Bucky ends up as the leader of the squad, mostly because he was a congressman, and everyone just assumes that makes him qualified.
No one else actually wants to lead. Ava ghosts meetings (literally), John keeps suggesting push-up contests as conflict resolution, Alexei wants to be the mascot, Yelena cannot control the herd, and Bob just wants everyone to like him. So Buckyâs stuck with the job like a dad who didnât mean to adopt five adult children.
Bucky pretends he hates the leadership role, but deep down he likes having purpose again. It's definitely a better purpose than his weird pretending-to-like-working-in-Capitol-Hill phase.Â
The team starts buying Bucky mugs. Each one has some weird phrase like â#1 Cat Momâ or âWorldâs Okayest Boss.â One says âDonât talk to me until Iâve punched a Nazi.â He drinks out of that one the most.
Bucky keeps a running list of everyoneâs trauma triggers, dietary needs, and weird habits in a leather notebook he hides under his bed. He updates it meticulously.Â
Bucky goes searching for Steveâs old room, not really knowing why. He finds it eventually by following faint pencil sketches along the baseboardsâfigures, landscapes, messy little self-portraits. No one ever talks about how good of an artist Steve was.
Bucky has a habit of cleaning and maintaining everyoneâs weapons. No one asked him to. Itâs just something he does. âKeeps my hands busy,â he says. Johnâs Taco shield has never looked shinier.
Bucky trains Bob in hand-to-hand combat because relying on the Sentry is a dangerous crutch, especially with the Void. âYou gotta learn to throw a punch without leveling the city,â Bucky says.Â
Bob asks for a gun. Bucky laughs until he realises Bobâs serious. âOkay⌠maybe a little gun.â
Bobâs sobriety is the center of his life. He counts days in his journal and scribbles tally marks.Â
Bob goes to meetings anonymously. Sometimes online. Most times, he doesnât say a word, just listens.
Bob asks for permission constantly. âCan I sit here?â âCan I help?â âDo you mind if I talk?â Itâs not insecurityâitâs fear of taking up space, even though no one thinks so.
Bob sleeps with the lights on.
Bob has a habit of sitting outside peopleâs doors when theyâre having a hard time. He doesnât knock or say anything. He just lets them know heâs there.
Once, he sits outside Avaâs door even though the two were not that close to begin with. He said he wanted to make more connections.Â
Valentina definitely tries to monetize the lower floors of Avengers Tower. She installs cheesy tourist attractions and even vending machines. Ava keeps stealing from said vending machines. Instead of going to the store, she just phases through the fridge door and snatches a Coke. âWhy pay two bucks when I can just become intangible?â
Ava hoards those soda cans like a dragon. She has coke bottles hidden in the walls. Mini fridges stashed in ventilation shafts.
Ava keeps little things. Trinkets from missions, receipts from stores. A cinema stub when the team all went to see a movie together. It all goes into a shoebox labeled âProof I Exist.â
Ava has mild motion sickness. Phasing feels fineâbut when they get the jet, it was instant nausea. Yelena now carries ginger chews and hands them over.
Ava also disappears into the vents. Not intentionally at firstâshe phases away from one of John and Alexeiâs overly intense arguments about European football vs American football and ends up inside the duct system. But then she discovers she likes it.Â
In one of the vents, Ava finds a hidden alcove. Itâs a makeshift hangout spot where Clint and Nat used to go. She finds old books, photos, arrowheads, and one of Natâs worn leather bracelets. Itâs all dust and forgotten. Ava collects it and brings it to Yelena and Alexei.
Yelena wears the leather bracelet now. Alexei frames one of her old books, insisting itâs âSoviet literature.â Itâs Crime and Punishment.
Yelena keeps photos of Nat in weird places. Inside her wallet, taped to her mirror, tucked into her knife case.
Yelena drinks pickle juice straight from the jar, eats hot sauce with a spoon, and once tried to convince Ava that mayonnaise was a âtraditional Russian face mask.â
Yelena always wins at Mario Kart. No one knows how. She plays with one hand and eats chips with the other.
Yelena bakes surprisingly well. It is now one of her healthier coping mechanisms. If there are lemon bars on the counter, someone pissed her off. If there are croissants, sheâs feeling nostalgic.
Yelena absolutely makes fun of John Walker 24/7. Calls him âCaptain America Liteâ or âDiet Steve.â John is mostly unbothered by it now.
John is so competitive. Dodgeball? He will throw a tantrum. Chess? He flips a table if he loses.Â
He takes tower fitness very seriously, insisting on morning drills at 6 AM. Only Bucky shows up. Sometimes. Alexei pretends heâs sick. Yelena flips him off from the rooftop.
John has questionable taste in music. Like Creed, Nickelback, and early 2000s workout playlists. He blares it in the gym. Bucky came in and broke the speaker once. âOops,â he said.
John made a group chat called "Avengers 2: Electric Boogalooâ and got flamed by Yelena and Ava instantly.
John and Alexei have an aggressive friendship. After their first on-field mission together, the two supersoldiers tried chest bumping. They broke a stair railing doing this. Bucky banned them from jumping indoors.
Alexei introduces himself as "Russiaâs Greatest Hero" to literally everyoneâ especially delivery drivers.
Alexei keeps a team scrapbook. Itâs full of blurry photos, Polaroids, and captions written in Russian. Heâs glued bottle caps and mission debris to the pages. Itâs surprisingly sweet.
Alexei and Yelena bicker a lot, mostly because Yelena insists âmy dad is embarrassing me.â She acts annoyed, but when he tells people sheâs âmore dangerous than 20 trained assassins, and very smart.â She pretends not to smile.
Alexei writes letters to âMother Russia.â Like actual, physical letters. He reads them out loud on the roof sometimes.Â
Alexei once saved the entire team on a mission by charging in on Buckyâs motorcycle yelling, âFOR MOTHERLAND!â It was completely off-script, but it worked.Â
Alexei keeps Natâs old locket in his drawer. It has a picture of the two of them from Ohio. He doesnât show it to anyone.Â
In the tower, movie nights are mandatory. John has a spreadsheet. Ava cheats and phases into the media server to override votes.
One time they all cried during Paddington 2. Even Bucky. No one talks about it.
They have a âPanic Button.â Literally a big red button in the common room. Press it, and everyone drops what theyâre doing and comes running. Sometimes itâs a real emergency. Sometimes Bob just wants to show them a weird bird outside the window.
Someone (John) keeps starting a fire in the kitchen. Bob bought a fire extinguisher
They keep finding forgotten things. Steveâs old sketch pads. Bruce Bannerâs old research paper in a drawer. A dusty pair of glasses labeled âJarvis Specs: Do Not Touch.âÂ
The gym still has Thorâs old weights. No one can move them.Â
The elevator still announces âWelcome, Mr. Starkâ when it glitches. Bob once answered âHiâ out of reflex.
They found an old Avengers mug that says âEARTHâS MIGHTIEST INTERN.â Nobody knows who it belonged to. Bucky insists it was Clintâs. John thinks it was Darcyâs.
Nobody really talks about it, but they know they live in the ruins of legends. The Tower still has scorch marks from Ultron and the tesseract remnants from the portal they opened in the Battle of New York.
At night, they all gravitate toward the common room. There's always someone reading or cooking or watching TV. At night, together, they all feel like they belong there.Â
Warnings: SMUT, 18+, mentions of shitty exes, light spanking, almost choking, Joaquin might be a bit OOC
Having a self-driving car had many perks on a regular day but when you had a handsome man who couldn't keep his hands to himself, it had even more advantages.
"Your skin is so soft," Joaquin mumbled against the side of your neck as he let his hand glide underneath your shirt and up your stomach. "So soft."
You didn't even try to answer, instead you concentrated on the feeling of his hand running up and down your body. His warmth, his soft breath ghosting over you skin.Â
You had to hold on to Joaquin's shoulders to hold yourself upright as he began to kiss from your neck down to your chest. Some kisses wet and hungry, others light like a feather, barely even there.
"And you taste so sweet." He moved away the tiniest bit, just enough to look into your eyes.
You couldn't help yourself, you felt the corners of your lips rising up, could practically taste the sarcastic reply on the tip of your tongue, fighting to be let out. Sometimes you had too much of your father in you.
"Less talking, more kissing."
Joaquin shook his head. "I have a better idea."
Within seconds he discarded the jacket he had been wearing, carelessly throwing it on the ground. "Your turn," he grinned.
You looked him up and down for a second, your eyes resting on his naked arms, now visible thanks to the simple grey t-shirt he was wearing. He could probably lift you with ease, hold you in all kinds of positions.
"No," you finally said, looking into his eyes once more. "You want me to undress, you'll have to work for it."
The heat in his eyes alone could have burned the clothes right off your body, it made you shiver in excitement. It's been quite some time since you've hooked up with someone and those kisses and touches already told you that Joaquin would be well worth your while.
"I actually planned on getting to work once your clothes are off," he mumbled against your lips. The moved his head to the side while one of his hands found its way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.
You eagerly responded to his advances, your tongue meeting his, exploring his mouth as you ran your hands through his soft hair. Only when cool air hit your back did you realise that he had played you. Before you could protest, Joaquin lifted your shirt all the way over your head, a victorious grin on his face.
"Hey," you laughed. "I said you needed to work to get me undressed, not to trick me."
But Joaquin didn't reply, his whole entire focus was on the skin that was now bared to his gaze. You would have felt self-conscious, were it not for the desire visible in his eyes.
"Dios mio, you're beautiful," he spoke more to himself than to you, almost lost in his own world. Somehow, that made him even more appealing. He wasn't saying these things to get you under his spell, he really meant them.
"You're allowed to touch, you know." The words were barely a whisper, you didn't dare disturb the charged atmosphere around you.
Joaquin lifted his gaze again, looked you in the eyes. "I'm gonna do much more than just touch."
It only took him mere moments to live up to that promise. Joaquin began to press heated kisses to your neck, working his way down to your chest. The slight stubble on his chin scratched against your sensitive skin, making you wonder what it would feel like on other places. The thoughts were soon gone from your mind, replaced with nothing but pleasure as he ran a thumb over your nipple. Already turned on from everything else he had done, it instantly began to harden, making the lace fabric of your bra rubbing against it in an uncomfortable way.
"You're so responsive," Joaquin said, open astonishment in his voice. He ran his thumb over your other nipple, which reacted in the same way. He looked at your through his lashes. "It's hot."
Those two words sent new waves of pleasure through you. He wasn't wrong, you were very responsive to each and every one of his actions, something that usually didn't happen as quickly. But there was just something about JoaquinâŚ
Before you had the chance to tell Joaquin that it was his turn to shed another piece of clothing, the car announced your arrival at the hotel.
"Shit," you said. "I can't go in like this, where did you put my shirt?"
Joaquin shook his head. "Take my jacket instead." And before you could say anything else, he placed the jacket around your shoulders, helping to get your arms into the sleeves. He even zipped it up for you, covering every inch of bare skin.
"Thanks," you said, a smile on your face.
You pressed the button to open the door, letting Joaquin get out first. You wanted a moment to reflect on what had just happened, on what you were about to do, but the warmth of Joaquin's jacket and the way it smelled just like him was a little too distracting.
Joaquin stuck his head into the car once more, a teasing smile on his face. "You coming?"
You nodded and hurried out of the car, leaving it to drive itself to the garage as the two of you headed up the stairs to your grand hotel.
"I don't think I've ever been in a hotel this fancy," Joaquin told you in the elevator.
"Oh yeah?" You stepped closer to him. "I practically grew up in fancy hotels like this one." You took another step, your chest now almost brushing his. You looked up at Joaquin, watching every minuscule motion on his face. He was breathing faster than usual, his eyes were entirely focused on you. "But I've never been fucked in one."
He let out a breath, his somewhat minty breath hitting your face. "Wow⌠ThatâŚ" He took another deep breath. "You can't say stuff like that in public and not expect me to react."
You put your hand on his chest. Maybe it was all in your head, but you could have sworn you felt his heartbeat through his clothes.
"Maybe I want you to react," you almost purred as Joaquin lowered his face, his lips now inches from yours. His hands moved to your neck, drawing you even closer.
"You're gonna get me in trouble, little Miss Stark, aren't you?"
You wanted nothing more than to get him into trouble. Ideas of texting him suggestive things while he was in a meeting sprung to your mind, of leaving him little notes in his office where anyone could find them if he wasn't careful.
"I wouldn't dream of it," you whispered against his lips, the sound of your voice barely audible over the ding of the elevator, which announced your arrival at your suite.
"C'mon, Mr Falcon," you said as you moved to take his hand, pulling him after you into the room. From your private hallway it was only a short way to the bedroom.
You unzipped the jacket, letting it fall to the ground before you even reached the bedroom. Joaquin looked at you from the corner of his eye. "Someone's eager."
You just shrugged. "I have big plans for tonight."
He visibly swallowed before following suit, pulling his shirt over his head. By now, the two of you had reached the bedroom and you let yourself fall down on the bed, looking at a panting, shirtless Joaquin standing in front of you. You let your eyes roam every muscle, every inch of skin all the way down to the v-shape leading into his trousers.
"You're allowed to touch, you know," Joaquin told you, repeating the words you had said to him earlier that night.
You let out a small laugh. "Come over here then and I'll do much more than touch."
He didn't need to be told twice, within seconds he found himself seated next to you on the bed. Both of you now shirtless, both of you yearning for touches, licks, kisses.
You moved your hand, which was placed on the bed, just an inch until the tips of your fingers touched Joaquin's. From there you slowly made your way up his arm, feeling how his hairs began to stand up from your soft, teasing touch. You fought the smile threatening to appear on your lips. Only once you reached his shoulders did Joaquin begin to move. He turned to face you, the tiniest hint of a blush visible on his face.
"What are you doing, hermosa?"
You shrugged. "What you told me to do, I'm touching you."
He moved his gaze to look at your hand now on his chest, right against his pounding heart. "That's not what I meant, you know that."
You stopped your hand from creeping forward. "Oh? Did you have something else in mind?"
And before he had the chance to reply, you quickly placed your hand on the bulge in his trousers.
Joaquin let out an almost pained groan. You applied the slightest hint of pressure, feeling the hardness, his girth. The thought of having him inside you made you clench your thighs together, a movement that didn't go unnoticed.
Joaquin looked at you. "How do you wanna do this?" There was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, barely there. It was cute, the way he was so eager to please, something that fit neither his leadership position in the army nor his new role as Falcon. Joaquin was more three dimensional than you had given him credit for; he was cute, sure, but also kind. Clever, from everything Sam had told you, and oh so gentle with you. Only the slight twitch of his fingers betrayed the fact that he wanted nothing more than to take action.
"I'll follow your lead," you said while running a single sharp fingernail over his bulge.
Joaquin nodded, the movement slow, calculated. It might have been a genius move concocted by him because when put his hands on your waist and threw you onto the bed a second later it took you by surprise.
Before you knew it, you found yourself laying flat on your back with Joaquin hovering above you, holding himself up with his strong arms, which were caging you in.
"You're so pretty." He said. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It didn't quite fit the heat in his eyes but that juxtaposition only turned you on even more. This was a man who could be gentle in such a situation, something you weren't used to. "Your lips," he said before pressing another kiss to them. "Are so sweet." He pressed another soft kiss to each of your brows. "I could get lost in your eyes." Another kiss, this one slightly wetter, a bit more eager, to your jawline. "I can't believe how lucky I am to be here with you."
You grinned up at him, running one of your hands up his arm, feeling his strength. "Quit the sweet talking, Joaquin, you're already in my bed."
He laughed. You liked that about him, not many men were able to joke around as part of their foreplay. "And I don't plan on getting out any time soon."
"Oh yeah?" You playfully raised an eyebrow, hoping to coax something more out of him. "You think you'll last that long?"
Instead of giving you an answer, Joaquin moved his hips, grinding his hard dick against you. You couldn't help the moan that came out of your mouth, a sound filled with nothing short of desperation. Fuck, you didn't just want this man, you needed him.
"What was that? I couldn't hear you." He repeated the motion, pressing himself against you even more. His chest was now touching yours, your lace covered nipples brushing against his hot skin.
"Jesus Christ," you whined. It was too much and too little at the same time. You needed to be out of your clothes now, needed him to touch you.
"It's Joaquin, actually," he said, letting one of his hands glide over your shoulder, all the way down to your bra. He began to knead your boob through, gently, as if he had all the time in the world. Joaquin pressed a soft kiss to your nipple before finally, finally freeing your aching tit, pulling the lace fabric down before repeating the action on the other boob.
"Beautiful," he whispered. His eyes entirely focused on your chest, a single finger now running circles around your nipple, making it impossibly hard.
"My eyes are up here, baby," you said, lifting your hand to move Joaquin's head so he was facing you.
He nodded. "Yeah, sorry." A boyish grin found its way to his lips. "Just trying to take it all in."
You moved your hand even further until you had a hold on his hair. You let your fingers run through his hair for a moment before pulling him down. His lips immediately found yours. The kiss was more heated than the ones before, all tongue and teeth. The time for sweet talking was over.
As you tried your best to distract Joaquin with your kiss, the hand that wasn't tangled up in his hair snaked down to his trousers, undoing the button, pulling the zipper down. It was the sound of the zipper that alerted him to what was happening.
"Need help with that?"
But you, nothing if not stubborn, shook your head. You could tell that Joaquin did his best to help you nevertheless, he moved forward ever so slightly as you began to pull his trousers and underwear down.
Despite your protests, Joaquin had to do the last bit, pulling them off of his legs. While he did that, you had the chance to look at him in all his naked glory. He was strong, well build but not too muscular. He clearly worked out, but not to show off, he worked out because he saved lives for a living. Living under the same roof as superheroes for most of your life you would have thought something like that didn't affect you, but seeing Joaquin, knowing he would risk his life for other, it only made him more attractive.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer."
You looked him up and down again, letting a smirk rise to your face only once you met his eyes. "Maybe I will."
That cute blush rose on his cheeks once more. It was simply too easy to rile him up.
While Joaquin was still busy taking his socks off, you hurried to get rid of your trousers, underwear, and socks as well. It only took a few seconds until you were both naked, standing in front of each other next to the bed.
Joaquin was the first to reach out and touch, his hands slowly tracing your boobs, down your sides to your hips. He pulled you closer, close enough for his dick to touch the soft skin of your abdomen. His hands moved further until he had one hand on each of your ass cheeks, gently caressing the flesh.
He leaned down, his forehead coming to rest against yours. "I'm gonna make you feel good, hermosa, I promise."
The sweet words were a stark contrast to the slap he suddenly landed on your ass. You jumped a bit, utterly taken by surprise.
"What was th- fuck!" He spanked you once more, this time on the other cheek. It wasn't hard enough to really hurt you, just a reminder that you had told him to take control.
"Too much?"
You shook your head. It was unexpected, stung a little bit despite the fact that Joaquin now began to rub the sore skin with his thumbs.
"More?"
You nodded. In the back of your mind, an idea took form and you wanted to test it out. Despite his gentle demeanour, Joaquin was still a leader and he was used to being treated like one.
"I need you to talk to me, hermosa." He pinched your cheeks, driving his point home. "Use your words."
You looked up at him through your lashes as you said your next words. "I want more." You stepped impossibly closer, your body now all but pressed against his. "Please."
Joaquin grinned, a smile equal parts teasing and proud. "More what?" He removed one hand from your ass, running it up your body, to the back of your neck.
"More," you said, moving until you could touch his hard dick, which instantly began to pulse as you wrapped your hand around it. "Of you."
Joaquin let out a string of words, spoken too fast for you to even make out what language he was speaking.
Your eyes never left his as you slowly lowered yourself to your knees.
Despite the obvious desire and anticipation in his eyes, Joaquin began to protest. "You don't have to do that."
You took your sweet time replying, instead you closed your hand around his dick, applying more pressure before moving up and down, slowly jerking him.
"I know," you finally said, your lips now mere inches from his tip. "But I want to taste you."
Those were the last words you spoke before you wrapped your lips around him.
Above you, Joaquin let out a string of curses, his hand instantly flying to the back of your head.
You moved your hand and head in tandem, slowing down or speeding up every once in a while. You relished the way Joaquin's entire body tensed when you hollowed your cheeks, the groans that escaped him whenever your tongue met the head.
"Fucking hell! How did you get so good at- you know what, never mind. I don't wanna know," he mumbled.
Despite the tears forming in your eyes, you looked up at him. This sure was a picture to behold, the heiress of Stark Industries on her knees in front of the newest Avenger.
Joaquin smiled down at you, something extremely close to fondness in his gaze. Despite only knowing each other for a couple of hours, you felt a connection with him you didn't feel with some people you had known your entire life.
Though his smile began to fade as you sped up your motions, moving your head ever faster, sucking as if your life depended on it.
Based on the way his thighs shook, it took almost all of Joaquin's strength to move away from you, his dick leaving your mouth with a slight 'pop'.
"Not yet," he said, panting. "I don't want this to be over yet."
The grin you sent him was probably anything but seductive, with makeup, tears, and a hint of pre-cum running down your face, but you didn't care.
"Can't Falcon last more than one round?"
Joaquin stepped closer again, running a hand from your hair down your face until he could lift your head up even further. His hand didn't stop there, continuing until he had it wrapped around your throat. He didn't apply any pressure, but it was still there.
"Careful, pequeĂąa."
It didn't take more than those two words for you to shut up, which you would never admit out loud was mostly due to the fact that you weren't sure your voice would work. Not with the low growl in his voice, the way his hand was wrapped around your throat. There was something about giving someone power over you, trusting him enough to know he won't abuse it.
Joaquin let go of you and took a step back, admiring you from afar. You felt wetness gathering between your thighs, threatening to leak out. He needed to touch you, now.
"Tell me what you want me to do."
His words took you by surprise. He had been so in charge just moments earlier and now he wanted you to take over? But a closer look at his stance, at the way he nonchalantly jerked his dick while looking at you told you that Joaquin was still very much in charge.
"I want you to fuck me."
