#but it was no bite to it n he says it w a lil smile on his face <333333 he’s so in love w you <3333

[tetsoorou]

˗ˋˏ @oikawas-milk-bread & ˎˊ˗

𝙞𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙯𝙪𝙢𝙞 𝙝𝙖𝙟𝙞𝙢𝙚

♡ lily’s 100 follower event ♡

[silkjade]

alhaitham x mermaid! reader (3.5)

⤀ cw: afab!reader, first time (w. him), lots of teasing, cunnilingus, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, lil bit of size kink + overstim, creampie, fluff???, true love but they don't know it yet — mdni || ꒰ 6.2k wc ꒱ a/n: recommended to read the previous part first, but it can stand alone as well ! hope u enjoy my smut debut + reblogs & feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡ next ﾉ series masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼

When you had taken him up on his half conscious, pseudo challenge to visit Sumeru City, Alhaitham never imagined you’d cause him so much trouble. It’s not in the sense that you’d drawn too much unwanted attention, or that you’d spent his mora on frivolous things. No, it was your lack of understanding for the human notions of shame and intimacy. 

He’s never entirely sure of just how nuanced the unabashed things you say and do are. You’re shameless whenever you’d ask him for compliments point-blank, or when you’d waltz out of the bathroom only half-dressed in his clothes. Other times, you’d surprise him with words so naively honest, brush against him in ways that feel far too tender.

To his dismay, it’s becoming increasingly clear that your actions always come with a price—one that he pays, not with mora, but with his dignity. Much like the smooth caress of the waters you came from, it’s all seemingly harmless, but the depths of your intentions remain aggravatingly unknown. Especially when your very presence is enough to enfold all his senses in a lull of desire.

He runs a hand through his hair before turning the knob of his bedroom door, only to find you in your human form, lounging on his bed, lazily flipping through one of his books. The robe you wear is one of his; too large on your frame, with the silky material falling off your shoulders, dangerously close to revealing too much. 

Not that it isn’t a welcome sight—he is a man after all. And while he prides himself on his exceptional self control, it becomes an issue when he feels himself grow hot and the loose clothes he likes to wear at home begins to feel too tight. He can’t rub one out while you’re here, so perhaps a cold shower might ease his condition…

But you’re more perceptive than he’s given you credit for.

“It’s not as magnificent as my tail, but this body is still quite impressive isn’t it?” 

“I’ve never met anyone as shameless as you.”

…

“Well, I don’t think you’ve ever met anyone like me at all.” You flash him an amused smile, but the sultry look in your eyes relay a different message entirely. He can’t lie, it excites him.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he mumbles under his breath. To his chagrin, your curious hum cuts through the room and he hears the heavy thud of a book slammed shut.

Of course you heard him. With renewed interest, you swing your legs over the edge of his bed, sauntering over until you’re close enough that he can smell the faint scent of his mint shampoo in your hair. 

“Oh? What could I possibly be doing to you?” Your fingers walk up his body, slowly, from his toned stomach to his chiseled chest, leaving his skin hot through the fabric of his clothes, “Won’t you enlighten me?” 

You look up, that wide-eyed gaze of feigned innocence flickering into something sharp and dangerously seductive. A hand settles on his shoulder, pulling him in until you’re close enough that your lips are only a hair’s breadth away from his sensitive ears. The other reaches down and ghosts against his obviously growing bulge, before pressing down, palming him through his pants. Alhaitham bites back a groan. 

“Or rather, what would you like to do to me?” Your voice rings low and smooth as silk to his ears. It leaves a wave of desire to bubble in the pit of his stomach, one that doubles down on the dull ache at his crotch.

His mind sifts through a thousand thoughts. Lascivious thoughts, sinful, perverted thoughts that only seem to make their presence known when in your company. Just one glance down at you and he can see how ridiculously easy it would be to untie the lazy knot that’s hardly holding your—no—his robe together. 

“I…” 

It’s hard to think when you overwhelm all his senses, poking at the urges he has so carefully suppressed up until now. His robe, his scent. He’s no fool to the way Sumeru City ogles at you—the mysterious stranger who’s able to so casually hang onto the aloof scribe’s arm. It only makes him want to stake his claim across the empty canvas of your skin as well: his mermaid. Perhaps just this once, he’ll let himself indulge in his own selfish desires. 

“Come on, Scribe Alhaitham,” you emphasize,“use your words.” 

A smug smile forms on your face as you calculate the risks of your next words. 

“Although…if you’ve got nothing to say, why don’t you just show me,” you press close, voice deceptively soft. “I’m more of a hands-on learner anyway.”

For once, Alhaitham lets his body override all sense of rationality, flipping your positions, and pinning you against the wall as he captures your mouth in his. It’s uncharacteristically sloppy and haphazard, with none of the craftiness he displayed on that first and only night you kissed, but it’s intoxicating all the same.

His teeth graze against your bottom lip, demanding entrance, and you’re forced to grasp onto his toned bicep to keep yourself steady as you devour each other with the intensity of all your repressed thoughts. With every second his mouth remains slotted on yours, with every inhale and exhale of breath you exchange, you think that this time, you’re the one who might drown.

He finally tosses you a lifeline once he decides to leave the vicinity of your mouth, and begin his campaign across the rest of your body, starting with the little spot right along the underside of your jaw. Alhaitham takes his time trailing down your neck, catching you off guard when he stops to suck down, hard, on a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

An involuntary gasp escapes, and you can feel him smirk against you, though it quickly fades into a half strangled groan when your hips roll into his. He only continues downward from here, carving kisses into your body and leaving behind colorful little bruises that send liquid fire running through your veins. The further he goes, the more he must uncover, and the only thing standing in his way is the robe you’re hardly wearing.

“Can I…?” he asks in a hoarse whisper, fingers already toying with the sash. 

“Not like you haven’t seen everything already,” you mutter, pulling his face in to kiss him again. 

His free hand snakes down to squeeze your ass while the other tugs on the loose knot, the silky material now free to tumble down your body like a waterfall, hitting every curve along the way. In one fell swoop, Alhaitham takes you to his bed, picking up right where he left off: with a depraved kiss that speaks more than he ever could in relaying the underlying lust that clouds his mind.

“Beautiful.” The word slips out without a second thought. It’s the first time he's ever said it outright. Beneath the fervor, there’s a special sentiment that cushions his tone. It has you buzzing with warmth from the inside out, but whether it’s contentment or embarrassment, you don’t know. Biting your lip, you turn your head to the side, refusing to meet his gaze. 

He finds it infinitely amusing that for all your openly brazen flirtations…

“You’re not getting shy on me now, are you?” 

You respond by stubbornly grappling at the edge of his shirt, nails grazing against his muscled abdomen in the process. The startling sensation crackles through his nerves, sending his cockhead twitching in delight. 

“It’s only fair I get to see you too,” you mumble, in what little time you have between kisses. Alhaitham pulls away, a brow quirked in mild amusement. Pausing, he takes this chance to drink in the sight of your naked figure for the second time, though tonight there’s no need to look away. 

It’s exhilaratingly surreal to see your body marked by the undeniable testaments of his touch. It manifests on your skin, where you’re decorated with clusters of little bruises signed by his lips. In your chest, as it heaves for air after all the breaths he’s stolen from right out of your lungs. It persists in the way your eyes draw him in, inviting him, daring him to do more. In how your lips, though slightly swollen, wear the same coquettish grin that’s enchanted him time and again. With no other choice but to surrender to your demands, Alhaitham lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side without a care.

You’ve always thought the man to be handsome, but you’re left wonderstruck as your eyes wander across his bare skin. It’s not like his usual attire leaves much to the imagination, but Alhaitham undressed, is still a sight to see. His toned chest and sculpted stomach, well defined arms… Chiseled by the gods themselves, you think as the corner of your lips quirk just the slightest bit upwards. 

“Enjoying the view?” It’s funny how much his smug smile contrasts with the mottled pink that colors his shoulders and dusts across his cheeks. His skin only flushes more when you trace a finger over the gem on his chest, tantalizingly slow as you make your way down his sternum, and only stopping to lightly flick at one of his nipples. Alhaitham’s breath hitches and you can practically see his muscles as they tense.  

 “Very much,” you answer, hands sinking lower. “So won’t you show me more?”

He catches you by your wrist when he feels you tugging at his waistband, and it takes everything for him to ignore the wanton desperation that’s quickly clouding his mind. It’s difficult, but out of sheer will, he manages to hold back, if only by a thread. 

Gently, he pulls your chin up to face him. Want hides beneath his teal gaze, but there’s a softness that truly shines through, encapsulating the delicate balance between risk and reward.

His hands shift to caress your cheek, before he moves in to steal another kiss. This time it’s sweeter, more chaste. Alhaitham kisses you slow and passionate, interwoven with a tenderness that causes your heart to swell in your chest.

“You sure you want to do this?”

Your resounding ‘yes’ breathes a renewed ardor into his actions as he lowers you onto your back. Little by little, he makes his way down your body, leaving wet kisses everywhere except where you want him most. A kiss here, a lick there—the heat that pools in your belly only grows by the second, but a harsh suck right below your hip causes your breath to hitch and your cunt to drool more in response while you whine and attempt to rub your legs together for any sort of friction.

They are, however, aptly spread back apart when he hooks his arms beneath your thighs and pulls you closer to where he kneels at the edge of the bed. 

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, “and we’ve only just begun.” Alhaitham lets out a low chuckle as he presses another kiss to your inner thigh. It’s enough to have you shivering in anticipation, the reverberating tremors of his deep voice going straight to your pulsing hole, wet with the slick of your arousal. One of his hands moves to hold you down as you jolt when his teeth graze against the delicate skin.

“Will you please just hurry up,” you’re barely able to get all your words out before your voice breaks into a breathless gasp as he takes you by surprise, dipping his head down to lick a long stripe up your glistening folds and flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue once he reaches the top. 

Talented in more ways than just words, you find out firsthand exactly how good he is with his tongue. Like a man starved, he laps up all you have to give, while your gushing hole happily churns out more slick. But it isn’t nearly enough. Especially not with the way you’re grinding into his face and singing praises to his name.  

Alhaitham doesn’t consider himself an arrogant man, but he’s never loved hearing the sound of his own name more. It falls through your lips in a trail of whimpers, your pretty little cries music to his ears, delicate and lyrical. His tongue prods at your entrance, occasionally dipping into your warmth, and as he closes in, his nose bumps against your puffy clit. It has you keening, and your hands come flying to tangle in his ashen hair as your voice splits into a sharp gasp. 

He takes a mental note of your reaction before moving to suckle on the sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing out another beautifully broken sob. With every exhale, and every swipe of his tongue, Alhaitham breathes life into your cunt—leaving it to drip with arousal and clench around nothing. Your fingers curl in his tresses and you tug hard. The low groan he emits reverberates through your body; the rumbling vibrations of his own pleasure sends you crawling to your high. 

But he soon pulls away and you’re quick to let out a pitched cry in protest. He peers up from between your parted thighs, sharp eyes hungrily taking in the sight of you squirming at the loss of contact. 

“Haitham,” you whine pitifully, hips blindly stuttering in search of his touch, “don’t stop.” 

Oh how the tables have turned. Before him, your tiny hole clamps around nothing and a sly grin creeps onto his face, devilishly handsome and glistening with your essence that so freely drips down his chin. You’ve teased him relentlessly during the span of your partnership, and as per your logic, it’s only fair he gets to do the same.

“Beg for it,” he purrs. His warm breath fans across your folds, sending you into a frenzied fluster from the bottom up, and you feel as if you’re going to melt.

“P-please…” It’s difficult to come up with any words, much less the right words, to say when the overwhelmingly wanton desire for him to just touch you again, has your brain enveloped in a thick haze. “Need you…Haitham please…”

His name, entangled within the sweet pleas that fall from your lips, has his cock twitching again, eager to be freed from the constraints of his pants. But if he can ignore the wet spot forming from his own precum, then he can do the same to the way his hips seem to move on their own, slowly rutting against the bed. He’s a patient man, he can wait. You on the other hand… 

You’re so needy for him, so lost trying to chase your own pleasure, that it doesn’t even register when he wets two fingers in his mouth, unable to process anything until you feel the faint stretch in your cunt that has you trembling in anticipation. His fingers slide easily into your creamy insides, and he only watches in amusement at the way your hips buck, silently begging him for something more than the painfully slow, lazy way he’s pumping in and out of you. 

“You’re already so tight...” He lets out a breathy chuckle as he scissors you open, resisting the way your velvety walls come down, hugging every inch of the digits inside you. “How are you even going to take me, hm?” 

You open your mouth to respond but nothing ever comes out, save for the faint breath of a moan that manages to escape. If you were in the right state of mind, you would’ve been sure to fire back something smart, however, your thoughts have been reduced to fixate on Alhaitham, who’s rather keen on keeping it that way.

He moves his wrist, twisting and turning, relentlessly searching until the pads of his fingers press against a spot just right, that it has your toes curling and back arching off the bed in a loud cry. He curls his fingers, bullying the spongy spot until echoes of your melodic mewls are undeniably present amongst the lewd squelching of your wetness. It sends him reeling and growing impossibly harder—oh how he so adores the way you unravel before him. 

Your body runs hotter than ever and you feel the coil in your belly tighten, ready to snap. You’re going to cum. You’re so close. Just a little more. It repeats like a mantra in your head, but your impending climax dissipates as he draws both fingers back out, leaving you dangling at the precipice with a distressed wail, frustration pathetically painted across your face.

Why did he just do that? Your eyes are large and laced with tears that quiver and threaten to spill down your face. Ignoring your futile attempt at garnering pity, Alhaitham only continues to taunt you.

“Will you look at that?” he says, toying with the messy slick that glosses over his middle and index fingers like webbing, stretching and breaking along to the movements of his hand. It’s such damning evidence of how much you need him, but it’s also somehow mesmerizing, so much so that you’re unable to look away. It doesn’t help that your sopping cunt only weeps more at the sight, absentmindedly fluttering around nothing.

He drags you out of your thoughts as he unexpectedly takes your clit back into his mouth. His hot tongue swirls around your bud, effectively setting your veins on fire, then takes the chance to throw your earlier words back at you. 

“Tell me what you’d like me to do,” he says, mouth never leaving the little nub.

You want him to make you cum, is what you want to say—or rather, you want him to let you cum, considering how he so cruelly ruined your earlier orgasm. But it all only translates into a litany of unintelligible whimpers, and Alhaitham smiles, the mischief twinkling in his eyes now glaringly apparent. He can’t help how endearing it is, that you, who always has so much to say, is now struggling to answer even the simplest of questions.

“Use your words. I want to hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“I want… I need…” you’re only able to make out a few words in between your ragged breaths before you’re interrupted by your own broken sob as he sucks down hard on your abused clit.

“Hm? What was that?” 

“Want to cum… ” you choke out, eyes sliding shut as you try again with your best efforts.

The latter half of your sentence warps until it rises an octave and melts into a shaky moan. Alhaitham barely gives you just enough time to finish before three lithe fingers find their way into your cunt without warning, slipping past your wet folds with ease. The dull pain of an added finger stuffed into your tiny hole, has you keening, your own knuckles turning white from your steel grip on the bed sheets. 

With a sweep of his tongue, he laves over your swollen clit again, sending shivers through to your core as you feel the tension return in your abdomen, this time wound even tighter from the way he continues to fuck your already sensitive cunt.

“ ‘m so close… please,” your breath catches in your throat as you whimper and squirm. “Please Haitham, please-” 

It’s beyond his own belief how he managed to wrangle you into his bed; the beautiful mermaid who had first tried to drown him, who was always so outspoken and bold— now reduced to a begging, whimpering mess on his sheets. For that, he mentally pats himself on the back and decides to take pity on you. 

“Come on, mermaid. Let me hear you sing.” 

Immediately, you feel his fingers curl, right up against the very spot that has you seeing stars, exactly as he had intended. He drags his teeth carefully, lightly grazing your swollen clit, effectively ripping out a loud, visceral scream as you finally tip over the edge in an earth shattering orgasm. 

Waves of pleasure continue to wash over you as Alhaitham finger fucks you through your high,  vigilantly hitting that sweet, spongy spot over and over again without mercy. You’re left quivering, fingers desperately grasping at the bed sheets, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. His hand, the one that isn’t three knuckles deep inside you, moves to hold your hips down as they twitch in the settling overstimulation. 

A satisfied hum rumbles in the back of his throat as he finishes off with an easy kiss to your inner thigh. He finally slows down his movements as you ride out your high, though the shallow, wet noises as he rocks his fingers in and out of you, seem all the more erotic against the backdrop of your dissipating cries. 

“Can’t get enough of you,” he coos. “Such a pretty thing—so gorgeous when you cum for me.” Alhaitham continues to whisper sweet flatteries that have you preening until he feels you clench weakly around his fingers once more. He raises a brow, the beginnings of a small smirk forming on his face.

“Of course you like to be praised.” Despite the lilt in his voice, he draws his soiled digits out with care, though you still shudder as he passes through your sensitive folds.

“Shut up.” 

Even as you sit up to catch your breath, your eyes wander over to the man’s bare upper body, before they drift down to the impressive tent bulging from his pants. Suddenly, you’re made painfully aware of how utterly empty you are. Arousal pulses through you, once again dripping out of your cunt at the thought of being stuffed full.  

Your obvious staring doesn’t go unnoticed; and neither does the way you shift as you’re rubbing your thighs together for more friction. Your shamelessly perverse act only reinforces the thrum in his already rock hard cock.

“Open up.” You do as you’re told, intuitively wrapping your lips around his long fingers, cheeks hollowing as you clean off the mess you had left. It spurs him on, the way you hold his gaze with those large doe eyes, blinking so lasciviously when he draws them back out, leaving behind a trail of saliva that snaps like gossamer on your lips.

“What, haven’t had enough of me yet?” He teases you, yet the slight waver in his voice as he struggles to mask just how much he’d like to cum right then and there, says otherwise. 

“Not nearly enough.” 

Your playful wit is nothing new to him. And while Alhaitham considers himself to be quite well versed in how you love to play coy, an expert in navigating around your flirtations—he’s far from immune to your coquettish displays. He’s only human after all… 

So it’s no fault of his own that you drive him absolutely insane.

Pupils blown wide and dilated with lust, he dips down until you can feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear, “I hope you don’t regret that.” His smooth baritone sends a shiver down your spine until it pools between your already sticky thighs, a vague promise of what’s to come.

Before you know it, he catches you in another eager kiss, rough and hopelessly greedy, as you fall back onto the mattress without a care. It only heightens your sense of urgency that he can’t help but grind into you.

His normal attire barely hides his bulge, but even underneath these loose clothes, the outline of his cock stands tall and unmistakably erect against the fabric—which you desperately need removed now, as you fumble with the waistband. Alhaitham chuckles lightly into the kiss before pulling away. Message received. 

He moves quickly, pants and underwear hastily thrown to the side and forgotten, because how could you possibly think of anything else when he stands before you, hands fisted around his magnificent cock, grunting at the little ounce of relief as he gives himself a few quick pumps. Precum dribbles from the flushed pink tip and your eyes follow as he spreads it along the impressive length. You can’t help but think that it’s… pretty. And oh how you adore pretty things.

He lines himself up at your entrance, cockhead just barely dipping inside as he hovers over you, and for the first time tonight, you realize just how incredibly vulnerable you are now, laid bare before him, ripe for the taking. But it’s okay if it’s him. Whether it’s the fuzziness mulling in your head, or your cunt that’s thinking for you, anything is fine as long as it’s Alhaitham.   

Above you, he swallows harshly and you can see the slow bob of his throat as he does so. “Tell me if you need to stop,” he murmurs. The rasp in his voice makes it apparent that it’s taking every ounce of fortitude not to just slam his entire length into you. 

The first hiccupped gasp that escapes your lips has him smiling smugly as he pushes in, splitting you open with ease from how wet you are. But the stretch as you struggle to accommodate his girth burns despite your previous preparation; he’s just so much bigger than his fingers. Inch by agonizing inch, he stretches you wider, whispering sweet nothings while he stuffs you full of his cock. 

