#but by this time he was almost an adult and drawn like it

[cyancherub]

forever

itadori yuuji x fem!reader

LENGTH.  5k words

GENRE.  nsfw, aged up characters (20+)

PLAYLIST.  one (for the fluff) / two (for the sex lmao)

CONTENT.  friends to lovers, mutual pining, fantasizing, fingering, dry humping, orgasm denial/edging (?) (self imposed tho), clothed sex, ripping clothes, soft/emotional sex, lots of fluff and sap.

SYNOPSIS.  what happens when your best friend notices a hole in your leggings during an innocent game of cards?

AUTHOR’S NOTE.  this was supposed to be a drabble based on an ask @what-the-fucdge-rin​ sent me about how the jjk men would react to you wearing leggings with holes in them ... but i got carried away and wrote this in a lovesick stupor bc i simply cannot get this man out of my head LMAO

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT. PLEASE DON’T REC ME ON TIKTOK.

Yuuji’s just finished his turn, setting his card — a two of hearts — at the top of the pile of cards that’s positioned between the two of you. He has to keep fixing the pile, because the cards keep sliding around haphazardly each time either of you makes a little movement on the mattress.

Why you decided that the two of you should play cards on your bed — and not on a flat surface, like the dining table — beats him. But he guesses it doesn’t really matter if he has to keep fixing the cards. He’ll always indulge you, no matter the situation — if only to see the smile on your face when he gives in after some whining.

Yuuji watches closely as you look between the two of hearts and your hand of cards. His turns are always quick; he’s impulsive — always listening to his first instinct, always setting down the first card that speaks to him.

He’s studying you as you consider your options. You’re not impulsive like he is; your turns almost always take longer. But he doesn’t care how much time you take; in fact, the more the better. Because that means he has more time to look at you. He could let hours pass like this — watching you think.

Not that he could ever tell you that. You look up at him suddenly, and he looks away, sheepish.

“What?” you ask.

“Hm?”

“I thought you were looking at me.”

“Oh,” he stammers, thinking of an excuse. “Well… I was, because you’re taking forever,” he blurts.

“Shut up,” you scoff, flustered. “That’s why I’m gonna win.”

He suppresses a smile; you look back down at your hand.

It’s just a few moments later that Yuuji sees it. He’s not looking on purpose; he just finds his eyes drawn to the area between your legs when you adjust to fold your legs in front of you, because there’s a sudden flash of red there. The pile of cards between you has shifted again, but this time, he’s too distracted to fix it. Right now, he’s looking — with burning cheeks — at the bright red lace of your panties peeking out obviously through a hole right in the crotch of your black leggings.

He tears his eyes away, looking sheepishly for something else in the room to fix his eyes on. He really didn’t mean to look. He doesn’t want to look at you — his best friend of years — like that. He feels like a bit of a scumbag for doing it, and his cheeks are still burning.

But there’s an instinctual part of him that can’t help but wonder what exactly those panties look like under your leggings. He chews his lip, wondering what kind of panties they are, how they look on your figure. Admittedly, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s thought about something like this.

He could throttle himself. What’s he doing? He clears his throat guiltily, watching you fix the disorderly pile before setting your own card down. When you look back up at him, smiling warmly, he pales for a moment. He feels odd — suddenly weak in the knees at all of the fondness in your expression, so much of it that he swears he feels his heart skip a beat.

He gulps. He should probably tell you about it, right? The… panties?

“You have — you have —” he blathers, trailing off. A hole in your crotch? That sounds weird. He laughs nervously and scratches his head, thinking about the best way to phrase it. But, before he can do that, he finds his eyes drawn — involuntarily — back between your legs for a fraction of a second.

Yuuji averts his gaze quickly, but to his chagrin, you’ve already seen.

“Huh?” You’re looking between your legs now, and you see it — that little hole through which your bright panties are glaring obviously. “Oh!”

He feels awful for embarrassing you. Maybe he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. But at the same time, some wicked part of him thinks you look so cute, all flustered and embarrassed like that. He feels his heart clench in his chest.

“Why were you looking?” you blurt, flustered.

“I don’t know,” he yammers, blushing and baffled, “why are you wearing holey leggings?”

“It’s not like I knew, dummy!”

Yuuji’s blushing hard now, averting his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t really know what to say, so he closes it again, clearing his throat awkwardly. As if he could hide behind them, he lifts his cards up to his face — pretending that he’s studying them. He gives it a good effort; he really tries to think about the cards in his hand. But, as it turns out, the only thing his mind can focus on is the red lace between your thighs. His brain is going haywire, conjuring up an image of you in a cute, bright red set.

He thinks he’d die on the spot if he saw you in something like that. You, of all people. His cheeks are burning so hot he thinks they might catch on fire. They keep getting hotter as the blood rushes to his face.

With panic, Yuuji realizes that there’s blood rushing somewhere else, too — right between his legs. He feels awful; he’s so worked up over those images in his head, and now he can’t get them out.

Why the hell is the fabric of his shorts so thin? He’s cursing himself for wearing athletic shorts. Couldn’t have he worn something thicker? Something that wouldn’t give away the growing shape of his dick away so easily? Desperately, he’s trying to distract himself — to curb the rush of blood between his legs. But, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t scrub that image of you in lingerie from his mind. His shorts are getting uncomfortably tight, and he’s still pretending to study his cards, avoiding your eyes. He hopes to god you’re not noticing what’s happening between his legs.

“Yuuji.”

Your tone is a little breathless. A little strange. Sheepishly, he lowers his cards — looking at you, wide-eyed and flustered. His stomach drops when he realizes that your eyes are fixed on his crotch, where his dick is stiffening on his thigh, straining against his shorts.

“Why are you looking?” he blurts.

“How can I not?” you exclaim. “You’re — you’re…”

You both stare at each other for a long moment — equally flustered, with the pile of cards between you falling into chaos.

Yuuji’s mind is falling into chaos, too. Maybe he’s used to acting on impulse with most things. But this isn’t most things. This is you. So right now he’s thinking about what he should do. Should he make the first move, after all these years? After never having the courage to?

And what if you’re not interested? He can’t fully read the look on your face. What if you don’t want him? It must’ve been weird, right? Catching him staring at your crotch, watching him get hard out of nowhere? He feels bad; he must’ve made you uncomfortable.

“I’m sor—“ he starts. But he trails off, watching your hand dart forward suddenly. He doesn’t really know what’s happening as he watches you grab a fistful of his shirt. For a moment, he marvels at how small your hand is against his chest. And then he finds himself yanked forward by the fabric of his shirt.

It takes his muddled mind a moment to process what you’re doing. But he gives under the force, lets you pull him further and further forward. And it’s only when your mouths meet — his lips crashing against yours — that he really gets it. That he understands: you’re the one acting on impulse, for once.

His head feels foggy, feverish. His heart is pounding in his chest. For a moment, he doesn’t even think this is real; he wonders if his mind conjured it up, a culmination of all of his desire for you. No, he thinks. The feeling of your lips, so soft against his, the smell of your shampoo, your fingers wrapping up in his hair and pulling slightly — it’s all, undoubtedly, real.

It’s real, and you’re pulling him further over you. He gives, shifts his weight over you, pushing you down onto the bed. Beneath you, beneath him, the cards scattered over the bed bend and warp, ruined — but it doesn’t really matter, does it? Because this is what he’s been wanting, waiting for, needing.

He’s surprised to feel you part your lips, to feel you pushing your tongue into his mouth. But he reciprocates, enthusiastic and eager. His first taste of you is hungry and messy and desperate — his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. He runs his rough hand up your side, brings it up and up until it’s resting on your chest and he’s cupping you through your bra.

Is this okay? he murmurs through sloppy kisses. Can I touch you?

And, of course, the answer is yes. You’re rewarded with a rough squeeze. A needy, clothed thrust follows; he pushes you down into the mattress, ruins the cards beneath you further.

Touch me, but…

For a moment, he pauses. He’s afraid that he’s done something wrong, that he’s hurt you. But then you’re grabbing his wrist.

Here, you’re saying, guiding his hand between your legs. Right here, okay?

He mumbles a hasty okay into your mouth, runs his fingers over the damp fabric between your thighs. There’s a soft moan in response. He can’t believe how needy you are, how much you want it — just as much as him. He wonders if you’ve been wanting it for all these years, just like he has.

Yuuji’s fingers on the fabric are gentle at first. Slow. And, then, as your soft moans go to his head, the urgency behind them increases. He’s so hard, aching, precum leaking down his thigh. It’s the desperation that’s getting to him — the fervent way your tongue explores his mouth, your fingers tugging lightly at his hair, the way you’re spreading your legs wider for him. He thinks the way you buck your hips upward each time his fingers graze over your clit is so cute. That you must be so sensitive, especially under all of these layers of clothing. And he wants them off.

So when his fingers catch that little hole in your leggings — the one that started all of this — he finds his impulse taking over. He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he does it anyway: curls his finger into that little split in the fabric, rips it a little wider.

He doesn’t think you’ve noticed yet; your soft moans are euphoric, drowning out the sounds of the slowly ripping fabric. He thrusts a little harder, a little needier. The impact pushes you down into the mattress, bending the cards beneath your bodies a little more.

Yuuji’s trying his best to hold back, because he wants to be gentle with you, but he’s never really been the type to practice self-restraint. And his patience is wearing thin; it’s been so long, so long — years of wanting you. He can’t wait any longer, not even for your leggings to come down. And that’s why, while he’s slipping his tongue deeper into your mouth, he’s also slipping his rough fingers further into the tear in the fabric between your legs.

His stomach is all knotted up — desire, nerves. The sweet sounds that keep spilling from your mouth into his are getting him high, buzzing in his head. He just can’t help it anymore — and so he finds himself hooking his fingers around the tear and pulling, sudden and rough.

The fabric of your leggings gives easily under the force with a loud rip.

While you let out a little cry of surprise, he’s pulling back to glance feverishly between your thighs. He’s ripped a hole the size of his palm, and what he can see through it sends butterflies rolling through his stomach and another rush of blood between his legs. Your exposed thigh, your panties — and a big damp spot right in the middle of them.

You’re pinching his cheek, scolding him about the leggings (They’re actually expensive, you know?!) but he can hear the breathiness in your voice still, the anticipation. And when he looks back up to your face to murmur a sheepish apology — I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll buy you new ones, I promise — he finds that you’re smiling. And as another swarm of butterflies makes its way through his chest at all the emotion in that smile, you’re knotting your hands back in his hair and pulling his face back down to yours.

Of course, like always — he gives. This time, it’s with no resistance. He indulges you completely, lets you pull his face down until your lips are meeting again. He’d give you anything you want. Everything. This is exactly what he’s been waiting for.

This time, he takes control. He parts his lips as soon as they meet yours, kisses you deeply — with a hunger that’s built up over years. He’s feverish and hazy as he rips the hole in your leggings further open, tearing the fabric to expose your inner thighs more. And when he’s exposed enough of you, he runs his curious fingers up your inner thighs — squeezing, touching, rubbing until you’re gasping.

Heavy breaths — exchanged from your mouth to his, and then back again. They’re shaky, full of so much emotion he thinks he could drown in it.

He wants to. He wants to let all of these emotions through for the very first time, to let them take over. To drown in you and all of these feelings for you.

Yuuji brings his calloused fingers between your thighs and presses them — gently, at first, hesitantly — to the lace over your slit. Feels just how wet you are for him. A nervous, shaky exhale leaves his mouth. A soft laugh. You want him this much.

Maybe he really could drown in you.

Yuuji wants to play with you for a little while. He’s always liked to toy with you, to tease. He does it often — in almost every interaction — because he likes to see the little pout that always crosses your face. He’s always thought it was so cute. He thinks he’ll tease right now…

But the thought is short lived. As soon as he runs his fingers over your clit through your panties, a soft moan tumbles from your lips, and another rush of wetness dampens your panties. That’s it for him; he’d be insane to wait a second longer.

So he finds himself pushing his tongue deeper into your mouth, fumbling clumsily now with your panties — his self control completely thrown to the wayside. He pulls them roughly to the side, hears a stitch pop. He murmurs another apology, but it’s swallowed between sloppy kisses.

He’s always a little rougher than intended.

That poor pretty lace. But it’s alright, isn’t it? Because he’ll get you something even prettier after the two of you inevitably ruin these: you dripping all over them, him ripping the lace apart. He’ll get you something as pretty as you, because that’s exactly what you deserve.

He wants to give you everything you deserve. Every single thing you want. He’s thinking this as you start to moan desperately for him. He’ll give you what you want right now; how could he ever deny you this?

But, still, before he touches you — really touches you, for the very first time — he asks.

“Can I?”

It’s a breathy, hasty murmur into your mouth. And it’s heavy, because he knows there’s no going back after what’s to come.

Not that he’d ever want to go back to any moment before this. He waits for permission with his fingers hovering over your pussy. He can feel the heat of it just inches away, and his dick is aching against his thigh.

You nod, grabbing his wrist again to guide his hand forward. Slowly. His breaths pick up; he’s aching for you so much that he can’t help but thrust down against your thigh. Just to relieve a little of the aching in his dick, just to get some friction on it. To his surprise, you reward that action with the sweetest little murmur. The sound goes straight to his dick, gets him harder as you bring his hand forward. The little space between the two of you that his hand is crossing feels both impossibly vast and impossibly small.

And then, finally, he feels the heat of you against his fingers.

The wetness of you — velvety, soft. He feels your breaths catch in his mouth as he drags his fingers through your pussy. Feels your hips buck up, little noises spilling from your mouth that are getting him drunk. His mind is buzzing; his dick is twitching in his shorts. He wants to hear more. To hear you better. So he pulls back a little, starts to trail sloppy kisses down your chin, down your neck. He litters them across your throat, leaves them over your skin, like a gift.

“Oh, baby,” he slurs against your neck. “You’re so, so wet.”

You mumble something unintelligible. Almost a plea. He’s slow and gentle on your clit; you’re bucking upward, desperate for more. You don’t have to say anything, because he knows what you want. Even if you can’t form the words, even if he hasn’t known you like this before, he knows you like the back of his hand. He knows from the look on your face, from the tone of your voice, exactly what you need — so he gives it to you.

He sinks a finger into you. Feels you suck him in, your walls dripping wet and fluttering. He gets higher on the sweet noises you make as you part around him — pliant, malleable, desperate. He shudders against your throat, thrusts down again.

You ask for another. So he obliges, sucking softly on your neck as he sinks another finger into your pussy. He can feel your walls stretching around his fingers, then clenching. You’re getting wetter with each moment that passes. Needier. And he needs you too, so badly. There’s so much precum dripping out of his dick that he’s soaked through his shorts. He feels like he’s harder than he’s ever been.

Your pussy feels so good around his fingers. He’s dying to get all of this slippery heat — all of the twitching, dripping wetness of your insides — around his dick. He knows it’ll feel amazing, better than anything he’s ever felt.

But there’s another need that’s beginning to overwhelm that. It’s not the carnal intensity of needing to fuck you; it’s an overhwelming, heightening arousal that builds lazily with each pump and curl of his fingers inside of you, with each soft moan that you gift him with in response. Pleasing you, even if it means denying himself — it’s a feeling unlike any other. More than anything, he realizes that he just wants to please you.

To make you feel good. So, as much as he wants to be inside of you, he’ll wait a little longer — until you’re ready for him to give you what you need. Until you’re even wetter, until you’re stretched around his fingers, until it’ll feel best for you.

It’s always been you, hasn’t it? Anything for you.

So he takes his time stretching you out. His kisses are deep and hungry, betraying how much he really needs you. But he’ll deny himself until you’re ready — sinking his fingers into your pussy over and over again, high on the sweet noises each curl elicits from your pretty mouth. He pushes them in deep — all the way to the knuckle, feels you gasp and twitch around him.

He’s eager when he curls his fingers, maybe even a little rough — so enamored with how good you feel inside, with how your walls twitch and weep around his fingers. But you’re responding to that roughness, to the intensity of his fingers stroking over your g spot.

As your back starts to arch off the bed, he stops sucking your neck to ask, softly, almost innocently, Is it good? Do you like it? Does it feel okay?

And you answer, So good, so good, just like that, keep going.

He thinks that he might not even last to fuck you — that he might cum just from listening to your soft whimpers.

So when you reach between his legs, fumbling with his shorts between hazy gasps, he thinks that he really won’t last. Not with the way you’re taking his dick out — hard, hot and dripping — and wrapping your soft, warm hand around it. Not with the way you’re dragging the precum down it, that first wet stroke sending a shudder down his entire body. And when you start to pump your hand down his aching dick, with precum dribbling out of the tip and saturating the shredded fabric of your leggings, he has to grit his teeth to stop his orgasm from building.

He moans feverishly against your neck, still pumping his fingers into your pussy. He can barely focus; his head is cloudy, and his breaths are catching as he feels your soft, slick hands pump up and down his dick.

I want you so bad, baby, I can’t even take it, he murmurs against your throat, breathless.

He needs you so much. The feeling of your hands on his dick, the way you’re stroking it quickly — sloppy pumps as his wet fingers squelch inside of you, still curling roughly — is driving him insane. He’s losing his composure; you’re bringing him to the brink quickly.

So he begs, gasps, Slow down. Slow down, please, I don’t want to cum yet.

He wants to last. He wants to feel you around him before you make him cum. He knows he can make you feel even better, if he can just last until he’s inside you. And you’re so, so wet around his fingers. So wet that he thinks you’re ready for him.

He wants to make you feel even better, if you’re ready for it — wants to stretch you out more, fill you up more. He wants to hear how your sweet moans will sound when he’s moving in and out of your pussy. When he’s making you feel so good.

But the two of you are already both so close. You’re starting to clamp down on his fingers, and the feeling is sending him right to the edge. He’s whimpering softly, gritting his teeth as he tries to ignore that heightening, cresting pleasure.

At this point, he just wants to last until you cum, even if he’s not inside you when it happens.

But then he hears you murmur, Wait, I want, I want…

What do you want, baby?

I want you inside me.

He shudders. Feels his dick stiffen more under your grasp. That’s not something he’d ever thought he would hear you say. He’s painfully hard now; it’s a desire that he knows won’t be relieved until he’s inside you.

But, still, he asks feverishly, as he adjusts above you, Are you sure?

Of course you are — nodding, biting your lip, looking up at him desperately. And how could he ever say no to you? He doesn’t even know how long he’ll last when he gets inside, but he wants to give you this. So he slips his fingers out of you, slowly, all of your arousal dripping off of them.

Okay, he says breathily, wrapping his hand around his dick, stroking the slick wetness of you down it. He shudders, looking down at your face, studying you closely. It’s okay?

You nod again, impatient as he levels himself over you. He looks between your thighs, positions his dick to your dripping entrance. For a moment, he just marvels at the wet mess between your legs. He takes it all in with a shaky inhale, and a look of feverish fascination on his blushing face: your leggings torn to shreds, your inner thighs exposed and glistening wet.

And when he positions the dripping tip of his dick against your slit — seeping with arousal, fluttering with anticipation — it sucks him in slightly, ready for him. You let out a little sigh that sends his mind reeling; he’s just barely inside of you and he can already feel your walls clenching around him.

He doesn’t move. He just stalls there, barely in. Because he needs to capture this moment. His nerves have his heart in his throat, but he has to look at your face. Has to study all the bliss there in this moment — because you’re so pretty, the prettiest thing he’s seen. His head is foggy, faraway, but his heart is right here, pounding hard in his chest at this promise: to be inside of you, to have you completely.

He’s breathing hard — suffocating on the tension in this moment, listening to his heartbeat race.

And, like always, you break the tension. Soothe his nerves. You’re still flustered, but your mouth turns up in a smile that has his stomach in knots.

Softly, affectionately, and with all the tenderness in the world, you laugh, “I want you. I want this. It’s okay. Put it in already, dummy.”

He laughs too, with his cheeks burning and his heart racing with anticipation.

“Okay, baby,” he says breathily. “Okay.” And he thinks, Anything for you, anything you want, absolutely anything.

So he rests his weight on his forearms, his nose brushing against yours as he lowers his lips back down. Your tongues intertwine, sloppy, breaths heavy and desperate as he sinks down into your pussy for the very first time.

He feels that tight wetness envelop him. Feels every inch of his dick hugged tight, your walls fluttering and parting, giving easily for him as he pushes you open around him. You’re so wet for him, so ready — warm and pliant and so, so good. He shudders, feels the tension building again.

And when he sinks all the way into you, you moan. Soft and sweet, pleasured, better than anything he’s ever heard. The feeling of you, the sound of you — all of you is so good that it draws a little gasp, a breathless little moan from his own mouth. You’re sucking him in, greedy and clenching.

And now that he’s bottomed out, buried all the way inside of you, feeling your walls pulse around him — he wants to make sure it’s okay for you. That he’s not hurting you before he starts to move.

So he pulls back, just slightly, almost nervous to look at you — even after all of these years. Blushing, he murmurs, Does it feel okay?

Beneath him, you nod hazily. He can tell you’re lost in pleasure already — eyelashes fluttering, struggling to look up at him as you clench up around him. Your hands are knotted up in his hair, pulling on it needily. So he obliges — pulls out again, sinks in all the way. You’re enveloping him, completely, deeply — the both of you moaning softly each time he buries his dick all the way inside.

He thinks you look so pretty in this moment. You always look pretty to him, but this is different. Familiar, but brand new. As he feels your legs wrap around him, as your eyes flutter shut, he watches all the ways your face contorts with each movement. Your face — every angle so familiar, memorized, well-loved — but brand new. Loved, now, in a new way, in a situation he’s only ever dreamt of.

It’s an image he’ll never forget.

“It’s more than okay,” you’re murmuring hazily.

“Good,” he says breathily.

Yuuji feels you disentangle your hands from his hair to bring them to the sides of his face. You cradle it, and the simple action is filled with so much affection, so much tenderness, that a lump forms in his throat. He feels something inside of him break, feels emotions pour out. He’s inside of you — you. And you’re smiling up at him, and your thumb is tracing down the scar on the side of his mouth, and he’s feeling things he’s never felt. That look on your face: adoration, fondness, and longing to match his — longing that he’d never noticed until right this moment. It’s so plain on your face that he wonders how he could’ve ever missed it.

You run your thumb over his scar one more time, and, right before you pull his face back down to yours, he hears you murmur something.

“I’ve only wanted it forever.”

He swallows over the lump in his throat, feels his eyes burn. Forever.

“Forever,” he repeats against your mouth. His voice cracks at the end of the word, and his lips brush against yours. Soft, tender. “Me too,” he says quietly.

Forever. Right before he parts your lips with his again, he smiles. He can’t believe, after all these years, all it took was a pair of leggings.

[lariskapargitay]

“Please,” Bruno overheard Pepa through Julietas door, “please don’t tell Mamá! Julieta please just give me an arepa and forget about this. Okay if she sees the bruises, she’s gonna want to know why and I don’t want her to.”

A storm was raging outside so whatever she wanted to keep hidden, Bruno guessed it wasn’t good.

“She has to know what happened,” Julieta said with all the sternness of the oldest sibling.

“No she doesn’t! We’re seventeen years old, we’re almost adults, she doesn’t have to know everything!”

“You don’t think this might be important?” She lowered her voice into a soft sweet tone. “Pepa, this wasn’t your fault.”

“It was though! I couldn’t control my emotions, I couldn’t bring clear skies, and then his party was ruined-!”

“His party was ruined because he wouldn’t stop trying to put his hand up your skirt even after you told him not to! And then when you pushed him away he got mad at you for it!” Bruno’s eyes got wide. He had never heard his sister so angry before. Pepa sure, she was angry all the time, mainly at him, but Julieta? It took a LOT to get her upset. “So what does he do? He goes and hits you for thundering! Tell me again exactly how is that your fault?”

Bruno put a hand over his mouth to muffle the stream of curses leaving his mouth. Someone had hit Pepa. Probably Raul, the latest asshole in a never ending stream of boyfriends that lasted as long as it took for their shirt to get wet from a rain cloud. His suspension was confirmed a moment later when Pepa replied.

“I could have kept calm, but I didn’t, I just-… I was drinking, Raul was drinking, and I just got so scared… I should have just kept calm.”

Bruno’s hand curled into a fist when he heard the tears in his sister's voice, even if he hadn’t heard them a fresh bout of rain would have told him.

Without warning Bruno slammed opened Julieta’s door. Both girls, drenched from Pepa’s rain cloud, jumped, Pepa’s lightning barely missing him, and quickly turned to look at him. Even though the storm he could see the large bruise around her eye, the black and blue an ugly contrast to the bright emerald green of her eyes, the dried blood on her cut lip and black and blue markings on her jaw

Sheer terror crossed Pepa’s face, and then it turned to anger. “What are you doing in here?!” Pepa shouted, her words accompanied by rolling thunder. “Get out!“

Julieta gave him a forced smile. “It’s okay, Bruno, I got this under control. Why don’t you give us a moment okay? Go back to your room.”

With one last look at the bruise marring Pepa’s pale skin Bruno whirled and ran, not stopping until he was out of the Casita and in front of the local cantina. With a deep breath he walked inside where Raul was laughing and drinking with some of his friends.

He hadn’t even bothered to take care of the bruises or cuts on his knuckles.

