be the manager of inarizaki just because i want aran to lose his mind from dealing with three miyas hahahaha. thank youuu ily!! ʕ•ε•ʔ

omg i lovelovelove the concept of the miya twins having a sister and now that i’ve gotten an ask about it skfsbfkj <3333 thank you for sending this and i hope you like it!!

MIYA TWINS WITH A YOUNGER SISTER

considering you and the two of them are only a year apart, you’re pretty close with one another. of course, the older you got, the more annoying they were, and there was this one era when they were like 9-12 that they made it their life mission to annoy you. but then they grew out of that phase eventually, and as they matured, they became more tolerable.

they’re not only teenage boys, but also your older brothers. they’re going to be annoying.

atsumu definitely does that sibling thing where he’s like eating a bowl of cereal or whatever and he enters your room, just stands there and chews really loudly, then walks back out without closing the door. it makes you want to kill him every time.

osamu probably just like tugs at your hair whenever he sees you because why not yk, especially if it’s in a ponytail or a braid. and this isn’t 9-12 year old osamu. this is like 15-17 year old osamu. he just grabs your braid and pulls. you might snap your neck one day honestly.

atsumu eats your leftovers. all the time. like literally all the time how do u still have 2 brothers and not 1

osamu comes and sits in your room like on ur couch or bed cause you have better wifi or whatever. he farts and goes “sorry :D.” he is not sorry.

sometimes the both of them team up on you and it’s so exhausting. but if you manage to get your mom on your side? consider them obliterated.

and yk what’s even more fun? when you and a twin team up on the other twin. it’s just always hilarious cause the other twin will act so betrayed vjshsdsk

anyways because you’re only one year apart, their friends are your friends and your friends are their friends. have you ever had to deal with a “best friend’s brother” type of thing where a friend of yours only wanted to come over because she heard that miya atsumu likes to walk around the house shirtless? yes.

she ended up being extremely disappointed at the fact that miya atsumu has a lot more respect for those living in the same house as him and doesn’t walk around shirtless. ironic.

but also atsumu does flirt with every single one of your friends.

flirt with his it’s okay <3

you’d think atsumu would be more protective or selfish about you being close with him and samu’s friends? nope.

it’s osamu

like, for example, every time he sees you walking alone with suna he wants to either deck suna or deck you. he can never decide on which one.

he’s just very good at hiding things like that, and atsumu isn’t, so it always seems like atsumu gives more of a shit than osamu does. and honestly, osamu’s not even sure why it bothers him so much. he’s not mad that you’re friends with his friends, like, obviously he isn’t, because he’s happy to share, especially since you’re his sister. but at the same time, he can’t help but feel like he really can’t have anything for himself you know? sounds pathetic and selfish but he can’t help it.

i think you bring it up at some point and ask him if he’s bothered by it, and it took a whileee before he admitted that yes, it kinda does. it made sense in your head though, only because he’s your brother, and obviously you’re not gonna stop being friends with them, but you understand. they were his first, in a sense.

but!!! he’s not gonna lie, osamu loves the fact that he can trust his friends with you. like if anything were to ever happen to you, he knows his friends will react the same way he would, and that alone kinda reels him in.

since you’ve known aran since you were really young, he’s kinda like a third older brother to you. he always acts like a mediator between you and your brothers (and is always on your side, even if you’re in the wrong. so what if his favoritism is showing?). you genuinely feel like you can turn to him for anything at any point if you can’t turn to your brothers first.

but out of all their friends, you’re closest to suna and you can’t explain why. he’s just so nice to be around and if you’re left alone with him, it can’t ever be awkward, even if it’s completely silent and quiet. plus, suna’s probably covered for you a couple of times if we’re being honest :)

anyways!

protective wise, they’re honestly a lot better than you’d think they’d be. like yeah they’ll give you hell if you even mention the fact that you might have a crush on someone, but in reality, they just want what’s best for you, and they want you to always be happy.

obviously, if the person of your choosing really doesn’t seem like they have your best interest in mind, your brothers will be extremely blunt about it. like i said, they want what’s best for you, and they’re not going to sugarcoat anything at all.

good luck trying to get your opinion in on their love interests they’re suddenly incapable of hearing. hypocrites and double standards <//3

they will do the whole interrogation thing, but it’s mostly because they don’t wanna look like they’re softies. they want the person to fear for their life if they even consider hurting you.

in regards to comfort;

osamu is the best listener there is. genuinely. he just sits there and lets you talk his ear off. he won’t care if you spend hours doing it. if it helps you relax, and calm down, then he’s all for it.

atsumu is who to go to when you’re sobbing and need to get your mind off of something. he’s great at distracting you, but healthily. he’s not very good at the talking thing, and he will listen if you need him to, but go to him when you don’t want to think about anything anymore, yk?

btw!! both of them are secretly huge suckers for the drama in your life. if there’s some friendship drama, they want all the details. they’re giving you the best reactions and the most ridiculous advice, and are definitely heating you up more than they should be but, what else are you expecting?

as each other’s siblings, you’re insanely supportive of each other and your respective dreams. like when you found out osamu wanted to go into a completely different field than atsumu, you spent a thousand nights trying to convince him that what he was doing was right, and spent another thousand nights trying to convince atsumu that osamu choosing a different career path didn’t mean he was leaving him behind.

whatever your own dream may be, they’re hella supportive. like suffocatingly so. if it’s something they’re well versed in, like volleyball or cooking, they’re helping you out in every way they can, every second they can. but if they’re unfamiliar with it, they’ll either pretend they’re the most knowledgable people about it and end up embarrassing themselves, or will just support you any other way they can (for example, buying or promoting your things, or proofreading, or helping you edit, etc).

when the three of you are older and have lives of your own, you still take the time out of your day to catch up. sometimes other days are harder than others, because your lives are so different that there can be no time at all, but every time you see them through a screen or you meet up after hours in osamu’s restaurant, or you and osamu sit front row at one of atsumu’s games, it genuinely doesn’t feel like any time has passed. you’re so different but the exact same.

they piss you off, insanely so, and you get on their nerves too. you’ve spat ugly words at each other, words you didn’t mean, and made each other cry, frustrated and angered one another, but at the end of the day, you’re siblings. at the end of the day, they’re the most important constants in your life. no matter what, they’re there.

you can always count on that, you know? :)

so are y’all gonna send me more prompts like these? 😼 please?

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #miya atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya twins x reader #miya twins x sister!reader #miya twins x sister

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iliveiloveiwrite · 5 years ago

Text

Secrets // D.M.

Request: CONGRATS BOO!!! Could I get a Secret relationship with Fluff 4 for Draco Malfoy pretty please at Hogwarts??? Also I was wondering if it could be with a Hufflepuff reader? (I love Hufflepuff x Slytherin pairings) THANKS AGAIN FOR DOING THIS BOO AND CONGRATS 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛 - @herstory-study

Fluff 4: “Is that my shirt?”

A/N: The first of my blurb celebrations!! Thank you, lovely!! I hope you enjoy!! It could be argued that I got carried away but there’s a large chance I could end up writing full fics for each request 😂 Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Fem!Reader

Warnings: secret relationships, some kissing, some feelings, a whole lotta fluff, a cheesy ending and an abuse of commas and semi-colons

Word count: 2.7k

There were some aspects to History of Magic that could be classed as interesting; the witch-hunts of Salem, for example or even the brief study dedicated to the founders of the very school you sit in. However, there was nothing remotely interesting about hearing the tale of the Goblin wars for the sixth year in a row.

You tap the feather of your quill to your cheek; jotting down a sentence every now and then to make it look as if you are paying the strictest attention to whatever Professor Binns happens to be mumbling about in that particular moment. You fade in and out of daydreams; letting your mind wander back to two nights ago when Draco had snuck you back into the Hufflepuff common room – stopping every few so often to draw you into another laughter-filled kiss.

You startle when a piece of parchment falls onto your desk. Folded like a paper crane, you only knew who this could be from. A sly glance over the blonde-haired teenager who’s attention is most definitely on the pacing of Binn’s ghost confirms your suspicions.

You delicately unfold the piece of parchment; smiling to yourself as begin to read Draco’s elegant scrawl: “Meet me at the Room of Requirement? 7:30pm?”

Anticipation curls in your gut like a ball.

A brief glance is all it takes for you to confirm. A brief glance in your direction from Draco; a subtle nod from you and your plans for the evening have been wiped clear and replaced entirely with Draco.

The bell rings. You stand, gathering your things together and placing them in your bag. A slight brush to your side is the only contact with the Slytherin you’ve found yourself head over heels for. A slight brush to your side and it feels like every inch of you is on fire; a reaction that only Draco has the power to elicit from you.

The day passes by slowly now that you have something to look forward to. A day where short moments are stolen behind tapestries or on less traversed corridors. Five minutes each time between lessons where you can quickly whisper a hello before dragging him into a kiss by his green striped tie.

Keeping your relationship a secret was a mutual decision; the fallout on both sides being something neither of you could be bothered to deal with right now. Instead, you were happier hiding in empty classrooms where you could have your fill of the Slytherin Prince, and he could whisper sweet nothings in your ear without the risk of anyone overhearing.

There were times when it was stressful; when the week had been too long and there had been no time to see one another. It was only then that you questioned the secrecy of your relationship.

But when you came together after a long period apart; everything returned back to normal and a smile found its way back to both your faces.

Your excitement for the evening makes it almost impossible to eat; picking at the food on your plate as you think about finally seeing Draco tonight. From your position at the Hufflepuff table, you have an excellent view of him, and he knows it. All evening, Draco sends you subtle winks and smiles from his seat at the Slytherin table.

You clench your fist; your fingernails biting into the sensitive skin of your palm as you resist the urge to throw yourself across both tables to him. You resist the urge to simply kiss him in front of his housemates.

You resist it all; every single feeling and urge because you know that in a matter of hours, he would be yours for the entire night.

Instead, you send a flirty smile back to the blonde-haired teenager before returning your attention back to your meal.

-----

The Room of Requirement is located on left hand corridor of the Seventh Floor. You knew from how he rushed out of the Great Hall that Draco would beat you to it.

With a large grin on your face, you walk past the section of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy three times. The entire time, thinking of Draco and how you’d like to see him.

On your third walk past, the large, ornate door appears. You don’t hesitate to pull it open and duck inside.

It’s never a different layout; always the same one that Draco imagines. A large, almost cavernous room with a grand fireplace that’s already lit and warming up the room. In front of the fire sits a couch big enough for an entire Quidditch squad but you know from experience that it’s perfect for the two of you to lie down on comfortably. A great bookshelf covers one of the walls; filled to the brim with ancient looking tomes and books, all there ready to read. You’ve taken advantage of such an offer in the past; reading to Draco after a particularly bad day.

Finally, pushed up against the furthest wall is a four poster bed covered in a thick, downy quilt and topped with blankets – both green and yellow to represent both houses. It was the cheesiest section of the room, and you had brought it up to Draco before – teasing him, but he simply shrugged and distracted you from further conversation.

You throw your outer robes on the bed, leaving you in your blouse, tie and skirt.

Draco remains seated on the large couch; his gaze focused on the flickering flames of the growing fire. Your arms snake their way around his shoulders; your hands trailing down his chest as you lean against the back of the couch. Pressing a small kiss just under his earlobe, you whisper, “I missed you today.”

Draco leans his head back, kissing the side of your jaw, “I missed you too.”

Letting go of him, you take a seat on the couch. In times like this, you never stray too far from the blonde-haired teenager, worried about how long it’ll be until you have a night like this again. An arm opens for you; you automatically press yourself into his side, inhaling the familiar scent of cashmere musk and roses. It was heavenly.

“How was your day?” He asks, voice quiet.

“It was boring until a note landed on my desk. Then it started to look up.”

Draco smirks, “How odd. Mine was taking the exact same route until someone responded to my note.”

You shift out of his hold; resting your head on your elbow that’s perched on the back of the couch. Your other hand pushes his hair back; pulling it out his eyes. He’s grown it longer over this year and stopped using so much product; it’s nice, more natural and a lot easier for you to run your hands through.

You open your mouth; trying to think of something to say but nothing comes to mind.

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Draco captures your lips in his. One of his hands settling on the back of your head whilst the other pulls you across his lap to straddle him. You smile into the kiss as your hands brace themselves on the back of the couch.

Breaking the kiss, you ask, “What was that for?”

He shrugs, “Nothing. I just missed you.”

“You’re missing me an awful lot.”

He kisses the underside of your jaw, “Can you blame me?”

You hum, “I don’t think I can. I’m missing you more too.”

“Then let’s not miss each other anymore,” Draco murmurs against your skin. Lifting his head just enough, he draws you in for another kiss effectively ending all conversation for the night.

-----------

You wake up tangled in the sheets of the four poster bed; Draco’s arm heavy across your waist.

As your eyes get used to the brightness of the room, they focus in on the clock on the beside table. Your eyes grow wide as you take in the time.

You’d slept through the lesson of the day already.

You launch yourself out of bed, shrugging off your pyjamas and rustling around to find your uniform.

“Draco!” You shout, pushing your arms through a shirt, “We need to get up, we’ve missed the first hour.”

Draco rolls over, groaning. Fastening your skirt, you kneel on the bed, “Love, we have to get up before the bell.”

He blinks his eyes open, grinning sleepily at you. Your resolve almost breaks then and there; happy to say to hell with it and get back into bed with him.

“I’m free second lesson,” Draco mutters.

You roll your eyes, kissing his lips briefly, “I’ll see you later?”

He nods, stretching his arms above his head, “I’ll see you later.”

Grabbing your outer robes and your bag, you rush from the Room of Requirement, fastening your tie as you bound down the stairs to Transfiguration.

“Where have you been?” is how you’re greeted by Miriam, your close friend and dorm mate.

You shrug, biting your lip knowing that there was no way you could lie yourself out of this.

Miriam narrows her eyes at you, “You never came back to the room after dinner and then you didn’t show up at breakfast. I was seriously worried. Where did you go?”

You look either side of you; checking that there’s no-one listening to your conversation, “Can you keep a secret?”

Miriam rolls her eyes, “Of course I can.”

“I was with Draco Malfoy,” You rush out in a single breath.

Miriam’s eyes widen and she pulls you to one side, “You were with Draco Malfoy? All night?”

You nod your head. Miriam puffs out a breath, “Well I didn’t expect that. How long have you been seeing each other? Tell me everything please!”

You laugh, “It’s almost ten months now, and I’ll tell you more at lunch, I promise.”

Miriam bites her bottom lip; glancing between you and the now open door to Transfiguration, deliberating whether it would be worth skiving the entire day to hear about your exploits with the Slytherin Prince.

She sighs heavily, deciding not to risk McGonagall’s wrath, “I want to hear everything at lunch – do not leave anything out, promise.”

Laughing once more, you cross your finger over your heart, “I promise.”

-----

Until lunch, Miriam sends you excited glances and knowing smiles. In between second and third period, she comments on the fact that she didn’t even think that you were seeing someone – not to insult you, but she just assumed that you holed yourself up in the library where you studied as late as you could.

Miriam practically bounces up to you when the bell rings announcing lunch. She keeps her questions to herself until you both take a seat at the Hufflepuff table, filling plates up with whatever took your fancy.

“So how did it start?”

You take a sip of pumpkin juice before beginning, “Over last summer, my family got invited to one of the many balls thrown by his parents. I don’t usually go to those things, but my parents asked me to join them this one time; I think they were worried because I’d spent too much time in the garden studying the plants. So I went with them and Draco’s father asked him to ask me to dance and it all stemmed from there.

“He sent me a letter the day after thanking me for an entertaining evening and wondered whether I would want to meet up again. I agreed and then from there it evolved into this.”

Miriam’s smile drops into a frown when she asks her next question, “Why keep it a secret? Was it his decision?”

You shake your head fiercely, “It was both ours. We were both equally as worried about the fallout from our families and our houses.”

“But surely if Lucius Malfoy asked Draco to dance with you, he wouldn’t mind?”

You tilt your head, thinking, “Perhaps not. He wouldn’t mind the blood status, but he might mind my being a Hufflepuff,” You shrug, “Anyway we haven’t gone public yet.”

“Ten months is a long time to keep this a secret.”

“It’s not like it hasn’t been hard and that there haven’t been times where I wanted to shout it to the entire wizarding world, but for now, it’s a secret.”

Miriam nods; the frown still expressed on her face. She reaches out her hand to yours, taking it tightly, “You’ve told me now though so that’s a shoulder to lean on should it get too much again.”

You beam at your friend, “Thank Merlin for you, Miriam.”

Miriam goes to reply but she’s distracted by someone approaching the Hufflepuff table. She lets go of your hand and nods her head to something behind you.

Turning in your seat, you find Draco patiently waiting. You smile at him, “Draco, how can I help?”

“I was hoping I could talk to you for a minute… about our last History of Magic lesson? You see, I didn’t take any notes and I was wondering if you had some.”

You smirk, “Why don’t we go outside? That way I’m not cluttering up the table for the others that are still eating.”

Draco grins, nodding at you understandingly, “Wonderful idea. Lead the way.”

Hoisting your bag on your shoulder, you send a wink in Miriam’s direction. She returns one with a laugh before beginning to eat once again.

Draco follows you from the Great Hall and to a less busy corridor. You lean against the wall with a smirk, “Now did you really want my notes, or did you already miss me?”

“More the latter than the former,” Draco admits with a small smile. He frowns though as he takes in your uniform, his eyes running up and down, “Is that my shirt?”

You look down at your clothing, only now realising that the shirt you had put on in a hurry this morning was indeed Draco’s. The arms being too long that you had to roll them twice before you could even start writing something.

You giggle, “I think it is.”

“I only wondered when I had to walk back to my common room shirtless.”

“No!” You shout, delighted at the thought of Draco running shirtless through the corridors.

Draco laughs, nodding, “I had my outer robes of course, but there was very little underneath.”

You clap your hands in sheer delight, “I’d give you back your shirt, but I’ve become awfully fond of it, you see.”

“Oh you have?”

Nodding, you say, “I have. It smells a lot like you which is great for when I miss you.”

Draco groans, throwing his head back, “If we weren’t in public, I’d be kissing you senseless right now. I didn’t realise how good you would look in my shirt.”

“Why don’t you?” You challenge.

Draco’s mouth drops open, “What?”

“Kiss me senseless.”

“Are you sure? We’ve kept this secret for so long,” Draco comments, a finger pointing between your two bodies.

You shuffle closer to him, “I’m sure. Ten months is long enough to keep you a secret, I’m happy to tell everyone now.”

Draco wraps you in his arms, not hesitating to kiss you. You gave yourself entirely to the kiss; pushing yourself off the wall and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your heart skips a beat when one of Draco’s hands starts to draw aimless patterns on the small of your back, sending heat rushing through your body. You sigh against his mouth before pulling away; repressing the urge to continue as the need for oxygen has become too great.

He presses one last gentle peck to your lips before grinning widely, “Are you really sure you want to go public?”

“Super sure. So sure in fact I’d make out with you again to prove my point.”

Draco raises an eyebrow, “Tempting but I say we go back to lunch. I think your friend had more questions.”

You grin at the thought of Miriam’s reaction to see you walking with Draco, “It sounds too good to pass up,” You hold your hand out to Draco, “Lead the way.”

It was all worth it when Miriam’s reaction to seeing you sit back down at the Hufflepuff table with Draco in tow was to spit out her pumpkin juice.

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

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @iamobscuring

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obx-beach @obxmxybxnk @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey

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no-droids · 5 years ago

Text

Just the Translator

Part Ten of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.6K

Warnings: There is rough sex in this. THERE IS ROUGH SEX IN THIS. Do NOT read if that offends you. There is also more anal stuff—NO FUCKING (not yet). Uh, canon-typical violence, grumpy Din Djarin, some fluffy moments, Baby Yoda being a little troublemaker, bit of a cliffhanger ending BUT NOT TO WORRY PALS I ALREADY GOT QUITE A BIT OF THE NEXT PART WRITTEN

A/N: ***Please take a second to visit this googledoc, in it are useful links regarding the BLM protests and what we can do to help. Here is a separate link to where I originally addressed this and shared more thoughts***

***

Whelp. At least you’re in a good mood.

In contrast, Din and the kid have been causing problems all morning, the both of them. Like two… two annoying, middle-aged children competing to see which one is less mature.

The smaller of the two, and older (most likely) is bouncing with energy. Acting a complete fool. Ready and willing to launch out of his restricting little sphere at any second, a bright green bundle of energy that slept way too well last night and is just rubbing it in at this point. He was fine earlier—checking out of the inn, picking up some food at a local market, riding in the Crest as it navigated towards the most isolated sector on this planet—but the hike to this field has been like pulling teeth.

In fact, Din is currently wearing a singular gauntlet on his left hand for that very reason—so this child’s hyper ass could be contained within the hovering, reflective prison. He’s restless, though, continuing to act out. At one point you suggest just letting him walk to let some energy out like yesterday, even if he slows the group down with his tiny little legs. Once you let the little menace out on parole though, he just continues to veer off in his own direction and irritate his dad even further.

And, oh stars—his dad.

Din has barely said a word, only answering with short responses when directly prompted and spending most of his energy just silently stewing inside his own little grumpy teapot on his head. The helmet is the only other piece of armor he’s donning besides the lone vambrace, and you’re surprised steam hasn’t started whistling through the top of it with how frustrated he is, how many times you’ve seen him curl his hands with impatience. At first it was amusing, though you know better than to tease him about it right now. You keep your mouth shut and try your best to wrangle the kid, doing everything you can to be helpful while also steering clear of unintentionally exacerbating his silent irritation, knowing Din isn’t in the mood for jokes after being interrupted at a very crucial moment last night. The sun shines directly on the front of his helmet and blinds you with every single annoyed step, so you follow just far enough behind him and try to use his enormous refrigerator of a body to shield your eyes.

At first it was amusing. But then the baby catches sight of a gorgeously patterned butterfly floating through the field that he probably wants to snack on for breakfast, and he breaks off from your entourage once more with a quiet little coo that should strike pure terror into the hearts of small animals everywhere.

Immediately you’re turning to go get him—but then a large hand quickly snatches the front of your shirt before you can take a single step, pulling until you’re colliding with an unarmored chest with an oof.

A bare hand catches your jaw and tightens until you’re staring deep into the thin blade of his visor, before Din whispers rough through the modulator, “As soon as he falls asleep.”

That’s all he says. And then he’s releasing you and letting you stumble back towards his wayward son a whole lot less amused than you were before, and a whole lot more achy. The baby shenanigans are far less amusing too.

“You’re killing me here, kiddo,” you breathe after quickly catching up with him, having to bend in half to lead him back towards his impatient dad.

His hot, moody… incredibly well endowed dad, thick arms crossed tight over his chest as he waits for your return.

The monster’s hand lifts high above him as his three fingers cling to just one of yours, the baggy brown sack exposing his pudgy little green elbow as he follows next to you with a waddle. It’s slow going, but at some point he decides to pull himself up onto your wrist and you catch him, cradling him in your arms before quickly hurrying back to Din.

Thankfully he begins to calm down a little after that. As you three eventually find a spot in the endlessly breezy field to settle into, the kid clamors back into his shield while Din carelessly drops the dark bag of supplies he carried from the Crest into the tall grass. You twist your back to let some of the stiffness out, rotating your arms to encourage more movement as he approaches.

“Same thing as yesterday,” he gruffs when he’s in reach, patting his chest again with a bare hand. “Hard as you can.”

“My… My hands hurt,” you eventually admit, not wanting to frustrate him even more and hoping you would be able to work on blocking today instead, but Din just nods while you gently brush your thumb along your sore knuckles.

“That’ll happen until it doesn’t,” he tells you quietly, reaching out to touch your elbow in a quick, awkward gesture of comfort and then dropping his arm to his side. Short, but not unkind. “Push through. You can do it.”

You nod, knowing that’s probably the very best motivation you’ll get from him. His beliefs, condensed down to quick, stunted sentences, presented with such unwavering surety that they must be truths. Weirdly, it works wonders for you. Maybe it’s just the person it’s coming from.

You drop into stance and then slam your fist into his chest before he’s ready, and Din steps back on impact with a small grunt while you bite your lip to silence your own noise from the pain reverberating up your arm.

“Good,” he huffs nonetheless, rubbing the spot on his chest he’s historically designated as target practice. “Good. You’re… hitting harder than yesterday. That’s… fuck. Good.”

“Good?” You ask lowly, chancing a quick look over at the kid. Who blinks directly back at you, wide-eyed and staring purposefully from his crib. You deflate just a little bit at the sight of him still wide awake, and Din’s fists are clenched by his sides when you turn back to him.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the pent up tightness in his body as you spend the next couple hours throwing more hits at him, different types. Left hooks, right hooks, crosses, jabs, elbow strikes, palm heels. He was absolutely right though—the more you make contact with him, the less you begin to feel the pain, until it eventually feels like nothing at all to you.

But then, at one point, you pull your hardened fist back, aimed and focused directly on that same spot on his chest once more—when suddenly his hand flashes up and he flicks his finger against the lower part of your open ribcage.

He barely puts any strength into it at all—it’s the pressure you’d use to tap someone on the shoulder if you were trying to get their attention, but for some reason the incredibly well-placed reminder throws you. A little fucking touch like that shouldn’t hurt nearly as much as it does, but you nearly tip sideways and have to catch your footing with how dizzy it makes you.

“That’s what’s called a liver shot,” Din tells you calmly, watching you wrap your hand around your ribcage and wince at the lingering pain through gritted teeth. “Keep your arm down like I told you. That’ll happen every time you wanna get lazy with me, little chicken wing.”