“You’re doing so well,” he praises, though it’s quickly drowned out by the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Every time you think he’s done, he only continues to push further inside. Your head spins at how full you already feel, unconsciously tightening around him and drawing out a choked curse that rolls tactlessly off his tongue. There’s no helping the way his self control fades when you’re squeezing him like that, your needy cunt intent on sucking him all the way in. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. It’s foreign and depraved and so vulgar compared to his usually eloquent speech—not that it isn't also incredibly attractive hearing him lose his composure like that—but it’s even more so especially because you’re the one making him feel this good. Your heart flutters at the thought and the vibrations of another muffled grunt ripple against your skin when you reflexively bear down again.

Alhaitham bottoms out in one final push, sending you reeling at how the thickest end of his shaft forces your little hole to stretch even wider to accommodate the width. A hitched cry leaves your throat and your arms fly to wrap around his neck, pulling him close as he presses soothing kisses along your jaw, though it does little to quell the heat rapidly igniting throughout your body.

“Are you alright?” There isn’t an ounce of teasing in his tone when he pauses to glance down, giving you a moment to adjust while ensuring you’re okay. 

Your hum of approval is all he needs to start moving in languid strokes that fill you to the brim, his shallow thrusts so lewdly squelching to the tune of your wetness. Each slow drag of his cock forces you to feel very ridge and vein as he grinds back and forth, pulling soft mewls out of you until they melt into breathless whines pleading for something more.

“Faster… f-faster please.” 

Who was he to deny you, when you’ve been taking him so well? Sliding ever so slowly, Alhaitham all but pulls out, leaving only the very tip of his cock to kiss your entrance. You don’t even have time to process the jarring emptiness before he slams his entire length back in with a single thrust, powerful enough to send your entire body jostling from the impact. Your back arches in pleasure, your head thrown back in a silent scream as your mouth falls agape, the sound dying before it’s ever able to leave your throat. 

Alhaitham is relentless when he starts fucking you in earnest. The gentleness from earlier is gone, replaced by the callous way he repeatedly pounds into you, burying himself to the hilt every single time. He’s hitting depths you never thought possible, with each thrust sending shockwaves that ripple through you until it scrambles your mind, shattering that last piece of lucidity stubbornly holding you together.

“That’s it. Take it, just like that,” he coos, but you're too fogged over to comprehend his words. It’s clear your mind is currently occupied by other matters; matters such as the chant of his name atop your long string of strangled cries.

He revels at how pliant you are underneath him—so stimulated and keening out in pleasure at everything he does, greedy cunt eagerly swallowing every inch he offers, pulling him in with every snap of his hips. 

His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on the nub while he twirls the other between his fingers, groaning when your nails dig into his shoulders, imprinting crescents onto his skin. The added stimulation elicits another set of frantic whimpers, and the familiar tightness in your abdomen returns.

“Haitham I’m… I’m so…” Close, he deducts. He can tell by the way your walls close around him.

Half of him wants to watch you struggle with your words in between all your panting and moaning, wants to withhold your sweet release until you can speak properly while he continues to piston in and out of you. The other half, driven by his wanton throbbing, slides a hand over the curve of your ass, lifting your leg to angle himself just right before plunging deep inside you, hitting that same spot from before that had you seeing stars. 

Loud, broken sobs tear through the room as his tip mercilessly drills into the spongy spot with pinpoint precision. Your nails rake down his back, and a sharp hiss manages to escape from his lips. It only fuels him more, makes his movements more erratic. Over and over, hit after hit, Alhaitham delivers an exhilarating pleasure that drives you to the edge of delirium. Warmth blooms in the pit of your stomach threatening to spill over and seep into every crevice of your being. 

It’s too much. It’s so good. It’s not enough. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. 

“I can feel you falling apart around me.” The corners of his mouth lift in a smug grin, ignoring the fact that his voice comes out in ragged huffs, uneven from his labored breathing.

There’s no use denying how much you affect him as well— not when fire licks his body, coloring his pale skin flush. Nor when his expression is clearly strained, trying so desperately to hold on to his crumbling composure. You’d notice if you still had the capacity to process anything at all, but alas…

He lowers his head into the crook of your neck, nipping lightly at the tender skin before switching to your native tongue. “C’mon my beautiful mermaid… give it to me. Cum for me.”

The white hot bliss that sweeps across your body is maddening and it leaves you absolutely shattered. The vibrato in your voice cracks as you scream and sob, body going impossibly taut. You’re desperately gasping for air, drowning in the waves of euphoria that wash over you, but it pulls you in and drags you further down into delirium. You can’t think, you can’t speak. You can’t stop the trembling in your thighs and you can’t stop your cunt from spasming as he continues to fuck into you.

His pace slows but his strokes are longer and deeper, as if he’s trying to ingrain himself permanently within your walls. Your moans rise in pitch, turning to whimpers when his thrusts continue past your orgasm and into the settling overstimulation, his cock still taking from you where there’s no more to take.

You’ve never felt more like a paradox than you do now. Your head is the clouds, while your body feels heavier than ever. You’re painfully sensitive, squirming to get away as he chases his own release, yet your cunt still pulses and begs to milk his fat cock dry.

Weak arms reach up to cup his face, pulling him in for a lasting kiss, breathing him in like the air you so desperately need in your lungs. When you pull away, your eyes are so dazed and lidded, not yet recovered from the intensity of your orgasm, but already prickling with tears from the burn of overstimulation. 

“Make me yours.”

Alhaitham buries his head in the crook of your neck; there’s no hope of keeping up his composure now. In fact, it’s a wonder he didn’t come from those words alone. You already are, he tells himself. There’s nobody else he could ever want; nobody else could ever compare to how perfect you are for him. 

With a few final thrusts, he presses his weight into you and sinks his cock as deep as he can. He lets out a tattered moan and his hips stutter as he follows you over the edge, the warmth of his hot cum spilling into your insides. 

A fleeting thought crosses your mind: Maybe you want to stay like this forever. So warm and tingly and speared open in all consuming pleasure. 

His body slumps against yours, relaxed and utterly at peace. In the numbing midst of his high, Alhaitham’s mind is for once, a couple beats slower than his palpitating heart.

“I love you.” 

He wasn’t thinking when it had slipped out of his mouth. The words came so naturally, rolled off his tongue so easily. It’s too late by the time he realizes just what he’s said; he hopes to god you didn’t hear him, but it’s the only thing you catch amongst all the white noise. He loves you. Alhaitham loves you. 

It replays on a loop inside your head but your jumbled mess of a brain can only process so much right now. “Love… you…” you barely manage to scrape out. He quiets your empty babbles with another kiss, muffling your whines as he gently—though reluctantly—pulls out of your embrace. You shudder and whine at the loss.

“Easy now,” he soothes, distracting you with praises and soft pecks to your temples. To you, the emptiness in your cunt feels all too foreign, but he can’t help but stare at the lecherous sight of your combined fluids dripping out of your hole. He can already picture it in his head; the wet noise of your slick and his cum, all shoved back into you so that not a single drop is wasted…

Alhaitham shakes the thought from his head, forcibly tearing his eyes away before his own mind can betray him. He excuses himself before soon returning with a glass of water and a warm, wet towel in hand.

Slowly but surely, your lungs steady, and the fog dissipates, and you’re finally able to anchor yourself back to reality. A reality where your throat is dry, hoarse from all the retrospectively embarrassing sounds he had dragged out of you, and your limbs feel so heavy, as if your bones have all but dissolved into jelly.

“Gonna clean you up, okay?” 

With your permission, he helps sit you up, passing you the glass of water before he begins wiping off the excess fluid between your legs. The towel is rough against the still sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you jolt. Immediately, he utters an awkward apology, looking up to gauge your reaction. 

Water, split from the sudden movement, drips down your chin. Loose pieces of hair stick to your forehead; the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin makes sure of that. To look so disheveled yet so gorgeous at the same time… you’re absolutely enchanting in the afterglow. A flicker of pride rushes through him—he did that. The proof was in the bites and bruises littered across your skin. He smiles, sheer adoration present in his eyes. 

Your soft giggle breaks his train of thought. “What are you—” A yawn. “What are you looking at?” The chirp in your tone peaks just the tiniest bit out of your sleep-laden voice, but you’re too worn out to wait for an answer, opting to fall back onto the mattress instead. It’s not long before you fully yield to the exhaustion.

You look so peaceful in your sleep, so human, that he almost forgets you’re not. Still, he wonders how it would feel to hold you in his arms as he sleeps. To wake up beside you and watch as the sunlight illuminates your features.

Would it be selfish of him to indulge just a little more?

Tossing the towel aside, he joins you under the safety of his covers. He wraps an arm around your frame, pulling you close, holding you right next to where his heart beats in his chest. Alhaitham presses a soft, last kiss to the top of your head before he too, drifts off to sleep. 

When morning comes and the golden sun arises, everything will return as it was. Dreams and other such wishful delights are of the moon’s sovereignty, so tonight, let him hold on to this reverie for just a little while longer.

next

a/n2: This was my very first smut piece so I hope you enjoyed :’) Since this is an extra chapter, I tried not to include any details that would drive the plot too much, but ending it with just a tiny bit of angst to transition to the next part. thank u for reading ! ♡

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[gloxk]

Think she grippin’ on my dick but that’s my gun baby~

(Eren Y.)

A/n: Lil sum sum— srry fa neglecting yall. My schedule is so fuckkkkkeedd. But, I got sum more ‘plug’ eren comin up for my luvz. Anyway I hope yall enjoy this my luvz🫶🏽!

Synopsis: First link w Eren Yeager after not seeing him in a long time. ♥︎

Warning (s): Gun kink , dirty talk, Eren talking you through it, Mentions of drugs, riding an inanimate object, f/m, Uhm like reader calls him sir? Pet names, Needy s*x, Smut, ovi. girl yk the deal 17+ around here!

━━━━━━━♥︎━━━━━━━

You kicked your feet while biting your bottom lip, “Yeah, I know you miss me, baby.” You cheesed at his comments. Eren knew exactly what to say, his words were so sweet and slick. “Of course I miss you ren. When you gon come see me?” You heard his music blaring through his speakers. This boy really had you thinking about him every second of the day and night. “Whatchu mean? I’m outside right now ma.” You nearly took flight running down to the front door. It felt like time was nothing more than a mere interference with your speed. You swung your door open , your smile instantly dropped looking at your empty driveway “Fucking asshole, you lied.” He cackled as if you said something funny. “Nah I’m here.” He flicked his head lights grabbing your attention, you forgot his car was completely black. You didn’t understand why he would make his Hellcat so dark. Didn’t he want people to see it?

You smiled seeing him get out of his car, he looked so fucking fine in his Nike tech. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. Knees nearly buckled as Eren approached the door. You gulped back your salvia, it felt like swallowing a golf ball. “Heyyy baby.” His lips met your cheek, it’s been so long since you saw Eren. His voice held a sweet tang and a long draw to it. His fragrance was a mix of Dior Sauvage and Backwoods. His eyes spoke for themselves; red and low. “Eren—are you high?” you pulled his face closer to yours. Examining his eyes—yeah, he was fucking hammered. “When am I not?” He flashed his pearly whites, you always wonder how he got his teeth so nice and white. If perfection was a human it had to be him, there was no visible flaw within that man. “You gonna smoke your brain away if you keep it up.” You closed the door and walked with him up to your bedroom. Eren looked at you with a soft expression, his eyes locked on to yours. “Aww, you care about me, baby? Fine, I guess I have no choice but to do as you wish.”He jokingly replied. Eren didn’t have many people who cared for him, so it was nice to know you were one of the very few.

Eren found himself in your bed once again, he nuzzled into your neck while a basic Netflix movie played. He wasn’t particularly interested in the movie, and you were aware of this. But he acted like he was excited to watch it. Your hands ran over his thigh grazing over his dick. Fingertips wrapping around it. “Damn Ren, you must be very happy to see me huh?” you giggle sinking into your bed lining. Eren's dark jade eyes met yours, the lower part of his face was covered by his hand. Unbeknownst to you, he had a new hand tattoo; a skeleton face—damn he looked fine. “That ain’t my dick, that’s my gun baby.” He laid on his back, his shirt slightly lifting revealing the weapon. You couldn’t resist wrapping your fingers around the handle of his gun; it was calling your name. You held it in your hand admiring the weapon, it alone held the power to remove a soul from this world.

“You like it?” he took the gun away from your grasp. He parted your thighs placing the cold metal against your cunt. “Yes sir.” You bit your lip at the sheer cold touching you. The hairs on your neck stood up, it was so dangerous, it turned you on. He slid your panties over letting the blistering cold metal meet your pussy. The gun started at a gentle pace, moving slowly against your clit. Erens lips occupied your neck; kissing and sucking it. His tongue lightly brushed over your collarbone, you felt his tongue piercing glide against your skin. You rutted hard against his gun trying to relieve the built-up pressure in your abdomen. You didn’t want his gun, you wanted him. You wanted him to fuck you silly until you could no longer comprehend your surroundings. “Fuucck, I need more ren, I need you.” The gun hastily left your thighs. “I need you too ma.” His mouth met his glock licking your slick off of it. Eren's lips pressed firmly together creating a ‘mmm’ sound. He got on top of you pressing his chest against yours. You felt his bulge through his sweatpants, his dick was begging to be left free. He pulled his sweat pants down, just below his crotch panel. Your fingertips slipped under his elastic waistband; tugging his boxers downwards. His dick pounced out, an angry red color washed over his tip. “Fuck, it’s been too long.” He stroked his dick letting the bead of pre cum coat his tip. Eren slid inside inch by inch, he grunted feeling your heat. “Damn baby, I ain’t fuck you good in a minute huh? You miss this dick?” You nodded quickly, yes—you missed everything about him. His hand wrapped around your mouth looking at his tattoo covering your face. It turned him on seeing it on you— whether his hand was around your throat, mouth, or ass. It always looked so perfect on you.

Eren tugged your shirt up watching your tits bounce as he pounded into you. You tried to push him away from overstimulating your cunt “Nah, This what you wanted right? Take this dick.” He grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulder, he fucked you faster making you scream out. You could have sworn you put holes in the sheets because you were gripping them so tightly. You threw your head back clenching around Erens cock. Your body jolted at your release, finally letting go of that pressure you once had. “Ahh- fuck-“ you moaned while subtly grinding against his abdomen. His pace faltered, but not ending, Eren didn’t stop fucking you until he came all over your stomach. By then you were already on your third orgasm. He positioned himself beside you kissing your neck while tracing circles on your arm. “I know you love that shit.” He sighed, he was a fool for you as you were for him. He loved looking at your fucked out expression knowing he was the reason you looked like that.

“Mhm, I do, I really fucking do.” He grabbed his gun again setting it down on your chest, “That’s my favorite gun now, ima get your name carved in it.” That gun will forever be by his side from now on.

━━━━━━━♥︎━━━━━━━

4 my whores.

[jaylaxies]

HARD THOUGHT !

WC: 1k words

CW: smut, daddy kink, slight manipulation, corruption kink, usage of nicknames.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi i got a lil carried away w this one! it’s inspired by these two asks here and here! :3

Jake is sweet, almost too sweet to be true and that’s why you trust him blindly with everything. The way he never hesitates to give you prolonged hugs, the way his eyes always provide you with comfort and his words sound like sweet melody to you, it’s a given fact that you won’t want anyone else to teach you how to kiss but your best friend Jake, you simply want to be good for your crush, Heeseung, and so you most certainly didn’t wish to be totally clueless when it comes to such things.

Jake was more than willing to help, “of course i'll help, we don’t want Heeseung to be unsatisfied now, do we?” He’d chuckle, hating the fact that you wanted to do it for another man, yet he had his own ways to keep you close to him, one being-providing you help for his own benefit. “But Jake, won’t it be wrong if I use you for this?” You’d ask, genuine concern plastered on your face and he finds it cute how you think it’s you who’s using him, when in reality, it’s quite the opposite.

“Oh, princess. You don’t have to worry about it, I just want to help you,” he’d smile, making you feel at ease as he starts proceeding with his plan, the first step—kissing.

He’d pat his lap, making your eyes go wide but you’d follow and sit on his lap, straddling him on the couch as his big hands would hold you in place and he’d ask you to kiss him, smiling when you lean in for a delicate peck, groaning when he bites your lip, eliciting a weak moan out of you.

“Jake—” you’d whimper, unknowingly pressing your clothed cunt on his hardening cock, feeling a newfound feeling erupt in your lower abdomen, even more so when he cups your cheek, tilting your face to get a better access to your lips, his plush ones serenading you like there’s no tomorrow, “that’s not what you should call me, princess,” he mutters.

Your eyes widen, looking up at him in question, “Heeseung would love it if you call him daddy,” he smirks, “say it, baby.” He’d urge you, throwing Heeseung’s name to strengthen his case. “D—daddy?” You’d whisper, allowing him to caress your swollen lips. “That’s right, princess. You’re such a good girl for me.” He makes sure to take his time kissing you dumb that night, to the point you lose your sleep, clutching your chest as the vivid images of Jake come back to your mind, you wanted more.

And each day, he taught you more, touching the expanse of your body, getting rid of your clothes turn by turn. The wetness returned each time you tried something new with him, your body felt as if it was on fire as he pushed you into your subspace in all the right ways.

“Daddy!” You moaned, gripping the bed sheet when he tasted your wetness for the first time, his warm breath made it tingle to the point you were shivering. “That’s it babygirl, just trust daddy, yeah?” He said against your folds, accent deeper than ever as he immersed himself in eating you out, giving you your very first orgasm.

You were dazed, wanting more and more. Then came the day you finally saw his cock, his eyes staring at you with such intensity as you could only look at his veiny, leaking cock with innocent and curious eyes.

He grunted when you held him, “you’re doing so well, princess. So good for daddy,” he lets out, holding the back of your head gently as you continued to do just as he directed, smiling once he fills your mouth as his thick cum spurts out on your tongue, making you want to gulp it down, “wanna be so good for daddy always.” You’d smile, forgetting about why you were doing this in the first place, Heeseung wasn’t the one you thought about these days, rather, it was your daddy Jake.

“Tell me what you want, princess?” He’d ask with a sweet smile, which almost looked like a smirk, “daddy,” you’d cry out, “want y—your cock in m—me, I can't wait anymore,” you’d tell him as he’d kiss your tears away, “daddy will give you everything you want, babygirl,” he’d pat your head lovingly despite being in such a compromising position, his tip rubbing on your entrance. He doesn’t rush, he loves seeing you squirm, blabbering out words which do not make sense just because you’re so enraptured by the man on top of you—your daddy who’s more than willing to provide you with everything you need.

He loves it, how fucked up his princess looks with her smudged lipstick and mascara running down her cheeks with her crystalline teardrops, which keep on flowing with the immense pleasure you receive. He loves that he’ll get to fuck you, that his cock will be the first to enter your prettiest cunt, which is his and his only. You were reliant upon him for pleasure, nothing else felt good without your daddy and when he finally gave you the taste of his cock buried deep in your pussy, it felt more pleasurable than it hurt.

“Daddy—” you whisper, eyes closing as you let him take over and kiss you, his hands all over your body, as if he had memorized you completely, touching the most sensitive spots as he thrusted even harder in your leaking pussy, your walls squeezing his cock to the point he couldn’t help but groan out, “so wet for daddy’s cock, yeah? You like it, baby? That’s my good fucking girl, all mine.” He’s right, you’re all his now and you won’t want it otherwise, making a mess on his cock.

Your mind fuzzy with his thoughts through and through, ruining your innocence as he moulded your brain in such a way that you couldn’t help but yearn for him.

And just like that, Jake had successfully corrupted you to the point of no comeback.

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[ptergwen]

peter parker in glasses owns my heart. can you write something about him in glasses and reader is all over him. (doesn’t have to be smut but can it be a little spicy?)

ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist

w/c: 699

warnings: 18+, a lil angst, explicit language, suggestive, and implied smut

a/n: oh absolutely! i had to use tom as my reference because his peter never wears glasses :/ also not to sound like a broken record but pls join my new taglist besties

peter’s lips twitch into a frown as he opens up his new glasses case. he picks the glasses up by their bridge and looks them over, debating whether or not to put them on.

he used to need glasses before he got his powers. the spider bite gave him perfect vision, so he stopped wearing them and hasn’t since. now that he’s older, though, his vision isn’t what it once was. he’s been straining his eyes all these years, squinting through the eyes of his spider-man mask and staring at computer screens for college assignments. it’s back to glasses he goes.

he’s not too upset that he has to wear them again. what he’s worried about is what you’ll think.

the thick, black frames peter wore as a kid were dorky and often got him teased. they were all he could afford, and it’s not like he’s rolling in the dough now either. the new pair he purchased is hardly an upgrade.

you didn’t know peter before he was spider-man. the two of you met and began dating in college, well after he got ripped, taller, and lost the glasses. if he starts wearing glasses again, what if you’re not attracted to him anymore? what if you see him as the nerd everyone else did?

there’s a knock at peter’s dorm door. it must be you. you two have a date later. peter inhales, a deep breath, and opens the door.

“hey, pete.”

“hi, baby. come in.”

you set a hand on peter’s cheek and greet him with a quick kiss, smiling. he smiles back and shuts the door behind you. you take a seat on his bed.

“are those your glasses?”

you point to the pair in peter’s hand.

he’d told you he needed them, but he didn’t tell you they were ready. he was hoping to avoid you seeing him in them for as long as he could.

“uh, yeah. i just picked them up.”

“put them on, i wanna see.”

“i dunno, y/n. i don’t know how they look on me. i haven’t tried them yet.”

“well, then now’s a good a time as any. put them on!”

peter’s face scrunches up, mouth opening to protest. you jut out your bottom lip.

“please? for me?”

as much as he wants to, he can’t say no to that.

“okay, but i warned you.”

peter unfolds the glasses by their hinges and slips them on, adjusting them so they’re behind his ears. he pushes them up on his nose by the bridge. he finally meets your eyes from across the room, teeth clenched nervously. you ogle him for a solid amount of time without blinking, mouth hanging open.

“are they that bad?”

peter starts to take his glasses off.

“no, leave them!”

“but i thought you didn’t like them.”

“are you kidding? i love them!”

you get up from peter’s bed and walk back over to him. peter’s features hold shock. your hands come to either side of his face, lips forming a grin.

“they look so good, pete. they really suit you. and they’re actually super sexy, too.”

“you think they’re sexy?”

“uh huh. they make you look all mature. feel like i should call you sir or something.”

“sir is good. but be honest, do you actually like them? because i think they’re kind of embarrassing.”

you leave a kiss on peter’s nose, just under his glasses.

“i like you with or without glasses, peter. there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? not with me.”

peter cracks a smile and loops his arms around your middle.

“thank you. that made me feel way better.”

“of course.”

one of your hands moves down peter’s body, two fingers inching their way up to his chest.

“seriously, though. the glasses are turning me on. what time does your roommate get back?”

“not til late, why?”

“because.”

you beckon peter closer. he turns his head so you can whisper in his ear. his brows raise, grip on you tightening.

“oh… oh, shit. but i thought we were going out?”

“not anymore. we’re staying in.”

peter lowers his glasses. you push them back up.

“the glasses stay on when we fuck.”

tags: @mystic-writings @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @lnmp89 @jenoslov @crvshnburnn @yourlocalomlette @starlight-starks @belovasheart @liltimmyst @eviewriites @hollandsangel @parkerctrl @eichenhouseproperty @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @varshhyy @ellebutnotwoods @magicalxdaydream @tayyx @parkerdadda

[tvgals]

imagine eren w a southern reader who can cook a mean ass southern dinner …

eren calls up all of his friends for a fun lil dinner, helping in preparation of course. “okay baby, i washed the greens.” eren sighed out. “how many times?” you ask, putting the cornbread in the oven. “one?” eren says, a confused look on his face. “unt unt. two mo’ and then they’ll be fine.” you say, starting to coat your macaroni in cheese.

“what? three times? for what?” eren asks, turning the water back on. “make sure they clean enough.” you shrug. “just cause you don’t wash yo ass three times inna shower don’t mean my greens don’t.” you say, smiling at your own little quip. eren rolls his eyes and shakes his head playfully. once everything was set up in its respective places, baked macaroni in a glass pan sat on top of a towel on the counter with the greens, cornbread, chicken and corn following behind it.

“damn it smell good as fuck in here!” you heard connie from the front door. “mhm. i’m finna tear this shit up.” sasha grins, rubbing her hands together. “make sure y’all wash y’all’s hands.” you say, walking into the living room and flopping on the couch. “damn, y/n made allat?” connie ask, grabbing a plate. “yup. and she got some peach cobbler in the fridge.” eren smiles. he’s so proud of his girlfriend’s hard work. connie gets his plate before armin, jean, sasha and mikasa and almost falls out on the floor after taking a bite of the macaroni and greens together. “awl shit, eren…this plate mean as fuck.” he laughs, eating the rest of his food.

it’s safe to say everyone was sleep after eating dinner.

[coconutcordiale]

do not disturb

pairing- jake 'hangman' seresin x female!reader (no use of y/n)

synopsis-

“It’s one hundred degrees in this room,” Hangman defends himself. “I can’t sleep in pants, I’ll die.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, considering just sleeping in the hallway yourself and ending this torture. “Is your penchant for drama genetic? Are your sisters like this too?”

warnings- 18+ only minors DNI, what's a plot never met her, explicit protected piv sex, lil corruption/innocence kink, choking (pls look up the correct way before doing it), hangman's dirty mouth, size kink (if jake doesn't have a big dick I'm staging a revolt), brat tamer hangman if you squint, inexperienced ish reader (tried but I'm a hoe so idk if I managed it), no kink negotiation here (talk to your partners first irl), safewords not explicitly stated but I promise this is consensual af, excessive pet names, exasperated sleepy friends to lovers

length- 4k this was supposed to be like 1k I don't know blame hangman

an- this is just smut w lil fluff sprinkles. i'm a hangman girl (read: I'm obsessed with glen powell) so I felt some type of way about being mean to him in tailspin & that's why this now exists. also idfk what this even is sorry! hope it's not terrible ok ily bye

Technically, it’s the middle of the night. 

That’s why you’re burying homicidal urges when you hear knocking on your hotel room door. 

Urges that increase tenfold when you open it to see Jake Seresin, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly in an old Navy shirt that looks way too soft for your sleep addled brain to deal with right now. 

“Hangman,” you greet drily. “Why the fuck.”

Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you’re not unhappy to see him, per se, but it’s well past acceptable social hours. He’ll have to forgive your less than enthusiastic welcome. Part of you thinks you might still be sleeping.

He at least has the decency to look sheepish for waking you up. Well, about as sheepish as Hangman is capable of looking. “Coyote said he was bringing someone back to our room. Can I crash with you tonight? Everyone else is either hooking up or dead asleep.”

Fucking weddings. 

You narrow your eyes. “What if I have someone here?”

He smirks and you kind of want to slap him. 

A testament to your willpower, you sigh instead, briefly wondering if it’s really that bad to force him to sleep in the hallway, before opening the door and stepping to the side. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he drawls, letting you feel the heat of his body as he passes by you, just a touch too close for comfort.

“Cool pjs.” He smirks again, raking his eyes up and down your colorful matching shorts and shirt set. 

“Bite me.”

Hangman smiles good-naturedly causing you to idly wonder if anything has ever bothered him in his entire life. 

“You’re real cute when you’re tired,” he says instead of being offended and now you’re debating if you actually should slap him, or maybe yourself for the way his compliment brings heat to your cheeks. 

“Where’s Phoenix? Thought you were sharing a room with her this weekend.”

Your stomach drops as you consider that Phoenix might be why he came to crash in your room, and you try not to make a face at its betrayal. 

“She’s probably in your room with Coyote,” you deadpan to cover up your discomfort, and then relish in the way his mouth drops open in surprise. “Christ, aren’t you supposed to be smart, Hangman? I’m kidding, she met someone at the reception.”

You know you’re being a little more abrasive with him than normal, but you can’t quite help the jabs that come out when you’re feeling uneasy. 

And Hangman does nothing, if not make you very, very uneasy. Especially like this, with his blonde hair soft and flopping all over his forehead, that old t-shirt clearly having been shrunk in the wash over the years straining across his chest, riding up a little high above his sweatpants. 

The gears are clearly turning in his head, no doubt forming something witty to gain back the slight upper hand you’ve gained in this verbal sparring. 

You should be preparing yourself for whatever he’s about to say that’s sure to make you lose your footing. But he looks like a goddamn sleepwear model like this, mellow and soft and cuddly, eyes drooping a little from tiredness and the whiskey he was sipping on all night, clothes begging to have someone’s hands fisted in them and…okay. Stopping that train of thought right the fuck now.

Nothing but danger lies down that road with a girl like you and a guy like Hangman.

You’re contemplating if you could get away with taking a cold shower when he finally looks around your room, its distinct lack of two beds apparently killing whatever comeback he had on the tip of his tongue. 

“I can sleep on the floor.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck again and his uncharacteristic awkwardness is starting to make your skin itch. 

Message received, Hangman. We both know I’m not your type.

You’ve seen the girls he usually goes home with. Even if every single one of them wasn’t annoyingly beautiful, you already know where you stand with him. For all intents and purposes, you’re just another one of the guys. Sure, you don’t take a different conquest home every other night like the rest of them, but you banter and compete with them like buddies. 

And since you and Hangman are just buddies, you roll your eyes for appearances. “Just get in the bed, Seresin. It’s huge, I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”

He shrugs, like he’s giving himself credit for his half-assed offer and goes to pull his sweatpants off. You give him a withering look of disbelief, studiously avoiding looking at the way his boxers stretch over his muscular thighs. 

“It’s one hundred degrees in this room,” Hangman defends himself. “I can’t sleep in pants, I’ll die.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, considering just sleeping in the hallway yourself and ending this torture. “Is your penchant for drama genetic? Are your sisters like this too?”

He just gives you a dazzling smile in response, and you spin away from him before everything inside you melts. 

Turning the thermostat down, you shoot an evident you’re welcome stare in his direction, but his sweatpants remain in their place on the floor. He’s laid out on the bed, all tanned skin and muscle, arms crossed behind his head in a way that’s surely meant to draw your attention straight to his biceps. 

Deep breath, you tell yourself. You can do this, just lay down on the other side and don’t be weird. 

You get in and pull the covers tight, hoping the shiver that runs through you as the air conditioning kicks on isn’t noticeable. 

“And I’m dramatic,” Jake huffs, getting under the blanket and rolling closer to you. You tense, merely out of reflex and a frown creases his eyebrows almost imperceptibly before he gets comfortable on his side, pulls you into his arms. “Relax, sugar. Just trying to keep you warm, since you’re always so cold. Been told I’m like a furnace.”

By who?  You want to snap at him, but instead you swallow the words and lean into his chest. He really is warm. 

“Would never do anything you don’t want me to,” he mumbles, but there’s a trace of a chuckle in his voice that feels like he’s making fun of you.

Mocking aside, that's definitely true.

You'd never expect him to do any of the things you want him to, either. There's a reason your apprehension stems from you crossing some sort of invisible line with him in your bed and not vice versa.

"I know," you whisper, not trusting yourself to say much else without divulging all the thoughts about him you've buried deep under your comforter at home.

“How come you didn’t ask anyone else to come up and keep you warm?” Jake teases, after a few moments of silence where you were busy focusing on the whirr of the air conditioner and trying to ignore your pounding heart. 

You squint, still kind of wondering if he can feel your pulse racing. 

“The curly haired guy, from the wedding,” he supplies helpfully to answer your confused expression.

Oh. You’re surprised Jake noticed you talking to him at all. “It’s not like I wanted to sleep with him. We were just chatting.” 

“Well, he definitely wanted to.” You’d love to imagine there’s a hint of bitterness in his tone, but you know that’s just wishful thinking.

“That’s not really my thing,” you say quietly, as if he doesn’t already know. He knew enough to know you wouldn’t have anyone up here with you, after all.

It’s so much easier, laying here in the dark, not having to meet his beautiful green eyes, to be honest. All your jabs having melted into smooth, silky edges at the warmth of his body.

There’s a playful lilt to Jake’s voice again. “Sex?”

You smack him lightly on the chest. “One-night stands. I can never get comfortable enough with a stranger to have a good time, things are just better for me when it’s more involved.”

When there’s feelings, you don’t say, because you’re pretty sure he can put two and two together without you having to spell it out.

You still kind of wish you hadn’t said anything, are kicking yourself for admitting that out loud when he cuts through the anxiety of your internal monologue.

“Nothing wrong with knowing what you want, darlin’.”

“It sucks sometimes,” you admit. “It can be a little lonely.”

“Better than being with the wrong person if it’s just going to make you feel bad.”

Part of you wants to roll your eyes and scoff at him, as if Casanova Jake Seresin has any idea what that feels like, but he’s rubbing small, comforting circles in between your shoulder blades and it’s short-circuiting your brain. You find yourself running your fingers up his spine instead, playing with the soft threads of his t-shirt like you’ve wanted to since the moment you saw him at your door tonight.

“Feels nice,” he comments, pulling you in closer.

Spurred on by his praise you keep going, wandering down his back to where his shirt rides up. You look down and see that little strip of blonde hair that disappears into the waistband of his boxers, slung low enough that you can see that stupid Adonis belt on his abs. Your hand moves to the front of him of its own accord, tracing the ridges there, brushing dangerously close to the strip of elastic at the top.

Jake’s arm pops up so he can support his head with his hand, looking down at you imploringly. “What’re you playing at, sugar?”

You take your hand back like it’s been burned, cheeks suddenly hot as you realize you’d gotten carried away. “I’m sorry, I just—I didn’t think about what I was doing. Got distracted.”

He’s definitely smirking, you can practically feel it in the air above you, but you’re sure as hell not going to look up and see that self-important grin for yourself.

He pulls your fingers back to his stomach, and you can’t help but immediately brush them over his happy trail. The dusting of blonde hair surprises you a little, having expected Hangman to be too vain to leave any hair around that might distract from his physique.

You’re silently wondering if he has any hair on his chest when he catches a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You see his green eyes darkened, studying your face for something. You’re not entirely sure what.

Apparently finding what they’re looking for his expression softens, the hand supporting his head going to brush hair away from your face and you break eye contact, feeling small under his undivided attention. His fingers hover for a second, like he wants to do something more, but go to rest on your pillow instead.

“Thought that I had you pegged wrong all along for a second there, using lines to get in my pants. That’s not really my thing,” he mimics, smile twitching at the edges of his lips.

“Oh, I’m—Jake, I’m not—” you stutter, certain you must be bright red now. Your fingers are playing with the hem of his t-shirt, nervous and fidgety energy working to get released.

I’m not like this, you want to say. I’m not like you.

He exhales audibly, looking down at you, at the cherry blooming on your cheeks, at where your dainty fingers pluck at his shirt. His hand clenches once in the pillow above your head, knuckles practically white, before releasing.

“I know, sweets, was only joking. Fuck, I get that you’re a good girl,” he breathes, strained like he’s barely holding it together. “S’why I always want to ruin you.”

What.

Everything inside your mind shuts off.

All you can hear is the humming of the air conditioner, the slow intake of air into his lungs. Something inside you clenches.

You’re fairly certain a sound that closely resembles a whimper breaks from your throat, but you can’t know for sure, since all thoughts have been erased from your brain.

You hear him suck in a sharp breath, breathing in and out evenly for a couple seconds, regaining control, before he speaks again. “Sorry, sweetheart. Shouldn’t have said that. I won’t, told you I’d never do anything you don’t want.”

You already know that. That’s not the problem. The problem is how many nights you’ve already spent wishing his fingers were on you instead of your own. How many nights you've spent biting back his name, too embarrassed to let your lips form the syllables of someone who you were certain didn’t want you.

Now, though, those walls of certainty seem to be crumbling at every edge. 

“What if I want you to?” You ask quietly, barely above a whisper. It almost gets stuck in your throat, but you force your lips to form those words and let them leave your lungs.

Jake’s entire body goes tense.

But then he rolls over, putting you on your back and caging you in with his arms.

“You mean that?” He’s looking at you intensely, so intensely you might be frightened if you weren’t distracted by the weight of him on top of you, by every single scorching point of contact between you. 

All you can manage is a nod, eyes starting to glaze over as he fills every inch of your vision.

He chuckles. “Guess that’s a yes.”

Jake ducks his head to kiss you, it’s sweet, sweeter than you ever would’ve expected from him. Sweeter than you thought it would be when you were hiding beneath the sheets in your bed, with your fingers on your clit, choking back his name. 

But then he slides his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss as he tangles a hand in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you moan straight into his mouth. His lips move down to ghost over your neck, across your jaw. 

And suddenly his words are hot in your ear. “What do you want, sweetheart? Want me to ruin you? Tell you about all the times I’ve thought about taking you apart?”

Your thighs clench together, heat blooming in your stomach and you notice, all at once, how wet you really are, slick pooling between your thighs under the wispy material of your sleep shorts. 

You open your mouth to say yes, desperately trying to find your voice, to find your familiar jabs so you can go toe to toe with him like normal, but all that comes out is a squeak. 

His hand stops at your neck, just briefly, thumb rubbing on your pulse point. And it turns every last bit of you in you to sweet, sticky, melting caramel. Your breath hitches, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a whimper.

He’s not even doing anything, not really, but your mind immediately latches onto what he could be.

Jake’s eyes go wide for just a second before something wicked glints in the thin ring of green left.

“Thought you were so fucking innocent,” he grunts, running his thumb from your pulse point to your jaw and back again. You bring your hands to his, pulling him closer, silently asking him to press down.

You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t know how to explain. You may not do this kind of thing a lot, but you know what you like. Your imagination has certainly run wild enough times.

But any words that might’ve been readying themselves to leave your lips wither into nothing the moment he squeezes your neck.

“Jake,” you gasp, words breathy underneath the fingers around your throat. “Jake, I…”

“Hmm, what’s that, sweetheart?” His hand relents a little so you can answer, but you immediately wish he’d tighten his hold again.

“Yes, Jake,” you whine. “I want you to ruin me.”

And you don’t know what’s come over you, if you were even an ounce more present in your own body you’d probably be embarrassed.

But Jake’s head drops next to his hand at the crook of your neck, and he makes a strangled noise, the moan reverberating through your skin. 

“Jesus,” he mutters against you. “Trying to kill me, sugar?”

You don’t have an answer for that because you’re not trying to do anything, you just want more.

Your fingers are still grasping his hand, the one still around your neck, tightly, like you’re scared he’ll pull it away, leave you to drift without his grip to ground you, to remind you this moment is real. It’s actually happening. 

He lifts his head up to latch his mouth onto yours again and it’s heavier, so much more desperate than before. You whine into him as he slides his hands down your body, pushing up your shirt and you want to laugh at the absurdity of it, that you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been in your entire life and you’re both still fully clothed. 

He peels your shirt up and over your head, letting out another obscene groan at the sight of your bare chest. 

“Fucking perfect,” he murmurs. 

You fist your hands in his shirt in answer, tugging upwards, figuring fair is fair. You’re trying hard not to blush, not to show how his approval makes you light and fuzzy. He grins and sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt up and over his head, ruffling his floppy hair in the process. 

Lips parting unconsciously, your tongue flicks out to wet them. You knew he was built, but it’s overwhelming, really, to have all that tan skin on display just inches from your face. You get to run your hands up the length of his entire chest now though, leaning up so your fingers can dance through the tuft of blonde hair near the top.

Jake pushes you down on your back, firm, into the pillows. Smiling deviously when you pout and immediately clench your fingers in the sheets beside you, when your thighs press together, seeking some sort of relief to the ache between them. The seam of your shorts presses just right against your center, and you let your head fall back with a soft moan. 

