#for me sometimes or if i need accommodations that i didn’t used to need

[cozybi]

i do NOT have to do things the hard way it is GOOD to do things the easier way it is GOOD to make things gentler for myself wherever possible and i DESERVE help and kindness in all situations !!!!!!!!!!!!

[grimesgirll]

sometimes you loathed sleeping in the middle just for the difficulty getting out of bed. if you were sandwiched between rick and daryl, then you had to peel their arms off - if you could manage to shrug off rick - and scootch to the end of the bed, using your arms even to bring yourself forward without making too much of a commotion.

“where’re you goin’, sweetheart?”

“bathroom.”

you send him a smile and peel his arm off once again to push off the bed and pad over to the en suite.

he’s all over you once you return to the bed and crawl on hands and knees back to your spot. before your head hits the pillow, rick’s hands are on you and wrapping around to lock you into his embrace.

rick needs you to sleep. you’re his soft, pliable paperweight. it’s just something you’ve picked up about the man. being the number one person he wanted in his arms flattered you. however, you weren’t prepared for how often rick took advantage of this access.

you’re choking back sweet moans once his two fingers breach your walls. you want to be shocked at the forwardness but rick knows you too well. instead, you’re grinding your hips back into him.

“you’re getting me all flustered again,” you mumble.

rick picks up the pace. “what? you don’t wanna cum all over my fingers before you go to bed?”

you nearly double into daryl hearing the sheriff’s words. “yes!”

“man, you’re keepin’ her up.”

rick clicks his tongue. “i don’t see her complainin’.”

you want to chime in with some smart comment but you’re too busy getting rick’s thick fingers jammed up your pussy.

“i don’t think you’ll be complainin soon enough.” rick remarks playfully to the other man. he lowers his lips to your ear. “wanna help us all sleep better, sweetheart?”

you shake your head sure.

next thing you know you’re on your hands and knees facing daryl. a hand in your hair guides you to his clothed cock.

“why don’t you show daryl how much you like us keepin’ you up?”

daryl sends you a look like he feels guilty that you’re freeing his pants instead of soundly sleeping but any remorse is gone once you flick your tongue against the side of his shaft.

rick lining himself up and subsequently knocking the wind out of you with a rocky thrust drives you right down daryl’s dick. you gag and daryl nearly jumps out of bed at the sudden feeling.

you feel like you’re being split open with rick ramming into you from behind. every thrust bounces you further up and down daryl’s cock. his hands find your braids. you braided your hair at night to lock in moisture not that rick didn’t love tugging on them so hard they unraveled.

stuffed to the hilt with cock, you’re finding it hard to think about anything else than the men pistoning you between them. all to sleep better. god knows they needed it though. the weight atlas had on his shoulders was nothing compared to what rick and daryl were saddled with.

at the very least, you could offer your ever accommodating pussy. it wouldn’t solve all of their problems but you could help.

and when they take such good care of you, how can you refuse?

circling back to your pleasure, rick reaches down to linger a finger or two strategically against your clit. you know it won’t be long for you once he maintains the same excruciating pace he liked to subject you to in order to get you coming twice on his cock; once to get started and once to finish him off.

after that, daryl would cum down your throat and bring you in for a heated kiss, nearly forcing you back into rick- still inside of you. eventually, rick’s pulling out to grab a soft towel to clean you off with while daryl lifts your hips for you so you can focus on his tongue between your teeth.

rick will bring over your favorite oversized sweatshirt of his to drown in. then you’ll be back, hugged to his chest.

daryl eventually rolls closer so you can lay your head on his chest. the position may require some reconfiguring as the night goes on but they’ll probably just shift you in your sleep so you don’t worry about it.

it won’t be long again until you’re waking up feeling needy or they are or you’re met with something hard beside you.

and this is why you love sleeping in the middle.

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ the mood i'm in ❞ ─ an adhd chronicles blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!adhd!reader. summary: sometimes rearranging a whole entire closet is a biological need. content warnings: fluff, adhd antics (i'm diagnosed don't try to come for me) word count: 600+. a/n: this was requested by @ficmeoutofthisworld and i felt the need to make a blurb!verse of it, so expect more fluff for these three 🩵 & the idea of jack calling you honey came from honey is for love by @angellsell

      “Daddy, honey has that weird look again.” Aaron can’t help but smile at his little boy, putting the files he was working on down on his desk, telling him to come closer with his hands. Jack had gotten into the habit of calling you honey very early on in your relationship, that being one of the pet names Aaron used the most when talking to you. It was too endearing to correct him, even after you moved in. You both just let the boy be, knowing that he would call you by name once he got older.

      You didn’t mind him not calling you mom or any of its variants, even if the relationship you shared now was much alike mother and child, Jack didn’t remember a lot of Haley by himself, he was too little, but Aaron always did his best to keep her memory alive in him, so if for his young mind it was easier to call you a pet name, you would take it every single time with a smile. And so would Aaron. 

      “What look, buddy?” He asks even though he’s sure he knows the answer, having been through that a few times over the last two years. 

      “She’s staring at my stuff and sitting on the floor.” Bingo. Every once in a while you would get obsessed with something, it made sense after you were diagnosed with ADHD and he learnt how to accommodate you properly, but for a while it was just a big clash of his organized and controlling nature and your chaotic mind. 

      “Let’s see what she needs, okay?” Jack nods, leading the way with his dad closely behind. They find you exactly as his boy explained to him, sitting with your legs crossed on the floor, staring at his wardrobe so attentively it might scare the unknown eye. 

      “Darling? What’s going on?” He asks without entering the room, not wanting to invade your space before you called him in, instead he decided to lean on the door frame, observing you with his kind eyes.

      “I want to rearrange all of Jack’s clothes but we need more hangers for that and I don’t want to go to the store just to buy hangers, but I also can’t get up to go to the kitchen and check what else we need.” You answered quickly, finishing your ramble with a huff, dropping your shoulders and looking at your fiancé with a pout that made him get closer to you, offering his hands so you could have some support while getting up, you lazily do it, being embraced by him as soon as your feet touch the ground. 

      “Go watch something with Jack, okay?” His tone is always soft, as if your conversations, even the silliest and mundane ones, were secrets for you two to keep. He knew you too well, so he prevented the whine he knew would come–you wanted to get this done, you needed to rearrange Jack’s clothes or the itch in your brain wouldn’t leave–and he did so by holding both of your cheeks with his hands, making you look at him. “I’ll make the shopping list and then you both can go to Target while I get some reports done.” You nod happily, his hands moving with your head. 