“Hey Madrigal!” a voice called out, and Bruno cursed under his breath. He didn’t want attention drawn to him this early. Raul turned to him, brown eyes narrowing.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Mustering all the courage a 5’4 man who weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet in an oversized poncho could muster, Bruno stormed up to the man, narrowing his eyes as dangerously as he could. Raul stood several inches taller than Bruno and he was built like a solid brick house, like nearly all of Pepa’s boyfriends were.

Oh this was a fantastic idea…

“You’re going to apologize to Pepa for what you did,” Bruno said sternly, trying not to sound as nervous as he looked. “And then you’re gonna leave her alone.”

Raul glowered at him, the scars on his knuckles stretched right across his skin. “Did Pepa tell you what she did? How she ruined my party with her storming?”

“Even if that was ANY excuse to hit her, why did she have a rain cloud in the first place? Hmm?” Without waiting for an answer Bruno continued. “You touch my sister again, and you’re not gonna like what happens.”

Raul snickered. “Sorry to be the one to tell you this but half the Encanto has touched your puta sister.”

Bruno’s hands curled into a fist. “You know, you-!” But he trailed off before he clutched the sides of his head and fell to his knees, crying out in pain.

“What the hell did you do to him?” someone demanded.

“I didn’t even touch him!” Raul yelled as they stared down at Bruno, gasping for air as he began to convulse.

“Should we get Julieta?” someone asked, but before anyone could run to the Casita Bruno climbed to all fours. Shaking and trembling he stood, wobbling, nearly falling over and having to grip the bar to keep himself standing.

He looked at Raul, eyes wide, jaw dropped. A lone tear made his way down his face. “Raul, I’m… I'm so sorry,” he breathed. “I don’t… I don’t know, I didn’t-.”

“What?” Raul demanded as the men around him muttered what it could mean that the town prophet was apologizing. “What are you talking about?”

He tapped his fingers together nervously. “Maybe if I don’t say it aloud it won’t happen?”

“Say what?” he barked. “What did you see?”

“Don’t make him say!” one man said quickly. “He told my girlfriend that her goldfish would die, and the next day… Goldie had gone.”

There was another round of mutters, and they all took a step back from Bruno and Raul both.

Raul scoffed and shook his head. “No he’s fucking with me. I’ve seen him when he has visions, there’s sand and wind and a little glass thing, his eyes turn green…”

“Not always. Not if it’s…” Bruno swallowed hard. “Really really bad.”

Louder mutterings, and the self assurance slid off his face. He swallowed hard. “Wha-? How… how bad?”

Bruno said nothing. He put a hand on Raul’s shoulder, stared him in the eyes, leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again to even louder mutterings and a rather perfectly timed clash of lightning and thunder. Raul looked around at the group that had gathered, a sweat growing on his brow as they all took another step back.

With terror in his eyes, Raul ran from the cantina and into the storming rain. The moment he was gone the cantina all began to mutter to themselves about what this could mean to the poor, probably marked for death or destruction or dismemberment, Raul.

Bruno, however, had to bite his lip to keep from grinning. He always knew his real gift was acting…

[a-gal-with-taste]

Ultimatum (NSFW)

Summary: It'll happen tonight, or never. Both of you are too old for games, and if Silco insists on playing, then you're more than prepared to tap out... or encourage his hand. It might not need as much as you initially thought.

Warnings: NSFW|MDNI. Tension, porn with feelings, fluff, romance, confessions, rough makeouts, manhandling, p-in-v, desk-sex, banter, touchstarvedness, Reader as feral as Silco

"Tonight, or never."

Ultimatums were not something one gives to the Eye of Zaun. If anything, Silco was the kind of man to give ultimatums, but receive them? That was a far-rarer instance, which could perhaps explain his delay in reaction before he raised his chin just enough so he could glare up at you.

"What do you-?"

"Silco. Either you knock-off whatever games you're playing, and fuck me tonight, or we never do."

Air sucks out like a vacuum. From the room, from your lungs at your own audacity let out into what's left of air, and judging by how quickly Silco's pen clatters from his fingers, with one eye as wide as the other, he is rendered equally breathless at your declaration.

And, for a moment without air, you wonder if perhaps you've misread everything.

“... I beg your pardon?” Perhaps his tone, almost scandalized, definitely offended and embarrassingly flat, is a sign. A sign that you’ve looked too deep into the interactions between you and him - that every lingering glance, every grazing touch that made breathing still, teasing words said flippantly but with smoldering in the eyes, was just something you were trying to look for, and not something that was actually there…

But it was there. It had to be, there was no other explanation, no other reason for the slight, but tangible change in the atmosphere that occurred whenever you and Silco happened to be in the same room.

It was like you two were magnets, instinctively, and naturally drawn to one-another. You certainly seemed to draw Silco’s eyes onto you like it was on-command, and Janna knows how quickly the simple sound of Silco’s voice had you standing at attention. Unhelped by the months of dry wit, the lingering visits between your reporting's at his office, those damn fingers of his grazing when he reached to take papers from your hand. They never moved, just like his gaze on you - not until you yourself pulled back, and did so very reluctantly.

The tension was thick enough to cut through, obvious enough to you, and surely clear enough for him as well, and yet, Silco had the nerve to act dumb, staring up at you with open-surprise at your blunt ultimatum, before the eye begins to narrow into a slit, and the Eye of Zaun leans back with fingers steepling on his lap. 

He says nothing; only raises a brow, and it says more than enough for you to seethe.

“Don’t you even-” “You are offended?” The brow raises up halfway to his hairline, Silco tilting his head in a curious way, underlined by a cool, calculating glint in his eyes as he runs his gaze over your body.

They linger on your hands, which are attempting to bite into the wood of his desk, before he looks back up at you, and sighs through his nose. “Refresh my memory if I'm incorrect. But I believe you were the one to stride in here, making demands of me-”

“I’m not demanding anything,” You clarify shortly, pulling your hands back to wrap around yourself, biting slightly into your upper-arms. “You can send me out now, and I'll be gone. But that’s it - we’re both adults here, Silco, and we shouldn’t be wasting our time-”

“So you consider the time spent with me to be wasteful?” He hums this answer within his mouth, before pursing his lips in a mocking shadow of a pout. “Pity. I rather enjoyed them… though clearly not as much as you have, considering this rather crass ultimatum you’re presenting to me.”

“Again, you can say no, and I'll leave. But don’t expect me back.”

“Are you standing there, and honestly telling me you’ll terminate your employment if I don’t make love to you tonight?” 

Your heart skips a beat - not from the flatness of his words, but the words he used exactly. Silco isn’t known for swearing like a dirt-mouth sailor, true, but… not ‘fuck’ but ‘make love’…?

You caught him. 

Maybe he doesn’t realize his slip up yet, but you did, and it’s enough to make your heart sound pounding like a drum behind your ears - half in anger because he’s still sitting there, playing dumb while you just caught him, and half in the realization that maybe you won’t be walking out of here disappointed.

You refuse to inform him of that. “No. I mean this will be the last time I'll meet with you. Everything else will be strictly professional beyond that… I won’t be playing games with you, Silco.”

His hands dropped into his lap, now fists. “Ah yes, spoken like someone who is speaking completely seriously,” Silco comments, dry as ever, but it’s betrayed by the soft sound of his teeth grinding before he leans forward, and gets onto his feet, palms soon braced on the desktop. “I didn’t realize you would be so desperate-”

“Or that you would be so ridiculous, why are you pretending?” You ask, in true bewilderment as you step forward and - for Janna’s sake, his breath catches the moment you match his form, palms flat on the desk as you lean forward, breath close enough to brush the stray hairs along his temple. 

Even the blind could see, so why won’t Silco just acknowledge it? “Silco, I highly doubt you invite every employee under your belt to your office after hours for drinks,” Your tone is patient, and unappreciated, as you watch his seagreen eyes narrow.

“So you think you’re… special, is that it?” He tilts his head, studying a second too long. “A bit presumptuous… though, there’s something to be admired about someone recognizing and asserting their self-worth.” Did he not just admit to enjoying spending time with you? Your temper flares, and again, his eyes drop down, red and green catching and lingering on your nails gripping the wood beneath. They return quickly to your face, when you lean close enough for you to see the red veins of the infamous eye within what remains of it. 

“If I'm not special, then why?” The challenge goes unanswered, and you’re already issuing a second when Silco finally thinks to open his mouth. “No, seriously  - why? Why the best wines, those solo-chaperone missions? The nights after debriefs, that damn poker game… the way you haven’t actually looked away from me, or blinked for the last minute?”

At this, his remaining-eyelid finally twitches. Briefly, he scowled immediately after being called-out, and started to shift away. The effort falters, then halted immediately when you refuse to let him walk away from whatever this is, without actually saying something, and his eyes dart down to the hand that now clasps over his own.

“Silco,” You urge in the calmest tone you can muster. “Just be straight with me. For once. Please.”

The squeeze you give his hand was meant to catch his attention, but it only seems to leave Silco fixated on it. Staring, unreadable as he looks toward your joined hands - no, not unreadable.

Surprised. And wanting.

Wanting, just from your simple touch. You almost want to gloat, but that sliver of emotion is clouded by a look of confliction, as if it’s unknown to himself if he wants to take all you could offer with both hands and never let go, or pull away.

It’s almost pathetic, and perhaps desperate like he says, that you so badly want him to choose the former. Perhaps that's why you murmur his name so quietly, squeezing just so that it catches his attention. It drags, but eventually, Silco is looking back to you, with a deep exhale as he draws his gaze between the slip gap you and him have left between you, keeping you apart still.

Then, you watch in slow-motion as that clouding of doubt, confliction and cold crosses over his face once more, and Silco starts to pull away. Anger, hot and fuming and done with this bastard's stupidity is flaring wildly in you, and with a bite of nails digging into his hand, pinning it to the desk, your other hand comes up to practically snatch his chin and lower jaw, before dragging him right back over.

You caught him. Caught him, with that same look you’ve caught yourself having in the mirror at the mere thought of Silco, and now you refuse to let him go.

The first kiss is more teeth than lips, more fierce than fluff, and it’s perfect. 

Moreso when, after the initial half-shout of shock at your sudden movements, and a moment of stillness as you take what could be your only-chance to outline every chipped-tooth in this insufferable man’s mouth, there’s a hand twisting in your hair to go along with the tongue that's twisting with yours.

Sloppy, rough and far more growly than you had been prepared for, and yes, it’s just as perfect as you can imagine. Silco must have similar sentiments, because the groan that vibrates straight into your mouth is pure-bliss when your free hand comes up to his cheek, outlining and trailing scars you imagine no other has been allowed to touch.

Perhaps the reason is because the reviled Kingpin of the Undercity all but melts into your palm at the touch, and if that’s what happens when you just touch his face…

You release him, but only long enough to round the desk entirely, and for Silco to get a handful of sarcastic words out, made weak by how breathless he is, “Well, if you’re going to be deciding for me-”

“You haven’t shoved me away yet,” You point out, and punctuate the statement by shoving him right back into his chair. The velvet-backed office chair creaks when he collapses back into it, and there’s a glint of outrage in his eyes when he goes to right himself - it dies rather quickly, when you throw one leg over his own and slid yourself into his lap, hands sliding up his rapidly-rising and falling chest.

“You’re a dumbass, and you took too long. I had to take initiative, or we would be stuck in your denial for another decade.” The blunt admission makes a frown appear on his face, one that quickly fades when you trail your fingers up, bypass his neck entirely, and outline his face between your hands. “An idiot, truly-”

“To be fair to my own intelligence, you never thought to be so bold until tonight,” His words end in a hum, as you’re soon smoothing your fingers along his hair and running your nails along his scalp. It’s fascinating, and you breathe deeply through parted lips as you watch his eye flicker shut as he seems torn between which hand to lean to.

It’s as if he’s never been touched so caringly by another person before. Or it’s simply been a long, long time.

“Did… would you have ever been bold enough?”

“I certainly wouldn’t have let you walk away tonight.” The red-eye boring into you is rejoined by the seagreen, as Silco looks up to you in a way that clears your lungs entirely of oxygen. There’s the briefest of hesitations, and the faintest of shakes at his inhale before his words come out in a low-roll, “It’s.. been a while, for me. Much of it is… but it’s been only you I've wanted.”

You knew that already, but can’t stop the curiosity from coloring your tone as you play and fiddle with the faint gray strands at his temple, “How long is a while, if you don’t mind…?”

“Hmm…” His eye shuts again. You have to tug at the hair for him to pay attention, an act he doesn’t seem too adverse with, but obeys silently. “How long have I reigned over The Last Drop?”

Oh.

Yeah, that’s… very much a while. 

“And… I'm the first since the-?“ 

''You’re my only.”

Again, oh. You shift in his lap, hand trailing back down to grip at his vest with hooded eyes of your own. Silco leans fully into the hand that remains, watching you from beneath a hooded eye that seems earnest in a way no one would ever believe the Eye of Zaun to be - it’s almost too much, and you shift.

Immediately, the adoring glint in his gaze flares with heat - the same heat that torches your belly, when you shift again in your seat on his lap, and suddenly remember that ultimatum that got you here in the first place.

 “Perhaps we can discuss the finer details another time,” Silco grunts, hands suddenly shifting up to cup your hips in a tight, inescapable grip that still allows you to roll down onto the bulge growing in his lap. “Ditto,” You say, your own hands fleeing down to begin working at buttons, the same time as fingers start to pluck at the tucked-shirt beneath your pants hem. “It’s been a while, might as well go all in-”

“Ha.”

A bit of a tighter grip as you lean forward, mouthing along his jawline between words, while nails bite into your hips even tighter at the sensations, “But i’m staying on top, I think i’ve earned it long enough for being patient with you-”

“A hard-bargain, but I accept.” 

“Then no more waiting.”

It was bordering on tender and loving before, but what follows is desperation - it’s fitting, in a way. You love this man - foolish, stubborn, high-and-mighty, bastard of a man, but you care for him nonetheless. In the future, you imagine there will be time to watch his cold and fiery eyes once more soften at your touch, that near putty he had become in your hands when your nails grazed a certain spot behind his ear…

Now, however, there is a desperation. A longing that can’t be cured by anything soft, tender and loving, but hard, fierce, and immediate.

“Desperate indeed-”

“Ridiculous, indeed, why the fuck are there so many buttons-”

Something gets ripped - you’re unsure if it’s your own clothing, or his, but don’t really care to investigate exactly how much you’ll be owing a local tailor, with long fingers skimming down your back, catching beneath the waistline of the tight pants you wore, with purpose, this evening, and going even further, until-

Freezing, your heavy-breaths are the only audible thing in the room before, with awe coloring his tone, “You’re not wearing anything underneath?” 

A chuckle reaches his ears, before you confirm with a second confession, “Haven’t for the last couple meetings.”

There's a growl to, appropriately, going along with the absolutely primal approach in which Silco works wrests you from your clothing, or at least just enough for more skin-to-skin contact - nails leaving lines against your skin clothing is pulled down to your thighs, shoving it further away with his palms before they find the curve of your ass again. The squeeze is nothing short of sinful, bordering on pain with the way nails bite into your skin as he gropes you with a pleased sigh, as if you in his lap, panting against his neck while he squeezes your ass, is more than enough for him.

But not enough for you, especially not when you hear the faint whine in his hiss when you suddenly nip at his throat, pulling back to admire the mark along his jugular, and speak.

“y…You done copping a feel? I’d like to get the rest of this off,” There’s one last, almost vengeful squeeze, before Silco eagerly drops his hand away, and you can’t waste anymore time. Not when too much has already passed. 

There’s a pleased chuckle, and arm slinging loosely at your waist when your own eagerness nearly lets you fall from the seat. You’re thankful enough for it as it keeps you mostly straddled to his lap as you wiggle and pull out of your jeans, growing hotter as Silco’s chin drops just enough for his eyes to begin memorizing every detail of your bare-flesh. Pupils are blown out to the point even his bright green eye is eclipsed, and you’re quickly forgetting the exact-shade of red his ruined eye holds by the time you rid yourself of your pants, and reach for the buttons of your shirt-

“Wait,” It’s no demand, but habit and instinct leaves you still. Fingers hesitate on your side, before they’re gliding upward, rising when your breath catches as they find the buttons of your shirt. You’re nodding with granting-permission before Silco even looks up to you to ask, and soon deft fingers are working away at opening you up more and more for his gaze, and his touch.

Your name comes out in a sighing prayer from his lips, with your own parting with a sigh of Silco’s as his hands cup at your chest. Far gentler than his earlier gripes - nearly tender, in a way that has your stomach twisting in familiar and strange ways for him - you arch your back when they find nipples, pinching in response to the roll of your hips as you settle into his lap.

“Sure it’s been a while? I-i can hardly even tell-” “Oh hush.”

You’re certain a button pops off with how quickly Silco reaches between you to unbutton the front of his pants - not before trailing his hand between the already-soaked lower lips between your thighs, letting out a deep sigh that mingles in the air with your own pleasure. Raising yourself just enough, you stare down parted, panting lips as long strokes are given to the shaft.

Preparation is appreciated, but quickly proven unnecessary after he lines himself up, with one hand gripping at the bunched-fabric of your shirt at your lower-back that twists it even tighter when you lower yourself onto him.

The stretch around him is better than you’ve ever been able to imagine (or attempt to replicate with your own fingers) and you need a moment to grip at his chest, nails biting into the exposed skin from what clothing you had managed to pry from his body. After a moment of heavy breathing, and simply reveling at how perfectly this man fills you, Silco’s own breath catches hard when you slide your hands up to cup behind his neck for support, before you raise yourself just enough to come down fully onto him.

You actually whine at the sensation, but that’s minor compared to the utterly feral noise that rumbles from Silco’s chest. Hips rock again, seeking and quickly finding the friction that has you curling fingers into the short hairs at the base of his skull, while claw-marks are being left along your skin as his face tucks into your shoulder with a growl of your name.

In total honesty, you hadn’t expected this, any of it. You had braced, trained yourself to walk out of this office in disappointment.

Based on the way he thrusts up to meet you next, leaving you seeing stars and his teeth leaving imprints on your shoulder from the way you clench and cry around him, you’re not sure if Silco’s going to let you be able to leave walking.

Almost frantically, a hand snakes down between your legs at the next errant, seeking thrusts he makes upwards as he holds you in a vice-like grip against his chest, and though it’s your own fingers that begin making tight, swift circles around your clit, you duck your head beneath Silco’s chin with a sob of his name on your lips as you ride.

His name seems to be the trigger that shoots him into you, and you almost still entirely when his first jet of release strikes deep inside, his own pleasure spent - rather swiftly - with a groan of your name rumbled directly into the skin he’s bitten down on in his release. Yours, despite the surprise of such a sudden climax, comes quickly as well as you rub yourself near-raw from the speed of your fingers, unable to resist creeping lower to feel the way you’re stretched around him -

The band snaps in your belly, and even with the softening cock within you, you can't resist sughing and whimpering with every twitch and writhe of yourself within his lap, unhindered, even by the iron bands of his arms around you tighten as you rock yourself through the rolling waves of your own climax. It's only when Silco's breath is whistling through his teeth between his rapid pants, does your fingers finally slide from your sensitive nub and you fall limp against Silco's chest, panting just as harshly as he is.

"... that... that was-"

"Quick." He interrupts you, but takes a second to catch his breath before continuing in a flat tone, "I'm aware. It..." There's a hesitation in his collected tone, and you raise your head up enough to catch sight of his ears, tinted in red.

"It's been a while?" You offered gently, nails returning to card through the back of his hair as he ducks his chin further down, and arms tighten around you at the sensation. He's caught you, and clearly doesn't plan to let go anytime soon - and you don't plan on leaving, a smile flickering on your face even as the mixture of slick between your legs begins to cool with the deep bite on your shoulder beginning to ache, all you can focus on is the way his breath catches as you gently scratch along that spot behind his ear.

Another gentle inhale of his collar, before your turning to press a kiss there. "It was perfect, better than I ever dreamt it would be," You leave another kiss in the time it takes for him to find his voice, and it's colored in faint astonishment, "How long?"

"Hm... I dunno, how long have I been working at The Last Drop?"

"Oh."

The chuckle slips out from you, though it fades into a slightly ticked-off sigh as you tug at the ends of greying-hairs in mock annoyance, "That's why I was tired of the little playing-dumb act. I know it's been a while," You didn't dare voice the sneaking suspicion that not only was it lack of recent-experience that kept Silco from admitting his feelings, but also the fact that the last several years hadn't been kind to him, nor his trust of others, explaining his earlier signs of conflicting. "But I... I didn't want to keep us waiting, Silco. I wanted to know it was something, that I wasn't alone in how I felt-"

"You aren't," Raising his head, Silco gives you a soft look, reaching up with a hand to sweep back the hairs laying ruffled and sweaty locks out of your face, pausing before moving close to brush his thin lips there. "You haven't been, not... not for some time."

"But you still kept me waiting."

There's a faint sigh against your skin, and an even fainter smile. "I have a feeling I will not be forgiven for that mistake anytime soon."

Ah, so maybe he isn't as much as a moron as you thought. Still, you only chuckle in response, kidding the bruise left at his neck from your earlier minstrations before burrowing your face into the crook of his shoulder, "Well, I suppose you're on your way to making it up for me." You admit, scratching once more behind his ear to hear his breath hitching, and the pleased hum that follows as you smile against his skin. "Letting me take charge was a good points in your favor."

"Ah, good to know." There's a pause, long and quiet.

It makes the gasp that's all but punched from you with the languishing roll of his hips all the more louder.

Hand tightens at your waist, while Silco's other arm moves to clear off the entirety of his desk with a single sweep of his arm. "However, it's come to my attention that while you have been rewarded for your paitence, there's been quite a bit that I myself have been considering for a very, very long time..."

The desk is hard against your back, but it's difficult to focus on as Silco lays you on-top of it's letting himself between your legs. It seems now that has you in-grasp, he loathes to let you go, as his hands smooth up along your thighs, before sneaking under to cup once more at your ass as he smirks down at you with so, so much promise.

"So, I believe it's my turn."

[sunshine-zenith]

In another round of Interesting Details Flouting Around Possibly Worthy Of Notice — Hunter’s hands

Other people have noticed this as well — Hunter grabs his hand after high fiving Gus and grabbed it earlier when it was shaking. The aren’t the only times attention was given to Hunter’s hands, though they’re the first ones I can remember off the top of my head. This, combined with the fact he’s Never shown without gloves in the show, has made people wonder if something is up with his hands — if he’s hiding scars or is missing fingers under his gloves or something

But outside the show…

These are by TOH’s crew, and while that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re canon — just because someone works on a show doesn’t mean they can’t have fun and make silly art, after all. The top two are very clearly non-canon from how Hunter is dressed — but consider for a moment this: the top two were drawn by Dana Terrace, the creator of the show, and even featured pretty consistent scarring that we haven’t seen on the show yet (Terrace draws Hunter with a scar on his left arm both times. The scar seems to be high enough on his arm that his short sleeve outfit could conceivably hide it), and the bottom one is a behind the scenes showcase of how Hunter almost looked in Labyrinth Runner. And the all show Hunter without noticeable scars or limb differences in his hands. And they show his hands at several different angles, too — front, back, palms up and down.

Again, these drawings aren’t canon, but they were either done by the person who created Hunter or were almost canon by almost appearing on the show. It’s possible Dana Terrace could be pulling an Alex Hirst and deceiving us with her art, but honestly that doesn’t seem like her MO. Likewise, it’s possible that the Hunter designs were discarded specifically because they showed his hands ungloved, but I’m pretty sure that given the focus on Hunter’s hands in the past, the designers would not be left in the dark when making alt outfits for him (and the derby outfit just held more narrative weight than if they made Hunter a new outfit completely)

So if Hunter doesn’t have anything visually different about his hands, why does the camera focus on them repeatedly and why hasn’t he appeared without gloves on the show yet?

Here’s a couple ideas:

A) they’re a way to show vulnerability and isolation

Hunter looks at his hands in almost confusion after high fiving Gus, and given how he didn’t understand being hugged later in the episode (and his overall isolation from other teens), he might not understand what a high five is. He might have even been startled by it, going off his reaction. And when his hand shook, it was after watching a stone bird crumble while he held it — he was probably thinking about Flapjack, whose life he has reason to worry about, given Belos’s stance on palismen

A lot of people start to shake from anxiety, fear, and exhaustion, too, and given Hunter’s trauma and implied sleep deprivation it isn’t surprising that he’d show physical signs of them

The TOH crew could also just be using gloves to symbolize being separated from the rest of the world, like how in Frozen they were used to symbolize hiding and lies. Given that Hunters arc includes him forming healthy relationships when he was abused and isolated in the past, there could be a huge Elsa moment coming up where he rips the gloves off for good

B) While Hunter might not have physical scars, his hands could still be damaged

Hands are incredibly sensitive, after all. They’re full of nerve endings and are pretty darn fragile all things considered. Hunter is a child soldier, and even though he was given a magic staff by Belos, it’s stated he didn’t get it until after he had become Golden Guard — he, as a non-magic child had to go through the same gruesome training teenage and adult witches had to. There’s also the fact that Belos is all but outright shown to physically abuse him.

