#THE VERY UNIVERSE ITSELF PRESSING HIM TO BE THAT AND HIM DENYING THAT PART OF HIMSELF FOR AS LONG AS POSSIBLE UNTIL IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Do i adore the people around Mk telling him to embrace his monkey side and to be okay with it and that he’s going to need to use it and even the battle itself pushing him to unleash it and when it finally comes out despite him trying so hard to suppress it we get him accepting the fact its out and part of him now with a terrifying: “well alright then”?

YOU BET I DO THAT’S A BANGER

[verspia]

Hi!! I would like to request a Kenan × jealous reader. The story can be however you like with whatever genre as long as they have a happy ending <333

THE BOY IS MINE • KENAN YILDIZ

( pairing ) kenan yıldız x reader

i’m so sorry i’ve been pretty inactive recently but college has been rlly busy atm! i’ll get to all your requests and write them as soon as i can!

this is literally the perfect request because i’ve been listening to the boy is mine nonstop and it fits the vibe yk?

If there’s one thing about you that’s commonly broadcast, it’s that you are the jealous type. Not jealous in the sense that you envy what others have, but rather it drives you up the wall when something that is yours is toyed with by another person.

The more accurate term would be possessive, and there’s no denying that you tend to get… territorial when it comes to Kenan.

Truly you can’t be faulted for your avaricious behaviour because Kenan is the sort of individual that can’t help but draw everyone’s eyes to him, and along with it, the desire of a plethora of girls.

It fuels you with an ugly sort of pride that you have what other girls can only dream off, a sharp glint of emotion that is slightly cruel and substantially domineering.

Another part of you feels enraged at the thought of anyone else besides you thinking of Kenan in ways that only you, in your opinion, should be capable of.

It’s not that you aren’t secure in your relationship, rather Kenan makes you feel as if you’re the only girl in the world. He goes out of his way to make you feel special, cherished even, and there’s more than enough clarity that proves, to Kenan, you are the only girl in the universe.

He always has you on his mind, in interviews he manages to mention you in some way or another, and even his celebrations are often dedicated to you. His online persona itself shows this, with you being the only girl in his following, and him being the first to comment and like your posts. Although you two aren’t very public, he has managed to get the point across that he’s yours, and some even say that he seems to orbit around you.

Nonetheless, there are consequences that happen when you’re in a relationship with a famous footballer who’s not only massively talented but also incredibly handsome.

This means that more often than not, some girl will be deluded enough to think she can rub her grubby hands on your boyfriend and blink her abnormally large eyelashes at him and have him wrapped around her nasty little finger.

You’re being harsh, but the green monster inside of you called envy is vicious, and well, Kenan is yours.

You watch with thinly veiled rage as the supposed interviewer brushes Kenan’s arms for the umpteenth time, giggling as she shuffles closer to him, and the next action makes your blood boil, pressing herself on to him.

It’s clear to anyone, in fact even a blind man would be able to tell that your boyfriend is uncomfortable. Kenan’s face is contorted into a permanent grimace that this interviewer seems oblivious to, and from where you’re seated, you can tell that even the camera man has grown to notice the awkwardness that permeates him.

Yet no one does anything, and you feel yourself begin to frown, you can’t help but think, “Is this not workplace harassment?”

Her movements carry a subtle confidence that makes you scoff, but it is evident that she’s clearly unbothered by the lackluster response from Kenan, and seems to show no intention of backing off despite the younger man’s obvious discomfort.

You remain seated, even though you desperately want to run up across the field and rip that interviewer into shreds.

You don’t want to cause a scene, but your patience snaps when she brushes away a strand of hair on Kenan’s face, who’s grimace has now turned into a scowl. Her gaze on him is predatory and you know if it was directed at you from a man, it would make you shiver in disgust.

You stand up, marching down the bleachers and across the freshly cut grass with determination, having had enough of this absurd behaviour.

As you make your way to them, the interviewer makes eye contact with you and you notice a glimmer of smugness flash behind her eyes, but underneath it, her expression bubbles with an annoyance that infuriates you.

Her intentions are clearly anything but innocent but the smile she flashes your way seems to mimic it with expertise. It’s so evidently fake, the sweetness on her face is overpowering and a far cry from the sultry tone she’s had the entirety of this interview, from what you’ve observed.

You have never felt more inclined to slap a person than now, but you keep yourself in check, if this girls wants to get bitchy? Well, you’ll show her bitchy.

Kenan’s expression, on the other hand, brightens at your presence, but his eyes widen a little when he spots the aggression behind in your eyes. The smile on your face is as ingenuine as it gets but before he can say anything to appease you the interviewer opens her mouth.

“Hey… We were just talking about you.” Her voice floats out and it drips with sugar, in a way that makes you want to vomit, your ears cringe as if you’re hearing nails on a chalkboard.

“Oh were you now?”

“Yeah I was just telling Kenan how nice it must be to have a girlfriend who doesn’t seem to care about what the public thinks!”

The backhanded compliment is abrupt and strange, and you’re confused, is that really the best she could come up with?

You almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

One moment this girl is boldly rubbing herself on your boyfriend and the best she can say to you is this?

You’re about to retaliate with a response but then smirk as an idea crosses your mind.

You don’t leave Kenan even a moment to blink or process the situation, even the interviewer and the Camera Man are stunned, as well as the millions of viewers watching the live stream.

Your hand reaches out to grab the collar of Kenan’s jersey, your actions reckless and abrupt, as you grab him closer and pull his head down to yours.

A gasp escapes his mouth as he stumbles a little, surprised and taken aback at your actions, but responds in kind when your lips meet his.

Kenan’s reaction makes it seem like he forgets the events that lead to this moment entirely, melting into you as you cradle his head.

It seems as if you two are lost in another world, just the two of you as everything around begins to blur. You press closer to Kenan, softly kissing him as he responds to your actions just as gently, both of you exhibiting emotion that spells love.

You move your mouth against his, trying to show your adoration to the man in front of you, forgetting the purpose of your actions in the first place as you feel his arms wrap around you.

You begin to lose yourself in his touch, his kisses have your mind feeling hazy and stars cloud your eyes as you sigh into the kiss.

Your whole form begins to turn into puddle, and your mind only seems to echo the singular thought that crosses your mind primary when he’s touching you.

Kenan. Kenan. Kenan. Kenan. Kenan. Kenan.

Like a mantra.

All you can focus on his touch, his hands, his lips, only him.

The same effect seems to reflect on him, as Kenan seems equally as dazed, kissing you fervently like a starved man, as if you’re the first drop of water in an isolated desert.

Kenan drinks you up eagerly, holding you tightly.

You only break apart at the purposeful cough from the interviewer, and you realise where you are.

It takes you a moment to gather yourself and remember what your original motives were, and then a smirk graces your swollen lips.

“Is that right Kenan? Your girlfriend doesn’t care about the public eye” Your voice is smug and sarcastic, filled with pride and the interviewer seems embarrassed, put off by your very public display of affection and the clear response to her supposed insult.

It’s comical to see the snobbish expression on her face be replaced by a look of mortification.

“Huh” is the only reply he offers, and you can only smile at the boy who still seems to be processing the aftermath of your very steamy kiss.

His cheeks are flushed red and his hair is tousled. The look on his face extinguishes all your previous agitation at the moment the interviewer had touched it.

You beam at him, and it’s more than clear to perhaps the whole world now that Kenan is yours, and only you can make him feel and look like this.

You turn back to the interviewer, “Oh! I must’ve gotten distracted, I just came here to say… wait! what’s your name? oh nevermind, I just wanted to say I admire your confidence, walking around like that! Now is the interview done? I’d like to… speak to my boyfriend about something private.”

The interviewer looks even more flustered than you’d have thought possible, and if you were a nicer person, you’d have felt the tiniest bit of sympathy, or atleast pity, for her, but all you feel is a surge of self satisfaction as you watch her mutter something about wrapping up and squaddle away from the two of you.

Once she’s finally disappeared from your sight, you turn to Kenan, who still seems a little astonished, and you can’t help the fondness in your eyes as you run your eyes over him.

He catches the look and his cheeks grow warmer, but he reaches out to cradle your hand, concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Confusion rises in your eyes as you look at him, “Me? I should be asking you that, someone from a mile away could tell how uncomfortable she made you.”

Kenan shook his head, “Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself, I’m a big boy you know” His voice is teasing and you chuckle at him.

“Seriously though, she just wouldn’t take a hint and I didn’t want to be impolite.”

You shake your head at him, tugging his hand a little as the both of you begin to walk out, “I could tell, but I guess we gave her a little show”

Kenan smiled at you, pulling you close as one of his arms comes to rest at your waist.

“Oh you gave her a show alright,” He whispers affectionately, “But i’m glad you did, I don’t mind letting the world know i’m yours.”

You can’t help but blush at his words, your heart flutters wildly in your chest and it’s insane how despite being together for so long, Kenan still has this effect on you.

“Mhm I don’t mind either” Your voice takes on a coquettish edge, as you lean over, your face only inches away from his.

Kenan’s hands wrap around your hips as he grins at you.

“Trust me I know.”

“I should just post a picture of you and I and caption it the boy is mine.”

liked by kenanyildiz_official and others

ynusername - the boy is mine.

comments

kenanyildiz_official - only yours 🤍

user09 - that kiss on live television wasn’t enough girl

↪️ user86 - nah she’s letting yall know that’s HER man

user12 - nah tbf i would’ve done the same if my bf looked like that

user3 - yooo we get it bro

user96 - the second slide??? bro calm down ain’t nobody gonna take her from you

user916 - plss you ended that interviewer with the “what’s your name”

↪️ user1 - lmaooo i would never show my face again

↪️ user123 - i just know she’s crying seeing this post

user - WHATS 4 + 4

user22 - damn.

user0 - yall need a third? pls pls pls 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

fin.

[seth-shitposts]

Fbdkdbrkwdhrk3jdneknrjfhfd YALL it's been too long since I've touched a word document. Dbkdndndncbf

Anyways, I'm still heavily thinking about SoFS&V, in particularly Poison & The Grand Inquisitor. As well as Wasted Potential & Minister Tua. Ramblings below the cut-

Grand Inquisitor:

Having to do with how much he had dipped to the dark side of the force in pursuit for answers to questions unsatisfied.

I'm going to be characterizing him and his backstory in a very specific way for this au, and part of that will include how he obsessively wanted to learn more about the force, and try and find out why he had been chosen by the universe itself to have this connection that he has such a difficult time comprehending. He knows he's different in many ways, unsavory, and it's not in his control to try and feel things the way others do, so why was he chosen despite the way he seems to have been wired since the beginning.

Unable to find an answer that he understood, he began to want to press further into the archives, but was repeatedly denied. After so many straws were lost with the order, he embraced the twisted distortion of the darkside to finally try and get his answers.

And now that he's having to attempt to reverse it, it's proving to be just as challenging as he expected it to be. There's just, something different now. Something he didn't quite have in the order, where he felt like an outsider; something he didn't have nor didn't think of ever needed among the inquisitorius. A year ago, it's something he would have scoffed at, even now he has the urge to recoil from it yet still wants to allow himself to soak in it to the point of drowning himself in it.

It's so much easier to stay; he's well aware of the endless agony he submits himself to, but it's something he knows like the back of his hand and *understands*.

To return to the light though? The fact that, even with the work he has to put into dragging himself back, that the force is still calling to him for a welcoming return? Still? There's so much in that radiance that he still doesn't understand and rejects.

---

Minister Tua

Maketh is an heiress; one from a large and overly competitive family. She feels that she's had so much just handed to her on a silver platter that she has to work twice as hard to have earned it. From a young age, she was taught immense responsibility and strives to be greater than she was in the last moment.

She's aware of both her weaknesses and strengths, as well as the potential, and to desperately reach for her full potential, is always trying to limit or cover her short comings.

Like responsibility, she was never a stranger to high expectations. And with important figures in her family, all striving just as much to grow status and power, she pushed through to get herself into academies in the inner rings- first in her family to do so. Immediately after became minister of lothal, securing her and her parents' spots as the family heirs.

Where the rest of the family had looked down on him, Tua saw the strengths he had and learned just as much from him. She credits him as her inspiration for having a strong core desire to help her people. The best way for her to initiate responsibility and meet expectations- to be more and be better and make the family that gave her everything proud- was to excel in her studies and land a role in the community that would have direct and important affects.

For the first half of her life, everything she learned had been from her family and families like hers. Most of her family had the same status important, power grabbing, shark competitive mindset. Except for her uncle, who had willingly taken himself out of the running to pursue hard&honest work; a desire to support the community in a much more straightforward way.

And to have worked so much, still having failures piling on her from her shortcomings, *and* to have ended up only harming the very people she was supposed to be representing and being responsible for weighed on her.

And of all the responsibilities and duties she's ever had, taking accountability and being brave were never taught to her. And now she's figuring it out on her own and is learning to not run; to better embrace things. Though, it's easier said than done. She fights for community, to support it, but still needs to learn to be wholy and completely be part of one and be supported.

[lorei-writes]

Different; Similar

Chevalier & Gilbert Gen Fic Angels / Demons AU Word count estimate: 900

Because there's something so interesting about their relationship?

The only complaint I have this time is that this entire story wanted to rhyme, and I... didn't want it to rhyme.

Written for Different Universe, Same Love 2 CCC by @xxsycamore & @queengiuliettafirstlady !

Content Warnings: none

From a black mist, there emerged fingers – first, an index, then a middle, a ring and a little, followed shortly by a thumb. All disjointed, they floated for but a breath before morphing into a hand, nonchalant joints flexing to asses their state. Satisfied, the hand called onto an arm and advanced, the darkness weaving itself into a glove. The door snarled at the sight.

There was a heavy door, of steel and ivory, of leather and bones. Locked somewhere between the worlds, it stood, the frontier above frontiers. The mightiest among all. A remnant, a warning… Or, perhaps, a place of respite some could very well call a sanctuary of sorts. Its purpose a tale of the days long gone, it simply was, unmovable to nearly all. The exception made? The gentlest of the brutal. The most brutal among the gentle. A demon and an angel, both different from their lot.

From a black mist, there emerged fingers – first, an index, then a middle, a ring and a little, followed shortly by a thumb. All disjointed, they floated for but a breath before morphing into a hand, nonchalant joints flexing to asses their state. Satisfied, the hand called onto an arm and advanced, the darkness weaving itself into a glove. The door snarled at the sight.

At first, it was merely a caress, but even that was met with a growl. Chilled to the very bone, each individual finger pressed onto the ivory with merciless force. The hinges shrieked in disuse, their metallic voice tearing to become a roar. It cried in brass-clad storm, painful thunder churning in the entrails of the foul clouds above. The calm conjured up a storm, but even that was futile. The door could not ward Gilbert off – the conqueror conquered, and so a near perfect silence befell on the world. The end of his cane tapped against the broken granite plate that separated him from the void below.

“Here again?” he spoke, with a touch of thinly veiled – purposefully or not – mirth to his voice. “You’re almost too predictable at this point.”

Gilbert waited, red eye trained on the figure seated at the edge of the palpable existence. He calculated, senses tuned to pick apart even the seemingly meaningless gestures, to make full use of the faintest of changes. He watched, however, it was a needless endeavour. A head of platinum blonde hair shook in exasperation.

“Like you’re the one to talk.”

Gilbert met Chevalier’s scowl with a smile of his own. Just as he always did. Just as they always did, fully aware that the chase hadn’t started, for it had never stopped.

“Ah, you can’t hope to make any more friends with that face.”

Chevalier made no effort to talk – much to Gilbert’s amusement, his mind latching onto the possible implications of this call. You will neither deny nor confirm anything, hm? Centuries pass and you’re still this hard to provoke, Gilbert mused. Would it not reveal his true thoughts, he might have even voiced the sentiment. However, it would be beyond pointless at the time. Silent and hardly discouraged, he walked forward to eventually sit down. He set his cane aside and kicked his legs, carefree in the face of ravenous nothingness. His lips parted to speak again, but…

“You haven’t set the scene,” Chevalier interrupted with a sigh. “Save yourself the effort.”

“My, my, how cold.”

“I believe you have already been made aware that your voice grates at my ears.”

Gilbert laid his back on the ground, rested his head over his folded arms.

“And yet you come back. Of course, it is merely an accident this here is the only place we can talk, I believe you. But are you sure that not even a fraction of you wants to see me? Don’t break my heart.”

A pause – eyes so freezing they could call upon a snowstorm fell upon him.

“Ridiculous,” Chevalier surmised. “We do not have hearts. We are not human.”

“Ah, maybe you don’t, indeed,” Gilbert remarked. “Although we are the birds of feather, we weren’t meant to agree,” he laughed.

“And we can’t. Therefore, any conversation that will follow is futile.”

Chevalier rose to his feet. He turned on his heel, away from the only being that, despite having been designed as his material opposite, was very much like him. Whether the cause behind the matter was some inherent deficits present in either of them was debatable. That, however, was not a question Chevalier intended to ever pose to anybody, be it an angel, a demon or a human – and most definitely, he would not be the one to inquire Gilbert about it. The obtained answer would be neither of use nor worth.

“Leaving already? Ah, aren't you impatient today. I was yet to even mention humans properly. Heehee, I’ll start to think that you’ve become fond of them, and what may happen then…?”

No response.

The door opened itself before Chevalier. It did not dare make him wait, perhaps having grown aware of the expectations he had set. Perfectly silent, it merely obeyed – a tool, not an entity, not a person. Not anything with any sort of capacity to feel and therefore complain, his presence alone the very chain that put it in its place. Grace for those who were born into grace, it merely shivered, before shutting itself. Bones rattled against steel, steel rattled against bones, leather spreading itself out for drums to form.