You hiss and shake your head a little bit, trying to clear the fog, and then purposefully tuck both arms tight to your sides. But then—

His hand flashes up again and taps the side of your face this time—not hard enough to hurt but enough to make you flinch on instinct and take a step back. “That arm stays up.”

Your quick huff of air is suppressed. Somewhat censored—it doesn’t duly portray the sharp flare of annoyance you experience. You do exactly what he says, however, and keep your arms in position in front of you.

But then you jerk back and sputter angrily when the tips of his fingers lightly connect with your cheek once more. “Stop that! My hands are up!”

“Then why’d you let me do it?” He asks, stepping up as you retreat to poke you square in your chest. “Stop letting me do it.”

He goes to tap your face again, but this time your forearm comes up to swat his away before he can make contact, and he seems pleased for the moment. Din steps back and hits his chest again. “Come on.”

He lets you get in just a few more blows before coming at you again. You smack his hand away and then go to throw another punch, but he’s quick. He cheats—goes for you twice in a row when you’re not expecting it, and taps the vulnerable spot on your side for the second time today. It hits you like a bullet and takes you a second to snap out of the abrupt shot of pain.

“Come on,” Din taunts once more, curling his mismatched fingers at you—one hand leathered and the other tan and bare. He sounds like he’s grinning under the helmet, starting to enjoy this way too fucking much. It makes your blood boil, makes you just stand there like an idiot for a few seconds and fume at his audacity.

Apparently you take too long getting pissed off at him. He comes at you first, going for your side again, but you shove his arm out of the way with a growl. Except his other arm flashes and you react instantly, ducking under the wide, careful swipe aimed for your cheek and then zeroing in on the same exact spot below his ribs he’s been torturing you with all day, the one left wide open while his arm misses its mark.

Except—yours isn’t a tap, or a flick. It’s a hard uppercut.

Air rushes through the modulator as he groans and stumbles sideways, gasping and trying to steady himself. Triumph surges through your veins as you watch him, shaking your hand out at your side to quickly encourage the numbness away, your knuckles not yet used to hitting bone. He clutches his side and shakes the helmet violently in an effort to regain himself, breathing hard through the filter and—

The visor instantly jerks to you and you’re already taking a step back on instinct, adrenaline roaring. He snaps upright as you continue to retreat—until you trip over yourself and plunge to the grass.

A reflection catches in your peripheral, and you whip your head to the side to see the kid completely passed out in his metallic cradle, eyes closed and mouth drooping a bit. The sight shoots pure exhilaration through you, but it’s nothing compared to the thrill of only seeing him there for a split second before chrome shields instantly slide shut over his head.

You look back to Din just in time to see him dropping his gloved hand back down to his side and taking quick steps towards you—and you react without thinking. You scramble over on your hands and knees and then launch forwards before you’re even halfway off the ground, finding your feet as you stumble into a run and hearing footsteps pick up behind you.

Maker, it’s been ages since you’ve run like this. You don’t even know why you’re running—you just do, it just feels like you should. Your body barrels through tall grass and your heart thunders faster than the sound of your pumping legs, louder than the wind whipping through your ears. You don’t know if he purposefully allows you to get this far or if you’re genuinely quick��

—nope. Nope, you’re not quick, because he suddenly bursts into a sprint behind you and gains way too much ground way too quickly. You try to break left as soon as you realize what’s happening, but he’s too fast and hooks an arm around your stomach just before you’re out of reach. Din yanks you back to his chest as he twists around and takes you both to the ground, his shoulder blades slamming down first and softening your landing with his whole body and a grunt, skidding you both to a halt in the endlessly wavy field.

The wind is knocked out of you regardless. You try and struggle off of him but the positioning makes it almost impossible—your abdominal muscles are no match for the strength of his arms wrapped around your stomach, keeping your body pinned tight to his as you wrestle to lift against him in the grass.

“Fight harder,” Din growls raggedly in your ear, and your pussy seizes with need when you feel how rock hard he is against your ass. It encourages you—you make a rough sound towards the sky and then lift against him with all your strength, and your elbow comes down hard into his ribcage. Air whooshes out of him and his arms loosen just slightly. You’re able to wiggle off him and start crawling away, but then he heaves over and snatches at your pant leg—

Which means you pull them down yourself as you keep clawing yourself forward by your arms, raw excitement coursing through your veins, the fabric pulling tight over your ass and then bunching around your thighs. You squeal and flounder and kick at him—but Din just grabs at your ankle and then pins your leg to the ground, pushing up and using your calves to clamor on top of you with brute strength, catching your underwear and ripping them down too. Your heart pounds and your pussy just about floods itself hearing him dig in his pants to pull his cock out, his breath coming heavy through the helmet.

Maker, you’re so fucking ready for it. You keep struggling just because your body is telling you to, but nothing close to the word ‘stop’ ever leaves your mouth, never even comes to mind. You feel wetness slicking your inner thighs as Din grunts and plants an arm next to your head, his bare hand shooting out to hover in front of your face. You flinch—but he keeps it there, palm open in front of your lips in silent expectation.

“Wet or dry,” he snarls when you don’t immediately react. “I don’t give a shit.”

Still, his hand stays right in front of your face long enough to let you make up your mind.

And… not lick it.

After a moment, Din makes a sound that drops another wave of white hot arousal down through your stomach—a furious, growly noise that resembles distorted static passing through the filter. He angles his cock against your opening and when you hear him muttering angrily, you think he’s scolding you for it. Calling you dirty under his breath, promising you you’ll regret saying that in a second. But no—he’s—

“Perfect. Perfect little girl, fucking perfect,” Din hisses darkly, pushing into your soaking entrance without anything but your slick to ease his way. “H-How are you—s-so fuck—ing—”

Oh Maker, you turn your head into the grass and cry out through the delicious, blissful intrusion, pushing your hips back against his—and Din curses as he quickly bottoms out, making sure he lurches fully into you before his hands find out exactly where they want to be. They land on your lower back and he mounts up, pinning your body hard to the ground with almost his full weight. It means you can rip out as much grass with your useless arms as you want—he doesn’t even give you a single moment now that he’s successfully rooted you to the crushed greenery. You bloom for him all the same, as soon as Din pulls out with a wet sound and then starts fucking you strong and steady.

It’s sharp. Biting. Even the pleasure has a hard edge to it, completely paralyzing you even if you could struggle in this position. His hands are pushing down so hard that the ground digs into your tummy and makes his cock angle and slam right into your g-spot each and every time. You want to moan out your ecstasy but he’s wringing the air from your lungs with every shattering swing of his hips back and forth, quickly speeding up as he goes and taking out a full night’s worth of deprivation on you.

“Ngh. Take. Cock. So. Fucking. Good—” Din grits with every mean thrust, the staccato growls of praise getting lost in the echoing, rhythmic clap of his hips. You can’t fucking breathe—the pleasure is too overwhelming, your face is pressed into the grass, he’s got almost all his weight on you. You’re helpless to do anything besides close your eyes, furrow your brows, drop your jaw, and just let him own your body in the middle of this beautiful oasis. The heavy, wild thrusts steal every sense away from you, any ability to think beyond the fractured piece of heaven he’s striking inside you over and over. You don’t even feel him grabbing your asscheeks and spreading them—

Somebody makes a pitiful, breathless whine—it’s you, you realize. You make that sound, because worn leather lands right on the entrance he was denied last night and shamelessly breaches it before anything else can interrupt him.

“Tight,” he hisses, slowly sinking his thumb all the way down to the knuckle while you clench your eyes shut and choke out his name, “—f-fucking tight—”

His cock pulses inside you and you bear down as hard as you can on it in return, trying to get accustomed to being penetrated in two places at once. He doesn’t move his thumb after that—he just keeps it there, deep inside you while he continues wrecking you with the brutal hammering of his hips from behind.

Still—the impropriety of it starts to burn you up, how… dirty it is. Getting the life fucked out of you in broad daylight, in the middle of a wide open field, the thickest finger he has buried deep in your ass, helpless to do anything else besides lay here and let him—you feel yourself start to clamp down, steadily getting tighter and tighter around the intrusions while he grits out hard curses and keeps giving it to you through the rapid build.

His name—you start repeating it into the ground like it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. The word scrapes from your throat over and over, and you try to pull at the grass but your hands are clenched into fists and you can’t seem to remember which muscles to use to open them.

“You like this?” You’re able to hear him grit from above you. “Like when I—fuck—when I fuck you l-like this? When I just. H-Hold you down and take—” he chokes, “—take what I w-want—”

You can’t respond, but fuck yes, you do. The kindling spark inside you suddenly flares up and starts to spread through your body like wildfire, tightening, tightening, tightening, but then—

He’s so pent up—Din cums.

Devastatingly early.

The savage thrusts suddenly stutter to a halt and the gasp he takes in sounds like it physically hurts him. Like the orgasm is just ripped out of him. His hold turns to steel on you, as if he thinks you can somehow get away right now, and Din cums deep inside your spasming cunt with a shuddering, desperate groan of your name.

It’s like it drains everything from him—he slumps, just conscious enough to slowly ease his thumb out of your tight asshole, and then he collapses in the grass next to you. You stay there for just a second and shake next to him, muscles feeling like they’re creaking even while just laying on the ground like this, completely motionless.

“Shit—was that—” Din pants, turning and scooting over to you to brush your hair out of your face with his bare hand, “was that… okay? Do you… do you need…?”

You’re still so submissive, still so high on the overwhelming rush of pleasure, your mouth opens and croaks out a response without your permission. “It was good.”

“Yeah?” He huffs, dropping back on the grass and trying to catch his breath. “Good.”

And… it’s true. It was good, it was absolutely fucking amazing. So overpowering, such a hard fuck that you almost don’t think about the fact that you didn’t actually cum from it. The thought doesn’t really even register with you fully, not yet.

Eventually you both push yourselves up, each of you equally lacking in energy, just in different ways. Din looks like he’s drunk—unbalanced and dizzy while he removes his glove and stuffs it into one of his pockets, before carefully tucking his spent cock back in his trousers. In contrast, you’re nothing more than another trembling blade of grass in an enormous landscape of them, flimsy and yielding to the powerful, rippling wind as you attempt to adjust your clothing.

It’s fine, you tell yourself on the slow, quiet walk back. Sex doesn’t always need to end in a fiery orgasm. Sometimes a rough pounding hits the spot, scratches that itch. You feel like you’re a newborn blurg trying to balance your oddly proportioned weight on two noodle legs as Din’s hand patiently guides you from your lower back, and a bright flare of arousal arcs through you feeling how gentle his hold is compared to the way his cum is steadily leaking from your throbbing, aching cunt.

You don’t need to cum every single time he fucks you. It’s fine.

***

Upon returning to the sight of the unbothered, napping kid, you both decide to walk a bit more, and you learn your lesson this time. The sun glints bright against Din’s left side while traveling in this direction, so you stick purposefully to his right the entire time.

In the meantime, you share easy conversation and attempt to regain some semblance of control over your still slightly… restless body. Slowly but surely, your feverish arousal for him dims and fades to the backburner, replaced instead by… softer, quieter feelings. There’s not a solid word for it, not really. If you were mixing on a palette, you’d start out with a base of gentle contentment and then add a big dollop of affection, diluted with silence until it’s a swirling, pastel… color you don’t have a name for, but cherish all the same.

The baby wakes up about halfway through the afternoon hike, and he’s better now too. Eventually your ragtag party finds a place to settle for the night—a small clearing in the field at the edge of a thick forest. There’s a sizable log and boulder situated relatively close together, with a wide open space to make a fire in the center.

Din disappears for a bit to go get some firewood from the looming forest while you entertain the kid; the log is tilted perfectly to allow you both to watch the sunset, and you easily converse with the riveting baby talk as if he’s an absolute genius.

“I’m not so sure about that, honestly,” you tell him diplomatically, receiving nothing but unintelligible babbles in response as he climbs all over you. “Well, no actually, because there’s two major schools of thought concerning that, the first being—”

He pops up in front of your face to interrupt you heatedly and you scoff, rolling your eyes over the loud gibberish. “Look, I’d appreciate it if we could tone down the passive-aggressiveness, okay? If we can’t have a respectful discussi—”

Three green fingers settle over your lips and you gasp at the nerve of him, forced to let him continue to ramble on your lap about absolutely nothing at all, the size of his ego soon growing to match the size of his ears.

“Hear that, shiny?” You turn your head and ask his father upon his eventual return, and Din grunts distractedly as he dumps the firewood down and rummages around in the bag for a lighter. Tilting your head back towards the kid, you prompt him with a raised brow. “Tell him what you just told me.”

The baby bursts into more nonsense, encouraged by your attention, and Din crouches down to set the wood into position in the dusky twilight glow while saying nothing at all, and it somehow manages to pass as listening intently.

It continues to go on like that far longer than you expected it would, the baby apparently having quite the bone to pick about something that’s been on his mind, and one point you have to rest your hand over his mouth so he finally stops babbling. “Hey, that’s not very nice,” you scold him quietly. “I’m sure his face is perfectly normal under there.”

The helmet turns just slightly towards you, unamused while you snort at your own joke for a little bit.

“I didn’t say it,” you remind him after far too long of just celebrating your own hilarity, clearing your throat through the stifled chuckles. “I’m just translating.”

“Oh yeah?” He eventually murmurs, beginning to ignite some of the crumpled twigs at the center of the pile, and if you worked at it, you could probably convince yourself he’s sharing your gentle smile. More muted than yours perhaps, but beautiful and easy on his face, fitting him simply and perfectly. “What did… What did he say I look like?”

You would’ve shot something ridiculous back at him, something snarky and facetious, but you stop short. You catch it—underneath his voice, it sounds… timid, almost. Uncertain. It makes you take just a second in responding.

“Brown eyes,” you tell him after a moment, and Din doesn’t visibly react, just continues to slowly add small branches to kindle the flame. It’s so quiet out here, but it’s different from hyperspace quiet. This quiet is… natural. Warm, and. Free. Fleeting, allowed to roam. In a way that hyperspace just feels compact, stifling. “He said you have… brown eyes. And a… a strong bone structure, striking features. A sharp, chiseled jaw, dark facial hair. And, uh. He also said…”

Din keeps silently feeding the fire until it’s crackling and bright, and then he settles back on his butt next to it, both elbows resting on his knees, not moving the visor towards you but waiting for you to finish regardless.

The stunning backdrop gives way to a stunning surge of bravery.

“He said you make a bunch of faces under there that nobody ever sees,” you say softly, blinking at Din in the fading twilight while the kid sits silently in your lap. “That you’re an open book. Behind a metal wall. And you have a really nice smile, I bet—he bets… he bets you probably do it more often than anyone realizes. And your… your hair starts to curl when you let it grow long, and. And you’re almost guaranteed to be drop dead gorgeous under there, and it’s a real fucking shame that you’ve probably never had anyone tell you it.”

Din tilts his helmet at you, looks at you for a long time—long enough for blood to rush to your cheeks and for you to get fidgety. But when he finally does respond, his voice is gentle through the modulator. “He said that.”

You mhm at him quickly, nodding your head and turning away as casually as you can, heart beating incredibly fast for some reason. “Just the translator.”

A lovely silence soon blankets the both of you, a warmth permeating through to your bones that has nothing to do with the steadily growing fire.

***

A little while later, the kid has retired to his reflective cradle and the dancing flames are the only source of light besides the bright moon hanging directly overhead. Din sits with his back to the large boulder and digs through the bag, pulling out all sorts of food you picked up before leaving the village this morning and handing them to you. Something red and unfocused flashes oddly against the curve of his helmet when he reaches his hand back in, but it’s only for a second—he’s already pushing more food at you and filling your arms with bags of dried meats, fresh fruit, and loaves of bread.

“Stars,” you whisper under your breath, examining the feast in the flickering firelight. “Here, take—take some of this, it’s too much.”

“There’s more in here,” he counters lowly, zipping the bag and dropping it somewhere on the other side of his body. “The kid hasn’t eaten all day. Might crawl away and catch himself a Gungan later if you don’t feed him soon.”

“No, I mean—” you let all the food drop into your lap and start sorting the items, “—you need to eat. What do you want? There’s plenty.”

“I’m not hungry,” he answers, far too quickly to have actually taken a moment to check. “Just give me whatever you two don’t eat when you’re finished, I’ll put it back in the bag.”

Okay, if he’s gonna play it like this, you’ll just have to choose for him. You’ve already dedicated at least two bags of dried meat to the kid, which takes care of him. So, you take an extended moment to methodically find the ripest fruit in the bunch, the one with the most squish to it, and then search for the softest loaf of bread, not caring that Din is silently watching you. You gather both of them in your arms and then pluck three bags of meat from the pile, before depositing all of them back into his lap.

“Eat,” you urge quietly, grabbing another portion of food for yourself, heavy on the fruit. “Don’t inhale it. Please.”

With that, you grab the kid’s food and then scoop the little guy up from his shield with your free arm, standing and walking to the other side of the fire. You carefully plop yourself down with your back purposefully to Din, the kid happily finding a place on your lap with his back to you and reaching six little fingers out for the food.

You start eating, and after a moment, you smile around the large bites of fruit at the sound of metal clinking against stone. The baby, of course, refuses to even open the bag of dried meat you set in front of him, so you roll your eyes and do it yourself, hoping he’ll at least eat like an adult and give you some time to feed yourself. But no—the fifty year old creep demands to be hand fed, and any other day, you wouldn’t have let him get away with it.

Today, you’re just really fucking. Happy.

You’re unbelievably happy. Having spent a few days on this gorgeous planet, your two favorite people in the galaxy with you. It fills your heart with air.

You start out quiet, praying you aren’t bothering Din as he (hopefully) continues to relax and enjoy his food behind you. You begin humming your favorite melody under the sound of the crackling flames, the source of heat burning pleasantly against the curve of your lower back, setting another piece of dried meat into the kid’s cute little mouth and only just slightly annoyed that he refuses to do this himself. Admittedly though, you do love babying him, especially when he shows you his adorable little chompers.

One bite for him, two bites for you. That’s the deal, even though you’re hungry and you deserve way more than double his food intake rate. You try to be quiet enough that your gentle humming will get lost with the fire between you and Din, and he never says anything or tells you to cut it out, so you just continue to let your cheerful mood provide a quiet soundtrack to the moonlit evening.

Even better, you and the kid actually finish snacking before he does, and you’re more than willing to wait for him, thrilled that this is actually happening. It’s so simple, such a throwaway thing, but. Knowing he used to eat his meals as quick as he can and now he’s comfortable enough to just take a second and enjoy it… you don’t know, there’s something inherently meaningful about it, something that you specifically notice. Something about this, about sitting around a fire and sharing a meal together for the first time—even with your back turned to him, it just feels… familial. In a way. More than it’s ever felt before.

You have a little moment. It’s nice. You drop your head back and gaze up at the night sky, in awe of how different the stars look from this side of the galaxy and remembering how far you’ve come. The kid follows suit, leaning back against your tummy and blinking silently at the universe, the star-speckled sky reflecting in his gigantic dark eyes.

He starts to doze after awhile, listening to you hum softly to yourself, but the noise of a helmet finally lifting from the boulder and most likely fitting itself back in its rightful place snaps him awake just enough. The kid pushes off you and waddles over to his dad, and you scoot yourself back over to your little log while he unceremoniously clamors up onto Din’s thighs.

Admittedly, it’s really fucking cute. The visor moves just enough to watch him plop his little green butt down and find a comfy position on his lap, not helping but not preventing the movement either. A heartwarming, silent kind of tolerance hardened men have for innocent little creatures that makes you bite your lip to hide your smile. What a softie.

You sit there in companionable quiet, staring deep into the dancing firelight and losing track of time just a bit. They’re hypnotic, the flames. Crackling and popping, warming just the forward-facing parts of you and nearly burning your cheeks, but you love it. Breathing in the woodsy campfire air, hearing the gentle breeze float through the field surrounding you, the quiet forest waving dark and deep in the distance. The midnight sky stretches long above you and the stars seem… brighter than they were on Arvala-7. They probably aren’t—that planet is practically abandoned and has almost no light pollution whatsoever compared to Naboo, but… maybe it’s because now they feel… in reach. Something you can touch. Interact with. Something you can cover your eyes, blindly point at, and then say—that one. That’s where we should go next.

After awhile—you have no idea how long—you blink your gaze over to Din and startle to find the helmet facing you directly, shamelessly, the kid completely passed out on his lap as the flames reflect in the visor.

Without intending to, you’re already thinking back to earlier today. How quickly he bolted after you, how strong he was bringing you to the ground, pinning you under him and taking what was so rudely denied to him last night.

You didn’t actually finish, and you can still feel it simmering down low. Din’s cum has been steadily leaking from you all day, and while you eventually became successful at blocking out the sensation, it suddenly slams to the forefront of your mind again. The visor pierces deep into you while you start to squirm just a bit against the rough log pressed into your back. You can still feel him when you flex your lower muscles, and you bite your lip and do it repeatedly while blinking at him, waiting, squeezing your thighs together and loving the reminder.

He still hasn’t said anything to you, and you start to get antsy under his stare. Your body works itself up even more, fueled by the flames reflecting in his helmet. After a few more moments of silent tension, you’ve finally had enough.

“Din,” you whisper, trying not to make it sound like a whine and his head quickly lifts when you didn’t even realize it was slightly tipped forward. The helmet rolls back in a drowsy little circle, as if his neck is suddenly remembering the weight burdening it. Embarrassment instantly floods you. “Oh. Shit. I’m so stupid. I’m sor—”

Only he’s already pushing himself up with his free arm, lethargic and drunk with exhaustion, not saying a single word as he sets the conked out kid in the cradle and closes the shield over his sleepy little head with the push of a button.

You bite your lip as he drags himself over to you, swinging a leg behind you and then dropping down without any ceremony, firmly inserting himself between the uncomfortable log and your back. Your butt is shoved forward from the sudden displacement but he’s not done. Din wraps both his arms around you and pulls, dragging you up onto his long torso while his legs close under you and you’re off the ground completely.

Oh Maker, he’s already thousands of times more comfortable than sleeping up against the log would be. He makes the best bed in the galaxy, big and warm and firm under you, letting you stretch out long on him. You lounge on his lap and drop your head to his shoulder, resting your arms on top of his as they drape heavy across your belly.

“Sorry,” he gruffs, voice low and rough through the modulator. The filter rings sharp through your ear when it’s pressed up against his helmet like this. “Just need a few hours. Didn’t… didn't sleep great last night.”

You close your eyes and internally scold yourself, now taking responsibility for his lack of rest for the past two days. Shit. You don’t actively respond, feeling slightly put out, but your body is of another mind altogether. It still continues trundling down the steep slope you shoved it towards earlier, when you stupidly thought he was giving you eyes under the helmet instead of him being passed out cold. You wiggle against him just slightly under the guise of finding a comfortable position, but it has unintentional consequences.

You breathe out a soft sigh when your hips move over his cock, biting your lip at the sensation but trying so hard to stop it in its tracks. He’s exhausted, and he already fucked the life out of you today, there’s no way he’ll want to go again this soon. Except—then he shifts and mmms low in his throat.

“And you,” Din murmurs quietly, reaching a hand down to slowly push under your pants, “need to start being more honest with me.”

“What are you t—oh, stars,” you whisper, your body shuddering as one of his thick fingers slowly dips into your slit.

“Shit, you’re wet,” he groans, sinking his hand down lower to feel remnants of himself still easing its way out of you. Your lashes flutter as your jaw drops, and his cock gets hard against your spine almost immediately. “You’re fucking… soaked. I—I asked if you came and you said yeah,” he whispers low to you, but you shake your head. “Why’d you lie to me abo—”

“No, no—” you protest breathlessly, “—you asked if it was okay, and then I said—”

“You said it was good. It’s not good if you didn’t cum,” he grunts quietly, and the tip of his finger now drawing tight circles over your clit makes it damn near impossible to argue. “I didn’t fuck you right if you didn’t cum. You should be fucked right.”

“Maker, you fuck me exactly how I need to be fucked,” you whimper, tilting your head until your lips are pressed against the curve of his helmet while his hand steadily works under your pants. “And—oh, fuck, that’s… h-however you need to fuck me.”

“Fuck—obedient little thing…” he huffs, starting to rub harder over your clit. “What I need is for you to cum. From now on, you’ll tell me. Say yes.”

“Yes,” you moan into the beskar, your eyes fluttering back at the slowly building pressure.

“Say, ‘yes, Din,’” he breathes.

“Yes, Din,” you dutifully repeat, lifting your hips up against his hand, and he groans softly through the modulator.

“Say, ‘Din, I need something to cum on’,” he whispers.

You’re delirious, you don’t even catch it before most of it is already out of your mouth. “Din, I need something to c—” you cut off but he’s already reaching down between your bodies to ease his cock out, before yanking your pants down your ass just enough to position himself up against your entrance.

He rocks his hips up and he slides in easier than ever before, and you… don’t know what you’re expecting, but he surprises you nonetheless. He doesn’t start thrusting into you at all. Even though he’s rock hard inside you, thick and pulsing and breaking you open, he doesn’t move a single inch. He just keeps himself there, continuing to rub circles around your clit and giving you exactly what he prompted you to ask for.

Something to cum on.

Your body tenses and squeezes him, and Din shushes you before you realize you were making noise. His free hand comes up to settle tight over your mouth and guide you turn your head away from his helmet. At first you think it’s because your heavy breathing was probably fogging the visor up, but no—his fingers leave your pussy for a split second and you hear him maneuver himself out of it. The hollow noise it makes thunking to the ground is beginning to become your favorite sound in this universe.