      Telling you to watch something with Jack could seem like a mindless choice of words, but it wasn’t, Aaron knew you were feeling stuck and how bad that made you feel, you needed a dopamine kick before you could do something, and no better way for that than colorful silly shows with your favorite boy.

      By the time he’s done with the shopping list, you had already started another important project: Napping on the couch with Jack. So he leaves it attached with a magnet on the fridge, gives you both soft forehead kisses and goes back to work, not minding the fact he did it quickly for no reason, happy you were resting and that it was done for when you decided to shop.

[dipperscavern]

Hello! If your 1K celebration is still going, can I please ask for spell casting with the below prompt for our Wolf in the North, Cregan Stark?

"Am I too close?" - "No, no! You're fine.."

I like to think that Cregan is quite tall and when trying to court the reader (maybe a younger sister of Black Aly?) he uses his size to grab a book from a shelf for her, or an apple from a tree...

Thanks so much, I love your work <3

hi, thank u for requesting!!

16. “am i too close?” “no, no! you’re fine..”

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

“Seven hells…”

you breathed out a curse, trying & failing to reach the book you’re after for what seemed like the hundredth time.

it wasn’t your fault, really. you're not the tallest, as alys had gotten all the tall genes, but winterfell seemed to be made for giants. the books on history in winterfells library were always on the highest shelf, as if the lord of winterfell themselves were only ever the ones to need them. in rooms, furs are kept on racks so high it’s a wonder nobody’s broken an ankle trying to reach them. and gods, the stables — you’d think the Father himself was riding these horses.

of course, these were just one woman’s complaints, as the men in winterfell were unlike most down south. bigger, tougher, thicker — more respectful, yes. you much liked the northmen, but sometimes, you would curse them and their ancestors aloud. like right now.

“You’d think, after giants being gone for— what?” you jumped to try and reach the book again, failing once more. “—a few years, I’d say, that one might…” you jumped in a final, but fatal attempt, missing the book by inches. “stop building castles as if expecting to host an army of them at any possible time, gods-!” you said, craning your neck upwards, looking at the book you would never crack the spine of.

you groaned, mindful of your noise, but aware that no one was in the library this time of day. “Men,” you said, to nobody but yourself. you smoothed your skirts, turning to leave and sulk on your loss. instead, you’re met with the hulking figure of the warden of the north. your potential husband.

“Lord Stark.” you say, caught by surprise. caught, most certainly — for you were just speaking in a manner most improper. he seems to know this, has to have heard you, for a small smile plays on his lips as he nods toward you in acknowledgment.

“I’ve told you when we’re alone, it’s Cregan.”

you huff out a sigh, and it amuses cregan greatly. could being called by his name be such the inconvenience? “Lord Stark is…” you start, trying to search for an excuse. cregan is your lord, his name is far too personal — even if he is courting you. “… proper.” you decide.

he begins to step closer, gaze momentarily flicking to the bookcase behind you. “My lady didn’t sound very proper a moment ago.”

your cheeks begin to pink. “I was — unaware of your presence,” you defend. “And you know my name.” you add defiantly, as an afterthought.

you think you may have overstepped, but the warmth doesn’t leave cregans face. he only licks his lips. “My lady is proper.”

you hold back your eye roll with great effort, and cregan seems to notice, deciding to take pity. “What troubles you so?” he asks, now stood in front of you. closely. you can feel the heat radiating from him, even through his layers.

you cross your arms, turning to face your mortal enemy. “A certain book eludes me..”

cregan hums. “I’ve heard this place was built to accommodate giants.”

you know he jests, but you nod anyways. “Whomever told you that must have been quite the intelligent.”

and to your surprise, the reserved lord stark of winterfell huffs out a laugh. he moves to walk forward, and this time, means to bring you with him — a hand on the small of your back guiding you along. he stops in front of the bookshelf, looking at the highest row, then at you.

“Which?”

the question is simple, yet makes warmth flood your veins all the same. you swallow your nerves, “The one with the green spine. Towards you.”

cregan stretches an arm toward the book, as per your instruction, large frame reaching it with ease. the hand on your back is warm, big; firmer as he leans forward to get what you desire.

he hands it to you, and you mutter a soft murmur of thanks. his hand is on your back, he’s just done the kindest (most attractive) gesture in the history of gestures, and he’s leaned down into your space to hand you the book. you can’t breathe.

after a few seconds, when you’ve done nothing but look at him, he seems to register the proximity. and he’s tentative, aware of his size & power, ever respectful.

“Am I too close?”

“No,” you say, much too quickly. you recognize your mistake, but it’s too late to take it back. you can only hope to correct it. “No, you’re fine.”

he catches it as soon as it leaves your mouth, and he only tilts his head, actively trying to suppress his smile. he decides you embracing oxygen is important, and straightens to his full height. that only makes your eyes go wide, and cregan might be worried if he couldn’t see the want dancing in them.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

[ovaryacted]

Ok giving Leon a head while we're on our period? That's hot af girl <3

MDNI/18+. NSFW

I don’t know why the phrase “that’s hot af girl” made me laugh when I first saw this but yeah, I think it’s just a thought I had that would be a possibility. Overall, I don’t think Leon is the type of guy to ask for sex either (unless he’s very pathetic and needy and just can’t help himself). But when it comes to you on your cycle, he’s especially considerate and does things on your terms, as he always does.

He’s a sweetheart and a gentleman through and through, and if you ask for him to be a little handsy or rougher with you in the bedroom he’s willing to accommodate. When your cycle hits, he’s gentle, careful not to squeeze or touch you too much unless you ask. Focusing on tending to your needs, he feeds you, comforts you, and is intent on keeping you occupied as a distraction from your cramps. He likes cradling your head as you rest on his lap on the couch, watching some reality TV show you’re both binging.

It’s relaxing and calm, but his touches also make your body tingle. Your period made you hypersensitive to things like certain scents and materials, hence why you mostly wear baggy cotton clothes when you’re on your cycle. Leon touching you also falls under that umbrella, and you quickly go from wanting comfort to craving something else.

Rubbing yourself against his lap, you hum as he massages a certain spot at the top of your head, his thick thumbs pressing into your cranium so deliciously it is enough to make you want more. Unintentionally, your mouth started to water at the thought of having him in your mouth, mind growing distant and no longer paying attention to the show on the screen. Discretely, you press your cheek closer to his pelvis, your nose almost against his crotch.

“Want something?”, he’s coy when he asks you, as if he doesn’t already know what you were thinking. This was just his way of checking in on you, making sure you were alright. Your eyes looked up to him, his hand caressing your cheek and keeping you right where you were.