They sighed, separated by the heavy door. Perhaps, somewhere far, far away, in a different world, among some other race, there exists another Gilbert and another Chevalier. And perhaps, just perhaps… Perhaps this once, they do not inhabit the opposing sides of the barricade.

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather @tele86

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my taglist :)

[bnha-dumpster]

Hear me out

Step-brother Shigaraki shoving a vibe in (male) reader during a dinner and Shigaraki is controlling the vibrator and then after dinner Shigaraki fucks the life out of Reader

i was gonna work on monster stuff but this is just *chef's kiss* i think i'm going down the road of a pseudo-incest kink whoops and laughs at myself as i add plot for no reason (also gives you guys a visual reference of the toy in the fic)

pairing: step-brother shigaraki x male reader content tags/warnings: dub-con, pseudo-incest, mild exhibitionism, choking, sex toys, degradation, mind break word count: 2.1k

Things around the household have changed drastically since your mother remarried. You love your mother and want her to be happy, but you feel that things have changed far too fast and far too much.

You had been told that your step-father wanted you to move in with him for two reasons. One; you don't have a job since you're attending university full-time and two; his house is pretty close to your university. You've seen his house from the outside and you can't deny the thought of living in such a large house is pleasant. It's a good deal. But if you had been told that your step-father has a shut-in son that lives with him before moving in, you might've reconsidered it.

Shigaraki is rude and has zero social skills. While you don't actually mind people that don't have social skills- it's often times not their fault- there's something about your step-brother that just unnerves you. You see him and alarm bells go off in your mind.

He likes to catch you off guard. Coming into your room to watch you, pinning you to surfaces, groping you, watching you shower- there's something really wrong with him.

"Tomu-"

You're trying to walk downstairs to go eat dinner with your mother and step-father. Trying, being the keyword. Shigaraki has you pinned to the wall once again. One of his hands is able to completely hold both your wrists- he's not even that much bigger than you! He's using his free hand to tug your sweatpants down to your knees. The pinning isn't exactly new, but he's never actually pulled your clothes off.

"I bought something for you. It's a little present for having such a cute brother." His voice makes you shudder, but the item he holds up next to your face makes you tense up. It's a brand new, probably expensive, sex toy.

"Tomura- hey- let's not-" You squirm and shake your head.

"Don't cause a fuss. Just let me do this, 'kay?"

The lube on the toy is your only saving grace as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and tries to put it on you. It doesn't work very well, the lubed up toy sliding against your limp cock a few times before Shigaraki growls lowly.

"I'm taking my hand off and I expect you to stay still." True to his word, the hand on your wrists disappears. If this were the first time he tried to do something like this, then you might've run away. But you've unfortunately learned through experience that your step-brother is far stronger than he seems. It's only because of your knowledge do you stay.

His hand is cold and calloused, an uncomfortable feeling against your skin. You grimace as he grabs your cock to slip the ring over it, making sure it’s snug against the base before he pushes the vibrating part of the toy into you. It doesn’t actually seem that bad until he turns the toy on. 

“Shit-” You’re not oblivious to the toy’s function but you didn’t expect it to be so snug against that spot inside you. Shigaraki grabs you before your legs buckle, laughing at your state. 

“Wow, you’re that sensitive?” He’s taunting you, making fun of you. “Is my little brother just a slut in disguise?” 

Your pants are pulled up and a small slap is given to your ass. It brings a small yelp out of you, making you turn around to glare at him. He doesn’t seemed fazed by it. Instead, it spurs him on and you can feel him grind against your ass. Even through the fabric of both of your sweatpants, you can feel how hot and heavy his cock is. You can tell it’s thick and that’s barely hard. 

A sliver of arousal makes itself known with a twitch of your cock. The realization makes you stand up straight and shove your step-brother away, adjusting your clothes to hide the erection beginning to strain underneath your pants. 

It’s difficult to sit down at the dinner table and act normal. You give your mother a small smile as you squirm in your seat for a moment. The toy’s low vibration stimulating every part of you- the base of your cock being teased, vibrations going through your balls and taint, the dildo pressing snugly against your prostate- and it’s difficult to hold your composure. 

“Are you okay, dear?” Your mother is looking at you with concern.

“O-oh, I’m alright, mom.” You force another smile.

“Go lay down after dinner, okay?” 

You give a small nod before you start eating, not waiting for your step-brother to sit down. He’s probably snickering to himself and thinking of what he should do. The sudden increase of vibrations of the toy surprises you and you choke on a piece of food. 

“Honey?” 

“Don’t worry, he’s just a little out of it, right lil bro?” A large hand comes to rest on your shoulder. As you turn to look over your shoulder, Shigaraki stares down at you with a small smirk. You can see the small remote in his hand and you almost want to reach out and grab it. But that’d cause a scene- the last thing you want at the dinner table.

He slides into his seat, not bothering to eat. All he’s doing is staring at you and analyzing your reactions as he plays with the remote in his pocket. 

“Yeah, j-just a little bit out of it.” You try your best to keep yourself together. Eating your dinner as fast as possible is your goal, hoping that this torture is only for the sake of humiliating you in front of your mother. 

The vibrations of the toy change rapidly. It seems like Shigaraki’s just cycling through them for the first time, gauging your reactions as he does so. He’s trying to find the best setting for you right now, surely. The one that does you in is the low and slow pulsing of the toy. 

He’s learning so much about you. You’re smart enough not to fight him physically but still have the guts to snap at him with your words. You prefer to be teased with a lack of stimulation rather than overstimulation. You won’t tell your mother about anything he does so she’ll stay happy. The best part... You’re easy to read.

Now that it’s been a few minutes of dealing with the toy, you’re settling down. It’s still uncomfortable, the low stimulation keeping your cock hard, but you’re able to eat your dinner for the most part. You’re eating quicker than normal just so this can end. 

“Thanks for dinner, mom.” As you stand from the table, Shigaraki cycles through the toy quickly to put the vibrations at its most intense setting. You curl in on yourself and groan, facing contorting. 

“Dear?” 

You give her a reassuring smile despite the heat pooling in your stomach. As much as you want to leave the table, you’re not sure you can do it yourself. It seems to be part of your step-brother’s plan. He puts his arm under yours, holding you up to help you shuffle back upstairs.

“I’ll make sure he’s alright, don’t worry.” 

They can’t see it, but you’re glaring at him as he helps you up. With him being the only reason you’re still standing however, that’s all you can manage to do. You hold onto his torso as he takes you up the stairs and opens the door of your room. 

“You’re close, huh? You were about to cum in front of our parents, weren’t you?” Shigaraki throws you onto the floor of your room with a thud, using his foot to turn you onto your back. He stares down at you and steps on your cock, moving it back and forth. 

“Alright little bro, cum for me.” 

With a particularly large amount of pressure, almost painful, you tense and spurt ropes of cum inside your pants. A stain begins to seep into the fabric and Shigaraki looks down at you with a sneer. You’re squirming under his foot, the toy still vibrating aggressively inside you and around the base of your cock. 

He picks you up by the hair and drags you to your bed, manhandling you so your face is against the comforter and your ass is in the air. He doesn’t even bother turning the toy off as he takes it out of you and slides your cock out of the ring. Your ass clenches around the air pathetically, teasing Shigaraki. Even with something inside you, stretching you out, your ass still looks tight and almost untouched. The only thing eluding to its use is the lube smeared around it. 

You’re given no warning when your step-brother grabs your hips and slams his cock inside you. When did he take it out? You don’t know.

“Shiiiiiit- Do you know how tight you are?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Shigaraki begins to fuck you with abandon, thrusting into you with no care for your comfort. The stretch of his cock, how it reaches almost too deep inside you- it’s horribly uncomfortable. There’s a tinge of pleasure from the stretch of his cock pressing against your prostate almost constantly, but not much else. 

His balls slap against your ass with every heavy thrust and the grip on your hips is bruising. You can feel his nails digging into the skin and you’re sure they’ll leave marks. He’s leaving reminders of this.

A hand leaves your hip to hold your limp cock, pumping it aggressively. The sudden stimulation is painful and you squirm. 

“Now, now, little bro. Be a good slut for me and let me play with you.” Shigaraki sneers at the way you stop squirming at his words. “There... See, you’re a pathetic little slut for your big bro, aren’t you?” 

You refuse to answer, only burying your face into the sheets to hide your humiliated tears. It’s not like it matters. He continues to pump your cock at a fast pace, enjoying the way your walls twitch and tighten because of it. Even if you’re not feeling anything, he is. Your pleasure is more of an afterthought, a bonus. Then your cock begins to twitch back to life. 

“Seriously? You’re feeling good?” Shigaraki leans against you, biting your ear. “Getting off from your step bro treating you like a whore and fucking you? You really must be one if you like this.”

“I’m not!” You protest, turning to look at him. Tears are falling down your face, cheeks red from the embarrassment. “It’s your fault! You’re forcing my body to feel like this!”

Both of you know it’s a lie. You’re definitely enjoying it. As cute as your denial is to your step-brother, he isn’t in the mood for you being like this the whole time. He wants to have to shut you up so your parents won’t hear you begging for his cock. 

With a bit of reluctance, he pulls out of you. You’re allowed a brief moment of confusion as he decides how he wants to position you. Once he decides, he flips you onto your back and hikes your legs over his shoulders. In this position, he rubs your cocks together. His is undeniably thicker than yours, but your length isn’t too drastically different. There’s only a few seconds of rutting them together before he lines his cock up with your ass and slams back in.

Much to his surprise and amusement, you let out a confused moan. The new position must feel good. Your face contorting into pleasure with a mix of self-disgust is beautiful to him.

“Little bro, come on. Just let yourself feel good.” His thrusts slow and he reaches for your neck. The grip on your throat is intense and you can feel yourself becoming lightheaded almost instantly. It’s an intense feeling that mixes with pleasure, clouding your senses. 

Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen or just you giving up, but you begin to buck your hips against Shigaraki’s. Your jaw goes slack and your mouth is open, eyes rolling back into your head. The choking keeps you from making much noise so all you can let out are strangled groans. 

“Finally. Let yourself go. Become my whore, my pathetic cumdump of a little brother. Just be my personal cock sleeve, yeah?” 

The words go in one ear and out the other and you let out a string of agreements. Your back arches, cock twitching and covering your stomach in your own cum. It’s the sudden tightness around him that pushes Shigaraki over the edge. He stills inside you as deep as he can and cums, filling your ass. As he comes down from his high, he lets go of your throat. 

“Good boy.” He smacks your face gently and chuckles at your lack of response. “Gone already? Come on, we’ve barely started.”

[chemicalpink]

Ruby Red ⁂ OT7 Poly

⁂ Pairing: embodied capital sins!OT7 x Reader

⁂ Genre: smut | supernatural | dystopian

⁂ Sins: all of them

⁂ Collab: Seven Deadly Sins Collab

⁂ Rating: 18+

⁂ Word Count: 2.5k

⁂ Summary: Being part of the Sacred Special Forces in charge of the chaos unit was difficult as it was. When news break on the successful capture of the capital sins and you’re called into action, everything is about to get a tad more interesting. Would you risk your life, your career and the world’s well being if it meant getting everything you could ever desire with all seven sins at your service?

⁂ Warnings: mentions of a gun (never used), unprotected sex, gangbang really, blowjobs (two at a time), handjobs, oral sex (f receiving), shrimping, stuffing full, nipple play, a lot of potentially incorrect information regarding sins but you know- it's dystopian.

⁂ A/N: Long time coming, I know, life found its way of keeping me away but I'm back now. This was really something (and very long overdue HELLO) either way I hope you enjoy it!

The air inside the office seemed to get increasingly more suffocating each day that went by during what was soon becoming known as the most grandiose mission the Sacred Special Forces of the Universe had ever encountered.

Generations upon generations of a carefully structured plan almost as old as time itself. Your father had carried out what was known as the Evagrius Plan until his death, as his father before him had done. Without any masculine sibling to take over the centuries-old tradition of your family leading the ever-growing mission, the responsibility had fallen on your shoulders, as untraditional as it had appeared to everyone in the beginning. It had been hard. Not only was it a complex mission itself, but having to put up with the whispering around the Forces, the mistrust of what should have been your people for such an insignificant and rather antique matter that it was you being a woman. They had soon learnt their lesson. The progress that had taken decades were cut down to mere months under your rather firm hand and even firmer mindset. There was absolutely no chance you were taking on not going down in history as the one that had managed to capture and process each of the seven deadly sins, all while being the first woman to wield the title of head of the Sacred Special Forces of the Universe.

The constant bustling inside the building had become second nature and almost a synonym to the rather quietness that ruled over the rest of the world, at least to you. It wasn’t unfamiliar having to find your way around people running around the floors, hands-on heavy armoury, ready to deploy while sirens were blaring, the red tinge of the light flickering above your head. Today was no different.

“Captain Y/N! Captain Y/N!” a rather breathless voice called out for you, making you step aside and wait for the intern to catch up to you “Code red for Evagrius has been set off” you could have sworn your heart was ready to escape its confinement inside your ribs. It was finally time. “They’re waiting for your- your assessment downstairs”

You started moving after a curt nod, feet moving on their own accord, mind suddenly completely blank, running on instinct. However hard you had worked, you were almost certain the last step to the Evagrius Plan would have taken at least a couple more years, having it kickstart on such short notice had your mind running on overload: the press conferences, the protocol, the imprisonment, the paperwork. The world seemed to tune itself out as you found your way to the arrival lobby, protected completely by a one-sided mirror–a precaution your father had taken back in the day, so as not to corrupt the protocol– as you simply watched the specialised forces tugging each man forcefully into the building for registration, hands restrained behind their backs, most of them sporting a rather amused smile on their handsome faces.

There was really no denying in what the eye could see, the seven men entering the building were as dangerous as any criminal could get. All of them old as the universe itself– perhaps even older than that– yet with such youthful faces that were undoubtedly the reason behind worlds destroyed, civilizations demises down the lane of existence itself. Wrath, Sloth, Envy, Pride, Lust, Gluttony and Greed, all lined up prettily under your watch, the last of them, brown locks shading his eyes as he toyed a lollipop on his mouth, seemed to be staring right at your soul even through the mirror. A teasing smile on him that was enough to have you look away as he turned to face the officer handling him with a chuckle.

“I don’t think you realise just how humongous this is” you had been trained for this exact moment, after years of taking over the main mission, an installed fear covering the whole place not only as a natural reaction but as a universal effect of them being there.

Your face was kept as straight as you could, having read about what the capital sins presence could do to one’s mind, it was best to not let the whole ordeal get to your head. “I do”

“What’s next then?”

“We follow protocol” You diverted your eyes as soon as the words left your mouth, not missing the way that the brown-haired one from earlier seemed to be staring right into your soul even from the one-way mirror– you wouldn’t really be surprised if he did. Although the organisation had been preparing endlessly for this exact moment it was most certainly impossible to have it all covered, never 100% sure of the tricks the seven men had under their sleeves.

“Well that was-” your coworker stealing a glance at the detention space for a second, you swear you can see a rather teasing glint in all of their eyes as they collectively look up at the action.“rather anticlimatic”

You really didn’t intend to become the harsh boss at the time, although the situation most certainly called upon the measures. One slightly crooked move and the whole place would be burning up in major chaos.“I don’t think you realise, we’re working”

“Whatever you say big old boring boss”

The thing about having the embodied sins locked up not only meant the theoretical dangers that one might think it entails, but many more as the protocol had never once considered the possibility of catching them together. It was a situation unbeknownst to any alive creature of the modern age, capturing them one by one required endless security measures, one can’t even begin to think about what capturing all seven of them at once could mean. What having all of them contained in the same place at the same time? You were almost certain they could break out any second should they want to do so. The playful stolen looks in them were a game to be played, and two could play all the same. The plan was a rather simple one. Getting everyone on isolation cells as soon as they were captured, follow a strict protocol meant to test their limits and their relation to the reality of the world, get snippets of information on exactly what they were capable of. The twist? They would not– for the love of everything divine– let themselves be separated from one another.

The halls are empty, emergency lights flashing as you march your way around the facility, reviewing time and time again the protocol, wanting everything to be strictly as planned. Your steps resonate in the pristine floor, hand stuck on top of your gun as it laid comfortably against your hip. Most of the workers have been dismissed for the chaos that will surely ensue the next day as everything is set to be put to work. Other than not considering to catch all of the sins together in the same mission, was the fact the old documents and research suggested an eighth member to the compound, an eighth sin called Acedia, detached from the original stories to be turned into a horseman of the apocalypse, the reason unknown, any further information had disappeared from the face of Earth a long time ago, the sin suggested gone for good without a trace to latch on, seven remaining.

Thoughts occupied with words that had been long memorised. That’s when you heard it first. A teasing tone to it, like a predator toying with its next meal. “Y/N. sweet lovely Y/N, would you look at yourself?”

You tried your best to get a grip on your mind, knowing better than to let it get to you, not once relenting your steps as you walked the familiar path to where they were all held in, a useless one-way mirror separating you from them along with a more complex and mythical security system that you could only hope to be working.

“You do realise, we’re more powerful than what your pretty little head could fathom” the tone is teasing, recognising the buff blond man as the leader of the group– if they even believe in such position. Easy to spot, Pride. The rest of them carbon copied his smirk as the lights above them flickered for a few seconds before settling down again.