Odds are he’s broken fingers or damaged nerves in the past, and while he’s shown to be pretty dexterous, he could still have flare ups of pain (something that could also be triggered by trauma) or might just not be able to physically feel things the way someone with undamaged might feel — they could be hypersensitive or numb and the gloves provide him with a layer of sensation dampening or could help him with his grip

The Owl House is not a show that shies away from disability in its main characters, metaphorically, fantastically, or literally — Eda’s curse is played completely one for one as a metaphor for chronic illness, and Luz is written as neurodivergent. Hunter is already written as someone with PTSD and anxiety, and his magic staffs could be seen as mobility aids. I could totally see TOH showcasing someone with an invisible disability by having a character have not-visibly different but still not completely abled hands

C) hands are a minor symbol for either the Emperor’s Coven, or for the abuse Hunter has endured. Specifically humanoid vs non-humanoid hands

We’ve seen Belos grip Hunter’s shoulder tight enough to at least be comfortable while Belos’s was, essentially, falling apart.

Belos has also struck walls in front of Hunter hard enough to crack them while Hunter turned away, and even nearly cut Hunter’s face, while in similar gooped up states

And while Hunter isn’t exactly popular in the Emperor’s Coven, Kikimora is debatably the one in the coven who hates him the most, even trying to outright kill him at points, and her entire thing is being a hand demon

Lastly, Darius

Don’t lie, for a second we all thought Darius was gonna strike Hunter here with his abomination arm, Hunter especially — he visibly braces himself — before gently donking him on the head instead.

While Darius, as a Coven Head, technically isn’t part of the Emperor’s Coven, he’s still part of Belos’s inner circle. Darius in second went from being just another adult who mistreated Hunter to being one of Hunter’s biggest allies and positive parental figures. And it’s visually shown in how his hand went from a monster’s to humanoid’s

While not every character with inhuman hands is evil on this show, the focus on Hunter’s hands vs his enemies and allies could just be simple visual contrast.

D) it could be foreshadowing to a future injury

Granted, I don’t have as much evidence for this one, so it’s just speculation, but like. The audience’s attention is only drawn to Hunter’s hands because it’s meant to be on Hunter’s hands. What if what we’re supposed to take notice of is the fact that Hunter’s hands, though hidden by gloves, are what you expect from hands — unscarred, unhurt, and paired off. Hunter currently has a bounty on his head, after all. Him being killed off just feels kinda unlikely, but I can see him being injured, maybe with a gory discretion shot (not gonna name the show, but we do know Disney is willing to go there)

Maybe a scene of Hunter without his gloves to really bring the audience’s focus in, followed by him being hurt or even losing a hand

What do y’all think?

[lamnwar]

Dragon Girl // Aomine x Fem! Reader

18+ MDNI!

A/N: my friend and I talked about how intimate it is to get a tattoo so we figured that I should write about it so that's me doing myself a favour here 😩 I ended up with 3.9k words so you can tell that I got pretty inspired lmao

Context: in which Aomine is a tattoo artist and you go to his parlour to get your new tattoo. All characters are 20+ years old, for plot's sake.

Warnings: heavy flirting, some fondling, lots of tits (I love boobs, what to do 🥲), just overall a LOT of sexual tension, slight mention of a pain kink, mention of needles

If your mother knows where you are, at this particular time of the day, she will probably lose her mind. Well, this is not your first tattoo, at this point, it's only fair to expect her to be ok with your skin being inked. But still, the thought of her sweet daughter getting her beautiful skin permanently stamped is hard for her.

But hey, you are an adult now and no one has forced you to be there, so there is no issue whatsoever with what is about to happen.

And of that, you are deeply convinced. You've booked your appointment at this new tattoo parlour two weeks ago, after a friend of yours recommended it to you.

"You'll see, Aomine is really fucking good!"

You checked the tattoo parlour socials before hands, to make sure to that the artist fitted your needs and once you had your mind set, you immediately contacted him. So, it is no mishaps of life that you are here, today, at this time of the day. The last appointment, because to quote the tattoo artist, “that’s one hell of a piece you're asking from me". When you first read that message, you were a bit confused. You couldn't quite tell what his personality was. Yet, you've known quite a few tattoo artists before; you are well aware that like most creative minds, they're naturally hard to read. But that Aomine guy? He was a real intrigue. He seemed cold, yet nice, passionate, but detached from his work. This deeply intrigued you, which further convinced you that you have made the right choice for this tattoo.

You are now waiting for him to finish with his previous client, while his colleague has you fill some mandatory paperwork. Once you've filled the papers, you sit down on the leather chair, looking at the catalogue of his artwork. His style and stroke are what attracted you first. You could have easily gone to your previous tattoo artist for this one, but you figured that you should try something new. Besides, you are about to get an important piece, so you only want it to be done by the best suited artist for the work. For what you can see in his catalogue, he's indeed talented; his tattoos are detailed and beautifully designed, transplanted on the skin in a way that makes them look like they've always been there. You almost let out a sound of fascination before these images, but you keep your mouth shut, as you hear a deep voice talking. You eye up, seeing him for the first time. 

Aomine Daiki, the tattoo artist that you so much want to work with. 

Once you assimilate the image that is in front of you, you can't help but blush. See, he's only posted his artwork on social media, so up til now, you had no idea what he looked like. By experience, you expected him to have an alternative look, but you surely did not expect that. His large frame is the first thing that catches your eyes – he is not only tall, but you can also easily tell that he is of the muscular type, like an athlete of some sorts. However, what actually keeps you looking like you've uncovered the world's eighth wonder, is his face. His sharp traits are beautifully drawn, deep blue eyes that glimmer from the most intense light, gorgeous lips and nose, all working in perfect proportions.

"Dragon Girl?" You hear him call for you, referring to the tattoo that you are here for.

You mentally cuss as you gather your composure. From a hand gesture, he calls you to the reception desk and you get up.

"That would be me" you smile.

"So, first time we're working together, right?"

His nonchalance strikes you, as you suddenly understand why you had that weird feeling reading his messages. Nonchalance doesn't digitally translate, and now that you see it with your own eyes, he suddenly makes sense. You can't tell if that makes him more attractive or not, for you've never really met a person like that before.

"Yeah, first time with you" you reply.

He smiles, taking you by surprise. It isn't a simple smile; it is an arrogant one. And you can only wonder why your interaction feeds his ego like that.

"How come?"

"I always go to different artists, looking for the best one, you know, for what I want."

"You're in the right place then, I am the best at what I do."

"Let me be the judge of that" you say, getting a chuckle out of him.

He then invites you to follow him to the room where he gets the work done, and you silently do so. As you enter the room, you look around. More pictures of his work is plastered on the walls, as well as doodles. You keep your fascination for yourself, but deep down you feel like you've entered a museum.

"Alright, I would usually explain how this whole thing goes but it's not your first tattoo, so I'll go straight to it, that's fine with you?"

You nod your head, mentally asking yourself why you haven't voiced out your answer rather.

"Good" he says.

You follow his movements as he puts on his gloves and gets the stencil.

"Where is it again?"

"Uh... the sternum" you point out to your chest.

"I'll need you to either lift you shirt up or remove it, whatever makes you more comfortable. Same thing if you're wearing a bra, just lift it up a bit so I can have easy access to the area."

You take a couple of seconds to understand his words, almost like he is speaking a foreign language. Truth be told, you have been so distracted by this man that you've almost forgot why you are here. And now that you realize that you are about to get a dragon tattooed between your breasts, you feel your brain overflow with thoughts of all kinds. Most of them focussing on the fact that Aomine will be the one to ink you, on one of the most sensitive parts of your body. You start to regret your choice; maybe you should have gone to your previous tattoo artist, someone you are already comfortable with and who isn't so hot that the thought of them being in contact with your chest makes your hormones go crazy.

"Hey, are you ok?"

Aomine's voice brings you back to Earth and you realize that it is too late to chicken out. Besides, the design he made for this tattoo is truly marvellous and fits exactly what you envisioned for yourself, so you truly don't want anyone else to do the job.

"Oh, sorry I blanked" you let out in a small laugh.

The blue-haired man looks at you for a short while before also huffing out a laugh. Some part of you is embarrassed that you can't behave normally in his presence. That is not like you, you're generally more in control of the situation when you are facing someone attractive. But you shouldn't overthink this, if you want this whole experience to go well, the best you can do is empty your head and be your normal self.

"So... can I put the stencil?"

"Yeah, yeah! My bad" you apologize.

Taking a heavy breath, you get rid of your shirt and does as he instructs, lifting your bra up so he has access to the area. You stare in silence while he positions the piece of paper against your skin, making sure that it is straight and perfectly symmetric. His hands are big but his touch is delicate, almost sending shivers down your spine.

"Is that ok?" He asks.

You turn around to look in the mirror behind you, and observe the drawing on your skin. For a moment, you are absolutely speechless. Seeing it on you is an unsettling sight, the change being the hardest thing to process. The virgin skin of your chest being marked so beautifully – the dragon head in the valley of your breast, its wings cupping them – it is a lot to take in. But once you do, you have to smile.

"That's perfect" you say.

"Alright, let's get into it" Aomine pats the chair for you, and you get installed.

You patiently wait for him to get his needle ready, and when you hear the familiar vibration, you take in a big breath. This isn't your first tattoo, but you know that it is going to be a painful one.

"Why a dragon?" He asks.

You look at your chest. Aomine's face is hovering above it, while his hands start the job. As he speaks those words, his breath falls on your skin, slight goosebumps appearing on it. You gulp, trying to remain calm.

"It's uh... my favourite animal" you let out. "Well, mystical animal, I've been obsessed with them since I'm a kid."

"And why the sternum?"

The question makes you blush as you think about the answer. It is quite an unconventional one, and you ponder if you should lie about it. But with no lie coming to your mind, you settle for the truth.

"It's kinda stupid" you start, "but my friend said I should get it there so my nickname could be 'Dragon Tits'. I kinda liked it so here we are."

You close your eyes, anticipating Aomine's reaction. You expect his full judgement on it, given that it’s not the most meaningful or logical reason for you to get tattooed there. Your eyes open again when you feel him laugh. You automatically assume that he is making fun of you, which makes you regret telling the truth.

"'Dragon Tits' has a nice ring to it" he comments, "I gotta say, though, 'Dragon Girl' is what I'd prefer for you."

"Well, you called me that earlier, didn't you?"

"You didn't like it?"

You are surprised by the question, not to mention that you don't have an answer to it. You go back in your memories of minutes earlier, trying to figure out how this nickname made you feel on the moment. Truth be told, you were too hypnotized by your tattoo artist's appearance to focus on his words.

"I... I didn't hate it."

"So should I keep referring to you as this from now on?"

"I don't know, is there any situation where you can do that?"

"Yeah, next time we meet. I'll just call out 'Dragon Girl!' and you'll know that it's you."

"Then sure, I guess it works."

He laughs gently, the air coming out of his mouth tickling your skin. You squeal, eyes opening wide when you realize what kind of noise just got out of your mouth. By reflex, you almost cover your mouth with your hand, but you can't do that as your hands are holding your breasts out of the needle's way.

"Is it painful?"

"I'm... uh, no. I mean yes, but I'm fine with it."

You aren't very proud of that answer, given that it doesn't make much sense. Yet here you are trying to act like your whole behaviour isn't that weird.

"It's fine, ya know, if it hurts. You don't have to suffer in silence."

"Who tells you I'm suffering?"

Is it your ego speaking there or are you genuinely convinced that feeling pain isn't such an inconvenience to you?

Aomine raises an eyebrow at you, a sly smile appearing on his lips.

"Alright, I see you Dragon Girl. In all cases, I'm fine with whatever unholy sounds that may come out of that pretty mouth."

You stare at him, confused. What is he understanding of your words? At this point, most of your interaction seems like he's reading between your lines and that you yourself aren't aware of the double meaning of your sentences. But as you think about it, it strikes you. From the very beginning, you have given him opportunities to interpret your words in a way that puts you in an interesting place.

All along, you've been unknowingly flirting with him. Subconsciously, you've always known that your words and demeanour carried a double meaning. So, when you innocently look at him with batting your eyelashes, it is in fact not that innocent. Is it that you automatically switch on the flirting mode because of how attractive he is? Certainly, you were just too busy all this time being overwhelmed by the situation to realize that you've been adding oil to the fire.

And now that you understand, you figure that there is only one thing you can do: wholeheartedly flirt with your hot ass tattoo artist.

"Say Aomine, why did you accept to do that job for me?"

"I liked your pitch" he replies, concentrating on your tattoo.

"What, the design I wanted or the fact that I was getting a chest tattoo?"

You look at him, anticipating his reaction. Eyes still attached to your skin, he nonchalantly lets out his answer:

"Both. The dragon in itself is pretty badass but on your chest... not gonna lie, that's hot."

"So you're having fun?"

Your tone is full of candour, enough to fool anybody into thinking that you have no intent by asking this question. However, Aomine is not dupe.

"Aren't you enjoying yourself, Dragon Girl?"

"I'm certainly not bored."

He suddenly straightens his position, the needle leaving your skin. Your eyes travel from his wrist that he stretches, to these deep blue eyes that are looking at you with malice.

"I'm half done. Are you ready for the rest?"

You smile, tightening your grip on your chest.

"I am."

Next thing you know, he is back to his previous position, leaning into your chest, breathing against your skin as the buzzing of the needle gets to your ears. Except this time, something is different.

His large hand is holding your underboob, pushing the flesh away from the surface that he is working on.

You inhale. Your fingers are touching his, and you slowly lose your grip on the slippery fabric of your bra. You panic, but before you can even get your grip back, Aomine expands his hand to almost cup your entire breast for you.

"Fuck" you mutter, incapable of keeping yourself silent.

"I heard that."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let that out."

"I told you, I don't mind whatever sound you make."

You want to reply, but you fail to. Your thoughts are blurred by that bloody hand on your chest, fully pushing away your flesh while simultaneously lifting your bra further up; this is the one thing you have to do, but you can't do it properly, so Aomine takes it upon himself to make his job easier.

Things only get worse when you feel your nipples harden against the fabric of your bra. You can only blame yourself for not wearing something thicker - you knew very well that they were risks at getting a chest tattoo, you could have done better. What is really nerve-wracking, is that you are incapable of knowing if it is the attractive bluette's hand on your breast that puts you in this situation, or if it's the needle grazing against your thin skin, almost poking the bones underneath.

You should have known by now, a couple of tattoos down, that pain can get you in such state. This time, however, is different from the previous one, and you assume rightfully that Aomine is the reason why you are reacting like that to pain. Before, that feeling that you'd get would be a simple pleasure that you would consciencely inflict upon yourself. But this time...

"Holy..." you almost cuss out.

"Let it out, Dragon Girl, you can."

"I won't" you manage to say while holding in the other sounds that threaten get out, "s'too embarrassing."

Aomine chuckles, his deep voice echoing against you.

"You don't have to worry about it, I think at this point we are well acquainted enough."

He briefly looks up at you, that same smile full of pride on his face. This time, you aren't clueless to what makes him so delighted, because you are fully aware of what is going on. You exhale, deciding that you should take control of the situation.

Enough is enough. If you don't act right now, you are going to be at his mercy by the end of whatever is happening at this moment.

Your hand that has lost its job regains its grip on your chest, your fingers snaking to reach his, pushing them away from your hard nipple. The look he gives you translates his thoughts: what the hell are you doing?

For a short second, Aomine panics. Has he made you uncomfortable? Has he crossed a line? For the first time, you seem to have the upper hand. He straightens up again, not to stretch this time, but to regain his composure.

As he's about to remove his hand from your chest, you wrap your fingers around his palm, holding him down again you. He raises an eyebrow. Things have just taken an unexpected turn. He watches as you not so subtly make his fingers graze against the thin fabric of your bra, feeling all of you under it. You breath, your chest raising up and fall down against his hand.

"Can I hold your hand?" you ask with that innocent tone to you've perfected, "that way I'll hold it tighter instead of making a sound."

Aomine remains silent for a while, his face inexpressive. You can't read him, but you remain confident. There is no reason for your little fun to stop here, on the contrary, you are giving him a window here.

"For you, Dragon Girl, I won't say no."

Again, his tone is controlled, and you are genuinely in awe of the way he keeps his composure so easily. The thing about you is that you enjoy breaking men, you enjoy doing or saying the right thing that has them to your feet. But Aomine might be the first real challenge you encounter. Up till now, he's actually the one that's been making you weak. For the past almost hour, you've been nothing but a passive player.

That's not how things are supposed to be, that is not fun to you. So, you resolve yourself, by the time he'll be done with your tattoo, he'll be at your knees.

When he leans back to reprise his work, your hold on his hand doesn't change. Your full breast is in his big palm, and you amuse yourself by gently forcing his grip to get tighter. He doesn't react, although he is practically fondling you. He is still concentrated on your tattoo, tracing the lines meticulously. You get his finger to graze your nipples multiple times, he still doesn't budge. The task is more complicated than expect, but you don't want to give up yet.

With your over hand, you lift your bra further up. At this point, most of your chest is bare. You prepare yourself to use the excuse that you've done so for practical reason, since he is about to work the area under your other breast; but Aomine doesn't ask any question. However, when he feels more of your soft skin under his hand, his breath gets heavier. You contain your smile. He is so close to you that a single micro expression can be seen from the corner of the eye. You shouldn't show yourself to be too amused by the situation, that would go against your plan. If anyone asks, all your moves a free of intent.

In the meantime, Aomine's thoughts start to get messy. He's almost broken his composure, and that isn't a good thing. All along, he's been fighting to keep the upper hand. Hell, he isn't one to break for a girl, no matter how pretty she is. But then you've come in, looking at him with doe eyes and smiling at him so sweetly; and when you've revealed your gorgeous gorgeous tits to him in that thin, almost useless bra, and then you've spoken words acting like you didn't know their underlying meaning.

All you've done, since the beginning, has been torturing him. It requires incredible mental strength not get hard right now. And the worst part of this, is that you've lead him to believe that he was in control of the situation up till now. But here you are, pulling the strings.

The last straw has to be you making his hand touch you in all the ways you want to, and he cannot do anything about it. He has a job to finish, and he can't let those malicious fingers, nor these soft whimpers progressively escaping your mouth, be a distraction. He is aware of how much left he has to do, and it asks all of him to contain himself.

No girl, no matter how pretty she is, has ever drove Aomine Daiki crazy like that.

And what doesn't help either, is that he cannot rush his work, so he can finally take back the upper hand. No, he has to wait the whole time for him to do things properly. He is generally of the impatient nature, but given his area of work, he's had to learn how to take his time. He is smart, he understands the situation and what it is asking of him.

For the time remaining, he'll let you enjoy yourself. He'll let you toy with his hand, making him fondle you as you wish. But once he is done with your tattoo...

You are completely oblivious to the schemes happening in the blue-haired guy's head. For all you know, you are finally having fun. It's not just him destabilizing you anymore, you are finally getting something out of it that satisfies you enough. You take your win, so naively thinking that the game will end with you as the ultimate victor.

But soon enough, your teasing game has to end. The buzzing of the needle stops, and Aomine's hand leaves yours to grab a tissue and wipe the excess of ink away. You are almost disappointed that the moment is over, but it occurs to you to you were originally here for a tattoo.

"Go on Dragon Girl, see how it looks" says Aomine.

You get up and walk toward the mirror. You take in your appearance; with no context, you could easily be mistaken by someone that just got properly fucked. You look at your skin, admiring the magnificent dragon that is now permanently part of you. You stare for seconds that feel like minutes, obsessed with the new addition to your collection of tattoos. What takes you out of your trance is the figure that appears behind you.

You meet Aomine's eyes in the mirror, his face still so perfectly indifferent. You smile, hands finally leaving your chest.

"It's gorgeous Aomine, thank y-"

"Don't thank me yet Dragon Girl, I'm not done with you."

You are taken aback by his firm voice. You watch him in the mirror, as he moves again. He removes his gloves, then appears behind you again. You stare, silently, anticipating his next move. When you feel him pressed to your back, his hands confidently grabbing your breasts, you fail to contain the gasp that escapes your lips. He pulls you closer, his face reaching your ear. He looks at you in the mirror.

What a beautiful sight, your red cheeks, your lips agape, and those gorgeous gorgeous tits in his hands.

Once again, that smile that you have come to know appears on his face. And he leans in. That is when it hits you, that you are absolutely fucked.

"I'll help you with the aftercare now."

[lunaekalenda]

j, l, w for jjk boys (or if only taking singular character questions then nanami) please😇

suree thanks for requesting!!

nanami, gojo, megumi, yuuji, geto, toge,

J -> Jealousy: Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Nanami -> doesn't get really really jealous, but maybe a little. he would be extra touchy with you, hands on your lower back and hands tangled just to make sure you're not gonna leave him. just in case.

Gojo -> not jealous, but a drama king. loves to make drama, even if he isn't even a bit jealous. just stopping in the middle of the shop and saying "You got lost on their eyes, you don't look at me like that anymore." while you buy him a coffee and talk with the dependant is probably one of the things he's most proud of.

Megumi -> gets a little jealous, but won't admit it. he'll just relax and convince himself it was nothing, and he'll just keep going as if nothing happened. boy auto-convenciment power skills are high.

Yuuji -> gets a little jealous and gets extra clingy. he just wants attention, and your attention. he'll ask for kisses, hugs, holding hands and taking pics. you know exactly the moment he gets jealous just of how his hand searches yours, quietly but fast.

Geto -> why would he get jealous? he knows you're deeply in love with him as he is with you. also, adult geto lowkey thinks it's impossible to find someone to dump him for.

Toge -> he'll pout a little under his jacket neck, but fastly recover when you smile at him again, because he knows that smile appeara only for him.

L -> Love Confession: How would they confess to their s/o?

Nanami -> simply, directly and probably with a letter where you can mark your decision.

Gojo -> the loudest way he can. flowers, music, yelling at you on a train station or leaving you a note at work. he wants to mane sure you know his feelings are no joke if he was capable of doing all those things just to confess.

Megumi -> blushed and direct. he wants your answer as soon as possible to end his suffering. and his shyness.

Yuuji -> blushed, probably fast, probably mixing words and getting all nervous. the cutest.

Geto -> just a quick "i like you" when he accompanies you home after uni or work. leaving with hands on his pockets and a side smile, winking an eye at you.

Toge -> he'll just say "salmon", get shy and write it down on a paper with trembling letter and a cute blushed face drawn.

W -> Wild Card: Random fluff headcanon.

Nanami -> if you fall asleep on top of him, he won't move, and he doesn't care if he has to stay in the most incomfortable position for hours. he'll let you sleep and he'll keep caressing your hair until you wake up.

Gojo -> acts all goofy, but reminds you every single day how much you mean to him, on a serious way. text messages, calls, pillow talks or notes are his ways to remember you how much he loves you.

Megumi -> he was so nervous to kiss you for the first time that he has almost forgot how it was. luckily, you took him to the same place, same clothes and same hour, to recreate it, so he won't forget.

Yuuji -> talks a lot about things he likes and gets all shy when he realizes how much he has been talking. but when you tell him to continue, his eyes shine with pure joy as he keeps telling you all the things that he loves.

Geto -> admires you doing whatever you're doing, always with a soft smile on his lips as he thinks what did he do to deserve someone so good for him.

Toge -> he likes to prepare picnics and enjoy the good days outside with you, resting his head on your legs as your hands shyly trace his cheek tattoos.

[aecu]

cnc w markie <3 👼🏻❤️‍🩹☁️

*note: while it’s not directly stated in the story, this scene is something that was agreed upon by mark and the reader. cnc is fully consensual between two adults and is not rape. if this isn’t something you’re into, please do not read it. not proofread

mark pulls you up against him, grinding your clothed center against his bulge and running bitey kisses up and down your neck. you feel a firm grip on your neck guide you away from mark’s lips before meeting his stern gaze.

“i hope you know i plan to fuck you stupid whether you like it or not, and you’re gonna take every last drop because you’re mine to use whenever i feel like it. understood?” mark questions. his tone has you soaking through your shorts and onto the rough denim of his jeans.

“no, please,” you beg. you know it doesn’t make any sense. it’s a desperate plea, one that leaves your mouth with no intention besides getting him inside you soon.

“is it no or please? already acting stupid and i haven’t even got my cock in you yet. you say no like you don’t want me yet beg like a slut for me to fuck you. maybe i should check inside those shorts for the answer, hm?” the words leave his voice in a condescending tone that has your cunt clenching around nothing but air. mark doesn’t give you much time before he’s got you pinned on the couch, his fingers working nimbly to tug your shorts aside. he expects to find your panties, ruined with slick and instead finds the cloth of your shorts glossed over and sticking to your cunt. a chuckle escapes his lips while he runs the tip of his pointer finger against your hole.

“for someone who was begging me not to fuck them, you sure look ready to take whatever i’ve got for you,” he tuts. your hips buck up as you struggle against his touch and his hands come up to push your thighs back against your stomach, effectively immobilizing you.

“i told you i wasn’t gonna go easy on you, don’t try and run from it now.” a sharp whine leaves your lips at the statement and mark uses your subdued state to pull his cock out through his fly, so that no more than his shaft is exposed.

the first probe of him against your hole had you jumping. the second, along with the burning sensation that followed, caused you to let out a loud, drawn out moan. he wastes no time getting to work, his pace quick and deep without fault.

