#bc it looks like the trail won’t be open at this point

[darkwood-sleddog]

What is in the water this week?? work’s got me like this

[mrsbarnesblog]

Hi!! I love your work, if your ok with it can you do Sub! Rafe?? He basically just lets the reader top him but he starts getting all subby on her and cries bc of how good it feels.

masterlist ko-fi ao3

requests are open

word count: 2.1k.

warnings: smut, sub Rafe, p in v, blow job, unprotected sex, tying up, multiple orgasms, creampie

a/n: let's fucking gooo. I have been WAITING for someone to ask me to write this because I love, love, love subby Rafe. so thank you for the request and hope you'll like this one😘

“Just let me try it one time, please.” You looked up at your boyfriend and gave him the best puppy eyes, knowing that no matter how much he refused, he could never tell you no. “You’ll like it, and if you don't, you can just say a word and I’ll stop.” 

“I won’t like it.” Rafe grumbled, rubbing his forehead in frustration. You were asking him to let you be on top, to control everything, and especially him, for the first time. He was scared to let someone do that to him, but at the same time, the smallest part of him craved it crazily. “But we can try.”

You squeaked in happiness, then reached up to hold the back of Rafe’s neck to bring him into the heated kiss. The atmosphere in the room quickly shifted when you started moaning into each other's mouths, with hands gripping whatever body part they could find. 

You slowly bucked Rafe closer to the bed, then pushed him back on the plush blanket. He grumbled again, but still obediently moved up and was laid back on the pillow, clearly waiting for you. 

With a teasing smile on your face, you took his leather belt off the floor and straddled him. “Gimme your hands.” You lowered your body, giving Rafe a quick peck on the lips, and started fixating his hands to the metal headboard. 

The position that you were in gave Rafe an amazing look at your tits, which were spilling out of your bra behind your silk robe. He licked his lips, at that moment not even caring about anything else; his eyes were too focused on your body right in front of his face. 

You pulled back, making sure that his hands were secure and he couldn’t free himself without your notice, then took a second to admire your boyfriend. Rafe was now all yours, laying under you without a shirt on and only in your favorite gray sweatpants. Your eyes trailed down his body, gawking at his shoulders, biceps, chest and abs. Just looking at it made you go into a spiral. 

“Now… I’m going to do everything that you always do with me, and if you’re being good, you’ll get a reward.” You tilted your head to the side playfully, your nails scratching his toned skin from his neck down to the belly button, feeling the way muscles twitched under your fingers. 

Rafe wasn’t fully listening to you, to be honest. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, the image of you sitting on top of him, your robe high on your thighs and almost exposing your boobs, was making him painfully hard. 

“Take it off. I need to see you.” He demanded as usual, already feeling agitated with the way he couldn’t take control of everything like he used to. 

“You’re not giving orders right now. Ask nicely and I’ll think about it.” Rafe's hands moved unconsciously as he tried to touch you, but the belt stopped him. You smirked, leaning lower until your lips were right above his chest. You kissed his heated skin while looking him in the eyes, moving lower and lower until you reached the hem of his sweatpants. 

“Baby, please.” He breathed out desperately. 

Not giving in, you trailed your nail right above his pants, making his hips twitch upwards in search of more contact. 

“You said you wouldn't like it, hm?” You arched an eyebrow, pointing to the very obvious bulge. Rafe huffed and his face was slightly flashed. He was too stubborn to admit it, but seeing the actual reaction of his body was everything you needed to know. “Ask me politely, Rafe.” 

“Touch me.” He breathed out, closing his eyes, and once again tested the belt’s hold on his hands. “Please. I need it.” 

“Mhm, so you can be nice?” Sliding your fingers under the waistband, you finally pulled his pants and boxers down his legs. His cock, painfully hard and with a leaking tip, bounced against his lower abdomen and you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around it. 

Rafe moaned at your touch, throwing his head back against the pillow and then biting on the flesh of his stretched-out bicep. The next thing he felt was your soft tongue licking him from the bottom up, focusing and swirling around his swollen head. 

“Fuck! Shit—don't tease me like this, baby.” With parted lips and hooded eyes, he looked down at you, and the image alone of you standing on your hands and knees with his cock in your mouth could send him into space. Maintaining eye contact, you used your tongue exactly like you knew he liked until Rafe couldn’t hold back anymore and you heard that pretty whining noise. “I’m close—“

As soon as you heard these words, you pulled away, leaving him on the edge and desperate for more. “Oh, I’m sorry, but you’re not getting it that easily.” You finally untangled the silk belt of your robe, letting it freely slide down your arms. Rafe drooled at the sight in front of him, taking in every inch of your exposed skin. 

Never in his life had he wanted something so desperately, like he wanted to touch you right now. It was the sweetest torture to see your perfect body right in front of his hungry eyes but not being able to feel it. 

“I need to touch you. Please, let me do it.” He mumbled, his pupils dilated and his eyes were much darker than before. Rafe pulled his hands again, making metal cling against metal, but you just shook your head. 

“You can only watch; no touching, baby.” You observed the way his eyes got shut tightly, head pushed against the pillow and he huffed, mumbling something incoherent. You’ve never seen Rafe act like this, being so open and emotional, so vulnerable infront of you. The way he needed you made you squeeze your thighs on either side of his body as another wave of arousal washed over you. “I’ll make you feel good.” 

Finally unclipping your bra, you maneuvered to pull your panties down your legs, then returned back on top of Rafe. His cock was placed right next to your pussy, just barely touching your sensitive folds. 

Your hand wrapped around him again, pumping his cock a few times, before slightly moving up and sliding the mushroom head against your pussy lips. 

“Oh fuck—“ Rafe moaned, looking down there with hooded eyes. He was leaking with precum and your movements only made it mix with your wetness and glister on his length. Your mouth slightly opened, moaning too, when his cock finally got caught in your entrance and with one smooth motion, he slipped inside. 

It was euphoric. 

“Oh my god, Rafe! You feel so good inside.” You pressed your hands on Rafe’s abs, testing your ability to move on him without any help. He filled you perfectly, stretching you to the brim and hitting all the right places, making you throw your head back in delight. You moved up, leaving only the tip, and then pushed down with a loud slap of the skin. 

“No-no-no, holy shiiit.” It happened before you could register it, but with a few circular motions of your hips, Rafe’s cock twitched inside of you and you felt a familiar, warm feeling inside of you. With your mouth open in shock, you looked down, seeing the evidence of Rafe’s orgasm on your thighs as his cum started sliding down around his cock. Then you looked back at him seeing even more flushed cheeks and glossy eyes. “I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t stop myself—“ 

During the whole time that you were dating, Rafe had never finished before you, always dragging a few orgasms out of you, not to mention that it had never happened that fast. Always so determined to make you feel good, he could hold back for hours, just enjoying teasing you. But thinking that you could pent him up to the point when he couldn’t control his body, made you want to do to him the dirtiest things. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” You soothed him, leaning forward to reach his face and distracting him with a kiss. Your pussy spasmed around his softened cock, making you both moan in each other's mouths. “I need you to give me another one, baby.” You straightened back, teasingly moving your ass in a circle and observing Rafe’s reaction. 

He whined—he literally whined at the overstimulation, trying to move his cock away while at the same time craving more. The headboard squeaked under his strong pulls, barely able to restrain Rafe’s desires. He wanted you. He wanted you so fucking badly. To just put his hands on your body, roll you on your back and fuck the living shit out of you. He wanted to make that aching feeling in the pit of his stomach go away, because even though he just came, he needed more and it was killing him. 

“Fuck yourself on me. Use me.” 

“Mmm, you’re so sweet when you’re begging me, Rafey.” You teased, now feeling his fully erect cock giving you so much-needed fullness again. With your hands on his chest, you started bouncing up and down, swirling your hips to drag more moans and groans out of Rafe. “You’re feeling me up exactly the way I need it. Always so good for me, baby. Such a good boy.”

“Y-yeah, I’m good for you, and I need to feel you cumming around me.” You nodded eagerly, quickening your pace. His brows kneaded in concentration and eyes got laser-focused on the place where you two were connected. Seeing his cum, mixed with your wetness, dripping down his shaft and smirging all over yours and his things was more than Rafe could handle. “‘s too much—“ 

“I’m gonna cum. Cum with me, baby. I need to feel how you fill me up again. Can you be good and do that for me?” Your hand reached to Rafe’s face, gripping his jaw until you felt him nod back to you. His eyes suddenly became more reddish, showing off your favorite blues in contrast with tears on his waterline. His lips parted again as he seemingly got closer to his second orgasm. 

You clenched around his cock, slightly moving forward to align your clit with his pelvis to create perfect friction. Your bounces got sloppier and less accurate as the blood-rushing noise in your ears became more and more noticeable. 

You both came almost at the same time, moaning each other’s names in bliss. He shot rope after rope of hot semen up your quivering pussy, encouraging you to keep moving and squeezing him. Your cunt was milking every last drop, as you felt extremely greedy to get everything that you could. 

Looking up, you saw Rafe with tightly shut eyes and tears rolling down his cheeks. He was panting, trying to catch a breath and clenching his fists against the restraints. You fell forward on his sweaty chest, reaching up to unbuckle the belt. 

The second Rafe’s hands were free, he put them on your body, touching, gropping and claiming you again, despite the pain of being in an uncomfortable position for too long. He finally sprawled them on your back, not letting you move even for an inch. 

After spending at least ten minutes in that exact position, with his balls deep in you, and in complete silence, you both couldn’t believe what just happened. When the fog finally cleared out of his brain, Rafe slightly pushed you to lay face-to-face on your sides. 

“What the fuck have you done to me, baby?” He whispered against your skin. “You made me cum like a fucking teenager who had his first sex.”

“I just showed you that you don’t have to always be in charge of everything. I can take care of you too.” You pushed Rafe’s sweaty bangs away, throwing your leg over his hip so it would be more comfortable for him to stay in the warmth of your body. He trembled in your hands, hiding his face in your hair and breathing in your scent.

You knew that he felt vulnerable and exposed at that moment, so you didn’t say anything further, just giving Rafe some comfort with your touch and presence. 

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ GETO SENSEI — GETO SUGURU.

contents. based on this drabble and this drabble, post hidden inventory arc, healing suguru agenda !!, fluff + established relationships, suguru wants to become a teacher :,) bc teacher suguru is what we deserved

“mwah,” you press a wet kiss to suguru’s cheek. “there,” you said proudly, “another kiss for my sugu. want more?”

“i think i’m okay now, baby. thank you—”

“mwah,” you kiss his forehead, giggling, “i have a lot more where that came from, y’know.”

“i believe it,” he shakes his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, “you don’t seem to run out.”

“my sugu needs all the kisses he can get,” you gasp, “they’re good for his health!”

suguru smiles softly at that, closes his eyes and leans into you as you brush back his bangs from his face and thread your fingers into his hair, scratching gently along his scalp as he sighs. you watch him relax, content with the way his under eyes seem to be less dark as of late. you brush a thumb under his eyes, feeling the soft skin before gently stroking along his cheek.

“don’t you have a mission tomorrow?” he asks quietly, letting his head droop into your hand as you cup his cheek.

“i do,” you nod, “but i have some time to kill before i go to bed.”

“you should rest,” he mumbles, “you don’t want to be tired while you’re out there.”

“i’ll get rest, suguru,” you assure with a roll of your eyes, “your hair’s a bit longer, don’t you think?”

“yeah,” he tilts his head as you reach to grab at his bun, pulling the hair tie to let his hair fall freely down to his shoulder. “i guess i should cut it.”

“i like it,” you pout, “‘s pretty like this.”

“yeah?” he grins, cracking an eye open to look at you in amusement, “should i keep growing it for you then?”

“you should,” you nod, “i’ll braid it.”

“yeah, as if,” he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, “satoru’s never gonna let me hear the end of it if he sees.”

“he won’t see!”

“you said that last time when you put my hair in space buns, remember? and then you showed him a picture.”

“baby,” you gasp, “what happened to forgiving and forgetting? that was me of the past—i’ve grown! i won’t betray you like that again.”

you hold a hand up as an oath, nodding seriously to prove your point. he looks at you unconvinced before chuckling and leaning in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“today wasn’t so bad,” he mumbles, “i liked today.”

“yeah?” you smile, letting his head fall to the crook of your neck, shuffling closer on his lap as your arms wrap around him.

he nods into your shoulder, “yeah.”

“good,” you murmur, “you’ll be okay. even if it takes some time.”

“sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” he admits, cheek pressed against your shoulder as he speaks into your skin. your fingers are in his hair—they seem to never leave, and he hopes they never do. your hand rubs up and down his back, slowly, like it’ll snap in two if you go too fast.

“you will, baby,” you say sweetly, kissing his head as you twist his hair into a messy bun, tying it with his hair tie as you speak.

suguru is healing—you like to think so. he smiles more, sometimes they even meet his eyes all the way. he sleeps better, eats more healthy, seeks you out when things are crushing on his shoulders. there’s something lighter about him, something less heavy and tormented and even if he’s still empty sometimes, you always find him at the right moments.

sometimes, suguru is lost—and maybe you can’t always guide him out, but you can be lost together.

sometimes that’s enough.

“i think…” he starts, trailing off hesitantly. your hand hikes under his shirt, rubbing the bare skin of his back—it’s always calmed him more that way, feeling you without the barrier of fabric in the way.

“you think?” you encourage, letting him take his time to process his thoughts.

“i think i want to teach,” he mumbles, “here, at jujutsu high. but…but do it better. i think i’d do it better, y’know? the way kids deserve.”

you smile at that—proud, a little heartbroken deep down. people have failed suguru, they’ve failed you too. and satoru. and shoko. and nanami. and haibara too—and it’s up to you all to piece yourselves back together. maybe you can all do it together, one cracked, sharp little piece at a time.

sometimes the edges will slice your skin, will reopen old wounds and make you bleed all over again just when you thought you were done bleeding. but suguru has you to bandage the cuts, and you have him too. and everyone else, as well.

you pull away, cup his cheeks and press a soft kiss to his lips as you close your eyes. his hands lay over yours, and he thinks, for a brief moment, you’re right.

maybe he will be okay—maybe he won’t be the same, but he can be new. and that’s not always so bad.

“i think that’s a great idea,” you whisper, “i think you’ll be amazing. what kids will need.”

“well, i’ll try,” he chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours, “and who knows, maybe you can call me geto sensei here and there.”

“we’ll see about that,” you snort. he pouts, making you lean in and kiss those jutted lips of his with a quick peck.

“i’ll convince you,” he says confidently, “you’ll be the only one i let get extra credit.”

“oh i’m honored,” you giggle, “i’ll stay in school just for you.”

“how sweet,” he grins.

you kiss him after that, and he kisses you back. your lips taste like strawberry chapstick, and your arms are warm and tight around him, and even if curses taste vile and the world is coldly unforgiving, suguru can make it through each day with at least one real smile with you by his side.

it’s not so hard when you’re around.

“i love you,” you breathe. it’s enough, he thinks, you’re enough.

“i love you too,” he kisses your jaw, “i’ll love you more if you call me geto sensei, though.”

yes this is my own version of canon. u can’t take it away from me. in MY world (the only world that matters) suguru heals and becomes a teacher <3 and fucks me over his desk

[chiwhorei]

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐠.

Tags: NSFW and dark content below, noncon technically, gagging, humiliation, daddy kink, belly bulge, cervix fucking, breeding, choking, pain, dumb puppy and princess

Notes: drabbled for the first time in forever bc all I can think ab is Toji’s big breederballs. 1k of Daddy dick. That is all. Xoxo, chiwhorei

Toji likes doggy style the best, plowing you in front of a mirror so he can watch your ass jiggle and your tits bounce at the same time. Work smarter, not harder ya know?

Mostly, he likes the angle and how he can jam more of his cock in before you start crying about the stretch of your abused little pussy. He likes holding your mouth open with two of his big fingers on either side of your pretty, messy, fucked-out face.

“What’s that baby? Didya say something?” He jeers, watching the fear in your eyes as he pulls his cock out all the way to tap his heavy tip on your asshole. Your words are lost in the stretch of your lips, but he’s sure your begging him to slow down. He won’t, so there’s no point anyway.

“Nghh- agh—”

“Oh baby,” his cooing is almost sweet, “you really shouldn’t talk with yer mouth full.”

His smile is wide and poisonous, and the grip on your face tightens, squishing your cheeks and obscuring your bleary vision even more. Toji angles his cock back into your dripping hole, breaching the tight ring of muscle as your stretched to accommodate his girth. You’d scream out if you could- beg him not to tear you in half- but your pussy betrays you. Toji pulls you back into him just barely and your sucking in every inch until his swollen tip is pushed right up against your cervix.

“Such a greedy little cunt you’ve got, doll.” He pulls you up by your mouth so his words land against your sweaty temple. You sputter, drool and slobber falling freely to coat your jaw.

Your muffled babbles turn desperate, tears streaming down your cheeks and wetting Toji’s fingers. He can see the fear in your eye as it reflects back to him, the pain in your aching jaw and stiff neck.

From this angle, you can feel every cement inch resting in your stomach. Shaky fingers trail down your front and land on the lump just under your belly button. Toji watches as you smooth over the bump with your palms, how you startle like a fawn when you feel him pushing your cute little tummy out even more.

“Such a dump little puppy, still pawing for daddy’s cock,” he let’s go of your mouth and you almost fall forward, his arm wraps around your middle, fingers meeting your own and pressing down hard. The air from your lungs falls flatly on the ground.

Toji’s free hand finds a home around your neck, so big that he can almost close his fingers around your throat completely.

“Daddy’s still got a few more inches to give you,” he doesn’t try to hide the mirth that coats his words, “this is gonna hurt.”

A scream rips from you, the sound unfamiliar to your own ears after being held up by the open mouth. Toji stills for just a moment before pressing into your stomach as a anchor and pushing his fat cock head past the ring of your cervix. You swear you can feel it in your throat.