Something akin to dangerous flashes in Jake’s eyes, as he hooks his fingers in your shorts, pulling down in one swift motion and tossing them off the bed before you can gain any more pleasure from the thin material. He pushes your legs apart and groans at the sight of you, glistening wet for him. “God, sweetheart, look at you.”

Just when you think you might die if he doesn’t put his hands on you, if he doesn’t touch you, if he just keeps looking at you like that, like he wants to devour you; he swipes a finger up your slit, tip pressing lightly, teasingly against your bundle of nerves. It’s too much, but not enough all at the same time. He slides a finger in, curling it exactly right on the first try and you can’t help but keen, throwing your head back into the pillows.  

He sucks in a sharp breath at your reaction, eyelids going heavy as he presses rough figure eights on your clit. “Want to get my mouth on you, get my tongue inside that gorgeous pussy, but I can’t wait, darlin’, been thinking about this for too long.” 

Warmth blooms in your chest at the realization he might’ve imagined this even half as much as you have. You’re sure you’re smiling like an idiot. 

Reaching down to the pocket of his sweatpants, he pulls a condom out of his wallet, and you want to tease him, presumptuous much? But any semblance of thought goes out the window when he pulls his boxers down, hard cock slapping against his stomach. Your mouth is suddenly, immediately sandpaper dry. 

Fuck.

Of course he’s huge. No one with an ego as colossal as his doesn’t have a reason, or several to back it up.

You don’t even hear yourself saying it out loud, don’t even realize the curses forming on your tongue, until he grins, eyebrow raised, chest puffed out in pride. “Think you can handle me, sweetheart?”

It takes you a few moments to answer, to figure out that you should answer, since you’re transfixed on him, on the strong fingers rolling the condom onto his length. If you had any sense of self-preservation at all you might be genuinely worried about his question, about not being able to walk tomorrow. 

Hopefully you don’t sound as winded as you feel when you tell him to shut the fuck up. 

Before you can bother with any stupid survival instincts, you’re pulling him down on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist, savoring the grunt it draws from him as his tip reaches your folds.

“Love it when you’re mouthy, darlin’, nice little challenge for me,” he promises, before pushing himself inside of you. 

He goes slow, tortuously slow, and you screw your eyes shut tight as your walls flutter trying to adjust to him. You don’t notice you’re on the verge of a sob until he brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead. “Just a little more, sweetheart, you can take it.”

The stretch of him seems to go on forever, just on this side of agonizing, but way too good for you to care about the pain, too good to be real and you can barely focus on anything else. Can barely hear Jake’s molten honey voice repeating a slew of continuous praises in your ear, can barely register the weight of his body covering every inch of you. 

Any moment now you’ll wake up in your bed at home, covered in sweat, grinding into your bed, achingly alone. You’re almost certain of it.  

But then you feel his lips on yours again, hand holding your cheek, gentle, affectionate as he bottoms out. When he finally moves, the heavy, slick pull of him in and out of you reminds you that you’re here. 

You don’t even recognize yourself, mewling, long string of unintelligible noises tumbling from your lips. 

Jake practically preens. “Where’d my feisty little brat go? That all it takes to shut you up, sugar?”

You can only hope those were rhetorical questions because he’s hiking your legs over his shoulders, picking up the pace, new angle hitting that spot deep inside you again and again, and you can’t form a single thought, let alone words. 

Jake’s fingers find your center again and press against your clit in heavy, decisive circles, winding that coil in you tighter and tighter. 

“So close,” you whimper, fingers tearing at the bedsheets.

He smirks. 

“Did I say you could come, sweetheart?”

Your jaw drops in surprise, eyes rolling back and ears ringing, mind engulfed in the heat burning in your belly. 

He’s still grinning smugly as one of those large hands comes back to your neck. 

You whine, high-pitched and breathless, eyes fluttering closed, gripping the hand around your neck as he applies pressure, desperate for something to hold onto, and you think you’re trying to form words, some of them may even be making it out of your mouth, something along the lines of please please please, let me come, Jake, I can’t, JakeJakeJakeJake…

“So pretty all fucked out like this, stretched around my cock.” His gaze is fixed on where he’s plunging in and out of you, tone almost reverent. “It’s okay, sweetheart, come for me, wanna feel you, want…”

You don’t hear the rest because you’re focused on where his fingers dig into the sides of your neck, tipping over the edge, string of lights inside of you tangled and blowing a fuse. Everything bursts all at once and you’re clutching Jake’s arms so hard you’re positive you’re leaving marks, but it doesn’t matter, you don’t care because you’re in a free fall, toes curling in bliss. 

When you come to, you’re just barely aware of his pace growing erratic, hand on your throat loosening as it goes to brush your sweaty hair back from your forehead. His thrusts are getting shallower, mouth spewing a litany of jumbled praises so tight, so wet, so perfect baby, when suddenly he’s arching over you, hands tight on your hips as he empties into the condom. 

You’re not sure you’re still functioning. You’re not sure you’ll ever move again. You’re pretty sure you’ll ever have a coherent thought again.

Distantly you can hear his heavy breathing, feel his weight on top of you but you don’t fully register it. 

“Sweetheart?” He asks when you’ve been silent for minutes, or maybe hours, who knows. 

You look up at him, blinking slowly, eyelids made of lead, vision unfocused.

Jake grins, and it's almost boyish. It's annoyingly cute. “That good?” 

That cuts through the haze enough that you kind of want to slap him, for the arrogance littering those three little words. Or yourself, for helping his ego grow any bigger. 

As it stands, you’re too dazed to actually do either. You nod, silently burrowing your face into his neck. He chuckles again, and you decide maybe you don’t hate that teasing sound that much, maybe you’ll spend your days trying to elicit it from him as often as possible. You’re still thinking about it when he peels himself off you to clean you both up. 

When he settles back down, he pulls you in tight, curls around you in a way that should be uncomfortable, like he’d crawl inside your skin if he could. 

+

Jake is still glued to you when you wake up in the morning, and your heart clenches too affectionately to be irritated by the fact that you can’t really move. Or breathe. 

But you take one look at the smirk on his face, the mischievous glimmer that seems to linger even in his sleep and the butterflies in your stomach turn to stone.

You don’t think he’s that much of an asshole, you’re pretty sure the bravado is all a front. That he wouldn’t do something like this, knowing how you operate, without any intention of moving forward, but the anxiety still thrums incessantly beneath your ribcage.

You’re lost inside your own head, fighting the panic rising in your chest when he yawns, rubbing his eyes before tucking himself back into your side, impossibly closer.  

“Guess that fifty bucks I gave Phoenix to find somewhere else to stay was a steal,” he mumbles, fingers dancing across your bare skin. 

It’s his turn to pat himself on the back as your mouth drops open in shock. 

Jake grins, eyes sparkling as he presses a kiss into your hair. “Good luck getting rid of me now.”

[ac3ifix]

ASK N U SHALL RECEIVE

req: please do a part two where we are pregnant and he fucks us and then a time skip to fluff with us and him with the kid and or kids🫣 and maybe smut at the end you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable with it tho❤️❤️

OKAYY SO THIS IS A LOT BUT ILL DEF TRY MY BEST 🫶🫶

(PS: I didnt add smut at the end bc i think it wouldve been a lil too much!! apologies for it being a bit rushed)

cw: purposfully lowercase, second person, p n v, smut, FTM reader, male reader, teen pregnancy (reader is 18, kage is 19) kinda shit writing, not proofread.

kageyama was THRILLED when you told him that the test was positive, he was smirking from hands to feel and saying praise and how good you are for him.

“I really hope he’s a boy..” He mumbles one day, leaning into your already round stomach

“I dont think id be able to live if there was a mini you walking around,” you groan in annoyance.

“i love you,” he says suddenly

“i love you too,” you reply

“I was talking to him,” he says, looking up at you and smirking.

you glare at him and at that point decide to ignore him for the rest of the day.

now where did that lead you?

here. legs spread while he slams into you.

“cmon baby, you cant ignore me all day,” he groans, gripping at your hips and basically using you like a fleshlight

“ngh…tobio- gnna mess w..with the kid,” you moan, gripping at the sheets as you approach your third orgasm of the night.

“mess with him hm? how doya think hed like a sibling hm?” he says, whispering in your ear before biting down on your neck.

“T..tobs- he isnt even..fuck..born yet!” you moan, moving your hands from the bedsheet to begin to claw at his back.

“alas, you admit its going to be a boy then, hm?” he says, a smirk evident in his voice.

“No-“ you begin, but youre interrupted by your orgasm. “fuck..fuck..Tobio!!” you moan loudly

“M’close, baby,” he groans, his thrusts growing sloppy yet faster, his grip on your hips grows painful and he pounds you harder, releasing into you with one final, rough, thrust. “fuck, my love, you feel so good,” he sighs.

you mumble incoherent words in response. gently, he wraps his arms around your body, pulling his limp cock from your hole with a soft popping sound. “doya think that made our chances higher of having twins..?”

“baby..thats..not how it works,” you sigh in response

“alas, but it should be,” he says, dramatically placing his hand over his forehead and faking a swoon.

you let out an exhausted sigh and he tightens his grip on you in response. “Shh baby, youre safe with me, no matter how many kids we have theyre going to be so perfect.”

…

“KAGEYAMA ITS ALL YOUR FAULT!” you shout playfully, holding two baby boys in your arms.

“Shh, my love, youll wake them up,” he replies, undoing his shoes.

you sigh and walk over to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “how was practice?” you ask gently, whispering in order to not wake your kids.

“it was alright, thanks,” he grumbles back, clearly annoyed. “my days better not that im home with my three favorite boys,” he says, kissing your forehead gently.

you hum in response, smiling happily at his remark. gently, he grabs your hand and leads you and the boys to the bedroom, placing you on the bed and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. he buries his head in the crook of your neck and closes his eyes, content with the situation.

“I love you,” he mumbles

“Are you talking to me or the kids?” you ask playfully.

END

I REALLY HOPE THAT WAS GOOD ENOUGH LMK IF THERE IS ANYTHING YOU WANT CHANGED N I WILL ADD/SUBTRACT ANY PART OF IT. IM SO SORRY ITS KINDA RUSHED 😞😞

GIVE ME KID NAMES PLSS I WANNA NAME THEM LIKE KATSUKI AND KATSUMI BUT I THINK THEY MIGHT B TOO SIMILAR

[tainted-liquor]

Grande Jeté⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚

Hobie Brown x BlackFem!Ballerina!Reader Tws: BADDDD British, light swearing, Ingredients: Sugar, Kisses, and a lil bit of smiles! (fluff) W/C:950 A/N: Heyyy! pls forgive me bro I know 0 Londoners, n I have no idea how to write their accent lol. BEAARRR WITH ME😭

Hobie never expected in his life that he would be in this predicament. Here he was, sitting alongside Gwen as she eagerly ranted to him about her 'older sister' being in this dance. She spent about two days convincing Hobie to go with her, saying that he would be supporting an aspiring artist. "It's about to start!" Gwen cheered silently, clapping her hands quickly before pointing to the red curtains ascending upwards. "There she is!" Gwen whispered as she pointed towards your flexed form, spine curving upward as your back leg extended out behind you as your arms create a sleek invisible line between the tips of your fingers and the bottom of your toes.

He was absolutely enchanted. He had never seen someone make ballet look so sacred in his eyes, brushing off the silly dance as a bunch of jumps and turns. He watched as you slowly began to break free from your frozen stance, moving with such calculated precision and absolute elegance. It was like he was watching the performance through a tunnel, eyes glued on you and you only as you pirouetted with such grace it put every princess in the world to absolute shame. He had heard from Gwen first-hand just how painful it was to do ballet, but watching you twist and turn on the very tips of your toes put everything into perspective. In his mind, you were a precious dove ghosting the surface of the water with your pretty pink pointe shoes.

"Gwendy, you said this's one of your mates, right?" He asked, eyes still absolutely glued to you. Gwen gave him an overjoyed nod, clearly biting back the loudest scream of approval she's ever given. "Introduce me later, yea?" He mumbled as he watched you shoot Gwen a rather smooth wave, disguising it within your movements to not stray from your routine...Man, you were good. You looked absolutely bewitching as your melanated skin shone under the spotlight, your movements remaining soft and delicate whilst carrying yourself with such poise. If Gwen would've told Hobie about you earlier he would've bought the damn tickets himself.

When up on that stage, you always felt free and liberated. You spent all of your life in a studio, accepting every drop of boiling-hot criticism with cupped palms, watching as it burned and seared your skin and leave its metaphorical mark that manifested in the form of experience. You incorporated the elegant style of dance into your everyday life, weaving the very threads of its history into your personality and wearing it like a proud necklace. For you, dancing was your very being. You spent countless nights banging shoes on your walls, patching up your battered and bruised legs countless times until only a ghost of feeling remained in the tips of your toes. You've learned to crawl, then stumble, then walk, run, and finally jump all in the span of over 10+ years.

You followed the inaudible signals in the ever-so-soothing piano, utilizing the cues that you had ingrained into the back of your mind as you assumed each and every position and pose. You were in a fuck ton of pain, and you were out of breath, but what's a little bit of hurt compared to a dream 10 years in the making? When the curtains finally closed after everyone took their final bow, the roaring applause made everything worth every single twinge of pain. You eagerly ran off the stage, enveloping Gwen in a tight hug as she introduced you to the incredibly tall and lanky man next to her. The clash between the two of you was starkly obvious, with you being dressed in shades of pink, ivory, and soft beiges that complimented every aspect of your outfit.

"'Ey there, I'm 'Obie" he stated as he gave me a small smile, extending his hand towards me gently, to which I gladly accept. Truth be told, I didn't understand half of a fuck of what he just said. I pulled a smile and nod and used context clues to fill in the gaps. "That's a nice accent...where you from?" you asked with a warm smile. He gives a light chuckle before answering with a small "East London. You were really great out there, by the way. Kick n' prance queen!"

"Thank you! You should drop by my studio sometime, you can watch me and Gwen practice for future shows or just for funsies!" I exclaim with a light giggle. I scanned over Hobie, making a mental note of his rough and sharp look that contrasted with my very being. He reminded me of a black swan, gorgeous and elegant in his own way, but almost twice as intimidating. I wouldn't be lying if I said I truly loved the difference in our aesthetics.

"I tried, but he says that he doesn't-" Gwen begins, with Hobie quickly silencing her by just straight up grabbing her mouth. "Yea, I'd like that. I'll see you la'er then!" He grins as he slowly drags Gwen away, giving you a small wave and a goofy grin as I disappear backstage to change into some normal clothes and deconstruct my makeup.

"You didn't tell me that was the gyaldem you ran wif" Hobie chuckled as he shot Gwen a playful glare. "Well, I TRIED. But you started going on about how you," She dropped her voice an octave, linking a synthetic British accent to her every word. "Don't believe in paying to watch performances!" She teased. Hobie only rolled his eyes, pretending to brush off the matter. But in reality, he couldn't wait to see you again and watch you dance in all your glory.

"So...when's she dancing again?"

[g-xix]

oh my days did u hear about wilbur soot literally physically abusing shelby

YESYESYES I DID!!!

For the girlies that don't know: I was a minecraft girlie in 2021.

And Wilbur Soot was a big part of that MC phase. He was undeniably hot, but he was also quite open ab mental health stuffs + created quite a safe space for minorities whether that be the gay community, mental health talking space... That's all from the top of my head. In short - he's hot and an empath and ppl liked that ab him

He also kinda showed his "quirky loco character" in music vids or just in streams.

Kinda ironic he's now fulfilling the role that character he mockingly made, tho.

What did he do? Well, he was in a relationship w Shelby Shubble and his way of showing "affection" would be to bite her. Kinda understand biting as a way of showing love as long as it's not life threatening, painful, or in aggression... I mean, ChrisMD does that shit all the time to ArthurTV n it seems more endearing than to really do any bads.

Thing is, Wilbur would end up hurting Shelby. Aaaand so Wil said 'hey let's make a safeword for u 2 say when it hurts so that ik and can stop so i don't harm u'.... but when Shelby used that safeword, broski wuld either grind down or go a lil bit harder b4 letting go.

And Shelby's described it as she would oftentimes scream/yell bc it was so hard, and he'd 'smile' afterwards which is mad psycho (term used loosely) imo. Because also, he'd do ts in public??? Yk, with his friendship group around him n Shelby, the lovely jovely couple? Straight out weird negl.

So, there's context.

Lots of varying opinions online which i would soooo love to get into...

BUT DISCLAIMER BEFORE I DO: Realistically, this is abuse, and thus it is a crime. I've talked about this on my page before - cancel culture can be unecessary in minor incidences, and cancel culture can be not-enough in instances whereby people have simply done illegal things.

This is one of those illegal things. So, whilst I do chat about this light-heartedly or for entertainment, gossip-y purposes - do realise that this is a real life problem that has has major issues in many peoples' lives.

Now, continuing with the juicy waffley discussions that ppl like hearing:

So firstly, some of the Twitter memes are fucking hilarious. I do love that under Wilbur's Twitter apology, loads of MCYTers have joined to clown his goofy ahh. And all those memes saying that Bill smelled such a shit apology he returned to twitter after years + the DSMP are like Avengers in Infinity War returning to all fight enemy No1 WILBUR...

But that being said, DREAM REPLYING TOO????

I spoke ab Dream being a groomer around Christmas time + heard loads of ppl out on vouching for Dream or calling him disgusting, dahdahdah... But the fact that sm ppl are turning around and praising Dream for calling out Wilbur's goofiness is acc MAAAD.

Why's everyone forgotten Dream is j as goofy? And an alleged groomer? And just plain? Not even plain something, brodie is just the plainest mf i've ever seen. Ever since he face revealed, his personality j evaporated on out of his body (anyone feel this asw?)

But no, ppl who are now agreeing w Dream to combat Wilbur as if Dream hasn't also committed what is debateably a crime (ik he 'cleared up the rumours' but it's v hard to fight of groomer allegations when you let them sit and marinate for approx 6 months) is fucking WILD shit to me.

Secondly, people are analysing loads of Wilbur's other prev actions too and saying these should've been red flags to Wilbur being an a-hole before we even heard Shubble's solid proof.

And some of these clips of evidence (e.g. Niki saying Wil bites her + threw her, Tommy getting his hand stomped, throwing apple at Techno) feel very valid.

But other bits I do wonder - are they just being over analysed? Yk, like with the clip of Wil shouting at Tommy for streaming + stealing his wallet, i was super sure that was staged as is (j had it confirmed now by the Twitter community note asw lol) and also, whilst Wil's shouting does feel extreme and hurtful from a viewer pov... Having a wallet stolen, place of work broken in to, litr knowing the place where you work to make all income could be taken away from u bc a friend thought it funny to break in n loudly + rowdily stream... i gotta say that some form of anger or upset is valid there. And this isn't to validate Wilbur's assholery, this is just to point out that whilst ppl are throwing clips into the fire and saying "this is more proof Wil was a bad person from the start" - do try see other interpretations of it and form your own line of reasoning - yk - "is this a valid point or is this someone using the drama to get some extra likes and attention to boost their account" (because believe me, ppl would - if ppl would use Techno's death to get more channel views and interactions - ppl would also most definitely use abuse as a means to engage more ppl).

Aaaaaand let's talk about the little Lovejoy band. Ngl i fucken loved their stuff, quite sad to see it go down the drain because 3/4 of them are public targets, now.

So ik we hate Wil for being an abuser. And I've seen that ppl dislike Mark bc he supported Maccies (what did he do fr tho bc i have no clue - did he j eat a McDonalds or what?) And we hate Ash Kabosu for saying it's bad to make fun of those deaths on the submarine...

Controversial opinion but I don't blame Ash allat much??? Now imma explain myself - but pls understand that i don't knoe 100% ab the situation, im v detached from the MCYT sphere of the online community.

But hear me out.