“look at you, so fucking wet my cock keeps slipping out of you. all warm and tight just for me, could fuck this pussy all day,” he grunts. his hand slides up to wrap around your neck, orienting you to look at him and it doesn’t take much more than that to get him close to cumming deep inside you. he loves this. the teary, almost fearful look on your face as he fucks into you without a care in the world. he loves the slight resistance you give him even though you want nothing more than to let him absolutely ravish you.

as the spurts of his cum coat your walls, he can only wonder where he might use this newfound kink on you next.

[sleepysnk]

a/n: wow, okay, so this was crazy and i’m shocked that i wrote this much? and for an underrated king? 😭 i hope this does not flop. i also hope you guys enjoy! 🤍

pairings: pain x fem!reader

warnings: modern au, nsfw, smut, twitter porn star!pain, mentions of f+m! masturbation, oral sex m!receiving, praising, slight degradation, cum swallowing, very light throat fucking, mentions of spit, brief fluff.

Tender is the Flesh ft. Pain

Not safe for work Twitter.

One could call that side of Twitter the PornHub of social media. The content inside of the hashtag is nothing but clean, and many people find themselves indulging in the many pictures or videos inside of it. Some people have chosen to use the platform to promote OnlyFans, which allows them to be paid for their adult content.

While it can be used for promotion, some people use it for more of their own desires. 

Anything could be found inside of the tag ‘nsfwtwt.’ Whether it be videos of women fingering themselves to the idea of being filled by a nice cock, or guys posting videos of themselves jerking off; the place was an absolute gold mine of different content. People often made accounts to post about their many fantasies, or kinks they desired to try out. 

With these accounts being made, the attention came along with it. It didn’t matter if you were a female or a male, people gave out attention like it was money. Sometimes, people went as far as paying for personalized photos of the creator playing with their sweet cunt or a picture of a guy cumming on his stomach to the thought of fucking the follower. For some, that was their full time job. There wasn’t any judgment in any context. 

It didn’t matter if your kink was dark or hardcore. There were people out in the world that found anything to be erotic. It was comforting, but the space often had many weirdos. 

Some people never understood the concept of crossing boundaries. Just because someone shared photos of themselves nude on the internet didn’t mean that the person on the other side had the right to send dick pictures or nudes of themselves. It was a common issue expressed by many accounts, whether the creator was big or small. The person behind those weird accounts were usually some old pervert who had nothing better to do with his time.

Another thing that went into the porn accounts was anonymity. There were a few creators that showed their faces, but many chose to keep their identities private. This was due to the possibility of someone seeing this person in real life, and there was that chance that person could be harmed by someone else. They also bore the risk of someone they know finding out about the account. It was dangerous, so being anonymous was the best option.

In short, there were only a handful of content creators that actually showed their identities. 

One of those creators was a young man. 

He went by the name of Pain, and he was one of the popular creators. He wasn’t big compared to some people, but he had a very decent following of about twenty-five thousand. Pain grew quicker than he imagined, but he wasn’t complaining at all. People followed who they liked, and he was glad to be one of them.

Pain was almost every person’s fantasy. He fit the edgy, emo boy everyone adored. He had hair the color of apricots, a well toned and fit body, and these eyes that could make anyone’s knees weak. His style kept people drawn to him. He had these piercings in both his ears and on his face that people always talked about. Jewelry was something he was definitely a fan of, and there were even a handful of his followers that went out to get similar piercings. 

Not only were his looks a plus, but his cock was magnificent. 

Recently, Pain has received a lot of his attention for what he did to his dick. He ended up revealing that he pierced the base of his shaft. Many people were shocked, and the reactions were mixed. Some thought it was an absolutely daring and exciting idea, while some said he was weird and clowned him for doing what he did. Though, he didn’t care at all. He did it for himself, and he didn’t need anybody else’s approval.

Pain had a lot of fans. It wasn’t exactly a secret. He interacted with plenty of people on Twitter. It didn’t matter if they were a nsfw account or not, he would retweet anything he thought to be attractive onto his account. The fan love didn’t just start at the retweets. There were also his direct messages which were filled with conversations he shared with his followers.

Whether he was rating some girl and her tits, or simply accepting a compliment, he had tons of direct messages. They were all full of love, or, occasionally, he’d have that one hater that would tell him he was ugly or weird. Pain would usually respond with something cocky. Usually along the lines of “you’re just mad your girl wants to suck me off,” or “ok? you still stalk me tho.”

He had many fans, and you were one of them.

You first discovered Pain’s account just a month after you made your Twitter. You actually saw one of your mutuals retweet his video, and, ever since, you were obsessed with the orange-haired man. 

You were very attracted to his vibe. He gave off this aura that was mysterious and intimidating. You also liked his piercings and his sense of fashion. You never saw a guy like him before, and he honestly gave you butterflies. Almost instantly, you followed his account. You practically went through his entire page to see what other content he had, and you weren’t disappointed in the slightest.

Pain had many videos which included him shirtless, leaning back against his chair with his cock in his hand. He made sure the audio was on, and his voice is what made your cheeks burn. It was so deep, it made your core light on fire from how erotic he sounded. 

There were many nights where you buried your fingers inside of your cunt to the sound of his voice. You imagined Pain was on top, shoving his pierced cock into your hole to stretch you to your limit. You often reached your orgasm when he whispered how much of a good little slut you were for taking his cock so well. He had no idea that he made you feel that way, and he probably never would.

You often interacted with his posts as much as you could. Though, you were aware of limits, and you made sure to not come off as some weirdo who pleaded for his attention. You sometimes retweeted his videos, or hearted his tweets whenever he posted. You supported him in small ways that made you feel good.

Pain rarely followed many people back. Out of his twenty-five thousand followers, he only followed about thirty accounts. You couldn’t necessarily blame him. Following random people could bring in the wrong energy, and you didn’t always know the faces behind the screens. For all he knew, there could have been a weird old man stalking his account. 

On several occasions, you found yourself daydreaming on what it’d be like to have Pain follow you back. Would he message you? Did he make bonds with his fans? So many questions, but you never had a resolve for any of them.

Him following you was just a dream that you knew would never become a reality.

-

Your body was awoken to the sound of your phone buzzing against the table beside your bed. It had to be somewhat early, but you didn’t mind it at all one bit. You honestly had many things to take care of throughout the day, so getting an early start would really help you in getting all of those tasks done.

Peeling your eyes open, you reached forward to grab your cell phone off of the table. Your phone screen lit up instantly, the time displaying that it was ten thirty in the morning. You hadn’t gone to bed super late the night before, but you honestly wanted to sleep longer realizing the time.

Though, you had many responsibilities, and not getting them done would pile on even more things you needed to do. 

You let out a sigh, beginning to scroll through the few notifications you had received throughout the night. Some of them were messages from your friends, and others were from the apps you used which reminded you to always have some positive vibes floating around you. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. You were used to it at this point. 

Pressing on your Twitter notifications, you noticed you had a few tweets that had gotten likes. It didn’t seem unusual until your eyes landed on one message that made you look twice.

@pxinxx liked your tweet!

@pxinxx started following you.

Your heart began to thump vigorously against your chest when you saw the words on your screen. Instantly, you sat up in your bed to check your Twitter. You weren’t expecting it, but Pain had actually followed you back. He actually liked one of your tweets. You honestly felt a huge rush of emotions. What were you supposed to feel? You honestly didn’t have a single damn clue about it.

For several minutes, you refreshed your Twitter feed to see if this was possibly a dream. You didn’t think he’d ever follow you back. It made you wonder what made him take interest in you. Pain was a guy that was unknown. His emotions and intentions were never that clear, so this move made you question a lot of things. Did he think you were attractive? Was he annoyed by your random likes? It was itching at your brain to figure out what it was.

Deep down, you hoped that maybe he’d send you a message. However, that possibility seemed really low. What would be the chance of Pain of all people sending you a direct message? He probably had tons of people in his inbox wanting his attention. You were just some fan he followed.

You brushed the thought aside, and decided to continue on with what you needed to do.

Sitting up in your bed, you removed your blankets off of your lower half. The sun from the outside was peeking through the beige curtains that hung over your window. You could tell the day was beautiful. The birds were even chirping louder than usual, so that was a great sign that the weather was great.

You turned your body to place your feet on the carpeting below you. You stood up, cracking and stretching a few joints that needed to be fixed up. It was very satisfying to you. 

You placed your cell phone inside of the pocket in your pajama shorts. You then walked towards the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. You figured you’d fix up your hair and find a decent outfit before you left to do your errands for the day. There was a side of you that wanted to do some light makeup, but it would take such a long time. The afternoon was already nearing, and you really didn’t want to spend the entire day out and about.

Shutting the door to the bathroom, you started your basic morning routine. Brushing your teeth, washing your face, fixing your hair the best you could, etc. You also made sure to do your business as per usual. It didn’t take you very long to do anyway. 

As you finished washing your hands, you placed your phone on the bathroom counter to check your notifications. What you saw was extremely unexpected, and you almost dropped the towel in your hands. Being honest, you practically almost fell to the floor when your eyes scanned over the message.

@pxinxx: hey :)

There was no way, there was no fucking way.

You practically shoved the baby blue towel back onto the counter the second your hands were dry. You didn’t know what to feel, but you were very nervous. Pain actually sent you a message. What the fuck were the odds that this would happen to you? You felt really lucky, but you also felt freaked out because you didn’t know what to respond with.

He was intimidating, my god, he was so intimidating. In some aspects, Pain looked extremely difficult to approach. After all, you had seen his face multiple times, and, not to mention, his kink list was enough to make you cower in your shorts. Pain was a guy who kept himself very serious, and his humor was hard to laugh at sometimes.

You stared at the message for so long that you didn’t even realize how much time had gone by. You had been standing there like a complete mess for almost ten minutes. You didn’t want to ignore his message, but you were scared with a response. What if Pain thought you were weird? What if he didn’t like how you talked to him? What if he blocks you? Fuck! This was so difficult to deal with. How come he had to message you now?

You decided to send something quick back. It was simple, and it wasn’t weird. Well.. hopefully it wasn’t weird to Pain.

You: hi! <3

Your hands were trembling and you honestly couldn’t think about anything else. There was still a side of you that believed this was all a dream, and, somehow, you’d wake up and the messages would have disappeared. However, that didn’t seem like the case. It would have been an amazing dream though.

Two minutes..

Five Minutes..

Almost ten minutes went by since you responded. You were honestly losing your mind as you paced around your apartment. Every couple of seconds you checked his profile to see if he was still following you, and he was. You didn’t want to make a move or anything until he replied to you. This was practically eating you up inside. 

It wasn’t the fact that Pain was this big guy, but it was the whole reality that he was this scary guy on the internet. Sure, he often came off as nice, but you didn’t know who he was in private. What if he was some weird asshole who was fooling everyone? Appearances could be deceiving and he was no different. 

Ping!

The sound of your phone going off practically sent you into a frenzy while you reached for it on your bed. Your eyes lit up once you saw that it was a Twitter notification. Pain had replied to you, and your heart practically stopped once you realized that it was him. 

Pain: what’s up? what are you up to? 

Honestly, you didn’t know what to say to him. What were you supposed to say? You were waiting for a reply from him? He’d definitely call you a weirdo after that. Plus, what if you responded too fast? Pain would surely catch on to the idea that you were sitting by the phone for his text message. The last thing you’d want is to imply that you were in need of his attention. He would for sure block you if that were the case. 

God, this was so stressful.

You had to come up with something. If you didn’t respond eventually, Pain could get the vibe that you weren’t interested in talking with him. Being truthful, you did want to speak to Pain. You just didn’t know how to, and that was the difficult part. 

Taking a deep breath, you began to type a reply back to Pain. You kept the message short and sweet. 

You: not much, just laying down. how about you?

Just as you were about to turn your phone off and toss it away to scream into your pillow, you noticed that Pain had already begun typing on the other end. That meant he had read your message as soon as you replied. It barely sent seconds prior, so that fact took you by major surprise. He never seemed like the type of guy that’d respond to someone that quick. However, you didn’t mind that at all. Fast replies were honestly the way to please you. 

He took a little while as he typed his response. The chat bubble disappeared and reappeared many times. It honestly gave you some serious anxiety. It made you wonder what he’d tell you. Oh god, what if Pain asked you for nudes? No, no, you couldn’t think he was like that. You two barely connected just a few minutes ago. There was no possible way he’d be that much of a weirdo with some random person. If he was, you’d have some major issues. Pain would also possibly lose one of his mutuals/fans. Deep down you were praying he wasn’t going to say something weird. After all, you were one of his biggest fans. 

The bubble was suddenly gone, and his message was revealed. As you read it, you were relieved to see that the text wasn’t weird or oddly freaky as you might have imagined. It put you at ease for the moment. 

Pain: same, same, i feel you on that.

You were about to think of another response, but that thought was quickly interrupted by your eyes landing on the familiar typing bubble. He was sending you another message. The thought alone made your heart jump inside of your ribcage, and you honestly didn’t know what to do. Was he going to ask you something? You hoped you’d be able to answer the question in the smoothest way possible.

Pain: sorry if this is too much to ask, but where do you live? i’m just curious because i went through some of your pics and you’re really attractive.

Your jaw immediately dropped when you read the last few words. Pain actually went through your photos and thought you were.. attractive? This had to be some kind of joke. He was so hot, and you didn’t imagine Pain of all people would think you were cute. You figured guys like him would have such high standards. Did you fit what he wanted or something? God, you were losing it at the moment.

You wanted to be as cautious as possible.

While it was nice that Pain was saying these things to you, he was still someone you only knew off of the internet. You couldn’t exactly say fuck it and go off of what he was saying. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, but you couldn’t necessarily ease into him so easily. Just because you were a huge fan didn’t mean that you could believe everything Pain was telling you. For all you knew, he could just be messing around with you. This whole conversation could be a huge joke. You had to play this safely, and with as much caution as possible.

He was asking for your location too. You were very secretive online about where you lived. There was a constant fear that ran through your head that someone you knew would find out the account you ran was yours, or a random person could approach you in public and act like a total creep.  

You needed to keep calm and be confident in yourself. Sure, Pain was very intimidating to the point where he was scary, but you couldn’t let that get in the way of keeping your ground with him.

Now, you needed to think of a good response. You didn’t want to be mean or anything, but you weren’t going to be so easy going with him. Being too aggressive might cause an argument to possibly erupt, or there was the chance that Pain could be upset with you. Maybe behind the screen his intentions weren’t bad, but you didn’t know that. You hoped this would all go well, because, if not, you would have a serious breakdown over it later on. You’ve never seen Pain serious before other than online, so one on one might be hectic. 

Taking a deep breath, you pressed on your keyboard to send a message to him. You brushed away those anxious thoughts for a brief moment so you could regain the confidence to send the reply.

You: thank you! but i don’t know if i’m that comfortable sharing my location with you. you’re attractive and all, but you’re a stranger to me. 

Clicking your phone off, you tossed it onto the other side of your bed. You honestly felt like you were going to throw up from how nervous you were. Your stomach was tied in knots, and your heart was beating at almost a million beats per minute. Your brain was buzzing with the thoughts of what Pain might say to you. You hoped it wouldn’t be too bad.

For several minutes, there was nothing coming from your phone. It honestly felt like you were waiting for the biggest news of your life or something, and you didn’t want to wait any longer. 

You wondered what you should do to pass the time. Maybe you could clean the apartment you lived in? You did have some errands to run, but you didn’t want to seem like a total idiot inside of Target because Pain was messaging you. Fuck! He was such an asshole for making you feel this way. This is what you got for being so into him for the last six months. Your dreams finally came true and you forgot how to act. 

You decided to distract yourself for the time being. If you focused too much on the situation in front of you, you’d probably destroy your entire good mood. It was just Pain, what’s the worst that could happen? He didn’t know where you lived, and you were some person he had met on the internet. If he really went as far as clowning you for it, then so be it. You could care less about some stupid interent trolls.

This would be over soon, and you knew that.

-

Your entire day had gone by within the blink of an eye. 

You ended up running a majority of your errands that you needed to take care of, and you even tidied up your apartment. All of that stuff ended up draining your energy, and you were currently laying on your bed again. This time it was later in the night. It was almost midnight in fact.

Throughout the day, you’d periodically check your phone to see if Pain had replied to you. However, you hadn’t received a single thing all day. Many hours had passed and you wondered if he had possibly left you on read. Though, there was no way you could tell of that. It was honestly bugging you, but sometimes silence was better than replying. You’ve learned that fact many times. 

Maybe your message had scared him off. Maybe his intentions weren’t the best and he took your response as a way of saying fuck off. If that were the case, you weren’t going to complain about it. You’d prefer to avoid any conflicts that may arise. 

Your eyes felt heavy, and you were honestly feeling really drowsy. You usually didn’t fall asleep that early, but you did a lot throughout the day. It wasn’t much of a surprise that you were feeling tired. All you knew was that the sleep you’d get tonight would be great, and you would probably feel really rested tomorrow morning.

You sat up in your bed, pulling the sheets over your body to feel some warmth. You reached downward to grab your phone charger off of the ground. Once you placed the charger in your phone, you’d head to bed. You were too tired to even keep your eyes open. It wouldn’t be an understatement to say you’d be knocked out once your head hit the pillow. 

Plugging your phone in, you let out a sigh. You couldn’t wait to fall asleep already. You wanted to put what happened today behind you, and you just wanted to go and play inside of your dreams for the night.

Just as you were about to place your phone down, the vibration that came from it caused your blood to freeze. 

Almost instantly, you brought your phone back towards your face. To your surprise, you had received the message you weren’t too excited to see. You could feel your throat go dry, and your heart beginning to race from the anxiety.

Pain had finally responded to you after many hours of silence.

Pain: forgive me for being too forward. you’re right, we’re merely strangers, and it’s wrong of me to ask such personal questions. if you want me to stop speaking with you, i understand. once again, i apologize for being inconsiderate. 

You were honestly taken back by his sudden apology. Being honest, that was the last thing you were expecting. Now, you weren’t upset with that response, but it was very shocking. However, you weren’t going to press the issue anymore. 

You were going to be nice. 

You: no worries! thank you for taking in my feelings, pain, i really appreciate that :) also, we can keep talking!!

Being truthful, you didn’t want to stop talking to Pain. Just because he did one thing didn’t mean your perception of him was going to change. People made mistakes, and he owned up to his which was sweet. There weren’t many guys like him out there anymore, so it was nice to know he was aware of when he was wrong.

Within seconds, Pain started typing once again. You shifted around in your bed so you could get more comfortable. You were interested to see what the rest of the conversation would look like.

Your attention snapped towards the new messages that appeared on your screen.

Pain: i’m very relieved to hear that, and i apologize again for messaging you so late. work kept me later than usual. you’re probably tired lol

Pain: if you’d like, i could message you tomorrow morning

Your cheeks burned from his texts. He sounded like such a gentleman. This was something you weren’t expecting at all. 

Now, you only knew Pain on the surface. He was just some guy you had met through Twitter, and, from what you had seen, he didn’t seem like he was the nicest guy to encounter. You knew Pain as the intimidating dominant that’d cum inside any pussy he could get his hands on. He was mean, a tease, and, most of all, the most intimidating guy you had ever laid your eyes upon. For fucks sake, he had piercings on his cock. There weren’t many guys who had the balls to do that.

You decided to keep the conversation going. If you were being truthful with yourself, you didn’t want to end it right there. You wanted to see where this would go. 

You: we don’t have to stop here! being honest, i don’t have anything to do tomorrow so we can keep talking if you’d like :)

Once again, Pain started typing almost immediately. You were already being drawn to his energy from how quick he was responding. It honestly excited you, and the anticipation was already bubbling in your belly. You hadn’t felt something like that in a long time. 

Pain: oh fr? bet, i’m off tomorrow so we can talk as long as you’d like. tbh, it’d be great to have someone to talk for the evening. it can get boring when everyone else is asleep. 

Your eyebrows raised almost instantly. He was actually interested in a conversation with you? Holy fuck you were losing it. You were certain now that your sleep schedule was going to be ruined after tonight.

You: bet! i’m open to talking

-

Your conversations with Pain didn’t stop that night, and you were so glad they didn’t.

From midnight to almost five in the morning, you and Pain messaged with each other. You actually learned a lot about him and he learned some things about you too. He actually kept the conversation going, and he wasn’t dry at all. You learned very quickly that he was a very funny guy, and it attracted you even more to him. 

You actually learned that Pain resided only fifteen minutes away from where you lived. When he mentioned that, you almost lost it. It honestly surprised you that you hadn’t run into him prior, but you never traveled that far outside of your town unless it was to see your parents.

Pain was delighted to hear that you weren’t very far away. He made jokes on how if he ever saw you to not be surprised if he threw a bag of chips at you randomly. 

Besides all of that, Pain was very respectful with you. 

That night you talked turned into many more days and plenty more nights. Your conversations seemed never ending, and there was always something new for you two to talk about. There was never a dull moment between the two of you, and you felt very connected to the young man. You had similar interests, the same ideals on things, hell, you two even liked the same fast food restaurants.

You spent practically every waking second talking to Pain, and you had zero regrets. He’d even like a few of your tweets while you were away to let you know he was still there. He did small things that made your cheeks warm, or butterflies to swarm around your stomach.

He had a hold over you, but you weren’t complaining at all.

So, here you were now, standing below the apartment building Pain lived in.

The decision to finally meet up came quite quickly, but you knew it was what you wanted too. You knew Pain was real. He had sent you several photos of himself, and you two even exchanged your personal social medias with each other. Plus, you were prepared if something were to go wrong. You’d just stab him in the eye and that would be it!

Deep down, you were hoping you didn’t have to do that, but, if you did, you were completely on guard.

Pain was the one who suggested the meet up. He had the weekend off, so he wanted to take the open opportunity to spend time with you. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t a bit hesitant. This was Pain you were talking about. He was your goddamn Twitter crush, and you hadn’t ever imagined you would get to see him in person. The things he said to you made you feel like a school girl giggling over her crush. 

You hoped the hang out would be worth it.

Looking down at your phone, you sent him a message to let him know you were outside of the complex. You could feel everything inside of your stomach swirling around, making you feel queasy. The moment you’d see Pain was just minutes away. It was a moment you’ve always yearned for, but, in reality, you had no idea how to act. This would also be his first time seeing you too, so you hoped you wouldn’t say the wrong thing or come off as an idiot.

God, if this was a dream, you were wishing you weren’t about to wake up.

You felt your phone vibrate in your hand. You looked downward almost instantly to see that Pain had sent you a reply. Your heart quickened inside of your chest when you realized this was real, and you weren’t in a dream.

Pain: cool, i’m nervous as shit right now, but come up to the second floor. i’m in apartment 5

Swallowing thickly, you began to walk towards the front entrance. There were a few people that entered the apartment building, while some made their way out. You honestly felt super dizzy, and the whole scene before you didn’t feel real. Honestly, if you thought too much, you’d probably throw up your breakfast.

You pulled open the front door, feeling the cool air from the inside wrapping around your warm body. Despite the day being cloudy, the humidity was very high. You were practically sweating once you walked outside of your apartment. 

Once fully inside, you looked around the empty corridors. It was super quiet in the complex, and it seemed really nice. It wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that it was better looking than yours.

Turning the corner, you found the elevator. You pressed the small button to the right of it, and itn illuminated almost instantly. You briefly heard the sound of the elevator moving downward towards where you were. You kept frequently checking your phone to make sure Pain hadn’t sent you anymore messages. Your phone had no other notifications, so you knew you were good to keep heading up there. 

The sudden ding from the elevator made all of your thoughts disappear for a second. The metal door opened, revealing an empty elevator. You quickly stepped inside, placing your phone back into your pocket. Your eyes searched the list of buttons that were against the wall of the elevator. You saw the number two displayed, so you reached forward to press it. Once you did so, the door to the elevator closed. 

You played with the skin around your nails as the elevator brought you up to the second floor. Every couple of seconds, it’d shake or make a small noise, but you were used to that. However, you weren’t paying much attention to the space around you. All your brain could think about was what you were going to do when you met Pain. Hell, what were you going to say?

You practically jolted out of your skin when you heard the ding of the elevator. The door slowly opened, showing you the empty hallway before you. 

Fuck, you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. 

You stepped forward so you could exit the elevator. The hallway you entered was pretty quiet. There were apartments going from the left to the right side. You honestly didn’t know what side to look at, but you knew that the numbers were going to start on the left. 

Turning down the hall, you began to scan your eyes along the wooden doors. The numbers were hung clearly against the center, so you could see it right away. 

One..

Two..

Three..

Four..

Five.

Every hair on your body stood up once you realized you were standing before Pain’s apartment. You contemplated running away at that very moment. Maybe you could come up with some great excuse that would seem reasonable. Though, you drove all the way here to meet him. If you backed out, you might never have an opportunity like this again. You also had many opportunities to go home and leave. 

This was your chance, you couldn’t let this slide.

You reached into your pocket to take out your phone. You went to send Pain the text that you were outside of the door. 

You didn’t realize how nervous you were until now. Your thumbs were shaking as you typed out the message to him. With one swift tap, you sent the text. It delivered instantly, and your nerves spiked almost instantly.

You: i’m here!

You quickly shoved your phone away and fixed yourself up while you still had the chance. You wore some ripped baby blue mom jeans with a black crop top that had white letters plastered on the center of the fabric. God, you were really hoping you didn’t look like absolute shit at the moment.