“Daddy- daddy please,” you go limp in his hold, head falling back onto Toji’s shoulder. Your brain has melted, you’re sure it’s dribbling out of your ears.

Toji’s cock bottoms out, the base of his cock covered in a creamy white ring. He looks up at the reflection of the mess he’s made, tears and spit cover your face, hair matted to your forehead. Your skin is glazed in a layer of sweat and goosebumps, and the pudge in your tummy is distinct.

“I knew you could take it, now Daddy is going to fuck a baby right into your little womb.”

His hips snap into you with purpose, moving within the deepest parts of your fucked-open body. The hold he’s got on your neck coils tighter, squeezing the sputtering breath from your throat.

“Be a sweet little puppy,” Toji’s snarls, meeting your eyes in the mirror, “and beg Daddy for his cum.”

©️chiwhorei.2023 || don’t fuck with me I’m so serious

[cozage]

Kicks door down: HELLO

I accidentally sent this request when they were closed so sorry abt that. BUT.

Can you do the water healing one where y/n almost (or does. I’m down for angst) dies because they pushed themselves too much? Bonus points if they literally had no other option

Hi friend! This took me a second to get done because WOAH it was angsty!

CW: Reader death bc i love angst (blame supernova not me), marineford spoilers :) Characters: Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace Word Count: 2.8k

Part 1

Zoro

Zoro trusted you. He did. But Luffy shouldn’t be as energetic as he is right now, even with your healing. Luffy had gone down three times. And Zoro knew you had healed him twice before you had hit your limit. Zoro had seen you vomiting from the pain before he had to go fight his own battle. He had left you curled up in a ball crying in pain, but alive. 

It didn’t make sense how Luffy was so���bouncy. He should be sleeping off the pain and exhaustion from battle, but he wasn’t. So Zoro set off to find you, afraid of what he might find. 

There was an urgency to his movement, his pace faster than normal as he made his way to the last place he saw you. But you weren’t there. Instead, he found a trail of blood, leading off into a side hallway.

It was your blood. Zoro wasn’t sure how he knew, but he did. Zoro clenched his jaw, preparing for the worst as he rounded the corner. But it was just another blood trail. 

He was running as he followed it, weaving around corners and down hallways. He finally came to a door, and the trail ended right in front of it. The doorknob had a dark red liquid on it, but Zoro hardly paid it any mind as he pulled the door open. He found you on the other side, sprawled out on the floor. He dove down to you, looking for any open wound that would need to have pressure applied. 

“Please,” he begged. “Wake up.”

He could tell by the amount of blood around you that it was too late to save you. He kneeled next to you and lifted your limp body, trying to get you to sit up. He checked for a pulse or any signs of breathing, but as he expected, there weren’t any. And so he held you, brushing away the hair that was matted on your face and whispered endless apologies. He should’ve found you sooner. You were only dead now because of his mistakes earlier. 

He held you against his chest and pressed his forehead against yours. Zoro knew he should be crying, but he hasn’t cried in years. He just sat there, softly begging you to wake up, waiting for you to show any signs of life. 

When the rest of the crew finds him, he’s as still as a statue. Nami’s wails and Chopper’s movements around your body don’t even faze him. He doesn’t even really hear them. It’s like he’s underwater, just waiting to wake up from this nightmare. Because he can’t survive the cold reality of living alone without you. 

Luffy

“Don’t heal me, you won’t…”

Those had been Luffy’s last words to you before he had fallen into unconsciousness from his injuries. He had a vague memory of you giving him a soft kiss and whispering something about the king of the pirates, but Luffy wasn’t sure if that was a dream or not. 

Now, as he looked at your broken body, he only felt one emotion. 

Rage. 

At himself. At you. At the universe, for being so cruel. And at the man in front of him, who took you away. 

Everyone thought that your death would immobilize Luffy, in the same way that Ace’s had. But it didn’t. He screamed in rage, and even his own crewmates struggled to stay conscious from the overwhelming power Luffy unleashed. 

Luffy had struggled against his foe, but now the fight was over in a moment. It was like a beast came out of him, snarling and destroying everything in its path. The enemy hadn’t even known what had hit him before he was dead. Luffy had a no kill policy, but an eye for an eye seemed more than fair right now. 

Only after the enemy was destroyed, did Luffy mourn. He ran to your side, asking Chopper to heal you. He begged the reindeer, pulling out each piece of equipment demanding “Have you tried this?!”

Half of the stuff wouldn’t have helped even if you were alive, but he still begged Chopper to try. And Chopper indulged him, even though the little reindeer was sobbing himself. 

When everything was out of the bag, Luffy finally gave in to despair. It was this moment where he went into complete shock, inconsolable at the thought of you truly being gone. He beat on the ground next to you, screaming and sobbing. 

“Please! Please come back!” He screamed over and over again, until his voice was gone. Even when his voice was gone, he just sat there and sobbed next to you. The crew sat with him quietly, waiting for him to finish his grieving. They sat with him all day and late into the night, each of them crying in their own way with him.

Sanji

Sanji had only seen this much blood one other time before. On Thriller Bark, when Zoro had taken all of Luffy’s pain. That’s what you had done too: taken all of Luffy’s pain. And Zoro’s pain. And his own. You had taken on all three of their injuries so they could keep fighting. 

“Go,” you whispered, laying on the floor. You tried to keep the sobs out of your voice, but Sanji heard them and stayed where he was. 

He held your head in his lap, gently stroking your hair. “Does this hurt, my love?”

“Sanji. You need to go fight.” You didn’t want him to see you like this. You knew it was the end. 

“I’m not leaving. You’re hurt. You need me.”

“I need you to go do your damn job,” you said. Tears were flowing out of your eyes onto his pants. “I need you to beat these guys and go find the All Blue. And make sure Luffy becomes King of the Pirates. And Zoro-” you struggled to breathe. “Zoro needs to be the greatest swordsman. Promise me?”

“Shhhh. Don’t talk,” he whispered. His voice was so soothing. You could feel your eyes getting heavier with each word. “Save your strength.”

“Sanji,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“I promise.” His voice was thick with tears. “Just stay with me. I’m here.”

You felt wet drops hit your head, but you were too tired to turn and see if he was crying. You couldn’t even offer false hope. Words were too hard to form. Perhaps just a short rest would be good for you. 

Sanji was too scared to check your pulse, but he knew when you were gone. You just felt different in his arms. He couldn’t explain why. 

He sobbed. But he didn’t beg. He knew it was useless. A part of him had been scared of this happening since the very beginning. His father always told him he was cursed. Everything he loved always died. He was foolish to think you’d be the exception. And now he was alone again. It was almost enough to convince him to throw himself into the ocean and join you in the afterlife. 

But no, he made a promise. Your dying wish. So he had to do this for you and for his friends. He would protect Luffy, he would find the All Blue, and he’d even help that stupid marimo. Not because he wanted to do it. But because his promise to you was the only thing worth living for now. 

Law

When Law came back from the brink of death, he knew it was bad. When he came to his senses, he was laying on the ground, and you were crumpled on top of him. You had saved him again, given his energy back to keep fighting. And now you were in pain because of it. 

He could still feel his energy returning to him, slowly now. He cursed, realizing you were still struggling to help him. 

“Stop!” he hissed. He shambled you away from him, and you landed in the alleyway across the street with a sickening smack against the ground. 

“I told you not to help me!” he screamed at you. “I can fight my own battles!”

A roar came from down the street, and he remembered the reason he was so beat up in the first place. The enemy was closing in again, but with this newfound energy he would finish them off. And then he would deal with you. 

The battle was over quickly. It had been close before, but now he had the clear advantage, invigorated with energy from you and with the rage of almost losing. 

He walked back to the alley to find you, anger coursing through his veins at what you had done. You had made a promise, and you had always stuck to it. But he still hated it. 

“I told you not to help me during battle!” he yelled as he approached you. “I told you not to endanger yourself!”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t even move, and that’s when Law realized you were still in the same position you had been when he sent you away. Your chest wasn’t even rising and falling. 

Panic spiked his heart rate, and he quickly shambled over to you. He ran a scan over your body. No Life Detected. 

No. No, this couldn’t be happening. His knees grew weak, and he collapsed next to you. 

“Y/n-ya. Wake up.”

But you were still frozen in place, only a trail of blood running from the corner of your mouth. 

“Please,” he begged, tears filling his eyes. “Please don’t do this. You promised.”

Your limp body offered no response, and he switched from begging to action. He began CPR, rushing through the events that led to this. You had been alive when he woke up, and the fight had only taken a few minutes. Your body wasn’t rigid, so there was still a possibility he could breathe life back into your lungs. 

But he was the Doctor of Death, and no miracles were performed that day. Instead, his crew found him an hour later, still giving you chest compressions. They watched for thirty minutes, before Shachi finally stepped in.

“Captain,” Shachi said standing next to him. “I don’t think-”

“Shut up!” Law barked. He didn’t stop his rhythm. If he could just get your heart to beat on its own for a moment, it would all be okay.

“You can’t leave me,” Law choked out in a sob. “You promised.”

His crew let him continue to try to revive you, even though they all knew it was a fruitless endeavor. Finally, after three hours, he collapsed. 

His crew rarely saw him shed a tear, but today he sobbed into your chest with more emotion than he had ever shown. And he was never really the same afterwards, either. 

Ace

“I can fix him!” you screamed, running out towards the brothers. 

“Like hell,” Marco yelled, grabbing your wrist to hold you back. “It’s too bad. You know that. You can’t save him.”

“I can,” you sobbed. “I have to. I have to!”

You pulled yourself out of Marco’s grip, and dashed towards Luffy.

“Ace…” Luffy breathed out. “You can’t die.”

“He won’t,” you assured him, sitting down next to him. Ace’s wound looked even worse from here, and you could feel bile rising in your mouth. You had to resist the urge to vomit. You had work to do. 

“Luffy, stay with me, okay? I need you to be ready to take him to safety.”

You were prepared to die for him. You had been for a while. There was no better way to go than saving the man you loved. 

“Dont-” Ace sputtered, coughing up blood.

You pressed your lips to his cheek. “I love you, Ace. Keep living for me, okay?”

Those were fitting last words, and so you pulled out some water from your flask and placed your hands over the hole in his chest. It didn’t matter that everyone was watching you while you did this. You were the last of your kind. Your power would die with you. 

The pain came instantly, just as it had for Ace. You could feel your insides shredding apart as you used your power to repair him. His heart, his vital organs, that’s what you chose to focus on. The things he couldn’t live without had to be repaired by you. Marco could do the rest when they were safe. 

You could feel Ace fighting you, desperate to get away from your grip, but you held on tight, even as your vision became dark and blurry, even as you felt consciousness beginning to slip away, you would continue healing him until the end. 

--

What was only a few seconds felt like eternity, and Ace felt his body slowly begin to heal. He could breathe again.

“Luffy,” he mumbled. “Get her off of me.”

“Ace. Your wound.” Luffy pulled back to look at Ace. “It’s closing up.”

“She’s dying,” Ace sobbed, trying to push your limp body off of him. 

“I’ll be damned,” Akainu said, staring down at your work. “I thought that power was just a myth.”

“Luffy, take her away. Now!” Ace yelled, pushing you towards his little brother. 

“A shame her sacrifice will amount to nothing, though,” Akainu said from behind. Ace felt volcanic heat stir up behind him again. Another strike from Akainu was coming, but Ace was paralyzed with grief.

Jinbe jumped in front of Ace and held off the attack. “Ace, my friend. You have been given another chance. You mustn't lose it now!”

Luffy helped Ace to his feet, still staring at his chest where a hole had once been. It wasn’t completely healed, but Ace was moving. That’s all that mattered.

“We can’t leave her,” Ace said, tears flooding out of her eyes. “Luffy, we can’t-”

Ace’s body racked with a fit of coughs, and Luffy stopped. “Ace! Are you okay?! Does it hurt?!”

“We need to go get her,” Ace said, starting to turn back. But Luffy kept propelling him forward. 

His crewmates were cheering them on, not realizing what your healing had cost you. “If we get you to the ship, we win! Ace! Come on!”

But Ace kept fighting Luffy, trying to go back for you. He couldn’t leave you like this. You had sacrificed everything and now you were lying there in the dirt under Akainu. It wasn’t fair. This was his fault. 

“I’ll get her,” Marco yelled. “Keep going, Ace. You need to go! Pops put everything on the line for you! Don’t waste it now!”

When they finally made it back to the ship, Ace’s eyes scoured the horizon, waiting for Marco to return with you. People were celebrating their victory, but Ace felt like he was going to throw up. 

Finally he saw Marco, carrying your too limp body. As Marco landed on the deck, Ace could see tears in his eyes. 

“No,” Ace whimpered. “No. No! NO! Marco, fix her!”

Everyone stopped to watch the scene unfold. Even Luffy was at a loss for words. 

Marco laid your body down on the deck and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I can’t fix her, Ace. She’s gone.”

“No she’s not! You just didn’t try hard enough!” Ace bent down next to you, grabbing your body and shaking it. “Wake up, Y/N! Wake up! You told me you wouldn’t do this.”

Everyone watched as Ace collapsed against you, violently sobbing into your chest. He slammed his hands against the deck, cursing the world and cursing himself, screaming loud enough for everyone to hear. 

Marco waited a few minutes before intervening. “Ace,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “You need to stop.”

“I love you,” Ace sobbed into your chest, beating against the deck. His hands were starting to get bloody from the repetitive punching. “Please stay with me.”

“Ace,” Marco tried again. “If you keep acting like this, your wound will reopen.”

“Let me die, then,” Ace cried. 

“Like hell!” Marco yelled, infuriated with his fellow commander. “You will NOT make her sacrifice and everyone else's sacrifice be in vain! I won’t let you!”

“You don’t get it, Marco!” Ace yelled. He tried to stand, and staggered a bit in the process. “She was the only thing worth living for.”

“And now you have to live with the fact that your disobedience killed her,” Marco’s words were harsh, but true. “But you still have to live! Or else you’d be spitting in her face!”

Ace screamed out in rage and charged towards Marco. However, Ace’s injury made him much slower than usual, and Marco ducked beneath the attack and jumped behind him. 

Ace felt a small pinch in the back of his neck, and the world started to go dark. “I won’t let you kill yourself. She would never forgive me,” Marco whispered, catching Ace as he lost his footing.

As Ace plunged into darkness, all he wanted was to see you one more time. To apologize for all the trouble he caused.

[sugarcoated-lame]

*no sounds just silent screams*

i like to think you tag these things then giggle knowing i’m gonna see them 🤭💗

*this contains smut, 18+ minors dni 🧡

@sebsxphia seb 💗💗💗 hello, my love! this has been sitting in my inbox for way too long, i am the worst i’m sorry for answering it so late 😭😭

but ok i’m not gonna lie… you’re so right, i literally do giggle sometimes when i reblog these things from you knowing that you’re gonna see my tags LMAO 😂🤭❤️

so that being said haha, forced eye contact with Joel…. yeah 🫠

I definitely think that soft dom Joel looooves gentle forced eye contact. Loves when you go all shy on him, your head tilting back, eyes drifting up toward the ceiling as he kneels at the edge of the bed between your parted thighs.

Strong, rough hands caressing your outer thighs as his plush lips trail sweet kisses and little love bites all along your soft skin, inching closer and closer to your core.

He soothes one of the bites with his tongue before murmuring into your skin, “What do you want, baby?”

“You-your tongue. And your fingers... please.” You just manage to squeak out between shallow, shaky breaths, already losing yourself in the feeling of his gentle touch so close to where you need him most.

Joel plants a kiss on your mound through the thin, lacy fabric of your underwear, his dark chocolatey gaze lifting to watch your expression as you shudder under his touch.

Only, he doesn’t catch your gaze when when he looks up from between your legs, finding your eyes closed and chin pointed slightly towards the ceiling — and Joel won’t have that.

Leaving its perch on your thigh, one of Joel’s big hands lifts to grab your chin. Making no attempt to move your head, but just cupping your face lightly, rough fingers lightly pressing into your skin.

"I won't do anything until you look at me, darlin’. Wanna see your pretty eyes when you tell me what you want."

The stern tone of his raspy voice has your eyes shooting open immediately, thighs clenching around his broad shoulders where he sits between them, a whimper leaving you at his commanding tone.

lashes fluttering as you tilt your head to look down to where Joel rests his head on your thigh, a bashful smile curves up on your lips when you find his steely gaze boring into you expectantly.

Leaning your head down just a bit further to drop a sweet kiss to the hand that still gently grips your chin.

“Sorry, daddy.”

And only once he knows your eyes are on him does Joel ravish you. Long, thick fingers of one hand pushing your pretty little panties to the side and pushing knuckle deep into you cunt, the other hand still gripping your chin as you moan out above him.

“Good girl. Just keep your eyes on me.” Joel commands from those pretty lips of his just before they wrap around your clit.

anyway, I need to go lie down for like 3-5 business days bc my brain is going brrrrr 😵‍💫🫠 thank you so much for sending this my dear, so sorry again for letting this sit in my inbox forever haha 😭 I hope you enjoy and ilysm!! 🥰🧡💗🧡💗

[imaginedisish]

Sparks (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: HELLLOOOO everyone!!! Here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This is my first fic in a few months so please forgive me. I am exhausted, and I’ve been writing this throughout my day (may or may not have been writing and editing in class). Thus, this may be incredibly sloppy. I am so sorry. HOWEVER, this is incredibly SMUTTY so minors SCRAM! I hope you guys enjoy. The song I reference is “Sparks” by Coldplay and it very much inspired this....but so did Cardigan by Taylor Swift. Anyway...enough of me talking...ENJOY!

Summary: Din looking out for you turns into so much more than either of you could have ever imagined (featuring *there’s only one bed*). 