Joaquin nodded. He motioned to the bed, telling you what to do without words.
You were quick to follow his command, laying down on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could still see him.
You expected him to resume his earlier position above you but Joaquin took you by surprise as he instead wrapped his hands around your thighs, pulling you further down on the bed until your legs hung off of it. Despite the surprise, you didn't interrupt him, you simply watched as he parted your legs and moved closer.
"I will," he said, eyes focused on your face before they moved down to your soaking cunt. "But I wanna make you come first."
You barely had time to register his words before he lowered his face. Joaquin blew against your pussy, making you shiver from the sensation, before he licked a single stripe, not yet parting your lips. Yet it was enough to make you moan so loud the neighbours could probably hear you. You both hated and loved how much of a tease he was.
Just as you were about to ask him to please, please hurry up, he sank his tongue all the way into your heat. The sensation was sudden and it took you a moment to adjust, a moment he wasn't ready to give you because as soon as he entered your pussy, he moved his tongue around, trying his best to find all the spots that made you squirm.
It wasn't just his tongue that was giving you pleasure, as you began to move your hips to meet the thrusts of his tongue, you unconsciously rubbed your clit against his nose. The friction was just what you needed, and Joaquin seemed to sense that you were close to the edge, though judging by the moans that escaped your mouth and the way you pulled him closer to your pussy with the firm grip you had on his curls, it wasn't hard to deduct.
He mumbled something, you had no chance of knowing what it was, the sounds swallowed up by your cunt, but the vibrating sensation was incredible.
Just when you thought you wouldn't be able to handle any more, that you would combust at any second, Joaquin twisted his tongue, meeting a spot deep inside you he hadn't been able to reach before. It made you see stars.
One expert flick of his tongue against that spot, a single touch to your clit, and you were gone. Pleasure overtook you, made you loose control of your movements as you frantically rode his face, prolonging your orgasm.
It seemed like hours and seconds at once and by the time you came back to your senses, Joaquin's head was resting on your thigh, wetness glistening around his mouth as he smiled up at you.
"That was fucking incredible," he said, taking the words right out of your mouth.
You returned his smile, reaching out a hand to run through his hair, trying to thank him without words. "It was. You were."
He pressed a kiss to your thigh before lifting his head and making his way onto the bed until he was laying next to you.
"Me?" He asked as he twisted a strand of your hair around his finger. "I wasn't doing anything, you were the one riding my face as if your life depended on it." He let go of your hair and instead let his hand trail down your body to your waist, using his newfound hold to pull you closer. "That was so hot."
You leaned closer, your forehead almost touching his. You could feel his breath on your face, the way it stopped for just a moment as you closed your hand around his, gently holding it. "I'm a Stark, being hot is in my genes."
Joaquin let out a groan as he fell away from you on the bed. "You did not just bring up your family while we're naked in bed!"
You laughed. Maybe your timing had been a bit off but he was being overdramatic. But of course he began to protest when you told him that.
"Dramatic? Me? Never!"
You rolled your eyes. "Sure thing, you're always totally reasonable."
Joaquin let his hand trail up your thigh, coming to rest just inches away from your pussy, which had just begun to dry up before his touch.
"You're way too cheeky for some completely at my mercy." Though there was a glint of humour in his eyes, his tone was serious.
"Am I at your mercy?"
A single finger dipped inside you, gathering your wetness before it left you again. Joaquin placed the finger on your lips. He looked at you and you didn't even need to be told what to do, you instantly wrapped your lips around the finger. It was weird tasting yourself but the way Joaquin's hip instinctively jerked forwards as you began to suck on his finger managed to distract you.
"Fuuuuuck." His groan was low, vibrating against you with how close your body was to his. It reminded you of the way he spoke with his tongue buried deep inside you.
You couldn't take it any longer, you needed all of him inside you, now!
One swift movement and you held a condom in your hand that you had pulled out of the bag on your bedside table.
"Someone's prepared," Joaquin laughed. "Tell me the truth, did you plan all of this?"
You shook your head. "I just had one too many safe sex talks as a teenager."
He laughed again as he sat up and took the condom out of your hand. "I cannot imagine Tony Stark giving someone the talk."
Your mouth fell open in fake shock. "Who's bring my family up now? Is that your idea of dirty talk?"
Joaquin quickly pulled the condom over his rock hard dick before turning to face you. "Baby, you have no idea what dirty talk I'm capable of."
You cocked an eyebrow. "Oh really? Show me."
A moment later you found yourself on your back with Joaquin hovering above you once more. His mouth was close to your ear as he whispered in a low voice.
"I'm gonna fuck you until you see stars. I'll make you come so hard you'll forget everyone you've been with before. I'll get you addicted to my dick, you'll wish to be full of me every moment for the rest of your life."
He lifted his head to look into your eyes. You could really get lost in his dark eyes. Just hours ago at the party they had been filled with humour and kindness, now they glinted with dark desire. The way he looked at you distracted you from what was going on further down, only when his dick brushed against your clit did you realise he was lining himself up.
You ran a hand up his arm to his shoulder, lightly scratching it before you nodded.
That was all the permission Joaquin needed before he pushed inside you in one swift motion.
Joaquin's eyes never left yours. Despite his rough words earlier, he was now clearly looking for any signs of discomfort, though you were sure all he could find in your gaze was pleasure.
It had been a long time since you've slept with someone, you couldn't remember feeling this full, maybe you never were before.
Your mouth fell open in a soundless moan as Joaquin bottomed out. He stopped for a moment, letting you adjust to being filled with his dick. Only when you gave him a small nod did he begin to move. But it wasn't the slow stroke you had expected, Joaquin pulled out almost all the way before rapidly fucking into you. He set a brutal pace, one you couldn't wrap your head around. Pleasure overcame you faster than you had anticipated and by the time two of his fingers found your clit, you could have sworn you already came at least two times.
"You're so fucking tight. Perfect, so perfect," Joaquin groaned above you, his words almost swallowed by the loud moan that escaped you. "I'm not gonna last long, hermosa."
You shook your head, trying to agree, to tell him that you were right there with him.
Another snap of his hips and he hit a spot do deep within you you hadn't even known it existed until now.
"Fuck! Joaquin!" The sound that came out of your mouth wasn't a moan, it was something archaic, a guttural sound that could shake the earth.
You buried your fingers in his shoulder, sure to leave marks he'd discover in the morning. You did your best to try and meet his thrusts, to chase your pleasure the way you had earlier while at the same time searching for his mouth.
The kiss you finally managed to steal was all tongue and teeth, it was primal like the way he was fucking you and you wanted more, more, more.
"Close," you panted into the kiss, something you were sure Joaquin could tell by the way you clenched around him.
His thrusts became impossibly deeper, a bit slower until he finally bottomed out one last time. He came with your name on his lips and tears in the corners of his beautiful eyes. He looked like an angel.
It was the look on his face that made you follow suit. This orgasm was even mightier than the one before. If you had seen stars before, now you saw whole new galaxies.
The moment Joaquin slowly pulled out, you realised he had been right. You would be wishing to have him inside you for the rest of you life, not that you'd admit that out loud.
"That wasâŚ" he began as he lay on his back beside you, still trying to catch his breath.
You didn't say anything and instead pressed a kiss to the side of his head. His hair was damp with sweat, messy from the way you had run your fingers through it all night.
"You're gonna stay the night, right?"
Joaquin turned to face you, a satisfied smile on his face. "I don't think I could leave even if I wanted to." He leaned closer, his lips meeting yours in a soft and lazy kiss. "Good thing I don't want to."
You smiled into the kiss.Â
----------------
Thank you for the kind comments and all the love you showed the first chapter, I hope you'll enjoy this one as well <3
Summary: When you're all alone at the party, Joaquin comes to your rescue
Warnings: Mention of parent death, mention of a drink being spiked, suggestive content
You should have known better than to accept Sam's invitation to his birthday party. It's not that you didn't like Sam, over the years he had become a good friend, he had helped you more than you could express after your father's death. Maybe that was the reason you accepted his invitation despite knowing you'd be out of place at the party.
Sam was an Avenger, but first and foremost he was a soldier, who of course invited other soldier to this party.
Sarah Wilson had opened the door when you first arrived and greeted you with a smile and a quick hug. "How are you doing, honey?"
You had opened your mouth to tell her that you were fine, that you liked your new job, saw your family more often now that you had moved back to New York, but before you could say any of that Sarah was called away by one of her sons. That was the last you saw of the only familiar face at the party other than Sam, who was surrounded by people he hadn't seen in ages.
That's how you found yourself alone in a corner, nursing the same drink you had picked up an hour ago, glued to your phone.
Bucky had promised he'd show up and he had yet to do so. You texted him nonstop, trying to get him to hurry up, but to no avail.
You let your eyes wander the room, watching the people who all seemed to know each other. Most of them were friends Sam had met in the army, some politicians. Not your crowd. Despite growing up around a team of superheroes, you weren't one for crowds.
You looked down at your phone again. Still no reply from Bucky.
You weren't mad at Sam for basically ignoring you except for a wave in your direction and a sympathetic smile every now and then, it was his birthday and he had to be a good host. Besides, there were people here he hadn't seen in ages, as well as those he had to suck up to due to his job.
"C'mon, Barnes," you mumbled to yourself, vowing that if he didn't show up in the next 30 minutes you'd leave. Sam would understand and Bucky could take your place in the corner if he ever did decide to make an appearance.
"Would you like a refill?" An unfamiliar voice interrupted your thoughts of murdering the ex-assassin.
You looked up from your (still black) phone screen to find a man roughly around your age standing in front of you. He was cute, dark hair becoming unruly from the heat in the apartment, kind dark eyes. You had seen him before, though you weren't quite sure where.
"You do realise that women are taught basically from birth never to accept drinks from strangers, right?" Though you meant it mostly as a joke, this was something you lived by ever since a boy had put something in your drink at a school dance when you were 14.
"I'm Joaquin," the man said, holding out his hand for you to shake.
It took another moment but then you realised where you knew the man from.
"You're Joaquin Torres, Sam's friend."
He put his hand in his pocket once he realised you were not going to shake it and sat down on the ground next to you.
"The one and only." He leaned his head against the wall, turning to face you. "And you're Y/N Stark, Sam has told me all about you."
You looked at him, trying to figure out whether the things Sam had told him were good or bad. The two of you had the kind of relationship where it could go either way; either he had told Joaquin that you were smart and pretty and capable and pretty much the best human being in the entire world, or he said you were a monster.
"All good things, don't worry." He paused for a moment. "Though nothing he said could live up to the real thing."
There was a certain earnestness around Joaquin that made it hard for you to tell whether he was flirting or just generally a very nice and polite person. And to be honest, you weren't sure whether you wanted to find out. This was the first actual conversation you had had in days. Sure, there were the occasional texts and Pepper had called earlier that day to ask how you were, but that had been a quick three minute call before she had to attend to some emergency.
"Has Sam told you anything about me?" There was a hint of vulnerability hidden behind the carefree smile on his face. This was a man who wanted to impress, not just you but the people he met in general.
"Not really, sorry." You couldn't lie to him, not when he looked at you like that. God, you wished you had lied because then the conversation would have continued instead of the awkward silence that now hung between you.
"Hey," he suddenly said. "Would you rather have three arms or two mouths?"
The question caught you off guard. Who was this man asking such random things?
"Three arms for sure. Imagine all the things you could accomplish."
Joaquin crossed his (two) arms across his chest. "But what would you wear? You'd have to have all your clothes special made."
You shrugged. "Or I could just not wear a top."
He looked at you in shock, eyebrows raised almost up to his hairline. "You can't say things like that! It'll give people ideas."
The corners of your lips lifted in the tiniest of smirks. You leaned closer to him, just a little bit, but enough to be in his personal space. "Oh yeah? What kind of ideas?"
A shadow was cast over the two of you, stopping Joaquin from saying anything more.
You turned away from the man next to you to face whoever had interrupted you to give them a piece of your mind, but the words got stuck in your throat once you realised who it was.
"Bucky!" You exclaimed as you jumped up from your spot on the ground.
The super soldier gave you a tight hug and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Hello, doll."
He took a step away from you to really look at you. One thing far too few people realised was that James Buchanan Barnes was secretly a fashionista who loved to dress up whenever he had the chance and wouldn't miss an opportunity to judge your outfit.
"You look great," he finally said after letting his eyes roam up and down your body.
"I know I do," you replied. You had spent more than enough time getting ready earlier this evening, making sure you looked near perfect for Sam's big birthday party.
"And I see you're talking to Torres." Bucky looked between the two of you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. For the past couple of months he had made it his personal mission to set you up with basically any living, breathing person he came across and finding you next to Joaquin must have delighted him.
"Sergeant," Joaquin was quick to reply as he got up as well. He held out his hand for the other man to shake, who did so using more pressure than necessary if Joaquin's expression was anything to go by.
"How long have you two known each other?"
You rolled your eyes at Bucky's question. This was neither the time nor the place to set you up with anyone.
"We only just met," Joaquin replied. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea the two of you were together." The tiniest hint of a blush crept up his cheeks. So he had been flirting with you, only now he thought you were dating one of your closets friends, the man who had become something like a brother.
"We're not together," you quickly said, wanting to get rid of any misunderstandings as quick as possible.
You avoided Bucky's gaze, knowing that he was looking between you and Joaquin, trying to figure out what was going on.
"I'm not interrupting something, am I?"
You were quick to shake your head. "You're not." If anything you were glad Bucky had shown up. In the few minutes you had spent talking to Joaquin, you had begun to like him, which was not something that was int he cards for you right now.
"Are you sure?" Bucky asked once more, this time looking straight at the other man.
You followed his gaze, looking at Joaquin as well. Did you want him to say that Bucky was interrupting something? Did you want him to be flirting with you? It's not like you were looking for anything serious, but he was cute and nice and you'd be lying if you said that you couldn't see yourself ending up in his bed tonight.
"No, Sergeant Barnes, you're not interrupting anything, sir." Joaquin's eyes moved from Bucky to you and you felt a hot shiver running down your spine due to the intensity of his gaze. "I simply wanted to get the know Y/N after I've heard so much about her."
Bucky nodded. There was a tiny smirk on his face, an expression you had become somewhat familiar with whenever he was joking around with Steve and which, ever since Steve had gone back in time, he sometimes wore around Sam.
"And what's your verdict so far?"
You were quick to place a hand on Joaquin's arm. You could feel the warmth of his skin and his hard muscles through the thin shirt but did your best to ignore it, not to imagine those arms wrapped around you in all sorts of different scenarios and positions. "You don't have to answer that."
But he just ignored you, as if he hadn't heard you, as if you hand on his arm didn't bother him in the slightest. He looked straight at Bucky as he talked.
"She seems like a smart and accomplished young woman." Joaquin now finally turned to look at you. "And I look forwards to getting to know her better."
You felt warmth rising to your cheeks. He really was the cutest man you had met in a long time.
If it weren't for the fact that this was Sam's birthday party (and that you wanted to make a good impression on Joaquin) you would have punched that shit-eating grin out of Bucky's face. You knew he could read you like an open book and that it was impossible to hide your thoughts regarding Joaquin from Bucky.
"I better leave you to it then," he said, throwing another grin your way before he turned around, leaving the two of you alone in the crowd.
"I'm sorry about him," you said as soon as he was out of earshot.
Joaquin shook his head. You could have sworn you saw a hint of colour rising to his cheeks as he scratched the back of his head. "Don't be," he said. "You're cute when you're flustered."
You took a step closer to him, your confidence amped up by his statement. "You think I'm cute?"
It seemed like your reaction pushed him, made him realise that there was no need to be nervous. He nodded.
"Is that all I am?" It was a bold move but there was just something about Joaquin that made you want to tease him, while it was nice to be called cute, you wanted him to call you all sorts of other things as well. Things you knew you'd have to work hard for him to say at Captain America's birthday party.
"You're funny as well," Joaquin said. "Clever. Beautiful."
You took another step closer and leaned forward even closer until you were in his personal space. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, smell his intoxicating cologne and the tiniest hint of his natural scent underneath. It made you long to run your tongue along his skin, to touch, to feel, to taste.
"Anything else?"
Joaquin visibly swallowed. "Way out of my league."
You shook your head and looked him straight in the eyes. "I don't think so." And you moved even closer, impossibly closer. Your chest almost touched, making your nipples harden from anticipation. "I think we'd make perfect sense together."
Joaquin's eyes drifted to your lips for a split second. He wasn't able to hide how much he wanted you, you could see it in his eyes, read it in his body language.
"Your dad would rise from his grave if I dared to touch you," he tried to protest. But you were having none of it. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling not only the hard muscles but also the rapid beating of his heart.
"C'mon, Falcon, are you really scared of the man who sacrificed himself to save the world?" Â Â Â
Though you wouldn't admit it, you knew Joaquin had a point. Not that your dad would come back to haunt him but back in the day he had always been incredibly protective of you. The first time you brought a boy home, he had interrogated him for close to an hour. Interns were never allowed close to you, though you did recall one brown haired boy who had become your friend over time.
"No," he finally said. "But there are other people who'd rip my head off if they knew what I was thinking about right now." His voice was low as he spoke close to your ear.
You knew he was probably talking about Bucky, could practically feel the super soldier's stare on your back, but that didn't stop you from rising to your tiptoes until your lips almost touched Joaquin's.
"Maybe we should continue this conversation elsewhere," you whispered in what you hoped was your most seductive voice. It seemed to work because Joaquin wetted his lips with his tongue, making you want to taste those lips yourself. It had been ages since you last found yourself attracted to someone the way you were now attracted to Joaquin and the fact that he took things as slow as he did drove you crazy.
"Let me say goodbye to Sam, it'd be rude to just leave."
You ran your hand up and down his chest, lower and lower with each trip. He wanted you, you could tell as much from your reaction.
"Or you could text him from the car," you suggested.
Joaquin thought about it for a while but he finally nodded. "Alright, hermosa, let's get out of here."Â
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I might write a part two if I have time and you guys would want to read it
Summary: When you're all alone at the party, Joaquin comes to your rescue
Warnings: Mention of parent death, mention of a drink being spiked, suggestive content
You should have known better than to accept Sam's invitation to his birthday party. It's not that you didn't like Sam, over the years he had become a good friend, he had helped you more than you could express after your father's death. Maybe that was the reason you accepted his invitation despite knowing you'd be out of place at the party.
Sam was an Avenger, but first and foremost he was a soldier, who of course invited other soldier to this party.
Sarah Wilson had opened the door when you first arrived and greeted you with a smile and a quick hug. "How are you doing, honey?"
You had opened your mouth to tell her that you were fine, that you liked your new job, saw your family more often now that you had moved back to New York, but before you could say any of that Sarah was called away by one of her sons. That was the last you saw of the only familiar face at the party other than Sam, who was surrounded by people he hadn't seen in ages.
That's how you found yourself alone in a corner, nursing the same drink you had picked up an hour ago, glued to your phone.
Bucky had promised he'd show up and he had yet to do so. You texted him nonstop, trying to get him to hurry up, but to no avail.
You let your eyes wander the room, watching the people who all seemed to know each other. Most of them were friends Sam had met in the army, some politicians. Not your crowd. Despite growing up around a team of superheroes, you weren't one for crowds.
You looked down at your phone again. Still no reply from Bucky.
You weren't mad at Sam for basically ignoring you except for a wave in your direction and a sympathetic smile every now and then, it was his birthday and he had to be a good host. Besides, there were people here he hadn't seen in ages, as well as those he had to suck up to due to his job.
"C'mon, Barnes," you mumbled to yourself, vowing that if he didn't show up in the next 30 minutes you'd leave. Sam would understand and Bucky could take your place in the corner if he ever did decide to make an appearance.
"Would you like a refill?" An unfamiliar voice interrupted your thoughts of murdering the ex-assassin.
You looked up from your (still black) phone screen to find a man roughly around your age standing in front of you. He was cute, dark hair becoming unruly from the heat in the apartment, kind dark eyes. You had seen him before, though you weren't quite sure where.
"You do realise that women are taught basically from birth never to accept drinks from strangers, right?" Though you meant it mostly as a joke, this was something you lived by ever since a boy had put something in your drink at a school dance when you were 14.
"I'm Joaquin," the man said, holding out his hand for you to shake.
It took another moment but then you realised where you knew the man from.
"You're Joaquin Torres, Sam's friend."
He put his hand in his pocket once he realised you were not going to shake it and sat down on the ground next to you.
"The one and only." He leaned his head against the wall, turning to face you. "And you're Y/N Stark, Sam has told me all about you."
You looked at him, trying to figure out whether the things Sam had told him were good or bad. The two of you had the kind of relationship where it could go either way; either he had told Joaquin that you were smart and pretty and capable and pretty much the best human being in the entire world, or he said you were a monster.
"All good things, don't worry." He paused for a moment. "Though nothing he said could live up to the real thing."
There was a certain earnestness around Joaquin that made it hard for you to tell whether he was flirting or just generally a very nice and polite person. And to be honest, you weren't sure whether you wanted to find out. This was the first actual conversation you had had in days. Sure, there were the occasional texts and Pepper had called earlier that day to ask how you were, but that had been a quick three minute call before she had to attend to some emergency.
"Has Sam told you anything about me?" There was a hint of vulnerability hidden behind the carefree smile on his face. This was a man who wanted to impress, not just you but the people he met in general.
"Not really, sorry." You couldn't lie to him, not when he looked at you like that. God, you wished you had lied because then the conversation would have continued instead of the awkward silence that now hung between you.
"Hey," he suddenly said. "Would you rather have three arms or two mouths?"
The question caught you off guard. Who was this man asking such random things?
"Three arms for sure. Imagine all the things you could accomplish."
Joaquin crossed his (two) arms across his chest. "But what would you wear? You'd have to have all your clothes special made."
You shrugged. "Or I could just not wear a top."
He looked at you in shock, eyebrows raised almost up to his hairline. "You can't say things like that! It'll give people ideas."