But then of course, Din buries his face into your neck and starts talking again, whispering low praises behind your ear with that bassy, dark chocolate rasp, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. His fingers return to your cunt to slowly rub your clit and his cock throbs hotter than sin inside you, building your pleasure into a strong, slow crescendo.

You start to whimper unintentionally, but his hand is wrapped tight around your mouth, muting and confining the desperate sounds to your throat. His finger presses down harder on your clit and his cock flexes inside you.

“That’s it, sw—sweet girl,” Din mutters, his voice interrupted by his own staccato breaths and tight gasps the longer he talks you through it, the longer he keeps himself perfectly still while engulfed in your drenched, fluttering cunt. “That’s—that’s it, I can feel it c-coming. Fuck—make it good for me, give me a good one—”

His words shove you right over a cliff you didn’t even realize was there until you were dangling over the steep drop for an extended moment like a cartoon. Everything squeezes around him unbearably tight—your hands dig into his forearms, your back arches up against him, your pussy constricts his thick cock until you feel like you’re hurting the both of you with it, and Din’s breath catches next to your ear while you’re both suspended in thin air for a split second—

—before you’re convulsing in pure bliss, flooding his cock with cum while he rasps out, “good girl,” into the crook of your neck and rocks his hips up into yours. The few heavenly inches of movement hits something jaw-dropping inside you and nearly makes you scream against his palm, launching your body even higher into mind-bending rapture. Fucking Maker, you cum hard for him, on him, around him. You downright drown his cock in your pleasure, suffocate it and work out the aching tightness in your pussy all over him until you feel like you can’t breathe anymore.

“Mmm…” Din murmurs quietly, continuing to circle your swollen clit hard through the shattering aftershocks. His voice is deep and sinful and vibrates your whole back with its frequency, but something underneath it also sounds as if he’s considering, before he seems to land on an answer to a wordless question he just asked himself. “…One more.”

And, like the fucking Maker himself commanded it, another blazing hot wave of fire suddenly rips you apart and sends you spasming rhythmically around the throbbing cock buried inside you once again. This one wrings you completely dry, robbing you of every sense. The ragged whine you make behind his hand must be too loud—his fingers quickly tighten around your jaw and lock down, keeping you as still as possible while you give him everything you have to give.

Eventually the sparks die out and you’re left a shell of what you once were, clamping down hard on him and shuddering your bliss at the night sky. He lays there silently under you, holding you as you fall back down to reality. Your breathing is a mess and so is everything below your waist, and your whole body jerks when Din carefully slides his hand from your pussy and rubs gently over your thighs, your tummy, your chest.

“That was…” you croak out, trying to remember how to speak, “ … g-good.”

“Go to sleep,” he whispers, pressing soft kisses against the side of your neck. You can hear the gentle grin he’s hiding from you, knowing he completely incapacitated you.

“But what about—” you start to protest, when Din’s teeth sink into your flesh and your pussy seizes up tight around him, making him choke a hoarse little groan into your skin.

After a moment, he eases his throbbing cock out of you, and he resets your clothing while you whimper in distress. “Go to sleep,” Din murmurs, before softly kissing your neck once more, and your eyes slowly droop against your will. Fuck, his body beats a king size mattress any day of the week. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

***

He…

He isn’t.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #smut #reader insert #fanfic #star wars

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disgruntledspacedad · 4 years ago

Text

The Rules of Engagement (5/5)

part of the The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 5.7k

warnings: 18+ - drugs, violence, language, alcohol, smut.

a/n: many many notes at the end. unbeta’d as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Javi clicks off the radio as soon as the car starts, and you spend the first half of the ride in silence. For a while, he seems to be focused intently on driving, but you know him well enough to see the wheels turning in his head. Sunglasses hide his eyes, but still, there’s something about that little frown that suggests that his thoughts are far from lunchtime traffic.

It doesn’t bother you - your mind really isn’t on the road, either.

“I can’t figure it out.” You’re startled to find that it’s your voice breaking the silence.

“Can’t figure out what?” Javi takes a deep drag from his cigarette. He’s still not looking at you.

“Who did this, and why.” You swallow past the emotion that wells in your throat, firmly redirecting your thoughts to facts and evidence. “It wasn’t an accident, Peña, I’m ruling that out now. Somebody planted a bomb in Emilio’s store.”

Javi purses his lips tightly.

“And call me crazy, but I can’t help but think that it has something to do with Escobar.” Your voice is rising now as you warm to the argument. “Like, this is his MO, right? Bombing civilian small business, terrorism, chaos…” you trail off, furrowing your brow as you rest your forehead against the cool window. “Just… why here? Why Bogotá?”

Why Emilio?

Javi’s face freezes. He’s quiet for a long time. You watch him warily from the corner of your eye. To the casual observer, he’s all calm stoicism, snuffing his cigarette and reaching both hands to finger the steering wheel. But you know better - you read the subtle stiffness in his shoulders, the carefully shuttered expression, the white knuckle grip that suggests that he’s far more stressed than he’s letting on.

Something wild throbs in your chest and you have a sudden, irrational suspicion that he might know more than he’s saying. The moment stretches, and just as you’re ready to panic, Javi huffs a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know,” he admits in a low voice, and the bubble of uncertainty shatters. “But I’m going to find out.”

There’s something cold in his tone, a controlled, a calculated malice that threatens vengeance, and you rest your forehead against the window, wondering at the profound sense of reassurance you draw from his words.

Out of nowhere, a truck swerves in front of you, and Javi leans hard on the horn, cursing and flipping off the driver out the window as you weave past him.

You can’t help a small smile at that - Javier Peña, taking out his worries on the unassuming drivers of Bogotá.

Again, silence stretches between you.

“I think it’s time you told me about your morning.” Javi’s voice is soft, but still, you know it’s not a request.

“There’s not much to tell,” you confess. Again, not entirely true, but you haven’t even begun to process it all, and the details are overwhelming to contemplate. “I volunteered to stay over at headquarters. They wouldn’t put me in the air two nights in a row, but still, I wanted to know what was happening.”

His lips twitch at this.

“It was quiet. I left around seven, I think. I’m not entirely sure. Figured somebody would call me with news. And then…” You pause, swallowing hard. “I was almost home. At the corner of 70.”

You remember waving to Emilio, the way his eyes had lit up when he’d spotted you, his toothy grin. He’d been so proud, introducing you to that guaro.You blink, bracing yourself against the yawning pit of grief that threatens to open in your chest. Not now. Please.

“Then the store exploded.”

You and Javi draw a deep breath at the same time. The ensuing silence is stifling.

“Then what?” he prompts you gently.

You glance up, noticing that he’s parked the car. Neither of you move.

“I stumbled back,” you continue haltingly. You just want this conversation to be over. “It’s all kind of a blur, from there. It was really weird, like… like being in a time warp, or something.”

He nods grimly, like he understands.

“I decided to go to your place…” you’re nervous, confessing this part to him. As tense as he is, as awkward as things have been, any reference of your previous liaisons feels like stirring hot shit with a stick. “I just, I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You didn’t wait for the police to arrive?”

Desperation and indignation rise in you. “Javi, I’d just witnessed my fucking apartment go up in flames, okay? Excuse me if I didn’t perform to your exacting standards!”

He presses his lips together in a firm line, and oh, fuck. You realize that you’ve just called him by his name again - something you’ve made a point not to do since that horrible morning in the shower.

Ugh.

You drop bonelessly against the passenger seat, all of the fight leaking from you. This fucking day… god, just, fuck this day.

“I’m sorry.” Javi’s voice is so whisper-quiet that it almost doesn’t register.

You take three deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.

“It’s fine,” you say, once you’re grounded again. “But I’m - I’m just done talking, okay?”

“Yeah.” Javi opens his door with a deep sigh. “Okay.”

♠

Javi lets you in, and you go straight for the sofa, settling awkwardly with your hands in your lap.

God, now what? You’re right back where you started - no home, no job to do, and no answers. Exhaustion and helpless resignation swallow you whole, and you sit like that for a long moment, staring into the middle distance and fighting the urge to rest your head in your hands.

After a while - you’re not sure how long - you notice the absolute silence permeating the apartment. Javi hasn’t moved, hasn’t spoken. You’d totally forgotten he was there.

You glance up.

He’s draped against the front door with his arms folded defensively across his chest, frowning fiercely at nothing.

“Hey.” You aren’t aware that you’ve moved until you’re standing in front of him.

His eyes flutter shut and he exhales, long and slow, tilting his head back against the door so that he’s facing the ceiling, and okay, now you’re seriously freaked out.

“Javi?”

“I can’t do this anymore,” he whispers.

“Can’t do what?”

He grimaces like the sound of your voice is painful. “Please don’t make me.”

You take a half step closer, alarm bells screaming in your head. You have never, ever heard this man beg, not once in all the time you’ve spent together. “Don’t make you… Javi, what?”

His gaze flicks to yours, and you suck a sharp breath.

Javi looks absolutely wrecked. His eyes are wide and dark, brow furrowed deep, and he’s staring at you with so much longing in his expression that little sparks of electricity go zipping across your skin.

“God, Ears, baby, I was there,” he rasps. He takes one quick little step forward, as if to reach for you. “I went to your place as soon as I heard, as soon as the plane landed…”

You brain skitters to a stop.

Oh, Christ. He hadn’t told you that. You don’t even have time to wonder about it, though, because Javi is still speaking, words pouring out of him as if revisiting the memory has cracked him wide open.

“And it, it was a fucking crater, okay? And nobody had seen you, nobody had heard anything, and they had the fucking - the fucking body bags -” His voice cracks, and he presses his fists to his eyes, as if to hide his face while he gathers himself.

Horror floods you. You’re starting to put it all together now. You’d been so distracted by your own terrible day that you’d not once thought to ask about Javi’s. You imagine him at the bomb site, picking his way through ash and rubble, flashing his badge at firemen and emergency responders, firing off questions, watching them load up body bags…

Oh, fuck.

Javi shakes his head sharply, as if dispersing the memories, and when he looks up, his eyes are red-rimmed and wet. “Querida,” he breathes, pinning you with an expression of open desperation. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Oh.

It takes a lot to scare Javier Peña. You know this. He’s a fearless man. He has to be.

But this morning, Javi had been terrified. You recall his voice over the phone, tense and clipped, the blustered sigh of profound relief, the clattering footsteps as he’d raced up the steps, his eyes, not quick and efficient, but frantic as he’d taken you in, alive and healthy and wearing his clothes.

“I’m right here,” you whisper, unable to articulate just how profoundly you mean that. You’re still reeling from the implications of it all.

“I know,” Javi chokes. He blinks hard, almost like he’s baffled by it. “You’ve been right here the whole time.” He hitches a breath. “And goddammit, baby, I can’t sit here and listen to you say my name without wondering what the hell else I’m losing.”

Reality shifts and realigns in an instant. Fear and disbelief give way to fierce longing, and your voice comes out as a choked whisper. “Come here.”

Javi does, haltingly at first, as if wondering if you really mean it. You fall into his arms, and he pulls you close, reverently, as if you are the most precious thing in the world. He presses his forehead carefully to yours, catching your jawline with his palms and threading his fingers through your hair.

“God, baby,” he rasps. “When I saw you… When I heard your voice…”

“I’m okay,” you remind him, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m okay.”

He sighs deeply, and a bubble of tension you weren’t even aware of bursts at the sound. You melt into him, and he holds you tightly for a long, long time, swaying your bodies gently back and forth, your head tucked against his chest.

You tilt your face to him, pressing your lips to his skin, and he huffs brokenly, his body still wrapped around yours like he’s reluctant to create any space between you. He’s shaking as he takes your face in his hands, pausing just long enough to fix you with a wild-eyed, pleading glance.

“Okay?” he breathes.

“God, yes,” you gasp. “Yes.”

And just like that, Javi’s kissing you like a man without air, awkward and starving, catching the back of your neck with one hand, the other roaming beneath your shirt to stroke at your ribcage.

There’s nothing gentle about it. A month’s worth of desperation has been building in both of you, and now, Javi’s frantically mapping your body with his lips and tongue, peppering little licks and kisses and soft nips down your jaw and neck while you scramble awkwardly for the buttons of his shirt. You struggle to keep your fingers under control as one gigantic hand finds your ass and squeezes. You gasp, inadvertently popping his last button.

Damn, you liked that shirt.

Undeterred, you push it aside, finally free to explore his chest and back and belly for the first time in far too long. Javi’s skin is warm beneath your fingertips, his body smooth muscle and soft heat as he leans into you. His hands are snaking beneath your shirt now, one brushing the bare skin of your torso as it wanders up to grasp at your bra, the other gripping at the hollow of your hips. You arch into his touch, groaning low into his mouth, and he bucks in response, cock straining at his jeans, denim deliciously rough against your palm.

“What do you want, baby?” he gasps into the hollow of your throat. Those gorgeous hands have migrated back to your ass now, clutching with a greediness that leaves you panting.

“Just…” God, you can’t even think, your brain flickering in and out, overloaded with pleasure and pent up emotion and Javier Peña. “Just you, Javi. Now. Please.”

He whimpers, his erection digging rock-hard into your belly, and the sound nearly brings you to your knees - cool, collected, suave Javier Peña, keening for you.

Javi hikes you up so quickly that you yelp, hips pinning you as he drives you into the wall. You brace yourself for impact, but he’s already anticipated that - one hand cups the back of your head, cradling you protectively, the other reaching past your thighs to clench at your pussy.

You moan, rocking into him, bracing your elbows against the wall to grant him access. You shimmy your hips, and he hitches your skirt up with a fist, dragging your soaking panties to the side as he buries his fingers inside you.

“Oh,” you gasp.

Javi’s fingers pulse deep into your core, once, and then again, that come-hither curl of them driving you wild as he pumps through your juices. You scramble back, opening yourself as best you can with your limited mobility as he presses his knee beneath your leg to hold you in place.

God fucking damn, there’s something about being pinned to the wall by this man that leaves you trembling and leaking.

Groaning, Javi sinks his mouth onto yours, and you arch up to meet him, sucking sloppily on his lips, his stubbled jaw, whatever you can get to. You tug his hair hard, mostly for leverage, and he gasps, throwing his head back in a way that allows you access to his neck. You love Javi’s neck - it’s delicious, all fascinating gentle dips between tight tendons, and you relish the opportunity to explore each of its arcs and hollows with your tongue.

He shudders as you nip and suck and bite at him, grinding your body against his as you clench your legs around his waist.

You’re both panting at this point, skin slick with sweat. It’s hard to know where you end and Javi begins, but it’s so, so good, feral and desperate and heated, and somehow, he’s still managing to pulse his thumb at your clit. The motion sets a fucking fire in you, slow, deep waves of hot pressure building in your core.

“More, Javi,” you beg against his clavicle, shimmying your hips against his hand. Any other day, you’d be content to stay here, caught between him and the wall as he wrings your orgasm from you with the pads of his fingers. But there’s something else building in you, a desperation that has both nothing and everything to do with physical release, and you just need him closer. “I- I need -”

Javi growls, gently dropping you to the floor as he shucks out of his jeans. You help him along with trembling fingers, giggling incoherently as your heads brush clumsily in your haste. You take the opportunity to shrug out of your shirt and bra, and then Javi’s pinning you with a gaze that’s almost predatory, dark enough to send shivers of anticipation curling down your spine.

You back against the wall and raise a brow, daring him to come get you.

He does, hoisting you up easily - he really is stronger than he looks. One knee hikes beneath your thigh, his opposite hand clenched behind your ass, thumb digging deep into the hollow of your hip. You absently notice that he’s once again braced his opposite hand between your head and the wall, threading his fingers through your loosened braid, but you don’t have time to consider it, because he’s thrusting into you, quick, shallow pumps that leave you gasping for air.

It’s mind-blowingly amazing, and a wild, wanton part of you wonders why the hell you haven’t done this before - just kick off your clothes and go at it like animals in the hallway. You sink deeper onto him, angling your hips just-so, and oh fucking christ, he’s rubbing right against your clit, hard and fast and sloppy in the very best way.

You throw your head back, spasming around him, scrabbling at his shoulders for purchase. He’s still wearing his fucking shirt, and you cling to its open edges with enough force to rip. Javi hisses, rhythm faltering as he slips from you. For a moment, you pause like that, him holding you with shaking thighs, your lungs and skin burning, heaving breaths mingling hot on each other’s faces, but then he’s realigning himself, shifting his angle a little. You shimmy up the wall, desperate to accommodate.

The second round is even more brutal than the first, choppy and shallow. Your abs are burning; it’s a difficult position to maintain, but that familiar fullness is building achingly delicious in your core, so you hold out, gasping. Javi’s breathing raggedly, sweat dripping from his forehead as he presses it against yours, eyes wide and unfocused as he thrusts into you.

He’s trembling with exertion.

“Fuck!” He’s slipped again. You sink to the floor, reaching for his wrist. He looks at you, face twisted in a resentful snarl.

“Javi,” you gasp, kissing him before he can react. What you’re doing is hot as fuck, but it’s not working right now. You’re both too tired, too desperate and shaky, and you need release. “Take me to bed.”

“Hmm,” he moans into your mouth. It must be agreement, because pulls back - you shudder at the loss of contact - and then hoists you over his shoulder in a move that makes your head spin. You giggle a little, breathless and giddy and almost incoherent with need.

Javi carries you through the apartment like that, you clinging to him like a koala bear with your legs locked around his waist and your head draped over his shoulder. He drops you lopsided on his unmade bed. Automatically, you flop over onto your stomach and gather your knees to your chest, remembering how he loves to take you from behind.

“No,” his voice is strained. A hand, surprisingly gentle, tugs at your shoulder, and you go with it, twisting so that you’re on your back again, sideways in the bed. “I need…” Javi’s panting, dark eyes burning a hole in you. “I need to see you, baby.” His voice breaks, his expression vulnerable, almost apologetic.

A rush of affection overtakes you, and you reach for him, pulling him close for another deep kiss. Javi straddles you, palming himself in preparation, and you have the foresight to shove a pillow under your ass - if you’re going to be doing this face to face, then you want him as deep as possible.

When you glance up, he’s watching you open-mouthed, absently tugging at his leaking cock like he just can’t help it.

God, he’s beautiful.

He sucks a startled breath, looking at you in wide-eyed wonder, and oh fuck. You’d said that out loud.

“Javi,” you whine, yanking him closer. You don’t have time to feel awkward, goddammit. You just need him. For real. Inside you. Right now.

You both shudder as he sinks deep into you. He stays still for a moment, and you clench against him desperately, urging him to move, dammit, but he’s holding off.

“Baby,” he rasps, glancing down at you, red-faced. “I’m not - I’m not going to last.”

That confession alone makes something swell tightly in you, and you buck your hips in response. “It’s okay,” you rasp, trying hard be good, to hold still, to not overwhelm him. “I won’t, either.”

He rocks against you, a tiny pulse, just enough to fucking tease, but it must be an unconscious thing, because he’s still looking you in the eye like he’s afraid you’ll reject him, or condemn him.

“Javi, please,” you keen, patience thoroughly spent. You reach up, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades and tugging hard. “I don’t care. I just need you. All of you.”

That gets him moving.

Javi rocks against you, setting up an achingly slow, almost careful rhythm, his left hand still cradled around the back of your neck to brace your head as he draws himself to the hilt, then nearly all the way out again. It’s gentle and sweet, but dammit, you want more. You pull your knees to his elbows to encourage him deeper, digging your heels into his back. Javi gets the message, because he twitches and groans, curling around your body and bracing himself against your shoulders, abruptly driving into you with a force that punches the air from your lungs - hard, fast, and deliciously brutal.

It’s exactly what you need.

You curl up against his chest, abs burning as you glance past your breasts to the place where your bodies are connected. The edges of his open shirt skim the sensitive skin of your ribcage, framing the view and drowning you in more sensation. Heat is pooling in you, tension building and sparking and curling your toes. There’s something surreal and wonderful about watching yourselves work in tandem, his hips and yours, pulsing and perfect.

Javi shudders, and you drag your eyes back to his face, not daring to miss a moment. Fuck, he’s gorgeous, and that expression alone, that little purse-lipped grimace of pleasure, is enough to drive you to the edge. Controlled, careful, restrained Javier Peña coming undone for you, rattled for you, staring at you like it hurts to draw a fucking breath in your presence… goddamn, you twisted little shit, you’re really liking that.

His rhythm is faltering now, thighs clenching erratically, breath coming in ragged little pants. You know that he’s close.

You reach up to stroke his cheek. “Javi,” you whisper. His eyes find yours, glossy and wild. His mouth is open, his brow furrowed. “It’s okay, baby,” you tell him. He trembles in response, a full body shudder, his eyes flickering shut.

“It’s okay. Let go.”

His breath hitches, and he bucks wildly, collapsing against your chest with a low, broken groan. The hot heaviness of him pulsing into you releases a shockwave of pleasure down you spine. You gasp as your core clenches, spreading his heat, but it’s not quite enough, you’re not quite ready, and you grit your teeth at the loss of friction as he softens inside you.

You watch his face twitch, relief and ecstasy and something else, something fierce and sharp that you can’t possibly name.

You groan, reaching your fingers down to your core, battering against him. You tug at your clit, index finger tap-dancing in that perfect circular motion that sends you straight over the edge as Javi flops bonelessly beside you.

Desperate for contact, you sink into him, still working to salvage that orgasm, concentrating hard on the rapid rise and fall of his ribcage with each chugging breath, the heat of his body wrapped around you like a second skin. His eyes flutter open, and there’s a look of quiet desperation on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he babbles, reaching for you with wide eyes. “Babe, I -”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” you reassure him, batting his hand aside with your elbow before he can interfere. The waves are crescendoing now, almost painful in their intensity. You’re so fucking close, words and reason are beyond you. “S’okay, Jav, I’m close… I just need… need you to…. “

“What do you need, baby? Anything.”

“Just - just be here.”

Javi inhales sharply, then gathers you closer to him. “Yeah,” he murmurs, resting his face in the crook of your neck, peppering you with the softest of kisses. One hand rests firmly on your head, its thumb working little circles on your uninjured temple, the other trailing down your body to splay at the sensitive underside of your belly. “I’m here, baby,” he whispers raggedly into your ear. “I’m here.”

Oh god, oh god. The pressure fucking hurts, burning in your toes, clenching in your core, and just when you think that you’re useless today, that sex is absolute bullshit and you can’t possibly take anymore, that -

“You’re so… my god, baby, you’re fucking perfect.”

It’s not Javi’s tone, broken as is is. It’s the frankness of the confession, the rawness. Javier Peña is not a sweet talker, especially not in bed. He’s not pandering to you. It’s more like the words have been dragged from him at gunpoint, pulled from the very deepest recesses of his subconscious, and it’s that honesty, that awed, reverent authenticity, that drives you over the edge.

It all happens in an instant. The bubble of tension in your core bursts abruptly, and you come with a choked gasp, mind blinking in and out as you ride out wave after wave of sweet relief. Javi is with you the whole time, cradling you in his arms as you shatter.

It’s not the longest orgasm you’ve had, or even the most intense, but there’s something about him holding you, about sharing the same skin and air and listening to him murmur sweetly in your ear, that transcends any release you've ever experienced. You ride the waves of your orgasm, swearing to the heavens that you’re breaking apart, and somehow, you’re taking Javi with you like you never have before, splintering and reconverging in a way that’s intimate and vulnerable and precious beyond words.

You come back to reality, breathless and trembling, and the first thing you notice is Javi staring at you with something like reverence in his expression.

“Hey,” he breathes, running a gentle finger down your cheek.

“Mmm,” you curl into his chest, just breathing him in, all warm, sticky skin and stale cigarette and perfect man.

You stay that way for a long time.

“I missed you,” Javi whispers hoarsely, pressing soft lips against your ear.

“I know,” you choke, because you do. That rush of clarity that had effused you in the front hallway is only more potent now. You and Javi had been dancing around each other for months, each of you too stubborn and too afraid to admit to the other that your feelings ran so much deeper than you let on. It’s so obvious now, how stupid you’d both been, and how much you’d missed by being stupid.

You’re horrified to feel tears tracking down your cheeks. God, reality has caught up with you all at once, exhaustion and fear and horror and relief all snarled up with post-coital vulnerability, and you curl deeper into Javi, tucking your face down in an effort to hide.

He notices, though. He always notices. “Baby?” Javi tilts your face up, tracking over you with concerned, dark eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Exposure turns your tears to choked sobs, and it’s all you can do to speak. “I’m fine,” you gasp, and it’s both the truth and a lie. You’ve never felt safer than you feel now, or more connected to another human than you are to Javier Peña in this moment.

And that’s the thing. There’s still so much left to say. So many emotions, so many worries, so much grief. It all wars for dominance in you, everything at once, and you’re not even sure what the fuck you’re crying about until all of the sudden, you’re choking on words.

“Emilio,” you gasp. “He - he -”

Javi draws a sharp breath of understanding, wrapping strong arms around you as you cry.

“He was… he was gone… and there was nothing I could do!”

“Oh, baby,” Javi murmurs into your ear, rubbing tiny circles into the bare skin of your back. “I know. I know. I’m so, so sorry.”

“And, and…” You’re sobbing so hard that your chest burns, and it’s all you can do to breathe, but the dam has burst, and it’s all coming out now, whether you want it to or not. “Oh, god, Javi, I missed you, too.”

He chuckles a little at that, peppering your forehead with gentle kisses and thumbing the tears from your cheeks.