If their embodiments were anything to go by, you could spot the one next to him as the youngest. Gluttony, if the records were right about him being the youngest of them all. “We could obliterate you with a snap of our fingers darling”

“We’re only here” there’s a pause in their speech as his eyes lock on yours, something inside you having you place your hand on the disconnecting device to enter the small containment cell– fuzzy feelings inside you, making you want more, get closer. It was undoubtedly Greed’s doing, boxy smirk and tantalizing eyes never leaving yours. “Because we want to be”

“Not because you got your hands on us” There were enough spotting records in the modern age to be able to spot Jung Hoseok as Envy wreaking havoc around the world.

Feline eyes lazily checking you out as the door closes behind your back, mind as calm as ever even if it is betrayed by your ragged breath in their presence, Sloth might have been the lowest profile one, but it was unmistakeable on-brand for him “But we’re definitely getting our hands on you”

“Such a lovely pet” There are enough witness records signalling Wrath as the most handsome man they had ever lied their eyes on to recognise him on the spot.

That would only leave the blond man with a deceivingly eye crinkled sweet smile– Lust. “How many of us do you think you could take before bursting”

“It’s Jungkookie’s birthday, after all, we wanted to celebrate him” you can’t move in the slightest, only stare at the way that Pride comes up to you, big calloused hand coming up to stroke your cheek as you catch movement from the corner of your eye, lights flickering and settling on a comfortable red that makes all seven of them ready to devour you whole and you wanting nothing more than for it to happen as quickly as possible “12 billion years is such a baby age still”

Before you can even begin to comprehend what’s going on, there are two mouths lapping up the skin on your neck, nipping a bit at it as you feel your knees weakening, a hand wrapped around your hair, pulling relentlessly so you can set your eyes on his, a smirk playing on his lips, fingers expertly working you out of your clothes, a dry laugh as they empty your loaded gun onto the table. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second as you keep thinking about all seven of them absolutely ravishing you in a matter of minutes.

You find yourself on your knees as all seven of them tower over you, hardened cocks waiting impatiently at your eye level, you can feel your mouth watering at the sight, only thinking about the prospect of being able to take two of them at the same time, stretching you nicely before whatever wicked game they had in mind could be played with you as a birthday present to their youngest. You make sure to take a hold of one in each hand, angry red tip popping out against every sharp thrust your hand provided, ragged breath followed by sharp intakes of breaths from the men being handled, the delicious sounds encouraging you to open your mouth to welcome the two shafts being presented on top of your tongue in a rather unaesthetically and impractical way, eliciting grunts from both of them anyhow each time they clashed into each other as they slicked themselves with your drool on them, carefully managing the tempo at with you were supposed to suck on them while handling the other two. A moan bursting from your throat has you almost gagging as you feel a wet and warm presence lapping up your wet fold from the small space where your naked core was almost hitting the floor, you’re almost sure you miss a beat as you feel your head floating around when both of your nipples get attacked by the last two men latching onto them, nibbling the skin rather forcefully.

You have to be grateful for the lack of technology monitoring as the small place is filled with moans, grunts and ragged breaths, an all too familiar warm building inside you before it gets taken again from you completely, the scene shifting almost magically, being manhandled against a wall as a cock is shoved inside you, deliciously hitting your walls as you clench down on him, eyes closed, half a mind to register the model-like sin waiting in line as the pseudo leader spurts inside you, all too quickly handing you over to the eldest one with amazing speed so as to not let his seed spill from inside you, the man taking his place doing exactly the same in record time, tits bouncing against thin air as he comes inside you after positioning your flailing arms on the wall, legs spread and spilling just a little before you’re plugged in with on-brand lazy but deep thrusts, large ahnds holding your hips down, own climax long gone as you’re deprived of it once again by Sloth spilling inside before the envious gaze of Jung Hoseok guides you to rest most of your upper body on the metal table, the coldness of the surface prickling yiur skin in cintrast with how hot it feels around you, no doubt in your mind it’s all over with him as the expert in the topic takes matter in his own– rather tine but skilled– hands as he works you closer to the edge at the same time as he fills you up, you’re almost sure you’re ready to burst before Greed takes a hold of you, head spinning, unable to form words other than babbles and incoherent words, just feeling like bursting as he paints your already full cunt white, edging on the dreading moment the youngest takes you before slurping noises take over the space, warm muscle inside your hole lapping up every drop you can give him, tasting the rest on his tongue as you make your best effort to keep yourself standing up right, the combinaation of the circling of his tongue on you along with his slender fingers inside you throwing you over the edge.

Mind still fuzzy as you let your head hang against the cold metal table, you can hear Hoseok talking “It was a long time no see, Y/N”

“Or should we say… Acedia?” the playful glint matches yours as you look around at the seven– very much naked– men around you, feeling hot all over, you can almost assure you’re dripping on the floor once again.

“They won’t ever see us coming” You make your best effort to place your lips on the youngest, tasting distinctly of the rest of the six of them on his tongue before the rattled place looks brand new with a snap of his fingers, the door unlocked, alarms blaring as all eight of you exit the building unnoticed by the rest of the team.

[pedros-mustache]

search for my tongue

warnings: smut (18+): in-depth exploration of kissing, mutual masturbation. also: language, x fem!reader

a/n: haven’t written ezra in awhile. got a hankering and the hornier parts of myself took over. what are you gonna do about it? 🤷🏻‍♀️

forewarning: i wrote this in one sitting. it doesn’t make a lot of coherent sense and is marvelously unedited. plz forgive my horny brain.

“Hands to yourself now, birdie. Keep ‘em nice and pretty on your lap where I can see ‘em.”

You nod, and a childlike thrill zings through your chest. A whisper of cool air breaks your skin into gooseflesh. Your heartbeat thrums in your cunt.

Oh, but this is silly. Really, it is quite silly.

You sit on your knees, palms flat against thighs. If Ezra has anything to say about it, you’ll be here for awhile, but it’s no matter. You’d kneel for him until the end of time, until the universe folded in on itself and vanished to nothing. You would kneel for him longer still, your adoration runs so deep. 

Nevertheless, the fibrous rug beneath your knees eases the strain on work-weary joints, and you’re once again thankful you dropped quite the penny on this... outing. Price can be forgotten, but memories—carnal appetites made soft in the confines of wealthy society—remain etched within the mind and heart for eternity.

Hair a cascading tumble around your shoulders, you bat your painted eyelashes. “You really don’t want to touch me, Ezy?”

Everything about you tonight is varnished. From the makeup smoothed over your face to the white lingerie clinging to your body, you are pearlescent, glowing beneath the lodge’s warm light. Silk stockings and a beaded bustier, red lips and neck adorned with a single pearl drop necklace—he’s made you this way, bought it all, and laid it out on the bed for this moment. You will not deny him—the Him that stokes the fires of your very soul—but you will tease, as is your right.

“No, I do not,” he says—without pause, without hesitation, firm enough it makes you arch a brow in surprise. “I remain stalwart against the barrage of your beauty. Besides, I reckon I have quite the advantage over you, dear heart. My one remaining hand, the last vestige of my puerility, will remain snug beneath my thigh here, and you—you, you, you—will be the first to break. I have half the creeping fingers to worry about.” 

Winking, he wedges his thick hand between his left thigh and calf. He kneels before you as well, though entirely unvarnished. He offered to spruce himself up prior to jumping into this remote system (Perhaps a hair cut? Or a fresh suit? Anything for you), but you declined the offer. You like him, love him, as he is. A thin grey shirt and soft, black trousers is enough for you.

“I won’t break.” You straighten your spine with a wiggle, pushing your breasts outwards. His eyes drift to the squeeze of your cleavage before returning to your face. “I really want that cosmolevel.”

“And I want that hydrospanner.”

“Then we’re at an impasse.”

The corner of his mouth lifts; the delicate scar on his cheek pulls with the movement, and you long to lave your tongue over the faded memory. Soon, soon.

Ezra leans across the gap, his breath fanning your mouth as his gaze roams your face. “An impasse indeed,” he whispers. The low gravel of his voice tickles a nerve in your chest, and you bite your lip. “However shall we come to a decision? The last of our money: a cosmolevel or a hydrospanner, both equally as vital in our return to the workforce. I haven’t the foggiest idea how we’ll solve this conundrum.”

You angle yourself forward. Your nose nudges his. “Touch me, and you’ll find out just how quickly I can order what I want.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“Then kiss me, and I’ll have you dripping like goo, begging for one touch of my hand, before you can say—”

Ezra swallows the last of your taunt with his mouth. 

His kiss is soft, a mere peck to your lips. Once, twice, before moving slightly to fit his upper lip over yours for a longer, firmer press. You sink into him, curling your fingers in the thin material at your thighs as his warmth bleeds between the thin part of your lips.

You angle your head to the side, and your mouth follows, dragging along the curve of his cupid’s bow. His mustache tickles—always has, always will—but you push the sensation aside, instead anchoring yourself to the ridges of his chapped lower lip. He spends too much time in the sun, your Ezra. You press against his mouth, pursing your lips to an untimed beat as your heartrate grows. Kiss after kiss, tender and chaste. The room echoes with the sounds of your simple connection.

When the tip of his tongue skims your bottom lip, you gasp. 

He takes the opening.

His tongue slips into your mouth, dripping with saliva and heat. You fit your tongue over his, and the two slide together in an unhurried circle. Around, around, warm and wet and quivering. Pushing your tongue aside, he wanders through your mouth, licking over your teeth, your cheeks, your throat. Warmth spreads from your chest to the pit between your legs, and you shift to relieve the pressure.

A groan filters from the back of his throat when you pull back long enough to wrap your mouth around his tongue. The muscle relaxes between your lips, and you suck gently, bobbing your head back and forth, flicking the tip of his tongue with your own when you can. You suck his tongue as you would his cock, going so far as to rise on your knees and force his head backwards with the angle of your body alone. It is a struggle to not take his shoulders for stability, but you want that fucking cosmolevel and you want him reduced to pulp beneath your capable mouth. You can win at both games; you know it.

Ezra wrenches his head back when the pressure of your mouth grows too strong. “Fuck, birdie,” he whispers. 

You drop to your knees, gasping for breath, lips swollen and raw. “Too much?”

Something blooms in his eyes. His pupils expand until you see nothing but dark pits of want. He shakes his head. “Not enough.”

His hand slides from its careful place in the pit of his knee. Your heart skips a beat. Oh Kevva, you’ve won! That easily too! Pride explodes in your chest and you open your mouth to congratulate yourself but then—

He merely shucks his pants over his hips, releasing his hard cock from the confines of his trousers. He spits in his hand before rubbing the saliva over his swollen head. He nods to you.

“Go on,” he says. “Touch yourself while you kiss me.”

“But I—”

He shakes his head. “Touch. Yourself.”

You are you to argue with Him?

Pulling the crotch of your thong aside, you find Ezra’s mouth again as you press your forefinger to the damp heat of your pussy. You whimper as you part your lips, and his tongue sweeps through your mouth again. You whimper as you part your lips, and you spread your wetness from opening to clit.

“I can smell you sweet elixir from here, dear heart,” he mumbles against your mouth.

“I can hear how hard you are for me, baby boy,” you murmur back.

Words vanish from there, superfluous when touch and sound and taste can do all the necessary communication.

Ezra fucks his hand, and you fuck your fingers, and you both fuck one another’s mouth. Your skin blazes with hidden heat, and your clit sobs against the pad of your fingers as you rub yourself to pleasure. You can hear nothing but the wet slap of Ezra’s cock and the wet slap of your pussy and the wet slap of your tongue in his mouth.

You have never felt dirtier—you have never felt more desirable.

You come in a sudden rush, jaw dropping as you quiver over writhing hips and pruned fingers. Ezra follows soon thereafter, shooting his load onto the apex of your knees with a strangled moan that hits the back of your throat. His lips remain pressed to yours until you drop to your elbows on the carpet, body trembling, cunt displayed for him in the garish room.

His hand lifts, fingers twitching, as he stares at your swollen, dripping heat. You blink—and then he touches you, running his thick thumb over your pearled bud, drawing the remains over your orgasm over the thatch of hair above your center. You shiver, dropping your head back with a moan.

“How could I resist such a thing?” he wonders. “Never again.”

.

.

.

tagging those who might be interested: @skeletonstwins​ @pleasedin​ @headinthestarz​ @heartsofbeskar​ @babydarkstar​ @littlepadika​ @literallydontlook​ @javierpinme​ @sharkbait77​ @queen-sands​ @punkremus​ @goddessofsprings​

[saintshigaraki]

ONE DAY WE’LL REVEAL THE TRUTH (THAT ONE WILL DIE BEFORE HE GETS THERE)

title: youth by daughter

pairing: dabi x f!reader 

words: 1.7k

excerpt: But what is rage, you’d ask him, if not one of the many faces of grief? 

a/n: dabi my beloved (derogatory). this fic is my love letter to parentheses.

tags: angst, toxic relationships, explicit s*xual content, light choking, dabi is a bastard but he is a needy bastard 

in case you’d rather read it on ao3!

MDNI

He’s just outside the door. He hasn’t made a sound, but you know he’s there. You can feel it; in your blood, in your bones, in your marrow. 

(You’ve always been able to feel him, monstrous and cruel beneath your skin. An itch. An awful taunting itch. You’ve wanted him out since he first stuck his claws in you and buried himself deep, but he’s near impossible to shake. He won’t leave until he’s hollowed you out, until your flesh is no longer your own, until all that’s left of you is him. Until all that’s there, is what he believes there should be. 

He’s a self-important bastard like that.)

When he finally decides to open the door, he does so with a slam. It would’ve made you jump if you hadn’t been so focused on the skyline. Tracing the buildings, looking for stars you know you won’t be able to see. They get swallowed up, this deep in the city. Drowned out by light. 

(When you were a child, you didn’t quite understand how stars could vanish in the night. Weren’t they the brightest things in the universe? Burning and brilliant, even light years away? 

You understand it better now. How mankind has this nasty habit of ruining, of polluting, of blotting out things of wonder and then desperately trying to remake it in our own image.

It’s never as beautiful as what was, but it’s far too late for us to admit defeat now.)

He’s mad, burning up with fury. You can feel the heat of it, cutting straight through the heavy chill of the night air. It’s stifling, your balcony so small that he’s practically breathing down your neck with how close he is. Accompanying his presence, always, is the faint smell of burnt flesh he can never quite mask, no matter the amount of cheap aftershave he tries to drown himself in. 

He’d texted you, and you’d ignored him. For a week, you’ve ignored him and if there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s when he gets ignored. 

He’s the one that ignores you, it should never be the other way around. 

You know that, of course. You know all his little unwritten rules. 

(Don’t ignore him is at the top of the list. Except, of course, during those nights when he thinks you’re asleep and he clings to you like a child, his tears burning where they touch your skin. Even his grief, you can’t help but think, is scorching.

On those nights, you’ve found it’s best to stay quiet. He wields his grief like rage and you’d rather not be caught in the crossfire.)

He’s waiting for you to talk, to stumble over your words, make some sort of vague attempt at an apology. It’s what you would usually do after you’ve broken one of his rules. 

But you say nothing, content to sit in the too-heavy silence. You’re tired. Of him. Of whatever it is you two have been doing. It’s the same stupid story, the same vicious cycle. A snake cursed to eat its own tail. 

He’s using you. He has been for a long while now. If you’re being perfectly honest with yourself, he most likely has been since the beginning. And God, it’s exhausting work, being used. 

Although, really, you’re not all that much better than he is. In the beginning, you were with him purely because he fascinated you. All his grief laid bare, and so vulnerable. So obvious and painful. Undeniable in its brutality. 

(Rage, he’d say, it’s righteous rage, not grief.

But what is rage, you’d ask him, if not one of the many faces of grief?) 

It didn’t take long for you to realize he’s chasing something. And it took you even less time to realize that whatever he’s after, is probably going to kill him one day. 

(You wonder if he knows he’s chasing his own death. You wonder if he’d care at all. 

He reminds you of Eve, eating the forbidden fruit. You think she’d take a bite of the apple, again and again and again if ever given the choice, even knowing the consequences. Even with intimate knowledge of the suffering to come. How could she not? How could any of us hold our fate in the palm of our hands and choose not to sink our teeth into it?)

He’s growing impatient beside you, burning up with it. If he touched you, you’re sure he’d melt your flesh straight to the hollow bone. 

But you don’t break. Just once, you want him to fall apart first. Just once, you want him desperate. 

(He’s always been so good at making you desperate, with a hand around your neck, just tight enough to leave you gasping for air, your back to his chest and his staples drawing blood, as he pounds into you so hard all you could do is dig your nails into his arm. 

His lips are right by your ear, you’re mine, he says. You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mine. 

And God, with his cock hitting all the right spots in your cunt you’d believe it. You’d believe anything he’d said to you as long he just kept going. 

Say it, he hisses, say you’re mine. 

You don’t answer him right away, mostly because you can’t, not with the way he’s fucking you. You can’t catch your breath enough to form a sound, you can’t get your bearings enough to collect a single thought that isn’t Dabi Dabi Dabi. 

Annoyed at your lack of answer, he brings a searing thumb down to your overstimulated clit. You keen, arching, desperately trying to get away from the sensation that at this point is more pain than pleasure. 

Say it, he says again, there’s a strange sort of edge to it. Looking back you think it might’ve been desperation. Say it. 

When he presses down just a little harder, you finally crack. 

Yours, you gasp. I’m yours. Yours. Yours. Yours. 

He laughs, so deep in his chest that you feel it in your own. 

It echoes in your head for weeks afterward.)