“Really want to suck your dick”, the vulgarity of your words makes him genuinely laugh, deep from within his chest. It takes him off guard sometimes, but it also turns him on just enough to entertain you, his cock already twitching in his sweats.

“Go ahead, baby. Take what you need”, in his mind, he’s doing it more for your pleasure than his own, wanting to cater to your desires and curb your oral fixation. Anything you want, he’ll gladly provide, and more.

That’s how Leon found himself in this position, keeping your hair out of your face as you sucked him off. It’s like you’re giving him something new to watch, your spit dribbling out of your mouth and making a mess underneath you. Your jaw was growing sore from how hard you were working over him, slippery hands twisting his length as your tongue circled the very tip of him. The show was quickly forgotten, his entire focus now on how your mouth felt, moaning under his breath with every tug you gave him.

“Yeah, this is what you needed, right sweetheart? Just something to keep your mouth busy?”, his voice dropped an octave, no longer holding the mellow baritone you were used to but more gravelly than before.

You offered him a hum, pulling your lips off of him before going to lick at his balls, something that made him groan even louder. Hell if you asked for it, he’d happily fuck your throat, he was very close to doing it but not without your say. Instead, he lets you use him to your heart’s content, quickly turning into a mess of drool as you work faster over him.

His hips shift upward in a gentle motion, bringing your attention back to the tip of his cock. Moving away from his balls, you slip him back into your waiting mouth, nuzzling your nose into his pelvis until you were deep-throating him, audibly gagging from the force of it and Leon’s ears perked up at the sound.

You didn’t plan on stopping until he spilled his cum deep down your throat, or stains your pretty face with his spend. Leon wants to see that wide-crazed smile you give him after you finish him off, your eyes all glazed over and satisfied with your work. He knows you’d rather have him fuck you properly, slipping him inside your tight wet body and keeping him snug there until you wanted him to leave. But for now, this was enough for you, and if you wanted more, Leon would be quick to oblige. He doesn’t mind getting a little messy anyway, it’s what makes things fun.

[silvvermoon]

Like a Battering Ram

Aki, who's always selfless with you, always giving and never taking. You want to change that, you want him to use you for once. You want him to fuck you rough and hard and punishing and no, you don't want anything less.

tags: overstimulation, dom!Aki, pussy slapping, praise, pussy eating, roughhhhh play

pairing: Aki Hayakawa x Reader

Aki’s always been so accommodating to your needs ever since you first met, ever since you first fucked. During that initial stage when you were sort-of-kind-of-maybe dating, Aki would eat your pussy out in the car as soon as he picked you up at the end of your shift because, in his words, you needed it. It didn’t matter that any of your colleagues could have seen you like that, spread out on the backseat of Aki’s car, skirt pulled up to your stomach while you whimpered against Aki’s tongue on your clit. You were always terrified you’d get caught like that, maybe even fired. But the pleasure always won out when Aki would spread your wet folds apart and murmur out “Shhh baby, I know, I know. Just a little bit longer for me, ‘kay? I just want to get you nice and ready for when I drop you home.” 

Of course you gave in, you could always hold out just a little longer with the promise of getting stretched out on Aki’s cock, right?

And then, after you two properly got together, Aki never slowed down even once. Always teasing, attentive, and making sure you could handle everything he’d give you. He was always so slow to prep you, knowing that the girth of his cock made you breathless and sometimes tense up. He loved how tight you were, the way your pussy would squeeze around his cock while you’d bite your lip and try not to wince. “Easy, princess. Just take a deep breath for me, yeah?” he’d whisper, reaching down to thumb at your clit while you bucked into his touch. He’d press gentle kisses into your neck while you relaxed around him, telling you what a good girl you’ve been for him.

Aki’s always been so good to you. Never rough or careless like some of the guys you’ve been with before have been. He’s always done his best to make sure he’s patient with you, make sure you’re enjoying yourself and that you’re feeling as good as he can make you. And of course, Aki’s always done his best to make sure that you cum. Even if it means he has to spend all night with his face between your thighs.

It’s great, really. Aki is, without a doubt, the best fuck and the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for. You remind him of this as much as you can. When you’re kissing him after he gets home late from the office, when he’s making breakfast and you wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your lips against his nape in the way you know he loves, and after he’s fucked you through and through and all you can do is breathe out “I love you so fucking much, Aki” into the pillow.

Aki’s selfless when it comes to you, and that’s the problem. 

You know he’s holding back, you can feel it when he fucks you and his hands come to wrap around your throat but pull away at the last minute, with Aki leaning down to kiss you instead. Even when you’ve asked for rougher, promising him that you really can take it, he holds your hips just that tad too gently and never lets his thrusts grow too erratic. He’s always so controlled, and for once, you just want to see him let loose. You want to see him take what he wants and use your body however he needs to.

It’s just… it’s a bit hard to keep asking for rougher when Aki’s idea of rough is gently running his nails down your chest. You want pain. Like the burn in your throat when you pinch one of his cigarettes and smoke it on the balcony late at night. You want him to split your pussy open, spend less time on relaxing you and more on ramming your cervix until you’re whimpering with a mix of pain and pleasure.

So, yeah. Asking for that is going to be difficult. You only know one other option that seems to get Aki riled up more than anything else: being the biggest fucking brat Aki’s ever had to deal with.

You never expected your plan to work, and you were completely right. It doesn’t.

Your problem is that you don’t really know how to act bratty. Not in a sexy way, at least. Everything you ask Aki for, he gives you. Mostly. 

You start by leaving unwashed plates by the kitchen sink, your laundry on the bedroom floor. You catch Aki raising his eyebrows at you but other than that he says nothing. You wake up to find the dishes clean and the clothes all folded away, and of course, Aki pressed up against you in bed, leaving small kisses on your nape as he reminds you not to be late for work.

It’s a bit of a foil in your plan since you always remember Aki complaining about when he lived with Denji and Power, and just how damn shitty he was with their mess. He was all snappy and hard eyes, and for some ridiculous reason your horny brain said ‘please fuck me when you’re like this.’ 

But Aki doesn’t snap at you or get mad, in fact, he doesn’t even look remotely close to being frustrated. So you know you’ll have to keep brainstorming some stupidly wonderful ideas to bring out that roughness inside of him. 

It finally happens when you take it a little bit too far. Well, you didn’t really think it’s that bad but Aki seems to think so.

Aki’s opened the balcony door, standing half-in while holding up an empty cigarette packet and waving it at you.

“Okay, look, baby, where are the rest of my cigarettes?” he asks.