“Steve was right,” he confesses, tucking your head under his chin. “We’re both idiots.”

This startles a wet giggle from you. You imagine Murphy confronting Javi like he’d confronted you, red-faced and indignant and insisting that you both deserve one another. “Yeah,” you sniffle through your tears. “He was.”

“He’ll be insufferable about it, too.” Javi’s holding your hand now, the pad of his thumb rubbing back and forth, back and forth over your knuckles. You sigh breathily into his chest, crying until your sobs turn to shudders, and then finally, until you’re wrung raw and thoroughly exhausted.

Javi holds you the whole time.

You exhale raggedly, noticing for the first time just how slimy you are. “Ugh, gross,” you mutter, covering your face with your hand as you draw away from Javi, horrified.

Jesus Christ, if you’d just slung snot all over Javier Peña’s bare chest… god, you think you won’t survive the humiliation.

But Javi doesn’t seem bothered. He sits up, glancing around his bedroom for a tissue. Finding nothing, he shrugs out of his shirt, offering it to you silently.

You stare at it, then him.

“What?” he asks, incredulous. He’s still holding out the shirt, eyebrow cocked as if to question why you won’t just take it.

“Nothing,” you say. And that’s a lie. There’s something so uniquely Javi about the gesture, wanting you to wipe your nose with the shirt off his back. But that’s just him - genuine, resourceful, efficient. It’s cute and perfect and ridiculous, and it makes your chest swell and ache.

But you can’t quite put all of that into words right now, and you know he wouldn’t understand even if you tried, so you take the shirt from him with a grateful smile and blow your nose in it like a goddamn heathen.

Javi wads it in a tight ball when you’re finished, chunking it unceremoniously on the floor.

You roll your eyes, and he smirks at you, squeezing your hand as he climbs out of bed. After his cigarettes, you think. “Pretty sure you dropped them on the kitchen floor,” you call after him.

“Yup,” he verifies from the hallway.

You take the opportunity to duck into the bathroom and clean up, and by the time you’re done, Javi’s waiting for you, propped up against the headboard with his eyes shut, smoke curling from his mouth. He pats the bed beside him, not looking up, and you snuggle under his arm, sighing contentedly.

This is new, the cuddling, sharing his bed, burrowing against his side as he smokes, and you savor every detail. His skin is still slick with cooling sweat, and you can hear his heartbeat beneath his ribs where your head rests, slow and steady. Neither of you need to speak, each just drawing comfort from the presence of the other.

Afterglow, you decide, is a very good word for it.

“Javi?” you ask after a long, long time.

“Yeah?” he whispers. You wonder if he thought you were asleep.

“What is this?” You wave your hand, indicating the tiny space between his chest and yours. You know what it looks like, and you know what it is for you, but you can’t stand the thought of leaving anything uncertain between you, not after all of this.

Javi takes a deep drag of his cigarette. He holds that breath for a long time, but the silence doesn’t scare you, not anymore. That’s just Javi’s thinking face, the one you know so well.

After a while, Javi turns to face you fully. “This is me,” he starts slowly, reaching for your hands and lifting them to his chest, “deciding that I’m not going to miss any more opportunities.”

Your breath catches. That sounds - well, coming from Javier Peña, it sounds an awful lot like a vow.

“I’m all in, Ears.” Javi kisses each of your hands in turn. “If that’s okay with you.” He glances up almost hesitantly, the question burning in his eyes.

There’s something about the gravitas of the delivery that hints that his words are more than they seem. Javi’s gaze is pinned to yours, dark and serious, and a shiver runs down your spine. You might be lacking some context, but Javi’s resolve is impossible to miss.

You consider it for only half a second. You’ve known for a long time now that there’s a lot more at stake in Colombia than just your career. Hell, you’d known that from the moment you let Javi walk away from your apartment for the first time. And he’s made his position pretty clear, too. You bite back a loopy grin as you remember him blowing past Martinez at headquarters.

Yeah, there’s no salvaging this secret.

"All in," you say, gripping his hands tightly and wishing you could be half as eloquent and intense and awesome as he is. “I like the way that sounds.”

It’s the honest truth.

Javi breaks out into a soft smile that shows off that single dimple, leaning down and pressing his lips to your forehead. “Looks like we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yeah,” you try to answer, just as you are interrupted by a huge yawn.

Javi snorts. “Go to sleep, Ears,” he says fondly, pointedly throwing back the bed covers. You shoot him a petulant frown, and he rolls his eyes, undeterred. “Seriously, baby. This is just getting stupid now.”

“Whole day is stupid,” you mutter darkly as you climb under the blankets - not because he told you to, but because you want to.

“Oh really?” Javi teases. “The whole day?”

“Well,” you pretend to contemplate. “Guess the sex was alright.” You grin wolfishly at him from beneath the covers.

His response does not disappoint. “Alright?” He presses a hand to his chest, wounded. “Christ, baby, kick a man while he’s down.” He side-eyes you, frowning. “Guess I really do need to up my game, huh?”

“Your words, Jav,” you mumble. The full force of your exhaustion has hit you with a vengeance, and talking is hard.

“I will make it up to you baby,” he growls in your ear, suddenly serious. “You know I will.”

“Mmhmm,” you sigh. Any other time, that voice would have gone straight to your core, but now, not so much. “I do.”

“Good.” He drops a kiss on your nose, then slips out of the bed. The loss of his body heat is enough to draw you out of your stupor, just for a moment.

“Stay?” you call pathetically, just as the lamp flicks off.

Oh.

Javi settles back in beside you, wrapping his arms around your chest and nuzzling into the back of your neck with his nose. “Yeah, babe,” he whispers into your ear as you finally, finally drift off. “Not going anywhere.”

♠

Author notes/ confessions:

Whew, and that’s a wrap. Big, big notes here guys. I am incapable of being brief, apparently.

First, I know a lot of you are chomping at the bits to know who the fuck bombed Ears’ apartment. I tried to place a few little clues here and there, but ROE takes place sometime between 2.06 and 2.07. To summarize, Los Pepes, the vigilante group targeting Escobar, is funded by the Cali cartel. In retaliation, Escobar starts bombing Cali cartel owned business - their drug stores in particular. This really heated up in Bogotá around December 1992, which is when ROE ends.

Now, here’s the fun thing - Javi is absolutely already working with Los Pepes at this point - a relationship he initiated during the month that he and Ears were on the outs. Ears’ intuition in the car is correct - Javi does know, or suspect, more than he’s saying. This is a major plot point for a story that I have in the pipeline, but working that in here - god, guys, that’s too much, and ROE needed to end like 10k words ago, honestly.

That being said, if anybody has interest in being a beta, or just letting me scream ideas at them, hit me up. This little “one shot” has turned into a full blown universe in my brain, and these ideas are dying to get out.

The sex. Yeah, I know the sex isn’t great, but I wanted it that way. It was a strange choice on my part, both for Javi’s character and as a first foray into writing smut, but it just seemed appropriate. Sex is rarely ever as mind-blowing as depicted in fic, and besides, these two have had lots and lots of perfect sex. They’re a pretty equal match in that department, but this time is different. I wanted to put the emotions on display, rather than the physicality. It just makes sense that this time would be rushed, desperate, and messy. They are both emotionally and physically exhausted. Also, I really, really wanted to come full circle from the shower scene, where Ears never gets her completion, and also the scene on the sofa when Ears comforts Javi after a terrible day by saying, “I’m here.” There’s some sort of cathartic and earned about Ears bringing herself to completion while Javi just holds her. That being said, I know I owe Javi, and you guys, some smutty one-shots. I plan to deliver, I promise.

You’ll notice that I mention ears choking, coughing, sputtering, breathing, wheezing, feeling a tightness in the chest, aching… she’s got a small pulmonary contusion from being in such close proximity the blast zone. It’s a common injury in bombing survivors, and hers isn’t massive or life threatening, just inconvenient. Pulmonary contusion symptoms tend to develop hours or days after the injury, so she’ll steadily get worse, and when she does, the whole story of her experience with the explosion WILL come out. She’s still got a lot of trauma to process, both physically and emotionally, but Javi is gonna be there every step of the way (after he flips shit first, that is). I’ll let you guys imagine this one, though, because I have already dragged ROE out far longer than I really should have, and it’s mostly medical bs, anyway.

Last of all, if you’re still here, thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I haven’t written in years, and this story pushed me far outside of my comfort zone. Your support, comments, likes, reblogs, reaction gifs - they all mean the world to me.

@tiffdawg, you are directly responsible for this dumpster fire. I hope you’re proud. :)

Much, much love, and a happy new year to each of you.

~ Jay

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pumpkinpot · 4 years ago

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Can I get an aizawa x reader where he has a thigh kink, like as he goes down on her he wants to basically be crush by them and also thigh fucking😶

OH MY GODS hello! Thank you for being my first request. I can absolutely do that. I have to admit, though I adore Aizawa, I've never wrote for him so.... I'm sorry if its not fantastic the first couple rounds. Also, I did not get a proof reader just wrote it and left.

Jesus this ended up being longer than intended lol. Its also very him oriented. the reader is not played with as much in this one

TW: Sex. sub!Aizawa themes. Thigh asphyxiation kink. (breath play.)

Word out 1.3k

His day was shit. No other way to put it. From children not cooperating to his higher ups demand he "control his students better," he had two goals. Go home and go the fuck to bed. But when he opened the door to his empty apartment the silence threatened to drown him.

You'd expressed many times that your home was open to him and that you'd even like to see him more when you he had time or energy. To solidify this you'd slipped him a key, that had remained untouched on his bedside table ever since.

It wasn't that he didn't want to use it more than anything he craved you but, it was a genuine case of time. you lived across town and it was hard to get away from work when he quite literally lived at his job. Plus, though he wouldn't admit it, he was afraid of boring you. Whenever he did have a second to himself it was often stolen by ungraded papers or a much needed coffee break.

You didn't deserve him to come over and work at your dining room table.

He stays at his place only long enough to swipe the key from the table and grab a snack bag. (a snack offering for you taking in his stray ass.)

You'd gotten the text, "can I come over?" thirty minutes ago and replied a bit too quickly for your liking. "yes, please."

You didn't intend to sound so needy but aside from the morning texts and occasional calls it had become nearly impossible to see each other recently.

A knock came to the front door, followed by a clink of his key in the lock. You tried to act as nonchalant as you could, laying on your sofa, flipping through a random book.

His fingers spread throughout your hair, scratching bit behind your ear. you were nearly positive that his is how he scratches his cats but shit, if this is the treatment they got from him on a regular basic get you some cat ears and a tail.

"Hey baby," you say lacing your fingers through his and planting a kiss on his wrist.

He responds with a kiss of his own, tapping your leg. You open to him as he nestles himself between your thighs.

"Long day?" you ask, pinning a stand of loose hair behind his ear. you practically feel the tension shimmy from his bones as he melts into you.

"Hmhm," is all he says. Your thighs are bare the only part of you covered by a pair of kitten printed panties and one of his tee shirts he'd left for you. "thank you for letting me come over."

It wasn't a favor. You needed this as much as he did, but that was going to stay behind closed lips for now. "Of course my love."

Pulling your right thigh over his shoulder, he closed his eyes, burring himself deeper into your touch.

He taps a finger on the curve of your hips so you lift your butt, his hands sliding across the swell of your ass before you melt back down.

Massaging lightly where your thigh meets the curve of your butt, your hips lazily grind against his chest in a slow row.

The act, though as innocent as it might have began is steadily heats a need in him.

A pang of guilt cools him down like ice. This wasn't why he came here. He didn't come to get off and not see you again for a month, but fuck the way he fit between your legs had his mind wandering to what it might feel like to-

The thought is cut by the long intentional grid you give this time your hand never leaving the base of his hair.

where you-

"what are you reading?" He fishes, looking up at your distracted gaze.

You'd reread the same sentence at least a dozen time trying to distract yourself from a need growing in your belly. He didn't come here to be used as a sex toy. It was the first time he'd used your key and the last thing you wanted was to make him thing that' s all you wanted. Plus, He's probably tired. "Nothing important."

Shota takes the vague answer as a slight invitation to distract you, as much as you'll allow him.

the pads of his fingers dig grooves into your ass as he gives one, two, three kisses to the tops of your thigh, working his way down your hip.

The leg still over his shoulder flexes instinctually and you feel the heat break.

He pulls your other thigh up, wrapping his hand just below your knees. you give a playful squeeze. He squeeze's with you, a silent plea for more pressure. You give a half flex, his breath hitching.

A long sigh follows before his eyes find yours. He passes a glance between you and your discarded book a smile dancing along his lips. "you ready to give me attention?"

You opt out of giving an answer, instead, pulling your heels together behind him and giving another halfhearted grip. He sucks in a breath ready for the asphyxiation, but you release too soon and the air gets caught in his throat.

"oh, you," he bites down on the thick of your thigh, "little tease."

You smile a wicked thing his want to be viced between your legs evident by his needy fingers digging into your skin and heavy breathing, waiting for any moment for you to take the air away from him.

"Feeling needy baby?" you say, brushing hair from his forehead. you hug your thighs together only to readjust your seated position.

He pants again, eyes betrayed by your lack of follow through to end his shit via your thighs.

"I-I," he starts, but you break the sentence with a full engagement of your leg muscles, his mouth falling open into a pleading O.

you release after a few seconds. "Show me." you demand.

He unclenches his left hand, tapping on your thigh. A tell tell sign he needs a release for air.

"You do want more?" you ask.

He nods, leaving kisses down your thighs. "yes."

"yes what?"

"Yes, please."

Shota pulls his knees under his planting on all fours. with your permission he unzips himself starting off slowly against his shaft, with a loose grip.

Due to his hero costume Shota had to get used to slight asphyxiation pretty early on, but he can nearly picture the exact moment he realized he liked it, and believe it or not, It had nothing to do with scarf. It looked a lot like right now actually. He was actively being chocked out be a villain's thighs during a rouge patrol night and though it wasn't the best of circumstances he had been looking for a safe way to experiment with this feeling ever since. That's when he found you.

Propped on either side of his head the gradual intensity of your muscles vising him as him gripping himself harder. He allows his tongue to lull out, saliva dripping down your leg and pooling on your panties.

you feel the shake of his hand pumping faster and faster, his release nearing. As you feel his movements begin to stutter you flex one last time before releasing your hold.

His vision blurs at the corners as the rush of his orgasm tears through him followed by air in his lungs. his fingers tingle the cum seeping from his feeling like a jot of light energy forcing him to slightly buck his hips.

He decorates the back of your legs, coming up onto his knees to pump through the crease in your thighs, riding out the high.

He doesn't mean to hold his breath and doesn't realize he's doing so until you pull him down to you and whisper, "breath," into his ear.

He releases a shaky breath hand massaging the back of your thigh and he kneads the cum over your skin.

"I-," he breaths into your neck. "I want more."

you pull your legs around his hip, pushing his cock to rub against your saliva soaked panties.

"Then take more baby."

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #aizawa smut #mha x reader #aizawa x y/n

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angelkurenai · 4 years ago

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Break those rules - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Break those rules

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Hey! So this is my attempt at making a request: DeanxReader where feelings have not been expressed yet. They're just researching some stuff together. The reader absent mindedly smiles when they're reading something. Deano notices. Then he just kind of jabbers about how adorable the reader's smile is. End with a kiss and finally expressed feelings maybe? I wrote a short little writing prompt kind of like this on my blog. (It's near the bottom if you want a better idea for the request) Thanks! xxx

“I don't get why Sam has to get away with only three hours of research and I am stuck here for the fifth hour. In a row.” Dean said with a rather heavy, and even more dramatic, sigh as he flipped open another book and rested his chin on his palm.

“Stuck here huh? Wow, way to make me, and the company I offer you, feel so flattered, Winchester.” you said as you looked up at him through your lashes. He couldn't see much of your face as you kept focus on the book before you but that didn't mean he couldn't hear the obvious playfulness that laced your voice or nearly feel, let alone imagine, the small smirk that tucked at the corner of your lips.

“You know what I mean.” and still, despite your easiness, he couldn't help but feel a pang in his chest if only for the pout you gave him – playful or not – and he rushed to speak again “To tell you the truth, being in your company does make it ten times better and always worth it, but-” he raised a finger “That's still not enough to make up for...” he looked down at the books, his face a mix between horror, disgust and exhaustion as he said “This. And besides, we're not even making progress as it is. Field work could do much more or say if it was more than just the two of us here, there could be en end to... this.”

“This-” you tried to mimic his tone “Is what we can only do now, I am afraid, no field work left. And to answer your previous question: Sam gets away with three hours because he's already read through his part of books. Meanwhile you are stuck over that book for the past hour. And you're not going anywhere before you read the rest either. Stop stalling.”

“Then stop being so distracting, for a change yeah?” he couldn't help but mumble as he rested his chin on his palm and slid a little bit down his seat.

“How? I didn't even start this in the first place!” you protested, eyes wide.

But certainly not as wide as his when he realized the words had really slipped past his lips “What- n-no, I- I didn't-” he started but actually stopped himself “Well, actually-” he felt bold, maybe even looked like it and hopefully - he prayed to any deity that didn't hold a grudge on him and that was listening - that he looked confident as he imagined in his head; or at least the part of his head where he wasn't freaking out “You heard me. It would be much easier to focus if you weren't so distracting.”

“Do tell? And what is so distracting about what I said? Seeing as you were the one to start this conversation.” you asked with a small smirk, ready to sass him out of anything that he could come up with, just like you'd done so many times before. Or so you expected.

“Nothing.” he shrugged, face mostly neutral save for the casual half smile “It's not what you said. It's not anything you did either. It's just you being you. You're distracting. I just look at you and get carried away in an instant. Sometimes you're so distracting I can't even get my thoughts in an order, let alone focus on research. So, no, really you are the only one to blame here. But ain't that in the best way possible, huh sweetheart?” he asked with his smile turning into a grin.

He was proud at himself for getting it all out without a single stutter and even more praising himself deep down for not showing any of the panic he was feeling, slip through. Because oh there were all kinds of red lights and sirens going off in his head at the moment; he was freaking out not only at this newfound surge of bravery but also at the words that were really coming out of his lips in this very moment. Why now, when after all this time he had held them back along with his infatuation- schoolgirl crush, Sam would say and he would be 100% right about it even if Dean never admitted it out loud. And even more he was proud with himself for - by whatever miracle - how it did sound like he was flirting and not struggling to be a human. So much so that he huffed his chest out a bit, thinking that if today was the day - and it seemed so because of how he really was on a roll - then so be it. He had not had any previous signs to you being interested in him as he was in you, sure, and for that he feared he probably was simply stupid and not brave but there was really no taking it back now and for the first time he didn't feel like it.

“I-” you started, blinking several times as you looked at him carefully an for a couple dreadful moments of silence when he nearly felt like caving in because of his panic, Dean held his breath, and listened as you spoke up again “Are you for real? I- I mean are you- Dean-” you huffed, your eyebrows pulling into a frown and your lips almost forming a pout that was the exact definition of distracting he was referring to “Seriously, this is not funny at all. If you wanna joke around here then-”

“Joke?” he breathed out before you could get to continue with your words, let alone thoughts “Why would I? No, no. I'm being absolutely honest here.” he shrugged so casually he might have patted himself on the shoulder for the achievement if you weren't there, and if he wasn't so distracted once more by seeing the way your eyes widened and you then blinked before looking down shyly.

And he continued “Sweetheart, I don't get to tell you often and shame on me for that but with Sammy all the time in the way I can't express myself so I'm just gonna go ahead and say it: You're so beautiful that everything you do is distracting to me, even just being in my presence. Sometimes you struggle with that, I get it, given the job we do. But don't let anyone tell you different, because all of it only makes you even more special. Thought-” he shrugged with an easy smile, looking back at his book as if it was nothing, as if he wasn't in a struggle with his very own self to just look at you at all time just to not miss a single reaction “You should probably know that. Not that you're not already aware but I suppose... since we're making small talk. And just so that I let you know, that there is nobody else I'd rather be stuck doing research with.”

Your lips fell apart and the soft sound of “Oh. Oh I- oh.” escaped past them before silence set in the room, one that he enjoyed a little too much as he looked up at you through his lashes only to see you shift and play nervously with your clothes or the pages of your book. You kept opening and closing your mouth before you ended up clearing your throat and straightened your back to look straight at him.

He did the same, meeting your eyes with the most straight face he could master “Yes? Something the matter?”

“No, I- I just- Well-” you cleared your throat again, shifting in your seat “Thank you for- for...”

“For?” he inquired and you shot him a half-hearted glare that melted so soon into the sweetest look he ad ever seen on your face.

“That. What you said. You know what you just said. I don't have to repeat it.” you said so fast, a small huff leaving your lips “A-and I appreciate it. So thank you for it.” your eyes fluttered down to your hands before you shifted in your place “But still-” you gave him a stern look as if to brush the whole topic off; it was the easiest thing when you didn't know how to respond and your whole face felt as if it was on fire “That ain't gonna cut down any research for you. You've gotta get through those books and you won't leave this place until you're done.”

“I wasn't looking for any special treatment.” he shrugged all innocent.

“Good.” you said stubbornly “Bause you ain't getting it. So quit the sweet-talking me and get back to work.”

“Fine, fine!” he raised his arms in surrender, looking down at the book but not stopping the mumbling, loud enough for you to hear “Since when did speaking the truth turn into sweet-talking, I had no idea.”

“Quit it, Winchester. Or else I'll throw this book at you and it will definitely not be a happy ending for you.” you tried to say seriously, putting on a stern face but only for the sake of seeming determined and unaffected; despite what your eyes told him at that moment.

“Fine, fine.” he sighed dramatically “Not that I'm stalling but you just should wear those jeans more oft-” he paused when you narrowed your eyes at him and he rolled his “Alright. They look great on you but I get it. No telling the truth today. Back to work.”

“You're unbelievable sometimes.” this time you scoffed a laugh, shaking your head and he didn't fight his own grin especially as you muttered “Idiot.” at him.

He hummed, this time not looking up at you as he whispered “I am.” and let the comfortable silence fill the room, calming the both of you as you went back to work. Dean even more so than you because - as far as he was concerned - he needed it more than anything.

Surprised and proud as he was at himself for getting all of that out, he still was a mess of emotions all of which refused to die down, and could feel his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse so intense that he felt it to the end of his very own fingertips. And better not get started with the way he could feel a familiar heat spread all the way up his neck, to the tips of his ears and dangerously close to the rest of his face, making him wish that it was at least not obvious to anyone that would look, which really only meant you.

With his head still very much in the clouds, feeling high and dizzy on emotions if not somewhat filled with the aftermath of adrenaline from what could only be an almost-confession, he found himself only skipping through the words, barely paying any attention to them. His fingers played with the pages as he basked in the warmth and comfortable feeling of this newfound silence. It was like coming home after a long time and soaking in the comfortable and familiar warmth of one's bed.

As the words before his eyes blurred for what seemed like, at least, the tenth time in only a couple minutes, he decided that that was it. His mind was running with so many thoughts that he couldn't help it; he wanted to steal another look at you after this endless and at the same time too short silence. Chewing on his lower lip he slowly tore his eyes away from the text and took a good look at you, shameless about it as he should be, as he had every right to be and he wouldn't let anybody tell him otherwise. He was in love, goodness how crazy it was to even think about it, and by the looks of it – by some crazy chance even better – it seemed like there was hope for him that you might feel something for him too.

So why even try to hold back from taking it all in?

The grin on his face only got wider, much as he tried to hold it back, when he saw you pause. Your eyes clearly moved away from the page, deep in thought and with your chin resting on top of your palm. You could very easily hide it if you wanted to, but that didn't seem the case and so Dean could see fully the beautiful smile that graced your lips. Whether it was at something you had just read or because of something he'd previously said he didn't know and frankly it didn't matter. Because the moment he saw that smile his entire mind went blank, there was nothing that it could come up with... unlike his mouth, that is, which had plenty to say apparently.

Gosh how can that smile not turn even the worst tortures to the sweetest thing in the world? It's just so damn beautiful, that I know there's not a single thing I wouldn't do for it. Hell, the moment I saw it for the first time I knew I was a gonner, fell stupidly head over heels for you as anybody else would and the more I got to know you, the more I got to see that smile the more clear it was to me that those feelings were there to stay. And so they have. I knew I would do anything in my power to see it again but to go to such extents? “Hell, sweetheart, I'd climb over freakin' mountains just for that smile and I ain't just getting poetic, you know I never could. There are always different kinds to it that I don't know how you do it but this- this right here is my favorite. It's so free and so true and so damn adorable and you almost try to hide it sometimes and shit that makes me angry at who could have ever made you believe it is not gorgeous enough to show but also so damn stubborn too, to take it upon myself to make you smile like that every freakin' day of your life. I won't get shit done, I know, because it's just so distracting but heavens-” he breathed out, not clear where the air even came from after all the rambling “That smile is worth all of the stars, sweetheart.”

A heavy albeit not uncomfortable, by any means, silence hangs in the room once more after Dean's done with his rambling. He didn't even realize it as the word poured out of his lips, heavens out of his very own heart and soul is better, right there for you to hear, just as he didn't realize the second you stopped looking at the book. Your eyes were currently on him, wide and beautiful as always, blinking in surprise even after you thought that there was nothing that Dean could do that could surprise you more today.

But as the realization downed on Dean, it didn't leave a pleasant shock but rather a chilling one; the same one would get after an ice bucket being dumped on them. Not that he was willing to let you know that, so instead he gave you an awkward smile and asked “...Did I just say that out loud?”