The corners of your lips lifted in the tiniest of smirks. You leaned closer to him, just a little bit, but enough to be in his personal space. "Oh yeah? What kind of ideas?"
A shadow was cast over the two of you, stopping Joaquin from saying anything more.
You turned away from the man next to you to face whoever had interrupted you to give them a piece of your mind, but the words got stuck in your throat once you realised who it was.
"Bucky!" You exclaimed as you jumped up from your spot on the ground.
The super soldier gave you a tight hug and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "Hello, doll."
He took a step away from you to really look at you. One thing far too few people realised was that James Buchanan Barnes was secretly a fashionista who loved to dress up whenever he had the chance and wouldn't miss an opportunity to judge your outfit.
"You look great," he finally said after letting his eyes roam up and down your body.
"I know I do," you replied. You had spent more than enough time getting ready earlier this evening, making sure you looked near perfect for Sam's big birthday party.
"And I see you're talking to Torres." Bucky looked between the two of you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. For the past couple of months he had made it his personal mission to set you up with basically any living, breathing person he came across and finding you next to Joaquin must have delighted him.
"Sergeant," Joaquin was quick to reply as he got up as well. He held out his hand for the other man to shake, who did so using more pressure than necessary if Joaquin's expression was anything to go by.
"How long have you two known each other?"
You rolled your eyes at Bucky's question. This was neither the time nor the place to set you up with anyone.
"We only just met," Joaquin replied. "I'm so sorry, I had no idea the two of you were together." The tiniest hint of a blush crept up his cheeks. So he had been flirting with you, only now he thought you were dating one of your closets friends, the man who had become something like a brother.
"We're not together," you quickly said, wanting to get rid of any misunderstandings as quick as possible.
You avoided Bucky's gaze, knowing that he was looking between you and Joaquin, trying to figure out what was going on.
"I'm not interrupting something, am I?"
You were quick to shake your head. "You're not." If anything you were glad Bucky had shown up. In the few minutes you had spent talking to Joaquin, you had begun to like him, which was not something that was int he cards for you right now.
"Are you sure?" Bucky asked once more, this time looking straight at the other man.
You followed his gaze, looking at Joaquin as well. Did you want him to say that Bucky was interrupting something? Did you want him to be flirting with you? It's not like you were looking for anything serious, but he was cute and nice and you'd be lying if you said that you couldn't see yourself ending up in his bed tonight.
"No, Sergeant Barnes, you're not interrupting anything, sir." Joaquin's eyes moved from Bucky to you and you felt a hot shiver running down your spine due to the intensity of his gaze. "I simply wanted to get the know Y/N after I've heard so much about her."
Bucky nodded. There was a tiny smirk on his face, an expression you had become somewhat familiar with whenever he was joking around with Steve and which, ever since Steve had gone back in time, he sometimes wore around Sam.
"And what's your verdict so far?"
You were quick to place a hand on Joaquin's arm. You could feel the warmth of his skin and his hard muscles through the thin shirt but did your best to ignore it, not to imagine those arms wrapped around you in all sorts of different scenarios and positions. "You don't have to answer that."
But he just ignored you, as if he hadn't heard you, as if you hand on his arm didn't bother him in the slightest. He looked straight at Bucky as he talked.
"She seems like a smart and accomplished young woman." Joaquin now finally turned to look at you. "And I look forwards to getting to know her better."
You felt warmth rising to your cheeks. He really was the cutest man you had met in a long time.
If it weren't for the fact that this was Sam's birthday party (and that you wanted to make a good impression on Joaquin) you would have punched that shit-eating grin out of Bucky's face. You knew he could read you like an open book and that it was impossible to hide your thoughts regarding Joaquin from Bucky.
"I better leave you to it then," he said, throwing another grin your way before he turned around, leaving the two of you alone in the crowd.
"I'm sorry about him," you said as soon as he was out of earshot.
Joaquin shook his head. You could have sworn you saw a hint of colour rising to his cheeks as he scratched the back of his head. "Don't be," he said. "You're cute when you're flustered."
You took a step closer to him, your confidence amped up by his statement. "You think I'm cute?"
It seemed like your reaction pushed him, made him realise that there was no need to be nervous. He nodded.
"Is that all I am?" It was a bold move but there was just something about Joaquin that made you want to tease him, while it was nice to be called cute, you wanted him to call you all sorts of other things as well. Things you knew you'd have to work hard for him to say at Captain America's birthday party.
"You're funny as well," Joaquin said. "Clever. Beautiful."
You took another step closer and leaned forward even closer until you were in his personal space. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, smell his intoxicating cologne and the tiniest hint of his natural scent underneath. It made you long to run your tongue along his skin, to touch, to feel, to taste.
"Anything else?"
Joaquin visibly swallowed. "Way out of my league."
You shook your head and looked him straight in the eyes. "I don't think so." And you moved even closer, impossibly closer. Your chest almost touched, making your nipples harden from anticipation. "I think we'd make perfect sense together."
Joaquin's eyes drifted to your lips for a split second. He wasn't able to hide how much he wanted you, you could see it in his eyes, read it in his body language.
"Your dad would rise from his grave if I dared to touch you," he tried to protest. But you were having none of it. You placed a hand on his chest, feeling not only the hard muscles but also the rapid beating of his heart.
"C'mon, Falcon, are you really scared of the man who sacrificed himself to save the world?" Â Â Â
Though you wouldn't admit it, you knew Joaquin had a point. Not that your dad would come back to haunt him but back in the day he had always been incredibly protective of you. The first time you brought a boy home, he had interrogated him for close to an hour. Interns were never allowed close to you, though you did recall one brown haired boy who had become your friend over time.
"No," he finally said. "But there are other people who'd rip my head off if they knew what I was thinking about right now." His voice was low as he spoke close to your ear.
You knew he was probably talking about Bucky, could practically feel the super soldier's stare on your back, but that didn't stop you from rising to your tiptoes until your lips almost touched Joaquin's.
"Maybe we should continue this conversation elsewhere," you whispered in what you hoped was your most seductive voice. It seemed to work because Joaquin wetted his lips with his tongue, making you want to taste those lips yourself. It had been ages since you last found yourself attracted to someone the way you were now attracted to Joaquin and the fact that he took things as slow as he did drove you crazy.
"Let me say goodbye to Sam, it'd be rude to just leave."
You ran your hand up and down his chest, lower and lower with each trip. He wanted you, you could tell as much from your reaction.
"Or you could text him from the car," you suggested.
Joaquin thought about it for a while but he finally nodded. "Alright, hermosa, let's get out of here."Â
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I might write a part two if I have time and you guys would want to read it
Cassian Andor x Duchess!ReaderÂ
Warnings: Talk of death, canon typical violence, sexism, smut (including oral, PiV, and slight choking and orgasm denial, thigh riding), possessiveness (from both Cassian and reader)
Summary: I honestly donât have a summary... Itâs kind of an enemies to lovers, friends with benefits, fake bodyguard, soulmates story.
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Nothing could ever shake your unwavering loyalty to the Rebellion, or at least thatâs what you thought before you met him.Â
Cassian Andor. Infamous rebel spy, ladies man, fighter to his core, and the one person in the Rebellion you hated almost as much as the Empire itself.Â
For quite some time now you have wondered how it was possible for you to get along with every single other rebel, and then you met Cassian and all that went out the window.Â
It wasnât exactly hate at first sight, in fact the first conversation the two of you had had been good. He was reserved and held back, didnât tell you anything about his past of his motivation to join the Rebel Alliance, but he was polite, nice, almost flirty. Well, the next time you saw him all that had changed.Â
Cassian had single-handedly managed to make you question whether taking down the Empire was really worth spending time with him. Until said Empire committed another atrocity that is and you realised that as annoying as Cassian might be, it was worth it. For you, your loved ones, your people, and the entire galaxy.Â
âYour Grace, Bail Organa requests your presence in his office,â the voice of your trusted lady drew your attention away from your brooding thoughts.Â
You turned away from the window, the millions of stars outside it, and nodded your thanks to her.Â
You had expected to be called into someoneâs office sooner rather than later, after all you had already spent more time on the starship than you liked. Every second you spent with the rebels, even worse on one of their ships, was a risk. You could gather intel at meetings, read classified reports from the Empire only community leaders had access to, help the Rebellion in many little ways, but actually being with them for an extended period of time might draw the wrong kind of attention and blow your cover of neutrality.Â
Your lady following behind you, you made your way to Bailâs office, the doors of which opened the second you halted in front of them.Â
âPlease wait here for me, Mira.âÂ
With a small curtsy your lady told you that she understood and you entered the office, the doors closing behind you again.Â
Bail Organa stood with his back to you, another human male next to him, and an all too familiar Togruta facing both of them and thereby you.Â
âY/n, Iâm glad you could join us,â Ahsoka said with a smile on her face.Â
You returned the gesture, focusing all your attention on her so as not to stare daggers at the other man in the room, who out of the corner of your eye you had by now recognised as none other than Cassian Andor.Â
âThe pleasure is all mine. I didnât know youâd be here,â you told her as you walked across the office to give her a hug.Â
Despite a ten year age difference you counted Ahsoka to your closest friends, one of the few other women in the Rebellion and someone who had been through more than you could ever imagine.Â
âYouâre more beautiful every time I see you,â Ahsoka told you, looking you over. You knew you looked your best today, your white dress flattering your body shape and your hair styled in the newest fashion with a flower native to your planet braided into it. âDoesnât she?âÂ
The last words were directed at the two men in the office, forcing you to stand beside Ahsoka and look at them.Â
âBeautiful like a midnight flower, your Grace,â Bail said with a smooth kiss to your hand.Â
Cassian, on the other hand, didnât even acknowledge you. Instead he kept his gaze focused on the holopad on the desk.Â
âEnough with the pleasantries now. Please, letâs get to business. What is so important that we had to meet here?âÂ
Finally, Cassian looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours in a cold stare. âWhy? Did your Grace have somewhere more important to be?âÂ
Out of his mouth the honorific sounded like an insult. It was only due to years of education and dealing with condescending politicians that you managed to ignore him and instead focus on the two people in the room you actually liked.Â
âI know what you risk by meeting us here, Y/n, but there was nowhere else we deemed safe,â Ahsoka said. âWhat weâre about to tell you could change everything.âÂ
Her words made you look at the datapad, which displayed a map and a long list of names next to it. It took you a moment to recognise some of them. Bail was on that list, as was his wife Queen Breha and even their daughter, though only just a teenager. Ahsoka, deemed dead by the Empire, wasnât on it, but you spotted a few other familiar names, friends, other rebels you had only spoken to briefly. Cassian.Â
You looked up from the list and met his eyes. He knew he was on the list, of course he did, maybe that was the reason he was here now, and though you should have expected him to be on the list, especially with what little you know of his past, it somehow shocked you that the Empire was really after him, that one day he might not return from a mission.Â
âCassian here managed to secure this list a couple of weeks ago. Itâs names and last known locations of people the Empire knows or thinks might be a danger to it. Spies, rebels, gang members, everyone who for some reason or other isnât happy with the Empire.âÂ
You looked at Bail as he talked, an unspoken question in your eyes.Â
He shook his head. âYouâre not on that list. But that doesnât mean there arenât others on which you might be.âÂ
You nodded. It had always been a risk to work for the Rebellion, you knew that one day the Empire might find out and you would have to face the consequences.Â
âWhatâs the plan? Do you want me to hide those people on Kamaanti?âÂ
It was somewhat of a rhetorical question, you knew, and everyone else in the room did as well, that you might have been able to hide a few people on your small planet but not an entire list of enemies to the Empire, at least not without getting yourself on that list as well, and getting people killed in the process.Â
âYouâre invited to the Empireâs annual masquerade ball, right?âÂ
Another rhetorical question. As Duchess of Kamaanti you were invited every year, forced to dance with Imperials, listen to their ideas and how they thought they were the greatest beings to ever walk the galaxy, and in an admittedly clever way kept away from any known rebel sympathisers at the event.Â
âI am.âÂ
Bail nodded.Â
You remember, years ago, when he and his family had been invited to the ball as well. Thatâs where you first met, where you found out that Bail, in his days as a republic senator, had been quite close with your own parents before their untimely death, where he had begun to give you hints of a group of people who werenât exactly on board with the Empire.Â
The last couple of years the Organas were still invited, as the royal family of Alderaan they had to be, though be it on paper only. Everyone knew that they werenât exactly welcome, other than you they had never kept their political opinions exactly quiet.Â
âAnd it is still held in the Great Imperial Ballroom on Coruscant?âÂ
You confirmed.Â
âAnd do you know what lies beneath the ballroom?âÂ
You turned away from Bail to look at Ahsoka, who had spoken for the first time in a while.Â
âI donât,â you admitted after a moment of silence. âBut you do, donât you? You were raised on Coruscant.âÂ
Just like with Cassian, you knew only a little about Ahsokaâs past. You knew that she, like Bail, had known your parents before their death, that she was raised on Coruscant, that she kept many secrets she wouldnât even tell you.Â
âWhat is now known as the Great Imperial Ballroom wasnât always a ballroom. It used to be a training facility, which is quite useful since both a ballroom and a training room require soft flooring, big spaces, speakers for music. What are now the guest suites used to be dormitories, and underneath the ballroom, where there used to be storage, are now secret offices. Offices where the Empire does things they donât exactly want the public to know.âÂ
You nodded along with her words. Things they donât exactly want the public to know, such as writing up lists of enemies of the Empire, basically kill lists.Â
âAnd you want me to, what, sneak into the basement and delete the list?âÂ
It wasnât exactly madness, but almost equally as insane. Sure, you had an invitation to enter the building, a suite reserved for you just a few floors up, but you had no experience with breaking and entering whatsoever. You were an informant, you could help out with sensitive information, hide a few people if necessary, donate a star ship every once in a while, but you couldnât break into a top secret office, at least not without... help.Â
Your eyes flitted over to Cassian. Thatâs why he was here. You were the way in, he was the one to actually do the job.Â
âDelete the list, see if there are any others, and if so delete them as well,â Bail confirmed your earlier question.Â
You nodded along, barely registering his words.Â
Why Cassian? There were dozens of others who could to the job, people you didnât hate, who didnât hate you. Why did it have to be him?Â
âIâm sure youâre wondering what Cassian has to do with all of this,â Bail continued after a moment of silence.Â
You scoffed. You liked Bail, you really did, but sometimes he, like most other men, underestimated you simply because of your pretty face and your fancy clothes.Â
âI know exactly why heâs here. Iâm the looks, heâs the brain.âÂ
Now it was Cassianâs turn to scoff. He glared at you with fire in his eyes.Â
âI wouldnât exactly say that youâre the looks. More like Iâm the brain and the looks and youâre just our way in.âÂ
Charming, you thought, rolling your eyes at him.Â
âHave you really thought this through, Bail?â Ahsoka asked, mirroring your thoughts exactly.Â
Bail shrugged. âItâs an important mission and we need our best people on it. Iâm sure they can cease acting like children for at least a little while.âÂ
Somehow his words struck you. You really were acting like children, werenât you? Bail was right, this was an important mission and you couldnât risk it by arguing with Cassian every time he opened his mouth or even just breathed in your direction.Â
With an audible sigh you reached your hand across the desk, offering it to the spy.Â
âTruce?âÂ
After a moment of heavy silence, and raised eyebrows from both Ahsoka and Bail, Cassian returned the gesture, enclosing your hand in his.Â
The warmth of it, even in the slightly cold office, took you by surprise, as did the calluses against your soft skin. And yet his hand somehow fit in yours, not quite like a puzzle piece but it didnât repulse you as much as you had anticipated.Â
You squeezed his hand once, giving him your most dazzling smile, before letting go and turning back to Bail.Â
âSo, whatâs the cover story? How am I going to get Cassian past security?âÂ
-------
You were scared.Â
It was a week later, you were on your way to the masquerade ball, and you were scared as fuck.Â
This, though undeniably for a good cause, wasnât what you had signed up for when you agreed to work with the Rebellion. This was espionage, you were used to sitting behind a desk, typing up neat reports to send to the Rebellion via paper, something that left little to no digital evidence the Empire could trace back to you.Â
âYouâre nervous,âÂ
It wasnât a question, Cassian, sitting beside you in the traditional clothes of your personal guard, was simply stating a fact.Â
And yet you couldnât admit it, not to him.Â
âIâm not.âÂ
You glanced over to your driver, the same woman who piloted your starship whenever you needed to leave the planet, who flew you from useless appointment to useless appointment. You trusted her, at least on the basic level you trusted most, if not all, of your employèes, but you couldnât risk her overhearing anything.Â
âYouâre quite observant,â you told Cassian in your most regal voice, the one reserved for strangers and people you didnât like. Or at least people other than Cassian you didnât like, he somehow brought out a version of yourself you rarely showed, one that at the same time made you feel unlike yourself and more yourself than you were at any other time. Maybe he just agitated you so much that you lost all sense of self.Â
âIâm your guard, itâs my job,â Cassian replied, the hint of warmth his voice had held earlier gone, replaced by the same professionalism you tried your best to conjure up.Â
You silently cursed Bail for the idea to have Cassian pose as your guard. Admittedly, it clever since it would explain why the two of you would stick together the entire evening, and it was one of only two ways of getting Cassian inside the building. The other being having him pretend to be your date, your boyfriend or even fiancè, which everyone agreed wouldnât be believable and likely end in injury or death for one or both of you.Â
Moments of silence, in which every single way this mission could go wrong, crossed your mind, until finally the shining lights of the ballroom came into sight.Â
âWeâve arrived, maâam,â your driver announced.Â
From the way Cassian almost choked beside you, you could tell that he was trying his best to hold back a scoff. A small smile found its way to your lips, it was quite fun seeing Cassian having to deal with all of this. You were raised from birth to one day inherit your motherâs title of Duchess of Kamaanti, to understand, and even appreciate, the protocol that came with the role, the responsibility. But all of this was new to Cassian, and for the first time in quite some time, the first time since he let it slip how he came to leave Kenari, you felt for him.Â
âLetâs go, Cassian,â you said in a soft voice, hoping neither he nor your driver would misinterpret it as anything more than it was, a friendly way to encourage Cassian to get out there and face whatever the evening had to offer.Â
You could hear him take a deep breath before he exited the ship and opened the door for you, allowing you to face the flashing lights and people lined up to watch the guests enter the ballroom.Â
Cassian followed just a few steps behind you as you made your way up the stairs to the main entrance.Â
âThere are more witnesses than expected,â he whispered into your ear just as you reached the top step, the one spot where you were unlikely to be overheard by either guards or spectators.Â
His warm breath his your ear and for a moment it made you forget just how cold you were in your beautiful, but quite thin, dress in the Coruscant night air.Â
âThatâs just outside, inside thereâll be way less people.âÂ
You continued to walk up to the Imperial officer in charge of greeting the guests, one you knew you had met at a previous event but couldnât for the life of you remember the name of.Â
âYour Grace,â he greeted you with a stiff bow, his expression telling you just how much he despised showing his respect to a woman, especially one so much younger than himself.Â
âLieutenant, â you return, guessing his rank based on the medals gleaming on his chest.Â
Cassian stood behind you, no doubt noticing every detail about the grand entrance hall and the man in front of you, taking note of every exit, surveillance camera, and blaster in the area.Â
âAnd who is that with you?âÂ
Despite your best efforts the lieutenantâs question threw you off guard. You werenât used to having your actions or the people in your company questioned, at least not openly though of course you knew that people talked behind closed doors, not even at an Imperial event.Â
âThis is my personal guard. I was assured that you were told he was accompanying me.âÂ
Cassian stepped ever so slightly closer to you, something you could only tell by the heat radiating off his body intensifying against your back. You had a feeling that if you played close enough attention you could be able to feel his breath hitting the back of your neck where your hair was pulled up.Â
âYou didnât bring a guard with you last year, or the year before that.âÂ
It wasnât a question but you nodded nonetheless, trying to hide the unease that you felt at realising that among hundreds, if not thousands, of guests the Empire paid close enough attention to you for even the lieutenant to notice a change in your company.Â
âDue to the political climate my head of security thought it wise to have some extra protection.âÂ
You didnât mention the Rebellion, didnât say that this ball would be a perfect target and it would only make sense for someone as high ranking as yourself to have personal protection. You didnât need to, the officer, if he knew what was good for him, would let you pass, opting to admit that the situation with the rebels was getting dangerous rather than risking angering you.Â
âOf course, your Grace. An extra room in your suite for your guard has been prepared prior to your arrival.âÂ
You nodded, playing the part of snob nobility and not granting him a real answer, as you rushed past him, your skirt flowing behind you as you made your way to where you knew the lifts to be located.Â
âRoom 4215,â the lieutenant called after you.Â
Only as the lift doors closed behind you did you dare to let out the breath youâve been holding. All of this, lying, deceiving, pretending to be someone you were not, wasnât your area of expertise, and for the first time you really came to admire Cassian for managing it all so effortlessly.Â
âWell, that didnât go as well as I expected,â you started but before you could say anything else Cassian coughed once, then twice. Your agreed upon singal to tell the other that you were being watched.Â
You turned to face Cassian, who was standing behind you in the corner, trying to get a good look of your surroundings in the process. And there, in the top right corner, was a small camera, almost invisible to the untrained eye.Â
Cassian looked at you as you pretended not to notice the camera, to not let the Empire know that you were well aware that you were being watched.Â
Though this was you in your natural environment, embodying your role as duchess of Kamaanti, you were as tense as he had ever seen you. Granted, he hadnât spent all that much time with you, but the few times you did see each other you always looked more relaxed.Â
Thinking of the easy smile, comparing your clenched shoulders to your usual posture, brought back memories of your first meeting, and the time directly after it.Â
It was hot, hotter even than the usual scorching temperatures of Jakku, and Cassian longed to get back to the slightly cooler Yavin, or even just a shower to wash off all the sand and dirt clinging to his sweaty skin.Â
He was here to meet an important informant, one he had been told couldnât risk meeting anywhere other than the middle of nowhere.Â
Wiping sweat from his brow Cassian first thought that the girl he was seeing, probably a few years younger than he himself, must have been a hallucination. There was no way a girl like that, with glowing skin, shining hair, and a radiant smile.Â
âStars above, itâs a long way from home,â you said as you jumped off your speeder.Â
Those were the words, the signal, that told Cassian you really were the one had was supposed to meet.Â
âNot as long as a desert day,â he replied, telling you that he was the rebel you were told would be waiting for you.Â
You walked closer to where Cassian was sitting in the shade of a giant rock, just as he jumped up to meet you.Â