The sound of shuffling coming from behind the door made you pause in your movements. Your heart was beating so fast you could practically hear it in your ears. He was just a few feet away from you. 

You heard the click of the door unlocking, and, before you could even react, the door was being pulled open. Fuck! You felt like you were going to faint. 

Your eyes shot up almost instantly when you saw him standing there. He was real, Pain was now standing before you. You couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw him. The man you had longed to actually meet for months was now here, and you didn’t know what the hell to do. It was almost as if you were lost in him. He looked even more attractive in person. Everything you had seen in pictures and videos was now directly in front of you.

Pain wore a casual outfit. He had on some black sweatpants with a gray crewneck on top. He had his piercings in, and, from what you could see, he seemed to be playing with one of them with his tongue. You could also smell the aroma of his cologne flowing off of him. It was enough to almost intoxicate you.

“Hey.. it’s nice to finally meet you,” his voice was smooth and deep. It sounded just like the audio clips he’d post to Twitter.

Realizing that he actually spoke to you, you shifted around so you could pay better attention to him. “Hi..” you felt so shy in his presence, “It’s nice to meet you too, Pain,”

He stepped beside the door. “Come in,” he motioned for you to step inside. You honestly felt like you were going to throw up, but you had to repress that thought as much as you could. Puking up your bagel didn’t sound like such a great first impression.

You smiled softly, choosing to walk forward into his apartment. It seemed like such a cozy place if you were being honest. The interior was well kept, and there wasn’t a single speck of dust in sight. It also faintly smelled like vanilla, which was calming to you. At least he kept his place nice and tidy. 

“You look very nice, I love your outfit,” he gave you a small smile. 

You lifted your eyes to look at him. He was so gorgeous to look at. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was difficult to pull your eyes away from him. “Thank you! You look nice too,” you rocked on your heels, feeling nervous. You honestly didn’t know what to do nor say. 

Pain eyed you before playing with the strands of his hair. “My bad, I’m so awkward right now because you’re just.. very pretty,” he laughed, “Do you want me to make you something to eat? I might not be the perfect chef, but I can try,”

Your face began to burn again. Pain actually thought you were pretty? You couldn’t believe he was actually saying these things to you. He also offered to cook you something? You never knew that he knew how to cook. Sure, he mentioned eating before, but you always assumed he was eating something that wasn't actual food. 

If you were hungry, you’d probably say yes, but your stomach was still in knots. If you ate, you’d most likely get too queasy. 

Though, Pain’s actions were making your core heat up. You weren’t sure if it was because of the way he was speaking to you, or if it was because of his gentle acts of kindness. You couldn’t make it too obvious though, because your intention wasn’t to try and do something with him that wasn’t the most appropriate. You didn’t want to give off the idea that you were here for something like that. He was a real person after all.

“I’m okay! I’ll probably eat something later,” you replied, “And don’t worry, I feel pretty awkward sometimes too. I understand,”

Pain chuckled, he honestly felt a bit better knowing that you understood him. He hated how shy he could get sometimes, especially with you. It took him so long to gain the courage to send you that message. He was shocked as hell to find out you were single.

He knew you’d be hard to talk to, but it seemed a lot easier than he imagined. He thought he’d be sitting in silence with you, but you kept everything enthusiastic. Pain really appreciated that energy from you.

“Alright, cool, I’ll make sure you have something to eat before you leave then,” he shoved his hands into his pockets, “Do you want to come and chill in my room? We could watch a movie or something,”

You nodded your head almost instantly. “Sure, I’m down for that,” you turned to remove your shoes before you stepped any further into his apartment. You were super curious to see what his bedroom looked like. You had only seen a portion of it in the videos he posted, and, from what you saw, it was a nice space.

Turning around, you began to follow Pain down the hallway. As you walked, you passed by a couple of doors. There was a bathroom at the very end of the hall, and a closet on the right side which was shut.

You trailed behind Pain as he stepped into his bedroom. It was a very large room. It had to be even bigger than yours. 

His bed was queen sized. His sheets were black, and there was a table beside his bed with a lamp sitting atop of it. There were many posters scattered along his walls which included some of his favorite artists, or TV shows. The walls around you were painted with a dark shade of navy blue, which somewhat matched his bed sheets. On the ceiling, he had LED lights lining the corners. There were also vines hanging near almost every inch of the roof. Finally, there was a ceiling fan which was switched off. His room had such a vibe, and it matched who he was as a person.

He had miniscule items too. There was a dresser up against the wall near the window, and he had a small desk in the corner of the room. It was so well organized. You hadn’t seen a guy with a room that nice in such a long time. 

“Your room is so nice,” you walked around the space to look at some of the random items he had placed on top of his dresser. There were pictures of him and some of his friends, and even some cute Funko Pops. 

Pain plopped down on his bed. He watched you walk around his room like you were a child on a field trip with their class. He thought it was kind of amusing to see how curious you were. Pain also found that behavior to be kind of cute.

“Do you see something you like?” he nodded his head as your fingers glided over the many objects around his room.

You turned around so you were now facing him. You felt your cheeks warm with embarrassment. “You just have a lot of cool things. Sorry if I’m being intrusive on your space,” you rubbed the back of your neck as you spoke to him. 

He smiled at you, shaking his head. You were so damn cute to him. He never knew you had such a sweet personality. When he first met you, he thought you were the most intimidating person he ever encountered. Yet, you had such a gentle side. It drew Pain to you almost immediately. He adored every little thing you did. He almost couldn’t get enough of your beauty and who you were as a person. This, this was different, and he could feel it deep down within him. 

He shifted around on his mattress. “Don’t apologize, I don’t mind it one bit. I think curiosity is kind of cute,” he laughed through his nose. 

You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully. You couldn’t help but look at Pain who was sitting before you on his bed. He was right near the edge so his feet were on the floor. You couldn’t lie, he looked very hot sitting like that. His legs were slightly parted open, and he looked so nonchalant with his wrists against his knees like that. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of him.

There was something deep inside of your gut that was telling you that you should make some kind of move. You could feel the heat pooling inside of your panties, and the pure thought of just sitting on his lap was driving you up the wall. You just weren’t sure how Pain would react to that action. 

You stepped towards him slowly so you were now standing directly in front of him. Pain noticed your movements, so he lifted his gaze to meet you staring down at him. He could read your body language so well, and he knew there was something you wanted to do. He couldn’t read minds, but he wanted the same exact thing you did. His cock practically ached inside of his boxers for you. He wanted you more than anything, but he didn’t want to do something that would make you uncomfortable. Fuck, you were so hard to resist.

There was a thick bubble of tension that surrounded the two of you. Pain could feel it, and so could you. Both of you were hesitant to make moves on each other. The pure need you were both feeling was boiling inside of you like a pot on a stove. It was eventually going to pour over, and neither of you knew when that was going to happen. 

“Pain..” you broke the silence that was circling around the room. 

Once he heard your sweet voice, he looked up at you instantly. He was having a hard time trying to hold back. 

“Can I touch you..?” he sounded almost desperate as the words rolled off of his tongue. He felt his cock twitch from the mere thought of being able to place his fingers on you. Pain often wondered how smooth your skin was.

You let out a shaky breath. “Y-Yes.. please, touch me, Pain,” you were almost as needy as he was, but you could care less. You couldn’t deny those feelings anymore.

Pain reached forward so he could place his hands on your hips. He then brought you forward so you could sit on his lap. The warmth from his body caused goosebumps to erupt onto your skin, and, almost instinctively, you put your own hands onto his shoulders. 

Pain’s hands trailed along your waist and your hips. He would occasionally squeeze at the plush around them. The feeling was making you feel even more needy for him. You found yourself unable to pull away. All you craved was Pain and his touch. There was a side of you that wanted to touch him too. You were dying to see how his muscles looked in person. You were always so turned on by how gorgeous his body looked in photos, and the image of it made your body feel as if it was on fire.

Your hands went to cup his cheeks. His skin felt like smooth silk beneath your fingertips. The eye contact between the two of you was intense, and your faces were just inches apart from one another. Your thumbs went to brush against the apples of his cheeks, and Pain could feel his stomach doing flips.

Before you were able to process it, Pain had pressed his lips against yours. 

The feeling of his lips were satisfactory to you. You could faintly taste a hint of fruit that lingered on his tongue. It only made you want to kiss him more. 

Desperately, you wrapped your arms around his neck. Pain’s grip on your body tightened as your soft kisses turned into a more aggressive makeout. His teeth would occasionally nibble on your bottom lip to get some more access to your mouth. He couldn’t get enough of how delicious you were. Your lips were so smooth and soft. He didn’t want to ever stop kissing them.

Your mouth fell slightly agape when you felt the tip of his hard cock brush up against your clit. The friction sent bolts of electricity along your belly, and you could practically feel your panties being soaked from his actions. Pain then took the open opportunity to stick his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss you guys were sharing together. The things he was feeling were driving him insane. He hadn’t felt such euphoria before. He used his right hand to tightly squeeze the plush of your ass. He rested that same palm against your hip so he could slowly grind you against his aching cock. 

A gasp escaped your throat from the touch your clit was receiving. It felt so good, your brain felt as if it was melting from the pleasure. 

What you felt next inside of your mouth shocked you. As Pain’s tongue explored your mouth, you felt the cool metal of a tongue piercing touching your gums. You couldn’t believe he actually had one. Pain had many crazy piercings, so you weren’t exactly the most surprised. However, you didn’t expect to feel it like that, nor did you ever see it when you were talking with him. 

Reaching downward, you pressed your hand against the bulge that formed in his sweatpants. Pain let out a groan once he felt you palming his cock. He couldn’t lie, the strain he felt inside of his boxers was hard to handle. He was a very patient man, but, when it came to you, it was becoming incredibly difficult to do so. 

Pain pulled away, breaking the kiss between you two. The both of you were panting, and your lips were now swollen and puffy. There were seductive looks written on both of your faces. You knew what you both wanted, and it was as clear as day.

“You’re intoxicating.. you know that?” he placed his hand around the base of your throat, giving it a firm hold so you couldn’t pull away from him. Your body shivered as the chilly metal of his rings made contact with your pulse.

You swallowed thickly, looking into Pain’s eyes. “Speak for yourself..” you let out several pants as your body began to heat up even more, “Please.. let me make you feel good, Pain..”

His eyes slightly widened at the sound of your plea. In his mind, he wanted to make you feel good. Pain was always about the other person and their pleasure, so he rarely ever made a move to put his first. However, he wasn’t going to deny your request. 

That meant next time he’d have to repay you for what you did for him.

“Go for it.. I’m not going to stop you,” he used the pad of his thumb to rub your lips.

Those words rang inside of your head, causing you to become very excited. You couldn’t actually believe you were going to go down on Pain. Hell, you imagined this moment many times inside of your head, and you weren’t going to let this chance slip away. You wanted to do your best for him. He deserved to feel something good, and you couldn’t wait to see his cock in front of you.

You quickly maneuvered yourself off of Pain’s lap to place your knees on the floor. You reached forward while Pain leaned back to watch you untie the knot that held his sweatpants around his hips. His breathing was quite heavy and uneven. You had seen him like that plenty of times on his account, and it was always such a turn on for you.

Lifting his hips, you were able to pull his sweatpants down along with his boxers. His cock sprang out instantly. Your eyes landed on the pink tip that leaked with pre-cum. The sight of it made your clit throb with need, and your mouth watered from how nice it looked. He was freshly shaved, and you could see the two metal piercings that sat inside of the base of his cock. It looked much bigger than it did in his videos.

You reached forward with your right hand to wrap your fingers around the shaft of his dick. It was very hot, almost feverish. You slowly began to stroke him. Your eyes frequently flashed upward to look for any signs of discomfort, but you didn’t see any of that. Pain kept licking his lips and playing with the piercing on his tongue. 

You moved yourself forward so your head was now closer to his cock. You stuck your tongue out so you could lick the pre-cum off of the tip. Pain sucked in a harsh breath once he felt your warm, hot tongue against his dick. Your small kitten licks turned into drags against the base, and, finally, you wrapped your pretty mouth around his cock. 

Pain let out a groan once he felt your mouth around him. He couldn’t help but entangle his fingers into your hair as you slowly took him deeper into you. The cold piercings touched the top of your mouth, causing you to shiver. You never thought those kinds of piercings were that hot, but you started to wonder what it’d be like to have them inside of you. The lewd thought made you wet. You’d have to come and see him again to find out what that was like.

“Fuck.. like that, baby, suck my fucking dick..” his left hand trailed along your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch. It was oddly comforting to feel him touching you. 

Your tongue swirled around the tip of his cock, earning a tight tug on your hair from Pain. You’d occasionally look up at him so you could see his face, because seeing him like that made you so turned on. He had the most handsome looking face when he was feeling pleasure. The soft groans that fell from his lips, or the way his mouth was parted open. All of it was so attractive.

You pulled your head back, causing a “pop” noise to come from your mouth. You continued to jerk Pain with your hand. You looked up at him as you did so, batting your eyelashes to receive some kind of reaction from him. Pain thought you looked so damn sexy like that. Your innocent eyes made his cock twitch in your hand, and it was hard fighting the urge to absolutely fuck the shit out of your throat. You were already taking him very well, so he wondered what else you were capable of.

You let some of your saliva drip onto his cock. You then wrapped your mouth around him again, which, in turn, caused Pain to grunt. He placed his hand behind your head so he could start bobbing you against his cock. Since he had a hold of your head, he started to pick up the pace. He started to make you go faster, but not too fast to where it was unbearable. The noises he let out were so erotic, and it was almost like music to your ears. 

Pain dug his nails into your scalp. You were better than he ever imagined. “Yeah.. you’re so fucking good at this,” he bobbed your head slower this time, “Gonna fill your throat with my c-cum..”

You placed your hands against Pain’s thighs as he started to take more control of your head. Your core was on fire from how hot he sounded. You could feel the way his thigh muscles clenched and flexed beneath your fingers from how often he moved them. 

Slowly, Pain started moving your head deeper down his cock. You could feel his girth slowly inching itself closer to the back of your throat, and his dick piercings were following along with it. You could feel tears brimming on your lash line as the tip of his cock poked near the start of your throat. Saliva pooled around it, causing some drool to slip out of the corners of your mouth. Your eyes lifted to meet Pain's, which were staring down at you with a smirk. 

He then let your head go, causing you to gasp for air while you held onto the base of his cock. There was spit covering your chin, and your throat felt kind of raspy. Though, you didn’t mind how you looked. You knew Pain would think you were sexy regardless.

He moved a piece of hair away from your face as you panted heavily. “Such a good little slut.. you take me as if your throat was made for me..” he stroked your cheek with his palm, eyeing you as if you were candy.

You smiled, slowly stroking Pain in your fist. You wanted to go all out again, because you wanted to please him more than anything. The idea of Pain reaching his orgasm because of you was only encouraging you to make sure he cums. You honestly felt cocky thinking it, but you actually sucked off Pain of all people. He was complimenting how you were sucking him off, and it made you feel so good.

Leaning forward, you took Pain into your mouth again. He groaned instantly once your warm mouth surrounded him again. Your tongue swirled around the tip, causing his hips to buck forward. 

“Fuck! Keep doing that.. you’re so good for me,” he grabbed at your head as you kept taking him in. In a way, you found something you could use to make him feel good. You made sure to keep note of that. 

Pain started to thrust his hips upwards as the pleasure took over him. You let out a small gagging noise as his tip kissed the back of your throat. Your nails dug into the skin of his thighs from the feeling, but you were able to take it. You didn’t want to disappoint Pain in any aspect, so you took him as much as you could.

As his cock went towards the back of your throat, you hummed against the tip so he could feel some pleasure. The sensation sent waves of euphoria along his abdomen. You were truly good at what you did. He couldn’t believe you were hidden amongst his fans. 

You were in fact the best fan he’s ever had.

Pain suddenly grabbed your head aggressively backward. The release caused you to gasp, and it allowed air to finally enter through your lungs. He was staring down at you with these serious eyes that made you shiver. He had a similar expression you had seen numerous times in the videos he posted. Those heavy eyes that could scare anyone, and a stare that made blood turn cold. You knew it all too well. 

He tilted your head backward so you could look up at him. “When I cum, I want you to swallow every last drop,” his voice caused your thighs to press together, “Got it?”

Your head nodded almost instantly. Pain cumming down your throat made you all the more eager to finish him off. The way he sounded was driving your mind crazy. You hadn’t been in a situation this erotic before, and you had zero regrets.

Pain released your head, leaving you to start sucking him off again. This time, you paid more attention to the tip of his cock. Your tongue danced along the top, swirling around and teasing the small hole where his release would come out of. He seemed to really enjoy that, because he let out several deep groans every time you did it. You also made sure to maintain eye contact.

“Such nice eyes.. shit, I’d love to see those eyes looking at me when I fuck you..” he gripped at the blanket beneath his bottom.

The knot inside of his belly was growing tighter as you kept teasing the tip of his cock. He felt his release threatening to come at any moment, and he knew it was going to be intense. The idea of your sweet little throat being filled with his cum was driving him mad. You’d look so sexy with his seed in your mouth. Only he belonged inside of you like that. He should be the only one ruining your pretty throat.

You felt his cock twitching inside of your mouth. You watched Pain grit his teeth as you kept going. “F-Fuck, ‘gonna cum..” his voice was pretty much breathless as he spoke to you.

There was suddenly a thick, white, sticky liquid that filled your mouth. It was warm, and it coated your throat almost instantly. Pain held your head in place as he reached his orgasm. Several curses fell from his lips, your name included. He didn’t want a single drop to escape. You needed to swallow every bit of it.

After a few seconds, Pain let your head go. You instantly swallowed his cum which was inside of your mouth. The taste was as expected of him. 

“Open,” he ordered.

Parting your mouth wide enough, you stuck your tongue out to prove that all of his cum was gone and down your throat. Pain smirked at how hot you looked like that. He hadn’t gotten head like that in a long time, so he considered you a special one. He knew deep down this wasn’t going to be the last time he saw you. He wanted to see you again, and not just one or two times.

Your lips were swollen, your eyes were slightly glassy, and your once well-kept hair was now somewhat messy. Saliva had collected onto the corners of your mouth, but Pain didn’t give two fucks. To him, you were the most attractive person he’s ever laid his eyes upon.

Pain shifted himself around so he could pull his pants back up. He was kind of exhausted after all of the fun the two of you had. He could also tell that you were worn out from it too.

As he stood up, Pain reached his hand out towards you so you could get yourself onto your feet. He didn’t want the night to end, nor did you. 

“So, how about that dinner I promised you?”

[i-put-the-yan-in-polyandry]

Children of the Creator — Cyres and Cryas

Okay so! Here's about my sagau bois Cyres and Cryas! I don't have any images bc I've not been able to get the idea in my head hammered out yet but I'll give a basic description~

For those who didn't see my last post, "Mother" is the original creator god that made Teyvat, and that title sticks to any iteration of them.

For both brothers, they view themselves above others and only interact with mortals that have drawn their ire, or who have been deemed worthy by Mother (god!darling, their creator) or Teyvat, including nonhumans and those with longevity bc why would that make them any better? Although, they're generally amiable or even friendly (in their own ways) to the innocent and children, especially when in Teyvat because of their Mother, they're just cloud nine.

They both have a strong sense of faith and justice, always upholding their Mother's name and principles. You can expect them to smite a bitch if they catch anyone chasing you down in the imposter au, their Mother or not, you don't do that shit to innocents. At least in my au, they particularly believe in repentance and atonement over punishment (of course punishments are also important sometimes) which means they're gonna cut a bitch who goes straight to the death sentence instead of putting them to work in service of others.

Actual puppies toward their Mother, will do literally anything without question. Bois protected Teyvat from any external threats and watched over all your creations while you were gone, though not interfering unless they needed to. Forget everything else about them, they're filial sons who would destroy and create Teyvat a million times over to achieve your perfect world, should you ask.

They act as one unit, almost as if they were one person in two bodies. Seeing them work together is like watching a river run, unable to tell where one stream of water separates from another. They bounce off of each other perfectly and make up for each other's weaknesses. Together, they're unstoppable. That's how you made them, after all.

Cryas, the Aspect of Creation, is about as chaotic as you'd expect creation to be. He's the more expressive of the brothers, always up for some chaos and mischief to shake up the order of things. He's a bit like Childe, except he only ever shows it to people he deems worthy. Otherwise, he's a cold sadist who takes delight in showing heretics and sinners why Destruction is the merciful one. A wild attack dog waiting to tear his fangs into something, and a playful pup to his family.

Cyres, the Aspect of Destruction, is generally the more mature of the two and the voice of reason—but don't let that fool you, he's just as crazy. He's smart, calculating, and decisive, the strategist of the two. His demeanor doesn't visibly change much between his hated and beloved, though that's only if you can't see the way he softens into complete mush at the attention of his Mother. Although Cyres doesn't believe in death as a punishment and isn't as cruel as his brother, that doesn't mean you're better off with him as your judge; Cyres will execute a swift punishment that targets your every weakness, leaving you begging to repent. He's a snake in the grass, elegant, poised, and always ready to strike.

The two, despite being near identical twins, are visual opposites: Cryas has white hair and black eyes while Cyres has black hair and white eyes, both with distinct primogem pupils. Cryas favors lighter clothing while Cyres dresses dark, both favor gold as an accenting color. They look like young adults, have since birth, and, in case you're wondering, their blood runs pure gold.

Both have unchallenged dominion over their respective domains, able to create or destroy anything. They possess an eternity of experience in combat, strategy, and magic. These boys are ready to defend you in your new, weaker body! Just rely on them!

Please give them headpats and tell them that they're good boys, praise them for working so hard in your absence~

[emjiroki]

Friends With Benefits Collab piece: Rindou Haitani x F! Reader 💜

Word count: 5k

Warnings: jealousy, angst, verbal threatening, explicit scenes and language, oral receiving, soft sex, fluff and some funnies. All characters are 23+

A/N: hi everyone! It's me. I'm back with a collab fic for my lovely @kshira FWB collab 💜 this was so much fun to write and my Rinnie being soft is the light of my life! I hope everyone enjoys reading and please check out the materlist for the collab to find all the other amazing works 💜💜💜

Every time you asked him to stay and every time he told you no. 

“I’m busy” He would claim, pulling his shirt on and heading for the door. 

“Ran’s calling I’ve gotta go,” His phone wouldn’t even be ringing. 

“That isn’t what this is, babe,”. That hurt the most. But he kept showing up on your doorstep, flushed and wanting you more than the oxygen in his lungs. And you let him back in every time, fresh heartbreak piercing your chest as his lips pressed to yours. How many times had you asked him to stay with you, just for the night, tried to convince him that nothing would change and that it wouldn’t mean anything. At this point, Rindou couldn’t tell. So why had it bothered him so much when you had all but kicked him out tonight. Claiming to have plans and that you needed him gone. The rejection had anger boiling in his gut, his unanswered questions of why and with who tasting like venom on his tongue. He had barely said a word as he left, a quick bye escaping as you shut the door behind him and it took everything in him not to kick the damn door in. You’re lucky he had a meeting he was late for, otherwise, he would have.

Rindou's leg was bouncing with anger almost the whole meeting. Mikey going on about police presence in the area, Kokonoi taking tally for jobs, Sanzu cleaning his gun, Takeomi angrily flicking his lighter trying to catch a flame, between all the noise he could barely hear himself think and it was enough to really get on his nerves. He couldn’t explain it if someone asked him, why it seems like he can’t settle down, why his jaw won’t unclench and his muscles were drawn up tighter than a bowstring. Maybe it was that ‘overstimulated’ brain thing you had mentioned from some article you read, he couldn’t remember all you had said because he had had you in bed two minutes after you finished talking but he thinks he has that issue sometimes. Especially now that thinking about you has made his cock rock solid and added just one more thing for him to think about. 

“Trouble in paradise little brother?” Ran asked from beside him, his matching violet eyes gleaming with mirth at the murderous look on his brother’s face. 

“No, shut up” Rindou snapped.

“So hostile,” Ran said, throwing his hands up in feigned innocence, “sounds like you need to get your dick wet. Why don’t you call up that little piece of yours?”. 

The mere mention of you out in the open had his dick twitching, an irritated groan escaping him as he smacked his forehead against the table. 

“Oooh so there is trouble,” Ran said curiously, propping his chin on his hands like a school girl getting gossip. 

“It’s nothing concerning you. That’s for sure,” Rindou muttered, folding his arms under his head. He didn’t want to talk about it, about you, about the dumb situation he found himself in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. His heart wasn’t supposed to hurt when he saw the tears in your eyes. His gut wasn’t supposed to twist at the thought of his own words leaving your mouth. “That isn’t what this is, right?” your voice echoed in his head, the dulling look in your eyes as you looked at him and waited for him to leave. ‘Just like I always do’ He thought.

“Awe, don’t tell me little bro has a crush,” Ran cooed, pinching Rin’s exposed cheek and laughing when he was swatted away. 

“Would you grow up? We’re adults,” Rindou said with a roll of his eyes.

“Exactly. We are Adults,” Ran said with a soft slap to the back of his brother’s head, “So grow some fucking balls and figure your shit out”. God he hated when Ran was right. Keeping whatever it was that he had with you casual and boiled down to a friends with benefits situation was eating him alive. 