I'm a big believer in cherishing life, life is v important, life is a blessing.... Not from a rly religious pov, moreso in a spiritual way. Because if we only get one life, fuck, it's pretty damn precious. And whilst all those Oceangate memes were haha heehee funny watches, at the end of the day, people did die. And I do find that quite sad.

People say it's fine to laugh and make fun of those who were in there and died bc they were just billionaires who went down there for their own personal entertainment.

Just because they're billionaires doesn't make them any less human than us? Sure, they have a lot more money and are probably a lot more detached from working class issues which the majority of the population faces... But their drowning will have hurt and caused just as much pain to them as it would to us if we were in their situation. And my god, I can't even begin to think about the pain their families must have felt.

Those deaths were a fucking tragedy, realistically - and maybe i'm 'overreacting' here - but c'mon, empathy is literally encoded into our DNA as humans, surely I'm not the only one that can see the heartlessness in just laughing and memeing those deaths?

So Ash Kabosu haterism I don't fully understand, is the conclusion of that sub-rant.

And then I think this is the final little bit I'll discuss considering this is a loooong post:

James Marriott.

Jimbo Mazza, Jimbatron, James Marriott.

Lowkey my big flex, I've been a fan of him since 2020, and I got into his hater-commentary content initially. And ngl, when he transitioned to Minecraft? It was so fkn obvious he was trying to tailor to the MCYT audience to get their approval and entrance into the MCYT community, it made me absolutely cringe - and the blindness of everybody to that fact was insane to me.

Like, he was literally beegggging to be added to SMPs, he'd try and portray this "uncontrollable, quirky" character and would be so "unhinged" that everyone would love him... But ngl, that shit was literal brainrot, and he had you guys (me included tbf, bc i'd watch - just cringing whilst watching) ROTTING your brains with spamming the chat w allat bs that u do on Twitch

Nowadays, I like James tho. I feel like he feels ingrained enough within the community to branch out and not have to play up to the disturbing, disgusting cringefest - and so now he's funnier and having a better time streaming.

I mean, he looks absolutely great too - his tours have him confidence-boosted (rightfully so), because he's in great shape, like, he's genuinely lost noticable fat and put on muscle which has him looking trim as ever - he's grown his hair out into a flattering mullet - Shit, i believe looksmaxxing is the boy-equivalent of the makeup industry profiting off of womens' insecurity....

But the Jimbatron has absolutely looksmaxxed for the best.

That being said however, people saying "I OFFER JIMBO AS A REPLACEMENT FOR WILBUR!!" are fucking weirdos (respectfully but also kinda not)

Bro has just abused people and you're mourning the loss of a content creator and oh no - your favourite band - so you're trying to serve up replacements like a fucking chef that's ran out of a specific ingredient??????????

Yeah, James is less problematic and has 2x the personality Wilbur has- BUT WHY DOES IT TAKE WILBUR COMING OUT AS A FKN ABUSER FOR PPL TO START PROMOTING JAMES????

This is like that whole thing whereby ppl put other girls down to point out to success or beauty of other girls: it takes everyone noticing how bad Wilbur is, to point out the goodness of James.

James litr banned people who wouldn't stfu about Wilbur in his chat in early streams, bc he was sick of ppl following him for Wilbur and who just wanted to talk about Wilbur on James' platform.... I don't think James rly wants to share an identity, or have his platform built from being against Wilbur.

Not proof read this post fully. But take-aways from this: -Yeah Dream is cooking Wilbur on Twitter but don't forget he's an alleged groomer + is deffo using this as a way to get back into the audience's "good books" -RIP Lovejoy but some1 explain what Mark did fully + why ppl think Ash is so abominable for showing empathy to ppl dying -Rmbr that this is acc a serious crime, don't downplay ts -Stop fucking promoting James Marriott thru Wilbur's downfall, it rly discredits James' authenticity and original building of a community -So proud to say that after a few months of getting into MCYT stuff i felt as though Wilbur was icky + just plainout didn't like him/got odd vibes -And lol, acc so jarring how Wil reminds me of this guy in my yr - complete mummy's boy, underestimates and belittles women bc his mum handed everything to him on a plate n so he doesn't empathise w them but rather expects the world from them whilst simultaneously treating them like shit, 'radical', extremely 'woke' about modern situations but is so stubborn and refuses to see two sides of a picture.... Tbh I might j hate the guy in my yr and be projecting that onto Wil

Btw, feel free to argue w me in my inbox ab this but whilst i was quite critical - pls do not be mean to me or criticise me that harshly - if im talking to some1 one on one, i won't be this mean

(ALSO ANON, SORRY BC I WAS QUITE RUDE IN THIS REPLY BC I LOWKEY FORGOT I WAS REPLYING TO U, I WAS IN MY OWN HEAD AB WAFFLING AB SHELBY N WILL, LY AND TY FOR ASKING AB IT THO BC I DEFFO NEEDED TO WAFFLE AB IT SOMEWHERE)

[lazycats-stuff]

can i req a part 3 of lil bat baby and his weapons ): maybe one of the boys gets him small starter blades or smthn or ones w dulled edges

You sure can request! This was fun to write too... And my first post after being on a break so yay! Also, feel free to send requests. Also, it's a bit short, but none the less it's a nice shot. PART 1 and PART 2

Summary: The fam can't watch (Y/N) being sad anymore, so they compromise.

Bruce knew that his son was stubborn, even for such young age, but this has reached new heights. Completely. He refused to talk to anyone besides Alfred. He completely refused to talk and ignored them.

No amount of apologizes, gifts or offers to give him his favorite stuff (that weren't blades or guns) worked. Nothing. Zero. Nada.

Alfred enjoyed it all. He was always an advocate for giving (Y/N) some dulled down blades or even decorative ones. But Bruce didn't think it was a good idea.

How the tables have turned.

" (Y/N), please talk to us. We miss you. " Jason tried this Saturday morning. He just wants his little brother back. His favorite brother too.

(Y/N) turned his head to look at Alfred instead. Jason sighed, ready to pull his hair out. He didn't care what he had to do to get (Y/N) talking again.

" Okay, I can't. " Jason said, taking his cup of coffee and going back to his room. He couldn't do this with his brother.

Bruce took a sip of his own coffee. How stubborn can one person be? Apparently, if you are a little kid, you can go with with it. Damian watched (Y/N), clearly annoyed that he wouldn't talk to him either. He wasn't the one to take his blades. Or guns.

" (Y/N), you can't keep this up forever. " Bruce said, taking a bite out of his toast.

(Y/N) still didn't respond, refusing to communicate. Alfred just smirked, knowing that he was right. Bruce knew how to make things right again, but he didn't want to admit he was right. It wasn't easy to do so.

Especially if you are Batman. Then it's even more difficult. And far more sweet to the person who was right in the first place.

" Master (Y/N), how about you go find a place in the garden where we can have our tea? " Alfred said to the young boy. They had a tradition on the weekends to have some tea (or juice in (Y/N)'s case) and just gossip about the family members. It was fun time with Alfred, as (Y/N) would say.

(Y/N) nodded and happily skipped out of the room and into the garden.

" Master Bruce, I think you know what to do in order to make things right. " Alfred said, giving Bruce a knowing smile.

" Alfred, I can't give him blades. He is too young for them. Damian and Jason know how to take care of them and they understand that blades are some sort of toy, they are dangerous and can really hurt somebody. (Y/N) doesn't understand that. " Bruce explained to Alfred.

" I didn't think of sharp blades master Bruce. "

Bruce tilted his head to look at the butler.

" I thought of dulled down blades. Master Jason and Damian might have a heart attack when they hear it, but it is the best thing for (Y/N). "

Bruce just nodded, thinking it over. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe, just maybe. Now he just needed to tell Jason and Damian.

(Y/N) was walking around the garden with Titus. Just because he wasn't talking with Damian, doesn't mean he can't steal Titus. He walked inside with the Doberman, walking past the living room with his brothers and father and Alfred. Bruce knew what he was going to do and he stood up, grabbing his son up.

(Y/N) screamed a little when he was picked up like a sack of potatoes.

" You aren't going anywhere son. " Bruce said, putting him on his lap as he sat back down on the couch.

(Y/N) crossed his arms, clearly not happy to be here with them.

" We know that you like blades, whoever, you don't understand how dangerous they can be. So, for the time being, " Bruce said, looking at Jason and Damian.

Damian took a little box and handed it to Bruce. (Y/N) raised his eyebrows, clearly suspicious. Bruce opened the box, (Y/N) still on his lap.

(Y/N) smiled so widely at the sight of the blades, all of them smiled slightly. Their brother is back.

" They are dulled, so we don't have to worry about you cutting yourself. Also, " Bruce said, turning one of the blades to give (Y/N) a look. It said: (Y/N)'s blades.

(Y/N) turned around and hugged Bruce. Bruce put the box down next to him to hug him properly. It felt nice to have his son back. (Y/N) moved to his other brothers to give each one of them a hug.

" Now we can have some fun! " Jason exclaimed, pulling (Y/N) into his lap.

Bruce gave Jason a look that could only be translated to really.

" Well, I have to teach how to take care of them. Now, take the box and lets go! " Jason said, laughing at the excitement of his brother.

(Y/N) took the box and waited for Jason to get going.

" Come on little bird. " Jason said, taking (Y/N)'s hand.

" We should have done this sooner. " Tim said, watching the pair go upstairs.

" Maybe we should have. " Damian said, trying not to smile.

Bruce didn't say anything, just nodded his head. Maybe they are right. Just maybe.

" I will check on them. " Bruce said, standing up.

It wasn't really to check. It was to get more hugs from (Y/N). And to make sure that Jason doesn't teach him how to use them. He can just have them, not use them.

[subskz]

i like most to least rankings so i’d like to hear your thoughts on these:

most to least bratty member?

most to least masochistic member?

most to least to enjoy rough bdsm sex over soft sex?

sure! ^_^

bratty:

lino

seungmin (i think he’d be a good boy most of the time, but the reason he’s so high up is bc when he’s bratty, he’s most definitely the most difficult and stubborn of the boys…even worse than lino bc i think he’d be a bit harder to break 😭 he has a lot of patience! but he’s not always confident enough to be a tease w you so i think he’d usually be pretty well behaved, for all his teasing he can still be quite shy after all~)

hyunjin (like seungmo i think he’d be good for you most of the time, but he can also be sooo spoiled n smart mouthed. if he feels like he isn’t getting enough attention or affection he’ll pull out all the stops: mimicking u, teasing u, rolling his eyes, huffing, snide remarks, making a big show of lil things like stretching to expose his skin or licking up food from the corner of his pretty lips so you’ll notice him…luckily he’s very easy to break once he gets that attention hehe he’ll be whining out apologies n begging for mercy in no time)

jisung

jeongin (the perfect equilibrium of sweet eager puppyboy who wants to do well and hear your praises, and fussy, sharp-tongued catboy who’s too shy to admit what he wants <3 i think he’d get bratty as a way to play hard to get bc looking too eager and actually having to admit what he wants makes him super embarrassed…but at the end of the day innie is a bit of a pleaser n he cant mouth off too much without taking it back once he sees ur reaction)

felix

chan (definitely has his moments…but i think when he’s bratty it’s mostly playful teasing that he can’t keep up for too long without breaking into giggles…it’s more endearing than anything else <3 unless he really wants a reaction out of u…we all know channie is good at saying very out of pocket things then backing down immediatey after heh)

binnie (the ULTIMATE good boy!!! very whiny but rarely bratty)

masochistic:

hyunjin

jisung (hannie can be kinda sensitive so he may not be into the degradation/humiliation aspect as much…if ur degrading him you have to be physically treating him gently, and if you’re inflicting pain on him u have to be praising him through it all for taking it so well! or calling him a good slut, pretty whore, stuff like that. he likes it when it’s one or the other, but i think both degradation + rough treatment at the same time would be too much for him)

seungmin (he likes physical aspect of it more than verbal…lest we forget “it’s more fun to get hit than attack” hehe. i think he can handle degradation/humiliating acts sometimes but he does get self-conscious, so getting him to really relax into it might be a challenge. when it comes to pain though…i think he’d like testing his limits. him, lino, n hyunjin seem like the type to smile at you after getting their face slapped 💓)

chan

felix

lino (he’d never admit it but i think he wouldn’t endure pain as well as lix might…even when he holds it in quietly it doesnt take long for him to run out of tolernace and start writhing n squirming around, whining abt how mean you’re being </3 i think he’d like that mix of degradation/praise though…calling him pretty n filthy in the same breath, wrapping your hands around his throat n murmuring abt how well he’s taking you, stuff like that!)

jeongin

binnie (our big boy…he is so bad at handling pain he always thinks he can take it then crumbles after just a few slaps or flogs. and i think his poor leo heart wouldnt always be able to take it if u were too mean to him…if you do degrade him expect a lot of whining and you’d better be ready w lots of praise to make up for it after!! but he is into lighter forms of pain like biting/marking)

rough bdsm (this one varies a lot bc i think it’d really depend on the day and the type of mood they’re in!)

hyunjin

lino (curious kitty #1…he’s softer than u think and some days he would much rather be spoiled rotten!! but he still loves the thrill of rougher scenes and would definitely want to try all kinds of toys and kinks and at least once…he’s very intense n passsionate underneath all that playfulness after all~ it’s important to him to be able to trust u w complete control over his pain n pleasure)

felix (curious kitty #2…i think he’d really like being babied and taken care of but when he wants it rough he wants it rough! he wants to be crying and shaking and covered in marks n bruises by the end of it so he can admire them for days to come afterwards n blush over the memories associated w them <3 smth abt trying to be so good for u even when ur being so mean to him just excited him like nothing else, as long as u scoop him up and treat him so sweetly afterwards 💗)

jisung

chan (as much of a soft sub i see channie as, he’s still more than willing to give anything a try for you <3 i think most of the time what he needs is to just be taken care of so gently n sweetly after a long day, but on certain days he wants nothing more than to forget his own name, surrender every bit of control and make himself useful to you, whatever it might entail he’ll be so good through it all!)

jeongin

seungmin (weirdly enough seungmo is high on the brat/masochist scale but not on the bdsm…but i personally think that while he’d be into harder elements like painplay/breathplay etc. he might be a lil more vanilla when it comes to restraints/toys/extreme kinks etc if that makes sense. i think he’d rather keep things simple without getting a bunch of contraptions involved hehe the most he’d probably be into is a collar or smth along those lines! i think he’d just prefer the intimacy of you n him without making things too complicated)

binnie (clearly my softness for binnie is showing in these answers LMAO sorry but him being so low doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be into it at all! i just think he’d often prefer softer scenes where he gets to obey you without any high stakes or super intense play involved, simply bc he wants to be good for you and get showered w lots of praise n affection in the process! i can definitely see him being very into bondage though, shibari that accentuates his big gorgeous muscles and has him at ur mercy to use him however u see fit!)

[darkeralmond]

UNEXPECTED VISITS

TREVOR ZEGRAS X FEM! OC

october series

synopsis: while hayden’s home alone, trevor decides to stop by and things get a lil… wild?

warnings: semi smut, making out, that kinda stuff

word count: 2.7k

a/n: SUPRISE!! GUESS WHOS GIVING U A CHAPTER EARLY!! anyways the spice is here w/o the ACTUAL smut (but be on the lookout for sure)

In the past year of living with my friends, this was the first time in a while I had the house to myself. It was the one night that Mal, Alex, and Wes all had individual plans and I did not. I watched Trevor’s hockey game last night and he played well, but since there’s no game tonight I had nothing else to do.

I sat in the living room with my songbook and my keyboard. I just hit random keys on the keyboard and prayed that something would come to me. I played a note and sang out, ”I…want you to know.” I couldn’t come up with anything after that, so I just wrote that down in the songbook and resumed. I repeated the same lyric over and over, trying different keys.

My process was interrupted by knocking at the front door. I whipped my head in the direction of the door and noticed that I had completely missed Trevor’s texts from a while ago. “Shit,” I muttered as I grabbed my phone and checked the texts, making my way up to the door.

Trevor had texted me saying he was gonna head over today with some food after practice. I hadn’t realized my notifications were silenced. I opened the front door and there stood Trevor with two paper bags and a bright smile. “I brought food over to help you write!” he exclaimed as he held the two bags up.

I let out a faint giggle before I moved out of the way and let him in. “Thanks,” I said as I shut the door when he entered and followed him into the kitchen. “I didn’t see your texts, my notifications were silent.” It was obvious I hadn’t either. I was wearing my pajamas and my hair was a mess along with the apartment. “Sorry for the mess. I didn’t expect company.”

He placed the bags down on the kitchen island and replied, “Oh, my apartment is much worse. I live with 2 other guys, mind you.” He pulled out a couple of take-out boxes and looked inside one before handing it over to me. “I got you a BLT from Gigi’s down the road.”

I smiled as I took and box and looked at the sandwich. I haven’t had Gigi’s in forever. “Thanks,” I said as I brought my food over to the dining table and sat down. “I thought you would’ve been out partying after your win yesterday.” I then took a bite of my sandwich.

He chuckled, “Nah, we did that yesterday.” He grabbed his own box and brought it over to the table as well, sitting next to me. “I just joined them in going to Gigi’s for a bit, but I got food to go and came over here.”

I nodded my head and hummed. “How did you know which apartment was mine?” I asked him before taking a fry and eating it.

“Mal told me,” he answered before taking a bite of his sandwich. “She said that you were home alone and needed a babysitter.”

I gasped, fake offended but also kind of shocked Mal had texted him that. First off, didn’t know they were in contact, and second, she treated me like a kid just like Alex does. Whatever, this is for another day. I just brushed it off and said, “I appreciate the food. You want anything to drink?”

“Let me see what you guys have,” he answered. I got up from my chair and made my way over to the fridge, Trevor following close behind me. I opened the fridge and looked at the drink options. I could feel his presence from behind me as he peered over my shoulder. I moved out of the way so he could grab whatever he wanted. He then grabbed himself a bottle of Coke before looking up at me. “What do you want?”

He leaned against the fridge with one hand as he looked down at me, an alluring grin on his face. I felt my face flush with heat as I answered, “Uh, I’ll have a Dr. Pepper.” He grabbed the drink for me and held it out, grabbing himself one as well. “Thanks!” I made my way back to the table and sat down.

Trevor chuckled a bit as he sat back down at the table. “You got anything new?” he asked before snagging one of my fries. “Even though I’m not allowed to know.”

“Well, no,” I answered. “I was working on something, but you interrupted me and my writing process!” He gasped, throwing his hand over his heart. I laughed in response and took another fry, taking a bite. “But, I could play something I wrote in high school…”

A smile grew on Trevor’s face as he said, “Yes, please! I want to hear anything!” His desperation made me laugh, I didn’t think it was that serious, but it was to him. We finished eating shortly after that and I grabbed my keyboard and songbook from the living room floor and walked back to my room.

“Follow me,” I said. He threw his trash away and chased after me with his drink. I placed everything on the ground and gestured to Trevor all the songbooks lined up on my bookshelf. “Pick one.” He hummed as he bent down and dragged his finger along the bindings of the songbooks. He snagged one randomly and held it up to me. It was from sophomore year when my parents got divorced.

I knew a lot of the content would be depressing, but I knew there were some songs that were love songs. I flipped through the pages, passing every uninteresting or depressing one until I landed on ’Halley’s Comet’. “Alright, I semi-remember how to play this,” I giggled as I sat down in front of the keyboard. “So bare with me.”

Trevor sat next to me, scooting close to me so there was no space between us. This caused my cheeks to flush a faint red color. I looked down at the keyboard and then up at the journal, seeing what chords I wrote down. I was hesitant to play since I was reading this again after years. I played the beginning of the song, my fingers gaining their muscle memory back for the song. “I don't want it… and I don't want to want you,” I sang, “but in my dreams, I seem to be more honest, and I must admit you’ve been in quite a few.”