Up close you were even prettier, despite the sand clinging to your hair and your lips chapped from the dry air, you were a vision.Â
Cassian wasnât usually one to be at a loss for words when talking to a pretty woman but there was something about you.Â
âIâm Y/n,â you introduced yourself.Â
He repeated your name, trying to get used to the unfamiliar sound. It sounded pretty, sophisticated, like the name out of a fairytale.Â
âCassian.âÂ
You sat down in the shade, pulling a water bottle from your backpack and talking a sip before offering it to Cassian.Â
âWhatâs a guy like you doing in a place like this?âÂ
He chuckled, a sound that had almost become unfamiliar to his own ears. Laughter was hard to come by in the Rebellion but somehow, sitting on this hot as hell planet with you, it came easy to him.Â
âI could ask you the same thing, you donât look like a rebel. Far too pretty,â he was quick to add before you could say anything.Â
You laughed, a sound he longed for more than a cold shower. How he could feel like this only minutes after meeting you, knowing nothing about you but your name, he didnât know. Cassian wasnât a stranger to women, he had a healthy sex life, knew how to make females (and the occasional males) swoon over him, but never had he been so captivated by someone as he was by you.Â
âIâm not exactly a rebel, just an informant.âÂ
You pulled a stack of papers out of your backpack and handed them to him. Cassian flipped through them, finding names, locations, reports, and an envelope filled with credits among them.Â
You pocketed your water bottle again before getting up and brushing the sand off your trousers.Â
âFeel free to buy yourself something pretty, Cassian. We all deserve beauty amidst this darkness.â You made your way back to your speeder, leaving a stunned Cassian behind. âAnd if youâre ever on Kamaanti, feel free to drop by.âÂ
And with those words you were off, leaving Cassian to wonder who exactly you were.Â
He didnât have to wonder long though, once he returned to base Mon Mothma answered the pressing question on his mind.Â
You werenât just an informant, you were a duchess, nobility, someone who had the power and the money to change the course of the war and yet sat comfortably in your palace, tossing the Rebellion a bone every now and then, probably just to ease your conscience.Â
Cassian didnât usually blame people for not joining the Rebellion, everyone had their reasons to fight or to lay low, but if someone held the power you did, and yet did little to nothing, he couldnât help the burning anger.Â
Never mind that you were pretty or funny, inside you were little better than the Empire you didnât stand up to in favour of your own comfort.Â
-------
You exited the refresher wearing your ball gown, your hair and makeup done by the stylists who have left just a couple of minutes ago and your handbag, shoes, and mask waiting for you to complete the look.Â
Cassian, dressed in a smart suit rather than the uniform he had been wearing earlier, sat in the armchair next to your bed, staring at the datapad in his hand.Â
âCareful, I heard they bite when you glare at them like that,â you tried to joke to lighten the mood.Â
His tense shoulders didnât relax, if anything they clenched up even more as his eyes lifted and he looked you up and down.Â
âHow do I look?âÂ
The superficial part of you couldnât resist the question. You knew you looked good, and you knew that if Cassian even tried to deny it he would be lying.Â
But Cassian didnât deny it, instead he looked you up and down, a sudden heat in his eyes you had never seen there before.Â
You cast a quick glance to the mirror on the other side of the room. Your skin hadnât magically turned green, not a hair was out of place. The dark blue dress hugged your upper body, hiding all your insecurities in the process, before flowing out in a long silky skirt with a slit up one leg just long enough to be sexy but not too long as to be indecent for the ball.Â
âWhatâs the matter, loth cat got your tongue?,â you joked as you slipped your shoes on. You bent down to fasten the ties but before you could Cassianâs voice finally sounded through the room.Â
âLet me.âÂ
In one smooth motion he got out of his chair and slid onto the floor in front of you, his warm hand gently holding your ankle while the other busied itself with the fastening.Â
You couldnât deny that Cassian looked good in his suit, just like your dress it brought out his best features, though you did think it was a shame that he had gelled his hair back, suddenly realising just how much you had grown to like the casual hairstyle he usually had. But there was something about him kneeling in front of you, wearing this suit, that had heat racing up your leg from where he touched you right to your core. A tingling sensation all too familiar, yet one you had never experience with Cassian Andor of all people.Â
âIs everything alright?,â Cassian aksed, his voice slightly rough, his accent more pronounced, though you blamed it on him concentrating on securing the overly complicated clips and bows around your ankles.Â
âFine,â you choked out, a second too late realising that he had been talking about the upcoming evening, the mission, rather than the fact that having him on his knees in front of you did unmentionable things to you.Â
Finally, he let go of your leg and got up, though he was now standing a bit too close for comfort, his face only centimeters from your own.Â
âWhat do you do if weâre being watched?âÂ
You rolled your eyes. Same old Cassian was back, always testing you, believing you to be incompetent.Â
âCough twice.âÂ
He nodded, his dark eyes never leaving yours.Â
âAnd what do you do while I extract the files?âÂ
You crossed your arms in front of your chest, managing to put a bit more distance between the two of you in the process.Â
âStand guard outside the door.âÂ
He nodded again.Â
âAnd-âÂ
You uncrossed your arms again, scoffing as you grabbed the mask from the bed and slipped it over the upper half of your face before tying a bow behind your head to fasten it.Â
âAnd if someone comes Iâll pretend to be drunk and that I couldnât find my way back to my room. I know, Andor. I might not be an infamous spy like yourself but Iâm not an idiot either.âÂ
You tried your best not to frown, not wanting to smudge your makeup, and instead settled for glaring at him.Â
Cassian sighed, putting on his own mask.Â
âI never said you were an idiot, but you spend all your time worrying about where to find money for more of those pretty dresses you always wear.âÂ
Now that made you see red. Was that what Cassian really thought of you? After everything you did for the Rebellion, everything you sacrificed, did people, did he really believe that all you worried about were your looks?Â
âListen here you arrogant bantha shit,â you hissed between your teeth, walking over to Cassian until you were chest to chest, your voice dangerously low. âI worry about money, alright, and yes, sometimes I use that money to buy âpretty dressesâ but thatâs because itâs whatâs expected of me as a duchess. You know why I also worry about money? Because I need that money to pay my employèes so they can feed their families, I need that money to fund schools and universities, to give to those who need it, to buy weapons and supplies for your precious rebellion.â You took a deep breath before continuing, glad that you had managed to stun Andor into silence. âI donât give a fuck what you think of me, whether you like me or despise me as you so clearly do, but donât for one second think that I only think about myself. I may not be a rebel in the same way you are but make no mistake, Iâm no Imperial either.âÂ
You took a step back, refusing to look at Cassian again as you grabbed your small handbag and looked in the mirror one last time before exiting the room, your head held high and expecting Cassian to follow you like the duchess you were.Â
The ride down to the ballroom was awkward, filled with an unknown silence and tension, neither of you daring to say anything. But as soon as your arrival was announced and you entered the ballroom all that disappeared and you were in your element. This, even if you hated every single person in the room, was what you were born and raised to do. You may not exactly enjoy it, but you knew what to expect. You knew what people would ask and how they would answer your questions before they even opened their mouths. It wasnât like it was with Cassian, who never said what you expected him to and would probably rather eat his own shoe than listen to you. Here, with those sharks and piranhas, you could prove your worth to the Rebellion.Â
âYour Grace, you look stunning,â a young Imperial you didnât recognise greeted you. He lifted your hand up to place a kiss on the back of it.Â
âI donât believe Iâve had the pleasure,â you said, at the same time indirectly asking for his name and trying to remind him just how unprofessional it was to just approach a duchess, even as a high ranking officer, without being introduced by a mutual acquaintance.  Â
âCaptain Flak Romeis, pleasure to make your acquaintance.âÂ
His blond hair gleamed under the light as he looked you up and down in what you were sure he thought to be an inconspicuous way.Â
âThe pleasure is all mine, captain,â you purred, knowing full well that Cassian, who was standing only a step behind you, held the same title as the slimy Imperial in front of you.Â
âDuchess, it would be a great honour if you granted me a dance.âÂ
His overly formal words in combination with the way he still looked at you send icy shivers down your spine, a stark contrast to the heat Cassian had ignited in you just hours before.Â
Speak of the devil, before you could reply to Flakâs request, Cassianâs hand closed around your wrist, tugging ever so slightly in a manner that was no less unprofessional than the Imperialâs behaviour.Â
You turned around to face him for the first time since your argument, his hand still holding your wrist in a firm grasp.Â
âI donât think it would be wise to dance with him, your Grace,â he whispered just loud enough for you to hear, to smell his minty breath and close your eyes to regain your composure.Â
âAnd why is that? Surely he doesnât pose a threat to my safety.âÂ
You blinked up at Cassian, urging him to play the guard, not to blow your cover over a simple dance and some nasty looks.Â
âJust one dance,â you said, lowering your voice. âAnd then we can do what we came here for.âÂ
You pulled your hand out of his grasp, placing it on the Imperialâs arm so he could lead you to the dancefloor.Â
âI hope I didnât just pull you away from your husband,â he said as you got into position, placing one of your hands in his and the other on his shoulder while his other hand founds its place on your waist.Â
âHusband?â You couldnât help but laugh. Both of you were piss poor actors if people believed that Cassian was your husband. âHeâs my personal guard. A bit overprotective maybe, itâs the first big event heâs accompanied me to.âÂ
The music began to play and the Imperial took the first steps, leading you into the dance as Cassian watched from the side.Â
Maybe the playing pretend finally got to him because he felt a wave of protectiveness rise up as he watched Flakâs hand drift lower just a hint, as he pulled you closer, as he made you laugh.Â
Cassian knew that you were playing a part just as he was, that there was no way you were charmed by an Imperial, especially one as slimy as Captain Flak Romeis. Though you didnât believe it to be true, as your little speech earlier had shown, Cassian did think highly of you, or at least of your dedication to the Rebellion. He knew what you were risking, that if you were caught it wouldnât end well for you, that the Empire would make an example out of the unfaithful duchess.Â
Still watching you float across the dancefloor, Cassian noticed another guard, an actual personal guard, approach him out of the corner of his eye.Â
âYouâre fucking her, arenât you?âÂ
The question, and the way in which it was asked, managed something only few people ever managed, it made him lose his focus.Â
Cassian turned to face the other guard, a Twiâlek, dressed in a suit so much like his own.Â
âDonât worry, I wonât tell,â he continued. âIâm hooking up with my charge as well, though sheâs nowhere near as good looking as yours. She really is something else. Is there any chance youâre willing to share?âÂ
Though Cassian was no stranger to hooking up with women, sometimes women he had only seen as briefly as the guard had seen you, he did believe that everyone was owed respect, regardless of gender or looks, and you especially.Â
Yes, Cassian himself had difficulties tearing his eyes away from you in that dress, and a fantasy of ripping it off you had crossed his mind, but hearing someone else talk about you like that made him forget your argument earlier, replaced any anger he had towards you with angers towards the guard.Â
âYou either leave right now and never look at her again or Iâll find you on whatever backwater planet you live on and break your jaw so you wonât ever talk about her like that again, understood?âÂ
The guard didnât even have a chance to reply before you suddenly appeared in front of Cassian, and as he looked to his side the Twiâlek was gone.Â
A few strands of your hair had fallen out of place and Cassianâs fingers twitched to push them behind your ear.Â
âMay I have another dance before the night is over?,â the Imperial captain asked, calling Cassianâs attention to the fact that he was standing right there beside you.Â
Like a bucket of ice water it reminded him of why he had to stay away from you, you were a distraction. A beautiful distraction, but a distraction nonetheless.Â
âWeâll see, Captain Romeis, I tend to retire quite early.âÂ
The statement was a polite a ânoâ as you could manage and luckily succeeded in driving him away, leaving you and Cassian alone.Â
âAre you ready to go exploring, your Grace?âÂ
-------
The hallway you were walking through was freezing cold, a stark contrast to the stale air in the ballroom, and something that made you appreciate Cassianâs body heat next to you a tiny bit more.Â
âI was sure your heels would give us way but now Iâm beginning to think itâs your clattering teeth,â Cassian whispered under his breath.Â
You were about to throw him an annoyed comment about how you dressed for a hot ballroom filled with hundreds of people, not an abandoned hallway that even a droid would catch a cold in, when you felt a sudden warmth around your upper body.Â
You had been too distracted with trying to come up with a witty comment to notice that Cassian, in an act that was as unlike him as dressing up in bright pink would be, had placed his suit jacket around your shoulders.Â
âI-,â you started before abruptly shutting your mouth. Cassian had just done a nice thing for you, now wasnât the time for sarcasm. âThank you.âÂ
A small grunt was all the reply Cassian gave you. You rolled your eyes at his hot-and-cold behaviour, an act that, as childish as it was, saved your asses.Â
You coughed once. Twice.Â
Cassian looked at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to follow your line of sight without being too obvious.Â
You saw the recognition in his eyes as he spotted the security camera in the corner.Â
âItâs an IB24, it doesnât record sound,â he told you, his monotone voice didnât give you any comfort, but it didnât give you reason to panic further either.Â
âDoesnât mean itâs safe to talk, does it? Whoever watches the footage could still read our lips.â You put your hands in the pockets of Cassianâs jacket, trying to busy yourself so you wouldnât begin to freak as another thought settled in your head. âThey donât just see two people who arenât supposed to be here. Cassian, theyâll recognise us, recognise me.âÂ
Your partner scoffed as he reached for the blaster previously hidden by his jacket and shot straight at the camera.Â
âListen to you, all concerned about your own kriffing wellbeing.âÂ
You didnât waste your breath explaining to him that you, being a duchess and not a spy who made a living by staying hidden, were simply more recognisable.Â
âYouâre one to talk, the great spy who doesnât even see a security camera.âÂ
Cassian, who had already taken a few steps towards the camera to knock it down and destroy the chip inside, turned around and came to stand right in front of you within a few quick strides.Â
âListen, mi duquesita, you cannot fuck with me right now. I need to concentrate if this mission is to be successful, and youâre making that damn difficult.âÂ
Though his voice was low, his breath hitting your lips, and his entire being surrounded you in a way that could go south within seconds, you werenât intimidated.Â
âTrust me, the last thing I want to do is fuck with you. Or fuck you, for that matter.âÂ
Cassian leaned impossibly closer, one hand reaching up to cup your chin and lift your head so you couldnât look away from his dark eyes with a dangerous fire burning within.Â
âAre you sure about that?âÂ
The sheer arrogance in his tone brought you to your senses. How dare he? Who did he think he was, who you were? Did he expect you to fawn over him just because he treated you like an equal for a couple of minutes?Â
You took a step back, letting Cassianâs hand fall from your chin, breaking the strange hold he had on you even further.Â
âLetâs just get this over with so we can go upstairs and I go to sleep and dream of being far away from you.Â
With a chuckle so soft you were sure you must have been imagining it, Cassian finally removed the chip from the camera, stuffing it in the pocket of his trousers before tossing you the broken camera.Â
âHold on to that, will you? Canât leave any more evidence of our visit than absolutely necessary.âÂ
And the rest of your mission really did feel like a visit, like a walk in the park. You found the correct door, Cassian broke in, leaving you standing guard outside, and within a few moments he was back out again, a small smile on his face.Â
âAll done, mi duquesita.âÂ
There was that nickname again. You wouldnât grant him the satisfaction of admitting that you didnât know what it meant, by asking for a translation. You spoke three living and two dead languages fluently, so what if you didnât speak Cassianâs damned language (both metaphorically and in the actual sense)?Â
âLetâs get out of here.âÂ
You began to walk back the way you had come, glad that for once everything seemed to be going quite well, when you turned around, noticing that Cassian wasnât following you.Â
âYou coming?âÂ
With a shake of his head he hurried to catch up to you.Â
âAre you in such a hurry because you canât wait to dance with Captain whatshisname again?âÂ
There was an unfamiliar venom in his voice, one you could have sworn was unlike anything Cassian had ever directed towards you.Â
The chance to annoy him further was right there and the words were at the tip of your tongue, but you decided to tell the truth. Partly because Cassian had been a good partner today and you didnât want to anger him the one time the two of you got along, but mostly because you were simply too exhausted to tell another lie.Â
âIâll be glad if I never have to see that guy again,â you admitted, pulling his jacket closer around your body as you tried to stifle a yawn. âI was telling the truth when I said that I just want to sleep.âÂ
From the corner of his eye Cassian looked you up and down before nodding.Â
âThen letâs take you to bed, your Grace.âÂ
You managed a nod, despite the fact that from his mouth the formal words sounded more like dirty talk than anything else.Â
The doors to the lift, which you had reached some time during your conversation, opened and you sank against the wall with a relieved sigh.Â
âI canât wait to take these kriffing shoes off,â you muttered.Â
Cassian, from the other side of the lift, smirked at you, one eyebrow raised.Â
âFoul mouth for a duchess.âÂ
If you only knew, you thought, and you were just about to say it as well, to try and test what it would take to make him lose his cool, what flirting with him would get you, when the doors unexpectedly opened.Â
The second the gap between the two doors was wider than a centimeter, thereby allowing whoever was outside to actually look inside the lift, Cassian jumped away from the wall until he was face to face with you.Â
âWe have no idea whoâs about to enter this lift,â he whispered.Â
You nodded in response. âCorrect.âÂ
âWeâre on the ballroom floor, whoever it is knows we didnât just get on, that weâve come from downstairs.âÂ
Another nod. There was no need to interrupt him, not when Cassian was clearly trying to come up with a plan to get you out of this situation.Â
âDo you trust me?,â he asked before quickly correcting himself. âNevermind, I know that you donât. But will you play along?âÂ
You barely had the chance to nod before Cassian placed his lips right beneath your ear, kissing you softly.Â
The gasp you let out was anything but fake. It was a surprise reaction, and one of unexpected pleasure. His lips were soft, a welcome contrast to the rough hairs of his beard, and his hands, that had found their way to your waist, felt good, great even.Â
As if on autopilot your own hands wandered up his back, settling in his hair, which you finally managed to rough up a bit, bringing it from its combed back style to the wild curls you were used to.Â
âI do hope Iâm not interrupting anything.âÂ
Your eyes flew open at the new voice, too distracted by Cassianâs lips on your hot skin to have noticed another person entering the lift.Â
Shit, shit, shit, shit. Kriffing shit, ran through your mind. Once again you found yourself on autopilot as you pushed Cassian away from you, ignoring how much you missed his hands, his lips, on your body the second they were gone, as you looked at the other man.Â
âGrand Moff Tarkin, I am so sorry.âÂ
You cursed yourself, this ball, the entire galaxy, that the person you had to be trapped in a lift with was Tarkin. You would have even preferred Darth Vader himself, at least he would have put you out of your misery instantly.Â
âDuchess.â Tarkin was too professional to look you up and down in what you presumed to be a dishevelled state, or to really look at Cassian, which you should be thankful for. âI noticed you were arriving from the basement, care to explain why?âÂ
âI-,â Cassian began to explain, but for once he actually shut up when you shot him a pointed look.Â
âWe were heading back up to my suite, must have pushed the wrong button in a hurry,â you were quick to explain. The lie slipped off your tongue easier than expected, especially considering you were lying to one of the most powerful men in the Empire while standing next to a leading member of the Rebellion.Â
âYes, I can see that you are in quite a hurry.âÂ
Tarkinâs dry tone didnât give you any hint as to whether he suspected that something was amiss. Cassian, despite his experience in situations like this, must have been feeling the same way, since his arm once again sneaked around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.Â
His hand sneaked lower, from your waist to your hip until it rested right on your ass, an act alone that made heat curl in your stomach, but when he gave it a soft squeeze you couldnât help the small yelp.Â
Well, as embarrassing as this was in front of Tarkin, at least now you had a better chance of actually selling your story.Â
As you tried to think of a way to reciprocate Cassianâs action, and coming up short due to his hand still firmly placed on your ass, the lift dinged. Your breath caught in your throat, fearing that even more Imperials would get on, but luck seemed to be on your side as Tarkin, his eyes like ice, looked you straight into the eyes.Â
âGoodnight, your Grace, sir.âÂ
He left without uttering another word and only once the doors closed behind him did you dare to take a deep breath.Â
Though he visibly relaxed, Cassianâs hand never left your body. Instead he leaned closer to your, whispering into your ear in a voice that was nothing if not sinful.Â
âTell me to stop any time and I will.âÂ
Before you could ask what he was talking about he once again caught your chin between his fingers, turning and lifting your head until he crashed his lips against yours.Â
If you had thought his kisses felt good against your neck, they were no comparison to having his lips on yours. They were warm, soft, and as your hands once again found their way to his hair and you gave it a single instinctatious tug, they opened for you, allowing you to let your tongue roam freely across his bottom lip and into his mouth, where his own tongue met yours with enthusiasm.Â
You pressed your body closer to Cassian, needing to feel more, to feel every part of him against every part of you. At the same time his hand left your ass, moving all over your body, leaving trails of hire in its wake, until one hand found its place on your waist, pulling you even closer, and the other began to caress your neck, applying just a tiny hint of pressure.Â
Your eyes, though firmly closed, rolled back in your head as your hips moved towards his, needing more, more, more.Â
Suddenly the lift came to a stop, bringing you out of your haze and reminding you that you needed to breathe.Â
As the doors slid opened Cassian slowly leaned away from you, though nothing more than a sheet of paper would have fit between your bodies even with the newfound distance.Â
âWanna finish what we started, pequeĂąa?âÂ
He didnât have to ask twice. The fact that the man in front of you was Cassian Andor, the person you hated almost as much as the Empire itself, who got on your nerves and never let an opportunity to show you just how inferior he thought you go by, never crossed your mind. Or at least not in the way that it should. Of course you knew that you had just made out with Cassian, but somehow it didnât bother you as much as it should. Maybe it was because the entire day he had been decent, if not even friendly, towards you, or the fact that there have been heated looks and touches all day that had seemingly only lead to this, or that you were actually beginning to like him when his mouth was occupied with something other than frowning.Â
âLead the way, Captain.âÂ
The title simply rolled off your tongue, but as you saw the way Cassianâs shoulders tensed as he exited the lift before you, you noted to use it more often.Â
As soon as the door to your suite closed behind you, Cassian turned you around, pressing you to the closed door, as his lips found yours again.Â
The kiss was less heated than that in the lift, more sensual, slower, allowing you to notice all the small details. How soft Cassianâs hair was between your fingers, the scar along the back of his head, the sharp sting as his teeth sank into your bottom lip only for it to be soothed by his tongue. And his hands.Â
Oh, his hands would surely be the death of you. They roamed all along your body, caressing and squeezing, pushing his jacket, that you still had wrapped around you, to the ground, giving him better access to your neck.Â
You couldnât help the moan that escaped you as he kissed from your jaw down your neck all the way to the beginning of your dress.Â
He leaned back a bit, making your hands fall from his hair, as he just looked at you.Â
Though a moment before you had been sure that Cassian wanted you as much as you wanted him, doubt suddenly began to creep up.Â
âWhat is it?,â you whispered into the dark room, illuminated only by the city lights outside the window.Â
Cassian shook his head, licked his lips, and shook his head again.Â
âNothing.â He stepped closer to you again, placing his hands on your waist, his thumbs slowly stroking your sides. âI just canât decide whether I want to finally take this dress off of you or fuck you in it.âÂ
The contrast between his soft caresses, his low voice, and his filthy words, made you clench your thighs together. You were insatiable when it came to this man.