Warnings: Major pining, Jedi!reader, SMUT so 18+, cursing, PIV, fingering/oral (f!receiving) no mentions of birth control so WRAP it before you TAP IT FOLKS, references to canon typical violence and injuries, idiots to lovers, crest still exists bc im a lazy writer... I think that’s it...

Word Count: 3,221

The stars flash by the Crest in a streaky, messy blur. The light reflects off the beskar clad man next to you. The conversation had died down a half an hour ago. Now you and Din sat in warm, comfortable silence. You should really head to your bunk, but you don’t want to. You’re fighting to keep your eyes open at this point. You feel like a child on the back of a speeder, confidently telling their parents they aren’t tired, that they won’t fall asleep on the way home this time. Every second you get with Din counts, even if it means falling asleep in the cockpit and waking up with a sore back. The uncomfortable chair was worth the reward of just being next to him.

But you’d never let him know that. You couldn’t.

It probably went against his code. Or even worse, there’s always the chance he doesn’t feel the same. The thought alone makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You quickly shake it off and glance over at Din. His visor is set on the deep space in front of you.

“You’re tired,” He says, his modulated voice breaking the silence.

“No, I most certainly am not,” You jokingly insist, shifting slightly underneath the blanket he had gotten for you just a few minutes ago.

“Sure you aren’t, cyar’ika,” He chuckles softly. He knows he’s right, and you do too. But you don’t want to fall asleep, not now. Not when he’s next to you, teasing you, leading you on. It doesn’t matter if this ends in heartbreak. You just want to be with him, to hear his voice, to feel him near you.

You smirk at him, and you hope he’s smirking back underneath that helmet of his. “I’m fine, really,” You insist, your smirk turning into an appreciative smile. He nods and turns back towards the stars ahead.

You quietly wish he was still looking at you.

And then, he breaks the silence again. “Your back is gonna hurt tomorrow if you fall asleep out here,” He says softly, intently. Your heart drums away rapidly in your chest. “Don’t need you getting more hurt than you already do because of me…” He trails off. There’s a sense of sadness in his voice. “I’m supposed to look out for you.”

You know exactly what he’s talking about. The blaster shot, just a week ago. Your hand finds its way underneath your shirt, rubbing softly at the wrap Din had resecured over the injury earlier this morning while you were still on Tatooine.

“Din,” You whisper, inching to the edge of your chair to be closer to him. “I’m here because I chose to be, because I want to be,” You pause for a second to stop yourself from giving away more than you mean to. “And I’d be getting into trouble no matter what, with or without you,” You joke. It was true. Maybe it wouldn’t be bounty hunting, and it certainly wouldn’t be Jedi stuff like your parents had tried to force you to learn throughout your childhood, but it would’ve been something.

If you were to be completely honest, one thing you’re fully convinced of is that whatever it would be, it would always be with Din, in every universe, every timeline. Something called you to him, clung you to him. The stars, the force, something. Whatever it was, it kept you here.

He turns his helmet towards you and stares in silence for a few seconds. Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest at the attention. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. He takes a hand off the controls and reaches towards you, resting his hand on your own.

“Thank you,” He mutters through his vocoder. He’s rarely ever this open, this vulnerable with you.

“You don’t have to thank me for being honest,” You whisper, practically unintelligibly. Your nerves are getting the best of you. One more move from Din and you’ll melt into a puddle of words you’ll never be able to take back.

He squeezes your hand softly and pulls away. Somehow, your hand has never felt colder than it does in this very moment.

After a few minutes, his voice fills the cockpit once again. “Just don’t fall asleep out here, ‘kay? Take the bunk if you’re tired. You need rest.” Despite the modulator there’s a warmth in his voice. You could swear there’s even a hint of care, possibly even love…

No, You think to yourself. Maybe you should head to the bunk. Maybe you do need space from Din. What are you supposed to do when you can’t hold these stupid feelings back anymore? What are you supposed to do when the inevitable happens, when he delivers that final crushing blow, ‘I don’t feel that way about you, I’m sorry.’ You stare off into the distance. You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You were doomed from the start. So foolish, so fucking foolish, You think.

“You okay?” Din’s words yank you from your thoughts. He’s staring at you again, and you’re more than positive that there’s a look of concern hidden beneath that visor.

All you can muster is a quiet yes and a subtle nod. Din nods back, but you know he’s not quite buying it. He looks towards the control panel, quickly flicking some lever on. Your eyes are too heavy to pay attention to what he’s actually doing. “I know I’m not as…open as you,” He pauses for a second, debating what to say next, “But if something’s wrong, I’m here. You can talk to me.”

“I know,” You whisper back. And Maker, did you want to.

The cockpit finally succumbs to comfortable silence once again. Despite your endlessly wandering mind, it was even harder to stay awake now. Thinking about all the possibilities and paths was far too overwhelming. It took up more energy than you had. So, just as Din expected, you drift off to sleep, your exhaustion finally taking hold.

He looks over at you, curled up against the co-pilot’s chair, laying on your side, facing him. You had fallen asleep; he knew you would. You always did. Din smirks, you never did listen. He loved that about you, your stubbornness, your independence. He knows you can’t stay like that though, sleeping on that rigid chair, but he doesn’t want to wake you up. You barely sleep enough as it is.

He stands up from the pilot’s chair and walks over towards you, carefully taking your legs under one arm and your upper body under the other. He scoops you up and walks out of the cockpit and towards the one and only bunk on the Crest.

You can feel the cold beskar against your side, your skin slightly exposed as your shirt rides up your stomach. You absent-mindedly nestle into Din’s chest, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Din?” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck. Part of you thinks this isn’t real, that you’re dreaming, and you’ll wake up in the co-pilot’s chair alone.

He shushes you softly, his thumb gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. “I’ve got you, cyare.” His voice is calmer than usual, more relaxed. “You fell asleep in the cockpit.” He approaches the bunk, loosening his hold on you ever-so-slightly as he carefully places you down onto the bed. But you don’t let go of him, you want to keep him close.

Once he’s sure you’re secure in the bunk, his hands slide out from under your body and up to where your arms rest around his neck. He doesn’t let go. It isn’t until you feel his fingers brushing against your bare arms that you realize his gloves are off.

Maybe now is the time to test the waters. You can feel the word vomit coming up, burning your metaphorical and emotional esophagus. And Maker, do you wish he’d just lay down with you, sleep next to you. Maybe the risk is worth the reward.

“Would you stay with me?” The words finally leave your lips. You’re shocked at your ability to ask a question like that. You had never shared the bunk before. One of you always slept in the cockpit. “You should rest too,” You say, trying to cover up your true intentions.

Din shifts a bit in his spot, but he still doesn’t let go of you. You can see the gears turning in his head. “Okay,” He decides. You practically gasp with shock, and you embarrassingly do your best to hide it.

He takes his armor off, but not his helmet, like he always does. You’ll never get over how he looks without his chest plate, his broad shoulders, his tan skin. You move further into the bunk, giving Din space to climb in next to you. He shuts the door to the bunk, and only once the tiny space has been encased in darkness does he remove his helmet.

You’re up against one another, face to face, no space in between – not even an inch. You’d never been with him when he didn’t have his helmet on. Your stomach does a backflip at the thought that he feels safe taking it off with you, even if it’s in the darkness.

He hesitantly drags his hand up to your waist, resting it softly just above your hip. “Is this okay, cyare?” You had never heard his voice unmodulated. It’s clearer, unadulterated. Honey, golden, but still somehow rough. You want to replay every word that he says.

You hum a yes into the darkness. You nervously bring your hand up to his neck, waiting briefly for him to protest – but he doesn’t. “What’s that mean, cyare?” You ask, struggling to pronounce the word.

He takes a few seconds before answering your question. You can’t help but think that you’ve pressed too far. “Don’t worry about it,” He says finally. Yep, pressed too far, you think to yourself.

You quickly remove your hand from his neck, immediately realizing that you’ve crossed a million boundaries all within a matter of seconds. “I’m sorry I just-,”

He grabs your hand before you can get too far away from him. “It means beloved,” He says curtly. “And cyar’ika,” He pauses, and you can hear him swallow harshly. “It means sweetheart.”

You try not to overthink his confessions, or translations rather. They could just be meaningless pet names that have absolutely nothing to do with how he feels for you. Why get riled up only to be brought back down?

But then again, there’s no avoiding this forever, and there’s no time like the present.

“Din,” You whisper. You’re not sure you can finish your sentence. You can feel his breath brush against your lips. “I…” You trail off, noticing how much the bunk smells like him, musk and spice and something else you can’t quite place.

“What is it, mesh’la?” He asks.

You laugh anxiously to yourself. “You didn’t tell me what that one means,” You say, trying to stall, to buy time.

“I’ll tell you once you tell me what’s on your mind,” He says coolly, as if none of this is affecting him. He knows what he’s doing.

You take a deep breath. “I think about you Din,” You mumble nervously. “All the time, and I think I-,”

He cuts you off, stealing the words from you, as if he could read your mind. “I love you.”

His lips come crashing down onto yours in the darkness. The kiss isn’t rushed or hurried, but there’s a hunger to it, a feeling you’ve never felt before. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him – if that’s even possible.

You’re almost upset when he comes up for air. It isn’t enough, you need more. You want to be forged to him somehow, irreversibly, and irrevocably sealed to one another.

“I love you,” You say to him, breathing heavily, your heart beating out of your chest.

“I know,” He says back, his lips meeting yours once again.

His hand slips under your shirt, his thumbs dragging against your skin. Heat rushes to your core and you can’t help but let out a soft moan – after all, you and Din are far beyond touch starved.

He pushes himself up and over you so that you’re held down underneath him. Your hands explore his entire body, his waist, his stomach, his abs, until you finally reach his face. You find his lips with the tips of your fingers. Din peppers them with kisses as you glide upwards towards his nose, then the bags under his eyes, his forehead. You wished you could see his face, but for now this would do. This was more than enough. This was more than you could have ever asked for.

“Wanted this for so long, cyare,” Din says between breaths. He burrows his head into your neck, nipping at the exposed skin. “Wanted you this whole time,” He says, his lips pressed against your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move further up your body, pushing under your bra. “Please Din,” You mumble. “Need you.” And that’s all the permission he needs. He pushes your shirt up and over your head, throwing it somewhere in the mess of bunk, along with your bra.

He rolls his thumb over one nipple before moving to the other. “You’re so fucking perfect, so beautiful,” He sighs, pinching your nipple slightly before trailing down towards the waist band of your shorts. He tugs on the fabric and dips his hand inside. He feels the outside of your panties, already soaked through. “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already so wet for me mesh’la.”

You squirm underneath him. You need him to touch you, to do something, anything. “Din,” You mutter. “I-,”

Before you can finish your sentence, he’s yanking your shorts and your panties down your legs. He climbs back over you, his hand trailing up your inner thigh before diving into your folds and settling on your clit.

“Wanna make you come, pretty girl,” He whispers against your ear, his fingers making quick work of rubbing your clit. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing. His words alone could send you over the edge.

You shudder under his touch as he quickens his pace. “Feels s’good,” You moan into his mouth as his lips come down onto yours.

“Doing so good for me,” Din murmurs. “Being such a good girl.” You can feel yourself getting closer and closer as Din’s fingers press harder against your clit, circling faster. You throw your head back and moan his name.

Then, out of nowhere, Din’s hand leaves your heat. You need more, you need to feel him. “Please don’t stop,” You beg shamelessly. The covers shuffle as he moves, and you can feel the weight of the mattress sink a bit.

He doesn’t give you much time to grieve the loss of his fingers, his tongue dragging up the inside of your thigh. “Oh fuck,” You whimper as Din’s mouth meets your heat. You can feel his beard softly scratching against your legs. He brings his fingers towards your folds, pushing inside. “S-shit,” You stutter as Din pumps two fingers in and out of you.

His tongue alternates between swirling around your core and sucking roughly against your clit. “You taste so good, so fucking good,” Din’s voice vibrates against you, making it harder to hold on. “Can’t wait to be inside of you.” His fingers pick up their merciless pace, pumping in and out.

“Din, I-I can’t…” You trail off, unable to finish your sentence. You’re on the brink, you can’t hold back any longer.

“I’ve got you, pretty girl,” Din coos. He laps at your folds in between sentences. “Let go for me mesh’la.”

You feel your walls tightening around his fingers as waves of searing hot pleasure wash over you. “Din!” You cry out, his fingers still pushing in and out of your folds, his mouth still sucking softly against you. He slows his pace as you come down from your high before finally pulling away from you.

He pushes himself back on top of you, his forehead coming up to rest against yours. You reach down, your fingertips brushing against his erection.

“Need you inside of me, Din, please,” You beg, jerking him off gently through his pants. Din groans audibly, and you stop for a moment to hook your fingers under his waistband. Din helps you, shoving them and his boxers down his legs and casting them off into the mess that you two had made.

He grabs his cock in his hand, jerking it off a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. You can feel the head of his length as he pushes through your folds and sinks all the way inside you. You can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as he fills you up. He moans your name, and it hangs in the air, reverberates against the walls of the bunk.

“So fucking tight for me,” He groans, pulling himself out of you to pump back in and bottom out. He’s so deep inside of you, hitting the right spot with each thrust. “You feel so good.” You clench around his length at the sound of his voice.

He reaches down, the tips of his fingers once again finding their way to your clit. Din immediately begins rubbing rough circles, just as he did before. He finds his pace, rutting in and out of you rhythmically. It isn’t long until you feel yourself growing closer to your peak.

“Din,” You sigh, barely able to get a word out. “I’m so close.”

“M-me too, pretty girl,” Din stutters, somehow finding a way to pump into you harder and faster. “F-fuck, taking me so well.” He presses harder into your clit, circling around your core. You bring your hands up to his back, digging your nails down into his skin. It was too much. You could feel yourself getting closer with each thrust. You can feel your walls tightening uncontrollably around him. “That’s it, good girl. Come for me.” And you can’t help but give in.

“D-Din!” You practically scream his name, coming undone around him. You throw your head back, seeing sparks and stars as you hit your peak. Din is close behind, his pace growing sloppier as he comes inside you. He slowly thrusts in and out before pulling out.

He takes a deep breath, his forehead coming down to rest on yours.

“You’re so perfect,” He whispers, his breath ghosting your nose. “Shouldn’t have waited so long to do that…” He trails off, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“I love you Din,” You say, still out of breath. “I always have. I would’ve waited longer if I had to.”

He kisses you again, even gentler than last time. “I always knew you’d be the death of me,” He chuckles. You can feel his laugh vibrate through his face, through his whole body. No beskar, no hiding. “And I promise, I will always love you, cyar’ika…

“Always.”

Yeah, I saw sparks

Yeah, I saw sparks

And I saw sparks

Yeah, I saw sparks

[thestoryden]

Savior

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Depictions of S.A., Somnophilia, Violence, Incest, Crying, References to Abuse

Word Count: 1k

A/N: This is my first time writing for HOTD. I wasn't sure if their was an interest for x reader fics for HOTD bc it has such dense lore that it can be difficult to deviate from the source material. I started to see a few fics pop up here and there on my timeline and figured I give it a shot. If you'd like to see more like this feel free to write a request. Hope you enjoy.

Masterlist / Taglist / Requests: Open

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / ?

Savior

When you wake there is barely any light in your room, but a sliver of moon light that cuts through the drapery. You feel light hungry kisses on your cheek and jaw. You feel fingers softly touching your neck and the weight of another pressed into your body.

“You’re such a lovely creature,” A familiar voice purrs.

The kisses trail down your neck and deepen as he reaches the crock of your neck. Silvery hair glints in the faint light. You try to orient yourself as you wake fully. You screech and attempt to shove him off you. He pins your arms above your head.

“Do not spurn my love.” He whispers as he reaches up and brushes hair away from your neck.

He kisses your neck again and runs his free hand down your body. You flinch under his touch. Terrified.

“Dear sister, please, do not be scared. I only wish you to indulge me. I won’t hurt you.” Aegon whispers.

“Get. Off. Me.” You say through gritted teeth.

Aegon leans back a little and stares at you, dumbfounded. He knits together his eyebrows. He can’t fathom this rejection.

“You just looked so peaceful sleeping.” Aegon sputters

“Aemond!” You shout.

“I just, I wanted you.” Aegon reasserts.

“Aemond, please help me.” You scream.

Aemond rushes through the door. Sword drawn. He points it at the shadowy figure on your bed.

“Off her at once, or I will run you through.” He demands

He would have already run them through but worries he may strike you in the process.

“Is that anyway to speak to your future king?” Aegon questions.

Aemond sword does not falter as Aegon rises. He follows him with it as the blade glints in the low light. You reach to your bedside table and grasp around till you find a match. You strike it lighting the candle next to you.

“Your insatiable desires shall kill us all, Aegon.” Aemond says.

“You don’t know the hunger I face.” Aegon retorts.

“If you hunger so deeply surely you can do your duty and lay with Helena.” Aemond presses.

“She’d sooner bring her bugs into our bed.” Aegon laughs.

“You might as well be one of them.” Aemond says, “Now, leave us.”

Aemond points to his sword to the door. Aegon walks to the door with his hands up.

“Admit it, you just want her for yourself.” Aegon teases.

“Leave us.” Aemond demands.

You sit on your bed knees to your chest. Tears bubble over and spill down your cheeks. You rub the fabric of your nightgown between you thumb and index finger. Your braid has come loose and is frizzy. You look up through your tears as Aemond sits at the foot of your bed. He sets his sword on the bed. Your curl in tighter.

“Did he hurt you?” Aemond questions.

“No,” You say through gritted teeth, “I do not bleed anywhere.”

Aemond breathes a sigh of relief, and then opens his arms.

“Come.” He commands.

You crawl from your place over to him. Snot drips down your face. He takes a small rag from his pocket and wipes your face clean. You feel like a frail animal as you collapse into his grasp. He undoes your braid gently and smooths your hair back.

“I can ask for one of the serving girls to come and redo it if you’d like.” Aemond says quietly.