I wrote Halley’s Comet when I had first started seeing James, but not dating him, and how I was slowly starting to fall for him harder than I wanted to. The reason I was so stubborn about falling in love was because of my dad and my mom’s divorce and how heartbroken it left her. I wasn’t even aware of the fact I was singing a song I had written for James when I had Trevor next to me, admiring every lyric I sang and every chord I played.

“Halley’s comet,” I sang, “comes around more often than I do… but you’re all it takes for me to break a promise, silly me to fall in love with you.” I felt the smile on my face grow when I glanced over at Trevor, the look of awe on his face was adorable. His eyes were focused on my hands as I played the keyboard and he was slack-jawed. “I was good at feeling nothin’, now I’m hopeless… What a drag to love you like I do.”

My fingers effortlessly played the instrumental break, causing his eyes to go wide. I cracked another small smile and fought back the laugh that hung in my throat. After impressing him with the piano break, I sang the outro of the song, “I’m sitting in my room, haven’t slept in a week or two… I think I might’ve fallen in love.” I looked back up at Trevor, whose glimmering eyes I met. “What am I to do…?” I played the last chord and listened as the newfound silence rang in the air.

Trevor glanced down at the piano and then back up at me. He was speechless, scoffing as he tried to come up with anything to say. “Hayden,” he whispered, “that was beautiful… I want that on the album.” He brought his hand up to my face and caressed my cheek with his thumb. If I wasn’t mistaken, I was falling in love again.

“You do…?” These were the only words that could come from my mouth, as the tension in the air suffocated me. I felt like my life had been going a downward spiral, but how was he able to change that? How was one interview the thing that changed that?

“Yeah,” Trevor husked, “I do, Hay…” His voice trailed, leaving us in the silent tense air once again. There was a flame already ignited, but this… this was the fuel to the fire. I gazed at his eyes before flickering my attention down to his lips. He leaned in, closing the space between us, and gave me a small peck on the lips.

This was his way of testing the waters to see what I would do. Before I knew it, I lost control over my body and impulsively crushed my mouth against his. Trevor’s hands didn’t skip a beat to sink into my hair from the nape of my neck, grasping to it tightly but not to the point of pain. My hand rested on the side of his neck, the other rested on his chest. His hands traveled down to my waist, pulling my body onto his lap.

Trevor pulled away, staring up at me while his chest heaved with his deep breaths. I assumed he was using this as a break to catch his breath like I was using it, but he had other intentions. Before I could say anything about the kiss and how exhilarating it was, he buried his face into the crook of my neck and began nibbling at it. My eyes widened and my face went red.

My mind was so clouded with arousal, that I wasn’t able to pinpoint a single of my thoughts that buzzed throughout my head. The only way I could signal to Trevor that I was enjoying myself was by letting out a quiet moan and gripping his curls. I could feel his body shake as he chuckled. Jackass, I thought. I would’ve had a snarky comment in return if he hadn’t bit the sensitive part of my neck. A whimper escaped my mouth, leaving me shocked that I could even produce a sound like that.

My head spun as my body temperature rose, leaving me scorching hot. My breaths were hitched and heavy, my knuckles growing white with how tight I held onto his hair. “Trevor,” I finally managed to whisper. I could tell there were now dark marks on the right side of my neck that belonged to him.

I shouldn’t have left my door open and I should’ve remembered the type of roommates I had. Though my physical body was there at that moment, my consciousness was on another planet of satisfaction and pleasure. Trevor’s cold hands had slipped under my shirt and his fingers dug into my fiery skin. I was unaware of the fact the front door had opened and someone was approaching my room, and clearly, Trevor was too busy giving me an out-of-world experience to also notice.

“Oh, my god!” Trevor’s head shot up, dragging me back to the real world. His and I’s attention whipped over to my door which Weston was standing in. He had a look of shock and disturbance on his face, but I noticed his face was red and puffy along with his eyes. He had been crying. “I-I’m so sorry!” he apologized before slamming my door shut.

I couldn’t just go back to hooking up with Trevor after that. I was more concerned about why my best friend was crying over the fact he had ruined the mood. “Shit,” I mumbled as I got up from Trevor’s lap, his grasp on my body loosening as I did so. “I-I gotta check on Wes, I’m so sorry. That was amazing and I think the best experience I’ve ever had in my life!”

Trevor nervously chuckled in response and got up. “Yeah, it was. I get it, I’ll head out so you two can talk,” he said as he glanced down at the keyboard. “Alright, yeah.” I walked with him to the front door and he slipped on his shoes. “I really enjoyed spending time with you and I really liked the song.” He had a smile so contagious on his face that I felt one slip onto my own. “I have 2 games out of town this week, the 14th and 15th, but I want to take you out on an actual date when I get back.”

I felt the butterflies multiply in my stomach when he popped the question. He didn’t know how long I was waiting for him to ask me out on an official date. “Yes, of course, I would,” I replied with a wide grin on my face which caused my eyes to slightly squint. Before he left, he gave me a hug and a kiss on my temple.

When the front door shut, I remembered why he left and made my way to Weston’s room. The way our condo was set up, there were two rooms near the front door, mine and Mal’s, then the kitchen between the two rooms in the back, Wes’s and Alex’s. I grabbed a bottle of water for Wes from the fridge and went to his room.

He had the door open while he sat on his bed, sniffling as he wiped some tears from his cheeks. I entered and sat down on the bed next to him, holding out the water to him. He just took it from me and immediately opened it, chugging away. I knew that his throat would be dry from all the crying. I also knew he would just bury under his gray duvet for as long as his body let him, maybe even longer.

“You wanna explain what happened?” I asked him in a soft-spoken voice, placing my hand in his.

He gripped my hand slightly as he looked down at them. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “I ended up going back over to Alejandro’s house to tell him that I’m done with him.” His words were shaky as he tried to explain what was going on.

I grazed my thumb over his hand to soothe him down as he continued explaining, “But when I went over there, I saw another car in the driveway… It was Valarie’s.” My gut twisted at the realization of where the story was going. “When I went up to the door and knocked on it, Alejandro answered shirtless and was all upset with me coming to his house instead of just texting him. Then Valarie came around the corner wearing one of his shirts.”

His voice cracked as he took a break from talking. He let out a shaky breath and pressed the back of his other hand against his mouth, his eyes were glossy as he did his best to hold back his returning tears, but inevitably lost that battle. He choked out, “That’s when I found out Valarie was the one who Alejandro left me for.

Even though I knew it was going there, it still surprised me. My words spewed out like venom as I said, “She’s such a bitch.” Wes nodded his head as he shook with silent cries. He rested his head on my shoulder and sighed. I let go of his hand and placed it on his cheek, letting out a faint sigh as well.

He broke up his cries by wheezing out, “I’m 19. Where’s this teenage dream everyone’s been fucking telling me about.”

[arminsumi]

hm.. shy vampire armin who’s scared to admit that he’s a vampire to you. when he finally does, you obviously have millions of questions! one of them being about sucking blood 👀 - let’s just say he’s not so shy after he gets a taste of your sweet blood

IM SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO MAKE IT LONG SISBIWS IM SORRY JAYYY

DRINK ME

↳ ARMIN アルミン + fem!reader

Note : V-VAMPIRE ARMIN?! you needn't apologize when u have blessed my inbox with vampmin 🧛‍♂️❤️ i used to be obsessed w the idea of vampire armin n even made a vampy ver. of him and me in the sims lol it was a whole jay era no one saw. anyways i think i deviated a bit pls forgive i was in a vampy daze 😵‍💫 and p.s. the length of ur req is all good!! no worries 👍

Warnings : vampirism, 🔞 suggestive/smutty content : mdni/mdnr, blood, blood drinking, possessiveness, marking, biting, it's a lil goofy i'm ngl

🍒 More from Jay : Armin works

He bows his head in shame, avoiding your gaze after telling you the truth one night, while the two of you were cooped up in your dorm rooms like two very normal students. Er... well, one normal student now.

"Min... that's..." you begin, too surprised for words.

"... I'm so sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I just couldn't bear lying to you anymore. Do you... hate me for it?" he asks sheepishly.

"Not at all. I'm just surprised... kinda into it..."

"WHAT." he widens his eyes.

"Nothing." you backtrack, giggling nervously. "I didn't say that. You didn't hear that."

"Nahhh..." he looks at you with an intense gaze. "You definitely just said that... what, do you, like... have a kink for vampirism?" he jokes but your sheepish smile tells him he's right.

His heart pangs.

"Wow... that's freaky." he giggles.

Ooh... his fangy teeth are so subtle, so cute. Lil' chompers craving nothing more than to sink into your warm flesh.

"Sorry..."

"... don't be." he creeps closer to you. "It's cute... but... don't tempt me. Or I'll bite you. Joking... of course."

"Min... I'd let you bite me."

"What... 😳"

"... not to turn me! Just... for a snack."

"... a snack...? Angel, I can barely control myself when you have a tiny cut on your finger, I think I'd lose it if you let me suck your blood. It would be too sweet..."

He'd get a sugar rush, for sure, from gulping down your saccharine blood.

"I wouldn't mind. I lov— I uh... I'll offer it to you anyways. Um... incase you ever want to."

Well now he's looking desirously at your neck, struggling to maintain eye contact. He was so taken aback by you forwardly permitting him to take a sip of you.

He stares at you silently for a moment.

"Uh... would it hurt...?" you ask.

He drops his tone into a serious, concerned voice.

"Yeah... it would hurt quite a bit..." he informs you, "And it takes a while for the mark to heal... but if you're o-okay with... me having just a taste..."

"I am..." you say, "Mmm... weird question, but is it possible for you to drink all my blood in one go?" you suddenly ask, curious.

He chuckles a little, "Um, considering there's like... about five liters of blood in your body... no, I couldn't drink it all in one go." he lightens the darkening atmosphere with a joke, "It'd give me a major tummy ache."

"So... how much would you drink from me right now, to replenish yourself?" you inquire further, pawing closer to him.

He gulps, enticed by your scent.

"Probably a glass' worth...? That's typical." he looks away, too shy to say more. The thought of drinking a glass of your blood felt like asking for too much. "More than a glass would just be greedy..."

"Would it get messy and ugly?"

"Nah... I pride myself on being a clean eater." he winks, endeared by your giggly reactions to his subtle flirting.

It's bizarre to Armin; he expected you to be repulsed by his vampirism. But you're not. You're still flirting as hard as you did before he told you tonight.

"Armin... drink from me." you say seriously, seeing how he was holding his hands behind his back so tight when really he just needed to give into his raw desire.

"Uh—" he gulps as if his mouth is watering, "Are you sure you know what you're offering me?"

"Yes." you say more serious than ever. "Drink me."

Did you intend for that last part to sound so seductive? He can't tell.

He looks at you with eyes blown open, and bats his lashes in disbelief.

Then a a few moments later... he's pinning you to the bed and slotting his slender leg between your thighs.

His lips graze your neck, he kisses it... licks it... takes his time with it. You ask a bit more, breath staggering at his feverish licking.

"Do you always lick this much?"

"Mhm..."

"Why?"

"It's um... like a taste test..."

You feel your cheeks and chest warm up. "Oh... I see."

It's a minute later and he's sloppily making out with the area he intends to bite and drink from, while you happily allow him and run your fingers through his tawny blond hair.

"A–angel... your neck is so..." he swallows his drool, "so pretty... I'll be as gentle as p-possible... promise..."

"You don't have to be..."

"... really?" he asks breathlessly.

"Mhm."

He anyways encourages you to hold his hand and squeeze it if it's too much pain. "I'll stop if you tell me to... I have good discipline, I swear."

When his fangs fully come out, he slowly grazes their sharp point across your skin and gives testing pokes across the sweet curve of your neck. He exposes your neck more, pinning your shoulder with his hand.

One small gasp escapes you as he sinks just a tiny bit of his fangs in. He's trying his best to make it a smooth and clean incision. He's good and disciplined, he reminds himself, he can't just tear into you like you're nothing but a blood filled sac.

"Ah...!" you hiss in pain. It hurts way more than you anticipated, two sharp fangs pricking into your skin.

The way he sucks your blood out feels... sensual. Romantic. Like it's intimate... because it is. How many vampires does he know of that suck necks? It's the most erotic place to suck. It's an unspoken rule in his world to avoid the neck... because it's such an erogenous zone. Usually only lovers poke their fangs there...

Simply said? Armin sucked blood from your neck just to slyly turn you on. Because he had the hots for you. The cute human who wormed into his sexual fantasies.

"Mmm!" you squeal softly for him.

"Mmm..." he groans back, sinking his fangs as deep as they can go, spiraling into pleasure as his lips press flesh against your skin and squish flat.

"Min..." you moan, and now he knows he's got you.

Some blood dribbles down your chest and forms rivulets down his chin. He pulls his fangs out and licks at the wound lustfully, eyes lidded and breath heavy.

"F-fuck..." he curses, feeling himself getting a bit too excited after that intimate moment.

He's quietly patting himself on the back for not losing control even though the taste of your blood made him dizzy.

He inhales deeply to stabilize himself. Then he checks on you, caring eyes peering into your soul.

"Are you okay?" he asks, voice deep and low.

"Y-yeah..." you nod.

"It stings a bit, right?" he asks with a slight glint of sadism in his eyes.

You nod, "Not too much..."

He smiles at you, fangs cutely poking udner his upper lip and peaking out a bit.

"Good... don't wanna hurt my sweet Y/n."

Oops... did he just get a little possessive? Mhm yeah he did. And you don't realize it, but he made sure is fangs sunk deep enough to leave a longlasting territorial mark... he had to let the world know you were claimed as his little human possession.

"Min... you okay? You zoned out." you laugh.

An hour has passed. He cleaned up all the blood and now laid snuggling with you in bed. For the first time, he was spooning you; a small show of dominance that he never showed before biting you up.

"Yeah... just a bit dazed."

"In a bad way?" you ask.

"No. I just get dazed after drinking sweet wine." he says.

"Hm...? Is that so? Dazed and dizzy 'cause of me?"

He smirked, eyes admiring your bite marks in the dim moonlight. He thumbs the skin around them.

"Yeah... dazed and dizzy for you..." he says slowly, voice washed with drowsiness.

He clutches you tight and sleeps.

© arminsumi

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

[pedroshotwifey]

Favorite Bounty Chapter 3

Series masterlist

Pairing: Din Djarin x afab reader

Chapter W/C: 9k

Chapter tags/warnings: SMUT!! (Ik, finally), vaginal fingering, blowjobs, oral sex, female masturbation, lil bit of angst, no use of y/n, reader being a horny cuss, getting caught, canon-typical violence, I'm probably forgetting stuff but let's just say im not, PLEASE READ AUTHOR'S NOTE UNDER THE CUT

Chapter summary: You and Mando get to know each other a bit more...intimately. Despite your frustrations, you learn that you really can't resist the man.

A/N: Hey, I'm going to go ahead and put it out there that these first few chapters will not be the best. Favorite Bounty was the first thing I ever wrote, so please keep that in mind. I have gone through and edited the small things so there is a bit of improvement from when it was originally posted to ao3. After chapter 4 is out, every chapter after that will be brand new and will have better grammar/writing. Thanks for reading! :)

***

You wake up stiff as a rock.

When you open your eyes, you don't recognize your surroundings through the grogginess of sleep. You only panic for a second though, before you remember where you are. 

Memories of last night begin to flood your head and you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you remember why you probably feel so stiff. You had slept on top of Mando the entire night.

You have to stop the gasp that threatens to escape when your eyes come into focus and you realize that you are still in the same spot as you had fallen asleep in. You feel the cool metal of Mando’s breastplate biting into your cheek. 

You are laying sprawled out on top of the Mandalorian. Your hands are resting flat on his chest on either side of your head and your legs are almost straddling his torso under the blanket. 

You feel one of his hands resting gently on your back, his thumb absentmindedly stroking circles over your shirt. His other arm lays beneath his head, acting as a makeshift pillow. 

Your mind is screaming at you to jump up and get yourself away from the Mandalorian, but your body isn’t listening. You feel your muscles loosen as your eyes slowly flutter shut. Part of you wants to just pretend that you’re still asleep. Maybe if he thinks that you aren't aware of his subtle affection, he will hold and soothe you longer. 

You have a suspicion that he wouldn't want you to be aware of the gentle intimacy of the entire situation. He might have been okay with it last night, but for some reason, you know he wouldn't want to have so many emotions on display for you. 

To be honest, you think that Mando may be a little touch starved. The thought almost makes you giggle, and you have to catch yourself so as not to disturb your current position

You try to focus on the lazy circles Mando’s thumb is continuing to make to distract yourself from smiling. You can't seem to remember the last time you felt this safe and content. Kriff–maybe you were touch starved too.

It's surprisingly comfortable to lay on the heap of beskar, but you figure that feeling may come from the fact that it is Mando that you are on top of. It literally feels like one of your fantasies has come to life, and there is no way you are going to end it sooner than you need to. You would lay here forever if you had the option. 

You have no idea if he is still asleep or not, though if you had to guess it would be the latter. You figure you should savor the comforting feeling before he inevitably separates from you and resorts back to his old cranky self. Letting out a small sigh, you nuzzle your head onto his chest and allow yourself to let go of any worries for the time being.

Without opening your eyes, your brows furrow when you feel Mandos' thumb abruptly stop the soft motions on your back.

“Cyar’ika?”

If the sudden sound of the Mandalorian’s voice just barely crackling through the modulator hadn’t sounded so soothing, the intrusion would have made you jump. You worried that if you opened your eyes again, Mando would be gone and you would be laying alone in your cot, waking up from a dream. 

You wouldn't be able to stand it if all of this was just a figment of your imagination, so just in case, you kept your eyes tightly shut as you responded.

“Mhm?”

It wasn’t much of a response, but it was a response nonetheless. You shift your hands to fold under your chin so you can prop yourself up and off of the cold feel of beskar. When Mando stays silent, you risk slowly opening your eyes to peer up at him.

You sigh with contentment when you meet his gaze. You can't help but flash him a small smile as you make what you hope is eye contact. Seeing your admiration, Mando lifts his hand up from your back to rest it softly on your head, cradling you closer to him. 

You let your eyes droop slightly as he begins to stroke your hair. The intimacy of the whole situation is overwhelming enough to bring you to tears, but you hold them back and savor the moment instead. It's nice to know that he apparently doesn't mind you seeing his affections.

“Sleep well?” he asks you. You shiver at the sound of his voice. It's the same baritone as usual, but laced with traces of sleep. He sounds as at ease as you feel, and you love that he knows he can let his guard down around you. 

As you open your mouth to respond, you feel the ship lurch. Before you even realize what is going on, Mando has lifted you up by your arms and plopped you back down in the mess of blankets beneath you. 

As you try to reorient yourself, the ship moves again, almost as if something was pushing hard on the side of it. You look up to Mando, eyes wide with alarm and confusion. He is already running towards the ladder of the cockpit, presumably to check what's going on outside. 

You are standing by the time he jumps back down into the hull. 

“Damn pirates,” he answers your question before you have a chance to voice it. “Grab the kid and get into my bunk,” he instructs you. “The heat killed the rest of our fuel. We’re stuck on the surface until we get more.”

You gape at him as he struts to the gun locker and pulls out two blasters and a rifle. You can see the unmistakable tension in his stride as he rushes past where you are still glued to the floor. 

He starts to reach for the button so he can lower the ramp before he notices that you still haven’t moved. “Grab the kid and get in the damn bunk!” he barks at you.

The command sends you into motion and you fly to the back of the hull to retrieve the child from his closed hover pram. He was still sleeping and he startled when you snatched him up - you winced and made a mental note to apologize later. 

You make record time crossing back to hit a button with your open palm and clamber into Mando’s bunk. As you start to turn around so you could close the bunk door, you see the ramp of the ship slam down, letting a rush of cold wind blow inside. 

The pirates had blasted it open and caught Mando off guard. As he realized what happened, he swiveled around to face your direction before pulling the trigger on his blaster. You felt your mouth go dry at the image of the Mandalorian pointing a blaster your way, you are still too blissed out from this morning to understand exactly what he was doing. Your eyes screwed shut involuntarily as he pulled the trigger. 