âWhy not do both?â You bit your bottom lip at the possibility, at the thought of simply feeling more of Cassianâs skin against yours. âOr can you only go one round?â Your bold words shocked you, and it wasnât until you heard Cassian chuckle that you stopped wanting to take them back. From his earlier actions you had presumed that Cassian would prefer a more submissive partner in bed, and you were happy to take that role, but apparently your banter would have a place inside the bedroom as well as out of it.Â
âYou have no idea what I can do, mi duquesita.â His lips found your neck again, gently sucking on the vulnerable skin. âI donât just plan on fucking you with my cock, Iâll make you come with my tongue first. Iâll have you begging for me.âÂ
You rolled your eyes, playfully this time, as you looked at him with a smirk. You had to admit that Cassian really knew how to build tension but you wouldnât beg for anyone, anything.Â
Instead of giving him an answer your hands reached out for his shirt, beginning to unbutton it to grant you access to his skin. Cassian, for once deciding that helping you would be in his best interest, loosened the tie he was wearing around his neck before pulling it over his head.Â
Finally, you managed to rid him of the bothersome shirt, and get a good look at him. He was well-built, defined but not overly muscular. Scars littered his skin, some large, some small, as well as what seemed to be a rather new bruise. Though you knew that Cassian was in constant danger, that he had probably escaped death more than once, seeing it with your own eyes brought a sense of protectiveness over you you hadnât experienced before.Â
You lifted your hands to gently stroke across his shoulders, down his chest, lingering a little longer on each scar. You stepped closer as Cassian watched you carefully, taking note of every slight change of expression.Â
âCassian, I... youâre beautiful.âÂ
The words, maybe the truest words you had ever spoken, slipped past your lips. He really was beautiful. Not just because he was handsome, though of course he was, but because his scars told of his struggles, his dedication to the Rebellion, his willingness to risk his life for the good of the galaxy. With soft touches you stroked along every inch of his skin you could reach, hearing his breath stutter as you lips began to follow your fingers. His skin tasted different than his lips, saltier, earthier, but also truer, not altered by anything he ate or drank.Â
You placed a soft kiss just above his heart, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.Â
It was that simply action that broke the spell Cassian was under. He bent down until his lips met yours in another kiss, tongues battling for dominance, until he broke the kiss only to fall to his knees in the next instance.Â
âWhat are you doi- oh, oh fuck, Cassian,â you exclaimed as it dawned on you.Â
Cassian, on his knees and his eyes focused solely on his task, took your ankles and gently pushed them to the sides, allowing your legs and thighs to spread further.Â
âI told you Iâd make you come with my tongue,â he said with a smirk before lifting your skirt and diving underneath.Â
You could barely see him, with most of his upper body hidden beneath your dress, which somehow made it even hotter, leaving you to anticipate his next action, his next touch.Â
Gently he stroked up your legs, alternating between kissing each of your thighs, sometimes adding a little bite to the mix, until he reached your center.Â
One hand placed firmly on your waist he took the finger of the other hand to stroke up and down your covered slit.Â
âShit, pequeĂąa, youâre soaked.â His finger found your clothed clit and applied gentle pressure, which turned your insides into lava and made your knees buckle. You needed him.Â
Cassian slipped his finger, still just the one finger, underneath your panties until it rested on your skin, right on your lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the skin just above your panties, not moving his finger.Â
âTell me if you want me to stop,â he reminded you, not giving you a chance to reply before he finally, fucking finally, slipped his finger inside you.Â
The groan he let out at the contact was almost as loud as your own. He moved a bit, trying to get a feel of you, trying to resist to overwhelm you but overcome with desire to feel more of your tight, wet heat at the same time.Â
âIâll buy you a new pair,â he said more to himself than to you, and before you could ask what he was talking about you heard the telltale sound of cloth being ripped apart. Cassian had just torn you underwear from your body.Â
Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved his finger, and just as he entered your pussy his mouth came into contact with your clit, sucking once, twice, as his finger began to thrust into you.Â
You had heard talk around the rebels that Cassian had game, that he wasnât a stranger to taking other rebels to bed or even seducing informants to get what he needs, but you had never really believed any of it. Sure, maybe he had a one night stand every now and then, but so did most people in the Rebellion, you had been so sure that there was no way that Cassian Andor could be as good as the talk suggested.Â
That was until he brought you to a mindblowing orgasm within an embarrassingly short time.Â
âCa- Cass- Fuck,â you stuttered pressing your thighs against his head, trying to draw him closer as waves of pleasure swept over you.Â
Cassian hummed against your core, taking everything you would give him, still sucking your clit while his hands, though slowing down, massaged your tight walls.Â
As the last of your orgasm ebbed away, Cassian finally crawled out from underneath your dress, and looked up at you still on his knees, wetness coating his mouth, making his beard seem darker than usual.Â
âYou ready for me to make you beg?âÂ
Despite how quickly he had managed to make you come, and the fact that seeing him like that made you wet all over again, you shook your head.Â
âIn your dreams, Andor.âÂ
He chuckled as he got up, leaning close to you as his mouth found the shell of your ear.Â
âHow did you know what I dream about?,â he whispered, his hand sneaking up your back until you suddenly felt a gush of cold air against your skin.Â
Cassian had, in one smooth motion, pulled the zipper of your dress down. He looked at you, waited for your slight nod, before pulling at the fabric, making the dress fall off your body until it pooled around your ankles, leaving you in nothing but a bra and shoes.Â
âEres mas hermosa que la luz de las estrellas,â Cassian breathed against your lips. His hands found their way to your breasts, squeezing and massaging, and twisting your nipples just right.Â
âWait, Cassian, stop,â you gasped as he took one nipple in his mouth through the thin fabric of your bra, sucking in a way that made you see stars. What gave that man the right to be so kriffing good with his mouth?Â
He immediately let go of you, putting some distance between your bodies, though his hand itched to touch you again, even if just to soothe any harm he might have caused.Â
âWhat is it, pequeĂąa? Did I do something wrong?âÂ
He had tried his best to be gentle, to take it slow, not to let his desire overcome him. This was a step in the right direction and he didnât dare do anything to jeopardize it.Â
You shook your head, your hand reaching out to take Cassianâs, who let out a relieved breath.Â
âNothingâs wrong. Itâs just... Donât you want me to... You know...,â you said, suddenly shier than Cassian had ever seen you as you motioned towards the obvious bulge in his trousers.Â
Yes, his dick was aching for relief, but he knew that this might be his one chance with you and he wouldnât blow it by making this all about him and his pleasure.Â
He shook his head. âNot right now.âÂ
You raised an eyebrow, waited a moment, as if to get him to admit that yes, he did want you to get on your knees for him as he had done for you earlier. But he didnât say anything.Â
âJust lay on the bed and let me make you feel good, alright?âÂ
It was a question, nothing like the commands he usually spat out at you, and yet you followed more willingly than you had ever done before.Â
Sex with Cassian wasnât like you had imagined it, not that you had imagined it a lot, but when you heard talk around the rebels you couldnât help but imagine at least a bit. Also whenever you looked at him before he opened his mouth to snap at you, or when you caught him looking at you like he was right now, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Not to mention the instant crush you had developed after actually meeting him for the first time, one that quickly burned out after your second meeting.Â
You got on the bed, lying down still in your bra and shoes, as Cassian crawled over you, his naked chest meeting your clothed one. You didnât wait to see what he would do, instead hungry for more, you leaned up, capturing his mouth with yours, returning to the heated kisses from earlier.Â
He returned the kiss with just as much eagerness, licking into your mouth as his hands once again found their way to your breasts. Your own hands wandered across his back, relishing in the feeling of his skin, feeling every inch of softness, contrasted by rough scars.Â
Despite his earlier insistence on wanting to focus on you, Cassian couldnât help himself and began to move his hips, agonisingly slow, against yours, making your still sensitive clit rub against the fabric of his trousers.Â
Your hands found their way to his ass, using the new leverage to push him further down, to give you more contact where you craved it most.Â
âCassian, I need you,â you breathed against his lips, trying your best to hold back the âpleaseâ that sat on the tip of your tongue. You wouldnât give him the satisfaction of begging.Â
He nodded slightly, moving one of his hands from your breast to rub slow circles onto your clit.Â
Your entire body felt like fire, like ice, you couldnât focus on anything but Cassianâs hands on your body, his lips gracing your neck, his erection pressing painfully hard against your core.Â
Your hands were forced to leave his ass as he sat up on his knees, quickly pulling his trousers and underwear off in one motion, before returning to his position above you, pressing hungry kisses to your lips.Â
âAre you sure about this?âÂ
Instead of an answer you moved your hips up, giving Cassian delicious friction as his cock met your wet pussy for the first time. The moan he let out was sinful, pornographic, and you could have almost come from the sound alone.Â
You reached down, feeling his erection in the palm of your hand, giving is a few good strokes before gently placing the tip right at your entrance.Â
âShow me what you got, Captain,â you told him with a smirk.Â
Cassian bottomed out in one swift stroke, not giving you the chance for another witty remark, instead making you moan as he filled you just right. It was a stretch, but not an uncomfortable one, as if he was meant to be right there.Â
You began to move your hips, trying to get Cassian to move as well, to give you more, when he pushed you down with a heavy breath, making you halt your movements.Â
âShit, pequeĂąa, give me a moment. I need- need to-,â he groaned as you ignored his request, moving your legs this time, wrapping them around his waist, pushing him impossibly deeper into your heat.Â
Cassian looked at you with new fire in his eyes. âYou wanna play dirty?âÂ
He didnât give you a chance to respond before he pulled out, leaving only the tip inside of you, and slammed back in with newfound vigour. You didnât have enough air in your lungs to moan, to even breathe, all you could do was think that you wanted more, needed more, that maybe heâd have you begging for him after all.Â
He set a rough pace, slamming in and out of you again and again until you were finally able to adjust and move your hips in sync with his. Your hands wandered up to his head, pulling him down in a bruising kiss, biting his lips, licking into his mouth. What had started as sex, as making love almost, had quickly turned into fucking, but by the stars it brought you closer and closer to the edge.Â
As you felt yourself nearing another orgasm, needing just a little bit more to push you over the edge, you removed one of your hands from Cassianâs hair with the intent of giving some attention to your aching clit.Â
Cassian, however, quick as a whip, caught both your hands in one of his, pinning them above your head with a shake of his head.Â
âNot so fast. I told you Iâd have you begging.âÂ
You couldnât think of a reply, could barely even shake your head, with his fast pace, the way his cock hit that spot over and over again.Â
To hell with your pride.Â
âPlease, please, Cassian, make me come. I need it, Captain, I need you.âÂ
You felt his cock twitch inside of you, grinning as you had seemingly found his weak spot. Nevermind that begging was something you were usually too proud to do, especially with a man in the bedroom, if it brought Cassian that close to the edge you could use it to your advantage. Add to that your newfound knowledge of how much he liked being addressed by his title and you knew you could tease him for the rest of his days.Â
âYou fuck me so good, Captain. Please let me come,â you whispered in his ear.Â
The hand around your wrists began to shake ever so slightly, telling you just how much you were really affecting him. His other hand finally found its way to your clit, rubbing slow circles that rapidly began to increase in speed. You had him right where you wanted him, and he still thought he was the one in control.Â
âI knew youâd beg,â he grinned, supposed victory obvious in your voice.Â
You came. Your vision went white, ecstasy burned through your veins. You couldnât remember having an orgasm like this ever before.Â
Cassian continued to fuck you through it, his pace never slowing down as he began to near his own end. He began to stutter just as you calmed down, making him lose control for a moment, just long enough for you to gather all your energy and twist your bodies, making you end up on top of Cassian, who suddenly found himself on his back.Â
âWha- what are you doing?âÂ
You grinned down at him as you sat up on your knees, slowly beginning to bounce on his cock.Â
âYou didnât think I would be the only one to beg, did you, Captain?,â you asked in a sickly sweet voice before leaning down again, pressing your tits against his chest, pushing your hips down at the same time as your lips reached his mouth. âI bet you sound real pretty when you ask me to make you come.âÂ
Cassian could do nothing but thrust his hips up, unable to regain control as you clenched around him, bringing him ever closer to the edge but not close enough.Â
You continued bouncing, clenching, stroking your clit with one hand while the other was placed firmly above Cassianâs racing heart. You truly were a vision to behold, tits bouncing, face twisted in pleasure, mouth open in a silent scream. Cassian was sure that in that moment he could die a happy man, or almost happy at least, he still needed to come. The thought of releasing inside of you, of marking you where no one else would see it, made him go feral, push his hips up further, faster. And just as he was about to come, you halted your movements.Â
âYou didnât think it would be that easy, did you?,â you laughed. The hand above his heart wandered along his chest, up his neck where it came to rest. You squeezed gently, not enough to make him lose his breath, just enough to tell him that you could, to remind him that you were now the one in control.Â
You began to move again, clenching even tighter around his dick, telling him that you were about to come again while not giving him enough to join you.Â
âShit, mi duquesita, you want me to beg? Fine, Iâll beg,â Cassian grunted, no longer caring that you were using his own tactic against him. âPlease, I beg of you, let me come, make me come. Iâll do whatever you want.âÂ
The image of Cassian on his knees flashed before your eyes again. You supposed that having him eating you out once more before youâd have to leave in the morning would be enough to grant him an orgasm right now.Â
Your hand around his neck tightened, as did your walls around his cock. Your bounces became faster again, deeper, as Cassian pushed himself up to meet you halfway. Just as you felt yourself nearing another orgasm a hot rope of cum caught you by surprise, leading you to quickly give way to pleasure again.Â
Coming together with Cassian was almost poetic, your moans, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin, and heavy breathing filled the air before you finally fell down on top of him, utterly spend.Â
Your head came to rest on his shoulder, his now softening dick still buried deep inside of you. Cassianâs hand stroked up and down your back, every now and then playfully squeezing your ass.Â
âThat was...,â he began before stopping. There were no words to describe what that was. It was unlike any sex he had ever had.Â
âYeah,â you admitted, relaxing even more against him.Â
You felt your eyes beginning to drop, your breathing to even, and maybe you had fallen asleep for a little while when you suddenly felt yourself moving.Â
Opening your eyes again you realised that Cassian had carried you over to the bathroom. He put you down, holding you a moment longer to make sure that your feet would carry you, before nodding in the direction of the toilet.Â
âIâll leave you to it.âÂ
He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the bathroom, alone with your thoughts.Â
You slept with Cassian Andor. The Cassian Andor, the one you couldnât stand, who you were pretty sure couldnât stand you either, and it was good, great even. You let out a sigh as you went about your business in the bathroom, shaking your head as you flushed the toilet and grabbed a clean cloth to at least try to clean the bed enough to sleep in it tonight.Â
But as you re-entered the room you were caught by surprise once again. Cassian had stripped the bed, leaving nothing but the bare mattress, blankets and pillows. He handed you a bottle of water as you stepped closer.Â
âI think it might be best if we both sleep in my bed tonight,â he said as you drank almost the entire bottle in one go.Â
Too tired to argue, to explain why that would be a bad idea, you simply nodded your head, following Cassian to the other room and sitting down on his slightly smaller bed.Â
âDo you need anything else?âÂ
You shook your head as you sank down onto the bed, burying your head in the soft pillows. You were fast asleep before Cassian could even turn off the lights.Â
-------
The next morning Cassian woke to your soft snores next to him.Â
Though he had placed his arms around you last night, you had drifted away from him in your sleep, giving him a good view of your face. You looked younger in your sleep, peaceful, less troubled. Looking at your innocent face now Cassian couldnât understand how he could once have thought you to be an enemy, someone who only gave the Rebellion just enough to get your own gain. Over time, but especially last night, he had come to realise that he had been wrong about you. He now understood that though you didnât do as much as you maybe could, it was for a good reason, you couldnât risk gaining unwanted attention, putting everyone you laid your life on the line to protect in danger.Â
His eyes drifted away from your sleeping face towards the clock on the nightstand, which made his heart race for a whole other reason.Â
You were late.Â
Quickly he got dressed, threw the essentials into a duffle bag, and shook your shoulder.Â
âWake up, we need to catch the next ship out of here if weâre to deliver the list in time.âÂ
You blinked, lights rapidly attacking your eyes, only to see Cassian, already dressed, standing over you. It took you a moment to remember the events of last night, how you had ended up naked in his bed, but once the memories returned, so did your usual anger at him.Â
Was he really about to pretend that last night hadnât happened? Go back to business as usual?Â
Without another word you threw on your underwear, a pair of comfortable trousers and a simply blouse before taking the bag Cassian offered you and sneaking out of the room together.Â
You tried your best to act as if the man next to you was nothing more than a guard once again, putting on an act for any Imperials who might be watching.Â
âAre you leaving us already?,â the same lieutenant who had greeted you last night asked as you were about to exit the building.Â
You nodded. âThere are urgent matters I need to attend to back home. No rest for the wicked and all that.âÂ
He seemed to believe you, to not notice the uncertainty in your voice, and let you pass to hurry to the waiting speeder.Â
The journey to Yavin 4, the rebel base you had only visited once before, was uneventful. You and Cassian barely shared more than a few words, though admittedly you were always surrounded by either your staff oder Imperial border controls, which did make speaking about last night rather difficult.Â
Finally at base, having sent all but your most trusted staff ahead to Kamaanti, you turned to face Cassian for what felt like the first time in an eternity.Â
He looked at you, an expression on his face that you had never seen before. His brows were drawn, his lips pressed into a thin line. If you didnât know any better you would have said he seemed uncertain, nervous almost.Â
You opened your mouth to speak, wanting to set the tone for the conversation. On the way over you had planned it all out, you were going to say that though you didnât regret anything, and though the sex was great, it didnât change things between you, it couldnât.Â
âCaptain Andor, Mon Mothma wants to speak to you,â a Togruta woman you didnât know told him in passing.Â
Cassianâs eyes scanned your face as if to anticipate your reaction.Â
âYou should go,â you told him, trying your best not to sound disappointed. Right now you were prepared to have this conversation with him, you didnât know if youâd be as prepared later. âWeâll talk later.âÂ
With a nod and one last look at you over his shoulder Cassian made his way to give the mission report. Youâd still be there when he came back, he would only be gone a couple of minutes and it seemed as if you wanted to talk just as much as he did, you wouldnât run.Â
But âlaterâ turned into days, weeks.Â
By the time Cassian returned from the briefing you were long gone, needed for an emergency on Kamaanti, ironically the same excuse you had given the Imperial lieutenant earlier that day.Â
Cassian couldnât reach you, he didnât know how to, the only people in the Rebellion who could actually reach you were Ahsoka Tano and Bail Organa and it wasnât like Cassian could just go over to either of them and tell them that he needed to talk to you.Â
It wasnât until almost two months later that he heard from you again. He had just returned from a mission, rather short and easy compared to what he was used to, when he ran into Ahsoka on the way back to his room.Â
âCaptain Andor, there you are,â she said more to herself than to Cassian, though he still heard her.Â
âIs something the matter?âÂ
The Togruta shook her head, lekkus moving with it. âNo, everythingâs fine. The Duchess of Kamaanti was just looking for you earlier.âÂ
The words caught Cassian off guard. By now he had convinced himself that he wouldnât hear from you again, that he should put what happened between the two of you in the past.Â
âWhere is she?â He knew he sounded impatient, probably shouldnât talk to Ahsoka like this, but he needed to see you, to finally have that talk he had been waiting for for months.Â
A small smirk found the way to Ahsokaâs lips at his urgency. âShe left, she was only here to drop something off.âÂ
Cassian nodded, forcing down a sigh. Of course you had slipped through his fingers again.Â
Yet another month went by until he heard from you again.Â
Cassian was called into a meeting early in the morning, earlier than usual that is, and he was just about to close his eyes for a second, just one second, after yet another sleepless night staring at reports and mission plans, when he heard your name.Â
â-and Klieml will attend the dinner, during which there is sure to be talk.âÂ
Cassian cursed himself internally for not paying attention that very second. The meeting, though important, didnât really concern him, not when he had so many other things to do, and some much needed sleep to catch up on. What had they said? Why would they send Janna Klieml on a mission with you instead of him?Â
âBecause, Captain Andor, this is an important mission and we cannot risk either of you messing it up with that little feud of yours,â Mon Mothma said matter of factly, making Cassian realise that in his sleep deprived state he had actually asked his questions out loud.Â
Cassian couldnât do anything except nod. He could argue, try to convince Mon Mothma that he should be the one to accompany you, later when there were less people around. Though even then he had no idea how to convince her, how to explain to her that he didnât hate you anymore, probably never hated you but only your title and that it was one you actually did your best to use not only to your own, but the Rebellionâs, advantage.Â
âAs I was saying,â Mon Mothma continued. âThe Duchess will hopefully get valuable information during the dinner while Klieml will try to get General Truksâs staff to talk.âÂ
The rest of the meeting went by quickly, Cassian tried his best to pay better attention, to not let your upcoming mission consume his thoughts. But as soon as everyone else left the room he walked straight over to Mon Mothma.Â
âI think I should be send on this mission instead of Klieml. I accompanied her to the masquerade ball a while back, Imperials have already seen the two of us together, if would be less suspicious than having her show up with a new personal guard.âÂ
Mon Mothma looked him up and down, clearly trying to asses the situation, to find out Cassianâs motivation for asking for this mission.Â
âAndor,â she finally said. âWe both know that the Duchess has a big staff, multiple guards, and that it wouldnât be suspicious for her to have another guard accompany her, a female guard at that, especially to this dinner. So if you want to convince me to give you this mission youâll have to give me the real reason you want it.âÂ
Cassian, skilled spy that he was, knew that lying would be pointless. Not only would Mothma be able to see through any lie, it wouldnât get him what he wanted anyway.Â
âI need to speak to the Duchess, we have unfinished business. I also know her better than Klieml, weâve worked together before and had to come up with plans on the spot. Despite our differences weâre a good team.âÂ
He looked her straight in the eyes, not knowing whether he had given her enough to convince her.Â
âIâm going to give you this mission against my better judgement, but know that if you fail there will be consequences, not just for you, but for the entire Rebellion.â
Cassian nodded. He had anticipated that much, after all, what mission was without consequences? But if that meant heâd have the chance to talk to you, even if just to make sure that your relationship hadnât taken a turn for the worse, heâd take it.Â
-------
Cassian came to regret his decision as soon you he laid eyes on you.Â
He had been waiting in your personal library for you to show up so he could accompany you to the dining room, where you would greet your guest. Finally the door opened and you walked through. It wasnât your dress that caught his attention, though it was of course stunning, but rather the look in your eyes.