“I finished them.” You don’t even skip a beat.

Aki goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he heard you, with the thrum of the washing machine in the background drowning out your voice. You repeat yourself, and a stupid part of yourself starts to feel excited. Is this it? Was this the way to go?

Aki glares at the ground and finally speaks. “Fuck, that was my last pack unless I left one in the dra-”

“Oh, I went through that as well. Sorry.” Yes, you threw them in the bin a bit too gleefully. He doesn’t have to know that though. And no, you’re not sorry at all. Your manners have long gone in this quest for rough sex.

He’s staring at you now, a bit annoyed and a bit confused. “You don’t even smoke though, not properly anyway, so why would you go through two packs in two whole fucking days? What are you, a chimney now? Have you been replaced by Himeno in my sleep?” 

Yes. This is your chance. You shove your phone back on the kitchen counter and move towards Aki, grabbing him by his tie, pulling him from the balcony and shutting the door. He’s oddly pliant for someone who’s usually so stiff.

“Maybe I did, what’re you going to do about it?” you murmur, pressing your hands against his chest and raking down, feeling the heat of his body through his shirt. “Does it annoy you?” 

“Yes,” Aki says, then winces, backtracks, and tries to say, “no, I mean, not really, I guess. Just my morning smoke, but I can run down to the store to grab more.”

“You’re not even a little bit annoyed at me?” you probe.

“Definitely not at you, baby.”

You frown. Your hands are still rubbing his shoulders when you say “well that’s a shame, I’ve been trying so hard to piss you off this whole month. I really thought that one would have done it.” 

Aki looks confused. “And why have you been trying to do that? Wait, is that why you’ve been making a mess of everything? I thought you were just too tired after work to do the cleaning.” He groans, “and my cigarettes, was that…?”

You pull back from him and sigh, “Aki, I love you. You’re just so… good to me. Too good. I wanted you to get annoyed enough to fuck me, you know, angrily . You’re always so sweet to me, give me everything I could ever want. But I need you to be selfish sometimes, use me . I know you get so stressed working as a devil hunter and I guess I just want you to take some of that anger out on me.” Once the words start coming out they just can’t stop. You wanted this to be natural, not awkward and stumbling like you sound now.

Aki’s silent again, and you suddenly feel very dumb. You’ve done so much dumb shit for some stupid plan that doesn’t even make sense. You start to turn away, walk back to the bedroom to go hide in bed, in the shower, in the cupboard to pretend this never happened at all and-

Aki stops you, his hand gripping your shoulder hard. His voice is low when he speaks, “You could’ve just told me that you wanted it like that.” He pulls you back to him, hands pressed into your hips.

You glance up. “You would’ve been too gentle on me, you’re too kind like that.”

Aki snorts. “Not when I see how committed you are like this. You really want it that rough, huh?” He’s pushing at you now, leading you back to the bedroom without you even realising. “How rough do you think you can handle?”

Your back hits the mattress when he urges you down, pulling at your top to get it off. You let out a yelp when he slaps your thigh, clicking his tongue while he eases you out of your skirt too. “Too slow, get this rubbish out the way.”

It’s sudden and Aki’s hands are rough on your skin. You’re too excited seeing him like this. “I can take it all, I promise,” you tell him, reaching up to tug him on top of you. Your hands are cupping his jaw, tracing down his pretty face while he undoes your bra. 

Aki pauses, grabbing your hand that’s touching him. “If it’s too much, tell me to stop.”

“Will you listen?”

“Not if you don’t want me to.”

And that’s enough to make your pussy wetter than it already is. Aki hasn’t bothered removing his own clothes yet, only yours. Your panties are still on and he leans down so he can mouth at your mound through the fabric, spreading your pussy lips until he can see the outline of your wet folds.

“Spread that pretty pussy for me, yeah, just like that, angel,” he murmurs, urging you to bring your own hands down beneath your panties while he presses his lips against you. It’s a teasing touch, just his breath ghosting against the fabric. You let out a soft whimper when Aki presses a finger up against your clit, rubbing it softly before pulling back. You whine at the loss of contact.

“Shhhh, you want me to be a little bit selfish now, right?” Aki asks, and you nod eagerly. “Then be a good girl and open that pretty mouth of yours for me, yeah, that’s right”, and then his long fingers are thumbing against your lips, pressing in to slide alongside your tongue. Your mouth is watering and yet he’s barely even doing anything to you.

“Get them wet for me, sweetheart. Show me how much you wish my fingers were my cock in your mouth.” 

Yeah. You could die happily right now. You love the taste of Aki’s skin, the way his fingers press to the back of your throat and make you gag a bit, you feel just so full of him. Usually, if Aki hears you gag or choke, he pulls away and checks that you’re okay. Tonight that care seems to be gone, and your eyes water when Aki slips two more fingers into your mouth, groaning as he stretches your lips as though it’s his dick stuffed down your throat.

Your breathing is hard when Aki finally removes his fingers and all you can do is wait for his next demand. He’s turned on too, you know this for sure when you see his erection through his pants and reach out to palm him. Beneath Aki’s pants is that perfectly fat cock of his, leaking precum just for you. You want to suck his cock so fucking badly, you really do, but you’ll wait for Aki to decide when he wants that. 

“Shift back up on the bed for me. And pull those panties down, I want to be able to eat that pussy properly, spread wide open for me, okay?” his voice is firm and no, he’s not really asking.

“A-Aki,” you say, “you know I love your tongue on me but… tonight’s meant to be about you.”

He gives you a sharp look, and tells you “I’m not going to go easy on you, princess. I just want to make sure your cunt’s all nice and overstimulated right before I stretch you out with my cock. That’s what you want, right?” 

Yes, that’s exactly what you want. You nod and whimper, “Fuck, Aki… but what about-”

Aki leans in close and coos in your ear, “I want you shaking and crying by the time I finally fuck you. Want you so fucking tight for me that that you’re still cumming again and again when I fill you up.” He’s so close, words vibrating against your skin while he sucks at the soft skin of your neck. “Think you can do that for me, angel? That’s what I want.”

And how could you ever deny him? If that’s what Aki wants from you, you’ll happily give. You’ll let him tear as many orgasms out of you as he can, until you’re nothing but a drooling mess with your pussy clenching around his cock. Milking him, begging him to fill your empty, needy cunt full of his cum.

His hands are warm on your thighs when you move back to lean against the bedhead, strong fingers kneading your soft flesh while you shakily remove your panties and toss them onto the floor. You feel incredibly exposed like this, but you know Aki’s waiting so patiently for you to do as you’re told. You reach down and spread your soaked pussy lips, gasping slightly when your thumb brushes up against your sensitive clit.