“What,” he grounds out, low and furious, “the fuck.” 

It’s not a question. 

You turn towards him, at last. Though you can hardly see him, surrounded by shadows. There are glints of his piercings in the polluted light, a gleaming flash as he runs his tongue along with his teeth. But it’s his eyes that you lock on. Bright and a brilliant blue. Glowing and monstrous in the dark. 

(You’re reminded, once again, of the stars. Burning and burning and burning.)

With no preamble, you say, “I think I love you.” 

The air around you quiets. Like the city itself is holding it’s breath. 

It’s not a sweet confession under the moonlight. In the week since you came to the realization, it’s already started to fester, to rot straight through your bones. 

It’s a curse more than anything. You love a man whose chasing his own death. You love a ghost. Or, you suppose, a ghost in the making. 

Before you can say anything else (though really, what else is there to say) he cuts in sharply, meanly, “No, you don’t.” 

You can’t help but tilt your head at that. You don’t really know what to say. You don’t know if you’re supposed to say anything. His lips are pulled back, teeth bared, he’s gleaming and sharp, pulled so taught with tension you wonder how he’s even breathing. He reminds you, vividly, of a cornered animal. A scared one. Though he’s trying to mask it with annoyance, with a type of anger that toes the line of fury. 

He’s always doing that. Masking his fear with rage. Masking his grief with rage. Hiding any part of himself that might be perceived as weak, as soft, as vulnerable, under the guise of rage. 

You can’t imagine that it’s anything less than exhausting. 

Though you have to admit, you didn’t expect this response. You didn’t expect fear. You thought he’d be unbearably smug about it. Proud of himself for finally sinking his teeth into your heart. Ready to chew you up and spit you back out. You were ready for him to move on. 

You didn’t expect him to deny it. 

(He could be right, though you doubt he is.

You wonder what it means to love, you wonder how you’re supposed to love. You wonder if you can only love someone if you’ve seen the cruelest parts of them first. 

You suppose if that’s the case, then he might be right. 

You’ve never actually been able to force yourself to look up what exactly he’s wanted for. What exactly it is he’s done. 

Mostly because you’re afraid that even if you knew every last gory detail, it wouldn’t be enough to make you walk away. And how would you be able to look at yourself in the mirror, after that? Knowing exactly who you let share your bed? who cried scorching hot tears into your shoulder? 

Ignorance is bliss, they say. In your case, it could very well be your only hope for salvation.

But, you don’t really think there’s a set way a person is supposed to love. It’s what makes it so terrifying. It’s an unknown. And it’s so hard to not fear the unknown.)

“Dabi-” you start. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he spits out. Eyes flashing, his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

You want to laugh at the absurdity of it all, of him trying to tell you what you do and do not feel, but you think he’d turn you to ashes for the slight. His pride has always been so easily shaken.  

“Dabi-” you try again. 

But he’s two steps ahead of you. He always is. 

He’s already turned around, hiding his face from view, opening the door. And you don’t stop him. You don’t see why you should. 

You can’t shake him from the path he’s on. You don’t think anyone can, really. 

Grief is all he has, it’s all he’s let himself have. It’s fundamental to him now. It’s all he is. And you’re sure he believes whatever he’s chasing is going to fill the hollow void it’s made of him. 

It won’t. You’re sure of that, at least, because even if he does succeed, what will he be left with then? 

You don’t say any of that to him, because you’re not his fucking therapist. And because you’re not so sure he wouldn’t kill you for it. 

It’s anticlimactic, watching him disappear into your darkened apartment. 

But all you can think about when you hear the click of the front door closing behind him is how honest his fear was, almost childlike. Remnants of a poor, grief-stricken boy. 

What a monster it’s made of him. 

a/n part two:

thinking about adrianne kalfopoulou’s ‘grief will keep you reaching back / for what is not there.’ 

i could not tell you why this took me over two weeks to write. i had a lot of fun with it though. dabi my beloved. go to therapy please. also i know dabi can’t cry but....let me have this.

[wearywinchester]

Hold On

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When you’re injured on a hunt with a shapeshifter, Dean’s there to make sure you’re okay.

Requested by Anonymous: “Come here, I’ll carry you”

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: injuries, mentions of blood, mild swearing, fluff, kissing

A groan.

That’s all you could manage as you tipped your head back and let it thud against the wall, eyes squeezing shut as another groan fell past your lips. You were nothing short of exhausted as you slumped against that wall, one that surely had the outline of your body indented in it from where you’d been thrown earlier. Just how early it’d been, you weren’t really sure about that part.

What you were sure of was the incessant burning across your knuckles and the pressure behind your cheekbone, knowing for certain there was a cut running along your skin there. You were increasingly aware of the way your knee had a dull throb to it, your ankle a million times worse. That familiar pressure radiated behind your eyes as the tears stung and burned, frustration having built up and nearly boiled over. Between the pain of your injuries and the embarrassment you felt for getting them, it was enough to have them rolling down your cheeks, hot on your skin.

It was a shifter. One that’d turned into your very own twin, adding to the strangeness of it all when it cornered you in a room by yourself, the room you currently sulked in with the inability to get very far.

The saying you are your own worst enemy had taken on a meaning you never quite thought of in that moment, one that had your brows furrowing and the anger simmering within you. You knew it’d used your looks to it’s advantage for the brothers you came with, for Dean. You were his sweet spot and it seemed as though every monster in the very world you lived in knew that very fact and took full advantage of the seemingly universal knowledge.

But that wasn’t important right now. What was important was the fact that you’d gotten separated from the pair and were reduced to a hobble should you want to get up and find your way to them. That would be simple if you knew where they were—you’d heard some yelling and a miscellaneous shot fired, but it wasn’t enough to pinpoint where your beau had been.

Your hands were trembling as you brought them up to your face, adrenaline still having its hold on you as you rub your hands down your face despite the jolt of pain making itself known when your hand ran over your cheek. You grit your teeth and curse under your breath at the sensation, fists balling in your momentary irritation before they relax once more.

All around you were heaps of broken glass from windows and cabinets, shards of snapped wood joining it on the floor and you were fairly certain you were sitting on more than a few of those pieces. The couch was overturned and it’s cushions splay around the room in places cushions shouldn’t be, the table split down the middle and sitting in a pile of rubble much like the rest of the room. The paintings and pictures on the walls were torn, the glass in some of the frames broken and from where you’d thrown them in self defense. Something that also took on a new meaning.

You were tired, fatigue weighing you down as your heart hammered in your chest and sweat coated your skin. You were tired and miserable and desperately wanted to call it a day. A bubble bath seemed like a dream to you in that moment, contrasting to the way you felt having currently been covered in dirt and blood and sweat and most freshly—tears.

Your jaw tenses as tightly as you could manage when you rolled to your side, palm pressed to the floor as you leaned on your good knee. It was no easy feat getting yourself up off that floor, the smallest bit of pressure upon your ankle nearly sending you over the edge as you stood to your feet with a tear rolling down your cheek. Balance was something you lacked in that moment, never something you had down to begin with but it paled in comparison to this as you caught yourself on the wall.

“I am never hunting again,” you grumble to yourself, huff leaving your lips though you knew it was a lie.

“Y/n?”

You gaze lifted to the owner of the voice, relief washing over you as he crossed the room in as little as three strides. “Dean? Please tell me it’s really you because I can’t do a round two with that thing.”

“I could ask you the same thing, sweetheart,” he says, brows furrowing as his hand comes up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing over your skin as the tips of his fingers hover over the very curve of your ear.

You could see every emotion that expressed on his face, that filled his eyes as they bounced over every inch of your face at each and every scrape and scratch and bump and bruise. You could see the myriad of questions and arguments sitting on the tip of his tongue on how you should have been more careful, how he shouldn’t have let you leave his side this time. It wasn’t hard to see, even if he’d deny it till he was blue in the face if you’d said those very things you saw.

His eyes fall closed for a moment as the relief falls over him, his forehead pressing to yours as his jaw tenses. He feels the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach at the thought of what’d happened to you and at the very fact that he couldn’t do anything about it. Wasn’t there to help you. If he was, your hands wouldn’t be shaking so much and you wouldn’t have those tears in your eyes that pull at his heart every time he sees them. You wouldn’t be shifting on your feet as you try and stand on a messed up ankle and you wouldn’t have felt scared. You hadn’t said it but he knew you were.

You wouldn’t be hurt.

“You okay?” He asks instead, nose bumping yours softly in the close proximity.

“Take a wild guess, Winchester,” you said, lips quirking up in a soft smile.

He pulls back to look at you then, lips pursed as the crease between his brows deepens. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” you say, getting yourself an eye roll.

You muster up the strength to push past him, all hobbles with just an ounce of balance as your face twists in immediate discomfort. The groan you try to muffle doesn’t get past green eyes behind you, especially not the gasp you’re quick to inhale when that ever familiar searing pain burns up the length of your leg. It was beyond you how you thought you could play it off, but even then you still didn’t give up your efforts.

“Y/n,” he started, a warning tone in his voice mixed with exasperation.

“I’m fine, Dean. I got it,” you insist, though the half cry leaving your lips right after is less than helping your case.

“Would you quit it with the macho tough guy act?” He says and you’re quick to flash him a glare. His brows raise and he throws his hands up. He was right and he knew it. “Come here, I’ll carry you.”

“Are you crazy?” Your glare remains as your head tilts, his hands dropping to his sides.

“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart, ‘m not letting you walk so deal with it.”

You sigh as a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, one you try desperately to stave off as you roll your eyes. He turns on his heel and squats down, head turning and brow raising as he waits. A huff sounds and so does a stifle noise of discomfort as you move, your hands pressing to his shoulders as you climb on his back. His hands rest behind your thighs as he stands tall, your arms wrapping around his neck as your head rests against his.

A quiet apology is immediate at the sound of your muffled complaints when your ankle is jostled more than you’d prefer, soft and sweet. You tightened your grip around him then, your chin resting on his shoulder as he kicked the busted door open, careful not to let it hit you.

The rain was drizzling outside as he started along the trail back to the car, the droplets cold against your skin as they pelted down over you at a steady pace.

“You’re taller than I thought,” you mumble, a teasing smile on your lips. “Maybe I should stop calling you short stack.”

His chuckle rumbles against you and you can’t see the grin on his face but boy was he sporting the sweetest smile as he shook his head at your words. “Oh really?”

“Yeah really,” you say, laughing to yourself. “But you are shorter than Sam, so I’m gonna have to take it back, short stack.”

He squeezes your good leg in playful retaliation, head shaking some more as he hikes you up further on his back. Even when you’re hurting you never miss the chance to pick on him and he swears you’re the embodiment of sunshine, he knows you are but he doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

“I meant it when I said you were a pain,” he says, his grin in his words.

You laughed then, one that has him smiling like a fool. You sigh softly, another laugh falling from your lips.

“I can’t believe I kicked my own ass,” you say, brows furrowing as you thought about it and his own laughter was immediate. It wasn’t all too amusing half an hour ago but in the current moment, it was kinda comical you will admit.

“You kicked mine too.”

You sigh, quiet and gentle as you look ahead over his shoulder. His stubble is rough against your cheek as your skin brushes against it, your hand that dangled over in front of him patting his chest.

“De?” You say softly, eyes focused on his boots with every step in the mud and gravel. He hummed. “You really are sweet.”

Sweet. It was something you called him often, something he’d beg to differ on because he feels you deserve more, but that isn’t even something he’d argue with you on. He knows full well he’d lose. But it’s got him smiling, one that only widens when you kiss his cheek and your smile presses into his skin, paired with a soft press of your lips to the corner of his mouth when he turns his head. He stops in his tracks and tips his head back, kissing you once, twice, three times before he turns once more and continues by the path.

It’s his wordless I love you, his wordless acceptance of your words as he’s got that goofy smile on his lips he’s glad you can’t see. You know you’ll be just fine as long as you’ve got him, and he knows he’s not going anywhere.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @campingmonkey

[wanderinginksplot]

Riye (A Favor) - Alpha-17/f!Reader fic

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Third installment of my Alpha-17/fem!reader fic!

Word-Count: 3,100

Warnings: aggressive flirtation, Alpha is rude.

---

You carefully straightened the neckline of your shirt, eyes on the refresher mirror. It might be silly, but today marked a full month since you had come to Kamino, and you wanted to look your best.

Your outfit had survived the morning, despite a meeting with several Kaminoans who wanted updates on your progress. You had been able to deliver good news - that you were right on schedule - but a sense of doubt overshadowed any triumph you might have felt. The first deadline had been met, but the next one promised to step up the workload, and you were already feeling overwhelmed at the idea.

Still, you were determined to push the negativity out of your mind. You would figure out a better schedule to complete the work later. Today was a celebration.

The bad thing about taking more care with your appearance was that it attracted more attention than usual from the cadets. You had politely turned away two different groups of young men by the time Alpha was due to arrive in the cafeteria. Another cadet - alone, this time - was doing his best to keep from being dismissed as well.

"Was it raining when you came in, ma’am?" he asked, leaning over you. "I have flight drills after this and it gets even more dangerous in the rain."

You did your best not to smile at the obvious way he was hinting about being a pilot. "You know, I think it was raining the last time I was near a window," you told him, voice grave.

"Then I'm going to need some luck to survive," he said dramatically, flashing you a smile he clearly hoped would be charming. "I've heard a kiss from a beautiful woman is a good start. What do you think? It might help me survive the afternoon."

"I wouldn't count on it," a dark voice warned.

The cadet stood as straight as possible as Alpha approached. The captain brushed your new pilot friend aside with a twist of his armored shoulders and sat down. He proceeded to start eating, ignoring the cadet completely.

Any other cadet would have backed away, thankful that Alpha hadn't decided to throw them directly into the oceans of Kamino, but this one was more determined than most.

He winked at you from behind Alpha's head. "By the way, my name is-"

"She doesn't want to know your name," Alpha told him. "Get out of here before I decide that I want to know it."

"Very flattering, Captain," the cadet said cheekily. "But Jango's face isn't the one I want to wake up to, yeah?"

Alpha swallowed his mouthful of food and deliberately set his fork aside, standing slowly from the table. He drew up to his full height before turning around. He was taller than the cadet, forcing the younger man to look up.

"Now I'm extremely interested," Alpha said slowly, his slow and methodical voice dripping with menace. "What's your designation?"

Behind him, you winced. You hated how glaringly obvious it was that the Kaminoans considered these men products. Also, this cadet might die in front of you and that would almost certainly ruin your ability to eat in the cafeteria anymore.

"CT-7115," the cadet said with a grin.

"Ah, part of Zackra Trem's group." Alpha raised his comlink. "Trem."

"Alpha," a female voice returned immediately.

"I've got one of your pilot cadets here in the cafeteria. 7115."

"Broadside," Trem said, clearly recognizing the number. "He's one of my best, Alpha. Don't break him too badly."

"No promises," Alpha replied, turning slightly back toward Broadside. Since you were seated directly behind Alpha, you couldn't see his expression yourself, but it was enough to make Broadside's grin slip for the first time.

"I'll make you a deal," Trem offered. "I'll give him hell here and then send him back to you tonight. I'm sure he could help you demonstrate something unpleasant to your ARCs."

Alpha considered that for a long moment while Broadside shifted uncomfortably. Eventually, he conceded, "That works."

Trem laughed. "Do I even wanna know what he did to you?"

"Harassed an uninterested female."

The laughter emanating from the comlink's speakers cut off abruptly. "In that case, I think we should coordinate punishments. I'll be in touch, Captain."

The transmission cut off suddenly and Alpha looked at Broadside once more. "You had best get to your training, son."

Broadside, looking suddenly concerned, nodded and hurried away. “What was that?” you asked quietly when Alpha had sat down across from you once more.

“I told his superior officer about his behavior.”

“What more than that?” you pressed.

Alpha grinned suddenly, and it was half a snarl. “It just so happens that his superior officer is Zackra Trem. It’s not my story to tell, but she’s got more reason than most to hate that kind of osik behavior.”

You could very well guess the rest of that story. Your heart twisted for Trem, though you had never met her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nice, but she wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment,” Alpha told you, not unkindly. “Feel sorry for your little pilot. She’s a Weequay who ran with Mandalorians for the past few decades. Whatever she makes him do, it won’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled at that, trying not to actually feel sorry for Broadside. In the time you had been hanging around Alpha, most of the cadets had eased up a bit on flirting, but every now and then, someone crossed the line.

Alpha picked his fork up again and shot you an intense look. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Though your immediate instinct was to be embarrassed about being overdressed, even mildly, you rolled your eyes at him. “Anything looks like too much when everyone else wears uniforms all of the time. Remember that day I wore a necklace?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Alpha said, snorting. “A necklace. What are you, a Senator?”

“Your ideas of fancy clothing are extremely skewed, I hope you know that,” you told him, adjusting your collar again.

“Hazards of the job,” Alpha replied with a casual shrug as he returned his focus to his food. “Looks okay, though.”

You paused, staring openly at him. Had Alpha just complimented you? Surely not… The universe wouldn’t survive such unexpected behavior, not without signs that space was collapsing in on itself.

Alpha noticed you watching him and lifted an eyebrow in question while he chewed. You just shook your head and applied yourself to your own lunch, avoiding his curious eyes. Explaining your thought process there would be an intensive effort, especially if your goal was to keep him from being uncomfortable.

Fortunately, avoiding Alpha’s eyes let you notice the approaching cadet sooner than your companion did, and you had time to brace yourself before the young man - even younger than you were used to seeing - opened his mouth.