‘Well. Maybe not so much friends anymore’ Rin thought bitterly to himself. You had been friends once. For a long time, you did almost everything together. Working as a new intern for the tattoo artist that did his and Ran’s ink had given him an opportunity to talk to you and invite you to party with him. Hooking up that night had been an accident fueled by coke and alcohol but you had both agreed you didn’t regret it and that it was something you wanted to try again. And you had both laughed when you made the try it sober distinction. That night and subsequent hangover day seemed like a million years ago when it had only been one. Probably the best year of his life. So why did seeing you so openly attached make everything in him scream? Like his skin would run away from his bones and leave him bare for you to see every flaw and mistake carved into him. He had been so confident in the beginning. Like feelings for you were on an impossible scale he could never reach. The easier it got to be around you the more he wanted to skip town and run. He couldn’t do this to you. Poison you with everything he was and is, ruin you down to the core. No matter how tempting it was to have you all to himself. 

“So what’s the deal? Just call her up and give her some sap ass apology and boom. Sliding back home before sunrise,” Ran said, nudging him again to get his attention. 

“I can handle it Ran,” Rindou snapped, throwing a pen at Kakucho who had turned his head to listen in. 

“If you could handle it you wouldn’t be sulking,” Ran argued, “So where is she? You leave her at her place?”

“Said she had plans,” Rin said with a resigned sigh. His brother wasn’t gonna drop this. 

“Yikes, sounds like that might be a problem," Ran said. Rindou looked at him incredulously, like he had grown a third eye. 

“What do you mean?”.

“A problem like a date, are you that stupid?” Takeomi muttered around the unlit cigarette between his lips.

“Did I fucking ask you? Wait-” Rindou paused. A date? A fucking date?! Why was that the last thing he thought of? His fists clenched, knuckles turning white as anger began to boil anew deep in his chest. “You think she’s on a date?”. 

“No guarantee,” Takeomi shrugged, nudging Kakucho for a light.

“Please. The tight ass on her? She’s on a date. And he’s hot too. I’ll bet money on it,” Ran said, dodging Rindou's punch with a smirk. 

“What are we betting on?” Kokonoi asked, the mention of cash bringing him immediate interest. 

“Nothing”

“If Rin’s little piece is on a date and leaving his ass in the dust”.

“Ran shut the f-”

“Jeez, Rindou. Your girl out on a date with someone else? Wanna go kill him?” Sanzu said from where he was lounging in his seat with his feet up, half asleep on whatever he took earlier. That honestly didn’t sound half bad but he wasn’t about to deal with Sanzu getting car sick again. Besides.

“She’s not my girlfriend. It’s… complicated,” Rindou said, the collective ‘Ohs’ not helping to diminish the flush in his face. 

"I was the one who set up this, whatever the hell it is, and it’s worked just fine!”. God did he really hate calling it “Friends with Benefits”. 

“Worked until now,” Mikey said from the head of the table, stoic face and dark eyes reflecting Rindou’s irritation like a mirror. “Don’t look at me like that. If you didn’t want me to chime in, you shouldn’t have interrupted my meeting with your pussy problems”. 

“Well who caught feelings? That’s the issue,” Kakucho asked. Rin felt like his head was going to blow off, fire pouring out of his ears, smoke choking his lungs. Cause he realized it was him. The whole reason this situation had gotten weird and out of hand was because he was pushing back so hard. Trying to fight feelings he didn’t understand. His chair almost toppled over backward from the force of him standing.

“I’ve gotta go,” He said, the finality in his tone only making him more confident. He was tired of running. Tired of everything he was afraid of dictating how he committed to you. 

“If you need me to bail you out, I’m your phone call,” Ran shouted. Rindou barely heard him as raced to the elevator, slamming his hand into the call button repeatedly until the doors dinged open. 

“Hurry the hell up you damn thing,” He snapped as the elevator seemed to be working against him, rolling as slow as possible down to the lobby. There were too many people around for his liking as he quickly made his way to the secured garage, fishing his car keys out. He hadn’t realized that he was driving your favorite car, hadn’t even thought about it when he had gotten back to his apartment to grab a shower and change before the meeting, something he usually did at your place. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed the scent of your soap on his skin. It had become a comforting smell for him, along with your detergent and the various candles you would purchase and burn. Rindou hoped with every bit of good karma he had left, which probably wasn’t much, that he wouldn’t be too late. That he hadn’t lost you yet. 

You hadn’t technically lied to Rindou. You said you had plans and you did. Plans to sit on your couch, order take-out, and binge watch a show you had been putting off. You did feel a little bad for being so cold. But using his own words against him had felt so right in the moment. Unfortunately, the look of confusion and masked hurt on his face hadn’t brought the satisfaction you had expected. Quite the opposite actually. The guilt ate at you long after he was gone, no matter how hard you tried to justify and repress it. With your food eaten and thrown away, you were now six episodes deep in your show when there was a pounding knock at your door. You froze for a moment, checking your phone to see it was nearly midnight. Who the hell would be knocking on your door right now. You hesitated, jumping when the knock came again along with Rindou’s voice shouting your name. You rolled your eyes, pausing your show and going to the door.

“Jesus, Rindou you scared the hell out of me!” You snapped when you opened the door. 

“Sorry-,” He cut himself off, looking you up and down in your pajamas, “I thought you had plans”. Que the eye-rolling again.

“My plans are to get away from you Rindou. You and your inconsiderate ass” You said, debating on shutting the door in his face again. 

“So you weren’t gonna go on a date with a hot guy?” He asked, confusion evident in his flushed cheeks and deadpan almost bored expression. 

“Excuse me? No. where did you get that idea?” You demanded, giving him a look like you couldn’t believe him how dumb he is sometimes. 

“Well, Ran said-”

“Oh! Of course! Ran said it so it must be true,” You cut him off, your tone dripping with sarcasm. Rindou gritted his teeth, never the one who liked to be made a fool of. 

“Y/N, Stop. Listen to me” He said, fighting every instinct in his body not to blow up, his already short fuse running dangerously thin. 

“No Haitani YOU listen,” You snapped, poking a finger into his chest, “I’m sick of you coming and going as you please. Wringing me dry of my emotions for your own benefit. I know what we set. But feelings change Rindou and you won’t even talk to me. How is this supposed to be Friends With Benefits if we aren’t even friends anymore? When you won’t even talk to me? Or spend time with me outside of showing up at my door at two in the morning to be patched up”. Rindou took the berating, finger jabbing into his sternum like a knife and words only cutting deeper because he knew everything you were saying with tear-filled eyes was true. He knew he had been using you for his own benefit, toying with you and your fragile heart like a cat with a ball of string and it made him sick down to the core. 

You took a deep gasping breath as you let your hand fall from his chest, heart pounding as you tried to reel yourself in, not wanting to fly off the handle and say something you’d really regret. You were about to demand a response, even a simple “screw you” would suffice at this point, anything instead of his default bored expression. But you knew he was listening, tips of his ear burning crimson as his violet eyes scanned you, watched the way your lips moved and your cheeks flushed in anger. 

“I’m sorry Rindou but… it’s been a year. An amazing year but if you aren’t willing to at least try an actual relationship with me then I don’t think-”. His lips were pressed against yours before you could finish, tongue sweeping into your mouth as he molded his body against your front and moved you back into the doorway. 

Alarm bells were ringing in his ears as he moved forward, unable to think of anything but keeping those words from your mouth. That you couldn’t do this with him. He’d rather die by firing squad than hear that. The gasp against his mouth only made him press forward, wanting to kiss all of his sorrys and his love into you so he wouldn’t have to utter the words aloud and break your heart all over again. 

“Rindou,” you gasped, trying to pull away even as hot tears spilled down your cheeks, and all you wanted to do was bury yourself against him, “Please just-”. 

“I can’t. I won’t. I’m not letting you go,” He muttered against your lips as he hugged you, “I-I love you, I’m sorry. So sorry”. Those words should have left his mouth ages ago and he could only hope that you would accept them as they tumbled out now. 

“Rindou-” You tried again, soft hand against his chest just barely trying to move him away. 

“What happened to Rin? Huh? Am I not good enough for that anymore?” He demanded, the hurt swimming in his violet gaze making your heart clench. Tears bubbled in your line of vision, rolling slowly down your cheeks in burning tracks. 

“I- I feel like- I can’t- talk to you,” You hiccuped, furiously wiping the tears away as he lifted his hand to your cheek, “You leave me so hurt I don’t feel like you are my Rin anymore”. That was like a spear to the chest, nearly making him double over. 

"Let me fix it,” He insisted in a hushed tone, painfully aware that this whole mess was happening in the vacancy of your apartment hallway. But just let someone try and say something to him right now. “I’ll do anything you want me to”.

“That’s the thing, I want you to do those things because you want to. Because you love me. Not just to keep me around as a side piece and to keep my mouth shut” You said, that dulling look creeping back into your gaze. The look that turned his stomach into a ball of ice. 

“I will just give me a chance to-” He was cut off by one of the doors a few paces down the hall opening. 

“Would you two go inside and deal with your shit? Nobody wants to hear it” one of your neighbors said grouchily, barely leaning out the door. 

“How about I rip your goddamn ears off so you don’t have to hear us then?” Rindou snapped, angling his body like he was going to take a step, “you’re lucky I’ve got business with my girl or we’d have a real problem you stupid fuck”. You wrapped your hands around his arm, dragging him back and shoving him through the doorway of your apartment.

“Sorry, he’s got brain damage,” You said in a quick apology to your neighbor before they decided to call the police, shutting the door quickly behind you. 

“What the fuck?” He asked angrily as you slid the chain into place.

“Do you want the cops called? Want to go to jail at midnight on a Saturday and be stuck till Monday?” You asked with an expectant look. Rindou looked at his feet, ears burning again and feeling very much like the child Ran always accused him of being. He knew he had warrants and could not only get himself taken away but you as well for being involved with him. He shook his head.

“No,” He said, jaw clenching at the thought of how embarrassing that would be, “Cause I’d have to call Ran”. Your soft laugh brought a smile to his face and he realized that he hadn’t heard it in a long time. The only sounds around you were the soft hum of your dishwasher and the quiet tick of your kitchen clock, tension sitting silently between you like a landmine waiting for a misstep. 

“I really am sorry, y/n,” Rindou said, “it’s my fault this went to hell”. 

“It’s not just your fault, I knew what this was when we started but I… guess I was just hoping it would turn into something else,” You admitted with an embarrassed sigh, looking down at the rug beneath your feet. Goosebumps raised across your skin as he stepped to you, left hand resting against your jaw to raise your face. How many times had you laid in bed after he had left, crying and wishing he would stay just once, hold you and look at you with those ethereal violet eyes like you were the center of his world. Like he used to when this arrangement started. Like he was now. 

“I love you. And I should have told you before now,” He said softly, as if you were in a crowded room and he only wanted you to hear, right hand going to your waist to pull you closer. “You remember when I drove from Roppongi to Shinjuku city to pick you up from your friend’s bachelorette party? The night you got so drunk that you left your shoes in the bar?”. Your hands went to his chest as you laughed, recalling that night like it was yesterday despite it being almost a month ago now.  

“Yeah, and we got soaked trying to find a hotel for the night,” You said with a smile. 

Rindou couldn’t remember why he had grabbed the bike instead of his perfectly good Mercedes, only that he was in a hurry to get to you before something happened. He had regretted his decision the moment he left and saw the clouds blocking out the stars, cursing himself the entire ride and just hoping the weather would hold. You had been so happy to see him, smiling from ear to ear and slightly swaying back and forth as you shouted at him from across the small parking lot, jumping into his arms and nearly sending him to the ground as you kissed his face. But that wasn’t the moment that stuck out to Rindou the most. It was when the rain had started to fall as soon as you had gotten a block away from the bar. Finding a hotel not booked full on a Friday was going to be a chore but seemed like the only option because he wasn��t about to take the bike on the freeway in a steady rain with you having on nothing but the spare helmet, his jacket, and the flimsy dress you worn to the party. The red light had just changed and he had shot forward a little too fast, an excited squeal escaping your lips as he flew through the intersection and took a left onto a side street. The feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist made him smile, your face pressed against his back, looking in his side mirror to see your eyes scrunched shut against the rain as you laughed and gripped him tighter. He remembers his stomach twisting and a flush burning his cheeks because he realized in that simple moment that he was in love with you. And it was the next day that he had started to pull away, dropping you off at home with a hangover so he could run away and spend the next week hiding. From everything. From everyone. He had honestly debated just changing his number and disappearing from your life before anything from his dangerous lifestyle could overlap and drag you under like the ocean tide. But after not hearing from him for a week you had shown up at his door, his favorite take-out in hand and demanding to know why his phone was off. Rindou was barely able to tear his eyes away from you as you went around and tidied his kitchen, grabbing a couple of plates from the dishwasher for the food and asking what kind of detergent he uses so you could buy him more. That was the closest Rin had come to crying in a long time, the overwhelming feeling of all your care healing a part of him he didn’t know was broken. That aided in his need to keep you at arm’s distance, so you wouldn’t be hurt. 

“I knew I loved you that night,” He said, red tinting his cheeks as he pressed his forehead to yours. It felt like your heart was in your throat, airways tight and barely able to utter anything other than a quiet “Really?” in response. 

“Yeah” He paused, sweeping this thumb against your cheek, “and I should have said it before now, I know. But I want to try… with you. Something real”. Fresh tears bubbled over your lash line, his eyes widening slightly at your reaction and immediately moving his hands to wipe the dripping from your flushed cheeks. 

“I’m not good at talking about feelings. And god I hate saying I’m sorry but I mean it, I swear I do I’m-”. It was your turn to cut him off this time, sealing your lips against his as you pressed yourself against him. His hands went to cup your face, holding you as if you would break as you kissed him breathless. You didn’t think you had ever seen such a genuine look on Rindou’s face in the entire time you had known him, the love he was trying to express to you simmering in the shine of his eyes and dilation of his pupils, the violet ring of his irises barely visible in the low lighting. 

“Let me prove it to you,” He said in a heavy breath against your lips, “please”. You nodded, jumping to wrap your legs around his waist when his hands went to your thighs, your hands going to his shoulders to keep yourself steady as he refused to break your kiss. Even as he walked down the short hall to your room before dropping you on the bed. A short laugh as he kissed up from your ankle to your inner thighs had him smirking, biting softly against your flesh to pull more of those laughs from you. 

“Never took the time to love you, worship you like I should’ve,” Rindou said, so soft it seemed almost like it was meant only for him, even as his eyes flickered up to yours with so much regret you almost pulled him up to kiss him again. You gasped as his hands pushed your shirt up, revealing a pair of sleep boxers he had left here.

“Wearing my underwear I see,” He said with a faux accusatory tone.

“They’re comfy,” You said simply, pulling the bottom of your shirt up to hide your face, “And I missed you”. 

“Just for that, you can keep’em,” He said, chuckling as he snapped the loose waistband against your skin and made you squeak before pulling them down and dropping them off to the side. 

“Really did miss me didn’t you?” He asked with a groan as his fingers spread your folds, thumb grazing across your clit. 

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, slightly bucking your hips up into his touch. 

How could he resist you like this? Already wet and making sweet sounds for him when he had barely done anything at all. Rindou couldn’t help but smile. He finally had you, all to himself and not under some guise of casual sex. The drag of his tongue through your wetness had your toes curling and legs trying to clamp shut, unable to due to his strong hands keeping them open. The first time he had ever tasted you he was sure that there was nothing better but now he was certain. Sure to his soul that you were meant to be his for the rest of your lives. He could barely keep himself from rutting down into the mattress as you writhed against his mouth, clit becoming wet from his tongue and your juices. The whine you let out as he sunk his index finger inside had him groaning against your folds. 

"Rin, please, I need you," you gasped, left hand clinging to the sheets and the right burying into his hair, attempting to pull him up your body. 

"Wanna make you cum first sweetness," he muttered, giving your clit a hard suck and sinking his middle finger in beside the other already curling into your g-spot, "watch you cream around my fingers". Spots were popping in your vision as pleasure burned up and down your spine, legs flexing in his grip and broken cries filling any remaining silence that wasn't replaced with the lewd sound of his fingers pumping in and out.

"R-Rindou, Fuck!" You moaned clenching down around his fingers and shaking as your orgasm dragged its silky fingers through your bloodstream. 

"That's right baby, God you're so beautiful," He said with a deep groan, pretty eyes locked onto your face as if he was trying to memorize your pleasured expressions. Your heart was hammering as he pulled his fingers from your slickness and popped them in his mouth, sucking your cream off with an obscene sound that pulled fresh heat to your core. You sat up on your elbows and pulled the shirt over your head as he stood up and removed his clothes, settling above you almost chest to chest with a soft sound. You pushed the hair away from his face, your thumbs tracing over his cheekbones as you noticed the lightest dusting of freckles just at the bridge of his nose. You hadn't realized his eyes had drifted closed under your touch, his face relaxed as your delicate fingers burned love into his skin. 

"You're beautiful Rin" you breathed, your left hand leaving his face to trace down to the dark ink in his shoulder and chest. You remembered how raw his flesh had been after the lining and start to the shading, red and angry as the pained expression on his face. But now after a handful of years the edges had faded a little into his skin, the obvious care he had put in showing through the well-preserved ink where it was thickest. Rindou had been beautiful the moment you met him but now with him practically bearing his soul to you and looking at you with those violet eyes you loved more than the sunrise, he was breathtaking. He never was much for your staring though, opting instead to press against you and steal a kiss. 

"You ready for me Angel?" He asked almost breathlessly, one hand going down to fist his thick cock. 

"Please Rin," you whined, angling your hips up until he finally grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders. You pulled him down to you as he pushed in, sealing your lips with his and snaking your tongue into his mouth as you both groaned from the stretch, knees now by your head and shaking as he nearly pressed against your cervix at this angle. 

"So wet for me baby, fuuck" Rindou groaned low in his throat as he pulled back before slowly pressing in again, the pleasure of his veiny cock dragging along your walls sending sparks across your skin. You could barely breathe as your next orgasm grew like a wildfire in your gut, scorching down to your fingertips as you cried out and spasmed around him. 

"Came again already? Feel that good?" Rin asked, skimming his nose down your jaw as he continued his slow but rough thrusts, aimed perfectly at the spot that had your toes nearly cramping. 

"Uh-huh" you mumbled, eyes screwed shut as you shivered against the pulsing feel still buzzing through you. 

"My shaky little bunny, so good for me" He groaned, fingers digging into the sheets, "but I can't wait anymore, wanna fuck that greedy little cunt full". You nearly came again from the guttural growl that tore from his throat when you tightened around him like a vice grip. The bed began to creak as his thrusts sped up, both of you turning into a moaning, panting messes as he bullied his cock into your tight heat. 

"Baby. Baby, I don't think I'm gonna last much longer-Fuck-  with you sucking me in like this" he choked through a broken moan, his hands releasing the sheets and replacing them on your hip and thigh to keep you pressed into the mattress. 

"Pl-Please Rin fill me up, I need your cum. Please" you begged, pleasured tears pooling in your eyes as you felt your arousal drooling out around his fat cock drilling your insides. You could have sworn you felt the head of his cock thump your insides as he twitched, pulling your face to his for a kiss as he throbbed inside of you. 

"Cum with me baby, please. Wanna feel you" He nearly whined, fingers of the hand still pressing your thigh digging in with a bruising grip. Two more savage pumps of his hips and you were clawing his back and crying out against his tongue, the feeling of his hot cum filling your insides as he panted against your lips only heightening the pleasure. Rindou's arms gave out under him, rolling to his side and pulling you to his chest to stay inside of you for a bit longer, this newfound possessive side of himself not quite willing to let his cum leak from you just yet. You don't know how long you two laid there, sharing soft kisses and soaking up just being together finally without restrictions. The fingers of one hand went to trace his cheekbones again, and down to his jaw, all the way until you were running along the edges of the Bonten mark. You felt his eyes on you, watching you as you admired the skin of his throat with your light touch, violet eyes looking into yours even as his intense gaze had your cheeks burning. But as you slowly traced along his tattoo you felt the soft puffs of sleeping breath fanning across your wrist, looking up to see Rindou had drifted off, pretty eyes that showed everything he tried to hide tucked away under soft lids and lashes.  His eyes had been the first thing to draw you to him, the color so bright and unique it had made your stomach swim and all you could think of was seeing him again. See those beautiful eyes light up when you walked into a room or how Cloudy they get under his lustful gaze. How they made you feel like you were going ninety down the highway and like you were coming home for comfort in the same look. How he made you love the color violet.

Tagging:@tokyoredlightdistrict​ 

[shadowsepiphany]

Giving in| myg.

Synopsis: it should be simple. He was your professor and you were his student. But literature taught you both, that passion was a sensation, that overwhelmed rational thinking. Passion was a feeling that was made for giving in.

pairing: teacher!yoongi x reader

genre: smut, romance

Rating: mature.

warnings: mature language and content, sexual content, former teacher! x student (both are consenting adults), dirty talk, use of the nickname princess, soft dom! yoongi

word count: 2,1k / m.list

Your fingertips are staining his keyboard as you  type your  words down, nonchalantly and quietly, as if your last breath was to linger on your blood wine lips soon, as if the tempo of your heart was going down like the words on the paper. His eyes were reflecting the moon that sat above you two as he looked at his laptop, lost in thoughts and finger between his lips. You shouldn't be here, knees kept together with pressure and gaze fixating him too long, his little grin telling you that in fact, he did notice your little act. You couldn't look away, not even if someone would force you to, if someone would grab your jaw and try to shift your eyes away, you would return them to him, with new anticipation. How couldn't you? His nostrils flaring simple and beautiful breaths, his lips parted and painted with the wine you shared. 

“You're making this really hard”

His Voice awakes you in an instant as you try to concentrate on your work again, failing as his gummy smile makes your heart flutter. His expression was dazzling, how he was able to lose himself in his work, like he was made for it. A purple light, created by leds that were led one balcony away from his, were creating an intense contrast to his usual hard surface, an enchanting view to be straining after him once more.

“Why? You are the one, refusing.” 

Your reminder sits deep in your throat and his eyebrow raises as you bite your lip, not trying to tempt him, but simply being nervous and falling into this old habit of yours. It wasn't easy, sitting here and trying to act like an adult, when you were driven by passion for this man, ever since you saw him for the first time in an old classroom in college. His low mumbling voice, intellectual yet distracting to the point where you were unable to recognize any sense behind his words, only his tone striking you and his high setted standards, everyone complaining about him being impossible to please, events, still lost in your memory, lingering in your head like the sun above the sky.

 Now, you were barely 22 and he still was a professional teacher, just not your teacher anymore. Facts that made your barrier crack in completely while his was obviously still up. He was careful with his actions and words but even more with his desires, but somewhere amidst his innocent act, he was tensed and anxiety driven, by your bare leg and your soft gaze, a man was all he was in the end and he could feel it with every second that passed.

“You were my student Y/N, after all. “

“So? I have been an adult since the day we met, Yoongi.”

You, using his name instead of addressing him with mr. min, sparked some sense of interest in him and strong discontent at your behaviour at the same time, eyebrows knitted and shoulders rolled back, an hostile glare sending warnings through your body. He didn't know what he expected when he invited you, trying to teach you some things about literature when in reality, you resembled every page of literature he has ever read. So, even though he did not know what he expected, he knew what he dreamt of and the image of you crying out his name until sunrise was flooding his brain, no matter how hard he was trying to shut it off.

His urge to sleep with you wasn't exactly what caused the concern to be mirrored in his expression, mouth drawn back and his moral pained face was now near your own, it was rather how he wanted it to be: love, beautiful, sensational and slow, almost like a teenage girls dream and it almost caused him to sink to the woodend ground.

He watched, as you bit your lip, the white mark your teeth left on your lower lip disappearing in a second, making him wish that they were his, instead of your own. Your hand was resting on your skin, underneath the dress you wore, he salivated your figure whole and felt his pants tightening with every second your eyes were fixated on his hands. He could almost hear your thoughts and he was horrified, sour by how easy he could get you so worked up. 

“You know what? Fuck it.” he mumbles and your eyes spark up, suddenly feeling almost overwhelmed by his stern expression, shamelessly gazing at you, like you overstepped boundaries never to be crossed.

He wanted to devour you and give your body what it needs, fulfill your dreams and desires until you melted in his touch. Feeling like that made him mad. So mad, he didn't kiss you the way he wanted you to, he damned you for his concealed feelings and you had no idea of his inner fight when you kissed him back, satisfaction filling up your body, despite a sense of stern anger filling up his.

“What do you want, princess? Tell me-” 

He kissed you down your neck, goosebumps shaking up your whole being as his hand wandered down your leg, your core tingling rather uncomfortably as the passion you felt made your heart almost jump out of your chest. You tried to keep your calm, even as his tongue licked slowly over a deep red spot he caused. Your breath hitched and his hand stopped, just underneath your blue dress, sitting there waiting, just like his eyes, lips parted and eyes sly, patience thinning with every breath.

“Won't you speak? I need consent darling.” 

You felt like you were in a shakespeare play, your nod and quiet permission causing the tragedy to happen like a butterfly effect, you didn't know at the time, but you were bound to find out as his hand finally proceeds to play with your underwear, the rest of yoongi's Body being motionless, enjoying every sensation he could hear escaping from your now dark red lips. Wine on the lips you kissed, instead of the usual beer on guys, reminded you how Yoongi was different from the rest and he didn't shy away from showing you exactly that, as he grabs you, suddenly just going inside and closing the balcony door, smoothly with one hand and throwing you on his bed with the other. 