“Fuck, baby, God, you’re so- fuck,” Aki sounds so choked up, but he’s leaning in between your legs, covering your fingers with his own so that he can spread you out even more. Gently pulling the hood of your clit back so that you can feel his warm breath where you’re so, so sensitive. You love this though, knowing that Aki’s the only one who’s able to see you like this, touch you like this.

“Good girl,” he whispers as he presses kisses up your thigh, lips getting closer and closer to your aching cunt. “Keep yourself open for me, like that,” he reminds you, and that’s the only warning you get before his tongue is lapping at your clit, sucking and ghosting his teeth over your sensitive little bud. Aki’s always been good at eating your cunt, but you swear he gets better every time he’s down there. Even when he’s just teasing you, it still feels better than anything or anyone else ever has.

“A-Aki,” you whine, reaching out to grasp his hair but find your hands getting pushed away, held down against the mattress. “Stop it,” he warns. Aki keeps you like that, moving his face further down your slick folds so that his nose is rubbing up against your clit while his tongue presses into your leaking hole. “S’ good, please, more,” you slur out, because you want his tongue in you, not just the little teasing circles he’s swiping around your entrance. You need something in you so badly. Even just the bridge of Aki’s nose against your clit is enough to make you feel you’re gonna build towards your release, and if you’re going to cum, you want to be filled with Aki. His tongue, his fingers, his cock. You’ll happily take any of those as long as you’re not empty.

He pulls back, grinning at you with his lips coated in your wetness, “Patience, baby. You’re meant to be letting me enjoy myself over here.” And then he’s back to it, his warm tongue pushing past your slick folds and into your cunt, thrusting in while using his other hand to reach up and play with your clit. He’s not as gentle this time and you love it. Aki’s tongue deep in your cunt while he rolls your spit-soaked clit between two fingers, something that usually might have been too much for you but now it’s perfect. And then when he brushes his thumb over your clit just like that, you can feel the tension in your belly grow stronger, stronger, until you’re whimpering and reaching up to pinch your own nipples just to get you on that edge.

Aki knows you so well. Too well. He doesn’t even have to glance up, instead, his voice is muffled against your cunt when he says “greedy fucking girl, go on then, cum for me for the first time tonight, sweetheart,” and that’s all you need. You pinch your nipples hard enough to almost bruise them, whining and squirming as your cunt clenches around Aki’s tongue, trying to draw him in further while your soaked pussy lets out a bit of squirt. Aki keeps his fingers on your clit the whole time, helping you ride out your orgasm while he laps up your juices with his tongue.

When he finally pulls himself away from your cunt, you’re a whole fucking mess. Your cunt is still pulsing and you can barely breathe but fuck- you want more. So much more. You don’t even realise you’re saying it until Aki grabs your shaky legs, pulls them over his shoulder and asks you “what made you think I was gonna stop there?” His cock isn’t even out, and you really don’t understand why until a light smack comes down on your wet pussy.

“Fuck, Aki!” you cry, your overstimulated clit taking the full brunt of Aki’s slap. It stings lightly, and you can tell Aki’s trying to read your face to know if this is too much for you, but it’s not. You whine and spread your cunt for me, begging Aki to slap your puffy pussy lips again. It’s not enough to make you cum, but just the rhythm of his hand lightly slapping your cunt gets that warm feeling in your belly growing again. He starts light, then gradually the slaps get harsher. Not quite painful but enough to make you yelp, still spreading your pussy lips for him while you wait for the smack to come down against your clit.

“Shit,” Aki breathes, and you can see the bulge in his pants now, can feel it pressing up against the inside of your thigh, grinding slowly. “You’re doing so well for me, really didn’t think you’d be able to take this much” he tells you, pulling his hand back to unzip his pants. You don’t even care about the stinging sensation of your cunt, all you can do is watch as Aki strips for you, shirt off first, pants and briefs gone next. 

You’ve always adored every part of Aki; his pretty face, his lightly-toned figure, his crap sense of humour and of course, his OCD cleaning routine that quite literally clashes with your hoarding routine. But fuck, his cock is fucking perfect for you. He’s thick as fuck, more than girthy enough to stretch your tight cunt out and make you gasp, but not too long to the point where it hurts. Aki’s cock was made for pounding you, always hitting the right spots and making you tear up when you cum on him. You reach out to palm him, wanting to feel the pre-cum he’s leaking in your hand but he slaps you away again.

“Stop that. What did I say?” Aki slurs, eyes heavy as he presses his cock up against your swollen entrance, “patience, angel. I’ll only give it to you if you’re good for me.” And that’s a big fucking lie. He really should be making you wait but no, Aki’s already pushing in, making you tense up at the stretch and gasp for air. He was right, you’re way too overstimulated to take him with any sort of ease. Your cunt tightens around him as he stretches you out, making you whimper while he whispers into your ear “shhhh, you’re alright, baby. I know, just relax. Let me make you feel good.” You trust him on that, Aki always knows how to make you feel good. 

Aki stills, cups your face, and says “I won’t make it hurt, not too much anyway. Only as much as you can take.”

You try to nod shakily at him when he’s most of the way in, “please Aki, s’ good now, I need it,” you whine, bucking your hips up to get him in just a little deeper. You can handle it. The only problem is with your legs around Aki’s shoulders, you don’t really have much room to take control. It’s all up to Aki, and so far he’s only rewarding you with shallow thrusts, glancing down at where his cock is splitting you open.

“You’re so fucking greedy,” he says, and it’s sudden, but he almost pulls out all the way, only to slam back into your cunt harder, and harder again. You’re so sensitive, you’re pussy clenching and tightening up every time Aki fucks you, hits the sensitive spot inside you that makes you gasp, struggling to breathe. Your pussy was already a tiny bit sore but now it’s aching, for more, less, maybe both.  

“You can take more, baby, I know you can,” Aki says, voice raspy against your neck. And then he’s biting down, sucking at your neck hard enough to leave marks that’ll last for days. Your collarbone, the side of your throat, your jaw, Aki bites at any skin you will offer him. It’s all so much and with Aki’s thick cock inside you, it’s the only thing you could ever want. You feel brainless, just letting Aki use you until he’s done fucking your overstimulated cunt. You feel like your cunt was made purely for him to use.