You shake your head in response. Usually, you’d meet him with a quip, but you can’t find it with in yourself right now. You can’t meet his gaze. You feel as though you might shrink away to nothing. He tenderly places his hand against your neck. There are deep bruises along it.

“At least let me bring you something for these wounds.” He begs.

It is not like him to plead and be tender, but he is for you. He always finds himself able to do you the service of caring for you.

You grip the hem of his shirt, “Please, don’t leave me. I do not wish to be alone.”

You sniff. Trying to be strong and stuff down the feelings. You feel like you may burst as you force the words past your throat and on to your lips.

“He is so cruel.” You sob.

Aemond holds you to his chest and lets your tears soak in to his shirt as he runs his hand through your hair.

“I can not deny that.” He confesses.

“What if when he is king…” You trail off.

You try so hard not to think about the power he will wield and what that will mean for you. You had attempted to confide in Helena about it in the past, but she would only repeat nonsense about a golden dragon with three heads. She had lost her self to her dreams long ago, and you wondered if there was anything left of her other than dreams.

Despite already having already having a bride. Aegon constantly chased you. He wanted you and he enjoyed tormenting you in ways that he said were his love. When he becomes king, you know you shall surely suffer.

“There will never be any end to this torment.” You whisper.

Aemond props you up his arms, “Allow me to do this service for you. I will ask mother for your hand.”

“Aemond, we are needed to be open for alliances, you know that as much as I.” You say quietly.

“None of that matters if Aegon destroys you in his pursuits.” Aemond says, “She will not deny both of us asking.”

“What about duty. We fail if we can not strengthen the crown with alliances.” You question.

“My duty is first to protect our family, and second to protect the crown.” He asserts.

Your head spins. You could finally be safe. You could be free from the suffering.

“Aemond, will you really plead my cause?” You ask.

He takes your hand in his, “I will not stop till we are betrothed and you are safe.”

[xo-urban]

okay dear husband, got a lil request for you 😌

arthur morgan falling in love with a baker, an absolute sweetheart of a man and exactly the type Arthur meant when he told those ladies that were still a few people worth loving and dying for.

once they're in a official relationship, arthur get's so flustered bc his baker treats him like an absolute prince, like sure as hell he won't let anyone kiss his cheek and call him "my handsome man", or the baker hugging the shit out of him and arthur leaning in knowing how much he values his personal space.

plus, the baker is taller and naturally bigger than arthur, i'm a sucker for the gentle giant trope.

love youuu muack 💕

Love you too handsome 🫶

Made With Love

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Bigger!Baker!Male Reader

Summary: You find yourself falling in love with a cowboy who fell for your baked goods first.

Word Count: 1160

“Mr. Morgan!” Grimshaw called out to the man who was readying to leave camp for the nearby town for some time for himself. The tall man turned his head, giving her his full attention. He raised a brow, looking at her before she shoved some money into his face.

“There’s a new bakery in the town you’re going to, could you kindly get me one? Don’t care which, I just wanna try, also get one for yourself too Mr. Morgan!” The woman quickly spoke before hurrying off.

Arthur sighed, shaking his head with a smile. “C’mon then girl, let’s get this outta the way.” Arthur mounted on top of his beautiful mare before snapping the reins, trotting out of camp and into the heart of town.

…

The soft smell of freshly baked bread warmed your shop as you carefully made your way to a counter to place the hot tray down. You smiled proudly at the batch, tossing the rag that helped you hold it to the side before you let the bread sit, grabbing another tray that had been resting and carefully began to set it out. These were glazed in a fine dark chocolate, some with crushed almonds on top.

It has only been a few weeks since your grand opening, but business has been over the roof. It was only you who ran the shop, recipes were made by you, service was you, the baker was also you. But you handled it well, it was a small shop and you alone could run it easily.

Just then, the small ringing of your bell sounded through the small bakery, causing you to stand up straighter with a welcoming smile. You saw a rugged looking cowboy with a grouchy expression before he looked up to meet your eyes, his face softening and you could’ve sworn he took your breath away.

You definitely have not seen him before, but you had no reason to turn him away either. He was shorter than you by a couple inches, smaller too. He interrupted your thoughts when he walked up to you, looking at your pastries, his face thinking hard.

“Anything in particular that fancies you? Chocolate? Caramel?” You asked sweetly, placing down the tray to help the confused guy. The man tilted his head, pointing at the chocolate covered one that you were about to put out. “Can I have that one? If it won’t be too much of a hassle.” The man spoke softly, was he shy? This grizzled man being shy, talking to you?

You nodded with a smile, grabbing a small brown paper bag to put it in, “Anything else today sir?” You asked, turning to him once more. His face became rosy when he looked at your face again. “You don’t happen to have anything sweet? Sugary but not exactly chocolate?” He asked, watching you smile.

“Course I do! I’ve been trying out this new berry recipe but I haven’t got it to my liking yet, do you mind being the first person to try it out then Mr…?” You trailed off, looking at him. “Morgan, Arthur Morgan.” He replied, smiling, oh god his smile, the way it compliments his face so much and how it brightens up the room. It was adorable.

“And I surely don’t mind” Arthur chuckled, you quickly nodded, running out back to decorate the pastry before hurrying back out to see Arthur still standing there, patiently waiting for you.

You bagged the food up before turning to Arthur. “Don’t worry about paying for it, it’ll be on me!” You smiled at the man who shook his head. “No no! I’ll pay for it” Arthur protested, digging around in his satchel for the money Grimshaw gave him, pulling it out.

“I ain’t accepting it Arthur!” You exclaimed with a laugh, denying the money, trying to place the pastries into his hand. “You better!” Arthur huffed.

“Just take it, you can pay the next time you come around, just not today alright?” You offered, looking at Arthur’s rosy face before he sighed, nodding in agreement. “Better stick to it or you lose a future customer!” Arthur warned, hand extending as the other rested on the counter he leaned against.

You chuckled, “I will, you have my word Arthur” You hummed, placing the bag in his hold, your hands brushing against one another, the softness and warmth was so nice but so short lived when he pulled away.

The two of you shared a smile before Arthur turned to walk out but stopped midway, turning back to look at you. “I’ll see you tomorrow alright?” Arthur hummed, you nodded with an answer, “Of course, come visit when you have the time, I’ll have more for you to try out!”

Arthur smiled, tilting his hat before he walked out, leaving you alone with a warm bubbly feeling in your chest.

Arthur usually came to visit your shop every few days to buy a bunch of baked goods and to try out any new masterpiece you baked out back. Course you two grew feelings for each other. It began out with long conversations to longer lingering touches, compliments till he asked you to walk with him sometimes, a stroll around town, sometimes you’d dare to hold hands to keep each other closer for longer.

Then months later he asked you out, invited you to dinner under the stars after you closed up your shop, formally asking you, though it sounded more like pleading, for you to be his boyfriend.

How could you say no to him? He had the softness of silk, the protectiveness of a mother bear, the love of an angel, the understanding of your boundaries. What more could you ask for? Arthur was perfect.

But Arthur never came to visit you this week, saying he was busy and had to do jobs for his family before he could return back into your arms.

You missed him so much, dreading for your handsome man to return. You looked up when you heard your bell sound through the bakery once more, finding yourself staring at the man you missed for so long.

“Hope it wasn’t too long sugar” Arthur smiled, eyes widening when you practically leaped over the counter and into his arms, embracing the cowboy in a tight hug. “It was too damn long!” You exclaimed with a frown, his face tucked in its rightful place in the crook of his neck.

Arthur leaned into your hug, knowing how much this doesn’t happen before he cupped your face gently, kissing your cheeks before your lips met his own, his thumbs wiping your building tears away.

Arthur smiled softly, your hold loosening, putting your boyfriend down with a happy sigh before he spoke.

“Sugar.. I’m kind of hungry.. Can you make the berry pastry again? The one you gave me a long time ago?”

“Of course my love. With extra love this time so you stay!”

[milawritesstuff]

jealous gavi smut?!?? I love ur fics/blurbs (idk the name of it I’m sorry) but it’s so GOOD !!

A/N: I can totally picture Gavi being super jealous of any girl he brings around the team bc he’s the youngest and ppl try to underestimate him. Don’t you think?

Warnings: ⚠️ Smut

•••

You and Pablo arrived hand in hand to Camp Nou for the game. Pablo had been injured and he had not been cleared to return yet. He put his arm around your shoulder as the two of you sat down. Pablo turned over to look at you and planted a kiss on your forehead with a smile.

The two of you had been dating for months but had only been public for a few weeks. Your relationship was still new to many who didn’t know the two of you closely.

“Everyone is watching.” You told Pablo. You could feel the eyes of the club’s fans looking over at your section. “Do you care?” He asked. You shook your head. You didn’t care if others saw but you were hesitant about what they would say. Many didn’t like that you were dating Gavi and found anything to hate on you for. You knew Pablo didn’t understand this and that he was actually annoyed you had even said anything because he didn’t understand why you wanted to keep things a secret in the beginning. In fact the subject had been the cause of many fights between the two of you. “Who are you trying to hide me from?” Had asked Gavi.

After the game the two of you went to to the locker rooms for Pablo to greet his teammates. As you waited outside for him you heard a familiar voice behind you. It was Ferran.

“Hola guapa.” He said as he took you into a hug.

“Great game Fer.” You responded with a double kiss on either cheek.

“How’s Pablo?” He asked. “Eager to return.” You chuckled.

The two of you stood talking there for a few minutes until Pablo came back out. Ferran and Pablo exchanged greetings before Ferran said goodbye to you. “Take care, guapa. See you soon.”

Pablo was quiet on the walk to his car until he finally broke the silence. “How long have you known Ferran?” He asked as he opened the door to his car for you. “Since we were little kids. Our families would spend summer holidays together.” You explained.

Pablo remained silent. “Did you two ever date?” He finally asked.

“No.” You answered point blank. “Why?”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.” He finally admitted. “You have nothing to worry with Ferran, trust me. Apart from a makeout session years ago, he’s like a brother.”

Pablo clenched his teeth and turned over to take a quick look at you as he drove. “Wait, you hadn’t told me about this before.”

“It was nothing Pablo. We were drunk teenagers on holiday and it just happened.”

“Well did you like it?” Continued Pablo.

“Come on Pablo. I don’t even remember it. We were too drunk.”

“So what if you did like it?”

“The fact that I don’t remember it says a lot, I think.” You said with a chuckle.

“You think it’s funny?” He asked.

“Calm down Pablo, it’s just weird to talk to you about this. You’re my boyfriend and nothing in the past should matter now.”

Pablo was clearly upset. You could see his furrowed eyebrows and the way his nose scrunched up as he gripped on to the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white.

You placed your hand on his thigh catching him off guard. “Would you like for me to show you that you have nothing to worry about?” You asked as you licked your lips and moved your hand up higher.

He turned over to look at you with eyes wide open. “I’m driving Y/N, don’t do this to me right now.” The rest of the drive home felt as if Pablo was driving 1000 miles per hour. His hand over yours.

As soon as you stepped into his house Pablo grabbed your hand and led you towards his room. “Let me show you that you won’t need anyone but me.” He said in a hungry voice as he pulled your shirt up and threw it on the ground.

Before you knew it you were laying on Pablo’s bed and he was leaving trails of kisses down your chest and eventually landed right on your core. With a few licks of his tongue Pablo had you yelling out his name. “Pablo…” you whimpered. “Say my name baby. Who else can make you feel like this?”

You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue darting in and out of you. You loved how hungry he was every time the two of you were alone. He held you legs open as he placed small kisses on your thighs. “Just you, Pablo.” You finally responded.

Before you could say anything else Pablo went back to your clit. With little nibbles he caused you to lose control. Your hips began to buck up “stop!” He said as he tried to hold you down. “Pablo, please.” You pleaded which caused a smirk to show on his face.

“I hate the way they all look at you.” He went on as he moved up your body. “Who?” You were caught off guard. “My teammates, every time I bring you around, one of them has to be clinging on to you.” He took one of your nipples in his mouth as he kneaded the other with his cold hands. “Pablo you’re exaggerating, but even if they were you’re the one I go home with.” You tried to reassure him but today Gavi wasn’t having it.

He grabbed your hands and placed them above your head. His lips immediately attached to your neck where he began to leave small bites. You could feel him getting harder as he grinded onto you, his dick trying to push itself out of his underwear. “Pablo you’re going to leave marks on my neck.”

“That’s exactly what I want to do.” He said. “I want them all to know you’re mine.” I want you to remember who makes you become a moaning mess when you look at your neck in the mirror. “Pablo, please. Stop teasing.”

“I’m not teasing baby girl. I just want you to remember how it will feel if you can’t have me, if you leave me for anyone else.” His lips now back on your breast. “I’m not leaving Gavi.” You reassure him.

He dips two fingers inside of you causing you to gasp. “Gavi, more.” You plead. He takes his fingers out of you and brings them up to his mouth before sucking them dry. The pure vision of this makes your core tingle. “Pablo, please fuck me.”

“Tell me who you belong to Y/N” he says with lustful eyes on you.

“Pablo Gavira.”

“Who makes you come over and over again?”

“You, Gavi. Nobody else.”

Finally he hears what he had been longing to hear and thrusts into you. He groans as you open your legs even wider. You need all of him inside of you. He goes in harder and deeper each time. He’s rough tonight. He slaps your ass and proceeds to pull your hair. This makes you moan, the pain excites you.

The way his abs lead the perfect trail to his dick and the way his hips push himself into you. How could you ever want to miss this view? He pulls out of you and asks for you to turn around. Your knees on the bed as you lean forward and open yourself to him. He goes in again but this time faster. He grabs onto your hips and thrusts faster and faster. He’s becoming sloppier but you don’t want it to end. He is able to go in deeper in this position and you love to feel him being this aggressive. His hand reached for your clit as he continues to thrust into you. He forms small circles around you which drives you crazy. “Pablo.” You moan.

“Say my name.” He says in between whimpers. He pulls your hair one last time which sends you in overdrive. “Pablo Gavira. I love how you fuck me.” Your last sentence sends HIM in overdrive. You can feel him coming, he lays on you as the both of you catch your breathe.

As he takes himself out of you and you lay on the bed you turn around to him with a smirk. “I should make you jealous more often, Gavi.”

[pedroshotwifey]

Favorite Bounty chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Din Djarin x afab!bounty!reader

Chapter word count: 7.3k

Chapter summary: Being on the run is harder than you thought...

Chapter tags/warnings: angst, canon-typical violence, cliffhangers bc I like chaos, stuff I'm forgetting

A/N: Hey, y'all!! I'm so, so sorry this took so long to get out! I think I had gotten used to writing shorter fics, so doing a long chapter was just kind of a pain for me. I'm super happy to get this updated though. Gonna go ahead and say that this will likely be a short series with less than ten chapters purely because of the length of each one, but that's not set in stone. If this is your first time reading this series, there are four parts before this! <3

****

It’s easy to get lost in the crowd once you step off the Crest. Mando had landed fairly close to the open market but, unfortunately, a good bit away from the spaceport. You immediately get sucked into the throng of people browsing the shops, your heart pounding hard against your ribs. The only thought that settles your ridiculous pulse is that you must be pretty damn hard to find mixed in with this lot. Though, of course, you know Mando, and you know that if he really wanted to spot you, he would. Bounty hunting fucking bastard.

You can't help but look over your shoulder every couple of minutes. Each time you do so, you fully expect to see Mando trailing behind you, cuffs in hand. You choose to ignore the pang of hurt in your chest when you think about him—about how easily he betrayed you. It didn’t even seem like he gave it a second thought. You curse yourself for dwelling on the issue and shake your head. You can't afford to waste time on facts you have already accepted. 

You stumble as a man knocks into your shoulder, bringing you out of your thoughts and making you lose your balance. You narrowly miss running into a woman holding hands with a young boy as you struggle to keep yourself up. You flash her a sorry look in response to her dirty one. You really need to figure out where you’re supposed to be going. You’re unfamiliar with Nevarro’s layout so you have no idea what direction you should go.

You walk straight for a few minutes before you decide that isn’t going to get you anywhere. This part of the planet is so ridiculously congested that there's no point in even moving your feet if you don’t have a set path. There's no telling which way you might be swept. kriff, a few minutes from now, you might realize that you had been traveling in a circle, and hadn’t even noticed.

Deciding that you would like to avoid such a circumstance, you push your way out to the side of the crowd so you can find somewhere to get a better view. You have to be quick about it—you know you’re low on time as it is, you can’t waste precious seconds trying to figure out a game-plan. You need to come up with a quick and easy route in a quick and easy fashion. 

Fortunately, as you push your way out of the heated blob of people, you spot a building that looks easy enough to get on top of. It's not super high up, so you won’t attract any unwanted attention, but it’s just tall enough for you to be able to spot the space-port. 

You figure it’s the best plan you’re going to be able to think of for now, so you quickly scramble to the side of the building, stopping in front of the ladder that goes all the way up to the top. Grabbing the first wrung, you begin to climb up, glancing back every now and out of paranoia. Of course, Mando’s never there, but you can’t help but check just in case. 

On the roof, you find that it’s easy—just as you suspected—to spot the port over the thousands of people. You easily map out a path before rushing back down the ladder. It shouldn’t take too long to get to the port, most of the roads you picked out were clear of people for the most part. 

Once your feet are back on the ground, you take off toward the first turn in your plan. It looks pretty busy, but from here it should be smooth sailing.

You become part of the market crowd the second you turn onto the street. Your jaw drops at the sight of so many people in one place. And you had thought there had been a lot of people around the crest… that was nothing. It definitely didn’t look like that many people from above. 

The throng of people is quick to take you into its embrace as you hastily make your way into the streets filled to the brim with shops. Everywhere you look, there is some kind of cart or stand offering some kind of merchandise. You ignore it all as you try to push your way through the crowd. 

It’s a bit hard to do when there are vendors shouting in your ear and popping out in front of you, making you stop briefly as they shove their product in your face. You resist the urge to push people out of your way. You really don’t have the time—or patience—for this right now, but you don’t need to draw unwanted attention. 