“Excuse me-”

“Kriff,” Alpha said loudly, dark brows crashing down over his eyes. “Go away, kid. I’ve already ruined one cadet’s day and I have no problem adding to the list. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“N-no, sir, of course not,” the cadet told him, nodding respectfully at you as he went on. ���I wanted to talk to you. Is it true you served with General Kenobi?”

"What?" Alpha asked, sounding uncertain for the first time since you had met him. You quirked your brows, unsure of whether to be amused or concerned.

"General Kenobi," the cadet repeated. "And General Skywalker, too! I heard you went on a mission with both of them. What was it like?"

"Look, kid, I don't have time to answer all your questions about Jedi-"

"That's fine!" the cadet told him. "I already know everything there is to know about the Jedi. I want to know more about your experience, specifically."

The muscles in Alpha's jaw flexed and you quickly interrupted. "What's your name?"

"Dogma, ma'am," the cadet told you, making an apologetic face. "I know names are against regulations, but my batchers won't stop calling me that. My designation is CT-4287."

“Nice to meet you, Dogma,” you said politely.

Dogma's cheeks darkened and he gave a tight nod. "You too, ma'am."

"Stop flirting with the poor boy," Alpha chided and you gaped at the captain. So much for trying to help him.

"Dogma, I'm sure Captain Alpha would love to answer any question you have," you told the young cadet, grinning triumphantly at Alpha.

"Wait," Alpha ordered, catching at your wrist before you could stand up. His hand was ridiculously huge and you found yourself shackled by his gentle grip. "You haven't finished eating."

You grinned wider at him, slipping your wrist out from between his fingers. "I'll take it with me. Have fun, you two!"

Dogma gave a half-hearted wave while Alpha glared.

---

The rest of the afternoon was spent locked away in your office, working on the second major project you had to complete. Your concerns about the deadline were unfortunately proving correct. The icy grip of stress and fear were squeezing your heart, and you were honestly relieved when someone knocked on the door of your office.

“One moment!” you called to the unseen visitor, but they didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, they continued to pound on the door until you opened it. You were unsurprised to see Alpha on the other side, glowering down at you.

“You’re mean for a nat-born,” he grumbled, brushing you aside as he pushed into the office.

After letting the door slide closed once more, you followed him over to your desk and plopped down in your chair. Rather than sit in one of the chairs opposite you, Alpha leaned his hip against the side of your desk, much closer than you were comfortable with.

In a show of belligerence, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin as you replied, “Serves you right for being rude about my outfit.”

“I didn’t say anything bad about your clothes!” Alpha denied, befuddled.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say anything nice about them, either,” you argued childishly, conveniently forgetting his half-compliment at lunch.

Alpha frowned. “You want me to… talk about clothing with you?”

Well. Put that way, it did sound a little silly. Of all of the things you were sure Alpha did well, deep discussions about fashion might be beyond him. Honestly, they might be beyond you, too. You sighed. “No, I don’t want you to talk about clothing with me, but I was trying to look nice today. I put a lot of effort into this.”

“I don’t understand why,” Alpha said. “You look… fine… every other day.”

“Fine,” you repeated dryly. “Thanks, I was going for fine.”

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.” You were able to hear the growing frustration in his voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe don’t act like I’m wearing a ballgown to work if I show up wearing a necklace!”

“What is a ballgown?”

You stared at Alpha, the simple question making your brain screech to a halt. It was like a chasm had opened between you, and it made you reconsider a few things. Since you had arrived on Kamino, you had treated the clone troopers as if they were people you might meet out in the galaxy, but that wasn’t exactly true. You still believed that they were people - of course you did - but you were only just coming to realize how different they were from anyone you had ever met. While the troopers shared their own experiences on Kamino and had been trained to be perfect soldiers by the time they shipped out, they were startlingly young by the standards of the rest of the galaxy.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” You fiddled with one of the many datapads littering your desk rather than meet Alpha’s intense gaze. “I am sorry for siccing Dogma on you, though.”

“You should be,” he growled. “He asked ten questions before I could shake him off. Ten!”

“Wow, that’s what? Five days worth of questions?” you teased.

“Five days for you,” Alpha told you seriously. “For anyone else, that’s more than I would ever answer.”

You were unreasonably touched by the reminder that Alpha let you learn things about him that no one else would ever know. Moved by a sudden surge of warmth for the ARC captain, you repeated your prior sentiment, but more fervently. “In that case, I honestly apologize for unleashing Dogma. If there’s anything I can do to make him back off, please let me know.”

Alpha’s stare was level and unwavering. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not understanding what a wildly stupid idea that was. That was fine - you would learn… and it didn’t take long.

That night at dinner, Alpha came in and sat across from you, but instead of starting the meal in silence, he leaned across the table slightly to get your attention. Lowly, he asked, “Are you still willing to help me with Dogma?”

“Yes,” you agreed simply. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah. Flirt with me.”

You fought not to react visibly to that. Carefully keeping your face blank and your voice flat, you replied, “What.”

He leaned even closer, eyes lit with excitement. “I’ve been threatening and trying to alienate Dogma all day, but the only time he was uncomfortable was when you flirted with him.”

“I didn’t flirt with him!” you reminded him. “I just said it was nice to meet him.”

“Fine,” Alpha conceded. “We’ll just have to do better than that if we’re going to convince him to leave me alone.”

Abruptly feeling like this was the worst idea anyone had ever had, you tried to speak in your own defense. “Alpha, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

“You said you would help me,” he reminded firmly. “He’ll be here in a minute. I need your answer.”

Your heart was pounding, one of many warnings that this was a bad idea, but you nodded anyway. Alpha smiled - he actually smiled - and the expression looked menacing on his face. “Good.”

In a moment, he had circled the table to sit beside you, his huge frame making you feel ridiculously tiny in comparison. He wasn't wearing any armor at all now, and you could feel the heat of his skin through what little space there was between you.

You tried not to obviously tense as he spoke next to your ear. "There he is, get ready."

Impossibly, Alpha managed to get closer to you, tugging behind your knee slightly so that you were angled toward him. When he had finished posing you, Alpha’s large hand lifted to cradle your face. His fingers brushed over your cheekbone before trailing down to your jaw.

"My little neverd," he murmured to you, face filled with affection.

You didn't have to feign embarrassment at the warmth in his tone matched with the intense eye contact he was giving you. When you replied, you tried not to sound squeaky but only managed to sound shaky instead. "You know Mando'a is my weakness."

He laughed, a low chuckle that sent delicious chills running over your skin. “Why do you think I use it?”

“Alpha…” you chided, managing to sound mildly flirtatious.

“Come on, little one,” he urged you, voice velvet in a way you hadn’t known it could be. “Let’s go back to your- Ah, one moment, neverd. Dogma, sit down.”

You looked over to see Dogma standing at the other side of the table. You had never even noticed, your entire focus narrowed down to Alpha. Dogma looked as embarrassed as you felt. While you were focused on Dogma, Alpha’s arm snaked around you, pressing against your waist to pull you flush against his side. Your face flamed and Dogma glanced away.

“Sir, I- I’m sorry, I forgot I’m on duty tonight,” Dogma muttered, speaking so quickly it was difficult to understand him.

“Sorry to hear that, cadet,” Alpha replied gravely, flexing his fingers against your side. It made you push a little closer to him in reflex, the tip of your nose brushing the space under his jaw as you tried to look up at him. Alpha shivered, and you weren’t sure how much of the motion was acting. “Maybe later.”

Dogma gave an awkward nod and hurried off.

Alpha started laughing even before he let you go, his muscular chest shaking against your shoulder. After a moment that felt like it had stretched an hour, he pulled his arm back and slid away a bit. You immediately felt the loss of his closeness and suddenly you were horribly uncertain of what expression you were wearing. Just in case it said more than you wanted it to, you looked back at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“I feel bad,” you admitted.

"Don't," Alpha advised, looking toward the door as well. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good soldier, just a little…”

He trailed off, apparently content to let his thought stay incomplete. You glanced over to him with an eyebrow raised, but his eyes were fixed on the door. “You can see every access point in the room from here.”

“That is why I chose this spot,” you agreed.

“Switch with me tomorrow.”

“Not a chance,” you refused. “This is my spot.”

“Then I hope you like sitting next to me,” Alpha told you. Surprised, you laughed up at him and he met your eyes. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone blush on cue.”

“Hidden talent,” you explained vaguely. Alpha didn’t seem convinced, so you changed the subject. “What does neverd mean?”

“Civilian.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Civilian? That’s what you used as a term of endearment?”

Alpha blinked blankly at you. “What’s wrong with it? You are a civilian.”

“Yes, but,” you thought over it for a second, “-it’s not very romantic. Usually, people say things like ‘dear’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

“How should I have known that?” Alpha asked.

It was the ballgown situation all over again, and more than you were willing to tackle that day. “Well, some warning before you want me to go undercover would be helpful.”

Alpha snorted. “How much warning do you need?”

You pretended to consider that for a moment. “Two business days, minimum.”

He frowned fiercely. “If you get two full days of warning, I expect more. I need you to show up in a disguise with three different accents ready.”

“Harsh terms,” you told him with a smile. “With those negotiation skills, you’d make a great senator."

Alpha gave you the darkest scowl you had ever seen him muster. “Watch it, neverd.”

Idly, you wondered if Alpha would protect you from himself, but the amused glimmer in his dark eyes told you it would be unnecessary.

---

A/N - Pretty sure Broadside is wildly OOC, my bad. Also, sorry for the weird image for this chapter. I didn't really want the text bubbles in there, but I needed to keep Alpha's sassy hip lean.

Taglist - @imabeautifulbutterfly @cagrame @mysticalturtleenthusiast @marvel-starwars-nerd @lackofhonor

[t0wnspersonb]

Caught (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

ari0425

said:

Hi! Um I was wondering if you could write a Domestic Bakugou where they were doing the do and there two kids caught them? Just wondering😁

~~~~

Word Count: 1,675

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: slight smut, bad language, slight edging