Of course, you don’t even object when Aki lightly slaps you on the jaw, telling you to “open wide, need you to suck my fingers, pretty girl.” That’s exactly what you do, letting your mouth fall open while Aki presses his thumb against your lower lip, guiding in while ramming your pussy at the same time. You moan around his fingers, almost choking on your own saliva when his cock starts hitting your sweet spot over and over. The way your cunt wraps around his cock was enough to make you almost cry, but now that he’s pressing up against your g-spot, all you can do is whimper and suck desperately on his fingers.

“I’m gonna-”, fuck, you can’t even talk like this. Mouth and pussy both so full of Aki. “I’m gonna cum, please- yes, please-” it’s all you can get out, and you don’t care how pathetic you sound all choked up like this. “Need to cum, I- please, need to cum on your cock, Aki-” and he doesn’t slow down at all. Just continues splitting your abused pussy open, head of his cock rubbing up against your sweet spot hard until you’re crying and squirting around him, drool spilling down your lips while he fucks you through your orgasm hard and fast.

Your cunt twitches as Aki continues to fuck you even after, the aftershocks of your orgasm hitting you even as his thrusts grow erratic, his fingers in your mouth pressing at the back of your throat sloppily while you try not to wince. It’s too much and a part of you feels like you might cum again, but you doubt you’d be able to handle it even if you can. 

That all changes though when Aki reaches down to rub at your clit, his fingers gently rubbing your abused little nub.

“Come on, I know you can give me one more, right?” Aki breathes into your ear, “You’ve been such a good fucking girl, you deserve just one more reward, princess.” It’s not fair, you think. Aki’s been fucking you rough and hard, his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and yet he still sounds so much more composed than you. It’s not fair that he still has the coordination to rub your clit until he’s tugging a third orgasm from you tonight. All you can do is whine, grasp at the bedsheets while you cunt pulses around Aki again and again, soft whimpers leaving your lips as Aki finally reaches his own finish. 

“Fuck, baby, you’ve done so well tonight,” Aki gasps, his breath hard against your neck. You can feel the way his body tightens and relaxes, fucks you once, twice, three times, before lazily thrusting up into your cunt while he spills inside you, pushing his cum back in your hole before finally pulling out. You don’t have the energy to do anything other than lie back and try to breathe, you don’t even give a shit that Aki’s cum is leaking out of your puffy pussy, you’re too tired and nothing matters.

You’re vaguely aware of Aki moving about, leaving the bedroom to get something, probably coffee, cigarettes, maybe both. He comes back with water for you instead though, handing you a glass while you smile up at him. Or try to anyway, you’re pretty sure even your facial muscles are gone at this point.

Aki leans down to kiss your forehead, asking, “was that rough enough for you? Too much?”

You want to laugh but can’t because as usual, Aki outperforms everything you could have ever wanted. Except, “next time, I want you to make me choke on your cock. You used my pussy, so how about my throat or ass next time?”

Aki sighs, leans down kiss your neck and says “well then, I guess we’ll have to try, God, you really are a greedy girl.”

Yeah, you won’t deny that either.

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Very often I think about Sephiroth crawling in my bed and napping. Cause why not? Headcanons for Sephiroth Angeal Cloud Zack +Tseng and Rufus? if they have consistent access to your home. I doubt they’d do anything too invasive…that doesn’t go for Rufus and Tseng

————————————————————————

Zack

haven’t been paying enough attention to him he’s worried about you, you haven’t sent him your routine messages that let him know you made it to work or when you were heading home and that’s just weird. “What could be more important than thinking about me?”

Love him all you want, he’s eating your favorite snacks like a greedy little monster, it doesn’t matter if you buy enough to accommodate both of you. It takes a lot of food to fuel that man’s body, so that just means you started buying more for him to eat in addition to what he already steals right?

Doesn’t really snoop around while you’re gone but if something catches his attention he’s going to investigate. You’ll catch him with something in his hands that you haven’t seen in ages but still claims he doesn’t actually go through your things…sure buddy

Tries to straighten up messes, most of which he makes, but I dunno man. Something about Zack doesn’t scream world’s most tidy man and he doesn’t pay attention to fine detail. It’s the effort that counts right? He’ll at least take your trash out for you and clean up any obvious messes.

Will find him sprawled out on your couch waiting for you to get home, snoring and drooling all over the arm of your sofa…god he’s so fucking adorable and he’s just waiting for you to get home and cuddle him. After all you gave him a key for anything important.

Cloud

Yall know I’m making the “you like krabby patties don’t you squidward” face mhm..anyways are those most definitely your underwear in his hands that he’s so poorly trying to hide behind his back. Not to mention the underwear hanging out of his pocket. “You know Cloud,I heard you were a perv but fuck.”

After that day he didn’t use his key for a while. No, that’s not what he was there for originally. He was waiting for you to get to your home after an argument the two of you had on the phone to speak to you in person. Who knew that in his boredom his feet would led him to your drawers? There wasn’t too much to argue about anymore, not after asking if he wanted the ones on your ass too. He did and he got them off of you personally.

Will also straighten up things he sees in disarray, especially if he knows you like things a particular way. Will also feed and take care of any other needs your pet has if you have one. He gives your pet way more attention in private than he does around you.

The “Oh I fixed it” guy. If he isn’t there by the time you get back there might be a list of miscellaneous items he fixed. Eventually he stops making the lists considering you didn’t even realize what needed fixing and when, knowing that his actions are always appreciated.

Genesis

Because what more of an excuse does he need to freely enter your home than being Genesis? He’s coming to get your attention and recite Loveless to you while creating parallels between you and the words of his beloved epic.

Mad at him? Ignoring him? That’s not going to work, you better take that key back if you really don’t want him in your face. He’s not going to knock, sweet boy is coming straight in to fix whatever turmoil has risen between the two. Sometimes bearing gifts in these moments but he delivers you gifts when you’re not mad at him as well.

Noticed one thing isn’t very tidy, taken in account that perhaps you’ve been too tired or not in the best of moods lately. He’s going to end up cleaning your home just as he would keep his own. It’s the least he can do to help his darling.

Somehow makes your entire home smell like him, it’s like he has a Febreze can of himself that he sprays around the place. It’s just him spraying his cologne everywhere to mark his territory like a cat.

Sets up cute dates for when you arrive. This is especially convenient considering the two of you have such busy/conflicting schedules. Making sure to take care of anything around your home so you can solely focus on unwinding from the events of the day and on him.

Sometimes you’ll come home to fresh flowers sitting on your living room table. Along with a sickly sweet note, a quote from Loveless thrown in, and addressed to “his goddess”.

Angeal (ily break into my home pls I just wanna talk)

The master at taking care of his “beautiful liege”. Originally got a key to your home to pick up some things you needed for work but seeing the disarray of your apartment causes him to pause. It doesn’t bother him but if you needed help being taken care of you should have asked. Poor baby feels bad for not noticing that he needs to take care of you far more than he already does.