You look for signs posted with directions, letting them guide you until you’re able to push your way out of the main strip and into a less crowded street. You let out a breath of relief as you take in your surroundings, noticing the port close by. It’s not a straight shot, but it should only take you another few minutes or so. 

You try to stay discreet as you cling to sides of buildings and use hanging awnings for cover. It’s surprisingly hard to act nonchalant and unsuspicious if you’re trying too hard to do so. Having a price on your head is a real pain in the ass.

Adrenaline starts to sneak into your system as you grow close enough to the ships to decide which one to take. You need to be quick and choose one that will be leaving within the next few minutes. You know well enough to be aware of the fact that security will start to check passengers if there’s word of an escaped bounty. You can feel your breath starting to grow thinner and your body getting hotter. 

There’s a passenger ship near the back of the port. It seems smart enough to catch something like that so you don’t seem like you’re, well, on the run. You look around again before starting that way, breezing past people to find the line for tickets. You cross your fingers that there will be spots available on such short notice. 

As you approach the stand, you discover that there are only a few people waiting to purchase a seat. By the time you’re standing still, there’s only one person in front of you. A warm feeling rushes through your body, making you almost light-headed. You’re so close to escaping. Nobody ever does that.  

“Next!” 

You take a breath as you step up, trying to calm your nerves. 

“Hi, I need to get one ticket to…” you glance at the sign hanging from the stand. “Coruscant.” You wince internally. That probably isn't the best place to go in this situation, but at least you’ll be off of this planet. 

The woman looks at you skeptically, obviously confused by why you didn’t even know where the ship would be going. You flash her what you hope is a disarming smile as she squints and tells you your total none-the-less. 

You quickly swing your bag around and unzip it, pulling out your money. You’re handing it over when you hear your name called from behind you. 

Your heart drops to your ass as you turn, wide eyed, to see Mando running full speed at you. You don’t even have a second to think before you’re running too, scanning the area in front of you for an escape route. 

Curses repeat themselves endlessly in your panicked mind as you spy a ship getting ready to depart. It’s beat up and seedy looking, but it’s also likely your only chance. With one more glance behind you, you turn sharply to the left and make a bee-line for your escape. 

You try to focus on your breathing instead of the Mandalorian quickly gaining on you. The ship you’re headed toward is already starting to descend, and you just about triple your efforts. 

You hear your name again, and it makes you wince. A dull throb starts in your chest. Being this close in proximity with Mando again, but now as official enemies, hurts in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

You’ve been betrayed before, but not in such an intimate way. The fact that he pretended to have genuine interest in you—to engage in sexual acts with you—when he knew the entire time that he would be turning you in for a reward, digs deep into your chest like a rusted knife. 

Tears are obstructing your vision before you can deny them, but you push through until you’re only a few feet away from your ship. The gangplank is still open about halfway, but it should be enough for you to squeeze through by the time you reach it. It’s maybe five feet in the air right now, so it’s going to be tough to get up there.

Mando is only a few feet behind you now. You lunge for the plank with everything you have, and your fingers grasp on by just a few inches, the jagged metal stinging as you pull up enough to get both arms up. 

You look at the ground, seeing Mando coming to a stop from where you just jumped. You’re up too high now for him to jump after you, but you forget he has his jetpack until it comes to life. You scramble up the plank as it continues closing to avoid getting cut in half. 

In the end, it’s your only saving grace. You and Mando are able to see each other face to helmet briefly before you’re closed inside, and you make sure to let him see the raw anguish on your face before it does so. You almost wish he had that stupid helmet off so you could see for yourself if the asshole has any kind of remorse. 

A shuddering breath escapes from your lips as you wipe your tears. You turn around on your knees to examine the ship. It’s dark, dingy, and smells absolutely horrid. There’s no crew in sight, to your absolute relief. 

Resisting the urge to gag at the stench, you begin to crawl quietly away from the closed hatch. There are crates everywhere, taking as much floor space as possible and stacked as high as they can go. You’re confused for a moment as to why there needs to be so much product on board, but then a heavy realization dawns on you. 

These chests are filled with spice. 

You’ve seen these come in at your job at the junkyard. Old ones that had surpassed any kind of use for runners. Never in your life though, have you ever seen so many in one place. You absentmindedly hold your breath as you crawl forward, trying to find a place to hide. 

You stop in your tracks when you hear laughter coming from the cockpit—at least two men. 

Shitshitshitshitshit

There’s no getting out of this if you’re discovered. Your heart races in your chest as fear overtakes your body. You really can’t seem to catch a fucking break, can you?

You look around frantically until you see a small space toward the ceiling. It’s partially covered by a crate, which will make it harder to get to, but better for hiding. You scootch to the end of the crate you’re currently behind, peeking your head out just enough to make sure the hull is clear. 

As soon as you’re in the clear, you bolt as quickly and quietly as you can toward the concealed space. As you approach, you map out the notches and grooves you’re going to use to climb up there. 

Step by shaky step,  you pull yourself up, ignoring the stinging cuts in your hands and forearms from the plank. They’re not very deep or wide, but the strain on them hurts almost just as much. 

The crate at the top wobbles as you put all of your weight on it, the entire stack swaying slightly. Your eyes flutter shut as you mutter a silent prayer. It’s much too precarious for your liking as you swing one leg onto the edge of the cubby. You’re way too close for this plan to fail now. 

You’re only able to take a full breath once your entire body is safely tucked within the small space. It’s cozy, barely enough room for you to sit comfortably. You don’t even think it’s big enough to lay down if you wanted to. 

Chatting and laughter continues from the front of the ship as you slowly pull the crate in front of you to conceal you better. It’s heavy as hell and you have to nudge it inch by inch so as to not make a screeching sound against the one below it. 

Once you’re satisfied with the placement, you lean back against the cold metal wall behind you. Now that the exhaustion is beginning to seep into your bones, you can’t help but think that the feeling reminds you of sitting in the Razor Crest. 

You don’t stop the tears that run down your cheeks now. You deserve to cry after the week you’ve had. 

****

You realize much too late that you have no idea where this ship could be going, nor how long it’s going to take to get there. You have food and water in your bag, but you don’t know how you’re supposed to go about your other…needs. 

Thankfully, it seems that the destination is close enough to only be in hyperspace for what you assume was about half the day. You’re half asleep when you feel the tell-tale jerk of the ship coming out of it. It startles you enough to wake up the rest of the way, and you silently scold yourself for letting your guard down for so long—though you can’t remember exactly when you last got some decent sleep. 

The ship rattles as it cuts through the atmosphere of whatever planet it’s dropping this shit off at. The thought crossed your mind at one point that you could have possibly inhaled some of the spice lingering in the air. 

How great would that be? Trying to plead guilty of whatever crime you supposedly committed and then failing a drug test. Really screams “I’m innocent!” You roll your eyes, tired of your brain making up scenarios to throw you through more hoops. 

The ship stops rattling after a moment, and you can feel the glide as it lowers to the ground. The crates rattle once again as the ship plants itself. The walls of the craft creak and groan as a swaying starts, which is strange considering you’ve definitely landed. 

The motion makes you sick to your stomach, but it’s almost a welcome distraction from the fact that you’re about to piss yourself. You need to find a way off of this death-trap before one of the runners discovers you. 

You hear the gangplank starting to lower, and as it does, a gust of heavy rain pushes into the hull. A cold spray hits your face, making you flinch and cover yourself with your arm. From the sliver of scenery you can see, the sky appears to be dark, but not enough so for it to be night. 

You’ve heard about places like this; planets that storm every day of the year and never see the sunlight. They’re usually only used for fishermen, junk yards, and spots for spice traders to meet up. Which absolutely makes sense at the moment. 

You back into the cubby as much as you can, making yourself scarce as two men walk out of the ship and into the dreadful weather. They appear to be dressed for it, both of them wearing rubber boots and thick raincoats. You watch them until they’re out of sight, and then wait a few minutes before climbing back down to the floor. 

You get low, bending enough to be concealed by the chests until you get to the opening of the ship. You let out a breath of relief upon seeing that there’s no threat anywhere near at the moment. You’re so sick of luck not being on your side. This is definitely a welcome change. 

The rain is bone-chilling as you step out into it, immediately soaking you. It’s so thick that you can barely see in front of you. A couple buildings are within view every couple of seconds when there’s a break in the sheets of rain due to the heavy wind. With no other options, you decide to head that way. 

As you trek through the unforgiving storm, you can’t help but compare the way the fat drops of water hit your face to being cut by shards of glass. Though even if you were being cut, you would never be able to tell with how fast the blood would be washed from your numb skin. 

When you reach the closest building, you don’t waste a second before pushing the door open. The loud atmosphere of a cantina immediately welcomes you into its warmth. Despite the heat, you still shiver as you make your way through the main room and to the back. You rush into the bathroom and wait until a stall empties. 

As you wait, you get a couple strange looks, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. You just want to pee and find some directions to get the hell out of this place.

****

When you get out of the restroom, you spot an empty stool wedged between a burly looking man with a beard and a plump woman who seems to have had one or a dozen too many. Every other spot is full, so you hop up and lean forward, trying to catch the bartender’s attention. 

She works quickly, cleaning glasses in between serving replacements and taking orders. It takes a moment for her to come your way, but when she does, you have her full attention. 

“What can I get you, hon?” 

The bartender is a clean but busy looking woman with frizzy hair and a stained apron. You clock the kindness in her eyes immediately, and decide to put your trust in her. She looks like one of those women who would offer up a pad or tampon even if it was her last one. 

“Hi, uh, I’m actually not looking for a drink,” you say, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. You’re not sure if it’s there due to the cold, the exhaustion, or the anxiety. “Can you tell me–”

You stop talking when the woman purses her lips and shakes her head. 

“Sorry, babe, I can’t hear you over this damn ruckus,” she gestures to the people around you, and then points to a corner where you assume the entrance to the bar is. “Meet me right there.” At least she can tell you’re not here to party. 

You slide down from your stool and squeeze your way to where she pointed. She’s already there when you get there. She’s taken her apron off, which confuses you slightly. 

“Hey, I–”

“Honey, you need to get out of here,” she cuts you off, hanging up her apron. 

“What, why?” You ask through your stomach dropping. She flashes you a sympathetic look and you return a defeated one. You’re so fucking tired. How long are you going to have to put up with this shit? 

“Bounty Hunter’s Guild just sent out a high stakes bounty warning. Picture looked just like you, babe.” She raises her eyebrows and gives you a pointed look.

You nod at her. Great, so not only do you have pucks out for any hunter that’s willing to find you, but every being in the galaxy has gotten an alert to look out for you. 

“Yup, That would be me.” 

“Mhm, figured. C’mon, let's get you out of this place. I’ve got somewhere you can stay until you can get off-world.” She exits from behind the bar and takes your hand, attempting to pull you with her. 

You give her a wary look, confused as to why she’s helping you. 

“How do I know you’re not turning me in?” 

“Humor me for a second, just come outside at least. Please?” She stops and looks at you, a pleading look in her eyes. 

You lick your lips but decide to follow her. It really doesn’t seem like she wishes you any harm, but you can’t be sure—you never would have thought Mando would, after all. Just outside, like she said. No further until she spills.

You allow her to pull you back the way you came, into the rain, and then down an alley next to the bar. There’s a flickering street lamp tucked under an awning between the two buildings, which the two of you huddle beneath. 

“Look, I’m gonna make this quick,” the woman says before you have a chance to speak. She pauses and watches you intently. You nod at her, signaling for her to continue. 

“I know how this bounty hunting shit is. My sister was hunted for a good while because she was seen outside the scene of a robbery. She was just a pedestrian, but she got taken in and questioned pretty thoroughly and then ended up spending a few nights in a cell. It’s fucked, to put it simply.”

“I don’t even know what I did,” you tell her, your voice cracking just slightly as you shake your head. She gives you that same sympathetic look from the bar. 

“I know. I read the reasoning for your bounty. It was bantha-shit.” 

“Great,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’re well aware that 90% of the population doesn’t care about that—all they’ll see is the pay for turning you in. 

“There’s a place on the outside of the city, it’s been abandoned for a couple years. I’m pretty sure the heat and water are still connected, but nobody ever goes there. It’s an outdated complex. You okay with staying there for a bit?” 

You nod at her, not knowing what else to say. Maybe a thank you? She’s talking again before you get the chance to do that though. 

“Alright, you stay here for just a second,” she instructs before running back into the bar. You lean up against the building, listening to the rain as you let out a shuddering breath. The woman is only gone for a few seconds before she re-emerges with a piece of paper in her hand. 

“These are the instructions to get there from here,” she says, grabbing your hand and shoving the paper into it. “I’m here if you need me, but please don’t try anything if you don’t have to.” 

You look at her, and then the paper, studying the scratchy writing. 

“Thank you, really,” you tell her. She just nods and releases your hand with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Be safe, hon,” she says before ducking back into the bar. 

The trek to the safe house is absolutely miserable. Everything on your body is soaked down, and the paper the woman gave you was starting to fall apart. You had to keep ducking under buildings and awnings to memorize what you could of the directions. 

You’re glad you did, because by the time you reach the place, the paper is non-legible. The building itself is pretty isolated. It appears to have been apartments at one point, but is now just a tall junkyard. There’s piles upon piles of trash around it, but you suppose that only gives more of a reason for people to not go inside. 

Unfortunately for you, you don’t exactly have a choice in the matter. You run up to the first door you see, and curse when you try to pull it open. It’s locked, of fucking course. 

You walk around to the side of the building until you see a window that’s not boarded up. Your palms slip against it as you try to get some leverage to push it up, but with some persistence, it comes loose. You almost fall when it springs up, but at least it’s towards the room inside. 

You glance behind you one more time before pushing yourself in. You close the window behind you and take a deep breath as the deafening storm is somewhat quitened. It’s cold in the room you find yourself in, but it’s far better than being out in that shit. 

Looking around, you spot a stove surrounded by counter space, hanging cabinets, and a small, round table accompanied by four outdated chairs. Definitely a kitchen. There’s what appears to be a hall to your right. You walk toward it, trying to hold back your shivering. 

It’s not super long, but you notice how eerily quiet it is as you walk though. On the other side, there’s a room with a bed and a couch. There are three doors, which you can only assume lead to a bathroom, a closet, and the main hall of the building. 

You open the first door, which goes out into the hall. It sends a gust of even colder air into the room, making your teeth chatter as it envelops your wet body. You look left and right, and then reluctantly step into the freezing hallway. It’s dark as shit, but the occasional uncovered window allows enough—albeit dim—lighting to lead you toward the stairwell. 

There’s a sign tacked on the wall there, and you sigh with relief as you spot the directions to the maintenance room. That must be where you can flip the heat on. It’s not far, just down the first staircase and down the hall a little. Without the windows, the room is even darker than the rest of the building. 

You mutter a curse under your breath, figuring that your best bet is going to be blindly running your hands around the walls until you find a switch. You put your hands out and start to glide them slowly left to right, and then up and down until you find an abnormality in the wall. 

You shudder, trying to ignore the cobwebs that have accumulated on the panel which are now sticking to your hands. As long as they’re not spiders, it’s okay. You hesitantly flip the first one, and then the second. Nothing happens in your area, but you swear you hear a click come from one of the floors above you. 

In quick succession, you flip the rest of the switches, and a light finally comes above you once you reach the second to last one. You huff out a breathy laugh at your luck. Now that you aren’t in total darkness, you can clearly see the other panels around you, along with their labels. 

You flip the switch for water, and then another for heat. A low humming starts above you as you do so, indicating that at least the latter is working. 

A piping hot shower and half a ration bar later, you’re laying on top of a bed under a heater, still trying to warm up. You feel the most relaxed you have since you found your bounty puck, although it still isn’t enough to fall asleep without keeping an eye open. Eventually, though, the humming from the heating system lulls you enough to fall into a half-sleep. 

****

You spend three days on what you’ve learned is Attera Bravo before you run out of luck. Word of a Mandalorian bounty hunter is quickly spread, and you catch wind of such as you pay a visit to town for more rations. The panic which had ebbed away after the last few days is suddenly back in full force. 

You really thought you would have a second to catch your breath, but you’re quickly learning that there is no such thing when there’s a price on your head. While you’re in town, you pick up a few rations on the outskirts, and that’s it. You had wanted to find a rain jacket on your trip, but you decide not to risk being in town for too long. 

So you begin to make the trip back to the safe house without a cover from the cold, biting rain. It sucks ass, but it’s better than carbonite. Even though you’re on the outskirts, you still hug the sides of buildings as you make your exit. Your head keeps snapping towards the slightest movements; a flickering street lamp, a closing door, a flash of far away lightning. 

You break off into a sprint as soon as you’re a few feet away from the cover of the nearest building. You don’t look back as you push yourself, not wanting to risk slowing down. All you can see is the terrifying image of Mando catching up with you like he did on Nevarro. 

You glance at the spaceport as you run past, seeing if you can get a glimpse of the Razor Crest. You don’t see it, but that’s probably for the best. There’s no mistaking that the Mandalorian bounty hunter the town’s people are talking about is your Mandalorian bounty hunter, but seeing the Crest would probably crack something within you. That would mean that the kid is likely with him, and you can’t afford to think about him right now. 

You can hear your heavy breaths over the sound of the rain, and you choose to focus on that instead of the icy chill. You try to take breaths in through your nose to calm yourself, but you just get a nose full of water, so you scratch that and continue your panicked breaths through your mouth. 

Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out, breath in–

Your breath hitches. There’s a buzz coming from behind you, steadily growing louder. You spare a glance over your shoulder, and you can just make out the headlights of what looks to be a speeder bike. The pathetic “no” that leaves your mouth would be extremely embarrassing if anyone were around to hear it. 