âCassian,â you said, clearly trying not to let any emotions show. Â
He didnât know what to do other than to repeat your name in the same astonished voice. He cleared his throat. Once, twice.Â
âI donât think right now is a good time to talk,â you finally said after a moment of silence.Â
âWe should talk,â Cassian said at the same time.Â
You stepped closer to him, closing the door behind you, looking the two of you into a room with nothing else but a thousand books.Â
Cassian could smell your perfume in the air, the same scent you had worn that fateful night, the same scent that reminded him of your moans, the taste of your skin. He had to get this off his chest now, otherwise he knew he wouldnât be able to fully concentrate on the mission.Â
âWe have a dinner, a mission, we-,â you stopped talking as Cassian stepped closer, as he placed his hand on your cheek.Â
He began to stroke the soft skin of your cheek, relishing the touch of your skin against his, longing to place his lips on yours once more.Â
âWe have enough time for one conversation, mi duquesita,â he insisted.Â
You nodded your head, unable to stop yourself. Deep down you knew, same as Cassian, that you needed to get this out of the way now in order to be able to concentrate during the dinner.Â
âI wont apologise for what happened on Coruscant, if thatâs what youâre looking for,â Cassian stated, making you shake your head.Â
You hadnât been looking for an apology, werenât going to issue one either.Â
You had spent countless hours thinking of your next encounter with Cassian, planning every single word ahead of time, only to now find yourself speechless in his presence.Â
âI think that maybe itâs good that it happened, that we did what we did. Maybe it was what we needed in order to release some tension.âÂ
Cassian could only nod along with your words. He had been thinking along the same lines. As soon as he kissed you for the first time all the tension, the hate, that usually floated between the two of you had disappeared. Maybe that was what your relationship was supposed to be like, heated tension building until you could release it in a physical way.Â
âMaybe we should keep it going,â you suggested, your voice wavering ever so slightly as you spoke again.Â
Though this was something Cassian himself had thought as well he was somewhat surprised to hear it out of your mouth. He gently stroked along your cheek with the hand that was still holding your face. He knew, as did you, that it would be a good arrangement, it would help you release not only the tension between the two f you that endangered neither your own lives nor the Rebellion, while at the same time giving you an outlet for all the stress said dangerous lives led to.Â
âJust casual sex?âÂ
You nodded, confirming the deal. âNothing more. Enemies with benefits, so to say.âÂ
Cassian leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours as your hands found their way to his hips.Â
âAre we enemies, mi duquesita?âÂ
His low voice and that nickname made you clench your thighs. It brought back memories you really shouldnât think about right before an important dinner. Thatâs what was so great about this, you didnât have to think of Cassian, not the way you would think of a romantic partner, while going about your day to day life, while behind closed doors you could indulge in all the sinful ways he could offer you pleasure.Â
âWeâre not friends.âÂ
A small smirk found its way to Cassianâs lips as he leaned impossibly closer, letting his breath ghost over your own lips.Â
âNo, weâre not friends,â he repeated in a teasing voice that brought a smile to your lips, the first genuine smile all day. âAnd I donât think we ever will be.â
He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, chaste and almost sweet, but the moment you tried to deepen it he pulled away again.Â
âWeâre something else entirely,â he whispered.Â
And just as you were about to reply a knock on the door and a quiet voice from the hallway told you that your guest had arrived.Â
-------Â
While a lot could be said about the dinner, it wasnât boring.Â
General Willem Trusk had recently been promoted and was now an Imperial officer of great standing, highly trusted by Tarkin, and it was rumoured even by the Emporer himself. He was also surprisingly funny and good looking for a ruthless fascist, which you had known before, this being your fourth meeting and second private dinner with him, but it shocked you every time.Â
âI must admit, there is never a dull moment with you, Duchess.âÂ
You shook your head as you lifted your wine glass to your slips, trying to hide the small smile on your lips. Sure, he was a terrible person, but he was still a good looking man your age who had just complimented you.Â
âPlease, I think weâre way beyond such formalities. I would like for you to call me by my first name.âÂ
Other than you Trusk didnât even try to hide his smile. You knew you had him right where you wanted him. It took every bit of self control you had not to glance over to the corner of the room where Cassian stood, once again wearing the uniform of your personal guard.Â
You knew Cassian would have to leave soon, to mingle with the staff Trusk had brought with him and try to get information out of them, but right now you took comfort in knowing that he was here, and that you had come to an arrangement about your relationship.Â
âYou have been kind enough to invite me for dinner twice now, I think it is about time I repaid the favour, though of course I donât have a palace as grant as yours. There is however a very nice dinner party for high-ranking Imperial officers soon and it would be an honour if you were to accompany me,â Tusk said, looking you straight in the eye while he spoke as if searching for awe in them. âUsually only spouses are allowed to accompany officers but Iâm sure theyâd make an exception for the Duchess of Kamaanti.âÂ
The words echoed in Cassianâs brain as he made his way through the servantsâ hallway to the kitchen. Another guard, an actual guard this time, had taken his place, and he was now supposed to get any information he could gather out of the Generalâs own staff. One was a pretty Twiâlek girl, one he would usually flirt with until she gave him what he wanted, but right now, whenever he thought of a pick up line or anything else to say to her, your face kept popping up in his brain.Â
He finally reached the kitchen, which was almost quiet now that dinner and desert had been served, and it only took him a moment to spot the Twiâlek girl he thought to be his best chance to get information.Â
Cassian grabbed a piece of bread and some cheese from an abandoned plate before making his way over to her. He casually leaned against the whole, breaking off half of his bread to offer to her.Â
âYou must be hungry.â Not the smoothest way to start a conversation but better than nothing.Â
But the girl just shook her head. âI was given a good dinner. The Duchess is very generous.âÂ
Cassian just nodded. He had barely managed to keep you out of his head for a few moment and yet there you were again.Â
âYouâre lucky to be working for someone as kind as she is,â the girl continued and it took all of Cassianâs strength not to roll his eyes. Of course he just had to have chosen the one servant who didnât enjoy gossip.Â
âThough if all goes to plan of course I will be working for her as well very soon.âÂ
This finally managed to catch Cassian off guard. He tore off another piece of bread, quickly chewing before asking whether she was going to quit her job with the General to come working for you.Â
The Twiâlek shook her head with a laugh that seemed genuine, almost as if she was laughing about Cassian.Â
âI meant that surely the will combine their staff once theyâre married. I supposed the General will move to Kamaanti to be closer to his wife and-âÂ
Cassian held up a hand, interrupting her before she could say anything else. His brain was working so hard there might as well be steam coming out of his ears. Were you engaged to that Imperial? How could no one have told him? Why didnât you?Â
âI had no idea they were that serious,â he finally said, trying his best to swallow the last bit of cheese despite his suddenly very dry throat.Â
She laughed again and this time the sound was beginning to anger Cassian.Â
âTheyâre not. Not yet at least, but the General is going to propose very soon. He needs a wife, all the high ranking officers have one and the Duchess is the perfect candidate. Sheâs powerful, wealthy, beautiful, and he actually seems to like her, something that cannot be said for all married officers.âÂ
She spoke matter of factly, as if expecting Cassian to already know all of this. If he really were working for you he probably would, but Imperial marriages werenât her area of expertise.Â
âRumour also has it that the General is going to be given some big secret task, so maybe he wants to settle down before that, to have someone to lean on if he is given more responsibility,â she added, and before Cassian could say anything else, try to get any information out of her regarding said task, a young servant boy entered the kitchen, saying that the General was leaving and that you were asking for Cassian.Â
-------
Cassian slammed the door shut behind him, making you jump from where you sat at you vanity, applying moisturiser.Â
You turned around, a deadly look in your eyes.Â
âYou were supposed to be here half an hour ago,â you started. âAnd donât slam doors again.âÂ
Cassian couldnât even look at you, not now that he knew that those same eyes had just looked at an Imperial as your potential husband, that those lips had smiled at him, maybe even kissed him. Rage took over his body, rage that he had worked his entire life to keep under control, and yet you somehow brought it out without saying a single word. Or maybe because you didnât say a word.Â
âWhen were you going to tell me that youâll marry him?âÂ
The words were out before Cassian could stop himself.Â
You looked him up and down and Cassian couldnât tell whether you were thinking of what to say or waiting for him to continue.Â
âI wasnât aware that my personal life was any of your business,â you finally said, getting up from your vanity and pulling on the robe that had been hanging over the chair.Â
Cassian didnât pay any attention to the soft silk adorning your nearly naked body, nor the thin pyjama that covered very little and even then was almost see through. How could you not see how dangerous a game you were playing?Â
âThis isnât personal, itâs about the Rebellion. What do you think your husband would do if he found out? Do you think heâd be merciful?âÂ
You scoffed. With slow steps you walked over to Cassian until you were standing right in front of him, your naked feet touching the tips of his shoes, your chests almost pressed together.Â
âOf course itâs about the Rebellion, what do you think why Iâm doing this? I donât love him, I donât even like him, but heâs more powerful than I could ever hope to be.â A sad smile crossed your lips. âCan you imagine the information he has? What I could get my hands on as his wife?âÂ
Cassian could. As the Generalâs wife you would have the highest ranking Imperials over as dinner guests, would be part of the inner circle and gain knowledge you simply cannot right now. The rational part of him knew that it was a good plan, and yet he disliked it.Â
He lifted his hand, slowly stroking along your cheekbone with his index finger before cupping your face in his hand and leaning his forehead against yours.Â
âPlease, be careful.â He took a deep breath, the words flowing freely from his mouth. âIâve lost so many friends, good friends, I cannot lose you too.âÂ
You lifted your hand to run it through his hair, a gesture so soft it made Cassian sigh due to the comfort it brought. He didnât remember the last time someone had touched his as gently as you did, the last time someone made him feel as at home as you did.Â
âI wasnât aware that weâre friends,â you whispered, your lips now ghosting over his own. âJust a few hours ago we werenât, and until a couple of weeks ago we were basically sworn enemies.âÂ
Cassian opened his mouth but before any words could get out you pressed your lips against his, capturing them in a heated kiss.Â
âYouâre right,â he panted as he pressed sloppy kisses down your neck, pushing your dressing gown out of the way to gain access to all the skin your pyjama showed. âWeâre not friends.âÂ
The way he said it set your whole body on fire. In the end if didnât even matter what you called yourself, all that mattered was the way Cassian made you feel with a few whispered words, with his lips and tongue and fingers. And his cock.Â
You could already feel it pressing against your lower stomach, hard and firm even through the tick material of his trousers.Â
You hadnât had the opportunity last time but now you were dying to taste him, to bring him pleasure with just your hands and mouth. You no longer wanted him to beg for you, you wanted own him.Â
Just as you were about to sneak a hand to the button of his trousers, Cassian began to suck on the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, a place so obvious and visible you would for sure have to cover it tomorrow.Â
âYouâre mine,â Cassian said, his voice loud and clear, as he leaned away to fully look at what you were sure was a hickey that would stand out for days to come.Â
His words made you clench your thighs together, you were sure that by now you had soaked through not only your underwear but also your thin pyjama shorts.Â
The way he looked at you only underlined his words. It wasnât the look of superiority and ownership with which Trusk had regarded you earlier, it was a look that spoke of belonging, of wanting to protect what was yours, of desire.Â
You didnât know what to say so you did the only thing that felt right. You unbuttoned his trousers, pulled the zipper down with a loud noise, but your hands didnât go straight to his cock, which by now you were sure must have been aching. Instead you let your hands roam free under his shirt, feeling his soft skin against yours, running your fingers over every ab and scar before settling one hand on his rapidly beating heart.Â
Cassian, whose hands had fallen to your waist, looked at you. He didnât do anything, didnât say anything, he just looked at you.Â
Reluctantly you removed your hands from his chest. You leaned up to press a quick kiss to Cassianâs lips before making quick work his the bothersome shirt, ripping it more than unbuttoning.Â
âSomeoneâs a little eager,â Cassian finally said.Â
You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, trying your best to look innocent, as if you hadnât just ripped the clothes from his back.Â
âJust trying to get a look at whatâs mine.â The words had left your lips before you could stop yourself. Only once you saw Cassianâs soft smile did you realise that you were glad you had said it. Maybe the two of you were nothing more than fuck buddies, but right here, right now, Cassian belonged to you.Â
You finally pushed his shirt out of the way and Cassian did the rest of the work, getting it off and throwing it somewhere, neither of you caring where the bothersome piece of clothing had landed.Â
You looked at Cassian, at how the soft lights in the room reflected in his eyes, on his skin, making shadows appear darker, casting him in an ethereal light.Â
You let out a breath youâve been holding, the air escaping from your lungs ghosting over Cassianâs naked chest, making goose bumps rise up in the process. You fought the smirk threatening to rise to your lips. It was a unique sort of power, knowing that you could make Cassian feel like this by something as simple as breathing. It had you wondering what else you could to do him.Â
âTake off your clothes,â you whispered into his ear, your voice as seductive as you could make it sound.Â
Cassian didnât need to be told twice. He kicked off his shoes and socks before quickly pulling down his trousers and underwear in one swift motion. Within seconds he stood before you, no clothes to hid behind, baring it all to you.Â
You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. one of your hands finding his cock at the same time and giving it a few strokes. Already you could feel precum at the tip. You wondered whether Cassian was this eager with everyone he slept with or if you really did hold some unique power over him.Â
His own hands wandered to the bottom of your top, slowly lifting it inch by inch.Â
âYour turn, mi duquesita.âÂ
But you only shook your head. You had something else in mind, and a favour to repay, he wouldnât get you naked this easy.Â
Gently, but firm, you took his hands in yours, removing them from your top and instead leading him over to a gigantic armchair in the corner of the room. This was where you usually curled up with a book, or sometimes with reports late at night when you couldnât sleep.Â
Cassian understood without needing to be told. He sat down, his knees just far enough apart to allow you to stand between them. You settled yourself on one of his thighs, leaning forward to trail kisses all over his exposed neck, up to his jaw, where his beard tickled your lips in an almost familiar way. Cassian twisted underneath your touch as one of your hands found his dick again, swirling the leaking precum around the tip and giving it a few strokes just as your lips captured his in a heated kiss. He let out an almost needy moan as your tongues met just as you squeezed his cock, a sound that you knew you would do your best to hear again and again.Â
Before you knew it you had swung one of your legs over his thigh and involuntary begun to move, rubbing yourself on his leg, giving much needed relief to your aching clit.Â
You opened your mouth in a breathless pant as Cassian removed one of his hands from your hips, where he had put them to steady you and move you along his thigh at the same time, to sneak it through the bottom of your shorts and panties to your clit. He didnât circle it like you had expected, instead he gave it a soft squeeze, almost painful but too pleasurable to really notice the ache.Â
There was nothing to be done to muffle your scream.Â
âThatâs it, let me hear you.âÂ
You continued to move your hands and your hips, your orgasm building quicker and quicker as Cassian caught one of your clothes nipples in his mouth, wetting the material with his tongue before biting down ever so softly, only to soothe it with this tongue once more.Â
In the end you werenât sure whether it was his leg beneath your pussy, his fingers on your clit, his mouth on your breasts, or the filthy encouragements he whispered that had you unraveling. There was no holding back the moans as you finished, nor did you want to hold them in, not when you could feel Cassianâs dick twitching with every sound from your mouth, with every bit of wetness leaking through your clothes.Â
âThatâs it, thatâs my good girl.â His lips ghosted over yours, barely touching, just taking comfort in sharing this moment, sharing the same air. âI bet Trusk could never make you feel like this.âÂ
And the moment was gone.Â
You sat up straight, tried your best to look as if Cassian hadnât just rocked your world, as you looked him in the eyes. There was something of defiance in them, as well as something darker, something buried deep inside, that you couldnât quite identify.Â
âWay to ruin the moment, Andor.âÂ
Your hands slipped from his still hard dick and in the next second you got up, suddenly feeling dirty and wanting to be as far away from Cassian as possible.Â
You walked over to your window, wrapped your arms around yourself, as you looked over the darkness outside. A few lamps were illuminating the park beneath your window, in the distance you could see small lights, probably servants smoking. You refused to look at your reflection, instead straining your eyes to focus on anything else, even if it was something as simple as a tree.Â
You had been so focused on ignoring Cassian, expecting him to get dressed and leave the room, that it took you by surprise when you felt warm hands on your cold body. It was only when he wrapped his arms around you, one around your waist and one around your shoulders, and pulled you against his chest that you noticed that you had in fact started to shiver in your thin pyjama.Â
âI didnât mean to offend you.âÂ
You looked at Cassianâs reflection in the window, only to see that he was already looking at you. His grip tightened as he noticed your gaze, almost as if he was afraid you would pull away from him.Â
âWe should get away from the window,â you finally said after moments of silence. âSomeone might see. It isnât proper.âÂ
You felt Cassianâs chuckle against your back before you heard it. His lips attached themselves to your neck once more, peppering soft kisses along it.Â
âNothing about our relationship is proper.âÂ
You didnât say anything. Didnât correct that there was no relationship between the two of you. Instead you looked at him, at his soft brown hair that you had run your fingers through, the small scar above his eyebrow that was probably the result of some daring tale, his beard, that had felt so good against your skin. You knew that you had never truly hated Cassian, had only ever reflected his negative feelings towards you back at him, but now you were beginning to wonder if you reflected all feelings back. Ever since you had last seen him you had thought of your relationship, of when it all went wrong after a first meeting that had left you wanting to see the handsome rebel again. You knew that something must have happened between your first and second meeting and that whatever had changed Cassianâs opinion on you had once again shifted.Â
âCassian, why donât you want me to marry Trusk?âÂ
It was a simple question, one that you thought you deserved to know the answer to.Â
Now it was Cassian who avoided looking at you. He pressed a kiss to your head before resting his forehead against your shoulder, breathing in your scent, grounding himself in the moment.Â
âI have given so much to the Rebellion,â he whispered into the dark. âAnd I was glad to give everything I had. I would give my life and do so willingly, but I wonât give you.âÂ
You turned around in his arms, forcing him to lift his head and look at you. One of your hands cupped his cheek, just holding him.Â
âI am not yours to give, Cassian.âÂ
He leaned into your touch, closed his eyes and nodded slightly.Â
âI know.â He was silent for a moment and you didnât know what to say either. After what felt like an eternity he continued. âI know it doesnât make any sense but when I first met you I thought there might be something there, something we could build on. I found myself wishing that we had met under different circumstances, in a different time. And then I got back and I found out who you were, that you carry a title that stands for everything I have spend most of my life fighting against.âÂ
You didnât know what to say. You had always suspected that your title was the reason behind Cassianâs changed attitude towards you but hearing it out of his mouth was something else, it twisted something inside you. Did he still feel this way?Â
âIt felt like a future was being ripped from my hands, a future we likely wouldnât have had to begin with. I thought that you were only helping the Rebellion to ease your conscience, tossing us a bone every once in a while to keep us hooked. And yet I couldnât help but feel drawn to you. I wanted to hate you, tried to make myself hate you.âÂ
You nodded. You had felt the same way. At first you had hoped to find a friend in Cassian but even after a short conversation you could tell that there was a chance the two of you could become something more. And then he changed, he seemed to despise you, and you tried to mirror his behaviour, his feelings, and yet you mourned for what could have been.Â
âI realised that I was wrong the night of the ball, and that I had wasted so much time in trying to hate you. Time we could have spent together.âÂ
The look in Cassianâs eyes made your insides melt. He was being honest, vulnerable, putting his heart in your hands.Â
âWe donât even really know each other. You donât know my motherâs name, I donât know your favourite colour. Whoâs to say that we would even work?âÂ
Cassian twisted his head, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist. That simple gesture, the way he made your heartbeat quicken, told you that you would burn down the entire galaxy to find a way for your relationship to work. Cassian Andor had a way of turning off the logical part of your brain.Â
âBut I know how you make me feel, how I make you feel. I know that youâre my home, youâre the one thing in the galaxy that means more to me than the Rebellion. Iâve been a fighter my whole life but with you Iâve found peace.âÂ
You stepped impossibly closer to him, removing your hand from his cheek in order to wrap your arms around him as you rested your head on his chest, taking comfort in the steady beating of his heart.Â
âWe agreed to be casual just a few hours ago, Cassian.âÂ
You breathed in his scent, relished in feeling his skin under your hands, your cheek. Youâve heard tales of soulmates, of people bound together by what you parents used to call the Force. They had grown up in a different time, in a time where it was still easy to believe in fairytales and true love, in knights guided by a higher power. You had never hoped to find what they had, the love the two of them shared, had always known that your marriage would be a political one. There was no love under the Empire, only loss.Â
And yet, maybe that was what this was between you and Cassian, maybe feeling drawn to him, knowing that you could easily love him if only you let yourself, meant that you were soulmates.Â
âThat was before I knew that I could lose you.âÂ
You thought about his words. Yes, you could marry Trusk and be out of Cassianâs reach, but you could also be the one to lose him. He risked his life every day, the scars all over his body told of how often he had only narrowly escaped death. You had seen his name on the Empireâs kill list with your own eyes.Â
âI canât promise you forever. I canât promise not to marry Trusk if itâs whatâs best for the Rebellion. But I can promise that Iâll be yours as long as the stars allow.âÂ
You lifted your head from Cassianâs chest to look at him, only to find his eyes already focused on you. He moved a hand to the back of your neck, gently tracing his fingers through your hair.Â
âAs long as the stars allow,â he repeated, whispering the words against your lips, against your neck, as his lips moved down.Â
And even if the stars, fate, the Force or whatever power controlled the galaxy were to decide that Cassian was ripped from you the very next day, at least you were allowed one perfect night together.Â
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Ok, this was honestly a mess! Not only was it my second (and first published) time writing smut, I also had no idea where the story was supposed to go and it ended kinda weird. I might one day write a part two to make up for that, weâll see.Â
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Thanks to @blue-ties-and-green-eyes for helping with the Spanish!Â
Taglist (Iâm just gonna tag everyone who liked the Sneak Peak):Â
@ducktrufflesÂ
@fandom-switch
@fanofverymanythings
@moonlightfoxs-blogÂ
@leonkennedyslefthand
@marvelbros-oneshots
@starstriker027
@queenbillie1637
@mushyluvr99
@wwesarahjaneroszko
@iovesaint
@luthienpallanenÂ
@multifandom-loser
@gothamincorrectÂ
@lunarisnightmare
@spectors-film
@brittney22Â
@beautifulfreaklawyercroissant
@hiddlebatchedloki
@jessi55555Â
@noeliaxvpelluzÂ
@skyemaria91121Â
@theblondeone-029Â
@juliette151Â
@chocogato777
@skyewardsherlock221bÂ
Iâm currently working on a Cassian Andor x fem!Reader fic and I thought Iâd give you a little sneak peak of what I have so far:Â
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With an audible sigh you reached your hand across the desk, offering it to the spy.