When you opened them, you were in the dark. You quickly realized that he had shot the control panel to the bunk door, ensuring your safety if the pirates tried to open it. 

Honestly, he hadn’t even realized what he was doing until he had pulled the trigger. Mando knew that in reality, it probably wasn’t the best course of action, but what's done is done, no sense in overthinking it now. 

The pirates wouldn't be able to reach you and the kid if they discovered that you had been on the ship with him, and that's all that matters to him at the moment. With a quick shake of his head, he turns back to the now-open ramp and raises his blaster.

***

The sounds coming from the other side of the bunk door are muffled, but you can still hear the absurd amount of blaster fire ripping through the air. You stifle a gasp and hold on tight to the kid. 

Everything had happened too quickly for you to process it, one second you were laying in ecstasy on Mando’s chest, and the next you were stuffed into a dark room with only the kid to keep you company. 

You know that you need to remain calm in order to think straight, but there was nothing you could do about the panic building up inside of you. You didn't get to see how many pirates were huddled outside the ship, but judging by the number of shots you can hear now, it must be a lot. 

The kid shifts in your lap and you look down at him. You flinch as you hear a shot ring out close to the bunk and he jumps at your reaction. 

The reality of your situation is really starting to sink in, and you are now focusing on trying not to have a full blown panic attack in front of the kid. You never were the best at keeping your composure in scary situations, but you know you can tough through it for the sake of the little womp rat nestled in your lap. 

“Shh it’s going to be okay honey,” you tell the child as you gulp down your anxiety and squeeze him tighter to your chest. “Your daddy is going to handle it and we’re all going to be okay.”

You wish you could convince yourself of the words that come out of your own mouth. You try to stop the tears that threaten to fall as you move your hands to cover the kids ears. You know you can’t do anything else but wait right now. 

****

Din has two of the pirates down before they even realize what hit them. As he jumps down onto the surface, he scans the remaining pirates scrambling around. He counts six, maybe seven, before he lands.

It will be a challenge, but Mando knows that he is perfectly capable of taking the squad down in a reasonable amount of time. He makes sure to position himself in front of the opening of the Crest so that none of the gang members can slip past him and possibly discover what he has hidden on board. 

He sends a silent prayer to whoever is listening that the door to his bunk stays in place while he has his pack to it. He knows he would not be able to know if you and the child were revealed until the pirates tried to get past him, and by then it would be a struggle to get all of them down before one was able to get to you.

He grits his teeth at the thought but turns his attention to the criminals beginning to surround him. He raises his arm and shoots the one closest to his left, causing the one on his right to lunge at him.

He has that one down just as quickly as he had the one before him. He can see clearly now that there are only four members left, it shouldn’t take too much longer to have this thing over with. 

****

You figure it's only been about five minutes since the door had shut into the black pit of Mando’s quarters. Your heart rate has started to slow a bit and you are able to make out the outline of your hand when you hold it up in front of your face. 

There is a little less commotion from outside than before, but it's still enough for you to worry about the numbers Mando may be facing right now. You think back to earlier when you were curled up on top of him. 

To be honest, you are still confused about the sudden outburst of affection from the Mandalorian. You just hope it wasn’t pity. As much as it would make sense to think of it that way, the ordeal didn’t seem very one-sided. 

The way Mando had held you was warm but possessive, as if he was scared to let you go. The memory sends a shiver through your spine. You wish he was here comforting you now. You close your eyes and imagine being back in his arms with the kid in your lap. 

Why hadn’t he said anything before? You know that he had to have seen your slip-ups, and as much as you hated that idea, you also know that it means he would have known how you felt. 

Before you can come to a conclusion, you are pulled from your thoughts when light suddenly floods into the bunk. Your eyes snap open as you realize what happened and you make immediate eye contact with an unfamiliar face.

****

A sudden surge of panic shoots through Din’s veins as he swivels around trying to count the remaining gang members. He just downed two more of the four that had been left, but there was only one more crook in sight. 

He doesn't have much time to look around because the one still in view is dangerously close now. He let his guard down for too long, letting the thug get the advantage by closing in on Mando from the side. 

He sees the pirate lunging for him in his peripheral vision and fumbles with his blaster, startled by the unexpected movement. As he tries to get into position, the pistol slips from his grasp and falls into the snow with a heavy thud. 

He knows he doesn’t have time to bend down and pick it up before the pirate would be around his neck, so, trying not to panic, he rethinks his strategy. The Mandalorian curses himself internally for his mistake but quickly makes up for it by spinning on his heels to box the gang member in between his body and the side of his ship with his arms on either side of the crook. 

Before the pirate can understand what's happening, Mando brings his head down hard on top of the ugly stranger’s. With a deafening crack, the now unconscious pirate slumps down into the snow next to Mando’s discarded pistol. 

Now that the primary threat is disposed of, Din shakes off the ringing in his head and scoops his weapon up. As soon as he is steady on his feet, he hears a scream coming from inside of the ship. 

****

As you lay eyes on the pirate, neither of you move. 

A million thoughts run through your mind, telling you to run or push the pirate away from you, but your body doesn't seem to listen. You open your mouth to yell for Mando and feel your eyes grow wide in hopeless panic when no sound escapes. Only when you feel the kid struggle in your hold do you feel the vibrations climbing up your throat.

The next few moments happen in a blur. Before you can even blink, you see the flash of beskar coming up behind the pirate, who has now begun to move his arm towards you. Trying to come to your senses, you dodge to the side to miss the intruder's hand as he tries to grab your neck. You tuck the kid underneath your bunched up form and close your eyes, bracing yourself for the blows that are sure to come. 

As you settle fully into your protective stance, you hear a loud crack from outside the bunk. Your body jolts at the sound, but your mind immediately relaxes at the sound. You know what it means. You know the sound a skull makes as it collides with beskar. 

Slowly, you open your eyes and glance outside the bunk. Mando is standing there, unmoving. When you see the unconscious body on the floor in front of him, confirming what you already knew, you loosen your grip on the kid and sit up. 

The Mandalorian can see the tears brimming your eyes as he finally moves towards you, wrapping his strong arms around you and the child in your own. 

As he pulls you to him, you let out a shuddering breath and release the tears from your eyes. You run your hand over the kid's head, calming him down as much as you can. Though he didn't seem too concerned throughout the whole ordeal.

The three of you stay huddled up together for a moment before Mando pulls back. He turns around and nudges the body at his feet to the side, making room for you to step down from the cot.

He holds a hand out for you to take and eases you onto the floor. You give him an appreciative look as you find your balance. As soon as you are on your feet, Mando snatches his hand back as though he had been burned, like he suddenly remembered that you were capable of such a thing. 

Before you can open your mouth to question him, Mando has already bent down and thrown the body over his shoulder. Without another word, he turns around and walks to the open ramp of the ship to dispose of the pirate. 

Your brows furrow. What has him in such a hurry? You wonder quietly to yourself. Did you do something wrong? When he comes back, your feet are still rooted to the spot he left you. You open your mouth to say something but decide against it as he continues to seemingly ignore you. 

The kid has fallen asleep in your arms, which you find are littered with little blood spots, and after Mando makes it clear that he's not going to say anything, you turn on your heel to take him to his pram. 

“I'm going to put the kid down and get in the fresher,” you mumble over your shoulder, breaking the silence. You see him nod out of the corner of your eye and resume your task. You try not to let it bother you, but you feel your stomach drop at his changed demeanor. 

Not thirty minutes ago, he had gathered you into his arms, and now he’s treating you like a total stranger. Tears brim your eyes once again as you realize that maybe you had read too much into it. 

You try to resonate with yourself as you tuck the kid into the blankets in his pram. Maybe he was just shaken by the whole situation. Kriff, you know you should be a lot more concerned than you are. A few weeks ago, you would have been shaking in your boots. 

You’re not sure what changed, but you figure it has something to do with your trust in Mando’s abilities. You know that no harm would ever come to anyone he didn’t want it to, and so far, you have given him no reason to dislike you—you don’t think so at least. 

You try to shake the thoughts from your head as you close the child’s hover pram and make your way back to the main hull. You can hear the Mandalorian continuing to dispose of gruesome evidence before you lay eyes on him. 

He appears to have cleared an area around his messy bunk, and is now wiping the frame around it down with a wet cloth. You stand in the entrance, debating on whether or not to ask him if he wants help, but you decide against it when he looks up at you.

He holds eye contact just long enough for you to start squirming before he turns his helmet back to the task at hand. Your cheeks blush a furious color and you turn before he can get the chance to see your embarrassment. 

His nonchalant treatment hurts. You scold yourself for thinking that way, it's not like anything has changed just because he held you for five seconds. He was vulnerable and probably not thinking last night, it would be unfair of you to assume that anything is supposed to be different now. 

You brush your unshed tears away as you close the door to the fresher. Maybe you’ll feel better after a soothing shower. You turn the knob on the fresher all the way up and begin to strip out of your clothes. Once you’re done, you stick a hand into the stream to feel the temperature, stepping in once you are satisfied with the warmth.

The relief is instant as the water hits your back. You sigh as you feel yourself melt into the stream. You stare at the water swirling down the drain and try to focus your mind on anything but Mando. 

He seems to be controlling every aspect of your life at this point, not just your actions and emotions, but your thoughts as well. Come to think of it, you can't seem to recall the last thing you thought of or did that didn't have something to do with the man. 

You bring your hand up to let it run over your face, ignoring the water dripping off as you reach your chin. You are just now seeming to realize how exhausted you are. You open your eyes wide, trying to fight off the sleep threatening to take over them. 

To be honest, you’re not sure if the sudden change stems from the loss of adrenaline, the fact that you are still trying to wake up in the first place, or because of the constant facade you have managed to put on since joining Mando on the Crest. 

Whatever it is though, you just want to give in and fall asleep where you stand. If you’re asleep, you won’t have to put so much effort into walking on eggshells around Mando, and you won’t have to dwell on things that apparently don’t even matter. 

You decide that sleep sounds like the best plan you can make right now. After you finish washing up, you are going straight to your cot. 

You hear a heavy knock on the door as you reach for the shampoo and you have to try not to slip after the sound makes you jump. You must have been too tired to hear the tell-tale thump of Mando’s boots as he approached the door. 

You huff out a breath, trying to stop the irrational anger that threatens to take over from the scare. As you reach a hand out again, this time to steady yourself against the wall, he knocks again. Impatient bastard. 

“What is it Mando?” you ask in a tone a bit harsher than intended. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks at how childish you probably seem to him right now. Clinging all over him and then getting mad because he isn’t paying you the attention you thought he would. 

You hear him sigh behind the door before answering. “There’s a town not too far from here,” he cuts right to the chase. “I’m going to go and try to find some means of fuel.” His tone is still nonchalant, but you do better with brushing it off this time, your anger making it easier. 

“Okay,” you tell him, doing your best to sound just as uninterested as he did. He says nothing else, but you can hear him shuffling around outside the door almost as if he were hesitating. You roll your eyes, wishing he would go ahead and leave already. 

“Okay, I-...” he trails off mid-sentence with a frustrated sigh.  What else does he want? You begin to scrub shampoo into your hair as you wait for him to finish whatever it is he wants to say. You almost forget he is still standing there by the time he talks again. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he says. You can hear him walking off before you even get the chance to banter back. You give your head a shake and scrunch your face up. What the fuck? 

Whatever. As you step out of the fresher, towel in hand, you decide you’re not going to deal with his bantha-shit right now. If he wants to have an attitude, so let him. 

After you peek your head out the door to make sure Mando already left, you secure the towel around your body and pad over to your “quarters”. Despite the intrusion this morning, it’s still pretty warm in the crest so you pick out a satin sleep tank top and a matching pair of shorts. After pulling them on and checking to make sure the kid is still sound asleep in his pram, you lay down on your blankets. 

You realize relatively quickly that your master plan isn’t going to work. As much as you try to push every thought from your head, you find yourself staring at the ceiling with some taunting memory or thought playing on repeat. 

You huff in annoyance as you lift yourself from your cot, suddenly wide awake. How convenient. You walk around in the hull, looking for something to distract yourself for the time being. When you turn around to make a third circle, your gaze lands on the unfinished cloak you were making for the kid.

You sit back down and immediately get to work with the needle. You are already about halfway done so it shouldn’t take long, but you’ll take the welcomed distraction nonetheless. 

****

You end up finishing the project much quicker than you had anticipated. After hemming the edges–and stabbing yourself with the needle about ten times–you are able to call it done. It's not perfect, but you are proud of the results. You want to have the kid try it on right away so you can make any adjustments necessary but find him still softly snoring in his blankets. Great. 

You roll your eyes. There really is nothing to do on this maker-damned ship right now. It’s just been cleaned, you’ve already showered, and you had a snack while you worked on the child’s cloak. 

You curse yourself for being so awake as you rack your brain, trying to think of something–anything–to do. As per usual, you come up with nothing. Well… almost nothing… 

You sit down on your blankets and shiver as you let your hand wander to your chest. You inhale sharply as the pad of your finger grazes over your stiffening nipple. You know it's not a good idea, but just the idea of getting yourself off in Mando’s ship is enough to feel the arousal taking root deep inside of you. 

You feel your eyes flutter shut as you bring your other hand up to cup your neglected breast. You decide you’ll just be quick, you are way too pent up not to continue at this point. You can feel the frustration embedded deep in every pore of your body. Every muscle tense and every hair standing on end from the pure agitation flowing through your veins. 

You let a hand travel south as you make the realization that you need this. Mando shouldn’t be back for another hour or so, you have plenty of time to do what you need to do before he gets back. It’ll be fine. 

Eyes still shut, you snake a hand down the front of your shorts to swipe a finger over the thin cotton fabric of your panties, feeling the wetness that's collected there. 

“Oh, fuck,” you shudder at the contact you’ve been missing for so long. You bring your hand back up and push your shorts all the way down your legs, discarding them with a light kick when they reach your ankles. 

With that out of the way, you get your hands back to work, bringing them back to their earlier positions. You tweak your nipple as you let your hand roam into your panties, circling a finger around your clit just light enough to be a tease. 

As you begin to apply more pressure, an image of the Mandalorian forces itself into your mind. The memory of him sitting in the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, legs spread wide open, presenting a large bulge in his pants. 

You hiss as you let a finger dip into your wetness before dragging it back up to your clit. You can’t help but imagine that it's really Mando sitting in front of you, rubbing your sensitive bud and bringing you pleasure. You wonder if he would be quiet as usual, or if he would be vocal, finally able to express his thoughts and feelings after being so quiet underneath his helm.

Maybe he would praise you as he worked you through your orgasm, telling you you’re a good girl, letting you know how good you feel as he works a finger into you. You whimper at the thought and start making faster, tighter circles on your clit. 

“F-Fuck, Mando!” you shock yourself as you call out his name, but you find yourself too close to the edge to care right now. You’re almost there, you can feel the coil in your belly getting ready to snap. One more pinch on your nipple or flick of your finger and you’ll be tumbling over. 

Your movements are sloppy as you focus on your end goal, one last touch and-

“Having fun?”

Fuck. Your movements stop abruptly as you hear the familiar modulated voice sounding from above you, but not before you feel yourself tip over the edge. Your entire body shakes and you keep your eyes locked shut out of embarrassment. 

“Ah, f-fuck!” you practically scream as you continue to convulse involuntarily. You absolutely hate how much it fuels the fire to know you’ve been caught by the same man you were fantasizing about just moments ago. 

Even after you come down from your high, you refuse to open your eyes. As flushed as you know your body is right now, you feel an impossible heat flood through you, turning you an even brighter shade of red. As you lay there in shame, you think that you have never been more humiliated in your entire life.

You stay put for what feels like an eternity before you finally find the courage to crack your eyes open. You realize quickly that you can't see much else than the Mandalorian’s intimidating form looming over your quivering form. Nowhere for you to look but at him.

“Well?” his tone is not mocking, but you’re not dumb enough to think that it’s not genuine curiosity that has him repeating himself. Your eyes fill with tears as you attempt to meet his gaze, only to shy away again when you feel the weight of his heavy stare. 

You open your mouth to say something but find that the most you can muster is a small squeak. A tear trickles down your cheek and into your hairline as you watch Mando cock his head to the side, a silent tell that he is not going to give up until he gets an answer. 

The asshole knows what he's doing, he knows that you want this, that you are embarrassed, that you are aroused because of it, and that you are dying for him to touch you already. Even so, he looks into your eyes for permission, which you grant with a slight nod, as he brings a hand up to rest on your bent knee. 

Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to draw slow circles with his thumb over your bare skin, only to jolt back open when he speaks for the again. 

“Nuh-uh, sweet thing,” he starts, bringing his other hand up to grab your chin between two fingers. “I asked you a question.”

You gulp as you feel your eyes widen at his boldness. The grip he has on your chin isn’t too tight, but it’s enough to both intimidate you and have you biting down on your bottom lip to stifle a moan. He sees your internal struggle and chuckles darkly, causing you to shudder as he tilts your face up to meet his helmet. 

“Answer me cyar’ika,” he tells you and you know by the way he gives your chin a light squeeze that this is the last warning you would be getting before he decided to either lunge for you or stop his actions completely.

“I was,” you mumble, barely coherent to him. 

“What was that?” he asks, leaning in so that your nose almost bumps into his helmet. “I didn’t quite hear you.”  He brings himself over you even more so that he can slot his head next to yours as if he were going to whisper something into your ear. 

The weight of his body is surprisingly comforting and it brings you a newfound sense of comfort. You take a deep breath and turn your head so that your lips are brushing against the side of his own, right where his ear would be. 

“I was, Mando,” you say, louder this time. “Until someone had to interrupt me and ruin my fun.”

Mando stills at your accusatory tone and it almost scares you how quickly he jolts back up to a standing position. 

“Well,” he retorts, “Maybe someone should have picked some place other than the floor of my ship to indulge in their pleasurable desires. Your face flushes a bright shade of red at his response, and you find yourself curling up to make yourself a little smaller. 

Once back completely on his feet, Mando straightens out and tilts his helmet up to gaze down at you. “If you wanted some help, sweet thing,” he says, “you could have just asked.”

Your eyes widen once again at the sight of the imposing man pinning you under his gaze. You want to pinch your arm so you can try to convince yourself that this is even real in the first place. Never in your life would you ever have imagined yourself to be in this situation–dreamed of it,  sure–but never actually thought it would come true. 

“Are you still offering?”

His head jerks back down at your words and his hands fly to your body quicker than you can blink. One of them flying to your breast and another landing on your stomach. You are back helmet-to-face once again as he begins to trail the hand on your stomach downward towards the band of your now-soaked panties. 

You close your eyes in anticipation as his fingers drag lightly across your skin, sending a shiver up your spine. His fingers groping your breast tweak your nipple, making you cry out as you feel the cot dip with the weight of his knee coming up to settle between your legs. 

“I suppose I could be persuaded,” he says in a low voice that makes you shudder. “What's in it for me?” You know that he only says the last part for show, but for some reason the sentence sends a fresh wave of arousal through you. 

You think that this must be Mando’s idea of roleplay. It fits perfectly for a bounty hunter; he has something to hold against you, you need help that only he can provide you with, he will grant your wishes if he can find a mutual benefit. 

He pinches your nipple once again when you remain silent–you seem to be at a loss for words more frequently than usual. 

“I-” you start to talk but stop when the embarrassment of what you are about to say catches up. You dart your tongue out to wet your lip before continuing. “I can make you feel good, Mando,” you say, looking right up into his gaze with your best doe-eyes. He curses under his breath when he feels his cock twitch at the sight unfolding beneath him. 

He knows he won't be able to keep up this facade he’s put on to try to gain the upper hand. You are his weakness, and he knows that you know it–subconsciously or not. He bites his tongue and  pretends to think about your offer before giving his feedback. 

“Sounds fair to me.” You can hear the lust thick in his voice, and if that wasn’t enough to make you moan in itself, the finger that suddenly dips farther into your panties to tease your clit certainly did it. Mando has to suppress a groan at the way your body responds to him at the slightest movement. 