~~~~

Yooooo, I had so much fun writing this lmao. I literally love writing all things Bakugou as a husband! It’s kinda short and it might be shitty lol so I apologize in advance. @ari0425​ I hope I wrote this to your liking!😭😭😭 sorry it’s so late! Obviously requests are open and I’ll try and get to as much of them as I can. I’m so sorry for not being as active with my own content, life has just been super busy for me😭 My best friend is coming over tomorrow to chop off my hair so hopefully that goes well lol, and I will be officially out of my boot (hopefully) in the next week! I’ve honestly been walking on the broken technically since last week since it wasn’t hurting so hopefully I didn’t fuck anything up. Guess I’ll find out in a week! ANYWAY, I hope you guys have a wonderful weekend and don’t be shy about any comments or requests! I literally adore you all so much and I’m so very thankful and happy you guys like reading my shit💕💕💕🤗 stay happy and safe!

~~~~

“Why not?” Bakugou growled, his muscular arms folding across his chest. The sudden movement distracted you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but appreciate your husband’s strength.

 His bulging arm muscles were thick and taut as they rested across his chest, his broad shoulders exposed to your greedy eyes; tank tops were designed with your husband’s physique in mind, you were sure of it. But you were also sure that he knew exactly what he was doing, because a smirk began to tug at his lips.

 “I told you Katsuki, we have a busy day tomorrow with the kids.” You sighed, folding your own arms over your chest, your back leaning against the counter, an eyebrow raised; challenging the large hero before you.

 His smirk dropped, a large scowl now taking its place. “It’s always about the fucking kids.”

 You rolled your eyes at his statement. 

 Despite the rough words, you knew what he meant. Bakugou adored his children, he was a doting father, in his own way; but everyone knew that he would go to the ends of the earth for his children, he would protect them and cherish them no matter what. The minute he knew that you were pregnant, both times, he had never been happier. Bakugou could account for the five happiest times in his life, when you agreed to go out with him, when he became a pro hero, when you married him, and when you gave birth to his beautiful daughter, and then his beautiful son. 

 So, while his children were his pride and joy, sometimes… sometimes… he just wanted them to fucking go away. 

 He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to have you all to himself, and fuck, did he miss you. He craved having all of your undivided attention, being able to be alone with you. It had been far too long.

 “Why can’t they go have a sleepover at Deku’s with his kids?” he huffed angrily. 

 You rolled your eyes again. “We can’t just pawn off our children to Izuku whenever you want to get your dick wet Katsu. Besides, they all hung out last week, when you and Izuku had that call about the hostage situation. I watched all of them.”

 His eyes flashed in annoyance at your statement, his tall frame stalking over to you. You could never get used to how big Bakugou was compared to your small frame, his entire being radiated strength and power, it made you feel safe, secure… and most of all, it made you nervous.

 Not because you were scared of him, far from it, but because it had been a long time since the last time you two were intimate. The physical aspect of your relationship was always there, always important to you, but recently it had just been hard to find the time to be together in that way, especially with how clingy your son started being, and how your daughter was involved in more activities at school that needed attention. 

 You could feel your heart racing as he towered over you, his large arms caging you in as his hands rested against the counter top on either side of your body, forcing you to meet his gaze.

 “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me princess, it’s not just me that wants to get my dick wet. I’m sure you’ve been wanting to use that mouth for other things than just back talking to me.” He said lowly, his voice deep and dark, one of his hands came up to grab at your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb rubbed gently against your lower lip. 

 Your breath hitched in your throat, a familiar ache beginning to settle at the bottom of your stomach.

 How did you get such a gorgeous husband?

 “So, let’s just drop off the shitty kids with the old lady and be together already.” he finished, his fingers sliding down, wrapping themselves easily around your throat. He squeezed his fingers carefully, but there was enough pressure that caused a soft whimper to escape your lips. Bakugou sneered down at you, he knew your body far too well, knew exactly how to touch you to make you bend to his will.

 But when your mind finally registered what he had said, a large scowl covered your lips, the arousal you were feeling simmering down dramatically.

 “Don’t call our kids shitty, and we are not dropping them off with your mom when she just saw them yesterday. You either calm yourself down Katsuki or I’m not going to touch you for an even longer time.” you threatened, your palm resting flat against his muscular chest.

 He growled angrily, stepping back away from you and shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “Why are you denying me so much? You fucking shit, aren’t you supposed to be taking care of your husband?” 

 “Shut up and go set the table Katsuki.” You sighed, turning towards the stove to finish dinner.

 It was silent for a moment, and then his large arms wrapped carefully around your waist, hugging you softly to his muscular body. 

 A soft smile tugged at your lips when you felt his plush lips gently press against your cheek, and then he was gone. You turned to look at him stalk out of the kitchen and into the living room, probably to go round-up the kids.

 Bakugou Katsuki might be rough, but underneath that hard exterior that man was entirely soft when it came to you and his kids.

 ****

 This wasn’t how you imagined this morning going. 

 Soft moans were being muffled by hungry kisses, the sound of ruffling sheets and skin slapping against one another surrounded the quiet room.

 Perfection. 

 That was this was.

 “Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock princess.” Bakugou growled, his hips thrusting deep into your core. 

 You whimpered softly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the immense amount of pleasure. He filled you to the brim, your tight heat engulfing him completely. 

 This was what he had been missing, what you had been missing. The pleasure, the intimacy of feeling each other’s bare bodies sliding against one another, it was all too much.

 “Katuski, w-wait…” You panted out, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, sliding down to hold onto his forearms, the familiar pressure was beginning to bubble up again, filling you up and aching to break through.

 “Again? This is your third one princess, did you miss my cock that much?” he mocked you, one of his hands reaching down to rub at your clit, ghosting over the bundle of nerves, not quite putting pressure down, but the touch alone was enough to cause your body to arch up off of the bed in pleasure. You could feel tears prickling at your eyes, your body aching for release, except now that Bakugou knew that you were close, he was going to drag it out as much as possible.

 The cruel bastard.

 “Katsuki please,” you cried, his thrusts slowing down, he dragged his member out of your body before pressing back into your tight heat deeply, savoring every second of your begging, of your wet core.

 “Beg harder princess.” he growled out, a sadistic smirk etching itself onto his lips. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

 A whimper tore through your lips at his cruel words and slow pace.

 You ached for release now, no words being able to form in your mouth, which didn’t sit well with Bakugou since he gave a particular hard and deep thrust at your silence.

 His thumb suddenly pressed down hard against your clit, rubbing fast and rough, causing a jolt of pleasure to ripple through your body.

 You felt it then, the wall cracking as your release began to build up and up and…

 “Mama?” 

 You and Bakugou froze, both of your heads snapping over to the small child that stood near the now open door. Your son rubbed at his eyes sleepily, his teddy bear dragged against the ground in his other hand.

 You would’ve thought it was the most adorable sight you had ever seen, except for the fact that your husband was still buried deep inside of you. You silently thanked the universe for the fact that the sheets were still wrapped around your guys’ body, covering you up completely.

 Your son looked at you in confusion for a second, taking in the scene before his little three-year-old eyes and then…

 His face turned angry. He was the spitting image of Bakugou, except for the eyes and his personality, that took after you.

 “Wow really?” your daughter suddenly appeared at the door, looking at you guys in disgust. While your son might look like your husband, your daughter looked just like you, minus the hair and her personality. Those of which she inherited from her father.

 The personality part was a bit unfortunate, especially considering how much she and Bakugou butted heads, especially now that she had just turned nine.

 “Get off my mama!” Your son began to yell. “You are hurting her!” 

 Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as your son began taking a step towards you guys only for your daughter to grab his hand. 

 “She’s fine.” She said curtly. “Let’s go watch cartoons. Leave mama and shitty papa alone right now.”

 Your lips twitched in amusement at her words, she was definitely Bakugou’s first born, that much was obvious.

 “Oi, you shitty fucking brat what did you just call me!?” Bakugou growled, a tick mark appearing above his head as he looked at his children. 

 “Shitty papa.” Your daughter said simply and closed the door as she walked off with her brother in tow.

 “What the fuck! Who the fuck taught you that word you little shit!?” Bakugou screamed out.

 Laughter bubbled up through your lips, causing Bakugou to scream at you next for laughing. 

 But you couldn’t help it, your heart was entirely full right now. 

[love-toxin]

a/n: in which mirio and tamaki come together for the one they adore. 

warnings: gn!reader, established relationship, university au ua, quirk kink, kabeshiri, very mild yandere tamaki, masturbation, voyeurism, cum eating, forced oral, dubcon, reader is a little bitchy. 

word count: 1.6k

Part of this was your own fault, but you knew that most of it was because your boyfriend just couldn't mask his emotions, no matter how hard he tried. When he was happy his smile was dazzling, when he was upset you could feel it radiating off of him--and when he was horny you just couldn't get away from him, even if it was the middle of the night and you knew his roommate was sleeping just on the other side of the thin dorm walls. 

Mirio had his warm hands around your waist, his grip like steel while he was yanking you back to meet his thrusts and chasing that delicious pleasure he never got enough of. You were only lucky enough that you got to steady yourself against the wall, your face just a few inches from it and your thoughts distracted by the fact that you were definitely going to be walking weird afterwards. Absolute filth spewed from his lips, to the point that your boyfriend swatted your ass with an open palm just to make you whimper--and when you did, and his name rolled around on your tongue, that was when you felt your balance start to shift and your eyes widened in shock as you fell face-first into the wall. But instead of bashing your nose and reprimanding him for it afterwards, you pitched forwards and went straight through it like it was made of nothing but air, only for the feeling to tighten around your waist and cause you to realize that you were stuck from the waist down. 

“Mirio! Don’t just sit there, get me-!” 

You hoped at once that you wouldn't get caught, that the lump of blankets on the bed you hovered over was empty and Tamaki had gotten up to use the toilet--but then they moved, and he sat up with a jolt, and your face burned even brighter as the covers slid off him and you were met with a sight you thought you'd never see. 

“T-Tamaki-?!” 

Your boyfriend's best friend whom you'd seen on so many occasions, the one who would quietly smile and wave whenever you entered their dorm, who would use his manners whenever you offered him food, who seemed to be a shy but upstanding young man...his clothes had been abandoned at the foot of his bed, and he sat with a hand wrapped around his cock that twitched to attention as soon as you laid your eyes on it. 

"P-Please, don't-!"

His voice cracked behind chattering teeth, but Mirio cut off whatever plea he had in mind as he called out to you from the other side of the wall, where your lower half still remained. 

"Honey? Is Tamaki there? What's he doing?"

The question was too blunt and you were in no mind to try and decide whether to make up an answer or not, so you just let your response spill out. 

"He--mmph!"

Pouncing on you at the last second, Tamaki clapped a hand over your mouth and frantically tried to shush you. His palm smelled of sweat and tasted as such when your lips parted on instinct and your tongue met warm skin. 

"I'm sorry..."

He whispered, eyes alight with fear more intense than usual. Tamaki had crouched by your side to catch your mistake and because of it, you had a full view between his legs that he only then seemed to realize. He rushed to use his free hand to grab his covers, or maybe a discarded piece of clothing to throw over himself--but only until the worst happened. You felt your boyfriend shift forward, and his roommate's eyes widened like saucers as Mirio's face popped out from the wall in his most typical fashion. 

For a moment silence reigned over the bedroom, and though it was ladened heavily with tension you would have preferred it to what Mirio blurted out. 

"Tamaki? What are you doing?" 

Caught. Tamaki was done, as far as his expression went. Terror gripped his features in seconds and he pulled his hand off of you, shuffling as far away as he could on his tiny little dorm mattress. Excuses rose up and died on his tongue half-formed, words falling away sooner than he could catch them but it was obvious that he knew that Mirio knew exactly what he had been up to. The walls were thin. The only question was how long he had been doing it under your noses. 

But while you and undoubtedly Tamaki as well imagined what his punishment might be, or whether the blond might throw him out completely and renounce their friendship--something had evidently been brewing in Mirio's mind, something that would start with him reaching through the wall with his quirk and grabbing Tamaki by both of his arms. 

"W-Wait-!"

No hesitation whatsoever, Mirio yanked his best friend forward so far that Tamaki himself plunged face first into the wall--and with his cheek pressed uncomfortably against it, you were left with little room to get away from his hips sidling up right against your face, and his cock thudding against your cheek from how closely he was forced to move. 

"Mmph-! M-Mirio-!" 

With the sweat and musk invading your senses and the firmness of his flesh grinding against your smooth skin, you struggled not to open your mouth too much to avoid anything further...but that didn't seem to be an option once Mirio bucked into you from behind, and the moan that ripped through you so suddenly caused your lips to part around the base of Tamaki's spit-shined dick. Thin, wiry hairs scratched at your skin and the heady smell of him was starting to make you feel woozy, and it only got worse when Mirio loosened his grip for Tamaki to pull himself away only to yank him back--and this time, you didn't even have the chance to close your mouth when he slipped by your lips and bashed the back of your throat by accident. It didn't feel like it was entirely though, considering the stuttery mess of sounds that fluttered from Tamaki's throat at your mouth enveloping him in warmth that his hand could never match. 

Perhaps those sounds weren't entirely normal for him, though, because before you could bat an eyelash or close your lips around him he was thrusting against you in sharp, short little bursts, until he couldn't take it another moment and spilled himself down your throat without warning in a searing flash flood. Cum jetted towards your stomach and you choked, gagged, coughed around the cock that was already making your jaw ache, but he couldn't be moved for anything and he settled in like cement with a deep sigh as he fed you every last drop he had saved up. He must have been edging for so long, you thought briefly--but did it matter? Tamaki was a dirty pervert and now you'd have to live with the fact that you swallowed his cum like some weird slut. You still weren't over the fact that he had been jerking off to you, even if Mirio was part of the picture as well. Or maybe that made it especially strange. 

"Sweetie? Are you okay?"

You muffled a weak reply around the softening mass of flesh tucked into your mouth, bitterness spreading over your tongue at some of the excess that spilled over. Mirio rubbed his warm hands over your hips to calm you, his own cock still twitching within you...and Tamaki's palms came to rest in your hair, his body no longer pinned up to the wall like some demented man intent on peeking on his neighbors. 

"...I think Tamaki has a crush on you, honey. I had a feeling he'd be listening…so maybe you should help him out one more time? Just to get it out of his system?" 

If you could talk, you would have a million questions--but not only was Tamaki making it impossible with the way he stuffed your mouth full, but Mirio was rolling his hips in an effort to distract you, soft grunts and mewling of your name as he let his cock catch on your rim before sinking it slowly back in, and feeding you every inch like your body was swallowing him itself. It was a curse that Mirio didn't even have to bother with messing around with your more sensitive bits, since he could bring you as much pleasure as you could take with just his cock and a few sweet words. 

"I-I'll last longer this time...I pr-promise!" 

Tamaki's plea alone was enough to warn you that this was all a big ploy. Mirio was never so careless and Tamaki was never this bold. Idiot boys thinking that they could get away with setting you up like this just pissed you off….but even if you were going to chew them out later, and maybe even deny Mirio any more privileges for a couple days, you might as well enjoy the pleasure they were offering up for now. Just like you would do any time you and Mirio snuck away on your mock patrols, you flicked your tongue against one of the thick veins on Tamaki's shaft and he melted instantly. So sensitive it was almost pathetic, and Mirio wasn't much better--he couldn't even wait once he heard his best friend moaning through the wall, and smacked you from behind just to feel you tighten up as he rocked into you like he was just so desperate. 

"Last longer" your ass, they wouldn't be able to keep it in for a couple minutes considering the filth that spewed from Mirio's mouth and trembled under Tamaki's breath. Maybe you could get away with a bit of harmless guilt-tripping for this "accident" of sorts….but only once they at least tried to make the person you never realized they had been fighting over cum.

[bitchin-beskar]

Royal Affairs - I

A Choice is Made

Rating: T (Will change to M in future chapters)

Warnings: None, for this chapter. 

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Hey all!! This is a brand new AU that I’ve decided to dive headfirst into!! An anon sent @absurdthirst a message, asking if anyone had written King Din before, and I saw it on my feed, and that inspired this series!! (on the off chance that that anon follows me, if you wanna send me a message or something, I’d be glad to credit you as the inspiration behind this story!) This is an AU story where Mandalore never fell to the Empire, and Din is the King by right of conquest (winning the Darksaber). More of the AU will be explored in the story, but if you have any questions, feel free to send me some asks! I’ll gladly answer what I can, as long as it doesn’t spoil anything!! I wholly blame @mxndoscyarika for being the reason this chapter is out so soon. She is an enabler. (@ollypopp also got to hear a lot of rambles about this au... i’m not sorry). I hope you guys like it!!!!! Please let me know what you guys think!!!

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment!! I love hearing what you guys think!!

When you’d gone to bed last night, you certainly weren’t expecting anything monumentous to happen today. Today was supposed to be just another day spent running your little apothecary with your sister, before going to sleep and doing it all over again tomorrow. 

But as you stared down at the small little green alien child hiding behind your counter, you knew that today wasn’t going to go the way you planned. 

“Hey, little one,” you murmured, crouching down, but staying far enough back that he wouldn’t feel trapped by you. “How’d you get in here, huh? Where are your parents?”

He looked up at you with his huge round eyes, his little lip quivering, and your heart broke. 

“Hey, it’s alright sweetheart,” you whispered, holding your hands out. “I’m not gonna hurt you, it’s okay–” You were a little thrown off when he waddled straight into your arms, and you instinctively clutched him to your chest. He buried his little face into your tunic and began to cry, little heart-wrenching sobs as his tiny body shook in your arms. 

Standing, you quickly moved to the back room, seeing your sister in the middle of bottling some healing bacta salve. 

“A’denla, can you cover the shop for me?”

She turned, about to ask why when she saw the sobbing child in your arms. You mouthed that you’d explain later, and she just nodded, turning and heading for the counter, leaving you alone in the back with the little one. 

You rocked the little baby back and forth, humming softly as you tried to get him to calm down. You didn’t have a whole lot of experience with children, but you knew enough from helping watch the children of other villagers while they ran their shops when you were younger. 

His tearful cries eventually slowed to little whimpers and hiccups, and you were able to encourage him to detach from your shirt. He rubbed at his eye with his little arm, and you were startled to see a dark green, almost black bruise on his tiny wrist. 

“Who hurt you, little one?” You gently took his hand, inspecting the bruise. He whimpered when you brushed your fingers over his skin. “I bet that hurts something fierce, huh?” 

You take him over to where your sister had the bacta salve out, setting him down gently on the countertop. “Can I use some of this, sweetheart? It’ll help you heal faster.” You’re not sure if he can understand you, but then he takes a long moment to look at the little bottle of blue gel you’re holding before looking up at you, solemnly nodding, his big ears flapping a little with the motion. 

You step away to wash your hands, grabbing a small strip of gauze as well. Dipping your fingers into the salve, you gently brush it over his bruise, your heart twisting every time his little features scrunch up in pain. Once his arm is sufficiently covered, you carefully wrap the gauze around the bruise, securing it with a small clip. 

He looks at his arm before looking back at you, cooing, a wide smile on his face, showing off his baby teeth. His arms raise in the universal sign for “up please!” and you’re unable to deny him, scooping him up in your arms, and cradling him once more to your chest. 

Pressing his face against your skin with a contented sigh, he nuzzles against you for a moment before you feel his breathing begin to even out. “It must be exhausting being so little, huh?” 