You try to pick up your pace, but almost trip with your effort. The bike is getting closer, you don’t have to look again to know. There’s no way you’re going to outrun it. You have an idea, but it’s going to be risky. You grit your teeth, thinking it over, and decide that the risk is better than definitely getting caught. 

You stop suddenly, just for a second, until the bike is almost to you. Then you turn around, seeing Mando atop it, only a bit away. He didn’t anticipate your stop, and doesn’t register the fact that he needs to slow down until you’re running past him and back toward town. 

You don’t get much of a head start, but luckily the space port is still close enough that it’s not absolutely necessary. As soon as you’re close enough, you dive around a crate to get out of the way of the speeder. Mando arrives right behind you, quick to hop off it and start on foot after you.

You make your way to where you remember the ship you came on had landed. The last time you passed here, you remember seeing the gangplank open. Either they make routine stops, or they’re here for a while. Either way, it means that your escape will be aided by the same ship that helped you the first time. 

By some incredible luck, it’s still there. There’s a group of relatively shady people gathered a few yards away from it, standing under a wing of another ship, but you’re getting used to dealing with shady things at this point. You run past them, not intending to stop until you’re alone without the threat of Mando. 

Without stopping to turn around or even check if there are people in the ship, you run up the plank, slamming your palm over the button to close it behind you. You hear a couple panicked “Hey”s from behind you, which you can only assume is the protests of the guys who own this ship. You run into the cockpit, which is thankfully empty. 

You start to flick switches and pull knobs, everything you can try to get this thing off the ground in the fastest amount of time. If you learned anything on the Crest, it’s how to work a ship’s panel. You hear pangs coming from the closing door, and look out the window to see that half of the group from earlier has run off, and are likely the source of the sound. 

You looked out just in time to see your Mandalorian coming to a stop in front of the other half of the group, who are blocking him from getting further toward you. You huff out a tiny laugh. Take that, asshole. The ship starts to ascend just as Mando throws his first punch. 

****

Once you’re back into space, your heart gets the memo that it can stop working overtime. You decide you’ll just cruise for a bit while you figure out where the best place to go would be—assuming Mando will be occupied with his opponents below for a moment. It needs to be somewhere pretty isolated and unknown for the most part, but also not painfully obvious. 

You consider going back to Jakku for a moment, but scratch that idea quickly. You would for sure be turned in by someone there. And besides, Mando would look there eventually. 

You sigh and lean back in the outdated pilot’s seat, staring at the stars around you. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this view. It’s quiet and peaceful, and it almost makes you forget everything you’re dealing with right now. A lump catches in your throat at that thought. 

You really don’t understand how you’re going to get through this. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life running; that’s no life at all. To be in constant fear of being caught, never being able to settle down, never able to make connections. It genuinely makes you sick to your stomach. 

You lean back and put one hand over your eyes as you try to think about what your next step is. It also needs to be somewhere where you can get more supplies. You need more clothes since all yours have been pretty weathered by the constant rain. You’re also going to need money at some point. 

How are you going to do that? Something tells you that you won’t be able to just snag a job along the way. You sit forward in your seat again, shaking your head. The air con on the ship has kicked on, hitting your drenched body and making your teeth chatter as you pull up the navigation system to browse nearby planets. 

You’re only pressing the first button when the ship suddenly jolts, a crashing sound coming from the back. It scares the shit out of you, your hand clutching tightly to your chest as you spring up out of your seat and look behind you. 

An alarm sounds, frightening you more as you realize that you’ve just been hit. The impact didn’t seem like enough to do a lot of damage, but you have no idea how to work the cannons on this thing—if there are any cannons at all. Judging by the looks of this thing, if it is equipped with a weapons system, it’s likely out of date and of no use to you. 

You speed up and grab the steering to quickly turn to the right, trying to get out from in front of the offending ship. Maybe if you can get behind them and far enough away, you’ll be able to get into hyperspace. It seems that your best bet is going to be running. You’re sensing a bit of a pattern at this point. 

You grit your teeth as the ship tilts slightly with the momentum of your turn. A couple of left over bins in the hull spill over, making you wince at the crashing sounds. There’s suddenly a sweet smell, and you close your eyes briefly as you pray that there wasn’t any spice in those crates. 

It was only for a split second, but when your eyes open, you’re face to face with another small craft. You swerve again to keep out of its way. As you do so, another pops up in your path, and then another, each of them coming out of hyperspace in quick succession. 

Your heartbeat picks up with your panic as you realize you’re surrounded. You can’t see behind you, and there’s no way to go forward. There’s got to be at least five or six of them, and they’re probably carrying between at least four to eight people a piece. They could take you out right now if they wanted. 

Gulping down your anxiety, you do the most rational thing you can think of in the moment, and reluctantly slow down to a gentle drift. As the ships come in closer with your surrender, you think ahead. If they take you onto one of their ships, you might be able to—

Your train of thought is stopped as you get an alert of an incoming transmission on the dash. You breathe out a shaky breath and press the button to accept it. 

A holo-image of an extremely pissed looking Weequay sprouts from the com. You stand tall and put on a brave face. He stares at you, his eyes narrowing. You gulp, hoping it goes unnoticed. There’s a sour taste in your mouth, and a sick feeling in your stomach. You don’t know if you’re getting out of this one. 

To make matters worse, the spice that had spilled with your turn is starting to creep up to the cockpit in a thick fog. The rusty-orange looking powder floats higher with every second, the effects quickly making you dizzy. 

“Okay, girl,” the rugged looking creature drawls with a weird accent you can’t quite place. “I personally was having a good day today, and I think you should know that, first of all.”

You furrow your brow but don’t interrupt. The creature starts to pace slightly as he speaks in a casual tone. 

“Everything was going great, I was making good sales, had deals going for that spice you have in my ship—which I’m sure you’ve discovered at this point. I was just about to have my guys deal with it—and then I got the call that some bitch stole my ship containing the goods. Would you know anything about that, sweetheart?” 

You wince lightly at the insulting pet name, a stark difference from the way Mando used to say it. The dust around you is starting to pick up to the point where your eyes are stinging. You wish you could think of something to say back, but all you can focus on is the bile crawling up your throat. 

“Hm, I think you would,” he stops to say flatly. “Now, my initial plan had been to force you off my ship and maybe take you out to have a little fun! Told my guys they deserve to have a little treat on me after their hard work the last few days. We’d just need you for a little bit, I’m sure these guys don’t have much stamina if you know what I mean…”

The man continues talking, but you’ve frozen in place. Your stomach twists at his threats, and you suddenly feel the need to throw up. The spice growing thicker around you is definitely not helping that factor. 

“...would have been such a good time,” you zone back into the man’s vulgar words. Letting your gaze drift back to him from where it had fallen to the floor. You find yourself wishing for Mando, for the safety you felt as you laid so briefly within his comforting arms. You want to punch yourself for thinking that. 

The pirate, obviously annoyed with your lack of response, continues rambling about this inconvenience, but you can hardly hear him through the ringing growing louder in your ears. The truth that you’re finally trapped is just catching up to you. 

 “Anyways, when I found your bounty poster, I thought just for a second that it must be your lucky day! But then, I figured that whoever wants you probably doesn’t give a shit about what kind of condition you’re in.” 

He laughs at the increasingly panicked look on your face. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart! We won’t go too hard on you now. As long as you cooperate, of course. Just be good for us and we’ll send you to Nevarro without so much as a—”

There’s another crash from behind you, but this time it’s not your ship taking the damage. The man in front of you swivels around, straining to see the source of the sound. His eyes widen, and so do yours when you see the fear in his eyes. You take a step back. 

“What the—” 

The pirate is cut off again as his ship abruptly explodes right in front of you. His holo-image glitches out as you scream, falling back into your seat. Your ship is knocked back slightly at the same time you feel two other crafts quickly flying by you, chasing the shadow of the one you see above you. 

Two ships emerge from either side of you, and your heart skips a beat once you catch a glimpse of the one they’re chasing. You know that ship. Two of the smaller crafts race after the Razor Crest as it trails them away from you. 

That doesn’t mean you’re surrendering to anybody today. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you scramble to push the thrusters, planning to get as far away from here as you can. The two ships that aren’t tailing the Crest suddenly change direction to follow you instead. Shit.

You continue forward at full speed, making quick turns and dodges to throw off the idiots behind you. Unfortunately, it’s not working in your favor. You feel your ship jolt as a blast lands on the surface of it. You hear the sound of something powering down. 

Your craft slows to about half its speed, making you cry out in frustration. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the Crest take out one of the ships that had been pursuing it. Another hit comes to your ship, and this time the hit is so great that you jolt forward and almost hit your head on the dash. 

Another one immediately follows, and this time you do slip out of your chair and smack your head on the edge of the panel. Your vision blacks for a second, and you know it has to be at least a small concussion. A ringing starts back in your ears again as your vision blurs slightly. A big flash blinds you momentarily as—at least you assume—Mando takes out the other craft on his trail in front of your ship. 

For a second, nothing makes sense. There’s another blow to the side of your craft, and then one more, one right after the other. You get rocked back and forth forcefully, only making you more confused. There’s too much going on at once for you to process; time’s moving too slowly and the spice is making you hazy and the alarm’s too loud and there’s another big crash and muffled explosion as another ship is annihilated. 

You scramble, trying to stay up straight as you use your chair to push yourself up. You need to find a way to get out of here before you’re left alone with Mando. Does the hyperspace still work on this thing? Too bad you won’t find out, because as you reach for the dash, you get sent forward and smack your head again. This time, everything goes black.

***** Thank you for reading!! I'm going to try to have another part out in a few weeks!! I'm also making a taglist for this series if anyone would like to join.

[vrisrezis]

omgomgomg would you do satoru, suguru, and shoko taking care of a child. (maybe a random child that they found bc they tend to pick up random children or a bio kid) like have you seen those pov tiktoks like "pov: you got pregnant in collage and now your baby's being raised by college students" or somthing. like i can imagine satosugu teaching (if its a boy) the kid to be a gentlemen and like open the door for auntie shoko! or somthing like that. and if the kid was girl, like keeping her away from the boys "cuz thats what dads do" or smth like that.

INGOOGN TO CRY RN

Tw for child abuse; erm this is a college au but curses and jujutsu sorcerers still exist

- Satoru is the one to find you. At this point in his life, he knows he shouldn’t keep adopting more children. Especially when he’s a teenager. He already has megumi, suguru recently found mimiko and nanako, but the male couldn’t resist. You were littered in bruises and cuts when he found you. You looked no more than three years old. There’s no way he in good conscious could leave you there and not take you for himself. So he crouched down to meet your level, a grin etched his features despite the worry he felt for you. As if he wanted to reassure you.

- he asks you about your parents, and you give him a honest shrug. So he takes you in for now.

- “Satoru…” suguru trails off, seeing yet another child in his arms. However, suguru doesn’t dwell on it, seeing the state you’re in. “Oh jeez…” he trails off, his motherly instincts kicking in as he’s quick to grab shoko to help heal you up.

- even shoko, would show great worry towards you.

- and from then on, you were stuck to those three like glue. Nothing would separate you four. They were stuck with you, you were stuck with them.

- satoru would eventually figure out that your parents were dangerous curse users that seemed to have put you in that weak state, so him and suguru personally went out to see them :)

Now, the parental experience:

- naturally, satoru and suguru have a very different way of raising a child. Suguru raises you to be a upstanding citizen while satoru raises you to be a menace to society. As a result, you will be a very confused little lad for a long time.

- satoru is a clingy dad, spending as much time with you as possible. However, satoru keeps you away from curses energy/curses talk all together. He wants you to experience being a child, since he never really got to.

- satoru introduces you to sweets really quickly (duh), and is a terrible influence cause he is constantly giving you junk food and therefor teaching you bad eating habits

- he also just spoils the hell out of you, so when it comes to you he can never say no to you, so you need to be taught by the others you won’t always get what you want

- satoru teaches you how to be confident, if you’re ever unsure about something he builds you up! But honestly with how much he does and with how over the top he is about it, you’ll probably end up with an ego like his

- satoru also doesn’t see a reason for you to respect your elders and this includes himself, suguru, and shoko. Respect them because they’re good to you, not because they’re authority figures or older than you.

- dresses you up :} you are not going out looking like shit, ever! He is such a diva and therefor you will be too. It’s just the order of things.

- suguru is a loving father as well, but not nearly as clingy as suguru. He lets you have your space, as he knows he needs his every once in awhile.

- suguru had a habit of spoiling you, but he does know he needs to discipline you (unlike satoru) if you do something bad. He’s the stricter of the two but even then he is not very strict.

- suguru tries to teach you good eating habits, good etiquette, and overall being a polite person that does things for others.

- while suguru believes confidence is a good thing for you to have, and he certainly uplifts you when you feel insecure, satoru is way more dramatic about it.

- sugurus “of course your big and strong, cute too.” vs satorus “you’re a god compared to them, don’t let those dirty rags get to you.”

- suguru ofc wants you to respect your elders too so he’s actually very strict about this. He will not budge on it, satoru shut up.

- suguru helps you with hygiene a lot since you’re still very little and your old family didn’t really teach you. He helps with ur hair and brushing ur teeth and showering heehee

- also can I say they are both so supportive of uuu

- like , your four years old , you are a little boy , you want to cosplay peach ? Zelda ? No problem they’re both so supportive of it

- no makeup tho ur too young

- born a girl ? Wanna wear boyish clothes? Totally fine they also don’t care

- either way tho satoru plays Barbie with u

- so does suguru but satoru plays more bc he is a #barbiegirl

- suguru is more into bratz tbh

- ofc they’re supportive of longer hair and other things too ! :D they love u

- satoru does encourage violence but only when it’s necessary ok . Fight back . Don’t start fights tho. (Secretly tho he’s telling u to start fights, it would be funny)

- suguru yells at him everytime tho

- satoru tends to be affectionate through gift giving, as he’s very bad with expressing his love through his words. Suguru is the opposite. While of course he likes to buy you things he doesn’t nearly as much as satoru, sugurus love often expressed through his vocal cords.

- aunt shoko is a fun aunt can I just say?

- your parents are so protective even if they are chill, so having your even chiller aunt shoko around is amazing

- you can talk to her about anything cuz she won’t rat you out to your dads, she won’t get mad at you, she’s just so understanding

- plus it always helps she has banger advice.

- she also knows how to take care of you a lot better when you’re a lot younger, like satosugu don’t know what they’re doing at first lmao

- shoko helping you with any boo boo’s :,(

- satoru has a habit of buying you two matching clothes so to piss him off shoko buys you clothes to match with her and he’s like >:(

- shoko NEVER smokes around you, in fact you probably don’t even know she does it

- she likes doing your hair

- when you get old enough though she is gonna be the reason you smoke your first blunt just sayin

- she kinda just starts being mama shoko instead of aunt shoko but … u didn’t hear that from me

- she helps you learn a lot of school shit since obviously given the financial situation, satosugu can’t take you into school right away, but shoko is there to help you learn for the time being :)

- doesn’t matter if your a boy she’s giving you a little pink bow to wear

- she likes just being a cool aunt ok

- anyways these 3 r soo good to u they will kill anyone that hurts u

[strwberri-milk]

Sweet Dreams

Kaeya x AFAB!Reader || Smut || 3 878 words

additional tags: wet dreams, pussydrunk kaeya, bottom kaeya, oral (giving + receiving), face sitting, overstim, multiple orgasms, dry humping

When Kaeya wakes up just desperate for your attention there's no way you can say no to him.

a/n: not bottom kaeya having its own tag on ao3 [skull] also take this smut fic where you get to love and adore kaeya bc kaeya's birthday fic is very depressing and sad or at least i wanted it to be but its also still smut so yea &lt;3

A slight noise hits your ears, barely perceptible to your sleep-addled brain and you have half a mind to ignore it but when there’s a foreign weight on your body you will yourself to wake up a little more. Looking down, you see your beloved sprawled across your body, arms throwing around your shoulders haphazardly as are his legs, one hiked around your waist to keep you in place. Kaeya’s always been a touchy sleeper, desperate to feel your body on his because it was the only way he could ensure you were alive and here with him so it’s not like waking up in this way was an oddity to you. No, it was something else. 

Somewhere in the recesses of Kaeya’s own mind was the image of you desperately keening against him, wanting nothing more than his cock mindlessly rutting against you to the point where you both feel dumb. He melts into you time and time again, body subconsciously acting out his desire against your hip. 

Against your body you feel him, dick hard and rutting against you sloppily. You’re not even sure if that’s actually what you feel until you reach down. Almost immediately you hear him gasp slightly when your fingers run across his tip, bucking a little harder into your touch.

“Mmn,” you hear a little clearer, letting his arms hold onto you tighter as his brows knit together in the slightest. 

The pretty little sound he makes just pushes you to draw more out of him, pulling your hand back and beginning to shuffle out of his grasp when you see his eyes open. They blink at you blearily and you’re thankful once again that he feels comfortable enough to take his eyepatch off around you.

Without a single thought behind those pretty eyes, Kaeya immediately goes to press messy kisses against your neck, whatever he saw in his dream clearly affecting his actions still. It doesn’t take much for you to adjust your body for him as he crawls over you, continuing to kiss up your neck and jaw. 

“What time is it?’ he mutters, losing his train of thought when you slide your thigh between his legs. 

“Why does it matter? I think you have more important things on your mind right now, don’t you?” you respond. 

You rub your thigh against him, smirking as he starts to rut against you at the feeling. His eyes close in pleasure, another low groan leaving his lips as his pace picks up. To help him out just a bit, you reach for his cock again, teasing his tip through the fabric while his hips find their rhythm. 

“I have to go to work,” he whines, bowing more into your body at a particularly rough movement of your thigh. 

“But if you’re all pent up like this you won’t be able to go anywhere by the time morning rolls around so let me help you out, alright?” you coo lovingly, cupping his face in your hands and kissing him sensually as he continues to use your body for his own pleasure. 