Yeah, you actually never got the things you needed for work that day. Only receiving a short text from Angeal claiming he would “be there soon”. Stepping into your home you can’t help but notice that it smells amazing. Beginning your trek to the couch toss your things down you go to step over some books that you swear were going to get picked up two weeks ago. Looking around you can’t help but notice the whole apartment is spotless. No longer able to hold the irritation you held with Angeal for bailing on you earlier, as you realize why he never showed up.

He refuses to give you back “his” your key after this. He won’t enter without your permission of course, even if you’re home, the man’s polite after all. Certainly wont go through your things unlike Cloud and Zack but can often be found curled up in your bed if it takes a while for you to get home.

You already know this man is cooking for you, normally timing when he’ll finish a meal with the time you get home so it’s fresh cause he “needs the best for his baby”. He’ll also do things like having a bath running for you, will join if you want him to, he’ll wash you up himself since you “shouldn’t have to lift another finger today”. Once again due to such a busy and conflicting schedule this is the easiest routine for you two.

Sometimes it seems like he lives there, seemingly spending more time at your place than at his own. Which is just fine with him, home is where his heart belongs, and his heart belongs with you.

Sephiroth (the cutest one idk i usually write my favorite one last but between Angeal, Seph and Rufus+Tseng idk) {After Genesis goes missing to highlight his emotional state}

To say the look on that man’s face was stressed was an understatement. As you walked into his office, immediately asking our dear Sephi what was wrong. Not one to go into too much detail Sephiroth explains he’d just like to be alone. That right now everything is a bit much for him to deal with and he doesn’t want to be found “unless it’s by you”. Prompting you to offer up your apartment, knowing nobody would look for him there.

Hesitant to accept your offer because he doesn’t want to intrude or make himself an inconvenience to you. A statement that makes you roll your eyes because Sephiroth could never be a bother. It doesn’t take much convincing for him take your keys and disappear from the Shinra building.

When you get home Sephiroth you can tell he’s made himself at home. His shirtless form opens the door for you, giving you a quick kiss and asking how your day has been. Noting that he looks a bit more well rested than he did earlier. As you walk around you can kind of tell what he’s been up to, a few of your books are sitting on the couch along with his laptop. Nothing out of the ordinary really, asking what he’s been up to and if he’s feeling better.

Scooping you up in his arms he carries you to the bedroom, stating that he’s just been “waiting for you”. Giggling at the sight of your bed you gawk at him asking “did you make a pillow fort?!” He actually looks a little prideful when he tells you he did and that “the structural integrity is absolutely astounding.” He’ll only let you leave the fort for good reasons, either food or the bathroom seems to be the only things he lets you get up for so far.

In the morning you give him a spare key, telling him to feel free to use it whenever. And that he does, the next day finding him cocooned in your blankets on the couch. The only thing you can see is his beautiful green eyes peeking at you from his nest of blankets. Hiding in your home definitely becomes a routine for him, only going to his own for clothes and whatever other items he may need. Spending a few nights at his own place every so often to give you space (that you never needed he just worries). Just a few nights every so often though cause why does he need to be there “when everything I want is here”

Rufus+Tseng (they’re definitely a package deal, can’t tell me otherwise) ffff-hi Reno you weren’t supposed to be here but my mind has now put you here

You certainly didn’t give these guys access to your home. Walking through your apartment after a long day, to what you thought was going to be a relaxing evening. Instead being greeted by a massive guard hound, well that wasn’t on your schedule but it seemed to get penciled in “what the fuck is that?” You can’t help but spit out, reaching for your pistol only to be interrupted by a foreign voice

“Now don’t be rude Y/N. The things you just got done doing are far more terrifying than my DarkStar.” Your eyes immediately darting around to find the owner of that voice- Who is this pretty blonde fuck sitting on your couch? Legs crossed, arm propped against the arm rest with his head held up by his hand. It’s almost like he’s trying to look as disinterested as possible in…whatever it was they were here for.

Not to mention the guy standing beside him, long black hair pulled back neatly…yeah, that’s just screaming to be pulled. Drawing his weapon the minute you reached for your own, telling you to drop it and to step towards them slowly. As you start taking steps towards the duo your arm is grabbed and being twisted behind your back. Their chest rumbling against your back as they chuckle.

“Oh, this one is so cute. How do we feel about ‘em bossman?” craning your neck to get a look at your assailant, being greeted by a red head with a goofy grin on his face. My god he was easy on the eyes as well. Sporting a suit similar to the raven haired man, his shirt unbuttoned, leaving his chest deliciously exposed. If it weren’t obvious you were in danger you might’ve thought you were in for a treat. Jumping a bit as his other hand starts roaming your body. Letting out a chuckle as Reno speaks stating that he’s “just checking for weapons, ya know how it goes. Unless..” his tone turning flirtatious to be cut off swiftly by Tseng, requesting you take a seat.

Reno, as the gentleman he is, assists you in your seat. All but shoving you down as he leaves his hands resting on your shoulders. You make it clear not to him “mishandle the merchandise” only for him to tell you he “can do better later.” Quickly shutting down the interaction between Reno and yourself finally asking who they were and why they were here. Rufus does a majority of the talking he is the center of attention of course, going into detail about how the Turks have been tracking you for the past year. Going through the list of atrocities you’ve committed along with some pretty damning evidence.

“Wow, you kill a few people and now the government is breaking into your home? I don’t know if this is really warranted.” At that comment you receive a rather pointed glance from Tseng and a raised eyebrow from Rufus. Finally getting to the point after Tseng lectures you on how this is a serious matter and there’s no time to play. They offer you a job with them, “redemption” as Rufus called it. While sure you’re a criminal, you indirectly solved a lot of their problems and you’re the final loose end they needed secured. “Or, you can go back to prison, but this time for the rest of your life.”

Though Tseng made it clear, if you can’t pass their training and be a successful member of the Turks you’ll be going prison anyway. Your smarts and ability to have snuck through the system this long is what got their attention drawn to you, well Rufus’ attention. Tseng thinks picking up “low-life criminals” to join their forces is far below them. Besides, they don’t really need you anyways, they just want you.

————————————————————————

Crying cause I hate I can tell when I first started writing this and when I finally found it and finished. Saving things to drafts seems like a dangerous game I won’t be playing again. I couldn’t think of anything to add to characters I already wrote for. Definitely making the last hc something bigger and is now main priority.