You carry him over to the small bassinet you have set up for when you’re watching your brother’s baby girl when he’s busy. The little child fits easily in the small padded space, and you carefully cover him up before stepping back. You have no idea how he got to your shop, and he’s not exactly a race you recognize. Hopefully his parents are somewhere nearby, otherwise you’re going to have a hard time finding them. Although, you’d noticed that his bruises seemed to be in the shape of a hand, and you really didn’t want to place him back into the arms of abusers. 

The tinkling of a bell rang through the shop, signalling the arrival of a customer. You quickly shut the door on the small room with the bassinet, walking towards the counter where your sister is. A’denla isn’t exactly the best with people, and you know she prefers to work in the back, so as soon as you get to the counter, you nudge her away so that she can go back to packaging up products. 

She gives you a grateful smile, ducking into the back as you turn to face two of perhaps the strangest customers you’ve ever met. One is a Rodian, which isn’t necessarily odd in of itself, but usually they tend to stay away from Mandalore. Most Mandalorian’s aren’t exactly known for their tolerance towards other races. The other appears to be human, but you’ve learned to not judge people by their outward appearances.  

“We’re looking for our bounty,” the Rodian grunts in Huttese, and your eyes widen a bit. Bounty hunters. You should’ve known. You’re also surprised that Huttese is the language he chose, especially considering the two main languages on Mandalore were Mando’a and Basic. Luckily for him, you’ve always been a fan of learning different languages, and you understand basic Huttese. “It got away from us. It’s very dangerous. Have you seen it?”

You raise an eyebrow. “What does your bounty look like?”

The other hunter chimes in, this time in Basic. “It’s fifty years old but looks like a child. Some weird green frog-like thing with big ears. It’s incredibly dangerous, and you need to tell us right now if you’ve seen it.”

You manage to school your features, but internally, you’re shocked. Their bounty is the little green child you just patched up and is now sleeping in your back room? And he’s fifty? 

Something about the way the two hunters are acting strikes you as odd, and you make a split second decision. You lie. 

“I’ve not seen any creatures like that,” your voice is smooth and calm, betraying nothing. “But I’ve been in my shop all day. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

For a moment, you think they don’t believe you, but the human quickly nods, grasping his fellow hunter’s arm and tugging him out of your shop. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, sagging a little as the door swung shut. 

You ducked back to the backroom, seeing your sister waiting with her arms crossed. 

“You wanna tell me why you just lied outright to two bounty hunters?” She hissed, eyes flashing. “Do you know how kriffing stupid that was?” 

You stared blankly at her. “Do you really think I’d lie to bounty hunters without a damn good reason?” Your voice was incredulous. “I’m not a di’kut, A’denla.”

She huffed, crossing her arms. “Alright, what’s the reason then?” 

You sighed, slumping against one of the tables. “They said their bounty is fifty years old, but the little one who came into our shop? He’s a baby A’denla. He may be fifty, but it’s clear he doesn’t age the same as us! What could a baby do to warrant a bounty? He was hurt, and he was hurt badly. He was sobbing and shaking and it’s clear he was terrified. I wasn’t about to hand him over to the bounty hunters who probably hurt him that bad in the first place!”

A’denla looks shocked at your little outburst, before softening slightly. She’s got a soft spot for little kids too, and you know she wouldn’t be okay with handing a child over to bounty hunters. 

“Fine, but if this brings hell down on us, I’m telling buir it was your fault, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbed a basket of products, and went back out front to restock the shelves.

***

The little one had slept for a couple of hours, but now he was wide awake, and demanding your attention. You’d done your best to keep him occupied out of sight in case the bounty hunters came back, but so far, the coast had been clear. 

The door suddenly burst open, and Vyshena rushed inside. She owned a shop a couple doors down that sold mechanical parts, so she was a regular, often needing basic medical supplies to patch herself up after being a little too careless with a socket wrench.

“What do you need to–” You started, only to be cut off as Vyshena practically flung herself onto the counter, her grease stained fingers gripping the wood lightly.

“Did you hear?!”

You almost winced at the squeal, and you felt little claws dig into your legs. You looked down, to see the child grasping your leg, his ears drooping as he looked up at you with sorrowful eyes.

“Did I hear what, Vys?”

You bent down to pick up the little one, smoothing one hand over his ear as Vys started in on a rant.

“The King is coming! Apparently his kid went missing and he’s tracking him down! Y’know, he used to be a bounty hunter, so it only makes sense that he’d track his own kid down, apparently there’s a bounty from the Empire on the little guy and–”

You looked up as Vys suddenly stopped, and your brow furrowed as she made a choking sound, her eyes wide as saucers as she stared at you.

“And what, Vys?”

Instead of answering, her arm raised shakily, pointing at the little bundle you held on your hip. Her mouth was gaping, and she looked like she was about to pass out.

“Vys, are you alright?”

Her eyes flickered between your face and the kid multiple times before she sucked in a gasp. “WHAT?”

You actually flinched back at her sudden shout, and the kid whimpered, burying his face in your side.

“Vys!”

“I’m sorry, but how do you– where did– HOW DID YOU GET THE KING’S KID??”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry, what?”

“YOU HEARD ME!”

“What is all this racket about– oh, hi Vys.” A’denla came out from the back, her hands full of bottled bacta salve. “What’s going on?”

Vys sputtered, and so you mumbled “Apparently this is the King’s son?” As you gesture to the giggling baby on your hip.

A’denla’s jaw dropped, and she nearly dropped the bacta salve. “Are you kidding me??”

You shook your head, feeling faint, and Vys started laughing hysterically, which got the little one going too. “Not helping,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help but smile at how happy the little one looked.

“Maker, what are we gonna do?”

Your sister’s moan was mostly drowned out by the giggling, but you frowned thoughtfully. “Vys, hold him please,” you said, handing her the still laughing child, even as your request caused her to audibly shut her mouth. You rummaged through the drawers behind the counter before you found a spare sheet of paper and a pen. A’denla tried to see what you were doing but you waved her off, writing as fast as you could.

“There,” you muttered, folding up the paper, handing it to Vys in exchange for the kid. “Take this to one of the guards. They should be able to get it to the King quickly enough. It states that his son is safe, and here in the apothecary. We’re gonna close early just as an added precaution.”

Vys nodded, and you turned to A’denla. “I also wrote what I could remember about the two bounty hunters who came in, they’re probably the ones who kidnapped the kid to begin with.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” your sister sighed. “Maker, am I glad you lied to them when they asked about the kiddo.”

“Me too.” You turned back to Vys. “Go, get that to a guard. I’ll wait here.”

Vys nodded shakily, still a little pale, but she dashed out of the shop. A’denla opened her mouth, but closed it again quickly.

“Go on, spit it out.”

She shook her head. “Buir is never gonna believe this.” You snickered, imaging your mother’s face when she found out that the King of Mandalore’s son had wandered into your apothecary.

“You should go home and tell her. I’d hate for her to hear about this from someone else.” A’denla looked worried, but you shook her off. “I’m closing the store anyways. It’s not like I won’t need your help.”

“If you’re sure?”

“Yes, go.”

After a little more persuading, A’denla finally left, leaving you and the little one alone in the shop. He was still perched on your hip, and for a moment, you stood in the middle of the store, mind racing.

“I can’t believe you’re actually the King’s son,” you muttered, looking down at the wide-eyed child. “Just my luck, huh?”

He cooed at you, playing with the fabric of your top. Your eyes fell to the gauze wrapped around his arm, and you sighed. “I guess we better check on that, buddy. Make sure you’re healing alright.”

Just like before, he was a good patient, not too squirmy as you carefully unwound the gauze. His bruise was healing nicely, and you carefully applied a little more bacta for good measure, re-wrapping his arm. Right as you were pinning it in place, a loud banging sounded from the front door.

You jumped, hand flying to your chest. Carefully picking the kid up, you made your way to the door, peering through the curtains, eyes widening as you realized just who was standing there.

Unlocking the door, you pulled it open, stepping to the side to let the odd looking group inside.

You recognized Fennec Shand, a notorious bounty hunter and partner to Boba Fett, who was also a part of the group. Both were known for their close kinship with the King. There was a woman you didn’t recognize, but judging by the small tattoo on her upper cheek, she had ties to the Republic.

Finally, clad in full beskar’gam, was the King. His beskar was unpainted, the silver gleaming in the low light of your shop. He had no shortage of weapons, his spear was strapped to his back, and a blaster and various vibroblades were strapped to his legs. But the most prominent was the Darksaber that hung from his belt.

Dropping into a curtsy, you bowed your head in respect, a quiet “my king,” leaving your lips. You’d heard stories about the King, about his strength and speed in battle, but especially from his time as a bounty hunter. He’d been one of, if not the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, before winning the Darksaber from Maul in a duel, granting him the right to the throne of Mandalore.

Some said he was cruel, terrifying and dangerous, not to mention volatile. You had no way of knowing. He wasn’t one for major public appearances, so knowledge on his true personality was reserved for those closest to him.

There was a tense silence for a moment when suddenly, the child on your hip reached his little arms out towards the King, babbling loudly. He had a large smile on his face and was wriggling desperately to get out of your grasp. 

The King took a step forward, his own hands stretching out towards his son. You carefully handed the child over, your bare hands brushing over the King’s leather gloves as you transferred the little one to his father’s arms. 

“Su’cuy, ad’ika.” 

The King’s voice was barely more than a whisper as he pressed his helmet against the little one’s brow, his hand pressing against the child’s back to hold him close. 

You fold your arms in front of you, absently noting the way that you already miss the comforting weight of the kid on your hip. You look away from the King and his son, not wanting to intrude on their reunion. 

The others seem a little uncomfortable, like you, and thankfully, the woman you don’t know breaks the awkward silence. 

“You said in your note that you had two bounty hunters come looking for him?”

You’re looking at the woman, so you don’t notice the way the King’s head whips in your direction, nor the way his hand falls to rest on the hilt of the Darksaber. 

“Mmhmm, a Rodian and a human.” You pause. “Actually, I’d almost forgotten, we had security cameras installed about a month ago, they should be on the holos.”

“Why bother with security cameras?” Fett cut in, and you were taken aback by the blatant suspicion in his voice. “This isn’t exactly a high crime area.”

You sighed. “We had a break in a couple months ago. Some di’kut took off with half our supply of bacta salve. We’re one of the only apothecaries on Mandalore licensed to make it, and unfortunately, that usually means we have a large stock, and the prices are pretty steep.” 

“You didn’t report it.”

You narrowed your eyes at the accusatory tone. “I figure if someone’s going to go to all that trouble just to steal bacta salve and not even touch the register or safe, they probably needed it. It’s diluted when it’s in a salve, so it can’t be sold on the black market, unlike pure bacta.” 

“What’s this?”

You started at the King’s voice, turning to look in his direction, seeing him inspecting the gauze wrapped around the little one’s arm. You frowned. “The little one had a pretty bad bruise, it was nearly black. I applied some bacta salve and wrapped it. I checked it just before you got here, it looks a lot better.”

“And I suppose you just thought it was okay to–”

“Fett.”

Your eyes widened at the King’s tone, looking away as the green-armoured bounty hunter grumbled, but stayed silent. 

“I’m a licensed medic, and I have been for close to ten years now. I know what I’m doing.” Perhaps your voice was a little defensive, but you weren’t going to apologize for easing the kid’s pain, no matter the opinion of grumpy men in beskar. 

“Thank you.”

You nodded at the King, eyes flicking up to his helmet before looking away, your cheeks growing warm. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but something about the way he seemed to stare directly into your soul, even through the beskar made you feel... odd.

He handed the little one to the woman with the tattoo, before turning back to you. “May I see the holos?”

You nodded again, turning and walking towards the back of the shop, where the holos were stored. It wasn’t a large room, an old refurbished closet really, and it was a bit tight for one person, let alone a second covered in beskar. You opened up the data station and pulled up the holos from earlier, trying to ignore the silent mountain of a man behind you. You could feel his eyes on your back, and you tried to suppress the shiver that ran down your spine. 

You found the correct timestamp, and enlarged the holovid, pointing to the figures on the screen. “This is when they entered.”

Suddenly, there was a large warm hand on the small of your back as the King stepped up behind you, his other hand coming down to rest on the surface of the table, caging you in as he leaned forward. He was peering over your shoulder, and you inadvertently sucked in a breath at the sudden closeness. 

The two of you watched the footage in silence. Unfortunately, you didn’t have audio to go with the holos, so all the King would have to go off of is the visual. 

“Is there anything distinctive about them that you can remember?” He murmured, the rasp of his helmet’s modulator doing nothing to hide the exquisite way his voice sounded in your ear. 

“Um–” You trailed off, trying to focus, which was especially hard with the King so kriffing close. “Uh, the Rodian? He spoke Huttese.” You could’ve smacked yourself. Of course the Rodian spoke Huttese, it was a common language bounty hunters learned, and Rodian’s were known for speaking it along with their native Rodese. 

The King let out a sigh, and just as you were about to apologize, he thanked you. 

“That– that helps. Thank you, very much.” His hand pressed a little more into your back, and you fought the urge to arch into his touch. You weren’t some child with a crush damn it, you were a village shopkeeper and he was your king. It would be entirely inappropriate, although your traitorous mind was quick to remind you that his touching you could be considered inappropriate as well. 

You told your mind to shut the hell up. 

“You’re welcome, my king.” 

There, that was a perfectly respectable answer. Now all you had to do was avoid embarrassing yourself any further, and–

“Please, darling. Call me Din.”

Well, there went that plan. 

You bit your lip and looked down at the keyboard, hoping that the King–Din, didn’t see your hands tighten at the sound of his voice when he called you darling. 

“Can you give me a copy of these holovids?” 

You nodded, grateful for something, anything to distract you from the peculiar man at your back. Copying the holos onto a drive unfortunately didn’t take very long, and when you turned to hand them to the Ki–Din, your eyes widened when you realized just how close he was to you. Your chests were practically touching, and you had to tilt your head up to be able to look at his helmet, which was aimed directly at you. 

He carefully took the drive, tucking it into one of the pockets on his belt, before stepping back, crossing one arm over his chest and bowing. To you. 

“You’ve done me a great service. I won’t forget it.” 

You swallowed harshly. For a moment, it had sounded like he’d said “I won’t forget you,” although it had to be wishful thinking on your part. He was your King, you were so far removed from royalty it wasn’t even funny. He was just being polite. 

“I’m just glad you were able to reunite with your son. He seems to love you a lot.”

“His name is Grogu. I was blessed with him as my foundling, and I treasure him greatly.”

You smiled. It was clear as day how much the King loved his son, and how the little one returned those feelings tenfold. To be blessed with a foundling was a great honor, and it didn’t surprise you one bit that your King had been blessed in such a way. 

He stepped back to make space for you to leave the small room, and you hurried to where the others were undoubtedly waiting, only just now realizing how long the two of you had been gone.

Fett and Shand were gone by the time you got back to the main floor of your shop. Just the woman and the little one–Grogu–stood their waiting. The King easily plucked Grogu from the woman’s grasp, and with a tight nod, she left your shop as well, leaving you alone with the King and his son. 

He turned back to you, his helmet once more trained on your face. “I must thank you again, for everything.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the gratitude dripping from his words. “It was nothing, my king,” you murmured, curtsying once more. 

As you slowly straightened back up, the King reached out and ever so gently lifted your chin, the leather of his glove pressing into your skin. You were forced to look at him, even as the fluttering in your stomach renewed with vigour.

“I’ve already told you, darling. Call me Din.” 

Permanent Tags: @theocatkov, @cosmicbug379, @marydjarin, @perropascal, @mxndoscyarika, @hayley-the-comet, @phoenixhalliwell, @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @pedroepascal, @roxypeanut, @rynadjarin-reading, @anerdydragon, @justanotherblonde23, @rosiefridayrogersunday, @littlevodika, @sunsetmando, @bucketbunny

Din Djarin Tags:  @pedrhoepascal, @rynadjarin-reading, @emzd34, @anerdydragon, @bigthicklongschlong, @baby-gurl-jazzy, @fantasticwizardnerd, @bucketbunny

Story Tags: @all-hallows-evie​, @houseofthirst​

If you’d like to be tagged in any of my works, please fill out this quick survey, or shoot me a message!!

[matsbarzal]

for the august prompt list!!! random au 11. prince/princess with andrei svechnikov? :)

au 11. prince/princess

pairing: andrei svechnikov x fem!reader word count: 1.5k warning: alternative universe, mentions of arranged marriage, potentially only part 1 of a series

Andrei knew what was expected of him as the second son, and the younger brother of the Crown Prince. He’s known his entire life what was expected of him, the path he was meant to take, the choices he was meant to make. He was a diligent son, and he loved his brother and his parents, he knew he would do anything to guarantee the success and prosperity of his home.

As the sister to the Crown Prince of your Kingdom, you knew it was inevitable you would one day have to do your duty to guarantee the prosperity and reign of your country. It was something you had been dreading for so long, dreading the inevitable unhappiness that would one day come to guarantee the safety of your country.

“It’ll all be worth it in the end; do you know how many families you’re saving from being ripped apart? How many young men you’re saving from the hardships of a never-ending war?”

It was the sentence you had heard from everyone, everyone telling you that the arrangement was for the best. Not only did it guarantee the end to a decade-long war, but it also instilled that you would do anything to guarantee the success of your Kingdom and its people.

“I’ve heard he’s a real catch, ya know? Heard he’s one of the most sought out bachelor’s in Barnaul. And I’ve heard he’s very handsome, even better looking than the Crown Prince.”

Groaning as you looked at the girl, a cheeky grin flying your way. Lyra had been the one and only lady-in-waiting you had accepted to come on the journey to Barnaul, a tight-knit friendship forming over the years.

“Ly, I don’t care if he’s the most handsome bachelor there is. Do you know how dehumanizing it is having to marry so your younger brother doesn’t have to deal with a war basically caused by a cockfight between my father and my future husbands’ father? It’s pathetic.”

Shrugging her shoulders with a sympathetic smile, the girl smiled tightly in your direction. “Maybe you’ll end up liking him, just because the situation itself isn’t the best, doesn’t mean he’s awful.”

The trip to Barnaul wasn’t a long one, the time flying by and before you knew it, your father and his guards were walking into the throne as you and your mother trailed in behind him, guards flanking both of your sides.

“Ah, King Igor! It has been far too long, my friend.”

You tried to hide the grimace that started to cross your face when you observed your father and your future husband’s father embrace. It was a tense hug, years of animosity floating through the room, everyone on edge as they waited for what was to come.

“Y/N! Come here please, darling,” obliging, the guard’s allowed you to pass by them so you could stand next to your father.

A curtesy was directed towards King Igor, a pleasant smile overtaking your lips as you observed the man in front of you. His accent was strong as he addressed you, the kindness in his eyes the only reassuring measure of his persona.

“Even more beautiful than your father said, you and my son will make a beautiful pair,” gesturing with his hand behind him, you followed his gesture to meet the eyes of a tall man. His hair was gelled back, a maroon suit covering his skin as he made his way forward. It was easy to tell that this was Andrei, your intended, the man you were meant to marry to unite your kingdoms.

At least Lyra was right about one thing… he was incredibly good-looking.

Bowing towards you, a curtesy was met in return before he grabbed your hand to place a gentle kiss on the back of your knuckles. A warmth instantly shot up your neck, your body tingling at the feeling of his lips pressed against your skin.

“Princess Y/N, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Welcome to Barnaul.”

His voice was smooth, but deep and heavily accented. He had a kind and happy exterior, his smile bright and his eyes welcoming.

“The pleasure is mine, Prince Andrei. I’ve seen only a small amount of it, but your home looks incredibly beautiful. I look forward to seeing more of it.”

Your response was met well, a proud smile adorning King Igor’s and your father’s faces, Andrei smiling slightly in your direction. You had forgotten that he too was being forced into a situation, unable to choose his future bride or the person he wanted to marry. He was just as much of a victim as you were, you couldn’t blame him for the actions of his parents, regardless of how much you itched to do so.

The days in between your arrival and your upcoming wedding passed smoothly, there was only minimal interaction between you and your fiancé, as you opted to remain with your parents for the short duration they had planned to stay in Barnaul.