When he pulls back you lightly push against his shoulders, trailing your hands down his body as he sits up. It lets you watch him get more and more desperate for your touch, biting his lip as he brings his hands back to your knee and brings his hips forward. His cock presses against the seam of his boxers, jutting towards you with each upward thrust.

You bring your hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling him towards you as you push it up and put the fabric between his teeth and lips. You don’t need light to know the sensitive peaks are hardening with the cold air, desperate for your attention. Obeying their plea, both your hands go to pinch and tease at his skin, the loud keen Kaeya makes in response to the action driving you to do more. Your mouth comes up to gently lave over one of his pecs, pulling him down into your lap to keep him at your mercy. 

His reaction is immediate. As soon as your breath hits his chest Kaeya’s body stiffens up, fingers tangling into your shirt as his head lolls against your shoulder at the gentle suction around his nipple. He adjusts himself to straddle your waist so he can continue to grind against you, the delicious friction of your clothes and your teeth nipping at him making him even needier than usual. 

“Please,” Kaeya whines, wanting to touch you more if only his brain were clearer.. “Stop teasing me – ah – I need you.”

“But you sound so pretty when you beg,” you tease, throwing back one of his favourite lines back at him. 

“Plus, I know you’re so sensitive here. Just let me take care of you sweetheart.” 

Kaeya nods, letting you slip your hand under his waistband and hissing gratefully once your cooler hand meets the heated skin of his dick. Needily, the pace of his hips picks up significantly in comparison to before. Precum has begun to lightly stain your hand, you now using it as lubrication as you pump up and down his length. 

“Thank you, thank you,” he whimpers. 

The combined sensation of your hand and mouth on his body has him so close to cumming but he wills himself not to, breaths getting heavier with each passing moment.  His efforts don’t go unnoticed and you pull back slightly to watch his face, pressing a kiss to his lips when you see his expression. 

“What’s wrong baby?” you say sweetly. “Didn’t you wanna cum?” He shakes his head in response, bringing a hand to your shoulder to try and push you back. 

“Not like this. I wanna make you feel good too.” 

Normally, you let Kaeya take the reigns, knowing that he’d stop at nothing to make sure you both ended the endeavor satisfied and there was nothing wrong with that. However, you definitely prided yourself in being one of the few people who could bring about this softer, clingier side of him. It brought a light of pride in your chest to see someone so suave and debonair down on his knees with adoration for you and you didn’t want him to go unappreciated. 

“Don’t worry; just lay back. I told you I’d take care of you. You trust me, don’t you?” 

It takes a moment to process your words, the heat of lust never quite able to die down with your regular strokes. Soon enough, he nods and lets you guide him onto his back, sitting up on his forearms to watch what you plan to do. You pull off his boxers, thanking him with a kiss to his thigh when he moves to help you remove them. But, the kiss was not where you planned to stop. 

After a moment, you kiss up his thighs, biting lightly at places you know drive him crazy. You know he likes it when you watch his cock throb with excitement, practically getting harder as you move further up his body. When you get back up to his cock you begin to press kisses along his length, focusing especially on the prominent vein. It makes his thighs tense, knees coming dangerously close to closing around your head. Not deterring you in the slightest, you continue lavishing him in attention, ending by running your tongue over his slit slowly. This makes his thighs close over you, falling back onto the bed with a shudder. 

“Fuck,” he moans, bucking up into your mouth once you take his tip in, eyes rolling back into his head. 

“That feels so good,” he praises, the drowsiness from waking up that still hadn’t left his body just yet making the foggy pleasure just that much better. 

“I know,” you hum, going back to jerk off the rest of his cock as your mouth focuses on his sensitive head. 

His breathing picks up, another low groan leaving his chest when you sink down further on his shaft, wanting nothing more than to push you down all the way so he could fuck your mouth the way he’s growing desperate to with each descent you make. The sounds of your throat taking him in mixed with the feeling of reaching the back of your throat eggs him on, hands tangling into your hair as you slowly let him set the pace. He moves you up and down, hips following suit to maximise the feelings in his gut. 

Soon enough, he’s fucking your mouth with long, deep strokes, taking his time as you swallow around him. Kaeya can feel the constriction of your throat, speeding up as more and more praises tumble out of his mouth. It doesn’t take him long to work himself back up to his arousal from before, feeling ready to cum down your throat. 

“I’m gonna cum in your mouth - can I?” he asks in a thin voice, already so close to his end. 

It takes him aback to feel your hands pin his hips down, pulling off him with a lewd pop. He wishes there were lights on so he could see your drool spilling out of the corner of your mouth from taking him, unable to miss the image as soon as it came into his mind as you sink back down. 

You’re still holding his hips down, not letting him have any control over the pace but it serves to drive him even quicker to the edge as you bob up and down at your pleasure. The inconsistencies and sudden stops just to lick all over him makes him whimper and gasp, strong body still able to resist your grip some but not enough when you use more of your weight to keep him where you want him. 

“If you’re so desperate to cum, cum then,” you say after a bit, the rawness of your voice from taking him over and over again pushing him over as he cums deeply down your throat with a desperate call of your name, gasping for breath. 

You let him have the moment, suckling on his cockhead to draw out his orgasm and watch him come down from the intense feelings. His arm comes up to cover his eyes, still catching his breath when a distinct dampness reminds you of its presence as your hips shift to move around a little. He swats you from his softening cock as the sweat of overstimulation hits him, eyeing you curiously when he realises how quiet you got. 

“Do you want something?” His voice is a little raspy, the sound sending another bolt of pleasure through your body. 

“You didn’t think only you would be able to have the fun here, right?” you tease, testing the waters as you remove your bottoms this time. 

He doesn’t notice, at least not until you bring his hands to your waist, then further down and down, turning his palms so he knows he’s reached the insides of your thighs. His eyes glow faintly under you, widening as he realises there’s no longer any obstruction to the heat he so desperately craves. 

Without a second thought, he pulls you up his body. You fear you’ll fall with his enthusiasm, going along with it and bracing yourself against your pillows as your hips are dragged up to his hungry lips. 

“You don’t mind if I have mine now, right?” 

His fingers trail up and down your slit, biting his lip at how wet you are. He’s barely able to touch you when he can already feel your slick against the tips of his fingers, wanting to smother his face between your legs but deciding to give you some sort of warm up first. 

In the way that only he can, his fingers begin to circle your clit perfectly, turning to rest his thumb against it as he sinks a finger into your hole. The intrusion is welcome, your breathless gasp encouraging him to add a second finger soon after the first. Your heat envelops them both and he feels his cock stirring in interest at the feeling, wanting to replace the digits. He can’t help but grow even more desperate with each passing moment, wanting nothing more than to feel that tight heat squeeze around his muscle but holds that thought for now, focusing wholly on your pleasure. 

It’s easy for him to go back to focusing on your body, practically trained to watch your every reaction, figure out what you need more or less of. His fingers thrust at a steady pace, free hand going to rest against your hip as he not so subtly pulls you down closer and closer to his face. The hesitation is clear on your face, unsure if you should do as he’s asking but he doesn’t give you the chance to back out. You crumple as soon as his breath fans against your soaked cunt, biting back your pleasured gasp of his name. 

“Just let me treat you, right? That’s what you’ve been wanting to do for me.” The slight bite of his teasing tone is back, you more than happy to let him have his moment if it means he’ll finally put that silver tongue of his to good use. 

“Just fucking do it already,” you bite back, threading your fingers through his hair to keep him in place. 

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles breathily. 

Broad strokes replace his fingers temporarily, at first unfocused as you feel him just lapping at your wetness. You don’t mind it in the least, enjoying the way it slowly stokes at the flames of your arousal. It gives you enough sentience to keep your eyes on your beloved, the sight of his eyes looking up into yours so affectionately as he begins to press kisses against your pussy reminding you just how in love the two of you are. A part of you wants to vocalise the thought, ready to speak it into existence when he begins to suck on your clit, clearly done making out with your cunt. 

His lips wrap around the sensitive bud, desperate to keep it between teasing lips and teeth, light nips making you buck into his face as his attention stays on your clit. He knows it drives you crazy, the sounds of your laboured breathing painting the air now being paired against the wet sound of his fingers reentering your hole. There’s no distinct pace he’s trying to keep but all you can register is that it feels good. He knows exactly where and how to fuck your needy little pussy, always throbbing and desperate for him. 

“Fuck,” you let yourself gasp at a particularly rough thrust of his fingers. 

“You’re so good at this - Kaeya - it feels so good.”

The praise goes right to his cock as he bucks into the air unconsciously, wanting to hear more of your pretty noises. His tongue sinks lower, teasing around your hole and his fingers and before you can complain that you want him back on your clit you feel him sneak the sly muscle between his fingers that keep your lower lips parted, steadily fucking you with his tongue instead. This makes you lose your composure, beginning to hump lightly against his face for more of that delicious friction your body is craving. He lets you, fingers digging into your hips as he pushes you harder to get you closer to his face and you get the sense he wants to suffocate between your thighs. 

Your thighs are shiny with slick and sweat, so desperate to cum with each stroke of his tongue but it’s just not enough for you to ride his face like this. He’s practically drunk on your taste, eyes closed to fully savour you on him and you pull his hair to bring his attention back to you, whimpering pitifully at the feeling of his roots being tugged. 

“Make me cum like a good boy and you’ll get a nice reward, alright?” you promise, not expecting him to act as fast as he does. 

As soon as the words leave your lips both his hands come to grab your hips, fully forcing your weight onto his face as he eats you out like a man starved. One of his hands stays on your body, groping your ass as the other replaces his tongue, fucking you with just as much fervour as he sucks and tugs on your clit like it’s the sweetest piece of candy he’s ever had. He ruts the little bud against the flat surface of his tongue before sucking harshly on it, alternating between the two so quickly you never get the chance to get used to the sensation before switching to the other. It doesn’t take you much to cum as you hear the wet and lewd noises he’s drawing from your taut body, thighs squeezing around his head as you cum all over him with a call of his name. 

Your reaction isn’t enough for him and he easily pushes you off him and presses you down into the sheets. You’re about to ask him what he wants for his reward, more than satisfied when he throws a leg over his shoulder and dives back into your pussy, slurping noises even lewder with the gush of an orgasm that hasn’t yet been able to dissipate. The pillows hit your head as you dig yourself further into the plush fabrics in overstimulation, unable to pull Kaeya off you as he continues to drag out your orgasm. 

“I want you to feel even better,” he mutters to himself, holding your clit tight between his fingers and lapping at it nonstop. It brings you to crest another orgasm quickly, squirming in his hold as you pant for breath from the sensation. 

“Kaeya,” you moan, hips rutting into the air desperately as he brings you closer and closer to your peak.

“Now it’s my turn, right?” 

You nod, more focused on the tight coil of pleasure his tongue and fingers are bringing you. Choking on your breath, you sit up on your forearms just in time to watch him shove his cock into you all in one go, screaming his name as your walls convulse tightly around him just as you cum from his fingers circling your clit, making him respond in kind. 

Your walls squeeze tightly around his from your orgasm, unable to relax as he fucks you through the intense wave of pleasure that washes over you. He ignores the wetness that coats his abdomen that comes from your body and leans over to pin your wrists to the bed. All you can do is lay back and take it right now, more than happy to as you feel his balls slap against your ass with the ferocity of which he’s fucking you with. 

Adjusting to an angle that makes him fuck you hard and deep, Kaeya’s mind is far too gone to take the lead in this situation as he focuses solely on the heavenly way your warmth wraps around his desperate cock. There’s no consistency in his thrusts, just the primal urge to keep fucking into you like some sort of doll, obsessed with the way your hole tightens as he aims for spots he knows you need him to brutalise his cockhead against. His head drops to your chest after pulling down the collar of your shirt to lick and bite at your bouncing tits, letting your legs wrap around his waist as you moan loudly. 

“Oh yes fuck just like that Kaeya - ah - fuck! - just keep fucking me like that,” you keen, knowing that the praise was going to keep him exactly where you wanted him. 

“You feel so good wrapped around me,” he pants in response, moving up to press desperate kisses against your neck and jaw. 

“I want to fill you up so bad - I can’t think about anything else-” 

Kaeya cuts off his own words as a grind of his hips against your clit makes you squeeze his dick especially tight, breathily moaning right against your ear. It makes you gush around him, pulling him in for a rough, desperate kiss. He can barely focus on the way your lips and tongue move against his, lost fully in sensation and moving only by sheer instinct at this rate. 

“If you keep moving like that I’m gonna squirt all over you,” you warn, feeling your impending orgasm creeping up your body as your hands fist the fabric of his shirt. 

“You fucking better,” he pants, a smile creeping on his lips as he gains some semblance of coherent thoughts. 

“I’m fucking the shit out of your tight little pussy I deserve some sort of reward.” 

His words make you laugh just a bit, devolving into another rough moan when he decides to keep drilling his cock into that spot that makes you see stars. You’re convinced you’ll rip his shirt as he fucks you to orgasm, squirting all over him like you threatened which only makes him move faster when he hears the wet slap of his heavy balls against your spasming pussy. 

“Feels good, huh baby?” he whines, losing his mind again when you lock his hips in place just in time for him to fill you up. 

You can feel his cum spurting out of him, overflowing out of your pussy to drip down your ass, body going slack as you try to catch your breath. Once you let him go, Kaeya starts to rock slowly into your body with a pleased groan, burying his face into your neck while working off the rest of his orgasm. 

“Must have if you’re crying,” Kaeya teases. 

“Hmm? Whaddya mean?” 

Now that you’re given the chance to recover, your brain becomes mush from the onslaught of pleasure, not even noticing that your face is wet. His fingers wipe away your tears lovingly, wakefulness now in his eyes as he peers down at you. He doesn’t move to pull out of you and you don’t think you really mind, pulling him back down to hold him. 

“Shut up,” you retort, closing your eyes to breathe in the scent of your lover. 

“I already squirted for you don’t push your luck.” 

The statement makes him laugh, carefully adjusting you to rest atop his chest .

“Then would I be asking too much if I wanted to stay inside you just a little bit more? It’s so cold.” For extra emphasis he shivers, playfully swatting your ass to make you jolt. 

“You’re warm so I don’t mind.” 

Your words end with a yawn and just out of sight Kaeya’s gaze softens as he looks down at you making yourself comfortable on him. His hand rests on your back, resting it on your hip. 

“Sweet dreams, alright?” he says softly, knowing you’re just about to drift off by the way your eyes barely stay open. 

The only response he gets is a slight nod as you quickly fall asleep in his arms. He’s much more awake now than he was before but he can’t mind it at all if it means it gives him the chance to hold you close to him like this. 

[order-of-river-phoenix]

since we're in the sending requests business, can i request some brad colbert enemies to lovers oneshot? some slowburn romance where even though they "hate" each other, there's always this tension👀 between them? totally okay if u don't feel writing this, love you and your writing!! ♡♡

Inevitably; Brad Colbert

Fandom: HBO War; Generation Kill

A/N: heyyyyy this is me being back from the dead kinda. this was a special request bc even tho I’m not officially opening requests 1) i love you and 2) i always need more Gen Kill content in my life, even if it’s my own. i hope it’s slow burn enough for you :) also i hate the end but i suck at endings so… yeah

Warning(s): some language ig; a lot of idiocy

no taglist anymore, whoever sees it, sees it.

__________

"I believe I gave you an order," Colbert seethed.

"And I believe that we are the same rank, and therefore you don't give me orders like I'm some boot you can pawn shit on."

"Well, Sergeant, it needs done, so I'm ord- asking you to do this."

You took a breath to keep from saying whatever was bound to fly out of your mouth. "Consider it done, Sergeant Colbert."

Corporal Person leaned into Colbert’s side and whispered, “I did that an hour ago.”

Brad closed his eyes in a resigned sigh. “Ray…”

“I won’t say thing if you don’t.”

“They’ll find out anyway and be more mad than before, you dumbass.”

Ray shrugged. “I don’t feel like getting my head chewed off. Out of the two of you, I like you angry more.”

“Looks like we’ll all be dealing with their attitude the rest of the night then,” Brad muttered, getting back to his original task. “Ray, we’d all appreciate it if you did the right thing.”

“Fuck the right thing,” Ray exclaimed. “You’re the one who told me to do it.” With that, he walked away, likely because he wasn’t willing to get into more trouble with anyone.

__________

“Brad? I can’t stand him. He’s damn good at what he does, but…” you trailed off, finding your wording carefully, as you remembered it was the reporter you were talking to. “He and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.”

“Is that your only comment on Sergeant Colbert?” Wright prodded.

“I can’t imagine the Marines without him at this point, I guess,” you finally added. “We enlisted around the same time. He’s always just… been there.”

__________

"Yo, you think they're gonna-" Garza started, finding it hard to peel his eyes away from the heated scene in front of him.

"Fuck? Yeah, probably," Ray cut in, nodding his head. He wasn’t even looking anymore. The sounds of the two sergeants yelling at each other had become white noise to Ray, who had exactly zero problems with drowning them out with his personality.

“Really?” Gabe asked, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah, Garza. It’s like finding out your parents fuck. It’s kinda gross to think about, but it’s an obvious fact of life.” Ray gestured to the two of you, still huffing and puffing 10 feet away. “Brad and Y/N will inevitably-“

“Person, I swear to god, if I hear my name come out of your mouth again, I will find a way to demote you,” you shouted.

“And if they don’t find a way to,” Brad chimed in, “I will.”

“You getting this, Writer?” Ray exclaimed. “My superiors would rather punish me for speaking the truth than just f-“

“PERSON!” you and Brad synchronized.

While there were a host of things you and Brad disagreed on, the one thing you two could always count on agreeing about was Ray. Which is exactly what was scribbled somewhere in the reporter’s notes.

He gestured to Ray something that suggested he wanted more on that theory when they were out of earshot.

You and Brad had started the day relatively on good terms. Sure, always a layer of hostility, but nothing serious. But as always, something little turned into something (supposedly) worth screaming over.