Upon hearing your mewls and cries, he feels his canvas pants grow unbearably tighter. In this moment, he would give anything just to be able to lay by your side and hear you make those sweet sounds for however long he pleases. 

He uses the pad of his pointer finger to start rubbing slow, barely there circles over your clit, smirking under his helmet when he feels you buck up into him in search of more pressure. 

“You sure you want this, cyar’ika?” he asks. Even though you are caged beneath him, willingly handing your body over, he still wants to make sure you aren’t going to regret this. Mando often finds that his mind revolves around doubt.  Whether it has to do with a bounty, the kid, or you, he always feels like he is going to do the wrong thing. 

What if you get your release and then decide that all of this was just a mistake? What if you decide you want to leave the Crest, want to leave him? He is well aware that he doesn’t treat you the way you deserve to be most of the time, so why would you want to stay in the first place? 

Mando tells himself that he is distancing himself in order to protect you, but he knows deep inside that he is a selfish man, that he keeps you at arm's length to protect himself. If he has nobody to protect, nobody to care about, he has nothing to lose. He is safe, he is fearless. 

He is brought out of his spiraling thoughts when you speak from beneath him, your sweet voice taking hold of his hand and pulling him out of the deep hole he keeps digging himself into. 

“Mando,” you start, bringing a hand up to rest on the side of his helmet, as if cupping his cheek. He shudders at the gentle touch and you smile warmly, providing a sight that melts his worries away. “I want this,” you stroke your thumb over the place it's resting as he leans into your touch. 

“I want you.” 

That's all it takes for Mando to throw away any doubt and let himself give in to the desires you seem to fill him with. Just for once, he figures, fuck it. He’s not stupid, he knows that eventually he would have to give in to you. Part of the reason he treats you the way he does is because you are so goddam frustrating. 

Your perfectly molded face, your honey sweet voice, the delicate way you handle the child. The way you care for the both of them, giving all that you have to ensure that they are well fed, well rested, and in tip top condition. It scares him half to death how much he really has come to care for you, but how could he not? 

He simply wouldn't be able to bear it if you left. None of his fears matter now though, all that he can think about is finally giving you the treatment, the pleasure, you deserve. Now that he is sure that you feel the same way, it's like a wall has come down, allowing him full access to what’s been hidden behind it for so long. 

He shakes his head as if trying to get rid of any thoughts that reside there as he starts to move again. He picks you up and carries you to his bunk, plopping you down on the sheets and causing you to giggle.  You sit up with your elbows and look at him looming over you between spread legs, moaning as he shoves his hand back into your panties, letting a finger dip down lower to tease into your soaked cunt. 

“Oh, f-fuck, Mando,” you keen under him and he has to try not to melt on the spot. His title has never sounded better. If only he could have the pleasure of hearing his real name fall from your plush lips. His eyes roll to the back of his head just from the thought. 

You look up into his visor as he eases a finger into your pussy, pumping it in and out a few times before adding a second. The delicious stretch has you clenching around his fingers, causing him to release a sharp breath through the modulator. 

You wonder for a second how many sounds his helm keeps from escaping, keeps from reaching your greedy ears. How often does he scoff at your light teasing, or laugh under his breath at your subtle jokes? You brush the thoughts away quicker than they came, you know you can never really know. 

Bringing your focus back to the man above you, you relish in the feeling of his fingers scraping against your walls, of his thumb brushing over your clit. You can feel your orgasm building up faster than you previously thought to be possible.

 Your legs are still shaking from the one you had granted yourself, and you feel a little overstimulated, but you find yourself not caring. When Mando crooks his fingers into that sweet spot deep inside you, you can't help the wave of relief that overcomes you. 

You cry out as he coaxes you through your second orgasm, continuing his ministrations, but at a slower pace. You look like heaven underneath him, hair falling onto the pillow and clinging to your face where sweat sheens. You look ethereal in your orgasmic haze, and the image alone is enough to make Mando’s cock twitch, making him buck involuntarily as his sensitive tip brushes the seam of his pants. 

You whimper as Mando whispers sweet praise into your ear, telling you how good you are for him, how only he can make you feel this good, how lucky he is to touch you in this way. You have never heard him speak this way, and honestly, you have a sneaking suspicion that he is too blissed out to know what he is saying.

As you come down, he removes his hands and starts to back away, unsure of what to do next. Your eyes snap to his retreating form as you sit up, a frown painted on your features at his sudden departure. He stops in his tracks when he sees your confusion. Your expression softens as you realize that he probably doesn’t know where to go from here. 

If you had to guess, you would say that Mando probably doesn’t have much experience with this kind of thing, and you would be right. The most he has done is find pleasure through brothels, maybe a few one night stands where he kept his armor on the whole time, always leaving before the sun rise. 

You suppress the urge to giggle when you notice the ever-growing tent in his pants, instead extending a hand as you settle at the end of his cot, legs hanging off the edge. It only takes him a second to figure out what you are asking for before taking a step forwards and placing a large hand in your own. 

You tug a little and he obeys your request, stepping closer until he stands in between your thighs. He looks down at you but doesn’t say anything and you take that as a sign to keep going. The corners of your lips tug into a smile as you release his hand to trace up his arm, all the way up to his shoulder which you mirror on the other side. 

You use his form to pick yourself up and stand in front of the cot, so close that your nose brushes the cool metal of his breastplate. Tilting your head to look up at him, you bring your hands slowly back down to lay flat on the beskar in front of you. Your turn.

Catching him off guard, you push him back slightly and then turn around while keeping your hands on him, making him switch positions. His breath hitches but he still doesn’t move, clearly wanting to see where this is going. 

You smirk at him and use one hand to push him again until the back of his knees hit the bunk, forcing him to sit down on the end. His face is almost level with yours in this position, and it brings you a newfound sense of confidence. 

You take your hands away from him and turn around, watching his hands try to catch your hips in your peripheral. You step away quickly though, just out of reach as you grab hold of the hem of your shirt to slowly bring it up over your head. Your smile widens at the pained groan that comes from behind you as you let the article fall to the floor by your bare feet, leaving you in just your ruined panties. 

Mando visibly stiffens when you turn back around, bottom lip caught between your teeth and hands brought up to fondle your perfect tits. His cock gets painfully harder at the sight and he has to clutch the blankets beneath him in order to keep his hands off his cock. The intimidating look in your eye gives him enough of a hint not to. 

He never thought that he would like to submit to anybody in any circumstance, but something about the way you stare down at him makes him reconsider. He seems to always be in charge–he always has to be–the thought of having someone else dominate him seems almost refreshing, though he thinks that he might feel differently if it wasn’t you. 

You keep padding over to him until you are close enough to put your hands on his thighs and lower yourself to your knees. A blush threatens to rise to your cheeks as you recall the last time you had been in a position like this, patching up a wound for Mando whilst trying not to jump his bones. 

You close your eyes for a beat as you take a deep, calming breath before focusing your gaze back to his helmet. You can't tell if the tremor you feel in your hands as you bring them up to his crotch is from your previous orgasms, nerves, or excitement.

When he feels your fingers start to work at his zipper, he pulls your hands away. You frown up at him, arching a brow to silently ask why he stopped you. 

“Cyare,” he starts, watching as you pull your hands back a little and cock your head. “You..” he sighs heavily, trying to find the words to say. 

“You don’t have to do that, cyare,” he says, finally. You roll your eyes and push his hands back out of the way, fingers finding his zipper once again.

“I know I don’t have to, Mando,” you say, training your eyes to watch your hands as they work with the clasp of his pants. “But I want to.” You feel him shudder underneath your touch as you unzip him completely and make a loose fist to let your knuckles lightly run across his length. Your eyes widen at how much bigger he looks without the pants in the way, only the thin fabric of his boxers concealing him from your hungry gaze. 

“Besides,” you look back up to him, “I am a woman of my word after all.” 

You don’t give him any time to respond before you are reaching into his boxers and wrapping a hand around him. He jerks up into your fist and you have to stifle a moan at how thick and warm he feels with your fingers wrapped around him. 

Pulling him out completely, you lean forward to taste the pearl of pre-cum that's collected on his tip. He bucks up and groans at the feeling of your tongue grazing his most sensitive part, there’s no way he’s going to last long with your mouth on him. The sounds he makes are absolutely sinful, and you have to bite your lip before moaning yourself. 

“F-fuck, pretty girl,” he says when you lick up the bottom of his shaft, trailing the vein that runs there. He hasn’t felt this good in a long time, and he knows it's going to be hard not to come in your mouth the second you take him. 

You smirk at his words as you lean back and use your hand to smear your saliva further around his cock, giving small jerks each time you meet the base. When he moans again, you take pity on him and wrap your lips around the head of his cock, closing your eyes as you suck gently. 

His hips shift, bringing him further into your mouth, and one of his hands fly up to settle in your hair at the sudden warmth engulfing his dick. You quickly pull off of him, watching a string of spit break and fall onto your chin. You tsk at him when he whines from the loss. 

“Nuh-uh, Mando,” you say in a slightly teasing but firm tone, “Keep your hands to your sides for me.” You can tell you are pushing your luck by ordering him around from the way he stiffens, but he obeys none-the-less, fisting the sheets with white knuckles. Maybe you should call him a good boy next time. You have to try not to laugh at the thought.

Satisfied with his compliance, you get back to work, this time taking more of him into the heat of your mouth. You moan around him as you take him deeper, sending vibrations through his spine. As you relax your throat to take more of him down, you begin to wonder if you will be able to. He's bigger than average, sure, but his girth is what makes you nervous. 

You bob your head up and down, trying to keeping eye contact with Mando. You can tell he is struggling to keep his composure, and it delights you much more than you would have thought. Finally, you are able to nestle your nose in the dark curls at the base of his cock. You sigh around him and you can feel him twitch in your mouth, a sign that he's getting close.

You use your tongue to swirl around the tip of his cock when you bring your head up, and each time, you feel him shiver above you. It really shouldn’t surprise you how sensitive the Mandalorian is considering he’s always glued to his armor, but for some reason, it does. 

He whimpers above you and you know that he's about to spill over the edge. Smirking around him, you bring a hand up to fondle his balls, pushing him to his limit. 

“S-shit!” he growls almost incoherently as he spills into your mouth, shooting ropes of cum down your throat. You are more than happy to swallow all that he gives you, but he carries a big load, and you can feel it start to dribble down your chin. 

As he stills, you pull your mouth away from his softening cock. You grin as you watch his form shake from the intensity of his orgasm, reveling in pride and the fact that you get to be the one to bring the ‘feirce Mandalorian’ so much pleasure. 

He watches you with hooded eyes as you swipe your thumb across your bottom lip to collect the cum that leaked out of your mouth. When you push the digit between your lips, he groans once again. 

“Fuck, cyar’ika,” he says, voice laced with both arousal and exhaustion. “That was..” he trails off as he watches you scoot forward on your knees and tuck him back into his pants. He doesn’t finish, he can tell that you know what he means. 

You stand up and stretch before placing a hand on his shoulder to push him down so that he is laying flat on the cot. He can see the tired look in your eyes and knows what you are asking for. You watch as he scoots back to the end of the cot, making sure to leave room for you. 

You glance at the childs pram across the hull to make sure he is still asleep before you climb in behind Mando, closing the door to the bunk behind you. He opens his arms in invitation and you gladly accept, climbing up to tangle with him, head resting on his chest and leg swung over his torso. 

Nothing is said for a few moments as he brushes his fingers through your hair, lulling you slowly to sleep. Eventually, when you feel yourself begin to doze off, he breaks the silence. 

“Thank you, sweet thing,” he says quietly, “for everything.”

You smile into his chest and he hugs you tighter to him. You don't have to say anything for him to know that you want to tell him the same. One good thing about Mandos’ whole ‘no speaking’ thing–he knows how to read you. 

You just hope he can't read everything. You are trying to ignore your feelings right now, but you feel conflicted. You want to ask him why he seems to get so distant, why he was being so weird earlier today, you want to tell him that if he feels differently about you, to let you go.

But on the other hand, you also want to beg him to hold you forever, to take you with him wherever he goes for the rest of your life, you want to tell him that you belong to him, that you want him to belong to you. 

For now though, you can't seem to do either as you succumb to the tiredness that takes over your body. “Youll have to make up your mind,” you reason with yourself as you drift off. You ignore the voice though, perfectly content to stay in the middle ground, wrapped in Mando’s strong arms as you fade from consciousness.

****

Thank you for reading!!

[rosecoloreddesire]

Sneaky Suspicions

Elvis x Reader

Summary: You kissed Elvis on a whim thinking you’d never do it again in your lifetime. Why would you ever think he’d show up at your door begging for you to kiss him again? Maybe because that’s what currently lies in front of you.

Note: This is my first smut in a LONG time. I apologize for any cringe! I had this in my drafts for awhile but I’m still working on chapter 4! Enjoy, lovies! (This can be any iteration of Elvis you want btw!) 

Masterlist

Part 2 ;)

Warnings: FILTH; NO MINORS! If you are uncomfy with smut I suggest not reading this entirely! 

“Elvis if my mama finds out you’re here,” you let out an exasperated sigh as he continued to smirk,” you wipe that smirk of your face, Presley!” He chuckled and placed his hands on your waist.

“C’mon, baby. You were at my show last night practically askin’ me to come find you again. That kiss…Darlin’, you can’t lie and say there wasn’t a spark.” His hands started to make their way to your ass as he continued his unwavering attempt to get your guard down.

“E-Elvis we kissed. That’s it! Why would someone like you care about someone like m- ahhh!” A sultry moan is ripped out of your mouth as his lips assault your neck. His hands beginning to grasp and massage at your backside. You placed your hands on his chest and weakly pushed. Your legs shook like the water beds you saw on TV. You felt your protests become mute as he began to leave marks in his wake.

“Please, baby. Lord, I can’t imagine how the rest of you tastes. I’ve wanted you bad, Y/N.” His normally icy blue eyes seemed to darken as they met your E/C docile ones. You felt yourself slip a little bit forward on the step you were on and he smiles.

“M-My room is the second on the right. Don’t waste anymore time, Elvis.” He didn’t need another word as he scooped you up into his arms. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you thought. You were FINALLY going to sleep with Elvis Presley. Who the hell did you think you were? He closes your door and you find your heart beating faster than ever before.

“That dress looks sinful on that body of yours, lil’ mama. Lord knows I wanna rip it off ya.” He pushes you lightly to lay on the bed and you comply. You find comfort in the smell of his cologne as it invades your bedroom. He smiles as he gazes upon your body. 

“Please, Elvis. I need you so badly right now.” Your breath comes out in short breaths as he crawled up your body. He blew his warm breath along the column of your neck. You shiver, pulling him closer instinctively. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m tryna keep myself calm but god you look like an angel.”  He pulled the top of your bodice down. He sighed before he attacked your chest in love bites. You arch your back as he catches your nipple in his mouth. You whine as he bites down softly. Your hands thread through his raven hair and tug slightly. He gives the same attention to your other nipple. You arch into his body , yearning for more.  He leads his kisses down your stomach. He pushes the bottom of your dress up and bites at your thighs. He pushed your panties to the side and circled his finger around your neglected clit. Thought you were trying to regain your senses. You were a waitress at a local diner in Memphis. How come Elvis was so interested in you of all the girls he could ever have? 

“E-Elvis. W-We can’t my ma-” You grab his face and kiss him wildly. His tongue slipping into your awaiting mouth. Your body acting on its own will. Your senses really failed you on this one. Your mama was gonna kill you if she found out ‘Elvis THE Pelvis’ was in your bed!

“Calm down, sweetheart. You’re flutterin’ like a bird. You are so wet.” He whispered and continued his worship of your body with his mouth. A whimper left your lips as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. His warm breath hitting your pussy, a quiver running through you. 

“Elvis, please.” Your voice shook as he continued to tease around the spot you needed him most. He really was going to tease you like you teased him with that kiss last night.

“Keep sayin’ my name, darlin’.” The feeling of his tongue between your thighs made you squeal. Licking up your wet folds as he sucked onto your sensitive clit. Your hand gripped his hair again as you tried to make sense of the ramblings coming out of your mouth. If you weren’t already crying out the groan that fell from his lips as you pulled his hair would have made you scream. He pressed his mouth as close as he could get into your folds like you were his last meal. 

“Elvis. Babyyy. Slow d-down. Oh god.” You felt the vibrations of his moans and growls in your pussy as he never missed a beat. He gripped your thighs as you tried to pull away slightly. His nose pressed against your clit as he heard your moans get higher and louder. He pulls away for a second panting like a beast. You bit your lip. 

“You taste divine, baby. C’mon, cum for me, darlin’.” he dove right back between your thighs, scared he might miss too much of your exquisite taste. A burning sensation started to form in your lower abdomen. Your hips began to buck against his face as he became more desperate in his ministrations. You felt your orgasm nearing and you threw your head back. A finger pressed against your opening and you cried out. You nodded when he prodded a second finger to your entrance. 

“I-I’m gonna- fuck-” Elvis groaned as you began to push at his head as your body shook with extreme pleasure. He lifted his head from beneath your thighs and shot you a glossy smirk. 

“Damn, baby. You taste amazing-” You cut him off by colliding his lips with yours. Anything to keep this moment in your brain. The taste of yourself veiled on his tongue and lips. He smiles into the kiss and pulls away, standing up. Before he can adjust himself you fall to your knees in front of him. His adamant protests die in his throat as you rub him through his suit pants. 

“C’mon, Elvis. Can’t I have a little fun now?” You begin to unzip his pants as his breath quickens at your words. Pulling his cock out you give it a chaste kiss to the tip. Your hand stoking him up and down. Elvis inhales a quick breath of air as you giggle. 

“Keep lookin’ up at me like that darlin’. Fuck, you look sinful, baby.” You smiled before wrapping your lips around his cock.  You flatten your tongue dragging it along the base up to the tip. You watch as his eyes roll back into his head, a loud groan leaving his pink lips. 

You pull away as he takes a deep breath. His wide dark lust filled eyes meeting yours. You pumped his cock in your hands, sticking your tongue out to slip around the head. His breath gets caught in his throat as his hands move to the back of your head. His fingers collecting your hair into a fist. You giggle and relax the back of your throat before taking a deep breath yourself. Hope he was ready. You gag as he thrusts into your awaiting mouth. Saliva pooling around his cock and your mouth as he all but sobs into the silence of you bedroom. His eyes never leave your lips as your lips graze the base of his cock. His mind becoming numb as he can only think of the feeling of your throat. 

“Holy shit, baby. I-I thought you ain’t ever been with- fuck.” You look up at him and his hips stutter forward. A whiny moan leaves your mouth, sending a vibration through Elvis. You nod at him as he begins to thrust in and out of your mouth. Strings of curses and mumbled words of praise tumble out of his mouth.

“So good for me.” 

“Fuck, lil’ mama. Your mouth feels like heaven.” 

“That’s my girl.”

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” He gasps as you seemingly take him deeper into your throat. He looks down at you once again, his eyes rolling back as you stare right back. His body begins to shake and his hands leave the back of your head. His climax hitting him as you continued your ministrations. He soon pulls you off with a pop. You kiss the sensitive tip once more as he winces at the feeling.

“Was that kiss last night worth it, Elvis Presley?” He chuckles pulling you closer to his body, once again laying you on your bed. His lips find solace against yours. You feel yourself become dizzy with desire as he ground his cock against you. 

“It was so damn worth it, darlin’.” He begins to growl into your mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist. God, you never wanted this to end-

“Y/N L/N! Have you seen that Presley boy is in town again?! Damn greasers! Y/N?” Your mama’s voice rang through the house and you flinched. Of course, right when you're getting down to it, wait your mama’s home! Your eyes widen and Elvis breathily chuckles in your ear. You try pushing him off of you so you could think of a paln but he’s still grinding against you. He moans as you try to still his hips. 

“Shh! We gotta get you outta here, Presley!” 

“Not without another round!” 

“Elvis!”