The day of your wedding came quicker than you were expecting, observing yourself in the full-length mirror as the white silk was slowly wrapped around you. You couldn’t deny that you looked beautiful, the dress fitting to your body in all the right ways, the makeup adorning your cheeks a beautiful addition.

You didn’t hear the small tap on the door until Lyra hoisted it open, just to slam it shut immediately.

“You can’t be here! It’s bad luck!”

The knock against the door was heard again, Lyra pushing herself out of the room to confront the person on the other side, who you could only assume to be Andrei if it was bad luck that they were here. Who cared about luck when you were already marrying just to prevent your Kingdom’s from destroying each other more?

The door opened, but instead of Lyra, Andrei popped himself through, gently closing the wood behind him. No point in hiding yourself now.

“You know, it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” quirking an eyebrow at you, all the man did was shrug his shoulders as he grabbed one of the empty champagne flutes from the table.

“We’re getting married so our fathers don’t put each other in an early grave. I don’t think we had much luck to start with, darling fiancé.”

The attempt to hold in the snort that dropped from your lips failed, a grin taking over his face at your reaction. He had a nice smile, you could admit that, realistically you knew that if you had met him under any other circumstances, it probably could have turned out wonderfully, but it was hard to determine how an arranged marriage would come to be.

“I wanted to come and… talk to you before we had to vow our lives to each other. I know you’ve been spending time with your parents before they leave, and I’ve respected that and didn’t want to overstep. I just… I can’t force myself to marry someone I’ve had one conversation with in passing. I don’t want a loveless marriage, Y/N.”

Scoffing slightly at his words, you rested your arm against the couch as you sat down across from him. “Would you like me to be honest, or would you like the diplomatic response I’m sure you’re expecting?”

“I’d prefer the honesty, but if you’d rather the diplomacy than that’s your choice,” shrugging at your words, he pressed the edge of the champagne flute to his lips and sipped at the now-filled cup.

“I’m sure you’re not an unlovable person, you actually seem quite lovely. And maybe… to a certain degree, I have been avoiding you, but I’m not sure what’s expected of me here. I can’t force myself to love someone I barely know, I didn’t even have a choice in this marriage, but I sure as hell have a choice in my own feelings.”

Nodding in understanding, you watched Andrei’s hands shake as he placed the champagne flute back on the table in front of him before he stood up and made his way to the couch you were sitting on, gently occupying the seat beside you.

“I don’t expect you to love me yet, but I hope you’ll at least give me a chance. I promise there’s a little bit of substance behind my pretty face, not much, but some,” rolling your eyes with a small laugh at his words, you shrugged your shoulders slightly.

“I never planned on not giving you a chance, I just hope you don’t expect it to work-out overnight. Unfortunately, it took me two years to even like my younger brother. You’ve got a lot to live up to.”

A mock scoff dropped from his lips as Andrei smiled towards you again. “Good thing we have until death do us part, huh?”

note: ah anon i know you weren't technically asking for a series... but that may be what comes from this. even if it doesn't, i hope you like it!!! thank you for sending one in <3

[omg-imagine]

All We Are

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x female!V

Summary: V is jealous after Johnny’s date with Rogue, which leads to an honest discussion about where they both stand.

Words: 1.7k

Warning: spoilers for Blistering Love side job, a little angst

A/N: Requested by an anon. This may be a bit different than what you were expecting, but I was in the feels™. Hope you still enjoy :)

Also, can we please talk about how adorable he looks in the gif?? 

The long drive back to the apartment was silent; the utter stillness in the car weighs heavily on V’s mind. Hands gripping tight on the steering wheel, she tries to ignore this unsettling ache she has, not allowing even an ounce of thought to pass. Though she chalks it off as a side effect of the pseudoendotrizine, this strange, hollow feeling of hers continues to stir deep inside, burning, burning and burning.

And so, she switches on the radio and focuses ahead on the stretch of road winding down the North Oak hills, the approaching lights of Night City glowing brighter against the inky skies. A fresh breeze flows into the open windows, dulling the tension for a moment.

A moment of tranquility that ends far too soon, yet it was a moment V’s at least grateful to have.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Johnny points out, the gruff baritone of his voice piercing the air. “An enny for your thoughts?”

Kicking his feet up on the dashboard, his aviators glint in the silver moonlight, making him appear impossibly more obnoxious than he usually is. He acts as if he’s not aware of the recent thoughts plaguing V’s head, but perhaps that truly was the case. If it were, then she would be surprised— Johnny often invades her mind, poking and prodding at things he shouldn’t be. For a while, she assumes he knows.

“Just tired,” V replies monotonously. Her answer was far from a lie; she really was tired. Exhausted, even. All she wants is to collapse into bed, pass out, and hope that for a few short hours, she can forget about today, about everything.

“Huh,” he breathes out, and V spares him not a single glance. “Pretty sure somethin’ was up. You’ve been actin’ weird since we left the drive-in.”

A chuckle rumbles through her chest. V still finds it unusual for Johnny to act so… concerned. Almost caring, if she had to be honest. She’s noticed a change in him recently, which became apparent after their conversation in the oil fields. He’s a lot softer now, sometimes sweet, both in his own unique way, of course. As if his rough edges were slightly smoothed out with sandpaper, enough that they no longer cut and make her bleed.

V would often catch him staring when he thinks she’s not looking. She also doesn’t fail to miss the small smile that creeps across his face as she talks. And in those passing seconds that lasts an eternity when the relic malfunctions, Johnny was there to offer her comfort. He’d kneel down to the ground while she coils in agony, whispering promises that this will all be over soon. That one way or another, they would get rid of that goddamn chip slotted in V’s head and ultimately save her life.

Life. Life has a funny way of unraveling itself. Fuck, this all seems like a cruel joke the universe is playing on V. Fate is rarely kind to her, a sad fact she’s accepted over the years. Never would she have imagined that after experiencing the pain of heartbreak and loss, she’d find herself falling for someone at the worst possible time.

And that someone is the imprisoned digital ghost of a rockerboy-turned-terrorist studying her from the passenger seat.

But V’s adamant in denying it. Her life was too fucking complicated for this right now.

“Are you capable of shutting the fuck up for two seconds?” V bitterly snaps, the hands on the wheel clenching stiffly as her jaw. “You got what you wanted tonight. Finally got your dick wet after fifty years, so leave me the hell alone, would’ya?!”

She doesn’t mean to act on her muted anger, but it manages to get the best of her. V knows why, and because of it, she crumbles. She crumbles like the walls she’s built around herself. Like the facade she’s been hiding behind for the past couple of months. Because underneath the dirt and grime, V was just a poor, tragic soul, more worried about losing the man she couldn’t have than her awaiting death.

“Really think that’s what happened?” Johnny asks, pushing his shades up to his head as he shifts to sit up straight in his seat.

V grits her teeth, eyes remaining locked on the road. She had woken up an hour or two after Johnny took over, finding her lips still warm, still swollen. Her hair was tousled, and she had been stripped off of most of her clothes; the scent of Rogue’s perfume lingering on her skin. She didn’t need him to recount; it was all clear to her what had transpired. It was what she agreed on to make him happy, a date with the Afterlife fixer and whatever it could lead up to.

In the end, V regretted it, not because Johnny used her body to sleep with someone. But because even after the rollercoaster ride, the dog tags, the private concerts, and the heart-to-heart they had at his gravesite, she still wasn’t his. He was too hung up over Rogue, and she couldn’t blame him. Having shared a lengthy history, there was no doubt Johnny wouldn’t snatch up the opportunity to win her back.

But then where does that leave V?

“The fuck is wrong, V? Don’t make me figure it out by myself.”

Biting the edge of her lip, she ignores Johnny’s latest question and contemplates swallowing an omega blocker. She doesn’t even care that he’s threatening to search for the truth without her permission. Choosing not to do so, he keeps pressing on regardless, and V was getting pissed off. When he doesn’t stop, she loses her temper and slams on the brakes, the Porsche coming to a screeching halt on a dead street.

Huffing, V pulls over to the side, shutting the car’s engine as Johnny is left bewildered by her actions. Peace and quiet. She yearns for peace and quiet, and the pills would do the trick in an instant. Her hand reaches for the bottle in her jacket pocket, the pounding of her heart echoing in her ears. Popping the cap open, she turns her head to the side, unable to help herself. She sees the tenderness etched in his features, a wordless plea shining in his dark eyes.

“V… Tell me.”

V’s gaze slowly falters, her consciousness at war with itself. The storm of anger in her calms, yet she needs to know what her next move is. She’s always been terrible at this sort of thing, dealing with her feelings and shit. Growing up in the streets of Heywood, she’s learned how to shut people out and keep them out. Biggest rule she had imposed on herself was to never, ever fall for a choom, but this time was different. Despite him being a mere figment of her imagination, she feels safe around Johnny, appreciated and content. The two understand each other on a level nobody else has done. They’ve been through literal hell and would only sink further into it to find a way to survive.

A chrome palm comes to rest on V’s cheek, the sensation oddly warm, oddly familiar. Her attention flickers back to Johnny as he strokes her weary face. His touch was delicate, movements careful and controlled. He treats her as if she were porcelain, afraid that his metal hand would cause her to crack. V exhales deeply, relishing the feeling she’s longed from the moment she had broken that dumb rule of hers.

“Go ahead,” she mumbles, giving Johnny consent for him to read her mind. It only takes a second, maybe even less. V half expects his shit-eating grin to make its appearance. She couldn’t forget how cocky he was, and she thought this would certainly rub his ego.

It never comes. Instead, Johnny’s lips turn up into a genuine smile, one softer than the way his black hair falls to frame his face. V swears she was floating; this doesn’t feel all that real to her. It couldn’t be real. But as the first faint slivers of sunlight appear on the horizon, she starts to believe that she isn’t dreaming nor hallucinating. She was still very much wide awake.

“Didn’t know you were the jealous type,” Johnny quips as he leans closer. “You had no reason to be jealous, princess.”

���Why not?”

“Nothin’ happen between Rogue and me,” he clarifies, his fingers pushing back her locks. “Yeah, we made out a little, but I couldn’t go through with it. Wanna know why?”

V nods.

“’Cause I realized that ship sailed a long time ago. We’re too different people now; she’s got her own life, while I got mine sittin’ right here.”

“Johnny…” she murmurs his name as he brings up his other hand to cradle her face. “I wanted to have what you and Rogue had, minus the shitty things you did. But I could feel how much you loved her, how you basically worshipped the ground she walked on. Then I thought, can’t compete with her. She’s a livin’ legend, a badass. Meanwhile, I could be dead the next minute or two, either by this fuckin’ relic or a bullet.”

“Trust me, V, you wouldn’t want that,” Johnny returns, resting his forehead against hers. How could he feel so real? “What you and I have is special. Ain’t felt this way before, not even with Rogue or Alt. Like I said, you’re the fuckin’ closest to me. These feelings you’re afraid of? Shit, I have them too, and I’m fuckin’ terrified. But knowing that you’re here and we both share them, it makes things a lot less scary.”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Johnny laughs softly. “Gotta spell it out for ya, huh? Well then, here it goes; V, I love you. I don’t throw that word around randomly, but know that it’s what I feel whenever I think of you.”

V doesn’t waste a second longer. Her lips meet his for a kiss that is gentle and bruising, all at once. They hold one another close, their grasps taut so that the other wouldn’t slip away, not wanting to lose what they’ve gained. Time goes by, ticking in the background as they kiss again and again, but to them, it’s slow, nearly everlasting.

And when it was over, when they finally had to part, they were breathless, panting.

“Love you too, Johnny,” she murmurs into his skin, tone dripping with affection as he hums in response.

Night melds into day, and the city comes back to its fullest life. V kisses Johnny a final time before driving back to the place she calls home, even though she’s found her true one in his heart.

—

Permanent Tags:  @penwieldingdreamer​ @keandrews​ @feminine-machinegun​ @fanficsrusz​ @thehumanistsdiary​ @flaminasteroid @rowserein @unaspiringwritings​ @planetkt​ @breakthenight​ @baphometwolf666 @rdjloverxxx

Johnny Silverhand Tags: @silverse​ @overheardatthecontinental​ @meshlababy​ @ataraxydreams​ @ineedpeetalikehekneadsbread​​ @savsselfinserts​ @the-bottom-of-the-abyss​ @donakamark

*If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to send me an ask or DM!

[charming-2d-boys]

Hc for adult trio where their s/o is being seduced by a handsome strong man? Jealous adult trio please!

Nice, we have some of the most possessive men in the Hunter x Hunter universe being jealous 😂

Thanks for the request, this'll be fun! 🙇

Also, here are the headcanons about Chrollo being jealous, just so you know why it might sound a bit familiar.

Warning: a teeny tiny bit suggestive, barely there, but I thought I should put this anyway

Chrollo

eyebrow raised towards the scene

like really now?

is this guy actually hitting on you?

right in front of him?

is he stupid?

or too brave?

when the guy, who’s pretty good-looking and looks strong, glances at him before a handsome smirk plasters itself on his lips and his eyes and attention go back to you?

oh, it’s on

the guy definitely wanted to hit on you and knew exactly who you were there with

okay, so he’s too stupid

you wouldn’t flirt with him, probably only without realising it

don’t worry, Chrollo trusts you and knows you wouldn’t cheat

you’re just being your kind and polite self

the other man, though?

he won’t be so lucky when Chrollo is done with him

on your side, though

the man didn’t really seem as if he was flirting

he was just asking you about yourself, your life, hobbies, interests

he was being very polite and respectful and while you knew Chrollo was there, you didn’t feel threatened

only when the guy looked to the side with a smirk then back at you did you think that he was a bit... odd

you knew that’s where Chrollo was and you could barely feel a hint of bloodlust coming from him

so, you tried cutting the conversation short and leave, all smiles and politeness

only to feel the guy grab your wrist and keep you close

now there was a distinct feeling of discomfort and Chrollo’s bloodlust seemed to increase

still, he had an image to upkeep, so he smiled politely as he walked towards the two of you, an arm around your waist as he pulled you into his side and away from the handsome stranger

sweet words with a venomous meaning were pretty much just thrown from one to another, with the conversation seeming friendly to an outsider

until Chrollo pretty much won their little game of words and smiled ruefully

We will be leaving for tonight. Thank you for keeping my girlfriend company.

you almost felt like laughing at how Chrollo’s words made the man grind his teeth

he really wanted to piss Chrollo off and maybe win you over for the night

apparently, it didn’t work

or so you two thought

Chrollo, on the other hand, left with you by his side, keeping you close to his body

his smile was gone and his eyes were cold as he stared ahead

Chrollo? You okay?

he only glanced at you, eyes almost calculating

you were confused and a bit worried

had you upset him?

I’m fine, love. Don’t worry.

you only nodded and before you knew it, you had reached your house

you were ready to go inside and call it a night before Chrollo pulled you into his arms, eyes staring straight into yours

Chrollo?

without responding, his hands went to your cheeks and pulled your face to his, locking lips with you as your back hit the front door with a bit of force

the kiss seemed more passionate than ever and you had a feeling about the reason why

his lips then went down, leaving a trail of kisses as he bit into the skin of your neck and soothed the bites with his tongue, leaving little purple and red marks behind while your breath became laboured

one of Chrollo’s hands had gone down your side, to your hip and then your leg, lifting your thigh up and around his hip as he kept you pinned against the door with his body

soon, his lips returned to yours as his kisses were now slow and sweet, before he pressed his forehead to yours

Don’t worry. I’m yours. And you’re mine.

the corner of Chrollo’s lips lifted into a little smile before he nodded, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek and neck

Spend the night with me?

I could never say no to you, love.

let’s just say that was one of the best nights ever for the two of you as a couple

and, somehow, you thanked the stranger in your mind

you definitely saw another side of Chrollo that night because of him

you’d never see him again, since Chrollo would tell the Spiders that they should let him know when they found the guy

he wanted to bid him farewell properly, after all

Hisoka

Hisoka watched, amused, as you were uncomfortable and probably stuttering while the handsome and seemingly strong man flirted with you

you hadn’t seen him yet and he was still hiding in the shadows, watching the scene between you and the handsome stranger unfold

your reactions were always cute and he almost remembered when you used to look at him like that in the very beginning

Hisoka wasn’t really that worried about the situation

he knew you wouldn’t go to another guy

he was your handsome, strong boyfriend after all

the one who did his best for you and your attention

he smirked at the thought of you and him in a relationship

it was one of the best things in his life

well, Hisoka’s smile disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared when he saw you laugh at something the stranger said

he moved around so he could see the guy

he was in a similar state as you, slightly uncomfortable, but he seemed really sweet and nice

you’d let your guard down pretty quickly around him

now Hisoka felt a bit upset

it took so long until you let him into your life

and you’re letting this little shrimp in after a few minutes of conversation?

he just doesn’t like it

that feeling settling itself in his heart and stomach

like a vice around them

straightening up, he walked towards the two of you, heels clicking against the floor loudly

people actually parted so he could pass, the small hint of bloodlust making them flinch

Hisoka’s smile was anything but good

even you wanted to take a step back

it had been a while since you’d felt his bloodlust up close

the man next to you stiffened, eyes wide and heart racing as Hisoka smiled at the two of you slyly

Hello, lovely~ Who is your new friend? ♣

you didn’t want to make a scene

and when you answered that He was no one, you just looked up at Hisoka with pleading eyes

he only hummed before letting himself be dragged out onto the street towards your home

Hisoka said nothing and neither did you as you both got inside

he was still smiling, but he looked... upset

you couldn’t watch him leave just like that and leave you to stew in your worries and questions

Hisoka?

he stopped walking towards the bedroom, a smile still on his face as he looked at you, waiting

I’m sorry!

what else could you say?

you knew he was jealous and also insecure, no matter how much he wanted to deny it

he was always scared that someone better, nicer, stronger would come along and sweep you off your feet

Are you now? For what exactly? ♣

Hisoka, please... I was only being polite. don’t make me regret my choice, please!

when you had allowed him to take you out, you’d officially sealed your fate

not that you could complain much

Hisoka could be sweet when he wanted to be

and you really didn’t want your relationship to end because of... what? a stupid, innocent conversation with a stranger?

Hisoka was quiet before he hummed, smile now gone

he slowly walked up to you, looking into your eyes as if searching for something

before he picked you up and took you to the bedroom, tossing you onto the bed

you looked up, not really afraid, but more puzzled than anything

I want you to know that you’re mine. No one else’s. Only mine. Right, lovely?  ♣

you nodded, hands going to his cheeks as your fingers ran over his skin

you stared at one another, a silent conversation

I’m sorry. I love you, Hisoka. Don’t forget it.

he only smiled before kissing you deeply, his arms caging you as his chest touched yours

oh, he won’t forget and he’d remind you that you’re his

even until dawn if he had to

he would take his time and show you that you two belonged together

Illumi

Illumi could only stare and wonder why some people were so stupid

what did that person even think he was doing?

why was he standing so close to you?

why were you smiling so much?

as Illumi kept getting closer with the two drinks in hand, you looked up and smiled at him before beckoning him closer

you soon took your drink and held his hand, making him relax a bit

Lumi, this is (M/N). He says we were classmates in school. I’m sorry I can’t remember well.

No worries, (Y/N). Nice to meet you, ...?

Illumi Zoldyck.

your classmate froze, smile tight-lipped and hand in between them for a handshake that never came

As in, the assassin family?

Yep.

Illumi only stared, making (M/N) uncomfortable

Well, umm, (Y/N), it was nice seeing you again. I hope we can meet again soon.

Same here.

he quickly left and before you could actually ask Illumi what his problem was, you were being dragged up the stairs, away from the party, and into one of the many empty rooms available

Illumi, what are you doing? And what was that? That was so ru-

had you not seen that it was Illumi, your boyfriend, in front of your very eyes, doing this, you’d have thought it was someone else, probably in disguise

as his kisses became more desperate, Illumi pulled you onto his lap as soon as he sat on one of the large, comfortable armchairs in the room

you had already lost interest in anything else around you but Illumi as your hands went through Illumi’s ponytail, tugging and bringing him closer, leaving his hair dishevelled

your boyfriend’s lips left yours only to settle on your neck and chest, hands already on their way to tugging your clothes off as fast as possible

as he continued leaving marks, you could hear him mumble Mine. All mine.

how he could be jealous of someone like (M/N), you didn’t know

Illumi was so much better in pretty much every department

apparently, you’d have to show him

if only he’d let you take a bit of control tonight

No one else’s. Only mine, understood?

Only yours, Lumi.