He did, after all, hope that by some high power you hadn't heard a thing and that it was all still words in his head and not a confession – although very much needed – probably poorly-timed.

“I-” your lips parted as you blinked several times in disbelief “Y-yes-” your voice cracked a little “Yes you actually did.”

“O-oh o-ok c-cool.” but not as much as his did, before he cleared his throat “Cool. That's uh terrific... Embarrass myself more than I have in my entire life in the span of half an hour. Way to go Dean.” he mumbled the last part to himself as he looked away from you and down at his book with wide eyes.

“I mean I-” you chewed on your lower lip before you straightened your back a bit more and look at him with a bit more confidence “I would have interrupted you but for one I wanted to hear all of it, seeing how adorable you were being it was a sight for sore eyes, and for another there is a date rule I must keep up with so-” you shrugged but it was anything but innocent with the smile you were sporting.

Not that any of it mattered, because one thing registered above all “Dating? What dating? And what kind of rules?”

“Sadly we don't have a dictionary here but I'm sure you can guess, pretty boy. And as for rules well it goes like: kiss on the first date, everything else after the third date.” you rested your chin on your palm again and looked him in the eyes “Wouldn't wanna break that one, no matter how tempted I was to shut you up with a kiss, you bloody idiot.”

“...You're kidding me right now, right?” his eyes were wide and he only managed to get the words out after a good few seconds of silence. Minutes probably.

“Alright, yes, maybe we do need that dictionary. Listen, I'm gonna put it as simple as possible and pray that that wonderfully smart yet so very stupid brain of yours gets it: You take me out on a date and you can get to be as distracted as you wanted by my smile. Stare at it, kiss it away only to kiss it back up on my lips. Anything you want. Because I've been waiting for too freaking long for you to say these things and I'm done beating around the bush. I am coming clean. I have feelings for you too, Dean.”

Again silence before “...As in for real?”

“Couldn't get any more real. Always had them.” you smiled, this time actually shyly at him.

Pause, a long pause actually, and he blinked rapidly before asking “This is really not you trying to, I don't know, let me down easily or something?”

“Absolutely not, why would I? I meant everything I say.”

“So that means-” he actually held his breath, feeling his head beat so hard it would almost break out of his chest “Are we... you know?”

Your smile turned into a more teasing one, almost a smirk as you shrugged “Only after the first date.”

“So if I did happen to ask you out now, you would...?” he had to be sure this wasn't some kind of dream.

“Say it would be my pleasure.” you nodded your head.

“And- one more question, just-” he raised a finger, taking a calming breath in even if it was a bit shaky “...So long as there's say beer and maybe burgers that's...?”

“The perfect kind of date for me, you know i-”

“Awesome!” his eyes widened and he jumped up from his seat with a grin on his face.

“But not while doing research!” you said fast enough before he could get much further away “No beer and burgers while researching is not a date.”

“Not even a little?” he asked and you shook your head “...Then can research itself maybe be?”

“Absolutely not.” you said despite the pout he was giving you. It did make things harder.

“...But what if I maybe, really wanna get a kiss right now? What do I have to do to get that kiss?”

“Guess what?” you grinned and you could see the hope in his eyes before you made it vanish into thin air “Research!”

“More books, yay!” he said with a huff, his arms falling by his side as he made his way back to his seat “Of course it's books.” he groaned and you couldn't help your grin “But really... nothing else? I know your smile makes it all worth it but honey... this is the worst kind of torture!”

“Alright you big child come here. Can't believe you're making me break my rules.” you sighed with a shake of your head “Just one, for getting this far with research, as a reward.”

“Oh you know I love rewards.” he grinned “How about one about every book I read? And if it ends up otherwise, oh well, Sammy can handle the case alone right?”

“Don't push your luck, Winchester.”

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot

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starshine583 · 4 years ago

Text

New Girl on the Block (13)

(Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!!! I’d say that this is a gift for the day, but this is my usual update time lol please enjoy the new chapter anyway! There’s also a mini series connected to this called Journal Entries :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.12 / Ch.14 (ao3)

Chapter 13: I’ll Make You a Deal

Lila stalked the halls of Dupont, doing her best to hide her scowl as she massaged her temples. When she offered to take Marinette’s job as Class President, she hadn’t realized how much extra work she was dumping onto herself. She thought that the title was just that: a title. Nothing more. Nothing less. Sure, she would have to verify a few things, acknowledge her classmates’ opinions towards the school system, and speak out about it as a representative towards them, but that was all. She didn’t expect it to rearrange her entire schedule towards life! Her head was pounding from the late nights of filing student complaints, her back ached from carrying this stupid binder around, and her wrist still twinged with pain from signing too many papers at once. It was ridiculous!

Lying to Bustier about those forms didn’t make it any easier either. Instead of getting to make minor additions to the papers Marinette had already written, she now had to rewrite all of the forms herself. The entire process was a nightmare, and Lila couldn’t escape. If she lied again and said that Marinette gave the forms back, that would be glorifying the girl, and she refused to do that. However, if she lied and said that she simply found the forms again, it would not only make her look suspicious, but also incompetent. She couldn’t have either of those descriptions attached to her person.

So, that left her with the agonizing option of filling them out again herself. She tried to push it onto Alya, and for the most part, she succeeded. The red-head filled out a good half before handing them back, but that still left Lila with the other half. Thus, she’s spent the last three nights in a row doing nothing but signing form after form after form. The fact that she had to use Marinette’s forms as reference only made it worse. She could practically hear the ravenette laughing at her every time she glanced over the original paperwork. It was utterly humiliating.

And don’t get her started on the amount of requests or complaints that she had to file. Everyday her classmates came to her asking for this or that or “could you change this about our classroom?”. Sometimes they would talk about the seats being too hard or the fact that they didn’t have enough recess or how the stairs were too far apart and someone could trip. Then- oh, then -there were the class trips. One request was a literal trip to Greece. Greece! Did they think she or the school was just made of money? How can they possibly be this greedy or entitled? How was Marinette able to handle it all so easily? She made it look like it was nothing!

Lila clenched her fists at her side, her nails digging into her skin. Even after running from the school with her tail between her legs, Marinette was still acting as a sharp, irritating thorn in Lila’s side.

Sparkling laughter interrupted her thoughts, and Lila turned to the two boys standing outside of the library entrance. Adrien Agreste, the golden child of the school, and Nino, his little sidekick- as far as Lila was concerned -appeared to be chatting mindlessly on their way back to class, which was typical. Adrien was always talking with somebody now-a-days. That was another problem of hers.

When Marinette first left, Adrien became distraught and distant. He began muttering to himself and not listening in class, dismissing everyone with a hum and a nod. The other students berated him for the behavior, wonderfully captured in Lila’s beautifully crafted web of words, but he hardly heard them. Or if he did, he didn’t care. He continued to write things in his notebook that certainly weren’t lesson notes and run his hand through his hair with frustration when he hit some sort of wall.

It was irritating, of course, but nothing Lila hadn’t expected. Marinette was supposed to be his “very good friend”, after all. She would have been surprised if he hadn’t mourned the loss. What she didn’t anticipate, though, was the way he bounced back.

It had to have happened a little over two weeks after Marinette left, because Lila remembered finally starting to feel comfortable in her new role of being able to lie unchallenged. She was spewing some crap about Marinette sending her mean messages, making sure her tears looked real enough and her sobs were believable, when Adrien decided to jump into the conversation. He flashed her a bright smile and, in the kindest voice she’d ever heard, asked her for the texts that Marinette had sent.

The question alone had surprised her, considering the fact that he hadn’t really spoken to anyone in a while, but that smile he held was really the thing to set her on edge. It was simply too sweet-looking for someone who had just indirectly asked for proof of her story, especially when they both knew that she was lying.

She couldn’t understand the change. He’d been cowering in the corner for the last two weeks, and yet that day, he was out for blood on her account. Why? What was the difference between the last two weeks and that day? She still doesn’t know.

Adrien’s determination towards outing her cranked up to eleven after that . He went from barely talking to one person throughout the day to talking with everyone on a constant basis, and anytime Lila so much as uttered a sentence, he was there asking questions. When did she do this, who helped her with that, how did she manage to get from one place to the other so quickly- from a naïve onlooker’s point of view, Adrien would simply appear to be interested in Lila’s stories, but she knew better. He was finding holes in her stories and using them to rip apart her words piece by piece, all while using an innocent yet confused expression to make it seem like he was trying to help her. The strategy was completely different from Marinette’s, and it ticked Lila off to no end. How was she supposed to turn crowds against him and regain her throne if he kept acting like some pure-hearted angel?

She couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t, and he knew that she couldn’t, because that’s the exact same tactic that eventually got Marinette to leave the school.

A part of her had hoped that this newfound passive-aggression would fade after a few days, but now that three weeks of constant badgering on Adrien’s account has passed, that hope has been thoroughly and relentlessly crushed. He hasn’t done much over those weeks, thankfully, but she’s had to reinforce her lies ten times the normal amount to keep it that way. That’s a tad hard to do when all of your stories are on the grand scale of things.

Even with her meticulous planning and words choices, though, one can’t escape subtle confrontation forever. She could tell that people were slowly starting to become suspicious of her stories. They were either wanting Adrien to be around during their discussions with her or were looking for holes themselves.

Watching them exchange glances during her stories made her blood boil. Why did they have to be so nosy? So picky? Can’t she have a reprieve for once in her entire life? Can’t she just lie and manipulate others without the fear of getting caught? Why did that feel like such a big request from the universe?

Adrien and Nino waved to each other, and Lila perked up. It looked like they were separating. Were they separating? Oh, please be separating. That would be the most convenient thing to happen to her all month.

Adrien split off from Nino, to her delight, and Lila beelined after the blond. His meddling had gone on long enough, and she thought it was high time someone put an end to it. That someone being her.

“Adrien!” Lila cooed, looping her arm with his and flashing a bright smile. “It’s been forever since we’ve talked just one on one, don’t you think?”

Adrien’s steps faltered, and for the briefest of moments, she saw his eyes darken. Nobody else would have noticed, especially not with the friendly smile he gave her right after, but Lila caught it. She was the only one who realized how truly despicable the model could be.

“Oh, hey Lila.” He replied with an easy, clearly fake smile. “I guess we haven’t talked alone in a while. You normally like to be at the center of the crowd.”

Lila tried not to grit her teeth and instead elected to flip her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t say the center. I’m just being myself, and the others seem to follow.”

Adrien hummed. “Yes, I’m sure you're a wonderful role model for all of us. It isn’t everyday we get the courtesy of having an honest and kind friend like you.”

His sarcasm was palpable, but his shining smile remained. A part of her wondered why he even bothered acting at this point. They both knew they were at war now. Niceties were only necessary when someone was clueless towards hidden motives. Adrien wasn’t, and neither was she, yet here they were. Smiling and trading snide remarks in the privacy of the empty locker room.

Lila put on a bashful expression. “Oh, please-”

“Of course,” Adrien interrupted her, “there was also Marinette. She was always ready to help someone. It’s a shame she had to transfer schools.”

Lila bit the inside of her cheek to avoid sneering. There he goes again, mentioning that ridiculous baker girl. It’s so infuriating.

“Even though she was a bully? I’m sorry, Adrien, but I don’t think you should forgive someone so easily. They’ll walk all over you if you give them too much leeway.”

Adrien slipped- or rather jerked -his arm out of Lila’s grasp as he exchanged some of his books. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

Ah, there it is. That might have been the first genuine comment he’s made during this discussion.

“What was that?” She asked with feigned politeness.

Adrien straightened and gave her another innocent smile. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if this could all be a big misunderstanding? The phone number that was terrorizing you wasn’t Marinette’s, after all. If you were.. mistaken.. on that story, perhaps you missed something in your other stories. Don’t you think so?”

Lila forced a smile so wide that her cheeks started to hurt. Was this his way of giving her an out? A last chance of mercy? Because if it was, she refused to take it. She’s built this kingdom with nothing but her bare hands, and she’d be darned if she decided to lie down and let him take it away just as quickly.

“I can’t say I do.”

Adrien closed his locker, a certain glint coming to his eyes when he looked at her. “Well.. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what I find. Won’t we?”

Rage crackled through Lila’s bones as Adrien walked past her, but she caught herself before doing anything rash. If she was going to counter Adrien’s sudden attacks, she needed to make a deal with him and get him off of her back just long enough to plan. And to do that, she needed to promise him what he apparently wanted most.

“What if it wasn’t her?”

Adrien stopped in the doorway, and Lila held her breath.

“..Because it wasn’t her,” he corrected, “I’ll be hoping that she comes back.”

Lila drew in a deep breath, if only to avoid screaming. Marinette, Marinette, Marinette- Why did he have to have to be so infatuated with Marinette? What could she possibly have that made Adrien want to fight against the whole school to get her back?

“Alright..” She said, completely calm. “Say you were right. If it happened to turn out that Marinette wasn’t the one responsible and I convince her to come back, will we all be able to get along?”

Bile rose to her mouth as she spoke. The very thought of running back to Marinette and asking her to come back to Dupont made Lila’s stomach churn, but this was fine. She was only promising to bring Marinette back. Promises can easily be broken.

Adrien smiled, but not like the fake, warm smiles he’d been giving her throughout their conversation. No, this one was sharp, predatory, as though he could see right through her words.

“See you in class, Lila.”

The “golden child” left the locker room then, and Lila finally gave in to her frustration and let out a growl. This was supposed to be her victory, her turf, and yet she can’t even enjoy it anymore because Adrien freaking Agreste decided to meddle in business that wasn’t his. He knew that the only reason she was willing to compromise was because he was getting to her, and that burned her up inside.