âTruce?â
After a moment of heavy silence, and raised eyebrows from both Ahsoka and Bail, Cassian returned the gesture, enclosing your hand in his.Â
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âIs everything alright?,â Cassian aksed, his voice slightly rough, his accent more pronounced, though you blamed it on him concentrating on securing the overly complicated clips and bows around your ankles.
âFine,â you choked out, a second too late realising that he had been talking about the upcoming evening, the mission, rather than the fact that having him on his knees in front of you did unmentionable things to you.Â
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âListen, mi duquesita, you cannot fuck with me right now. I need to concentrate if this mission is to be successful, and youâre making that damn difficult.â
Though his voice was low, his breath hitting your lips, and his entire being surrounded you in a way that could go south within seconds, you werenât intimidated.
âTrust me, the last thing I want to do is fuck with you. Or fuck you, for that matter.âÂ
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âYou have no idea what I can do, mi duquesita.â His lips found your neck again, gently sucking on the vulnerable skin. âI donât just plan on fucking you with my cock, Iâll make you come with my tongue first. Iâll have you begging for me.âÂ
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The reader is a duchess who works for the Rebellion and goes on an undercover mission with Cassian. Itâs kind of an enemies with benefits fic, though Iâm not quite sure where it will lead in the end.Â
Let me know if you wanna be added to a taglist <3
I love Matt Murdock, I really do, but I do NOT want him to be in Echo!
Echo is the first Marvel project with a Native American lead, one of few projects with a female and even fewer with a disabled lead, and while I love Matt with all my heart the Echo show simply isn't the place for him.
Instead of Matt showing up in Echo and potentially (due to fandom hype) overshadowing Maya Lopez in her own show have Maya show up in the new Daredevil series, give us their relationship in a show with an already established character, in a show that with 18 episodes has more than enough runtime to do both characters and their relationship justice.
If possible could you write a Marc Spector x reader with the mutual pining prompt. Particularly where like the reader just wants one of those absolutely bone crushing hugs or like to have weight applied to them but don't have a weighted blanket so Marc offers to help. Fluff would be preferred ~đ
Ohhh, that sounds so cute!! I hope you like it <3
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You live across the street from Marc, Steven, and Jake, you have known them for quite some time now. Well, you have known Steven for some time, met Jake maybe once or twice, and have only recently gotten to know Marc.
Steven was your friend, an incredibly handsome friend but a friend nonetheless. Jake was little more than an acquaintance. And Marc? Marc was the guy you found yourself staring at, the one whose lips you wanted to feel on yours, the one who always brought you comfort, the one you had fallen in love with over the short time you have known each other.
Marc felt bad for the way he felt about you. You were Steven's friend, his only friend other than Marc himself, Jake, and Layla, and his growing feelings for you would only complicate that friendship. And yet he couldn't help but look forward to seeing you, whether it was just from a distance when you entered or left your home across the street on when you hung out with him or Steven. He had begun to miss you when you weren't there, he missed hearing your voice, your laughter, seeing your smile.
Today, he missed you more than usual. It had been a few days since he last saw you, and even then it was only for a few minutes on your way to the bus stop. You had been busy with work, busier than usual, and your boss was being a pain in the arse, pilling more and more work onto you until you barely had enough time to eat and sleep.
Steven, who missed you as well even if in a different way, suggested to bring you something to eat, it would give them the chance to see you if only for a while and was a way of making sure you were eating.
Marc had prepared a salad, something he was sure he couldn't mess up and had many vitamins, and just as he was about to leave the flat with the bowl of salad in his hand he heard a familiar knock.
In retrospect it was very smart of him to put the bowl down before he opened the door, because as soon as he did you fell against his chest, wrapping your arms around him in a bone-crushing hug and hiding your face in his chest.
It took Marc a second to react, but he soon reciprocated the hug, holding you close to him, so close that he could have sworn the two of you would begin to melt together.
You let out a sigh. This was what you had needed, to be held, to be held by Marc.
Finally, after what felt like a way to short time, Marc let go of you, pulled you into the flat and closed the door behind you.
He let you get on the sofa, but as soon as he sat down next to you, you crawled into his lap and once again put your arms around him.
"I had a crappy day," you mumbled against his neck where your face was buried. "Just need you to hold me."
And hold you he did. Marc didn't need to be told twice, he held you close, close enough to feel your heartbeat even through the layers of clothes separating the two of you.
For the first time in days you felt at peace, nothing and no one could calm you down quite like Marc could, and one day you would tell him that. One day you would tell him that he felt like home, that you felt safe with him, that you were falling in love with him. And when you did, Marc would tell you the same. That he was at peace when he was with you, that he would always keep you safe, that you made him think he was a better man than he really was, that he had fallen for you the minute he first laid eyes on you.
Hi! Can you do one where the reader (female) has to go shopping for a dress for an event and the moon boys decide to tag along? I feel like at least one of them would get lost or wander off (maybe accident or on purpose) and where the reader would end up finding them. Thank you!
Oh my god, I'm so sorry it took me so long to write this! I swear I didn't forget, I just somehow didn't have any ideas and I wanted to at least try to do your request justice because it sounds so sweet.
Please forgive me for taking so long and I hope it was worth the wait <3
Steven Grant x fem!Reader, Marc Spector x fem!Reader, Jake Lockley x fem!Reader
Request: Hi! Can you do one where the reader (female) has to go shopping for a dress for an event and the moon boys decide to tag along? I feel like at least one of them would get lost or wander off (maybe accident or on purpose) and where the reader would end up finding them. Thank you
Warnings: google translate Spanish (I speak two languages fluently and three others a bit, but Spanish is above my paygrade)
â----
Was there anything worse than a strict dress code? You enjoyed dressing up for occasions, liked picking out a dress, matching shoes and jewelry, and doing your makeup, having your boyfriends staring at you and telling you you looked âbreathtakingâ or âgorgeousâ or âmaravillosoâ. But a dress code? What even was âblack tie optionalâ? Did you have to wear a dress or would a smart jumpsuit do? What about jewelry? What sort of makeup were you supposed to put on? Did you have to buy new shoes to match your dress or would simple black pumps do?
âYou worry too much, love. Iâm sure youâll look great no matter what you wear,â Steven tried to reassure you as you shifted through the dresses on the rack.
âEasy for you to say, you have like the perfect occasion outfit ready in the blink of an eye!â
Would red be too bold? Is black too funeral-y?
âThatâs if I even go with you,â he muttered, more to himself than to you, but it finally made you turn around, the three dresses already slung over your arm whooshing along.
âI thought weâd agreed that youâd come with me. I need you at this, Iâll be on edge the entire time and you have such a way of calming me down.â
You walked closer to where Steven was leaning against a pillar a couple of meters away and put a hand on his chest, looking up at him with huge eyes.
âStevie, you promised,â you said with a pout, slowly scratching your fingers right over where his heart was hidden underneath layers of clothes, flesh, and bone.
He shrugged, though you could tell it was half-heartedly.
âI said one of us would go. Think about it, honey, Iâm not good with strangers, do you really want me around? Wouldnât you rather have Marc in all his confident glory? Or Jake? Impress your family with a bilingual and worldly boyfriend? And neither of them have suits, at least not like the one I have.â
You sighed. You knew full well that discussing this here and now, in the middle of a crowded department store amongst all those Saturday shoppers, would be pointless.
âWe can go look at suits once Iâve found a dress, okay?â
He nodded, the relief obvious on his face. You knew that Steven loved you, and if you asked there was nothing he would deny you, but he wasnât always the best in social situations and you could never bring yourself to force him to go if it made him feel uncomfortable, even though you couldnât deny that bringing Steven in his white suit as your plus one made your mouth water ever so slightly.
âHow about you try on these pretty dresses now?â
You didnât need to be told twice. Usually you liked dressing up, feeling like a princess rather than your regular self, but trying on heavy dresses in a tiny changing room in a crowded department store wasnât exactly your idea of fun. Maybe you should have tried online shopping instead, but it was too late for that now.
With a glance over your shoulder you made sure that Steven was following you as you headed to the changing room, which for some reason was weirdly deserted, no other waiting customers or even an attendant in sight.
âIâll just be in there real quick and then we can go and get some lunch, deal?â
You turned around to look at Steven, who had already found a comfortable seat in an armchair nearby and sent you a sweet smile from there.
âTake your time, love, Iâll be here if you need anything.â
With a final nod you disappeared into the changing room, hung up the three dresses on the little hook and closed the curtain with a loud swoosh.
You peeled off your shirt and trousers, both of which were by now sticking uncomfortably to your skin in the London heat that even the air conditioning did little to soften it.
Finally your clothes were off and the first dress was on. There was only one slight issue.
âSteven, could you zip me up please?,â you called out to your boyfriend, who you were sure was still sitting where you had left him, probably on his phone by now.
To your surprise it wasnât Steven who arrived at the changing room, you could tell instantly by the way he held himself, the confidence in his eyes, and the slight twist of his mouth.
âTe ves hermosa cariĂąo.â
You shook your head. Though you were thankful for his comment, you knew that Jake liked you no matter what you wore, and thought you most beautiful with no clothes at all, so it didnât really count for much.
âThank you, but this just isnât it.â You looked at Jake, who had stepped behind you and was now zipping you up through the mirror, sure that in the same reflective surface Jake could see Steven and Marc and how they felt about this dress.
âItâs too long and I donât have time to get it shortened, the sleeves are a bit tight and Iâm not even sure if I want sleeves or should just go with something with simple straps or even strapless. And then thereâs the waist, it just looks all wrong.â
Jake shrugged. You knew that he was probably trying his best, but he simply wasnât the best guy to go shopping with.
âI think you look great.â He glanced at the mirror. âMarc wants you to try the short blue dress.â
You followed his eyes to one of the other two dresses hanging up on the hook. It was by far prettier than the black dress you were wearing now, but maybe just a bit too short for the occasion.
âI donât know, donât you think itâs a bit informal? Shouldnât I rather go with floor length?â
Jakeâs eyes flitted from you to the dress and back again. Now Jake Lockely was usually a hard guy to read, but the single look told you exactly what was going through his mind right now: The shorter the dress, the better.
âYouâre terrible, has anyone ever told you that?,â you asked, though your laughter made it seem less serious than you had intended.
Jake leaned closer to press a quick kiss to your lips, but before you could deepen it he pulled away again.
âI know, cariĂąo, thatâs why you love me.â
Now who were you to argue with that logic?
You reached behind you for the short blue dress before handing it to Jake with your sweetest smile on your lips, the one you knew none of your boys could resist.
âWould you mind looking for a dress like this for me? Same colour, similar cut, but preferably at least knee length?â
It never crossed your mind that maybe this was a lot to ask of Jake, even his confused expression didnât deter you from your idea.
âOh, and some shoes as well if you find any. Not too high and the heel not too thin, I donât want sore feet the next day.â
Jake just nodded. He took a step back, still looking at you in your once again unzipped dress. Finally, with one last dazzling smile from you, he turned around and went to find a dress.
â----
It has been almost thirty minutes since you sent Jake away to find you another dress, even if he hadnât found one he should have returned by now, empty handed and ensuring you that whatever dress you were wearing right now would be perfect.
Only none of them were. In fact they only seemed to get worse, the last one only succeeded in highlighting all the areas you didnât like and making your self-confidence disappear into thin air.
You needed Jake, or one of the others, to reassure you, to hug you and kiss you and tell you that you would find a dress that you would look and feel beautiful in.
With one last sigh you left the changing room, shouldered your purse, and went to find Jake.
You checked the armchair you had left Steven in first, but it was occupied by an old man probably waiting for his wife or daughter.
Next you searched the area where you had found the dresses you had just tried on. Nothing. Deserted. Not a single soul, not even a shop assistant you could ask whether they had seen a handsome man with dark curly hair.
With drawn eyebrows you pulled your phone out of your purse, checking if you had any messages or missed calls.
Nothing.
You were starting to worry. The store really wasnât that big, even if he had searched every corner he would have been back by now, and if he had left he surely would have at least texted.
As quick as you could you dialled the number to the phone Jake, Steven, and Marc all shared.
Once again, nothing.
With a sigh you looked around again as if one of them would appear out of thin air. You even considered asking an employee to make an announcement that they were sure to hear.
âOkay, relax, theyâre grown men, they can take care of themselves. And they have each other. Steven wouldnât let the others leave without telling me, Marc wouldnât let them get into trouble, and if they did Jake would get them out,â you mumbled as you went around the area again, pulling dresses to the side to check if maybe they were playing a prank on you by hiding between them. But of course they werenât.
With a sigh you decided to look around the rest of the store.
To your surprise it didnât take long until you heard a familiar voice, followed by a lot of laughter.
âMarc?,â you asked as you rounded a corner.
The sight was unexpected. You found your boyfriend lounging in an armchair, his back turned to you, unharmed and as far away from trouble as he could be. A woman probably a couple of years younger than your grandmother sat in a matching armchair next to him, her hand on his arm, while another woman around her age stood on the other side, and yet another woman right in front of Marc.
He turned around to face you, a bright smile on his face.
âLadies, this is my beautiful girlfriend I have told you about.â
You could feel heat rising to your cheeks at his words, which only intensified once the old ladies began to coo at you, especially once Marc reached out a hand to you, which you instantly took, and he in turn used to pull you into his lap.
âMarc!,â you shrieked, shocked and a tiny bit embarrassed by his behaviour. He was usually so reserved and now he was acting like a love struck teenager in front of these women he had just met.
âRelax, baby,â he whispered in your ear, and against your better judgement you instantly did, there was just something about him, about his voice, that made you feel at peace.
âYou are such an adorable couple!,â the woman on Marcâs left exclaimed, hearts practically visible in her eyes.
âI wish my husband was as romantic as yours, looking for a dress for you,â the one on his right added.
Deciding that the safest thing would be to remove yourself from the situation you hid your face in Marcâs neck, breathing in his familiar and comforting scent.
âActually, weâre not married,â he told them as his hand began to stroke up and down your back.
A round of shock gasps could be heard, whether they were shocked you were this close with someone who wasnât your husband or if the two of you just seemed like a married couple you didnât know.
âWhyever not?â
A nervous chuckle left Marc and all of the sudden you felt like it was your responsibility to take charge of the situation again. You lifted your head from where it was still buried in the side of his neck and looked at each of the women.
âIt was lovely chatting with you but I really do need to find a dress and we should probably check out some more shops.â
You jumped off of Marcâs lap, holding your hand out for him to take, which he did while he bid the old ladies farewell and wished them happy shopping.
As soon as you were out of earshot you couldnât hold your laughter in anymore.
âWho knew you were such a charmer?â
Marc gasped, a playfully offended expression on his face. âWhatâs that supposed to mean? Iâm always charming.â
You laughed again as you pressed a kiss to his cheek while pulling him out of the store at the same time.
âSure you are, handsome. But now how about you let me continue shopping with Steven, heâs the only one whoâs actually helpful in situations like this.
You chuckled as Marc and Jake began to fight for control, both of them telling you that they were exceptional shopping companions and that they could do much more than devour you with their eyes and chat up old ladies.
Finally they relented and gave Steven control of the body.
He looked at you with love in his gaze, he stroked a thumb across your hand, which he was still holding tight.
âNow letâs finally find you a dress, love,â he said as he pulled you into the next store.
Say what you will about dress shopping with your boyfriends, it certainly wasnât boring.
Could you do Valkyrie x reader Secret relationship
Sure thing! I love this trope for her <3
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Your dad, an ambassador for whichever country you're from, forces you to come to new Asgard with him, saying that it would be valuable family time, something you know just isn't true because from experience you know he'll spend the entire time working and you'll just be on your own.
The first couple of days are alright. You walk around town, get to see all the sights and watch the play about Thor, Loki, and Hela a couple of times while eating all kinds of different Asgardian foods.
But after a few days you start to get bored. New Asgard may be a tourist attraction, but there's only so much one can do, especially alone. So after a long and boring morning at your hotel you decide to get out and just wander about.
That's when you quite literally run into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. You're instantly convinced that she's some goddess, no mortal woman could look like that, or have arms like that.
You apologise for running into her over and over again, but to your relief she seems amused rather than mad.
The two of you start a conversation, she tells you that she lives in New Asgard and about some hidden spots you have to visit while you're there. She even offers to take you to some of those spots if you have a minute, and just as you're about to agree your phone rings. It's your dad, asking to have dinner with you, and no matter how much you want to, you simply cannot refuse.
You ask the woman if you could take a rain check, and lucky for you she agrees.
Just as she turns around to be on her way you remember that you don't even know her name.
"Brunhilde," she calls over her shoulder before disappearing in a crowd.
The two of you meet again the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that.
It's at sunset, sitting in a hidden cave, that she kisses you for the first time. It's a whirlwind romance and you find yourself falling for this stunning woman you only met a couple of days ago.
But the bliss doesn't last long.
Just a few days later your dad makes you tag along to some dinner hosted by the king, and just imagine your shock when you enter the room and find none other than Brunhilde sitting on the throne.
The two of you make it through dinner, but as soon as the opportunity presents itself she drags you into the hallway.
You're both shocked, confused, maybe even slightly hurt. And yet neither of you want to let go of the other, of what you had built together in the last couple of days, so you agree to keep on dating in secret.
It's quite exciting, running around, hoping no one catches you, sneaking into her house late at night and out again the next morning before your dad notices that you're missing.
And though neither of you want to admit it you both know that this can't go on forever.
Reality finally catches up to you when your visit comes to an end. You both agree that it is better to break up now, for both of you to return to your lives, that it would hurt less, even though you know that you've fallen for King Valkyrie the moment you first ran into her.
Back home you're feeling terrible. You miss her, miss her like crazy, and everyone around you notices that something is wrong, but no matter how they beg you to tell them what's the matter, you can't.
Valkyrie isn't any better. She can't pay attention to any meeting, can't sleep, she begins to drown her sorrows in alcohol once again.
In the end it's none other than Thor who finally catches on to her broken heart and convinces her that if she really likes you then she should do something about it. And why did the two of you even feel the need to keep your relationship a secret? Sure there would be talk, but people would always find something to talk about.
And so it happens that one of your coworkers tells you that the King of New Asgard is there to see you.
You follow your coworker, who leads you outside where Valkyrie is standing next to a beautiful winged white horse, a single flower in her hand.
"I like you, I like you a lot, and I don't know where this will go, but I know that I want you in my life. Screw all this secrecy, I want to tell everyone that you're mine and I'm yours. If you'll have me that is."
You don't know what to say, so you do the first thing that comes to mind; you run up to her and kiss her, not caring that there are people around, probably filming the whole thing.
The time for secrets is over.