Lt. Fick simply asked who had a map, as he allowed Encino Man to look at his and somehow hadn’t managed to get it back. Neither of you had your own map, per se, but knew where one was. Unfortunately for everyone else, you two had different places in mind and argued about who was right until it was made clear neither of you had it right in the first place.

__________

“What do I think about Sergeant L/N?” Brad repeated. “Well…. professionally, I think they’re a true asset to as a reconnaissance Marine. They have the trust of every Marine out here, and they’ve earned it.”

“And any thoughts personally?” Wright knew better but was willing to risk a little for whatever answer he could get. If not for himself, then for Ray, who had literally begged him for this.

“Personally?” Brad shifted uncomfortably, and he was starting to wonder why he’d agreed to this one-on-one interview. “I suppose, on a personal level, L/N irrationally irritates me in a way that I am not sure anyone ever has before.”

__________

You were now practically chest to chest, silent except for hot-tempered breathing. Words failed you for the first time in this argument. Whatever it was that you had been so incensed about was starting to fade as you realized how close you were to Brad.

His blue eyes you had always read as icy now seemed to have a fire behind them that only appeared in moments like this. “Y/N…”

It came out hoarse, like he’d originally intended to yell again but caught it before it escaped.

“I-“

“Hey, Colbert? L/N?” Walt’s innocent face appeared around the vehicle you two were practically hiding behind to fight. “Oh, uh, sorry. Was I interrupting?”

You released a breath while taking a half-step back. “No, Hasser. We were just…. It’s not important.” Glancing back towards Brad, you notice he is still staring at you. “What is it?”

Except, there’s no fire and anger in his face now. It’s scrutiny. It’s curiosity, possibly. Almost as if he’s facing a foreign object, which you had seen him do near 1000 times before.

“Ooh okay. Lt wants you ASAP. He didn’t say what it was.” With that Walt looked between the two of you, as if trying to figure out what sort of argument you have gotten into this time around.

“We’ll be right there,” Brad answers, now looking at Walt.

“Listen,” Nate spoke softly, yet there was a firmness that let you know you were most likely in trouble. “I’m tired of hearing that you two can’t get along. Whatever it is, squash it. It’s bad for morale when two team leaders, two NCO’s no less, can’t agree on stupid stuff. Reign it in. I trust both of you, and I need to be able to say with confidence that you two are taking your jobs here seriously. Do you understand?”

You both nodded and synchronized a “Yessir.”

“Thank you.”

Walking away, you felt a bit ashamed, like you did most of the time when you walked away from a fight with Brad. You weren’t sure why you had this part of you that felt the need to argue with him over every little thing. You trusted him with your life, so why couldn’t you just shut up? It wasn’t like he got much cuter when his face turns all red. But there was something about how easily you could get such a level-headed man so angry.

You were suddenly all too aware that the two of you were still walking side by side. Glancing over, you note that the tips of his ears are still flushed. “Brad?”

“Yes, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “for being an asshole.”

“If you weren’t an asshole, you wouldn’t be a Marine.” He shot you something reminiscent of a smile, and you both continued to your own areas in the sleeping quarters.

__________

“What the fuck?” you scanned the next paragraph before looking up at Brad. “I cannot believe that dickwad reporter.”

“What did he say?”

“And I quote, ‘Hidden behind screaming matches and petty arguments was a love so fiery and passionate, many of the other recon Marines took bets on the inevitable coming together of two NCO’s.’” You slammed the magazine down. “Can you believe that? They bet on us fucking? He even wrote that he wagered in.”

“Dear-“

“Don’t tell me you bet too,” you nearly fell out of your chair.

“Now, that wouldn’t exactly be fair, would it?” He leaned over the counter to plant a kiss on your forehead. “I’d have made sure I won.”

“You’ve won either way. You got me.”

“That I did. I am the real winner here.”

“I still can’t believe that asshole embedded with us had all that combat and active war experience to write about, and he still found a way to blast our sexual tension somewhere in the middle.”

He slid the magazine towards himself to skim. “He used to write for Hustler; he probably just missed the content.”

“Missed the content? Missed the content?” you were on the verge of something loud and angry.

“If you’re about to yell at me, remember I did not write this,” Brad gave you a gentle smile. “Besides, if you really want to yell, his phone number is around here somewhere. Argue with him about it.”

“Oh, but it’s so much more fun arguing with you,” you pouted.

[chxrrylime]

uhm.. so.. i was watching burlesque and had a thought 🌝

listen listen, price w a m!reader who’s kind of his boyfriend but kind of not? like a situationship sort of, whenever price is off duty he goes to reader’s club to watch him dance (lingerie included if you’re comfortable) and they always fuck after, but price is starting to develop feelings, he doesn’t say anything bc he thinks reader won’t share the same feelings little does he know reader actually does, so maybe some smut (bottom reader) and some feelings talk fluff ?? 🧎🏽 much thanks 🫶🏽🫶🏽

As someone who's accidentally said I love you during foreplay it's easier than you think. Also, this is the fit I had in mind when writing this (x) (x).

Price x M!Reader ↪ 1863 words — 18+ / SMUT.

Content tags — cis male submissive (burlesque dancer) reader, cis male dominant Price, referenced/implied prostitution, unsafe sex, minor angst, possessive behavior, love confessions, lingerie, burlesque/brothels, penetrative sex, anal sex, and analingus.

Price weaves through the crowd of sweaty and drunken bodies, eyes trailing after you as you leave the stage. Only when you return to that inky blackness behind the curtain does he train his gaze elsewhere, toward the red-lit hall you’ve led him down the last few times. 

The two of you have done this enough times that it’s almost muscle memory at this point, he doesn’t even have to count the doors anymore to find yours, raising a fist to knock.

The first time he’d ever wandered in here, looking for a drink in more ways than one, he was immediately enraptured by your figure moving about the stage, hips swinging so tantalizingly—watching how easily you moved to the music, the cute little lingerie sets you wore each time accentuating every pretty curve and crevice. 

Price was a simple man, and so he usually preferred the simplicity of a strip club to burlesque shows, but the way you performed had him hooked. None of the other dancers could compare to you, and to Price it was no wonder why you were one of the very few that had their own dressing room.

You open the door and Price drinks you in, a short little silk robe wrapped around your frame. He can see the dark red of your stockings and knows you’re still in the little thong and garter belt you had on stage, the thin black harness hugging your chest.

“John,” you breathe, face lighting up. Price doesn’t want to admit the flutter in his heart each time he comes back from work, sometimes months later, and you still remember his name. He thanks his lucky stars it’s one of the most common ones in the world.

“Invite me in?” He asks.

“Vampire,” you laugh, stepping back to allow him entry. He moves into the room and you close the door behind him, locking it. He looks over your vanity, examining the makeup and jewelry scattered about.

You let your robe slide off and move toward him, placing a gentle hand on his arm as you slip between the table and his solid, warm body. His large hands immediately move to your waist, squeezing you.

“Christ,” he murmurs, taking you in again, like he can never get enough.

“Always the first time with you,” you say softly, teasing, “didn’t you see me on stage?”

“It’s so much more stunning this close, love,” the pet name slips out unbidden, and you blush, your own hands trailing up his sides to his chest, massaging at his pecs and earning a soft little grunt before you continue your journey upward to wrap your arms around his neck. 

He’s the first to lean in, pressing his lips to yours. You hum, immediately trying to deepen the kiss, but he doesn’t budge, kissing you slow and sweet. Indulging himself. His brain always gets so fuzzy when he’s with you—always feels so good just touching you. 

You move your head to kiss the corner of his mouth, and his cheek, his jaw, and he tries to chase your lips, making an annoyed little noise that has you smiling.

He moves instead to kiss at your neck, nuzzling against the soft skin there.

“Getting sweet on me, John?” You joke, and Price tenses. Your brow furrows and you move your hands to his arms, rubbing up and down, “hey, hey, I’m just kidding.”

“Funny,” he responds flatly, gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger before pulling you into a rough kiss, tonguing into your mouth and making you moan wantonly. When he pulls back there's a string of saliva connecting your lips that snaps as he talks, “this what you want?”

His free hand grips your bulge hard through the soft fabric and you yelp, melting into a moan as he squeezes and gropes at you. You hold his offending arm, using him for leverage to rock into his touch. He watches you with intense eyes.

But something is off, his movements jilted, shoulders drawn up tight like he’s holding himself back from something. You pull his arm off of you and the slightest hint of worry crosses his features.

“You’re upset,” you say softly, running your fingers through his short hair. 

“It’s fine,” he grunts, though his eyes flutter shut, leaning into your gentle touch, “I’m fine,” he repeats, like he’s trying to convince more than you.

“You can talk to me.”

“That’s not what this is,” he says darkly, like a sad admittance. 

“It's whatever you want it to be.”

“S’long as I pay enough, right?” he tries to joke, though it falls flat, smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“I’ve never charged you…” your brow furrows, cupping his cheek. His blue eyes seem a little glassy—faded, and they squeeze shut as he speaks.

“You charge the others,” he grumbles, “I know there’s others.”

He’s jealous, you realize. And then, more suddenly, this… thing, between you two. It means more to him than you had thought. You’d considered yourself a passing fancy to him—a warm and wet hole ready and waiting for him whenever he was on leave. 

“Why do you think that is, John? That I charge the others, and not you?” You try, wanting to say what you feel without words.

“Got a great cock, maybe,” he jokes again, and you can’t help the little chuckle that escapes past your lips.

“Okay, yes, you do. But of course that isn’t why—I mean, fuck, John, there’s so many rules I let you break.”

Price looks at you carefully, like he’s searching for the lie—waiting for the punchline to come where he’s the butt of the joke. Why would you care for someone like him? Some older man bound to the military life that only comes around every few months, if that. You deserve so much more from a lover. A partner.

“I like you,” you finally breathe out, that small weight hovering above your chest now.

“More than you should,” Price says, kissing you. 

He’s gentle again, though now with an insistence, one hand tugging at your harness to arch your back, your chest puffed up against his broad torso. 

You don’t need him to admit anything—you know him. Over the year or so you’ve known him, you’ve learned despite how much he can talk, he’s not a man of emotional words. Things like affection are spoken through action—the steady press of his thigh between your legs, the calloused hand thumbing at your perked nipple.

He speaks through action, and pleasure. Your pleasure. 

He hitches his hands under your thighs, hauling you up onto the counter. You gasp at the show of strength, squeezing his shoulders as he lowers to his knees with a grunt, mouthing wetly at your bulge before trailing down, tugging aside the thong—always so obsessed with keeping them on—to lap at your hole.

You cry out, feeling the thick muscle slip into you, licking hungrily at your insides. Price moans against you, moans like he’s the one feeling it, and the vibrations make you shudder, grabbing a fistful of his hair to rock down onto his mouth, trying to take him deeper.

He stretches you open on his tongue so skillfully, his beard scraping so deliciously against your inner thighs. You can’t help but watch as his own hips rock lazily into the air, mindlessly humping like a mutt. It makes your cock spur, what you do to him.

“John,” you moan, tugging at his hair, “fuck me, please.”

He growls against you, eyes rolling back ever so slightly as he trails back up your body. He pushes you to lay down as much as you can on the cramped surface, sucking and nibbling at your nipples as he fumbles with his jeans, pulling his cock free with a relieved groan. 

He straightens to slap his heavy prick against your thighs a few times, stroking himself. The tip is flushed and sticky from precum, the clear fluid dribbling out and down his shaft, slicking the way for his fist. 

He lines himself up with your hole, rubbing the spongy head against you as he leans in, forehead pressed to yours.

“Tell me the rules,” he says, voice low and gravelly. Your head is spinning, so close to being filled and yet he won’t move, freehand firm on your hip to pin you in place.

“W-what?” You stutter out, blinking blearily at him.

“The rules you have. For your clients,” he growls out the last word, that jealousy flaring in him again. It makes you moan, and he moves to suck bruising marks against your throat.

“I–I,” you choke, swallowing, “condoms. Always.”

He bites down on your neck and slides into you, making you cry out as you stretch to accommodate his girth, the wet heat of your insides so snug around his cock as your walls ripple and flex around him.

“What else?” He whispers, hips beginning a slow but steady pace, ever so slowly increasing in speed as he picks up momentum. He captures your lips with his own before you can speak, licking into your mouth and biting down on your lower lip before pulling away to let you talk.

“No kissing,” you breathe, a dazed smile spreading across your face. He smiles back, kissing you again, hungry and ever so insatiable. 

You push at his chest, urging him to lean back so you can tug at the hem of his shirt. He quickly shucks it off, wrapping his strong arms around you to pull you flush to his body.

His hips start to move faster and with more force, balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, cock ramming into you and making you see stars, punching little ‘ah, ah, ah’s out of you with each movement. 

He trails his lips up your neck, breathing in your scent, taking in everything he can through every sense he has, trying to burn it into his memory like he hasn’t vividly relived everyone of these nights any chance he can get with a hand fisting his cock.

“I love you,” he gushes, the words out of his mouth before he can think, and he keeps saying it, over and over like a prayer, squeezing you so tight against him as he pants against your heated skin.

“Fuck, oh fuck, John m’gonna—” you cry out, back arching, baring down on him as your cock swells and kicks within your thong, cum spurting against the tight fabric. 

Price groans at the vice grip around his dick, having to slow his movements in fear of tearing you with how tight you're clenching down around him. The spasm of your walls milk him, squeezing at the sensitive tip and making him gasp as he suddenly cums, balls drawing up tight as he fills you with his load, hips rutting, stuttering into you.

He shakes ever so gently with the aftershocks, face still hidden against your shoulder as he continues to inhale your intoxicating scent, hands mindlessly smoothing up and down your back as you in turn pet through his hair and at the base of his scalp.

“I love you, too.”

[adelaidedrubman]

wip wednesday but like not really

not really, truly doing wip wednesday because it’s been so long and not tagging anyone because i feel odd and this isn’t really a wip so much as me chucking a cut scene into the ether bc it’s been forever but. anyways sharing writing on wednesday ig here is forgotten and recently rediscovered jestiny’s sexually charged fishing monologue (fishing charged sex monologue?) cut from wildfire

ig warnings for sexual dialogue partially expressed via loving descriptions of catching and killing fish. fishing is a metaphor for sex is a metaphor for death is a metaphor for fishing you get it

“You mind taking care of this one on your own, honey?” Adelaide’s voice drew Jessie from her musings as the car came to a stop midway in the gravel drive. “Not a notch on the bedpost I brag about, but I did make the misstep of sleeping with Zip a while back. Worst fuck of my life,” she recounted with a shudder of disgust. “Just laid there like a fish.”

“A dead fish?” Jessie asked, reorienting herself.

“The hell other kind would I mean?” Adelaide replied. “Dead and washed up. Now I can’t look at him without picturing that blank, lifeless stare and dumb gaping mouth.”

“Ew,” Jestiny agreed, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Definitely want a live one on the line, at least. Have the entertainment of ’em flopping and flailing instead of just hanging off your hook.”

“Think I lost your innuendo there, hun. Haven’t had a lotta ‘fondly reminisce while soaking in the tub with a glass of wine and the air jets on’ encounters I’d use the words ‘flopping and flailing’ to describe, either.”

“Not literally, it’s just — You know — It’s… Fish, you —” She huffed, resting a hand atop the door handle, not yet pulling. “That’s the point of fish, right? They’re alive?”

She nervously drummed her fingers against the handle of the door as Adelaide stared on in questioning silence, continuing, “They’re alive, and on the hook. Alive, but it’s too late. Alive, and staring down their doom. Alive, and knowing on fuckin’ instinct they won’t be for much longer. Alive, but already dead.”

She jiggled the handle, just barely, testing the resistance, how far she could push before opening it.

“That’s what makes it exciting, right? They’re alive when you catch them? That’s what makes fishing more fun than hunting. You don’t just aim and let your gun do the work then go pick up the carcass like a dog playing fetch. You feel them fighting on the line. Trying to match strength — since they already failed matching wits,” she said with a snort of laughter at her own musing. “You’re putting your back into reeling ’em in, all desperate and thrashing. Then when you get that rush of finally pulling them out of the water — hook still in their mouth, first brush of air hitting their gills to send ’em into overdrive?”

Jestiny tilted her head to the side, trailing her index along the seal of the window and watching the way the dust clung to skin.

“A dying fish, I guess. That’s what you want. Because they are dying, right? Even before they’re out of the water and suffocating, before you bring down your knife to stab right through their tiny brain and finally end it!” She paused to catch her breath, a few heavy rises and falls of her chest. “They’re dying as soon as you spot the ripple in the water. They’re dying as soon as they spot the lure and start swimming.” She turned back towards Adelaide. “I mean, it’s kind of a funny saying, when you think about it, right? ‘A live one?’”

Adelaide quirked an eyebrow.

“It’s funny,” she said again, this time clearly insisting rather than asking. “We don’t really ever call fish that when they’re splashing around in the water, safe and sound — no matter how much energy they’re doing it with. No, we only say a fish is ‘a live one’ once it’s on the hook.”

Jessie smirked, crooking a finger at the corner of her mouth and stretching it further out in illustration. “A fish is only ‘a live one’ when it’s already dead.”

“Huh,” Adelaide offered in response, taking a moment to study Jessie’s face. “Not sure they have that one even in the big city sex clubs, kiddo.”

“It’s fuckin’ metaphorical,” she grumbled as she finally jerk the handle with full force and kicked the door to open, shooting Adelaide a glare as she hopped down and took her leave. “Thought you liked locker room talk and shit.”

aaaaaaand here’s what all that ultimately got whittled down to in the current draft (but i had to let her get it out of her system first ig)

“Oof,” Jestiny supplied in solidarity as she hopped out. “Never had much patience for pillow princesses, myself.” She shoved a hand into her pocket to fidget with her radio, trying to resist flicking the power knob to its ‘on’ position prematurely. She offered with a wink and a click of her tongue against teeth, “Definitely better to have a live one on the line.”