She drew in another deep breath and smoothed out her miniature ponytails. This was fine. Everything was fine. Adrien might be deciding to join the squabble a tad later than usual, but Lila invented this game. If he wanted to try his hand at her tactics and strategies, fine. He would soon realize why she was able to climb to the top in the first place.

~~~~~~~

Marinette stared out the car window with awe as they drove up the street towards Allegra’s estate. In the week that led to the group sleepover, Marinette had racked her brain day and night trying to decide what the mansion would be like. How tall would it be? How wide? Would it take up an entire street or a small square of Paris like Gabriel’s? Would there be butlers running around like in the movies or would there be a simple maid or two to keep things moving? Perhaps there wouldn’t be any hired hand at all? The excitement and anticipation made her buzz and bounce through the last few school days at Rosemary, but she refused to ask any questions during the wait for winter break. Marinette wanted the mansion to be a complete surprise. And now that she was finally here, sitting in the backseat of Allegra’s miniature limo and practically pressing her face against the window, she couldn’t be happier with that decision.

Mansions of all kinds lined the sidewalks, bigger and more elegant than she could have ever imagined. Some had marvelous fountains, while others had incredible gardens. Some had amazing walls with ingrained art that lined the premises, and one mansion even had horses grazing on their front lawn! It made her wonder why Gabriel would build his mansion in the middle of the city, or if any of these mansions might belong to Claude, Allan, or Felix.

Near the end of the street rested a long brick wall that had elaborate, white statues decorating the major corners. Marinette guessed immediately that that was Allegra’s mansion, because the wall wrapped around an enormous white house that had silver railings for the balconies and blue-ish grey tiles for the rooftops, quite contrary to the golds and dark browns that came with the other mansions. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and that seemed like something Allegra would enjoy, even if the house belonged directly to her parents.

Sure enough, the car rolled to a stop in front of the black metal gate that the brick walls led to, and the driver told Marinette to stay put as he hopped out of the vehicle. She watched quietly as he unlocked the gate by hand using a personal key and quickly found herself wiggling in her seat when he started pushing the gates open. They were so close! Allegra’s mansion was right there! If they didn’t start moving again in two seconds, Marinette might just jump out and start running.

The driver got back into the car with a small apology for the inconvenience- to which she assured him that it was fine through barely contained squeals -and they continued through the gate at a leisure pace, which killed Marinette inside. She wanted to get into the mansion now!

In an effort to remain still, her eyes flicked around the front lawn of the estate. The driveway they had pulled into appeared to be a full circle, looping around an intricate water fountain that spouted bursts of water in such a way that made the water look as though it were dancing. Diamonds of dark green grass cut through the concrete in the driveway, leading to the rest of the vibrant grass on the lawn, and a delightful mix of bushes and flowers lined the inside of the brick wall as well the outside of the mansion. It struck Marinette as quaint and refined at the same time, and her respects went out to the person- or persons -responsible for designing and maintaining the look.

Finally, the limo parked in front of these wide, marble steps that led to the front door, and the driver barely had time to open Marinette’s back door before she leapt out with her bags in her arms. If the outside was this luxurious, she couldn’t wait to see how breathtaking the inside would be.

“Thanks for the ride, sir!” She called over her shoulder as she hopped up the steps two-by-two.

“Oh, miss-!” The man yelled after her. “May I take your bags?”

Marinette skidded to a halt and turned around, ready to politely decline his offer, when another voice spoke up behind her.

“No need, Louis! I’ve got them.”

Marinette whirled back around, coming face to face with Allegra, who was now standing in the doorway with a bright smile.

The blonde reached forward to take the bags with one hand, while giving Marinette a side hug with the other. “I’m so happy you’re here! This is going to be great.”

“I know! I’ve been waiting for this all week! Your house looks amazing.”

A grin spread across Allegra’s lips, and she pulled back from the hug in favor of grabbing Marinette’s hand. “If you like it now, just wait till you see the inside.”

The two girls waltzed inside together, but as soon as she entered, Marinette couldn’t help gasping and breaking away from Allegra to run further into the house. Tiled, marble floors stretched out before her, seemingly farther than the street she had just driven down, and on the other side of the bigger-than-life foyer was a set of large, open windows that touched from the floor of the first level to the ceiling of the second level. They overlooked the backyard, which was equally as enchanting as the front yard, and a part of her had the urge to sit down and stare at them wistfully for a good hour or two.

To her left and right were a pair of long, curved stairs that led to the second floor. They matched the marble tiles on the first floor and had beautiful, metal railings that curled and twisted into different types of flowers and leaves. The railing also trailed off to the open hallways above, where Marinette could see different types of doors lined up. Her restless brain wanted to skip up the stairs, brush her hand across the smooth, black railing, and explore each and every room possible.

Her gaze dragged up to the ceiling, and her jaw fell slack yet again as she realized exactly how high the building was. The circular sunroof that signified the center of the ceiling felt higher than the Eiffel Tower itself, and Marinette was certain that if she called out, it would take at least five seconds to hear her voice echoing back to her.

“Well?” Allegra asked next to her. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Marinette blanched. “Allegra, this is incredible! Do you really live here?”

A musical laugh came from the blonde, and she nodded. “Yep. Ever since I was five. Come on, I’ll give you a tour!”

They made their way to the stairs, and Marinette eagerly ran her hand across the cool railings as she continued to look around. She couldn’t believe how astonishing everything looked. It was as though they’d taken the finest jewels and rocks on earth and merged them together to create this mansion. How did they even afford all of this?

“What did you say your mom did again?”

Allegra glanced over at her. “My mom? She’s a-”

“Hey!”

The two girls paused mid step and looked up at the open hallway. Claude stood just above them, leaning over the railing and waving with a wide grin. Allan stood behind him, also offering the girls a friendly smile as a greeting.

“Is that Marinette?” Claude called.

“Yep! She just got here.”

“Sweet!” The brunette cheered. He dashed from his place upstairs and, once he got a good enough momentum, jumped to a stop, using his socks to slide the rest of the way to the stairwell. “We’ve been waiting forever for you to show up!”

Marinette giggled and ran up the rest of the stairway to give Claude a hug. “I got my clothes together as fast as I could.”

“Oh, you’re good.” Allan assured as he came to join them. “You’re technically early anyway.”

“I thought I was.” Marinette remarked, pulling away from Claude to give Allan a small hug as well. “Is Felix here too?”

“Nope, it’s just us right now.” Claude answered with a smile. “We already had clothes here from previous sleepovers.”

“They practically have their own personal closets at this point.” Allegra snorted. Then, she gave Marinette a playful nudge. “And soon, so will you.”

Marinette smiled. She wasn’t sure that she even had enough clothes to fill another closet, but it didn’t stop her from feeling giddy towards receiving one. Having a personal closet at Allegra’s meant she would be coming over much more often, and that was something she desperately wanted to do at this point.

“Have you shown her around yet?” Claude asked.

“Nope. I was gonna show her my room first, though, so I can put her bags down in there.”

“Oh, good idea.” The brunette remarked, taking the opportunity to snag Marinette’s bags from Allegra’s hands. “Let’s go! You’re gonna love it, Mari.”

With everyone together- save for Felix -the group eagerly clambered down the hallway that Claude and Allan had previously been in. The black railway from the staircase continued to twist down the hall next to Marinette, and when it finally stopped at a wall, Claude stopped at a doorway to his right. Glittering stickers arched across the door, spelling out the word “Allegra”.

“Those are from when I was, like, nine.” Allegra commented, a hint of a blush on her cheeks as she opened her bedroom door.

Marinette was about to say that it was fine- she actually found the lettering to be endearing -but any form of words or replies were lost on her when she saw the bedroom for the first time.

Everything was covered in light purples and white, with occasional bits of gold and light blue to accent the room. An enormous, deep purple bed with swirling, golden patterns sat in the center, holding pillows that were bigger than Marinette’s bed alone and a comfort that looked fluffier than her warmest ear-muffs. A pair of blue, see-through curtains wrapped around the bed as well, reminding her of something a princess might own.

Across the room- which was twice the size of her little attic bedroom -were two white shelves that stretched from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. They held various things such as books, notebooks, miniature glass statues, and plenty of other trinkets that struck Marinette as charming. She wondered how long it must have taken Allegra to collect such things, or if she bought them all in one go as she decorated her room. There were even a few crystal wind-chimes hanging around the room.

“This is..” Marinette wasn’t sure what it was as she walked inside, star-struck. The girl even had her own chandelier, for Pete’s sake! Then there was the massive vanity with a million different types of eyeshadow- all aligned perfectly in an orderly fashion -and the massive desk on the other side of the room that had a fancy paperweight and a nice, little trinket to hold all of Allegra’s pencils and such for school. Don’t get her started on the chair hanging from the ceiling that looked equally fancy and comfortable.

“Do I really get to sleep in here?” She eventually asked instead. Words couldn’t describe her thoughts on the room or how it looked like something out of a daydream.

Allegra laughed. “Yep! We’re actually going to be spending most of the night here.”

“After we go swimming, of course.” Claude added as he set Marinette’s bags down in the walk-in closet.

Marinette’s eyes widened at the remark. She’d almost forgotten why she came here in the first place. “Where is the swimming pool?”

“It’s downstairs.” Allegra answered. “I can’t wait for you to see it. We have a water slide and everything.”

Marinette would have gasped, but after what she’s seen so far, she wouldn’t be surprised if they had their own personal zoo. “Can we go see it?”

“Absolutely!” The blonde smiled, looping her arm with Marinette’s. “But first, we need to finish our tour.”

The group made their way out of Allegra’s room and started exploring each door they passed. Claude, Allan, and Allegra took turns explaining each room’s purpose to Marinette, and she absorbed their words as best she could. Most of the time, though, she was lost in her thoughts, completely awed by the structure of the household.

Each room appeared to be bigger than the last, and some of them had Marinette nearly falling over from the amount of money that had to have gone into the décor. There were offices and dining halls and bigger bedrooms for Allegra’s parents. Then there were game rooms with pool tables and living rooms with couches that stretched around the entire room so everyone could see each other. Vases and sculptures lined the hallways and hid in the corners while extensive family portraits littered walls and held personal places on overly huge fireplaces.

In a word, the entire mansion was extravagant, especially for a three-person family, but despite the overwhelming amount of space, Marinette could feel the warmth and familial love of each room. A multitude of memories resided in the walls, and she couldn’t wait to hear all of them.

One room in particular caught her attention the most.

“What is this place?” Marinette asked as she walked into another wide-spread room. Musical instruments of all kinds littered the area- harps, violins, cellos, pianos, guitars, mandolins, and other things she couldn’t even name. They all appeared to be in mint condition, so clean that she could see her reflection in them, and the little kid in Marinette wanted to run around and try each one of them.

“This,” Allegra said next to her, “is our music room.”

“Music room..” Marinette whispered as her hand ran over a pair of literal bongos. “Can you actually play all of these?”

Claude snorted behind them. “She definitely wishes she could.”

Allegra scoffed and smacked his arm with a playful glare.

“No, I can’t play all of them.. But I’m working on it.”

“Wow.” Marinette muttered. That had to be time consuming. Where did she find the drive to keep practicing all of these?

“..Can I touch them?”

“Oh, yeah! Touch them all. Go crazy. I can even teach you how to play a little tune for some of them if you want.”

Marinette lit up. “Can you really?”

Allegra chuckled. “Of course. We have all night, don’t we?”

Marinette had to bite her tongue to avoid squealing again, and she promptly darted off to try everything she could. Any strings and keys would be briefly plucked and pressed before being cast away for the next instrument. She would thump on the drums and blow on the tubas and, occasionally, she would stop to try a few simple tunes on an instrument that sounded especially enchanting to her.

After about thirty minutes of this heaven- there were a lot of instruments -someone knocked on the doorframe at the front of the room, gathering the group’s attention.

A man with light brown hair stood in the doorway, offering an easy, yet apologetic smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Allegra, who had been teaching Marinette how to play the Panda Drum, hopped up from her position on the floor to greet him with a hug. “Not at all! I was just showing Marinette around the house. Mari, this is my dad, Arthur. Dad, this is Marinette, my friend from school that I’ve been telling you about.”

Marinette set the drum aside and stood up as well. “It’s nice to meet you, M. Chanson.”

“Oh, please.” M. Chanson held up a dismissive hand. “Just call me Arthur. Or even Uncle Arthur, if you like.”

A soft smile spread across Marinette’s lips, and she nodded. He sounded exactly like Maman when someone new came to their house.

“Anyway, I just came by to drop off the last bit of your group. He found me in the kitchen while looking for you.” Arthur said. He then stepped to the side to reveal none other than Felix, who had apparently been standing behind him the whole time.

Marinette perked up at the sight of the blond. “Oh, Felix! You’re here!”

“Here late.” Claude added with a smirk.

Felix shot him a look. “I’m not late. I told you all that I wouldn’t quite be here at the same time as everyone else.”

“Telling us that you’re going to be late doesn’t mean that you weren’t late.” Allegra pointed out. “It just means that you were considerate about your tardiness.”

Felix narrowed his eyes at her, knowing she was correct, and Marinette pursed her lips to avoid laughing, because she also knew that Allegra was correct.

“So I see you’ve been showing her my instruments?” Arthur cut in, redirecting the conversation.

Marinette’s eyes widened. “These are your instruments?”

Arthur chuckled. “Yep. In fact, I taught Allegra everything she knows.”

“You mean you can actually play all of them?”

“Well, some better than others,” The man responded with a half shrug, “but yeah. I’m honestly a little disappointed that A didn’t come get me when she showed you the room.”

Allegra winced. “Oh, sorry, Dad. I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“That’s amazing..” Marinette remarked, dumbfounded. She couldn’t imagine having enough memory to know how each individual instrument was played.

Arthur tilted his head back and forth with a hum. “I wouldn’t say amazing. A lot of these instruments are extremely similar to how they’re played, and at some point, once you’ve learned enough, you start to realize that a lot of music has a certain order to it. When you know that order, it makes playing a lot easier.”

“Oh, don’t be modest.” Allegra scolded. “Who else can play almost all of the instruments of the world and memorize any new instruments within a week?”

Before Arthur could respond, Allegra turned to Marinette with a proud smile and continued.

“Dad’s able to combine these instruments like no one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot. It’s like he’s memorized every string, key, or chord possible! He’s even written songs for us too. Some of them are just funny little melodies to go with Claude’s acts, but others are full songs that he performs for me and Mom. Sometimes, when Mom’s stressed, he’ll sing or play for her to help her relax. I personally think that the songs he writes then are the best ones.”

The more she talked, the more bashful Arthur became, and Marinette couldn’t help cooing at the man. The thought of someone writing songs for the person they loved and singing them when that person felt down brought a wonderful warmth to her chest. It actually reminded her of another sweet boy she knew, one with blue-tipped hair and a smile that could melt the arctic.

“I have a friend like that.” She decided to say. Why not tell the others about him too? “He has a passion for the guitar and plays songs for me when I feel down too. It’s so calming.”

Something in her tone or expression must have caught their interest, because the group’s attention shifted from Allegra to Marinette in an instant. Before she could ask about the sudden change, Claude slipped an arm around her shoulders, flashing her a sly grin.

“Oh? A friend, you say?” He drawled. “You sound pretty fond of him. What’s his name?”

An involuntary blush crept across Marinette’s cheeks, more so at the implication in Claude’s voice than anything else. After two years of hanging around Alya, with her raised eyebrows and coy smiles, she could tell when someone was trying to accuse her of certain feelings towards another.

“O-Oh. uhm.. His name is Luka.”

“Luka..” Allegra hummed. “I’ve never heard you mention his name before.”

“And I’ve never seen her blush like that before, either.” Claude teased. “You’re not being very subtle, Nette.”

Marinette felt her blush deepen, even though they both knew she was easily flustered. She’s probably blushed a million times in the month that she’s known them, and most of those blushes were definitely darker than the one she was wearing even now.

Her gaze flicked to Felix, curious as to what he thought on the matter. His expression remained neutral, though she spotted a bit of intrigue in his eyes. It didn’t help with her guilt towards the comments.

Then again, why should she feel guilty? Even if she did like Luka, that wouldn’t affect anyone here. There was no reason to be ashamed.

Nevertheless, she still wanted to slip her way out of getting teased, so she jokingly rolled her eyes and said, “You guys said we were going to go swimming, right? Felix is here, and it’s getting dark so we should probably change before it gets too late.”

“The pool is indoors.” Claude helpfully reminded. “It doesn’t matter how late it gets.”

“But that was a good try at dodging, though.” Allegra smirked.

A squeak flew from Marinette’s lips before she could stop it, and the trio shared a laugh.

“Come on, guys.” Allan lightly scolded. “If you keep messing with her like this, she might spontaneously combust.”

Another laugh tumbled from Claude’s lips before he let out a dramatic sigh. “Alright, fine. I guess we can go swimming now.”

“Marinette has to cool off, anyway.” Allegra added with a wink.

Marinette groaned and put her head in her hands, if only to hide her ever-growing blush.

Mental note: Never mention a boy to the group again, because they will probably see right through you when it’s actually serious.

Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252

#felinette #Marinette #Felix Culpa #Quantic Kids #Rosemary AU #New Girl on the Block

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yourlocalfictionalenthusiast · 4 years ago

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IN LIFE, IN DEATH...

PART EIGHT

:Masterlist:

Warnings: just swearing, I think :)

A/N: oof I’m bad at posting on time but here’s part eight! thank you all for your feedback on the last part and feel free to let me know what you think about this part too <3

October 1994

“Ow.”

You groaned as you collapsed in the middle seat of the back of Bobby’s car, so tired that you practically fell asleep the second you got off your feet. It was your second weekend in a row of playing all day shows, and every part of your body was screaming at you in exhaustion.

“Remind me why we’re happy about this gig again?” Alex grumbled from the passenger seat, stretching out his no-doubt sore fingers.

Next to you, Reggie had slumped in his seat. “I can’t feel my legs.”

Even Luke, who was usually still full of adrenaline after a performance, looked a little deflated as he secured his guitar into the trunk and piled into the car. As soon as he sat down in his usual seat on your left, he dropped his entire weight on you, making you fall into Reggie.

“You okay there, Lu?” You asked as you sat as up-right as you could with him still leaning on your shoulder. He muttered sleepily in response and you laughed. “Guys, I think Luke’s dead.”

“I don’t blame him. I’m pretty sure that’s the hardest we’ve ever played.” Bobby sighed as he pulled out of the parking lot and started to drive in the direction of Reggie’s house to drop him off. You relaxed into your seat, watching the lights fly by the window. You all sat in comfortable silence until Bobby pulled up to a red light and turned around to look at all of you. “Votes for just crashing at the garage?”

You agreed immediately since the studio was a lot closer than any of your houses, and having Bobby drive when he was tired probably wasn’t the smartest idea.

“I could definitely go for not going home.” Alex said and you smiled at him sympathetically. Reggie agreed and turned to ask Luke, but all he got was the sound of quiet snoring in response. You all laughed as Bobby turned around and started driving to his house.

The quiet rumble of the car on the road and the warmth of Luke’s skin against yours was making you more and more tired by the second. You leaned over and rested your head on top of his and closed your eyes.

The drive to the garage was shorter than you thought, but by the time you got there, you were practically ready to pass out.

It took all your energy to gently coax Luke out of your shoulder and hop out of the car to help Bobby unload the equipment out of the trunk and back into the loft. While you were up there, you grabbed a pile of sleeping bags and blankets to give to the boys who were now arguing over what to watch.

They settled on The Empire Strikes Back, per Reggie’s request. You watched it absentmindedly from your spot on the couch, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets. The more time went by, the more your tiredness faded away, leaving you restless and frustrated. When the movie reached the halfway point, you had officially given up on sleeping.

You didn’t realize that you were sighing until Luke, who was laying on the floor under your head, opened his eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You muttered.

“It’s okay, I can’t sleep either.” Luke said. “Not when Alex snores like a bear.”

You laughed, looking over to Alex who was sleeping deeply across the room, his snore blocking out the sound of the movie. “Yeah, thank god he’s the only one that does that.”

“Are you trying to say that I snore?” Luke gasped, squinting when you laughed and nodded your head at him. After a minute of silence, Luke looked up at you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.” You said.

“Why didn’t you want to go home?” He asked. “Everything okay with your mom?”

“Yeah, she’s just been working a lot lately and it feels weird being home alone.” You said. “What about your mom?”

Luke was quiet for a minute, so quiet that you almost thought that he fell asleep until he let out a deep sigh. He had told you that things were getting rockier between him and his parents everyday but you could tell by the grimace on his face that something more was going on. “She threatened to make me quit the band.”

“Wait, what?” You said a little too loudly.

“I got an F on a test and she flipped out.” Luke explained. “But if I pass the next one, hopefully she’ll stay off me for a while.”

“I’m surprised that she even let you stay here tonight.” You said.

“Yeah, about that.” Luke cringed. “I didn’t exactly ask her.”

You sighed and shook your head. “You know she’s gonna kill you when you go home tomorrow, right?”

He rolled his eyes but then quickly switched to his puppy-dog look. “Come with me?”

“What? No, I’m not gonna be your accomplice.”

“Please?” Luke begged. “She loves you, and there’s no way she’d kill me if you were there.”

You sighed, cursing yourself for not being able to resist his stupid face. “Fine, but you owe me.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Luke beamed.

You reached your arm from the couch and pushed his face lightly. “Go to sleep, weirdo.”

2020

Being dead was boring.

You had poured over your songbook a dozen times, walked laps around the studio, and absentmindedly threw darts against the wall.

Normally, you would drag Alex out into the city or make Reggie sing country songs with you, but everyone was off getting ready for the gig tonight.

So with nothing better to do, you decided to visit Julie at school. You closed your eyes and poofed into the crowded hallway. You spotted Julie putting books into her locker and you phased right next to her.

“Hi.” You greeted and Julie jumped, letting out a quiet squeal.

“(Y/n)! Normal people don’t do that and ghosts definitely shouldn’t. “What are you doing here?” She asked, smiling awkwardly at people who were giving her weird looks as they passed down the hall.

“Well, I think we should decide what song we’re going with tonight.” You said and Julie tilted her head at you and squinted, knowing that you weren’t telling the whole truth. “Okay, and I was also really bored at the studio.”

“So I’m your entertainment?” She questioned as she dug her phone out of her pocket and raised it to her ear so it didn't look like she was talking to herself.

“Yep, you’re stuck with me.” You smiled sweetly.

“Who knew ghosts were so clingy?” She joked, struggling to hold back a smile when you pouted back at her. “Aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with that mysterious guy from the café last night? Teddy?”

“I figured I’d be too busy getting ready for the gig so I just swung by and told him to come to the show.” You explained, making Julie raise her eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing.” She clicked her tongue. "I’m sure Luke is gonna love that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, well, Luke doesn’t get to have an opinion.”

“I don’t get to have an opinion on what?” A voice asked from behind you and you whirled around to find Luke leaning against the lockers with a smile. You had been so distracted talking to Julie that you didn’t even hear him phase in behind you.

“The fact that we’re doing ‘Edge of Great’ tonight.” You said quickly, desperately hoping that he bought your lie. Thankfully, he seemed to believe you.

“Sweet. That’s what I was thinking anyway.” He turned to Julie. “Hey, why not ditch school today? Let’s go rehearse!”

“What? No, I can’t. I promised my dad that school comes first. Plus, I have the dance with Nick today.” She reasoned and you smirked, thinking back at the way that he was staring at her at the dance.

“Ooh, Nick.” You teased and Julie glared at you. After a brief second, her eyes widened. You turned to see Nick walking towards her and you quickly grabbed Luke’s wrist and dragged him to the side so they could talk. "Speak of the devil."

“Hey, Julie!” Nick smiled warmly. “Ready for our performance?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna do great.” Julie shoved her phone into her bag, clearly trying not to look over at you and Luke who were watching with rapt attention.

“I’m glad you’re confident. I think that after three classes, I just got worse. But good thing I have my secret weapon.” Nick nervously shoved his hands in his pockets and you couldn’t help but smile at Nick’s way of awkwardly flirting.

Next to you, Luke whooped. “Oh, I think someone’s got a little crush on our Julie.”

You cringed a little as you looked over at him, expecting to see jealousy on his face. But if anything, he looked the exact opposite. Amused and eager to tease Julie about it, the same way he did back when Reggie tried to hit on girls after a gig. He caught you looking at him and softly smiled, a dramatic shift from the teasing smirk he had on a second ago.

“Shut up,” Julie said to Luke, cringing when Nick frowned at her. “I mean, shut up.”

“No, seriously, Molina. I’m nothing without you.” He said. You walked behind Nick, peering over his shoulder to make kissy faces at her which made Luke laugh.

"I'm sure you'll be great." She pushed his shoulder, making you jump back a little. “See you in there?"

“Yeah, I’ll be the guy trying not to make us look stupid.” You watched him walk away before turning to Julie.

"Julie, he totally likes you!" You laughed excitedly.

"Boundaries." She reminded you, but there was a smile on her face. You and Luke both raised your hands in surrender and she waved over her shoulder as she walked away. "I'll see you guys after school, okay?"

Once she was gone, Luke shook his head dramatically. "They grow up so fast."

You snorted. "C'mon, dork. Let's go rehearse."

After getting back to the studio, you immediately snapped into pre-gig mode.

You collapsed on the floor near the couch, sticking your legs up against the armrest next to Reggie as you all listened to Luke go over the song, he ran his pencil along the paper. "So we add the echoes and then the girls come in with the melody.”

You nodded. “Julie gets home in like an hour and then we can start rehearsing.”

Suddenly, there was a loud thud on the garage door and you spun around just in time to see Willie’s head disappear. You frowned and looked over at Alex for an explanation but he just shook his head.

“Again? What’s that about?” Reggie asked but Alex had already poofed out to chase the other boy. You frowned as you stared at the space where he was just sitting, thinking about how happy he was about Willie not even two days ago.

Just as quickly as he left, Alex came phasing back in with a hurt look on his face. You immediately sat up to question him but he just strolled over to his drums and suggested starting practice.

You all agreed reluctantly and got into place. Luke counted down and started to play, stopping almost immediately as Alex started going off course, slamming on his drums a little harder than necessary.

“Al, you okay?” You asked gently as he set down his drumsticks.

“Yeah, why?”

“I know it’s tough, man. They say you never forget your first ghost.” Reggie tried to reassure him. “But I’m sure there will be others.”

“Yeah, and you’re a great drummer and an even greater guy.” You added. “Don’t let all this get in the way of your music.”

“I don’t know. Sometimes a little fire can make things better on stage.” Reggie said, pointing between you and Luke. “Like you guys.”

You were thankful that Luke was behind you and couldn’t see the look on your face. You glared at Reggie but he just smirked back at you, and you made a mental note to kick his ass later.

“What’s your point, Reg?” Playing dumb probably wasn’t your best move, but you could you really didn’t want to make things awkward with Luke again.

“I’m just saying when you play your little on-stage game,” Reggie said. “You guys ooze chemistry.”

“You should never say ‘ooze’ again, but yeah, I agree.” Alex piped up from behind his drums, giving you a shit-eating grin. Great, now you had two asses to kick.

You looked back at Luke to find him already staring at you as he rubbed the back of his neck. You shared a bashful smile before looking everywhere but each other.

“Yeah, but I have chemistry with everyone I sing with.” Luke reasoned, sounding a little panicked. “Watch.”

He walked over to Reggie and sang directly in his face, making you and Alex struggle not to laugh.

“I see chemistry.” Alex joked.

“That was pretty hot.” Reggie admitted as Luke kissed his fingers and pressed them against Reggie’s lips, making him sputter awkwardly. “Girls, am I right?”

Luke laughed as he walked back over to his spot and tugged his guitar strap over his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“No.” Alex said with a smile, making you burst out laughing.

Hours later, you stood on your tip-toes, peering out at the crowd that had grown enough to fill the entire driveway.

As they all waited for the show to start, you reached down and felt the outline of your parent’s photo shoved in your pocket. You patted it for good luck, the way you always did before a performance.

Julie stood in front of the garage doors as they were pulled open. There was a wave of applause and Julie settled behind her mic, greeting everyone before starting her solo. Her voice rang out clear over the soft piano, and everyone watched intently, waiting for the rest of you to appear. On top of the balcony, the fake projector clicked on and you took your cue, smiling at the crowd as your voice joined Julie’s.

Just like every time you made your entrance, everyone gasped in surprise and cheered.

You did your best to pose as you sang and danced around, trying to get everyone hyped up. A few people held up their cameras and took pictures, one girl holding her phone so close to your face that you were a little worried that it would go through your head.

Out of the corner of your eye, there was a sudden bright light. For a second, you thought it was just another person taking a picture with their flash, but then you looked over to see Teddy leaning against the wall. He waved a little and you gave him a small smile before going back to the song.

Just as Luke’s verse started, he followed your eyes and saw Teddy, his usual charming smile faltering for a second before locking eyes with you.

Then it was time for your verse with Julie, so you turned away from Luke and strolled towards the piano, watching as Julie crawled on top of it. You followed her lead and sat on the edge, facing the audience and launching into the lyrics.

You could hear Teddy cheering loudly to your right, catching the attention of the whole band, but mostly Luke. As the music softened, Luke suddenly abandoned his spot behind his microphone and was now slowly walking towards you.

He started playing a solo that definitely wasn't planned and almost drowned out the sound of both your and Julie’s voices. When you turned around, you found that he was only a few feet away.

Luke put on his flirty, on-stage face as he slowly inched forward until he was right in front of you. But there was another layer under it. Something sharper and completely unfamiliar. You must’ve seen a hundred different expressions on Luke's face but he had never looked at you like that before.

You tried to look over Julie, who was looking at the two of you with a smirk, but Luke seemed determined to keep your attention. You were extremely grateful that you couldn't blush because you would've been bright red.

The bubble was broken as the chorus started up again and Luke smirked at you one last time before walking back to his microphone. The crowd roared and you took a breath, mentally cursing him and his stupid face for distracting you.