“Up.” he said, his eyes on the skirt of your dress and you understood immediately as you obeyed. Your cheeks were a flushed red and your skin was glowing under the full moon shining through his balcony door. Your expression was shy, obedient and Yoongi swore he could have just cum from you being so submissive for him, his bulge being so visible, it hurt. Humans can be so easy and every emotion that floods through him made him feel like some sort of animal, hands unable to rest, your body mischievous, dark eyes devouring every curve it showed.

“Where is your witty mouth now hm?-”

He lowered his head and before you could grasp what was happening, he was already licking your folds, leaving you gasping and moaning rather quietly, which he saw as an evil challenge. His velocity increases, you lose the ability to breath as his name was now lingering in the air, your first orgasm approaching, as your stomach hurt, pleasure never being so present in your life, like it was right now as he- just stopped.

His Face was now in front of you again, a shocked expression painting yours, a grin being displayed on his. His cheeks were flushed as you put your hand on it, lightly smacking him as his grin widened, piercing eyes and a cocked head shamelessly mocking you.

“Now now princess, let's not get violent, where are your manners?”

He grabbed your hand as you tried to smack him again, his grin now disappearing completely as he pinned both of them above your head, his pressure increasing with every motion you made, trying to get him off of you, without success.

You knew you were being bratty, but what you also knew was how turned on Yoongi got whenever you disobeyed him. You noticed it, on the first missed assignment where you were telling him that his teaching wasn't even good enough for the amount of assignments you got. His darkening eyes told you everything about this man that you needed to know and locked an ecstatic desire for your professor in your brain.

However, when his eyes darkened now, his body above yours and his hard on way too present, you feared that you crossed the line today. 

“There she is, the brat. Even though you're already suffering from loss of words, but that's alright. your body tells me everything baby.”

You clenched around nothing with every word he spoke, elegantly and haunting, his way of expressing of course above those of the general, as a determined literature teacher. He put his finger inside you, at first only his patient appearing fingertips as you let out a huff of frustration. 

“beg.”

“please-” you found your words again, your voice sounding as if someone else was controlling you, passion letting every part of your brain shut off. “please Yoongi, need you, please.” 

He shoved his finger inside you, filling you up and wasting no time in preparing you. He was a man of honor, wanting his partner to suffer from pleasure, but at the end of the day he was still a mess, a man impatiently waiting for his own relief, especially when he was being teased by your expressions and moans. 

“You think you can take it?”

His voice grew shakier, his cock throbbing as you eyed it and nodded. The moment itself was simple: two people having sex. But it was beautiful, the way he gazed at you with adoration and you looked back with admiration. Passion lingering in the air and moans escaping both of your wine tinted lips as he finally entered you, at first slowly, teasingly, as if him putting on a condom wasn't enough time wasted in your opinion. You needed him rough and deep and he noticed that, but he wasn't going to hurt you. He adored you too much for that.

As he increased his speed, finally giving in to his own needs, your gasping and grabbing only burned your image in his brain even more. He wanted you, not only now but forever, beside him when he woke up and underneath him before going to sleep, ultimately in each other's arms. He fought the urge way too long now, your private sessions with him teaching you literature only taught him that he was smart but a coward at the same time. He knew that you wanted him, the only thing he was scared of was you not wanting him like that. 

“Are you mine?” 

His speed was even faster now and his questions weren't left unanswered as you found out how to speak again. “Yes, I am.” you whispered as he sucked on your neck, like creating a proof of your own words, displayed on your skin for everyone else to see. 

“good girl.” he spoke against your neck, making you clench around him, his hot breath still tickling your spot as he returned his face in front of yours again. The position was intimate, his hair was falling in front of his face, sweat on his temple making him almost glitter, he portrayed a greek god. You wanted to kiss him again, as you felt your orgasm approaching and thankfully, he felt the exact same way.

He kissed you again, passionately and hard as both of you came, almost at the same time. It was too good to be true, as he pulled out of you, your eyes closing softly and his arm around your shoulders, pressing your body into collapsing into his own. 

Your heart was slowing down, as you felt Yoongi disappearing into the world of dreams, his heartbeat calming you down. You didn't speak a word to each other that night, but it wasn't needed. You told each other everything you had to say while living up both of your darkest fantasies. The only thing you were scared of was the sudden realization of what you did.

You didnt have sex with Yoongi.

You made love.

[obeythedemons]

They Take MC to the Doctor [Obey Me! Headcanons]

Obey Me! Masterlist

Headcanon List

--

Lucifer

Will argue with the doctor if they dismiss their symptoms or just say they need more sleep or to lose weight

Has a huge list of all symptoms and their occurrences, knows more about what's happening to MC than MC really does

MC never realize just how closely he paid attention to what was going on

Realizes some of the stuff that's going on with them is not normal and is only brought to light because Lucifer realized it

Handles all of the insurance crap and works everything out so that everyone is in-network or takes MC to another country

MC never sees the bills or has to fill out any paperwork, he'll do it all for them.

Mammon

Also has a list of symptoms he's noticed, but is not as organized as Lucifer. He'll bring up things multiple times if the doctor waves it off before he starts yelling.

Keeps track of all of MC's medications and can surprisingly pronounce them correctly and spell them out correctly as well as the dosages - he's good with numbers.

Helps to hype MC up before a doctor's appointment and distract them from anything scary

Will hold MC's hand the entire time if they want, won't complain if they squeeze too hard.

Treats MC to something nice after an appointment as a reward

Leviathan

He's a weirdo that likes going to the doctor and likes the smell there.

He likes looking at the posters and models, he'll even go into depth and explain what they are and how they're different between humans and demons

He info dumps a lot at the doctor, both because he thinks it's interesting and because he's trying to distract MC from what's going on

Will be a blushing mess when he holds MC's hand when they're getting poked, but will do it to help his Henry

Has a list of demon doctors he's seen for a variety of ailments, so if MC needs a recommendation on who to see he'd be more than happy to give them the information

Satan

Knows what's wrong with MC and will make bring it up to the doctor

If the doctor dismisses either of them and says that a diagnosis is not important, he'll drag MC out and schedule an appointment to another doctor

He knows a lot of demons and people, so he'll make sure to find the best doctors for MC, even if it's just for a physical

Carries around a list of things MC takes, their medical conditions, and allergies so that he's prepared in case something happens - very useful when seeing a new doctor

Will read to MC while in the waiting room or examination room from the magazines or books they have out

Asmodeus

Brings his own bandages for MC when they get their blood drawn

He thinks his are cuter and MC deserves the best!

Dotes over MC the entire time, complimenting them and massaging any stress knots out of their muscles

Takes MC out on a self-care date after the appointment to help cheer them up and reward them for being so brave

Part of self-care is also making sure that MC takes care of their mind/body, so he's very good at reminding MC to take their meds, do their exercises, etc.

Beelzebub

Writes down notes so that he doesn't forget anything and listen attentively to the doctor. He'll ask questions if he doesn't understand something and makes sure MC also understands.

Makes sure MC gets a lollipop for being good - yeah, they're an adult, they still need one, right? Asks if he can have one, too.

Will still take MC out for a meal afterward to celebrate them.

Makes sure MC is taking care of their mind/body and will help them with anything and everything they need.

Will gladly hold MC's hand and offers it before MC even needs to ask.

Belphegor

Will get very snarky with the doctor if he thinks for even a second that the doctor is not taking MC seriously.

Knows MC's schedule almost perfectly - when they eat, when they sleep, when they take their meds, etc. He'll sometimes know it better than MC and can help communicate it to the doctor.

If MC is holding something back from the doctor or if they forget, they'll tell the doctor - it's for MC's own good even if they get mad.

Goes to Satan if he needs help finding doctors for MC.

Diavolo

The royal physicians should work well for MC, right? They're the best doctors in Devildom and are very knowledgeable in human medicine.

Want a human doctor? He'll bring in the world's leading experts in whatever fields MC needs - he'll cover the costs, don't worry, MC.

Tells MC he's always wanted to hold someone's hand when they're scared and will hold their hand just in case. He'll have the brightest smile on his face doing so because he can help his favorite human.

Will spend so much money and time trying to find better treatment options for MC if they're struggling with their symptoms.

Barbatos

Will help MC prepare a list of things that need to be covered at the appointment beforehand and will make sure MC is seeing only the best of the best.

Knows how drugs interact with each other just like how teas interact with different foods. He'll be vigilant to make sure MC won't have anything interact poorly.

He'll hold MC's hand and run his other hand through their hair to distract them from any blood draws.

Will praise MC for being brave during the doctor's appointment, even if it was something small.

He'll bake them a cake and serve them their favorite tea afterward

Simeon

Will have blessed MC beforehand so that they don't have to see the doctor too often, their ailments seem to have disappeared - at least their severity and how often they have them.

Is more than happy to go to the doctor with MC and will ask if they would like him to go with them.

Holds MC the entire time unless the doctor needs it. But the moment the doctor no longer needs it he'll hold it again while offering them that bright smile of his.

Also keeps a handwritten list of questions MC has for the doctor in case they want to reference it at any time.

Luke

He's very serious about his duties at making sure MC takes care, so he'll set reminders for MC to make a doctor's appointment or encourages them to make one when something is wrong.

Gets frustrated when he has to leave the room, but respects MC's privacy. Tells them that if they need him to go back and protect them they just need to holler for him.

Also blesses MC to keep them healthy - it's stronger than Simeon's blessing. He just doesn't realize how strong his blessings really are.

Has cookies or MC's favorite dessert ready for them immediately after the appointment - he made them beforehand to reward them.

Solomon

He's studied medicine a lot in his immortal life and is pretty familiar with everything. He can diagnose MC, just not legally. He's not licensed. So he'll tell MC exactly which specialist they need to see to get the medications or treatments they need.

He has connections so MC doesn't have to wait months just to see said specialist.

He can work magic to help MC with their symptoms if they allow him to.

If MC has something and it really bugs or hurts them, he'll work hard to find a cure for them.

[grippingbeskar]

The Element of Surprise | Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: The Rebels

mando x fem!reader

word count: 5.6k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (sexual intercourse mxf, marking/bruises, slight pain kink, pain after sex) swearing, general sexual content, din being hot as fuck

a/n: while I sat at home on a Saturday night and wrote the longest smut chapter I have ever written, it does make me wonder where I went wrong. or right. either way, thank you for staying with me. also please let me know if im missing any warnings, i go back through to edit but im worried im missing something so pls let me know!! :)

p.s: also just a note my spaceship knowledge only comes from me being a star wars nerd and watching the movies and shows, so it’s most likely not accurate but IM MAKING IT UP okay it’s fine

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Your first inhale smells of vanilla, and you know it well. Moving your head further into his neck, your body slowly catches up to your brain, each part of you fidgeting slightly as you wake up. You can feel the rise of his chest against you, the deep, slow breathing coming through the modulator in beat with your own. You don’t know if hes asleep or if he just sits that still all the time, but when you move your hips slightly, he groans in response, and you know hes wide awake.

“Hi.” You say into his neck, and you realise you are still straddling him, arms wrapped around his shoulders, his own holding you in position as he adjusts the ships path behind you. Unwrapping your hands, you use his chest to push yourself upright, and he clicks a final button before leaning back into the chair, helmet slowly scoping you up and down.

“Hi.”

“You should have woken me up. I would have done that.” You tilt your head back to the control board. You are in desperate need of practise, the small movement you did last night a baby step in the right direction.

“First day and you’re already sleeping on the job.” Your head shifts back slightly, and your jaw opens in a little bit of shock that hes so sassy this early in the morning. At least you think it’s early, the darkness of the galaxy behind you showing no sun, but still lighter than it was on Ryloth.

“Hey! You told me t-“

“Shh. You needed sleep. We have plenty of time to practise. At least two days before we reach the next planet.” One of his hands come under your chin to shut your jaw before you can bite back, so you roll your eyes instead. You turn to look behind you, getting a good picture of the absolute emptiness of the galaxy. At least there’s no chance of you hitting anything out here.

“Where’s Grogu?” You turn back, relaxing your hips on top of him and his hands drop to them, holding you in place.

“The hull. Still sleeping, its early.” You just nod, trying to think of something to say, but all you can concentrate on is how hard is he underneath you, both of you still unsatisfied from last night.

You are insatiable when your around him, and the only reason you didn’t jump him as soon as you got him alone last night was because you don’t think you had a proper sleep for two days and the intensity of your ‘brush’ with death knocked you out cold. His hands stay on your hips, gripping you tightly, just enough that it wouldn’t leave a mark, but you want him to, so you grind against him, feeling his thumbs dig into the sharp bone. You moan in response, and he gets the message, holding you tighter, slowly dragging you up and down against him in small movements.

“Fuck, Din.” You never get tired of saying his name, and saying it here, when hes making you feel so good like this, you don’t think you ever will.

“Sh-shit. That feel good?” He drags you up and down again, harder this time, the pressure against your tight core so hard its almost painful, but the pleasure is too good to think about it. You nod, and another moan is drawn from you, that familiar feeling bubbling under the surface.

“Yeah, I know baby. You know how much I missed you? Missed this?” Your eyes flutter open and hes only looking at your face. If you weren’t feeling so fucking hot right now you might have been embarrassed, but you’re so comfortable with him you don’t think there’s anything you wouldn’t let him do right now.

“Tell me, please. Din.” He sets a deadly slow pace, loosening his grip just slightly so you can move and put his rock-hard cock right against the small bundle of nerves and you jerk against him, his hands tightening again.

“Couldn’t help myself when you called. Looked so fucking good touching yourself, just for me.” He moans and leans his helmet into your chest, your hands coming up to grip the sides as leverage. You’re panting and you can’t focus on anything, all your energy devoted to feeling him. “Got me hard from miles away, nearly came straight back when you hung up.” You regain enough consciousness to register the words, and your voice cracks as you reply.  

“Really?”

“Yes, cyar’ika. I would do anything if you asked me to.” The desperation in his voice, how his breathing stutters when you grind down on him – if you’d known you that you would have locked the doors and kept him here forever. Now that you know what that name means, too; Maker. You cry out as you get closer and closer. You can feel how hard he is, every move he drags you through a slow torture for the both of you.

“Din, I want to feel you.” You moan and drop your forehead to the top of his helmet, the weight of your head suddenly too heavy to hold on your own.

“Not -ngh. Not yet. I want you to make yourself cum like this. Its a-all I could think about, being in this chair. Underneath you.” You let out a shaky breath and try to concentrate on the movement of your hips, but your body is heavy with lust. Luckily Dins strong hands aid you more than enough to lead. The delicious feel of him running along you only makes you hotter. Every time you’re with him is better than the last, a whole new kind of sensation taking over your senses.

“Good girl. Use me, come on.” He encourages, his hands digging deeper into your hips, and you whimper at the thought of the marks they will leave tomorrow. “Is this okay?” Whispering through the modulator, your heart thumps in your chest. Even like this, both of you so incredibly close, he still checks in with you, clearly aware of how hard hes holding you.

“Y-Yes. I want to see it. Harder, Din.” He obliges, grinding you down with his hands. Your eyes squeeze shut and your entire body tenses with pleasure, tingles shooting up your spine and filling your lower stomach. When you whimper again, he laughs under you, short and dark.

“You like that, huh? You like that your gonna see exactly where my hands have been. Exactly where I held you when you came.” You cry out, his name coming out in the midst of a bunch of curse words that didn’t make sense. “You close, baby?”

You were a whimpering mess, the only reason you hadn’t come yet was the torturous pace he set was slow and hard, stoking the fire inside of you just enough to edge you, and he knew it.

“Come for me, then.” His low, deep voice fills your ear and his hands move your hips faster. It only takes a few beats of that incredible pace for you to explode, throwing your head back, Dins quick arm behind your back the only thing that kept you on the chair.

His other hand kept its hold on you, pushing you through your everlasting orgasm. Your abs tense furiously and your whole body is shuddering – you’ve never felt this fucking good in your entire life. Every part of your body is alive and electric, and when you finally come down you are gasping for air in the small space between you both. His other hand comes up to lift your head on his helmet.

“I want to kiss you so bad right now.” You say as your lungs stop burning and oxygen returns to your brain. You blink your eyes at his visor, and your eyelashes brush against the inky black. He ‘hmm’s in response, so you bring your hips down on top of him again with a little bit of force, both of you jerking into the action, him still hard as fuck under you. Instantly you know what you want, shimming out of his grip to get on your knees in front of him.

“Baby, I-“

“Let me. I want to.” A low groan comes from the modulator, and he physically rips his arm off the chair, seemingly fighting himself to lean forward and cup your face.

“Believe me, I want that so badly. I-I dream about it.” Your eyebrows come together in confusion. “But if I’m not inside of you right now, I don’t think we will ever leave this ship.” He gently pulls you by your face back onto his lap, the contrast of his touch from just minutes ago sending a new wave of shivers down your spine.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He laughs lightly underneath you, and you don’t waste a second, hands working to remove the belt holding up his pants. The buckle loosens and you throw it somewhere behind the chair, next trying to figure out the armour. There’s so much beskar you can’t find any part that looks like a zipper. Or buttons. Maker, why the fuck is this so complicated?

You look up at him, but he just leans back, both his hands coming up behind his head, content to watch you struggle. Seriously? He looks so cocky, his head slanted slightly looking down on you, and if you weren’t so desperate right now you would register how sexy it looks.

Its his turn to struggle, you think, so you stop trying to figure out the pants, instead running your fingers down his chest, starting in the centre, tracing the lines of his complicated set up until you reached his cock. You could feel it throbbing through his pants, and your palm applies just a little bit of pressure. The choked gasp that comes from him feeds your ego, and you push harder against him, flicking your hair to the other side of your head and looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Something wrong?” You ask innocently, and you can hear how much hes struggling to breath under your hand’s movement. You apply more pressure, wondering if he has the same register for pain and pleasure as you do. You remember that moment on the ship just before he left, and you follow your curiosity.

His breath is short and uneven, the modulator amplifying every tiny sound he makes. It gets you so wet that you almost let your spare hand drift down to your underwear, but you want to focus on him. You wish you could feel him in your mouth, you would make him feel so good, but this is the next best thing, and you’re going to make him feel as hot as he makes you. You can feel the outline of him against your palm, so you wrap your hand around him, tight. Another choked gasp comes out of him, but he hasn’t said anything, so you keep your grip where it is and move it up and down his length. The evidence of your own orgasm lines his pants, making it easier for you to slide your hand along him, and when you reach the tip of him, his hand flies down to catch your wrist.

“Fuck. F-fuck – I’m going to cum if you-“ he forces himself to take a breath “if you don’t stop. I need to fuck you, please.” He takes the initiative, ripping the seam of his pants and shoving them down his thighs, and you smile up at him, happy with your work. You run your hands along his tanned legs, and you want to take your time to worship every part of him. When you finally see his cock come into view, your mouth actually waters. The tip is red and already beading with pre cum, and you bite your lip, looking back up at Din.

“C’mere.” He mumbles, still breathless. You shuffle up to him and realise you still have your underpants on. You reach down to move them out of the way, but Dins gloved hands beat you to it, tearing them in half and discarding the pieces over his shoulder.

“Din!” As hot as that was, you only have a limited amount of clothes. “I only have like five pairs with me.” You laugh against his helmet, clearly not that upset.

“Don’t wear ‘em. You don’t need them.” His voice is still that deep pitch, seductive and rough. The lights in the cockpit paired with the lights from the stars outside illuminate you both enough that he can’t take his helmet off without you seeing his face, and as much as you want his mouth on yours, once he finally fucks you, you don’t know if you would be able to control your eyes enough. He knows this, you think, which is why he just pulls you closer, discarding his gloves so he can touch you.

He slides into you with ease, and there’s still a tinge of pain as your body adjusts to him again. He sighs, and it matches yours as you both melt into each other, your entire body relaxing around him. One hand gets lost in your hair, the other wrapping around you, pulling you into him and holding you in place.

“How does it feel?” He asks against your cheek, and you tighten around him, causing him to almost growl, a feral sound ripping through his body. You can feel it vibrate through his chest.

“So good, Din. Sososo good.” Mumbling a string of words, he takes the hint and moves, pulling out of you halfway and gently thrusting back into you.

Its not enough, and you push up on shaky legs, letting yourself drop down, sliding from tip to base, your ass smacking against his thighs.

“You want it harder, princess?” He calls you so many names, each one having a different effect on you. You nod unable to form a word as he slams his hips up into you, hitting a spot you have never felt before. “You just had to ask. Ill fuck you nice and hard. Give you what you want.”

He always would. He slams into you again, and again, hitting that spot each time and your eyes roll back into your head. He sets a fast pace, the explicit sounds of your ass smacking against him only adding to the sensation. He says your name once, then again, and grabs your face, not stopping his brutal thrusts as he forces you to look at him through the visor.

“Tell me who’s the only one that can fuck you like this.” He grunts, each time he slams into you your heads knock together slightly.

“You! Din- fuck! No one but you.” You have no idea how you manage the words, Dins hand wrapped in your hair pulling slightly, just enough to feel the pressure of it. Your hands scramble over his chest and back, desperate to find something to hold onto, but Din lets go of you for a second and releases whatever was holding his armour on his chest and back, exposing the skin you missed so much. Instantly your nails dig into him, and his arm returns to your back, keeping you upright while he fucks you, hard.

“I’m gonna fill you up so good, cyar’ika.” You were drunk on this feeling, the feeling of him inside you, how hard he was slamming into you, the moment you felt him finish inside you, you knew you would follow.

“Please, pleaseimsocloseDin..” Hes moaning in your ear, and your surprised you can hear him over your own, practically holding back sobs as he stretches you so good every thrust, your entire body sparking with electricity.

His thrusts stutter only twice and you feel him fill you, his hips jutting as he tries to keep his pace for you, but he doesn’t have to try long as the sensation of him finishing inside of you is your own undoing, and you both grasp onto each other, shaking with each other’s pleasure.

You scream out his name and he groans out yours, the pace of his thrusts slowing as you both ride out your highs. Eventually his hips stop, but he doesn’t pull out of you. You don’t want him to, and you slump against his body, taking the same position from this morning as you slept, your head nuzzling into his neck.

“Close your...” Hes so out of breath he doesn’t finish the sentence, but you know what he means, the hiss of the helmet being detached sends your body into a whole new kind of alert. It drops to the floor and instantly his soft hands are pulling your lips to his.

The kiss is slow; beautiful. His lips move against yours at a bruising force, but he moves at no hurried pace. It’s perfect, and exactly what you needed to bring you back to earth. You both pull away, only because the burn of your lungs reminds you that you actually need to breath, and its suddenly an inconvenience, given the choice you would gladly choose his lips over your need for oxygen.

“Your fucking perfect. You know that?” Hes still close to you, his hair tickles your damp forehead.

“Cyar’ika.” You say to him, and it feels right coming out of your mouth. You can feel his smile, your lips brushing against his teeth as he does so. You wish you knew more words in Mando’a so you could make him smile like that forever.

“Sounds pretty when you say it” he says against your mouth, greedily kissing your mouth, biting your lower lip before pulling away. “You feeling okay?” His hand rubs soothing circles on your lower back, and you feel his head drop to examine the marks he left on your hip, fingers brushing over the sensitive spot, and you suck in a breath.

“Sorry. Sorry.” He kisses your nose and then your lips and you shake your head.

“Its fine, just fresh. I like it. I’m good, promise.”

“Good.” He starts kissing your neck, and you sigh into his touch, his hands underneath your shirt freely exploring the still covered skin.

“You know what you said about ‘never leaving this ship’?” he mumbles a reply against your skin, and you laugh. “Well, I will never let you leave again if you keep going like that.” He laughs and leaves one long kiss on your jaw before leaving your skin. You keep your eyes closed as he lays back, and its then that he slips out of you, slowly. Din adjusts his pants so that they come up over his cock, discarding the rest of his upper body armour to the side and pulling you against his bare chest, your head tucking under his chin. “I’m serious. I’m not letting you leave again.”

“You’re the captain. I guess I have to listen to you.” The honey laced voice fills the room and its the first time since hes taken his helmet off that you appreciate it, wanting to always take the time to remember what he sounds like.

“Yup. I’m going to tie you up and keep you in this chair.” That sounded a lot dirtier than you meant, but he just laughs.

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” He says into the top of your head, planting a sweet kiss there. Your eyebrows shoot up, but you can’t move your head for the risk of seeing his face. “I can hear you thinking. Get your mind out of the gutter.” You huff and he laughs again, moving you with him as he does.

“You started it.” Another mumble to the top of your head is all you get, and as the ship buzzes around you, you think you would have fallen asleep had you not slept for so long the day before. “Two days till the next planet, right?” He nods against you. “Where are we going?”

“Corellia. Need some parts for the ship. Next targets there too.” You nod against him now, and its nice to know you have a bit of time with him before he leaves again. “You can look it up in the book, but its – safer. You can come with me, and the kid. If you want.”

“Of course I do.”

“Might be a couple days.”

“I don’t care. I want to.” You wrap your arms around his back, trying to get closer to him. Now that he wasn’t inside you, nothing seemed close enough.