Maybe Poe Dameron and the quote, âWhy do you guys hang out so much now?â Pretty please? :3
Ok, so I think the scenario I have come up with could go either way, but I've chosen to have Poe be the one to say the quote.
(I'm so sorry for the ending, btw, it kinda got away from me...)
Warnings: This contains mentions of canon-typical violence and mention of (character) death and killing
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Your romance with Poe should have been one for the history books. The two of you joined the Resistance around the same time, and the first time you laid eyes on each other you felt that spark. It may not have been love at first sight, but it certainly didn't take long for a love to build.
The two of you spent two happy years together and everyone, including you, thought you'd last forever.
But then the war began to really pick up.
Poe was sent on longer and longer missions ever more frequently while you were stuck at base, hoping, praying, that he was alright, that he would return to you. And he always did.
After each mission, but especially successful ones, you found yourself in the cantina, Poe's arm around you, listening to the stories he told. He talked about the planets he saw, the people he got to know, and the risks he took.
For some reason it never really occurred to you that those risks might one day lead to Poe being injured, or even dying. He had survived everything the universe threw at him, in your eyes he was immortal, until one day BB-8 rolled up to your work station, beeping frantically about Poe and the medbay.
It wasn't that bad, a few broken bones, a fractured rip, and a cut on his shoulder that looked worse than it actually was. Nothing a night in a bacta tank wouldn't fix.
It weren't the injuries that brought your blood to a boil but rather Poe's reaction. He didn't take them seriously, he didn't admit that he had been taking stupid risks all along and that one of them finally caught up to him. Only when he saw tears shining in your eyes did he promise to be more careful.
That promise lasted for exactly three days.
The two of you fought more regularly, always about Poe taking risks. He would insist that those risks were calculated, that he was saving lives and would always return to you. You argued that he was doing it for fame, that you couldn't concentrate on your work, couldn't eat or sleep, when you knew he was off on some mission and could be lying dead on some random planet. He didn't take your worries seriously, kept trying to talk you out of them, and that's when you realised that maybe you would be better off alone.
The first weeks after the breakup were rough.
Poe went on more and more missions, barely going more than a day or two in between. You could count on one hand how often you had seen him since you broke up with him that fateful night.
But you slowly began to feel better. You still loved Poe, knew that a part of you would always love him, but you realised that you could live a life without him.
You went out more again, spent more time with friends, and months after the breakup you met someone new.
He wasn't a pilot but a mechanic, someone who would be on base most of the time, who wouldn't take risks and was careful by nature.
You didn't have a name for what the two of you were just yet, but you hung out alone more often than not, spent your nights just talking underneath the stars, shared a few kisses.
And you thought that maybe you could learn to love someone who wasn't Poe Dameron.
While you slowly found happiness again, Poe fell deeper and deeper into despair.
At first he had thought that once he returned from the first mission after the breakup everything would return to normal, you'd both apologise and would go on the way you always had.
But then you refused to even look at him every time the two of you crossed paths.
It took him a while, took a few near death experiences and a couple of good pilots not making it, for him to realise that maybe you had been right. He finally tried to be more careful, telling himself before each mission that he'd just have to get through this and then he could ask you to be his again. In his mind it wasn't as much a breakup as a break until he got his head right.
Now imagine his surprise when he heard talk around base that you had moved on.
There was no label on what you and the mechanic were, many thought the two of you were just friends, but Poe had to know, asking you was a risk he would have to take, even if it led to a broken heart.
So one night he gathered his courage and knocked on your door.
You opened it without thought, expecting a friend or one of your superiors. But to your surprise it was none other than Poe Dameron.
He didn't give you time to speak before he asked a question you knew would haunt your dreams.
"Why do you guys hang out so much now?"
You knew that he was really asking if you had moved on, if you loved the mechanic like you had loved Poe once upon a time.
You invited him in, told him to sit down.
The room was familiar, it was the same room the two of you had shared when you had been together, and it broke Poe to imagine you in this room, in this bed, with someone else.
You could basically feel the hurt and worry radiating off of him, so you told him everything. How you had been hurting, how you had tried to move on, how you had finally found a way to be okay with Poe leaving and risking his life every other day.
What you didn't tell him was that you still loved him, that he held a piece of your heart in the palm of his hand that could never belong to another.
But as Poe begged for another chance, told you that he was sorry and that he loved you over and over again, you managed to be strong, to not give in.
It was for the best. You couldn't spend your entire life worrying about Poe, and he had to concentrate on killing bad guys and not getting killed in the process without being distracted by thoughts of you.
"Let's talk when all this is over, okay?"
Your words reassured Poe a tiny bit, told him that there was still hope and that maybe he hadn't been replaced by the mechanic.
You shared a kiss full of longing, love, and hope. A kiss that was supposed to signal a new chapter in your relationship, even though you wouldn't read it for some time.
Neither of you had expected it to be your last kiss, because only days later the First Order found your base while most squadrons were away on missions, leaving you with little to no defense, and killed everyone inside.
Poe returned days later, only to find you dead in the bed the two of you had once shared.
Yes! This trope is perfect for Rex! The angst, the yearning!
And if youâre interested in more friends with benefits with Rex, I also wrote this a while ago
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You're a Padawan, Obi-Wan's Padawan to be exact. He took you under his wing after your former Master died just months before you were supposed to ascend to Jedi Knight, only now your grief has pushed you back in your training.
You like Obi-Wan, but he just doesn't get you the way your former Master did. He especially keeps talking about attachments are forbidden, something you've always struggled with.
And then you met Captain Rex.
The 501st is supposed to work on a mission with you and the second your eyes land on the Captain you feel drawn to him, a pull you simply cannot explain.
It isn't until after the battle is won, when you're all out celebrating, that the tension boils over. You kiss in the crowded bar, hidden in a corner, then you make out, then you manage to sneak him into your room in the temple.
The next morning you wake up in his arms, feeling content and happy for the first time since your Master died. But when Rex wakes up you panic, you tell him that last night didn't mean anything, and he reluctantly agrees.
Until you find yourselves in the same situation again.
And again.
And again.
Finally you agree to make it a regular arrangement, no attachments.
Needless to say it doesn't really work. It doesn't take long for the two of you to have actual conversations before you shove your tongues down each others' throats. You realise that Rex is brave, strong, kind, and he learns the same about you. Soon you're not just fuck buddies, but actual friends.
And then the feelings set in.
One rainy night, after the two of you have just finished, Rex canât stand keeping his feelings secret anymore. He tells you that he loves you, that he wants more than a casual thing.Â
And you freak out. You tell him that you donât feel the same, tears streaming down your face because you know that youâre lying, everything inside you screams for you to tell him that you love him.Â
Rex leaves. He wants all or nothing, while you were content with just having part of him rather than nothing at all.Â
Obi-Wan notices that youâre down, and then he realises that you look at Rex the same way Anakin looks at PadmĂŠ. He of course questions why he always has to deal with love struck Padawans, but finally he seeks you out, talk to you, tells you that he, the entire order, may be wrong about the whole attachment issue.Â
As soon as he finishes you find the next shuttle and leave, arriving at some backwater planet just as the 501st is about to leave. You see Rex from a distant, feel the inexplicable pull towards him once again, and you run.
Through the rain you run up to him, right into his arms. He pulls you close, and as you lift his helmet he can see the love in your gaze.Â
You tell him that youâre sorry, that you were lying earlier, that you love him.Â
Rex doesnât hesitate for a moment. He kisses you, glad to finally call you his (and that none of his brothers are around to witness the scene).Â
I just noticed that I have hit 350 followers!! Thatâs insane, thereâs 350 people out there who like my stories enough to follow me for more!Â
As a little thank you I have come up with an idea:Â
Send me a trope OR a quote and a character and Iâll write an outline for a fanfiction (reader insert only) including that character and trope/quote.Â
Characters I write for:Â
- MCU charactersÂ
- X-Men charactersÂ
- Star Wars charactersÂ
- Santiago Garcia (Triple Frontier)Â
Tropes might include:Â
- Friends to loversÂ
- Enemies to loversÂ
- Only one bedÂ
- Forced proximityÂ
- Mutual piningÂ
- Friends with benefits
- Secret relationshipÂ
- ...Â
Quotes might include:Â
- âIf we get out of this alive Iâll take you on a date.âÂ
- âPlease donât leave me.âÂ
- âWill you marry me?âÂ
- âI hate you.â âNo you donât.âÂ
- ...Â
Requests will open today (8 July 2022) and close one week from now (15 July 2022).Â
I will start writing once the the requests close (because thatâs the day the semester ends and I still have exams til then).Â
How the Moon Boys react when you send them a spicy picture (Fem!Reader edition)
Steven Grant x fem!Reader Marc Spector x fem!Reader Jake Lockley x fem!Reader (The male!Reader edition is coming soon, but since Iâm still busy with uni and I want to do it justice it might be a while)
Warnings: Lingerie, mentions of masturbation and a vibrator, allusions to sex, (PiV), drinking mentioned (though never specified whether it is alcohol)
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Steven Grant
Ever since Steven had mentioned how much he liked receiving pictures from you you have started to send more and more of them. And Iâm not only talking spicy pictures here, more often than not youâd send him a pic of the salad you were eating for lunch, the new popcorn you had just picked up for your next movie night together, or a cute animal you saw in the tree outside your office.
But on bad days, the days where Steven called you during his lunch break and the sound of his voice told you that Donna or some costumer had walked all over your sweet boyfriend, you send him a picture of yourself. Sometimes an old selfie of just you or the two of you together to remind Steven of better times, sometimes a snapshot of you at work, at the store, or wherever else you happened to be.
And oh boy, today was a bad day. You had the day off from work to meet up with some old friends who were visiting London for a day and were currently doing dishes before getting ready to go out when your phone lit up with a message from Steven. Though Marc and Jake used the same phone as well you could always tell when it was Steven texting you, there was just something about the way he worded his texts that made his voice shine through more than should be possible with a few simple letters.
I canât call you during my break today, love. Donna has put me on inventory again and unless I wanna stay the whole night Iâll have to get started. Love you, miss you <3
That just wouldnât do, you quickly decided. After shooting him a quick reply and finishing the dishes you headed over to your wardrobe to pull out what you liked to call your âsecret weaponâ, a dress you knew would drive Steven wild, one that showed just a hint more cleavage than you usually wore. In a hurry you stepped out of the pair of your boyfriendsâ shirt and boxers you had grabbed in the morning and rummaged through your drawer to find a matching set of panties and a bra.
Is this too much?, you texted Steven, accompanied by a picture of you in front of the mirror in the dress with your hair pulled up.
Or maybe too little?, you followed just seconds later, not giving Steven time to reply. The picture you sent this time was, in your own opinion, among the best you had taken of yourself. A hint of your arse was visible in the mirror, not at all covered by the white lace tanga you had chosen, but the highlight was the bra. You knew that Steven, most of your boyfriends, was a boobs-man, and you knew that he had a particular fondness for the bra you had chosen to wear. Just like the tanga it was white, mostly lace with a bit of satin, a tiny bow rested right between your breasts, which were covered not only in lace, but also small glittery stones that caught the sunlight streaming. The two satin straps that ran across your tits only highlighted your assets, made them seem bigger, rounder, and sexier. A proud smile settled on your face as you pulled the dress over your head again before setting out to do your makeup.
It took Steven a while to reply, he was probably busy with inventory and Donna rarely gave him a chance to check his phone, but once he finally answered the wait had been worth it.
Love, my love, my darling, my gorgeous girl. You look amazing. I love the dress, itâs stunning, his first text read.
 A smirk grew on your face as you realised that he had probably not seen the second picture yet.
No!
 Bloody hell
Are you trying to kill me?
Honey
You look bloody amazing
 Is that what youâre wearing to have tea with your friends?
 I canât stand being stuck at the other end of town knowing youâre wearing that
What have I done to deserve you?
Okay, maybe you were a little bit cruel for making Steven suffer at work, but you knew that it gave him something to look forward to in the evening, and ensured that he would get the sweetest of rewards once he came home to you.
Marc Spector
Marc had been gone for days, and of course you missed him, you missed all of them, but it wasnât just that. You werenât exactly proud to say it, but you were incredibly horny, and even your trusty vibrator, all the tricks you had perfected before you meeting your lovely boyfriends, didnât help. So finally, out of pure need and desperation, you texted Marc at exactly ten minutes to midnight.
Are you still up?
It didnât take him long to reply with a simple yes. You knew that when your boys went out on a mission it almost always went the same way: Marc fronted for most of it, barely sleeping, only eating when necessary, and most definitely not drinking enough water. Steven fronted when his help was needed, mostly meaning his brain but sometimes heâd be a secret weapon in a fight as well. And as for Jake, he usually stayed put, only fronting in emergencies or when he knew that Marc or Steven needed a break. That being said you knew that it was Marc who would answer your text before you even send it, and you knew just bow to get Marc to do what you want him to do.
I miss you, you continued, step by step planning how to get Marc to his breaking point.
I miss you too, baby. Iâll be home before you know it.
You shook your head as you reread his message. Nope. Not good enough.
Marc, I need you.
Now that usually worked, only of course today of all days it didnât. I have a little friend here, but he just canât do what you do. You knew that Marc would be able to tell that you were referring to the vibrator he had used on you on several occasions, but still your boyfriend remained stoic, probably opting not to answer your texts until the next morning, until you were being more reasonable.
âAlright, Spector, you asked for it,â you whispered to yourself as you opened the camera on your phone and got into position. You could practically see the scene in your head. Marcâs phone would buzz again, heâd glance at it for a second, probably already sure heâd ignore it, when he saw it was a photo from you. Finally heâd be tempted enough to open it. You knew that the moment he laid eyes on the picture, on you in what used to be one of his favourite shirts until it had shrunken in the wash, now making it barely bigger than a sports bra, laying on your stomach on his side of the bed with your arse arched into the air and only a thin bit of cloth covering your nether regions, heâd run a hand through his hair.
âBaby, do you have any idea what youâre doing to me?,â he asked as soon as you answered the phone, his distress and need obvious in his voice. You bit your lip as you shook your head, a sly grin on your face. âI really donât. But why donât you tell me what youâd do to me if you were here right now?â As Marcâs voice picked up again your hand drifted to your vibrator, hoping that with the help of Marcâs voice the little device would work wonders once again.
Jake Lockley
You knew that sending Jake a spicy picture of yourself never ended well for you. You had tried it only once and had spent the entire following day in bed, not feeling your limbs even after hours, and the rest of the week walking funny. Jake had simply been insatiable that night and as much as you had loved it, it wasnât something you could just repeat casually. So you never send Jake any pictures. But that didnât mean that you never took any.
âJust continue to swipe through the photos, Iâll get us something to drink,â you said as you got up from the sofa, leaving Jake alone with your phone and the photos you had taken during your recent girlsâ trip with your friend.
You returned just a minute later, only to find the smile on Jakeâs face replaced by an unreadable expression.
âIs everything alright?,â you asked as you set the glasses and the bottle on the table. Instead of simply answering your question, Jake turned the phone around to show it to you.
âCare to explain, princessa?â
Heat rose to your cheeks.
âItâs just a picture, no big deal.â You knew full well that it was more than just any picture, it was a picture of you sitting on the windowsill at your air b&b, your face barely facing the camera, tight black jeans highlighting your thighs and hips. Oh, and the oversized shirt you had borrowed from your friend was unbuttoned, leaving your skin on display with only a tiny black lace bra covering your breasts where the shirt had fallen open.
Jake didnât say anything for a while. He handed the phone back to you and took a sip of his drink.
Though you had gotten better at reading Jake, it was still difficult and tonight was one of those nights you had no idea what was going on in his head, all you knew that the man sitting next to you was still Jake, even without words the way he held himself gave him away.
âWhy?,â he finally asked. âWhy did you take that picture? You didnât send it to me, not Steven or Marc either. Is there someone else? Did you take that picture for someone else?â
Your eyes widened in shock. The possibility that Jake would come to that conclusion hadnât even crossed your mind. Did he not see how much you loved him, loved all of them?
âJake, no! No, no. Baby, no. Thereâs no one else, I swear. Itâs just... I told you that my friendâs boyfriend broke up with her a couple of weeks ago, and she was feeling bad about herself, wasnât feeling beautiful, and confident, and sexy anymore, so I thought a sexy photoshoot would show her just how stunning she is, and in return she wanted to take a couple of pictures of me as well.â
You reached for his hands and lifted them up to press gentle kisses to each of them.
âI forget about them, to be honest, didnât think they were even worth sharing with you guys, there are better pictures. But Jake, you, Steven, Marc, youâre the only men in my life, the only ones I would ever send spicy pictures of myself.â
Finally his gaze lifted again, his eyes met yours. Though you knew that there was still some doubt deep in his heart, some part of him that didnât dare believe that you actually loved him, a smile played on his lips.
âTe amo, princessa. I love you more than any words in any language can describe.â
You let go of his hands to unite your lips in a sweet kiss instead. âTe amo, Jake.â
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Okay, so the Jake part went way off track, but heâs usually portrayed as this tough guy and I just wanted to show a more sensitive and sweet side of him.
I don't usually voice my political opinions on this blog, but today I feel the need to do so anyway.
I don't know if you know this, but I'm German, and yesterday morning I saw that our government has finally voted to cross off paragraph 219a, which forbids "Werbung fĂźr SchwangerschaftsabbrĂźche" and basically means that advertising abortion in any way is forbidden by law, including simply stating that a doctor practices abortions on the website.
That same day, in the evening, I read what had just happened in the USA, and it shook me to the core. Not only because the supreme court took away women's rights to control their own bodies, their own lives, and thereby actively endangered women's lives and mental health, but also because it is such a stark contrast to what happend in Germany on the very same day.
Now I'm not saying that Germany's abortion laws are good in any way, we still have a very long way to go and abortion is heavily restricted here, but as of yesterday my country has taken a step in the right direction, something that liberals and leftists have been asking for years, while the US, one of the most influential countries on this planet, has shown once more how little they care about minorities, that they are the land of the free only for those who belong to a very small group, and that they do not value live as much as their own twisted morals.
This whole thing feels like a one step forward and two steps back situation, and my heart broke and continues to break for all those people who no longer have the right or even the opportunity to make such a fundamental decision.
I really don't know where I'm even going with this, but please, whatever you do and wherever you are, be careful and try to make your voice heard in any (safe) way you can, and remember that it can get better, that sometimes fighting and arguing about a small paragraph for years can lead to something, that this is our future and this world will one day belong to us.
I watched Triple Frontier for the first time the other day, and of course I just had to start writing for Santi afterwards...Â
This is a sneak peak for the story Iâm working on. It doesnât have a title or a real summary yet, but itâs a bodyguard romance/friends to lovers/age gap/mutual pining type of thing.Â
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âWhat is this, 20 questions?â
Without even looking at you a soft wet sound told Santi that you had pulled your lip between your teeth and bitten down on it. He tried to avert his thoughts, tried not to think of your plump lips, or your legs in the shorts you were wearing earlier, or even the simple white t-shirt you had now on, underneath which he could see a hint of your bra. These thoughts were not just inappropriate, but plain wrong. You were someone he was supposed to protect, making sure you were safe was his job, an assignment that could easily lead to a promotion and a pretty sweet raise. And you were younger than him by at least ten years, he should not be thinking of your lips, your legs, your breasts hidden underneath a probably sexy bra under that damn white shirt.
âUsually Iâd say no, âcause I hate 20 questions, but seeing as neither of us know anything about the other it may be a good idea, donât you think?â
Ever so slowly, Santi nodded his head. Maybe this really was a good idea, after all, if he kept you entertained you might tell your dad that he was a good guy, which would only help the promotion. It didnât have anything to do with the fact that he wanted to get to know this beautiful girl sitting next to him, who was already way more fascinating than he had anticipated. Nothing at all.
âSo, where are you from?â
âA small town in Florida, you wouldnât know the name,â he said. Pictures of his home town instantly appeared in his mind. His friends from school, the girl he had his first kiss with, his mum and abuela in the kitchen.
âFlorida sounds nice, though I couldnât imagine it being hot all year around. Have you ever seen snow?â
The obvious interest and curiosity in your voice pulled at Santiagoâs heartstrings more than he wanted to admit. You werenât just being nice, you really wanted to know the answers, and he really didnât want to give them to you.
âNo, no, no. Itâs my turn, those are the rules,â he said, trying to think of a question that would be polite without being too personal, finally settling on one he was actually interested in. âWhy ancient history?â
He had expected a simple answer, something like âit caught my interestâ, not the fifteen minute long monologue you fell into. You started talking about how you had a fascination with ancient Egypt when you were younger, then studied Latin in school, learned about different mythologies in your free time, travelled Europe and Asia after graduating from high school to see all those ancient ruins with your own eyes and visit the worldâs top museums, all while sprinkling in some facts Santiago couldnât even begin to understand.
âIâm rambling, arenât I? Iâm so sorry, once I get started on something Iâm interested in it's hard to stop, you need to tell me when Iâm boring you.â
Though your request seemed earnest, to his surprise Santi found himself shaking his head.
âItâs actually really interesting. I donât know much about history myself, but you seem to know⌠Is there anything you donât know?â
Out of the corner of his eye, wishing desperately that he could turn away from the road to really look at you, Santi saw you looking down at your feet, probably to hide the soft smile on your face.
âThank you, Pope. By the way, whatâs your real name?â
If it werenât for his quick reflexes Santi would have stopped the car right then and there in the middle of the freeway. His name. Such a simple question, usually the first question people asked someone they just met, and yet a question he knew he couldnât answer. Not with the way shivers went down his spine every time you called him by his codename, if a simple âPopeâ could make him feel like this, what would it be like to hear his actual name rolling off your tongue? But it wasnât just that, not just the attraction to your voice on top of your looks and intriguing character, Santi also knew that as soon as he told you his name, everything would become real. This whole thing would be less of a job and more personal, heâd start to read into every little interaction, start to care for you, and he couldnât have that.
âMy name doesnât matter.âÂ