The soft piano came back in and the boys phased away as you and Julie finished the song. You bowed and disappeared, poofing back into the garage.

It was just after dark when the last of the crowd went home.

Julie stayed around for a while but she eventually went inside too, leaving the four of you alone in the cold night air.

You sat on the concrete of the driveway, your songbook propped up on your knee as you watched the boys play basketball. You cheered them on and absentmindedly scribbled doodles on the corners of pages of your old songs.

There was a sharp pop in the air and you looked up to see Teddy standing at the end of the driveway, his hands in his pockets as he walked closer.

You had been so caught up in Luke during the performance and then celebrating with the band afterward that by the time you went to look for Teddy, he had disappeared. You quickly got up and brushed off your legs before running to meet him.

“Hey! There you are, you kinda disappeared.” You said and Teddy cleared his throat.

“Yeah, sorry. Uh, can we walk somewhere? We really need to talk.” Teddy said and you cringed when you realized that it suddenly went completely quiet behind you.

You looked back at your friends who were all watching you with different expressions. Reggie looked almost nervous as he fidgeted with the basketball in his hands. Next to him, Alex stared Teddy down with his trademark intense glare and Luke just stood there with his arms crossed as he stared into the street behind you.

“Yeah, okay.” You said quickly, hoping to avoid any more awkwardness. You went to lead Teddy away when suddenly the boys stumbled back, groaning painfully as they were hit with another shock. “Shit!"

Without fully meaning to, you ran to Luke first, quickly inspecting him and watching him carefully as he winced in pain. You glanced over to Reggie and Alex to make sure they were okay before turning back to Luke.

“It’s getting worse.” Luke told you as he rubbed his chest.

“Why is this happening to us?” Reggie asked.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the air. "It’s because you guys are in serious trouble.”

You whipped around to see Willie nervously wringing his hands as he stepped into the light.

Alex took a step closer to him, looking dazed like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Willie?”

“Like I said,” Teddy said suddenly, making everyone look at him. “We need to talk.”

Even though you weren’t supposed to be able to get cold anymore, a chill overtook your whole body as you walked down the street.

You could hear everyone talking in front of you but your brain had shut off after Willie explained the basics the first time. Not only was he secretly working for an evil club owner, but Teddy, who you thought was your friend, was teaming up with him in order to steal your soul and make you and your best friends play in a house band for all eternity.

Your brain was so full that you felt like any more information would make you short-circuit.

“So, all these shocks are because of the stamps that Caleb put on us?” Luke asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“He’s threatened by you,” Willie explained as he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and whipped around. “You’re the only ghosts that lifers can see without his help.”

Alex, who had been just as quiet as you this whole time suddenly spoke up. “And you let him do this to us?”

“I can’t stop him.” Willie tried to defend himself. “He owns my soul!”

“He owns half of Hollywood’s souls.” Teddy butted in. “It’s kind of his thing.”

Willie took a deep, unsteady breath. “If he even knew we were here talking to you…”

He didn’t finish, but from the pained look on his face, you could tell that he couldn’t have been going anywhere good with that sentence.

Next to you, Reggie crossed his arms. “So if we don’t join his club, this power outage keeps going on until there’s no power left?”

Willie nodded and Reggie scoffed. “And what exactly happens when the power goes out?”

Teddy cleared his throat. “You disappear forever. No crossing over, you just...stop existing.”

“So we have no choice?” Luke snapped as he glared at Teddy. “We have to leave our friend, our band, behind to work for Caleb forever?”

“There is another option.” Teddy said. “If you could figure out your unfinished business, you could cross over in time and be free from all of it.”

“Okay, so what’s our unfinished business?” Luke asked.

“I don’t know.” Teddy gestured to all of you. “But since you all died at the same time, it’s probably something you have to do together.”

“Why should we listen to anything either of you has to say?” Alex said as he glared at both Teddy and Willie. He sounded so betrayed that it made your stomach turn.

“Because I care about you, Alex.” Willie pleaded. “I hate that it’s my fault that you and your friends are in this mess.”

It was quiet for a minute before he looked around anxiously. “I can’t be gone any longer. I’m sorry.”

With that, he disappeared.

“Don’t be too hard on Willie,” Teddy said once he was gone. “He wanted out of the plan the minute Caleb told us everything.”

“And what about you?” You asked, trying to contain your anger and Teddy sighed.

“(Y/n), I know that being your friend started out as a lie,” He pleaded. “But it’s not anymore.”

“You really expect me to believe that?” You scoffed.

“Look, I know you don’t know me, but I know you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know how much Cece cared about you, and I know that this isn’t what she would’ve wanted.”

As if everything wasn’t enough, being reminded of Cece made you feel even worse. Teddy was your last connection to her and now you couldn't even stand to be near him. “I think you should go.”

“(Y/n), please-” Teddy tried to take a step closer to you but Alex fixed him with a look so intense that he backed up almost immediately. With a sigh, he phased away, leaving the four of you out on the street alone.

“This is all my fault.” Alex said, his voice breaking a little. “I met Willie, and he introduced us to Caleb.”

“Alex, no.” You shook your head. “This isn’t anyone’s fault.”

“We have to tell Julie.” Reggie said, washing a new wave of sadness over all of you.

“We can’t.” You said. “She’s lost too much already.”

“If we don’t want Caleb to own our souls, we need to figure out our unfinished business.” Luke started walking further down the street.

“And how are we supposed to do that?” Alex asked as you all followed him. “There was so much that we wanted to do.”

Luke suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, his eyes trailing up to the buildings. “The night we died, there was one thing we wanted to do together.”

You followed his eyes to see the Orpheum’s sign casting a blue glow on the street. “Play the Orpheum?”

“Getting that gig was impossible,” Alex said. “We had to call in favors and impress who knows how many club owners. It took us years.”

Just as the last word got out, they were hit with another shock. You cringed in sympathy and rested your hand on Alex’s arm.

“We don’t have years.” Luke said through a groan as he clutched his chest.

Everyone went their separate ways once you made it back to the garage.

Reggie went up to the house, and Alex barely sat still for five minutes before he left to go on a walk, leaving just you and Luke.

You sat on the rungs of the loft's ladder, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to process everything that's happened. Getting so close to living out your dream only to die and become a ghost, finding out that people could still hear you play, Bobby betraying all of you, meeting Julie and Teddy. It all felt so unreal.

There is no way you’d believe any of it if someone told you all this would happen back when you were alive.

Suddenly, Luke appeared at the base of the ladder, frowning up at you. "Uh-oh. You’re perched up there again.”

“What?” You questioned.

“In your thinking spot.” Luke laughed. “Why do you think we all called you ‘Batman’ in seventh grade?”

"How could I not be thinking right now, Lu?" You said as you carefully slid down to the floor, and Luke backed up slightly to give you space. “I mean, we just found out that we have to play an impossible gig and cross over or you guys will-”

The words died in your throat. You couldn’t even bring yourself to talk about possibly losing any of them. Just thinking about it opened a black hole in your chest.

But there was something else on your mind too. Even though you told Alex that it wasn’t anyone’s fault, you couldn’t help but feel guilty about trusting Teddy. But for Cece’s sake, you wanted to believe that he was actually your friend.

You wanted to tell Luke everything you were thinking, or at least try to explain why you didn’t take his advice. But of course, Luke already knew what was going on inside your head.

“None of this is your fault, Squeaks.” He reassured. Your lips quirked up slightly at the nickname. You almost couldn’t remember the last time he called you that and hearing it again immediately made you feel warm. "Besides, your unique ability to blindly trust people is one of my favorite things about you."

You snorted and Luke fought a laugh before continuing. “Well, that and your snort.”

“If you’re gonna be mean to me, I’m going back up to my perch.” You jokingly turned towards the ladder but Luke was quick to grab your hand, turning your back around and pulling you closer to him.

You looked up at Luke as his fingers intertwined with yours. You had held hands with Luke countless times, and you hated the fact that it affected you as much as it always did. It was normally just a way of comforting each other. But after the way he acted during the gig, you couldn’t help but wonder if…

“Hey,” Luke said. “We’re gonna figure everything out.”

“How do you know?”

Luke gave you a smile as he pulled you even closer and wrapped his arms around you. “When have I ever been wrong?”

You laughed and Luke squeezed your hand playfully in response. Your head was still spinning with everything that happened tonight, but the guilt had lessened a little as you tucked your head into his shoulder.

You don't know how long you stayed like that. It felt like hours and seconds all at the same time, but when you finally did pull away, you found yourself frozen in place. Your arms still locked each other, your face now just inches away from his.

“(Y/n), I…” Luke started, his voice uncertain as his eyes drifted down to your lips.

Holy shit.

You blinked up at him, actively trying not to freak out while you waited for whatever his next move was going to be. Were you hallucinating or was Luke about to kiss you?

Just as he went to speak again, there was a bright flash and Alex poofed in just a few feet away. As soon as he saw your and Luke’s position, his jaw dropped and he mumbled nonsense for a few seconds before clearing his throat.

“Hey.” He said, sending you an apologetic look as you and Luke separated so fast that it made you dizzy. “(Y/n), can I talk to you for a second?”

You slowly nodded and smiled awkwardly at Luke before grabbing Alex’s arm and dragging both of you out of the studio. All your thoughts from earlier disappeared and were replaced with one simple question:

What the hell just happened?

In Life, In Death Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull @wanniiieeee @tenaciousperfectionunknown @charliegillespiewife @merceret @itismeasmolpotato @lilostif16 @dangerouslyclose @iainttakingshitfromnobody @givemebooksorgivemedeath @sunsetcurvedotmp3 @askgeoff @mayleenicole5676 @puppy11148 @vampire7595 @wackyworrieruniverse @reallysparklychaos @lovelydaydreams15

JATP Taglist:

@caitsymichelle13 @sunsetcurvej

Let me know if you want to be added!

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #Alex Mercer #Reggie Peters #julie molina #jatp fanfic #jatp

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whatifxwereyou · 4 years ago

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 7: Symptom

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Three days in a row on accident because I have 0 self control. Someone on ao3 suggested a hot spring scene but it didn't fit the narrative- SO I have also written two "interludes" in the springs. I will post those both this weekend for funsies. No idea where they fit in the story but they're fun so who cares? Haha.

Part 6 Interlude One: Electricity in the Springs (Kung Lao x Reader) Interlude Two: Steam (Liu Kang x Reader) Part 8 Chapter Index

Together you walked through the temple, Kung Lao leading you down several flights of stairs, further into the mountainside. He chatted with you casually about several of the halls that you passed; what was down them and places he had explored with Liu Kang when they had been strictly forbidden to do so. You were grateful for the white noise of conversation. It was even nostalgic. He’d talk like this when he’d come to visit you at your Grandma’s. He’d talk and talk about anything and everything, even if you never said a word.

“Y/N?” He slowed his walk. You turned toward him and stopped walking just in front of where he’d now stopped. “Can I ask you something? And will you be honest with me?”

“Depends on the question, Kung Lao.”

“Are you sweet on Liu Kang?”

Completely floored by the boldness of his accusation, you stuttered and then laughed uncomfortably. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just curious. You lit up when he joined us in the pit.” He seemed barely able to say the words without gagging though there was a playful smile on his lips still.

“I don’t remember you being such a gossip.”

“You’re avoiding answering the question, Y/N.”

With a roll of your eyes, you shoved his shoulder. “I’m not dignifying that with an answer.” You were flustered to say the very least. Kung Lao was so damn forward, a far cry from how any of the time you’d spent with Liu Kang had been. He’d just outright asked! Of course you were sweet on Liu Kang, of course you were.

“Oh? Well, then what about me?” He tapped his chest with a childlike grin. “Were you ever sweet on me? Are you still?”

“You know, I am seriously considering throwing ink at you again.” You batted your eyelashes and spoke in a teasing sort of way. The questions were intrusive but he said them in such a way that it was actually comical. It was funny, honestly, to think that you’d fallen right back into a rapport that you’d had with Kung Lao when you were kids. He stepped in front of you to stop you from continuing forward. Then he pointed to your left. You followed him down the hall and then he leaned against the wall near an opening that led down yet another hall. He tapped the sign to his left that read ‘women only’.

“I can’t go past here without getting in trouble.” He held his arm out to stop you as you made to walk past him to further avoid awkward conversation. He didn’t need to say anything. The look he gave you was enough to know that he wanted an answer.

“I’m not thinking about that right now, Kung Lao. I’ve got ink in places that I don’t want to discuss with you.” You pouted and knocked his arm aside. He pulled it back. “What’s going on with you? You just got back and we’ve barely spoken since, you know, you died.” You emphasized the word more dramatically than necessary. The humidity beyond the hall in front of you was already filling the hall and you craved the comfort of clean, hot water. “These are silly questions, anyway.” Your nerves were very much shining through. You weren’t ready to admit anything to anyone. The last thing you wanted was Kung Lao meddling.

“I brought you something, that’s all.”

“I feel like this something comes with terms and conditions with the way that you’re talking.”

“Not at all. But if you’re sweet on Liu Kang then it might make things weird.”

“Do whatever you want, Kung Lao, just do it quickly. The ink is starting to crust and this conversation has made me so uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to give it to you no matter what your answer had been. I was just trying to weasel an answer out of you.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Some things never change.” Despite your obvious frustration, you couldn’t help but smile. Kung Lao had been a huge comfort to you when things had been at their most difficult in your youth. It was as though he’d never left. The lack of distance you felt between you was strange and you struggled to wrap your mind around it. You had to remind yourself that you hadn’t seen him in almost twenty years. “You’re such a pest, Kung Lao.”

You walked through the doorway but Kung Lao grasped your wrist and twisted you back to face him. You made a sound of surprise and stumbled into him. He caught you with a laugh.

“You’re clumsier than I expected after how you fought earlier.”

“Kung Lao, I swear.”

He reached between the folds of his shirt and withdrew a small purple flower. Your stomach dropped and you stared with your mouth hanging open, having been forming an empty threat. The flower. It was the exact same kind of flower that he’d given you the last time that you’d seen him when you’d been kids. Your heart had practically stopped in your chest.

“I made a detour on the way back. You’re right. They don’t grow in town anymore. Had to look around a bit before I found one.”

“Kung Lao…” Chills raced down your spine and you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat before reaching to grasp the flower. Kung Lao pulled it out of your reach.

“I thought that instead of teasing you like I used to as a dumb kid that I would be better off making a kind gesture.” Much to your surprise, he took your hand and placed the precious flower in your palm.

“I… uh…” You stuttered, feeling just about as clueless as you sounded.

“Enjoy the springs, Y/N. You can have your privacy for now but next time we’re joining you.” He patted your shoulder then tipped his hat and turned, walking away with a skip in his step down the hall.

You watched him go and sighed, resting your back against the stone wall while staring at the flower that he’d left you with. It was a precious little thing, with soft rows of petals that seemed frail but held on stronger than they looked. There was a small speck of pollen at its center and the stem was just long enough that you could wrap your fist around it. You’d gone looking for those flowers once in hopes of keeping them in the garden behind the dojo. There hadn’t been any and when you’d asked about them, no one knew where you could find one. It had been so long since you’d seen one living that you’d forgotten how resilient and perfect they were.

It seemed a small thing but it was also a huge gesture. He hadn’t said what the gesture meant but he had implied it well enough. You were surprised by how touched you were by the flower. If he’d caught you out there staring at the flower, then you would have never heard the end of it. He’d likely have teased you for being sweet on him.

You turned and entered the hall just to your left. There was a changing room with rudimentary waterflow systems so that you could clean off before going into the actual springs. You had never been so grateful for running water in your life. Ink pooled at your feet as you showered off, scrubbing as much of the ink away as you could. As you did, you felt your side sting painfully. Then blood flowed freely with the spray of water. You held your hand over the wound on your side and winced. You’d forgotten that Kung Lao had gotten you with the hat. You’d been so full of adrenaline and excitement that it had slipped your mind.

Now that you’d felt it, it was difficult to forget. Besides that, it was bleeding fairly freely for something that had happened some time ago now and should have scabbed over. It was probably a bad decision but you were going to enjoy the springs anyway. You found a first aid kit and covered the wound with gauze, then the gauze entirely with tape to protect it from the water. Then you took one of the towels there and wrapped it around yourself.

The cave beyond was smooth and the steam filled the room from floor to ceiling. These springs were huge. The cave formation seemed fairly natural, settling in shallow areas with deeper pools spread throughout. From where you stood, you couldn’t see the end of it but you didn’t feel the need to go far. In the distance, you could see several other monks enjoying the springs but they were far enough away that you wouldn’t be bothered by them.

You were suddenly disappointed that Kung Lao and Liu Kang hadn’t joined you. It was likely that they were too busy anyway. Your face went red at the mental image of what could have been and you sunk into the water and swooned. It was probably for the best that you’d come alone. Next time though, all bets were off. You rested the flower next to you on the stone beside where you rested your head.

It was difficult not to fall asleep with the warmth of the springs and the sound of rushing water in the room behind. Now that you were drifting in and out, you were grateful for some alone time. Often the air around Liu Kang was so stifled with whatever tension you’d cooked up that day that you couldn’t talk or think straight. And you had no idea what was happening with Kung Lao. You had to talk eventually and catch up but for now, those were all problems for you to deal with later. Future Y/N’s problems. Right now nothing mattered except for you, the steam, and the comfort of the springs.

Finally, you got up and as you did, the room spun. How long had you been lying there? Time was difficult to judge in the dimly lit cavern with scant an opening to the outside world. You lifted yourself from the springs, cautious of the flower you’d set aside, and sat on the edge. Then you whined since your towel and the water surrounding you was stained pink. Apparently two layers of gauze and a roll of tape wasn’t enough to keep the wound closed.

How embarrassing. Light-headed with blood loss because you’d been careless.

You picked up the flower and returned to the changing room. There were no extra clothes so you had to choose towel or filthy gi and you trusted the gi more than the towel. It was as crusted as you had joked it had been earlier. Before tying the top closed, you checked the wound and inhaled sharply at the sight of it. It bled freely and was red and ugly looking. Panic swelled in your chest.

When you’d been a kid your wounds had bled more freely than they should have. Even a scraped knee had been a problem. Doctors had put you on medicine to help you clot but it hadn’t helped. There was no way it was happening again. You’d outgrown it.

No, you were being silly. It had been the water and bad timing. You wrapped the wound tightly again but the damage had been done and your fingers tingled as a reminder. You’d been a fool not to go to the infirmary before going to the springs. Between the poison having made your blood such a mess and your recovery from those wounds, it was a wonder that you hadn’t accidentally bled to death while napping in the springs!

Carefully, you tied the gi closed and then tucked the flower inside of it safely. When you’d been led there by Kung Lao earlier, you’d made a point to remember where you’d come from so that you could return without getting lost. You’d spent more time lost in Raiden’s Temple than you had ever spent lost in your life.

You felt Liu’s energy before you saw him turning a corner and walking toward you. He smiled in greeting but it quickly fell into a look of concern. “Are you okay?”

You sure were tired of that question. Then again, you didn’t feel well thanks to your lack of foresight.

“Huh?”

“You’re incredibly pale.”

“Oh yeah. It’s dumb, really.” You pulled on the tear in the side of your gi and Liu’s worry only worsened.

“You said you were fine earlier.”

“Adrenaline is a funny thing, Liu. I forgot about it until I was cleaning up.”

“Kung Lao didn’t help you take care of it before letting you go?”

“I’m almost certain that he alsoforgot about it.”

“Careless.” Liu Kang didn’t sound surprised. “Come sit with me. We’ll take care of it.”

You looked him over, pulled the sliced gi a little and then looked back to Liu knowingly. What, were you just supposed to take your shirt off so that he could take a look at your wound? He laughed and held both his hands up defensively as if realizing what he was asking you to do. You caught the slightest bit of red on his cheeks. It was nice to know that it wasn’t in your head.

“If you aren’t comfortable doing that then come with me to the infirmary.”

“Ugh.” You were so tired of the infirmary! But you were feeling the impact of blood loss at an alarming rate. Your fingers were frigid and your breath was shallower than it should have been. You leaned against the wall nearby with a heavy sigh.

“Please?”

“I can probably sleep it off, Liu.”

“You’re like a ghost, Y/N.” He tried to joke but the worry in his eyes wasn’t going away. You were such a sucker for those eyes that you melted almost immediately.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about it.” You pouted and he laughed, offering you his arm.

“Thank you for humoring me, Y/N.”

Together you walked through the maze of corridors. Liu filled you in on what he and Kung Lao had done after you’d left. It hadn’t been anything remarkable, mostly tasks they were given to contribute to the life they lived in Raiden’s Temple. When you reached the infirmary, you were taken away by one of the female monks that you’d gotten acquainted with during your time there. They offered you a change of clothing and you couldn’t have been more grateful. A tank top and some comfortable loose pants. Familiar clothing, at long last. It was far easier to maneuver those around with the wound on your side.

Afterward you returned to the main room and sat on one of the benches there. The monk crouched next to you and you lifted up your shirt to show them the wound. It definitely looked uglier than it had earlier but it had also gone completely numb. Why couldn’t it look like the minor convenience you’d viewed it as earlier? Now it was swollen and the flesh was torn and jagged. Liu’s expression shifted and he turned away from you to hide it.

“It’s good you came to us. Don’t want to get an infection.” The monk offered you a smile then set about working on the wound. It was no longer numb and you twitched but stifled any painful objection you may have had. Liu stood behind the bench and offered you a hand to squeeze which you took.

“I’m fine.” You reassured him but your brain was buzzing. Did he think you were weak? Frail? Easily broken? You were strong! You had worked so hard to be strong. It was just a bad situation, overall. Kung Lao had immediately regretted throwing the hat at you. Accidents happened. You were getting it taken care of and you would be the better for it.

“Stay with us for a few hours to make sure you are alright.” The monk said and while it seemed like a question, it didn’t really seem optional. You exchanged a glance with Liu who you knew would argue with you to get you to stay. You had no leg to stand on except that you wanted to go back to your room.

“Fine.” The monk bowed to you gratefully and walked away. Liu had you scoot over and then took the seat next to you.

“I told you that hat was trouble.”

“You did. And I know staying is the right thing to do. I’m not happy about it though. I want to be strong again, Liu. It’s one setback after another.” He picked up your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ll get there. Be patient with yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, monk stuff, inner peace and all that.” He laughed at you. “So much for celebrating.”

“There will be plenty of time to celebrate later. This is more important. Tomorrow is another day.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll stay until you find rest.”

“I’m not sleeping here tonight, Liu. I’m going back to my room the moment they say I can.”

“Sure, Y/N.” He seemed unconvinced and you pouted. Afterward you made casual conversation about your arcana, things that Liu wished to test, and what they thought your capabilities might be. Liu seemed to think you’d be excellent at mimicry. What was ink used for if not to record things? Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep against his shoulder.

***

Liu Kang waited until you fell asleep then watched you for some time afterward. Just to make sure you were alright. Then he crept away from where you rested and consulted with the monks, ignoring their snide remarks about the attention he paid you. It wasn’t their place to judge what he did with his time.

He finished his errands for the evening and as he returned to his quarters, he found Kung Lao in the fight pit, tossing his hat about and practicing. Liu stepped into the fight pit and when the hat turned toward him, he knocked it back with a definitive kick where it slammed against the sand. Kung Lao willed the hat back to him, caught it, and slipped it back on his head, strip neatly tucked under his chin.

“Want to spar? I don’t think I can sleep.”

“No, I’m good.” Liu folded his arms over his chest. “You were careless today, Kung Lao. Y/N nearly bled to death because of it.”

“What? Is she okay?” Kung Lao took an aggressive step toward the stairs but Liu held his arm out to block him, stepping back with him. Liu then explained where he’d found you in the hall and what they’d had to do in the infirmary where you were now resting. “…so she’s fine, is what you’re saying.”

“That’s not the point, Lao.”

“I’m sorry, Liu. I forgot. She handled it like a champ and kept on fighting. I was extra careful but it slipped! We were having so much fun that we may have gotten carried away. We used to pretend when we were kids…”

“I’m not here to scold you. I only wanted to let you know and to remind you to be mindful. Not all the warriors with the marking will be the two of us. Some might not have any experience at all. We’re lucky that Y/N does.”

“What is this, Liu?” Kung Lao’s tone shifted and his lips curled into a knowing smile.

“The consequences of your actions.” Liu turned to leave the arena.

“You know, I asked you to make sure that she was okay and keep her safe not to fall for her.” Kung Lao called after him. It wasn’t an accusation. He didn’t sound angry. He’d always had a way of stirring the pot.

“And keeping her safe is what I’ve done. Then you come back and undo half of the progress she’d made because you wanted to show off.” Liu turned again to face him. There was nothing that would undo their bond of brotherhood but Kung Lao had always been his careless counterpart. In the Academy he’d skipped classes, ignored studies, and had dragged Liu into all sorts of trouble. While Liu had been more studious, he’d gotten them into plenty of trouble over the years too.

“I’m sorry. Really, Liu. I’ll be more careful.” Kung Lao slipped his hat under his arm. “You’d tell me though, right?” Liu threw him a disapproving glare. “When I left back then one of my biggest regrets was not telling her the truth. I never thought I’d see her again so with time I wasn’t sure it mattered. Now I have a chance to be better than I was then. So, I’m going to ask you again. What is this, Liu? You’d tell me, right?”

Liu stepped back. They’d wrestled over far less and he was in no mood. He didn’t know what to say either. He didn’t want to lie to Kung Lao but he wasn’t sure what it was other than a few close calls and some pretty clear attraction.

“That was more than enough of an answer.” Kung Lao dusted off his still ink stained shirt. “Well, may the best man win.”

“This isn’t a contest, Kung Lao. We’re brothers. Always and no matter what.”

“Of course. And I’m going to win.” Kung Lao walked past him and hopped up the steps two at a time, waving him off with a laugh. Liu Kang sighed deeply and looked up at the starry night sky. That could have gone better but he supposed it also could have gone worse.

#liu kang x reader #kung lao x reader #mortal kombat 2021 #mortal kombat movie #liu kang/reader #kung lao/reader #kung lao x you #liu kang x you #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #angst #slow burn #mk kung lao #mk liu kang #arcana #ludi lin #max huang

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harrywritingsbyme · 5 years ago

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Kisses In The Rain

Anonymous Said: can you do one where it’s like their third date and its raining so bad so they end up stuck in harry’s range rover and talking til the rain calms down, and in the mean time she asks for some gum and he spits his in her mouth then they make out & gives h a blowie in the back seat?🥺

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: This is the latest I’ve ever posted and I’m so sorry! But this one is a big ball of fluff and smut with a bad ending. Enjoy🙃

To most, being stuck in the rain is considered to be a pain in the ass and one of the worst things ever. But for you and Harry, getting stuck in the rain was a bit of a blessing in disguise.

The two of you were leaving from you guys’ third date which was absolutely amazing. Even though it was only the third date, both you and Harry were completely hooked on each other. This third date came right on the heels of you guys having two dates in the week prior to this one, and almost a month after meeting each other for the first time. There was just this connection and spark that couldn’t keep you two away. And when you and Harry were together, the both of you made sure to soak up every second of being in each others presence.

This is exactly what was happening with you two tonight.

Harry managed to secure a reservation at one of your all time favorite restaurants and you were beyond excited. Maybe a bit more than Harry. He was so excited to see you again that he changed his outfit three times before eventually settling on something. He even got to your place a bit early so that he could spend more time with you. Luckily for Harry, your excitement matched his and you weren’t at all phased by the fact that he got a front row seat to watch you run around like a chicken with your head cut off as you were trying to get ready for you guys’ date.

After kicking Harry out of your bedroom so that you could actually get dressed without any distractions (not that you at all minded him being there with you), you were finally get ready and walk out of the door with him. Luckily, the two of you were able to beat the traffic and get to the restaurant just in time to make the reservation. Once you two sat down across from each other, you and Harry were in your zone. Even though you guys had been spending a pretty good amount of time together over the past couple of weeks, now going into a month, you and Harry were still in the getting to know each other stage. So there was plenty to talk and laugh about together. So much that the two of you spent almost three hours at the restaurant during you guys’ dinner date. When the waiter brought the check over to the table and said take your time, you two really took that to heart. Instead of promptly acknowledging the bill, about twenty minutes passed before you and Harry paid any type of attention to it. The entire three hours was filled with conversation, laughs, little touches here and there, and since you two were in the more private area of the restaurant, the two of you also shared a few pecks from across the table to each other.

Even though everything was still a bit fresh for you two, both you and Harry felt very optimistic and hopeful for what was in store for the future of you guys’ relationship.

After finally settling the bill, that is after battling over who was going to actually pay it of course, the two of you finally get yourselves ready to head out. While you two were packing yourselves up to leave, you could hear some rumblings of thunder outside, signifying to you and Harry that it was time to hurry things along.

But you guys weren’t as fast as you would’ve hoped.

As if the rain realized that you and Harry were outside, it immediately began to drizzle when Harry handed the ticket over the valet. Luckily for you both (more for you since you just got your hair done), there was a bit of an awning for you both to stand under until the car came around. After waiting for a couple minuets and standing in the rain that was getting a bit harder, the car finally came around, prompting you and Harry to make a dash to the Range Rover that was awaiting you two. Once you and Harry are are safe from the rain (and the cameras that managed to find out where Harry was), Harry wastes no time pulling off from the restaurant. He wasn’t even a good ten minuets out before the real rain began to pour out of the sky. Since it was night time and it was already dark, and now add onto that the heavy rain, Harry decides to move off to the side of the street he just turned on.