“Okay. Then you’ll come.” He kisses your head again. “Get some more flying lessons in before we land, too.” Your heart warms, him just as enthusiastic to teach you as you are to learn. “You can’t try to sleep with your instructor every time, though.”

You slap his chest and laugh, him trapping your hand and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it.

“Why not? Worked well for me this time.”

“Mhmm. It did. Just have to test it again, then.”

“Now who has their mind in the gutter?” you tease, and he squeezes you in his arms. This is what happiness feels like, you think. Being squished in Dins arms, planning your next few days together, the kid giggling behind you outside the door.

Wait.

“Grogu!” you shout at the same time Din does.

“Kid!” He goes to spin the chair, but you frantically whack him.

“Din! Pants!” he says nothing for a second, then you think he realises.

“Im wearing pants.” His tone is flat, clearly confused. Maker...

“No. Me. No pants. Underwear in half on floor. Stick with me, please.” A quiet ‘ohhh’ comes from him, and he kisses your forehead before flipping you so you are on the chair. You can hear his footsteps leaving the cockpit as the door shutters open, picking up the kid in one arm, his helmet and armour in the other.

“Come downstairs when you’re ready.” You respond with a quick ‘yep!’ wanting Grogu away from the door as soon as possible, the embarrassment eating you up inside. You know all parts of this place are soundproof, and the door won’t open for anyone but Din, but you don’t want to scare the poor little guy. As Din leaves, you hear him mumble the words ‘lesson’ and ‘poor timing’ to Grogu, and a little of your embarrassment is subsided with the knowledge he wouldn’t have been able to see anything, Dins calmness confirming it.

You go to stand and immediately fall on your ass, your legs giving out underneath you. A slight pain shoots up your inner thigh, and you hear Dins voice call out your name.

“Im good! It’s fine.” Damn, he really did a number on you. As much as the pain is ever present as you push yourself off the floor and hobble down the hallway to your room on the right, you can’t wipe the grin off your face. It’s a good pain, and you hope it never goes away, a physical reminder of what you did just minutes ago. As you slide into a new pair of shorts, your fingers brush over the small, finger shaped bruises that frame your hip bones, flinching under your own touch. A purple hue sits under your skin at the points of contact, and you shift your shorts, so they don’t touch, not wanting to ruin the shape of them. Running your fingers through your hair you exit the room, taking a moment to look back, your heart swelling at the memory of the first time you saw it.

You pass the cockpit, going to head down the ladder when the door opens automatically. You stop, turn to face it and stare. How did it open? You take a few steps back, watching the doors come together, the light from the cockpit fading and letting the hallway fall into darkness again. You take two steps forward and they swing open again. Huh. He mustn’t have changed the doors back, usually they only opened when he was here. You knew he changed the security system when he left, but you assumed he would have switched it back. You hear the familiar clunk of his footsteps up the ladder, and you stay standing in front of the open doors.

“They open for me now.” Stepping out of the way again for a demonstration, you jump back in front, watching them slide open without hesitation.

“Yeah. Kept it like that, its easier.” He steps past you, and gentle hand coming on the small of your back to move in, strapping the kid in his seat.

“Huh.” He obviously doesn’t think that’s a big deal, and maybe it isn’t compared to what you were doing this morning, but your stomach fills with butterflies.

You know how paranoid he is and living for so long on his own you wouldn’t think he would factor in anyone to his life, let alone his ships security systems. You had no idea what you were both doing, every time you were together your crush on him only grew. You didn’t just fuck, what you shared was special and intimate, it had a substance of something behind it, you just weren’t sure how mutual the feeling was, but this was his version of telling you. Him cleaning out that room for you was the first, and now you can come and go as you please, knowing to add automatic features to one door would add them to everything.

“You...okay?” He looks over at you from the kid’s chair, and you realise your still standing in the doorway. You nod and go to take a step, using the doorway to support your still sore legs. Faster than you can process, Din is at your side, one hand on your ribcage. “What’s – Did I do something?”

“What? Oh! Well technically, yes.” You smile at him and he huffs out a breath. “Nothing bad though. Just a bit sore.” He doesn’t leave your side until you flop down in the chair, realising hes led you to the pilots chair, and he is not underneath you. “Wait, you’re not going to help?” He leans on the chair next to you, the kid happily gurgling behind.

“I’m right here, but you don’t need my help.” The confidence in his words almost makes you believe him. “Besides, you find something to hit out here, and I’ll give you ten credits.” You roll your eyes and look out to the open space; you can’t even see a hint of a planet. You know hes right. Taking a deep inhale, you can skip the first few steps of your last lesson, already committing them to memory.

“Okay.”

“This here is the navigation lock. Set any co-ordinates using these knobs here-“ He points out the screen and three knobs lining the side of it “-and she’ll take you there. Then its just a matter of controlling speed and altitude. It’ll keep you on course, but you can always manual override.”

“How do I do that again?”

“Just start steering, it breaks the auto system.” Leaning forward, he reads you out some co-ordinates, and you check against the altitude to make sure everything matches. “Now check these. Fuel gage- “he taps the green circle above your head “- and oxygen level.” Both arrows were pointing in the green sections, so you assume that means they were good. He goes through a few of the other buttons above your head, one to a small microphone allowing you to contact other ships, another that neutralises oxygen in the cockpit. “Any questions?” You shake your head and swallow. You don’t have any questions, that was true, but mainly because you think you forgot everything he said the minute he stood up and came behind you to show the buttons on the roof. His helmet loomed over your shoulder, you could see the reflection of him in the glass in front of you, broad shoulders nearly doubling your size. “Good.”

You move, adjusting the touchpad, dragging your finger over the side and the speed picks up. Its less scary this time, and you know you’re in open space, so you let yourself apply a little more pressure. You check the gages, buttons and screens around you, asking Din when you see one you don’t know. You check the altitude again, the nav systems all blinking green, and you feel a slight pull to the right, your hand going to reach for the manual direction when a gloved one stops you.

“It’s fine. Look.” You stare down and see the flight pattern on the tiny screen, seeing your slight right on course.

“There’s a lot less actual flying than I thought.” Sitting back in the chair, suddenly out of things to do. Din doesn’t move from behind you.

“She pretty much flies herself. Smooth, right?” You nod. It really was; the buzzing of the engine no longer vibrating through your feet as you glide through the atmosphere.

“How long have you been flying?”

“Since I was a kid. When I was picked up as a foundling, they taught me to fly as part of training. I’ve only had the Crest a couple of years, though.” Hes only opened up about his past a handful of times, and you soak in every word. Training that young, sounded kind of sad, but you guess it wasn’t really that different from you, your earliest memories training your sensitivity to the Force with your father. It also wasn’t that different from how you were training the kid now, even though you weren’t exactly sure how old he was.

“How fast does it go?” You ask, him laughing in the dim light. He takes a breath to say something, but suddenly a ship appears out of thin air, and you have to move fast to slow down, the engine groaning under the sudden break.

“What the fuck was that?” Your ship comes to a complete stop and hovers in front of the fighter jet. Rebel colours stripe the outside of it, the orange and yellow a beacon against the dark space.

“Just fighter jets coming out of hyperspace. They’ll pass, unless they’re on patr-“ Hes cut off by the blinking light coming on next to the microphone. You both look at each other, then back at the light. “I’ll do the talking.” You nod, sinking back and letting him reach over to click the speaker. “This is Razor Crest. Is there a problem, officers?” Static breaks the silence and an unfamiliar voice comes through.

“We noticed your transponders’ not omitting.” They sound young, but not angry. Hopefully that’s a good sign.

“Yes, I’m pre-empire surplus. I’m not required to run one.” You have no idea what this means but he seems to know what hes talking about.

“That was before. All aircrafts are required to run one now.” Your head looks up and your clearly worried, but his hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb drawing small lines along your collarbone.

“Thank you for letting us know.”

“No problem.” The transmission cuts out and you sigh. That was way easier than you thought. You sit up, ready to move the ship again but they haven’t moved.

“Just one more thing.” Comes through the microphone, and Din lets out an annoyed sigh. “We need you to send us a ping.” You both look over at Grogu, who sits behind you, distracted by a ball.

“Uh, I’m not sure I have those systems online.” You turn to face him, watching his body language and trying to figure out what he wants to do.

“We can wait.” The voice says. These guys aren’t half as scary as the Empire, but you could still get in some trouble, not knowing what kind of debts Din has to pay, and your slate isn’t exactly clean with the Rebels either. That’s not even thinking of the kind of trouble Grogu would cause. Din stands there in silence, shrugging at you. He hasn’t moved, clearly not interested in giving them what they want, and he lies.

“Yeah, doesn’t seem to be working.” If you weren’t so stressed you would have laughed, a small smirk coming across your face, and Dins hand comes up to touch the side of your mouth, holding your eye contact.

“Then you’ll have to come with us to the nearest docking station to do a full sweep of the ship.” You still don’t detect any aggression in their voices, but they are definitely suspicious of you. And a full sweep of the ship? You don’t even want to know what kind of things Din has hidden in here, and the idea of anyone else invading this small space the three of you share makes your skin crawl.

You start looking at the controls, searching for an option, a manoeuvre you haven’t seen, a way out. Din leans down to your level, his whisper so low the rebels wont be able to hear it, but you do, and it sends those familiar sparks down your back.

“You want to see how fast she goes?” A wicked smile spreads across your face, and he slides into the chair next to you, strapping himself in. Silently, he points out the switch you have to flick, and you nod, one hand on the chair preparing to be shot back.

“You need to come with us. Pulling up to engage exterior lock.” The fighter swerve’s to come up next to you, but as soon as you see the opportunity of open space you don’t waste a second, flicking the switch sending all three of you whirring into hyperspace, the Rebels never even having a chance.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

taglist!!

@dindjarinsmut​

@kirsteng42​

@readsalot73​

@razzle-my-berries​

@solomonssimp​

@im-a-slut-for-fluff​

@bvcky-brns​

@missswriter​

@fishthemenace​

@avatarkanemi​

@sparklykeylime​

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

DC (Batman)

Latchkey by goldkirk

or, How Tim Drake Found A Family, Became A Photojournalist, Learned To Love Coffee, and Grew Up, not necessarily in that order.

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird nextdoor neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there.

charity by Valkirin

The biggest downside of being adopted by Bruce Wayne is putting up with rich people events, including one where Jason will be in a room with a bunch of rich kids for a couple very long hours while Bruce goes to the adults' meeting. Jason is ready for a very bad time but the Drake kid listens to him from the start and keeps backing up Jason's ideas even though they've never met.

Jason warms up to Tim Drake long before Mad Hatter tries to take over the meeting and Tim backs him up again.

these fault lines (weren't drawn quite right) by RecklessWriter

“Never have I ever cheated on my girlfriend!” Roy snarled. The air stilled, and for a moment everything stopped.

A simple drinking game gives Jason an insight into the end of Dick and Kory's relationship. But it soon becomes clear that there's more to the story.

The Witcher

Winter Solace by Bedalk05

Geralt brings Jaskier to Kaer Morhen. It goes as well as could be expected.

Our Flag Means Death

do no harm, take no shit by holsmi

Mary Bonnet receives some uninvited guests.

Muster The Courage by twoseas

Stede does his best to make things right and that means taking his own advice and talking it through.

Featuring breakup era Blackbeard quickly turning back to domestic co-captain era Ed through the power of communication (and love), Stede being very good at a couple of things for once, and Izzy getting disrespected several times.

Clone Wars

This, too, was a gift by thosenearandfarwars

The Rako Hardeen mission was a success, but it left Obi-Wan Kenobi sick at heart after the empathic stresses of the mission, and questioning whether the mission was worth it. The troopers of the 212th welcome him back, wanting nothing more than to assure him he did the right thing, and Obi-Wan works to make their trust in him worth it.

The Force, however, shows Obi-Wan a detailed vision of the future to come. He eliminates the threats posed by the Sith, but feels he cannot return to the Order or to his men, and sets out alone, letting the Force direct him to the grimmest parts of the galaxy and the people who were always overlooked and underserved.

Marshal Commander Cody takes his general's warning and evacuates Kamino and all of the clones from Republic space. As the Jedi work to recover from the Sith plot and the Republic stalls out on how to move on, the clones settle a new world, try to heal, and look for their missing general. Along the way, apart and together, Cody and Obi-Wan make discoveries that will change their and the galaxy’s future, and learn how to move forward even when things are broken and like nothing they'd planned.

And I’ll Catch You When You Fall by Nation_Ustria

The Jedi were never meant to fight in war. They still aren’t meant to. But that’s what they’re doing, and that results in almost every single Jedi reaching for the Dark Side unintentionally at one point or another, results in every Jedi Falling, losing the parts of themselves that are kind and good.

Except for the vod’e noticed when they started to Fall, and decided that they weren’t going to let it happen—and it turns out, you can’t really Fall if you have people to Catch you. Force-null or not, the vod’e figure out how to pull their Jetiise back into the Light, and do so as many times as is needed.

General Kenobi is one of the last to start Falling for their first time.

Put Color in Your Cheeks by dharmaavocado

“Apologies for interrupting, sirs, but would this, ah, exchange have anything to do with that?” He gestured to their linked hands in a way that meant he’d rather not call attention either out of a sense of discretion or, more likely, because he was trying very hard not to laugh.

They’d stripped off their vambraces and gloves so they could be skin to skin, which had led to the most awkward walk through base camp that didn’t involve Wooley’s rotgut or Quinlan shirtless.

“Ah,” Kenobi said, the orange back in full force. “Yes. About that. Have you by chance had the—” the barest pause—“honor of meeting the headwoman?”

“Only briefly,” Rex said, and Cody couldn’t find a single fault in how professional he sounded. “She was very forthright in her observations of the men, particularly the officers.”

Cody couldn’t quite swallow an ugly laugh.

Kenobi closed his eyes. The garish orange was edging towards something a bit warmer. Humor, maybe? Trying to parse Kenobi’s emotional state was going to succeed where the war failed in scrambling his brains.

In which Cody must endure the mortifying ordeal of being known.

Battle of Wills by BigFatBumblebee

Mid-way through the Clone Wars their beloved General is a bit of a mess. But Cody, Kix and the rest of the 212th are going to look after him, even if it kills them. Can snarkiness actually kill? Cody hopes not or they don’t stand a chance.

[curvesomesunsets]

it’s time to think too much about the way alex reacts to ray vs how he reacts to caleb so here we go, alex and authority figures 2.0:

there’s a part of alex’s story that i can never really stop thinking about, and that’s his relationship to authority figures. i’ve made a post about alex looking up to caleb before so bear with me there might be repetitions. 

alex—compared to reggie who latches onto ray immediately, and luke who has the parent plotline—doesn’t have a parent-related development throughout the show. all we learn about his family is from what luke mentions (i know we learn shit all about reggie aside from luke’s comment either, but his genuine attachment to ray is incredibly beloved and gives him an indirect sort of connection there). and still, alex’s relationship with authority is a neat little thread my mind keeps getting wrapped up in. alex, with his most recent memory of it being his parents and their bad response to him being gay, doesn’t fuck with authority or parents, a trauma that is intrinsically connected to how he responds to the two major authority figures we have within the show.

like there IS a wonderful authority figure in ray. ray is a great parent and a genuinely nice person. but, and here i reach back to my ‘alex’s parents were great before he came out based on luke saying “they were never cool again”’ headcanon, alex has known people like ray, grew up with them, was raised by them. nice, genuine, accommodating parental figures that seem to want nothing but good things for you. he doesn’t trust it, refuses to fall for it again. he’s dismissive and distant, waving ray off and never engaging with him (as far as they can engage given ray doesn’t know they’re there), despite reggie’s immense attachment. alex keeps his distance.

and then there’s caleb. bright, queer, loudly encouraging caleb who overruns alex’s walls using not just willie but himself. he’s flamboyant and entertaining, sees alex and gives him male dancers, seemingly accommodating to every bit of alex. and it’s exactly what alex needs, to be shown no hesitation, no difference. just immediate understanding and encouragement. caleb is like him, alex thinks, caleb understands and supports and provides this queer space of celebration and freedom. alex is awed, fully drawn into the magic and the absolutely overwhelming experience of being at a place he can be himself in, with people who won’t blink an eye, who are like him, who will support him. alex might not have been looking for an authority figure, but sheer relief and caleb’s intentional digging completely obliterate his walls regarding this topic. alex kind of ends up looking at caleb with stars in his eyes, not to mention the fact that where caleb is, willie is.

then he learns what caleb is really doing, that caleb manipulated him, and alex is burned again. and there’s ray, still being an understanding father, going along with carlos’s ghost hunting shenanigans, giving reggie some form of connection without even knowing it. and alex still can’t get himself to accept it. sure, part of it is the fact that they won’t be sticking around, so why get attached now that there’s only days if not hours left? but he sticks stubbornly to his dismissal of ray despite reggie’s nudging and just barely acknowledges that he isn’t completely indifferent towards the molinas.

alex allowed himself to trust an adult, an almost fatherly figure, and got stuck with a looming axe above his and his friends’ necks. ray is sweet and wonderful and such a good father, but alex can’t trust again. he tried it, tried it in a place that felt safer than with a man who is already a father with a family, and still got let down. he could admit that ray is worth more than his dismissal, but that would be opening himself up to disappointment and betrayal again. so he doubles down, even if he ends up admitting that he will miss the molinas when they go. he can’t get himself to take that extra step of dismantling his walls again, even when there is no more time or even really any circumstances in which ray could betray him. and honestly, who can blame him?

[prolix-yuy]

Chapter 2: A Man May Fight And Not Be Slain

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: A surprise. A child. A bowl of stew. A recognition.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: T, drinking, mentions of food and eating, brief allusions to sexual acts and masturbation. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Cross-posted on AO3

Good Company Masterlist || I Think of You Series Masterlist

Din slams his back against the leather of the booth, cloaking him into shadow as you peer up at the child’s exuberant shout. His claws slap repeatedly at the edge of the pod as he repeats “Bah! Bah! BAH!” in varying levels of frustration. The pilots’ attention is drawn momentarily, but baby noises aren’t as important as a good meal. You, on the other hand, scoff and laugh at the tantrum, waving to the child in the way all adults seem to know when engaging a youngling.

“My deepest apologies, I’ll be right up!” you call up. Din thinks he’s missed being seen, but you’re skirting around the bar and heading to a break in the tables. The child is almost crawling out of the pod in excitement, so Din places him on the table to prevent a mid-meal topple.

His hands are uncertain on the tabletop, fingers moving fast but out of rhythm. His heart has galloped into full fight-or-flight mode as the child struggles to meet you at the table edge.

It’s definitely been over a decade since he sat down at a bar on Tatooine, stiff with frustration and wanting nothing more than to cross off a name and get back on his ship. It wasn’t the same bar - this was cleaner, brighter, more reputable - but every cantina sounds the same, and is built much the same.

He was debating on how to spend his time when the info would inevitably be useless - another bad tip, another handful of credits wasted - when he saw you across the bar. He heard you too, making up a wild story about backroom boxing while your companions made out lasciviously. You sparked in his vision, sometimes bright as plasma, other times dim, barely above a glow. The duality drew him to watch you. When you smiled at your own jokes, or your eyes fell on something that pleased you, you were captivating. Face open and kind, a smile that warmed him even when he wasn’t the recipient. But you were also uncomfortable, and lonely despite your company. They barely paid you attention, and when the loud sparkly one came over to him trying to strike up conversation, you sat quietly on the other side of the bar and the light in your eyes was barely there.

But then something unexpected happened - you met his gaze, smiled at him and held your own silent conversation with Din. He’d done nothing to warrant your attention, besides being a Mandalorian in a bar (which the loud girl had been gushing about in his ear), but you engaged him like he was any man across from you. No fear, no apprehension, no strange armor fetish (that was always awkward), just basic connection.

Din hadn’t been sure if it was a good idea to encourage the conversation, but he was frustrated and tense and you were a pleasant distraction. He had liked the way you looked - pretty without frills or enhancements, your expressions the most engaging part of you - and once he allowed himself to buy you a drink, he liked the company you offered. The longer he sat with you and got to observe the shape of your body and the cadence of your voice, the more he wanted to savor you in ways that would be frowned upon in a cantina. A very attractive distraction indeed, and one he indulged in until the small hours of the night. He’d left refreshed, proud if not a little bit cocky.

And now you’re approaching the table, your eyes on the child as he tries to scoot closer to the edge. Din sits stock still, his hands folded in his lap as you come to stand in front of them.

“Well aren’t you a noisy little bogwing baby! You want some of this?” you tease, lifting the half-empty pot to rest on an adjacent table. You fish the ladle out of your apron as well as a small wooden bowl similar to the ones Din saw the pilots take out. “You got some credits? I’d give it to you for the price of a giggle, but my boss would have my head.” You’re addressing the child with an exaggerated voice, spinning the ladle in a way that’s practiced. You’ve definitely entertained kids and adults alike with this act, and the child is lapping it up as much as he wants to be eating that stew.

You laugh as the child reaches up to the ladle and closes his eyes in concentration. Din knows where this is going and grabs the child’s hand as you turn your back to them to stir the stew.

“Yes, yes, we have credits. A bowl for him, nothing for me.” Din’s voice starts out frantic, preventing the child from showing off his weird little wizard tricks, and peters off to a much quieter tone. You turn back around to him and he watches your face change.

You start off with a smile, customer service mode in full swing. Then you take in the hulking shadow, the glint of metal, the sharp T visor that swims into the light as Din leans forward. Your eyebrows crease, confusion muting your smile as you take in the sight. A gleaming silver Mandalorian holding a small green baby who is grunting and reaching for the pot of stew well out of reach.

The silence stretches, interrupted by a few small distressed noises from the child. Din looks down at him and shushes him with a gentle pat, but the tantrum is close.

“Coming right up,” you stammer, turning from Din and scooping a heaping ladle of stew into the wooden bowl. You place it on the table in front of the child, who breaks free of Din’s grasp and buries his hands in the bowl, bringing mouthful after mouthful to his lips with smacking delight.

You wipe your hair back from your temple and look at Din again. He’s still as a statue, one hand drumming quickly on the tabletop with his visor turned up to you. You open your mouth to speak and a short laugh bubbles out. One he hadn’t heard in ages, and fills his chest with warmth.

“Sorry, you just…reminded me of someone. Another Mandalorian, but that was…” you pause and think, wincing, “too long ago. Different armor.” You indicate the shining beskar, very different from the beat-up red durasteel he wore last time. Din freezes, his fingers stilling on the table.

This feels like an out. You might see glimpses of the Mando you knew long ago, but you’re letting him be a stranger. Or you’re willfully ignoring the things that haven’t changed - the shape of his helmet, the color of his gloves, the way he holds himself. Or maybe you're afraid he sees nothing of the girl he knew in you. Your eyes dart to the child, noisily munching on the assorted meats and vegetables in the brown sauce, then back to Din. You grind your lower lip between your teeth and a flash of that night comes back to him.

You lying on your back beneath him, naked, soft, and nervous. His hands on you, trying to soothe the anxiety out of your flesh. Your lip between your teeth when he holds you in his lap, willing you to relax into his arms. The moment when Din realized he needed to slow down and savor this evening, for both of your sakes.

Other moments of that night come back to Din in flashes and breaths. They weren’t forgotten, but blurred with time. On more than one occasion he’d closed his eyes and remembered the pleasure of your body, but pushed away the details. The curve of your smile, the way your laugh sounded, the gentle conversation held in the depth of the night. He could let the shape of your body swim past closed eyelids when adrenaline and loneliness pushed his hand into his pants, but nothing more.

But now, as you stand in front of him shifting from one foot to another, all of those details push back to the forefront. They clash against the current image of you, but in a way that feels natural and warranted. You have some of that shy kindness he remembered, but you look fuller, like a bloomed flower turning towards the sun. Your arms are stronger, hands moving quick and purposeful as you wipe the ladle and replace it in your apron. Your clothing is still as sensible, but accentuates you in a way that enhances your natural beauty and poise.

And you were beautiful. Even more so than your first meeting. Not in the superficial ways he saw people measure attraction - all glimmering paints and fabrics and pomp - but in a way that Din could appreciate more than others. You were older and wiser, purposeful in body, in presence, in posture, and sharper with the way your eyes appraised him. You had this potential in you when you first met, but it was tempered, smoothed below layers of acquiescence and deference. Now, standing in front of Din even with uncertainty in your eyes, you were the best version of the woman he glimpsed in the darkness of an inn so long ago.

You breach the silence. “A credit for the bowl.” Din watches you push the question down, putting the customer service smile back on. It’s up to him to bridge the connection or let you believe he’s not your Mando. He debates that - a lot has changed since the last time you saw him, now with a foundling and a mission and a lot more blood on his hands. He’s colder, quieter, and just starting to let people into his life after a long time alone.

But… he is your Mando. Whatever that may mean. He can’t lie to you about that.

He places a credit on the table, and leaves his fingers just beside it. You lean over to pick it up and Din reaches for you. You falter, your mouth parting as he brushes his fingers against yours.

“Different armor,” he hums in agreement, and your eyes shoot up to the black expanse of his visor. He looks into them, and sees how the years have made you colder too, but brighter, and ever so hopeful. Then he says your name, and follows it with a word he rarely lets slip from his lips. “Mesh’la.”

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