“This might be a while.” Harry huffs. Once the car is parked, he undoes his seatbelt and relaxes in his seat.

“Yeah, but at least I’m stuck with you.” You hum in agreement, mirroring his actions and undoing your seatbelt. You were tying to make the situation a little bit brighter for you two. More time to spend together right?

“I couldn’t imagine being stuck with anyone else.” Harry says through the smile that was forming on his face. When he turns his head in your direction, he’s immediately welcomed with a warm and soft smile from you. As cheesy as it sounded (and Harry was so thankful that he didn’t say this out loud), even though it was just about pitch black and gloomy outside, your smile managed to brighten up and bring warmth the entire situation. That warmth managed to infiltrate his entire body, and push him to lean over the console separating you to bring his lips to yours. When his extremely plush and pillow soft lips touch his, a jolt of electricity runs through your body. It was the same electricity that would come when you two were completely alone with absolutely no eyes watching your every move. Harry could say the exact same thing. Even through you two were in his car that was parked on a random street, the rain along with the now foggy windows from the cool air that was once flowing through the car and the warm air outside created a makeshift shield from you both. And having this privacy made you and Harry want to explore each other a bit more and be close to each other in the same way as if you two were at home. After moving your lips against each others for a little while longer, you decide to make the first move and pull away.

“Can we cuddle in the back seat? This thing is kind of in our way.” You ask, motioning your head down towards the console between you and Harry.

“Only if it means that I get to kiss you some more.” Harry bargains, pushing his lips back against yours for another peck. He couldn’t lie that he was completely addicted to kissing you. So addicted that he was dying to not only kiss your lips, but the rest of your body.

“Are you trying to have a backseat make out session with me Styles?” You tease him, bringing the hand that had made it’s way up to his shoulder, further up to his cheek to give him a little squeeze.

“Only if you want it to be a backseat make out session.” He continues.

“Well I’ll make sure to leave my shoes up here when I crawl back there. I know you’re crazy about your cars.” You reply to him, pulling yourself completely away so that you could undo your shoes. Once your shoes are off, you recline the seat a bit and strategize on how exactly you were going to get back there. “Now I’m gonna crawl back there. I don’t want you to be a little perv and look up my skirt while I do it.” You tease, wagging your finger in his direction with a “serious” look on your face before moving to crawl into the back seat. Even though you told him not to sneak a look at the treats underneath your skirt, Harry couldn’t help himself. Even though it was a short time frame, he still got to get a little peak at the situation going on under your dress. He thoroughly enjoyed the sight and hoped that he would be able to venture out and explore down there a bit more.

Once you’re back there and your seat is up, it’s Harry’s turn to make his way back there to join you. He follows suit with what you did and takes his shoes off before reclining and eventually crawling back there with you. Since he’s significantly taller than you, his journey to the backseat wasn’t as graceful as yours but he got the job done and was right beside you in the pretty spacious backseat. Once the two of you were comfortable back there, you and Harry pick up right where you two left off in the front seat. The two of you waste no time bringing your lips back to each others. For the next ten or fifteen minuets, neither of you bother to even try your hands at coming up for air. The both of your are completely engrossed in each other. Neither you or Harry wanted to stop sponging the soft and wet kisses to each others mouths. The way your tongues glided against one another was purely euphoric to you and Harry.

Who knew that such a simple act like kissing had the power to evoke such feelings out of someone? Or maybe it was just the simple fact that you and Harry were addicted to each other.

“Do you have another stick of gum? I feel a a little bad for making out with you right after dinner. Don’t wanna give you the dinner and wine breath.” You pant at him after abruptly pulling away.

“Yeah, I have some gum.” Harry chuckles at your statement, completely amazed at how one person could be as adorable as you are.

“Thanks!” You reply happily, moving back to give him some room to move around.

But Harry seemed to have other plans; or at least the little voice in his head did.

Without even thinking, Harry removes one of his hands from your waist and brings it up to your face. He then softly cups your jaw, forcing your mouth open. Before you could question him, his mouth is on yours and you could feel his tongue agains yours as he pushes the gum into your mouth. When he does this, your head immediately begins to spin. When he does this, you immediately wonder if he’s a mind reader. How would he know that you liked it when your partner spit into your mouth or did something like that?! You were throughly amazed and thoroughly turned on. He then lets go of your jaw and pulls away from your mouth. You were still in complete shock, trying to wrap your head around it all, and Harry was trying to figure out whether or not he grossed you out and scared you off.

“Thanks for the gum.” You shakily whisper to him. Now that you’re looking at him and thinking back to what he did, you’re immediately overcome with the strong desire to just jump his bones. So thats what you do. With the position you and Harry were in, you two sitting next to each other with your bodies turned in one another direction, you didn’t have to think much on how you were going to be closer to him. So without leaving much time in between now and the gum swap, you reach out to pull him back to you by his neck and you fall back onto the seat behind you. Your lips are frantically moving against Harry’s as his body falls on top of yours. At this point, you could’ve cared less about the dinner and wine breath if it meant that it would still give you the opportunity to have this man on you.

You didn’t even have to tell him that you were into what he did. Simply from the way you looked at him before you pulled him on top of you was enough for him. He was so glad you liked what he did because he couldn’t get the vivid images of him using his mouth to do the filthiest things to you. That includes spitting into your mouth. And now being on top of you and between your legs, those thoughts only intensified. As the kiss continued, you and Harry both were getting turned on beyond belief. After a while, your legs wrapped around his lower back, pulling him down closer to you; all of you. You could feel his growing bulge pressing up against your panties and you weren’t mad at it in the slightest. You had an idea of how big he was, which according to his mannerisms and how he moved around, you’d say pretty big. But feeling him against you was a completely different story. You were starting to think that you were underestimating his size.

As the use of tongue grew, your moans and movements against each other grew as well. It went from soft licks into each others mouths, light gasps and moans, and light, sporadic ruts against each other, to full on deep kisses with a very healthy amount of tongue, louder and deeper moans, and full on dry humping against each other. It was pretty spectacular too. The fireworks were going off in your minds and the both of you wanted to keep this momentum you had going. Then again, for the third time of the night, you pull away from Harry. You cup his cheeks and softly push his head up from yours.

“The little voice in my head is screaming at me to suck you off right now.” You bluntly whisper up to him. When you say this, his cock immediately jumps for joy in his pants. If there was one feeling that Harry was dying to feel, it’d be the feeling of your warm and wet mouth, along with your pillow soft lips, and your smaller, warm, and incredibly soft hands around his cock.

“I like to listen to that little voice sometimes.” Harry says shakily. To Harry, you were like a mystical creature. Completely unreal, unbelievable, and perfect.

“I think that me listening to the little voice involves you being on your back.” You whisper to him softly, lowering your hands down from his face and to his shoulders and unwrapping your legs from him.

“I think so too.” Harry whispers smugly before lifting himself up off of you. After moving from on top of your body and giving you some room to move around a little, Harry ends up lying on the seat with his legs spread for you to be in between them. Before you get in to playing with his cock, you move so that you’re hovering over Harry. You then bring your mouth down to his, pushing your tongue past his parted lips. You then push the gum he once gave to you, back into his mouth before pulling away completely.

“I need you to hold onto that for a little while.” You whisper to him before moving down his body and between his legs. At this rate, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that he was going to cum after a couple minuets of having your mouth on him. He just knew it.

When your mind processes that you’re between his legs, a little bit of nervousness washes over you. You were a little nervous to see his cock and just how big he was. “Just take your time baby.” Harry reassures you, reaching down to stroke your cheek to ease the nervousness he was picking up on. You give him a small smile in return to say thank you, take a deep breath, and you then reach up to undo his pants.

As you undo his pants and everything, Harry was bursting with excitement. He was beyond ready and excited to feel you on him. He watches as your hands fumble with his pants as you undo and now pull them down his legs along with his boxers. He lifts his hips a little to help you being them down and pull them off. Once the pants are out of your way, your focus is completely redirected to his cock that was proudly standing up in his lap. You really underestimated this time. He was huge. It was a bit intimidating , but an even bigger turn on. You were pretty curious as to how you’d fit him in your mouth or inside you at all.

You decide to quit staring at his cock, and just take him into your mouth already. You come in closer between his legs and you reach out to wrap your hand around him. Your hand barely fit around his entire girth. You were definitely in for something you’d never experienced before. When your hand touches him for the first time, Harry couldn’t stop himself from jumping and gasping at the feeling. It was like your hand was made to be wrapped around his cock.

“M’sorry, your hand just feels really nice ‘round me.” Harry pants, trying to calm himself down.

Seeing his reaction to you was a definite and major confidence booster. You were confident that you would be able to pleasure him and really make him feel good. You give him a couple tugs and you bring your head down closer to his cock. You then part your lips and you take the thick crown of him into your mouth. It felt nice. It felt really good to have his warm and big cock in your mouth. As you begin to suckle on the sensitive and thick crown of him, swirling your tongue around and pressing it into his slit, you squeeze and move your hand up and down his shaft. Even though you hadn’t taken him fully yet, Harry was feeling really good. He was dying to feel more of your mouth on him.

You don’t focus on the head of him for too long because you want to feel just how full your mouth can be with his cock. So you push your head down a little bit more, taking more of his length into your mouth. When you do this you get a better idea of just how big he was. But this didn’t stop you. You continue to take more and more of him until you feel him getting closer and closer to the back of your throat. Instead of stopping, you continue on all the way down until you gag around him and the tip of your nose is touching the hairs surrounding his cock.

“Oh my- Y/n!” Harry gasps loudly. When he looks down he couldn’t believe his eyes. You have a hand squeezing his thigh as you take every last inch of his cock down your throat. After managing to hold him there for a few more seconds, you pull your mouth off of him. While you’re struggling a little to catch your breath, you don’t stop what you’re doing to his cock. You continue to tug at his now soaking wet shaft and you even test the waters of playing with his balls a little. Most of the guys you’d been with weren’t immediately receptive of this, so you were pleasantly when Harry’s moans got even louder and his hips even lifted up into your hands at the feeling.

“Feel good?” You ask him, keeping your focus on his cock.

“I usually last a lot longer, but you just feel so good.” Harry whispers timidly through a whimper.

“Just call me magic mouthed Y/n.” You hum jokingly before bringing your mouth back down onto him.

“Absolutely-“ He wanted to say absolutely not, but the way your mouth was moving against him right now definitely warranted that nickname. The way you were sloppily yet expertly touching him was extraordinary to Harry. Your mouth was perfectly warm and wet and just amazing. What you do next though sends Harry through the roof and right over the edge. You pull your mouth off of his shaft and you push his cock up towards his stomach. You then lick around his balls and you even suck them both (one at a time of course…they were pretty big too) into your mouth. Once you’ve paid some attention to his balls, you lay your tongue flat against the underside of him and you lick all the way up to his head. You bring your eyes up to lock with his and you wrap your lips back around his now beyond sensitive and leaky head. Keeping your hand on his shaft, you bring your free hand down to his balls and you give his cock in it’s entirety a squeeze. By using your mouth and both of your hands, you milk his cum right of his cock and into your mouth. “Fuck Y/n!” Harry shouts as he lets go. The tight and burning release that was bubbling in the pit of his stomach finally overtook him. He couldn’t hold it anymore, you were too good.

As he came, you kept your mouth on him. You wanted to taste his cum in your mouth. You weren’t typically a swallower, but you felt like Harry’s cum would taste better than the rest (even though you hadn’t tasted many). And you were right. It wasn’t completely horrible.

Once he was all done, you swallow the pretty large load he left in your mouth and you use your tongue to clean up any remnants of the thick substance that didn’t make it into your mouth. You then press a small kiss to the head of his now limp (but still pretty big) cock and you begin to get him redressed. You could see that you really sucked the life out of him with that release so you do your best to get his clothes back on without asking him to do much. After getting his boxers on you move on to his pants but he quickly stops you.

“Don’t worry about those, just wanna cuddle.” Harry slurs. That was what you two were supposed to be doing after all. You drop his pants and you press one final kiss to his cock through his boxers and you lift yourself up from where you were between his legs to his upper body and you lay yourself down against him. “Thank you so much. That was the best I’ve ever had.” Harry mumbles, still completely out of it.

“I’m glad I was able to make you feel good.” You hum proudly, lifting your head to press a small kiss to his chin. “Since were a bit closer to your house, can we go there instead of all the way to my place?” You ask softly. “Don’t wanna get trapped in the rain again.” You continue, trying to make a plausible or moderately decent reason for your request. Even after two make out sessions and a blowie, the rain still hadn’t let up much.

“Maybe getting stuck in the rain isn’t so bad after all .” Harry whispers optimistically.

“Maybe you’re right.” You whisper.

Masterlist

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #my harry writing #concepts of h #harrywritingsbyme

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duuhrayliegh · 4 years ago

Text

Fuck Misogyny

request: Bucky uses his newly gained knowledge of feminism to squash misogynistic interview questions. @ptrs-prkrs

warnings: language, creepy men, feminist!bucky

a/n: hey babes!! i hope this lived up to what you wanted! i couldn’t find the exact video you were referencing but i know what you’re talking about, so i drew inspiration from a few others.

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

full m.list

The set up was simple. A long row of fold out tables covered in black fabric, microphones in front of each seat. Black papers were taped to the backs of the microphones with each team member's name. Bucky had told Evie that he wasn’t going to be able to work out with her today because of this so it better be worth it. The PR manager for the team, Amanda, had set everything up. Hired the mediator, notified the press, everything. Ever since they announced that they were going to be hosting an Avenger’s Q&A Panel, the internet quite literally broke.

Of course Bucky had been doing lives on TikTok with the group of five for the past couple of weeks now, so he was becoming quite comfortable in this format. He’s become increasingly active on his social media accounts, gaining more and more followers everyday. Granted, there were still haters, as Freddie called them, but Bucky ignored them for the most part.

Bucky was actually excited for this press meeting. He was finally gaining traction in the media and he knew how to correctly answer their questions. As Amanda had explained, there was going to be several questions from the mediator, tons from the press that they had invited, and then some fan questions as well. They apparently were going to be live streaming the conference on YouTube allowing them to read the comments and questions as it went on.

“Okay, everyone. You have two minutes until we start.” The team was in an empty board room in the Hilton hotel. Tony didn’t want everyone on the compound’s grass because he just had it fixed. Bucky scanned his fellow teammates. It was impossible for everyone to dress for the same event. Steve was wearing a shirt that was almost bursting at the seams with a pair of jeans and sneakers.

Tony was wearing a lovely Tom Ford, three piece, two-button, of course. Natasha and Wanda were wearing ripped jeans and casual tops. Vision was wearing a sweater vest and slacks, Bruce was clad in slacks as well a jacket covering his shoulders. Sam was wearing a button-up shirt and pressed jeans and he couldn’t find Clint anywhere, probably hiding in the rafters again.

Bucky had his iconic leather jacket donning his shoulders, a pair of slightly ripped jeans. His outfit was picked out by Cassie and Penny. “You need to look like you care but like you don’t at the same time.” Is what they said, the phrase made Bucky shake his head. His hair had finally started growing back and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it.

He had gotten help from Evie before he left Cassie’s apartment. She had pulled back the top half, braiding back two sections into the bun at the back of his head. There were pieces dangling in front of his eyes, “to accentuate the facial features, trust me they’ll love it.” Was Evie’s explanation as they pushed him out of the apartment, so he wouldn’t be late.

“Alright guys! They’re calling your names!” The team filed out of the board room and into a large ballroom. Bottles of water were placed beside each placemat. Tony went out first, followed by Steve, then Bruce, Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Vision, Sam and ending with Bucky. They all settled into their seats, Bucky peeled his jacket off himself, placing it on the back of his chair. His black short sleeved shirt highlighted the gold inlays of his vibranium arm.

“Oh, I see we’re showing some muscle today huh, Buck?” Sam teased as Bucky took his seat next to him. Bucky groaned in realization, covering his microphone so it didn’t pick up what he planned to say.

“Good God, is this what it’s going to be like the entire panel? You just bugging the shit outta me?” They shared a laugh making the rest of the members look at the pair. The audience clapped as they were introduced and continued clapping as they assembled before them.

“Thank you. We would like to welcome everyone to the first, of hopefully many, Avenger’s Q&A Panel.” The female mediator, Stacey, read the assigned lines off the sheet on her podium. “We are going to start with questions we curated for the team and then open it up to the members of the press. After that we will turn to our live stream and answer some viewer questions.” The press rustled in their seats, pulling out pens and journals as well as their phones to record. “Okay, starting off with a question directed at the Avengers in general. How are you feeling about coming before the media in this type of format?” Glances were exchanged between the members, not sure on who was going to start.

“I feel that this is a great way for the general public to learn a little bit more about each individual team member.” Vision was the first to respond and Steve added on.

“Yeah, I definitely think that there’s a common misconception that we don’t want to engage with the media or the general public. We do, unfortunately due to the amount of research and training that we are doing behind the scenes, it just goes to the back of our minds.”

“Right. So Tony and Bruce, we all know that you two are geniuses. What are your feelings on expanding the teachings of STEM courses to not only high school, but as far back as elementary school or even kindergarten?” The pair thought about the question before answering.

“Well, I definitely think that offering STEM-based classes at a younger age would be beneficial, especially if we were to allow the kids to continue to switch what they want to focus on.” Bruce started. “It’s incredibly anxiety-inducing for teenagers to have to decide what they’re going to do with their life right before they are thrust into an unforgiving world.”

“Yeah, I’ll never understand why we do that to our future leaders, it’s honestly baffling. Why do American schools wait until high school to require our children to learn foriegn languages, they aren’t going to retain that information. The same applies for such comprehensive courses like STEM-based ones. If you wait until their brains are already developed so far, then they’ve already decided what they think is interesting and if they don’t find those courses interesting then they aren’t going to pay attention.” Tony finished Bruce's thought before nodding to each other smugly, obviously proud of themselves for answering the question so well.

“Interesting that you see it that way. This last one goes out to everyone and then we’ll open it up to the reporters. How do you deal with the stress and anxiety that comes with being an Avenger? Do you feel a certain amount of pressure to always do the right thing?” Stacey shuffled her papers, tapping them twice on the podium.

“We all have our own routines and ways that we decompress after missions so that really just depends on the person. Like I think that Bruce listens to opera music, and Wanda mediatates, Tony tinkers. It depends on the person.” Natasha answered concisely, making Bucky nod his head. He could recall all of those things to be true.

“Oh definitely, and it doesn’t hurt that we have a former VA Trauma Counselor on board to help us work through the harder stuff.” Steve added a gesture of his head to Sam.

“Speaking of that Sam, just a quick question before we open it up. How difficult was it for you to transition from regular Air Force missions to Avenger level missions?” Sam made a face at Stacey before answering.

“Um, I mean, it’s not that different. You’re always fighting one of the Big Three-- aliens, androids, or wizards, no matter what department you’re working with. The only transition I had to deal with was the Tony Stark-erized suits. Now that I think of it, Tony, can we make it tighter?” Sam quipped making the room laugh with ease.

“Alright, well now we’re going to open it up to the reporters. Starting with this gentleman in the front and then if we could also give a microphone to someone on that side of the room. Okay, thank you.” The first reporter stood up, holding the microphone in one hand and his phone in the other.

“Hello. John from Huffington Post. The Avengers inspire almost everyone around the world, so we would like to know who inspires you? Who do you look up to in terms of your idols?” He sat back down as the team contemplated their answers.

“Gandhi.” Bruce said, Tony snapped his fingers and pointed at him then added. “Pepper, she’s so amazing.” Steve looked down to Bucky, who shrugged.

“I would probably have to say that my sister, Sarah, inspires me. She raised her two sons, Cas and AJ, by herself after the Blip and was able to keep the family business going.” Sam’s answer made Bucky smile. Sam had brought him to their house in Delacroix, he remembered waking up to Cas and AJ playing in the kitchen, happy giggles filtering through reminding him of his time in Wakanda. By the time that Bucky had refocused on the conversation they had moved on without his answer. Several different questions went by, all directed to the team at large, until Chad.

“Hi, I’m Chad for the Daily Mail. My question is for Wanda and Natasha.” The pair of women perked up, excited to have a specific question. “Do you find that your equipment hinders you in doing your job as well as your male counterparts?” Stunned expressions settled over the womens faces, then annoyance. Bucky’s brows shot up to his hairline, appalled that someone had the balls to ask that. Wanda and Natasha handled the question with grace and much more restraint than Bucky would have.

“Well for me, I am able to move things with my mind so I can throw things randomly at people even if I’m not in the room. I’ve been very fortunate to work with Natasha who has Widow training, so my hand to hand combat is improving immensely. And being able to work with Princess Shuri in Wakanda to learn how to fully control my powers. It’s an ever evolving process that I’m always excited to take on.” Bucky nodded and turned his attention to Natasha.

“My favorite thing is training with either Steve or Bucky because they push me to do my best. We all have our specialties here and it’s nice to learn new skills or improve old ones with people who support you.” Natasha sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, throwing daggers with her eyes at Chad in the audience, waiting for him to say something else. Chad stood again, yelling so he could be heard over the crowd’s commotion.

“That’s great, ladies, but forgive me, you didn’t answer the question I asked.” Bucky pushed forward in his seat, leaning into his microphone.

“I’m sorry, I think I misunderstood what you asked them then. I would like for you to clarify what you mean by equipment.” Chad balked, not expecting a male’s voice to respond.

“You know what’s implied by equipment, sir.” Bucky’s jaw clenched at the man.

“Did you just ask two of the most capable women that I’ve ever known, if their equipment, which I’m assuming you’re referring their breasts, made it to where they couldn’t do their job as good as the rest of their male counterparts. Just to be clear, that’s what you’re asking?” Chad stuttered as he answered yes.

“Right, well first off that’s disgusting. Just a bit of background for you, Wanda is the strongest Avenger here, plain and simple. As for Natasha, she’s the smartest woman I’ve ever met and she can take down every single male here.” Bucky took a breath before continuing. “So, what I think you really want to know is how they encourage their teammates to keep up with them.” He dropped his head to look at the two women down the line.

“Don’t worry Chad, I’ll ask them the right question, since you can’t quite seem to understand how to respect women.” The team was holding back snickers at Chad’s reaction. “Wanda, Natasha. Chad wants to know how the hell you push your male teammates to be just as good as you are. What are your strategies to keep us on our toes while training?” Claps sounded from the women press members and Bucky awaited the pair's response. The next press member stood and asked a question.

“Hi, I’m Chloe from Vanity Fair. This question goes to everyone on the panel.” Bucky settled in for another question that didn’t matter. “How do you continue to be aware of things happening in our society today? Do you keep up-to-date through new channels, or social media?” The answers were rather generic from the team, all of them rather uncomfortable from the tension that Bucky and Chad had created. Stacey interrupted after Chloe’s question.

“Okay, we’re going to open it up to viewer questions from our live stream.” An iPad was placed on the podium in front of Stacey and her eyebrows rose. “Okay, there’s quite a variety here. Here’s one for Steve and Bucky.” Bucky perked up, nervous to answer because his adrenaline had worn off.

“One viewer asks, ‘Steve and Bucky, being from the 40’s, women were treated like second thoughts and were talked about like objects. Now, you’re in the 21st century, not much has changed. What have you been doing to support feminist causes?’”

“I just want to say that everyone should be answering this. It’s true that during the 40’s women were not treated the right way, and they still aren’t today. An 18 year old can’t walk down the street at nine o’clock at night without being catcalled. I am a proud feminist, as everyone should be. I think that as a team we are doing pretty well in that department. As far as what I’m doing to support feminist causes, I’m doing as much as I can. I actually recently enrolled in online classes to expand my knowledge on many subjects, seeing as how I am from the 40’s and all.” The crowd laughed along with Bucky.

“Almost all of my classes have to do with either psychology or gender studies, it’s a fascinatingly haunting subject. One book that I’m reading right now was suggested to me by my friend Cassie, it’s called Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women that a Movement Forgot. The author doesn’t let up and I’m only halfway through it. Look, I’m still educating myself, but I’m a strong believer in doing what is right for everyone, so I’m trying. Thankfully I have a few people keeping me in check as far as my actions.” Bucky thought his response was well thought out for being an on the fly question. He was new to the concept of feminism but that didn’t change the fact that it made total sense.

“I’m with Bucky on this. The 40’s were a rough time. I remember the first time I met Peggy Carter, I was astonished that a woman could be in such a powerful position. One of the first things she did after I met her was punch out someone who made a sexual comment to her. I’ve been supporting feminist causes ever since working with Peggy.” Steve added, a sad smile spreading on his face reminiscing Peggy.

“This one says, ‘As a total fan of all of you, I love seeing what you post on your social media accounts. When are the rest of the Avengers going to follow Bucky’s lead and download TikTok?’” Bucky’s head flew back into a full body laugh. Tony shifted forward in his seat, pointing his finger at the laughing man down the table.

“I would just like to say he didn’t get that approved before doing it. However, it did go over really well, so we’ll consider it.” Wanda’s mouth rolled inwards, stifling her laughter.

“We’ll consider it, you’re such an old man. Most of us have TikTok already, we just don’t make content on it like Barnes over here.” Sam said, tossing his head in Bucky’s direction.

“I’ve got like three videos on there!” Bucky and Sam began bantering back and forth.

“Yeah and one of them is dancing to a Cardi B song! Who even showed you that? I thought you only like 40’s music?” Bucky made a face at the man.

“Uh, just because I didn’t like your suggestions for music doesn’t mean I don’t have taste. My Spotify playlist is filling out quite nicely, Wilson.” Bucky and Sam didn’t quit fighting from then on, just little jabs at each other under the table.

“Here’s a good one,” Stacey had a smile on her face, “Are you allies of the LGBTQ+ community?” Bucky responded quickly with no hesitation.

“Yes, many of my friends are members of the Alphabet Mafia. Why wouldn’t we be?” Wanda nodded at his question, laughing at his use of the phrase Alphabet Mafia.

“Yeah, absolutely. I mean, I’m dating a fucking android, I’d be pretty hypocrictal if I wasn’t an ally. Nat, Clint what about you?” Clint bobbed his head in response.

“Oh yeah. We all are, even the Star Spangled Man with a Plan.” Steve’s shoulders shook with laughter at Clint’s nickname for him. The team broke out into laughter, joining Steve. Stacey cleared her throat, commanding the attention of the room again.

“Alright, everybody! That’s it for today.” She glanced down at her papers. “We would like to thank everyone for coming out today and joining the Avengers Q&A Panel. At this time we are unaware, if we will be conducting another one of these, but the odds look good based on the response.” The team filed out of the ballroom and into the empty boardroom. Bucky was the last to get into the room and he was approached by Natasha and Wanda immediately. Wanda wrapped her arms around him in a bear hug.

“That was so sick, Bucky!” She stepped back and Natasha offered him a side hug as well. “Where’d you learn all that? And since when are you taking online classes?”

“That guy was being an asshole, he needed to be put in his place. I hope you guys didn’t feel like I overstepped or anything.” Bucky hung his arm over Wanda’s shoulder, leaning his weight on her. “And I started about two months ago. They’re going really well, I’m learning a lot and enjoying it surprisingly. It’s a good thing to do in my free time since I’m not always on missions.”

“I’m proud of you James, that was impressive.” Natasha complimented him, she wasn’t usually a woman of many words so that was a lot. Bucky smiled at her, nodding his head. His phone began buzzing in his back pocket, so he excused himself from their conversation. His screen displayed one of Evie’s senior pictures, signalling that she was calling him. He pushed the green button and brought the phone to his ear to answer her call.

“Hello?” She ignored his greeting with a squeal.

“Check your Twitter! Bucky, you’re trending! Here I’m putting you on speaker, we’re all here Buck!” Shuffling noises were heard through the speaker as Evie began reading the tweets to Bucky. Laughs from Cassie, Freddie and Penny could be heard behind Evie’s voice.

“Oh my gosh Eve! Just let the man get back to what he was doing!” Freddie yelled at an excited Evie, who retaliated with a scoff.

“Okay, okay! Just remember we have a movie night tomorrow! It’s Penny’s turn to pick so we don’t know what to expect.” Evie mumbled the last part into her phone speaker. Bucky heard the impact of a pillow hit Evie, causing her to grunt in pain. “Okay! We’ll talk to you later, Buck! See you soon!” She hung up the phone before he could get a word in edgewise. Bucky shook his head as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Amanda approached Bucky asking to speak with him privately.

“So we’re getting a flood of interview requests from networks and papers. We would like to start running with this. We’ll have to go over everything with our PR guy, Ryan, but it should work out. As long as you’re comfortable with all of this.” Bucky smiled and nodded, following after Amanda as she continued explaining what would happen going forward.

He was nervous, of course, but he could tell these nerves were coming from a place of excitement instead of fear, which was a new sensation for the man. It wasn’t unwelcome, it was the same as when he first started hanging out with Cassie, Penny, Freddie and Evie. It was the same when he went on his first mission with the team. Bucky was ready to tackle this next adventure, whatever it would entail.

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