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 1

I fully intended to put out the next part of Well Met, but I got a really bad cold and didn't get far enough into the next chapter to post it, so I'm putting out this one. It's based on this idea here. It is spoilery, so if you don't want to be spoiled, you can read it after the story is done.

I've tagged my regulars as well as those that expressed interest in the original post. If you don't want to be tagged in future parts, just DM me and I'll remove you.

Eddie IS in this just not for awhile. And Steve does have sex with other OCs, the only sex shown will be between Eddie and Steve.

Summary: Steve is an escort with Starcourt Services, who provides omegas to alphas with the money for all sorts of accommodations: arm candy at social events, rut servicing, multiples (including orgies), and sometimes, just sex. Steve is highly sought after, but after a run in with Corroded Coffin frontman Eddie Munson at a fundraiser for a US senator, his world is turned upside down.

No monsters/omegaverse AU. Rockstar Eddie/Sex Worker Steve. Mature (especially in later chapters).

****

When Steve presented as an omega at the age of sixteen his parents were thrilled. They were going to throw lavish parties of all the best alphas in the state. Well, the appropriate ones, anyway. The good ones from conservative families of wealth and breeding.

Steve wasn’t looking forward to any of it. Which is why he breathed a sigh of relief when the doctors tested his fertility they told him he was infertile.

There was a couple other tests they could have preformed but his parents weren’t having it. How dare he be infertile! How were they going to recoup the cost of having an omega for a son, if he couldn’t have been an alpha?

The doctors informed them they had three choices. To the Church where he would be celibate and never seen or heard from again. This is what his mother wanted, but the Church wouldn’t give the money they so desperately wanted.

The second option was as a nursemaid for wealthy omegas who didn’t want to breastfeed their own pups. It had no real financial security because it was dependent on the elite needing a nursemaid in the first place. As callous as the Harringtons were, they didn’t want him to starve.

The final option was Starcourt Services. An elite escort service that would buy infertile omegas to pimp out to single alphas. They had a whole range of services. Rut servicing, gang bang and multiples (including orgies), and cherry popping.

The last one was how the Harringtons would get their money. Whatever the bid price was for an alpha deflowering Steve would be how much they would get for him. Then Steve would work for Starcourt until it was paid off. Then it would be up to Steve to decide what he wanted to do after that.

Most omegas would then go into nurturing fields, like teachers, nurses, and counseling. Not all of them did though, there were some really famous omega escorts in their fifties and sixties. Not even the best paid actors and musicians got paid as much as these escorts. They were lavished with everything they could ever want. Clothes, jewelry, trips to anywhere in the world. You name it, they got it. And they were paid handsomely by Starcourt on top of all that.

There was this really famous male omega simply called Roxie that Steve had on a poster on his wall. His contract had been offered to be bought out a record number of twenty-seven times during his career. People like politicians and diplomats, rockstars and A-listers, the elite and the powerful. Rumor had that one of the princes of Saudi Arabia had offered three times, but Roxie turned them all down.

Steve wanted to be just like him. But he knew that if he voiced that he would be whisked away to the monastery before he could even blink. So threw his lot with wet nurse lot. Saying that it wouldn’t be that bad, he could still save money to go to school and become a teacher.

It was the teacher part that really got Clint Harrington. No Harrington omega had ever been a teacher in their great history and he was going to let his son become the first.

So Starcourt it was.

When he turned eighteen he would be sold off to the highest bidder to take his virginity.

When the time came, Steve was one of the highest cherries ever sold by Starcourt to the tune of one million dollars. His parents went away with their money and Steve got his back blown by a thirty year old pop princess alpha, who still hires Steve to service her ruts on occasion if she’s in town.

*

Steve loved his job. What he loved even more than that was his beta handler, Robin.

“Hello!” he greeted warmly as she slip into his penthouse suite in the morning with his favorite coffee and muffins.

“Good morning!” Robin greeted back. “How was your night with Sir Kensington the third?”

Steve shrugged. “Boring. I loved the gala, but he just kept going on and on about how his estates had a water drainage problem and it kept flooding the basement. The first time I was sympathetic, the second time I was sincere, all the times after that? I could barely keep my eyes open! And! It strictly social, no sex. I would have tolerated it if there was at least the promise of mediocre sex afterwards.”

Robin winced. “Do you want him on your black list?” she asked, pulling out her tablet.

“Yes, please,” Steve said, pulling on a silk robe and sliding out of bed. “Send the usual black orchids and note.”

Robin nodded, making a note on her tablet. “And what do you want it to say?”

“When you take out a premier escort learn better material then irrigation. It was an irritation. If you want that kind of talk, get a mate for fuck’s sake. Passionately, S. Harrington.”

“Ooh,” Robin said with a grin. “It’s bitchy, succinct, and the most beautiful fuck you imaginable.”

Steve grinned back at her. “Thanks. I do so love to be bitchy. So what’s on my docket this week?”

“So you have a rut servicing with movie star Dillon Forrest starting tomorrow,” she said going through his schedule. “His ruts last three to four days and tends to get hungry right around day two. He hates cereal and protein bars or anything that ‘tastes like dirt’.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “As if that isn’t subjective as hell. And of course he doesn’t like the one thing that is the easiest to eat while literally out of his god damned mind.”

Robin hummed in agreement. “I’d try shakes, toss the protein powder in that.”

Steve nodded. “Make sure he’s house is stocked with fresh fruits and vegetables. Add some steaks or whatever to throw him off the scent. I’ll pack the protein powder in my kit.”

She nodded. “Next, you have the New Yorker charity gala with journalist Nancy Wheeler. She wants you in a tux, so I send in Pedro with your tuxes. Her dress is a metallic gold sequin slip dress with black lining.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I hate it when she wears metallic colors, it makes me looked washed out in comparison.”

“Sometimes I think she does it on purpose,” Robin groused.

Steve sighed. Nancy and he had dated briefly in high school before he presented as an omega and she an alpha. She actually had a mate, but Steve looked better on her arm at galas and charity events. That and her mate, Jonathan didn’t like the attention. He preferred to be behind the camera and not in front of it.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” he said. “Put her on the pre-check list.”

Robin nodded. The pre-check list was a way to give the escorts a chance to decline an offer before it was set in stone. Usually the handler did that, but there were some cases where an alpha would pull shit like what Nancy did it was good for the omega to get a feeling of the event before the contract was set.

“Wear the dark blue jewel tone jacket with the black button up. That will prevent you from looking washed out, it’ll complement the dress and you get to one up your ex.”

Steve grinned. “Thank you, darling!” He leaped up and kissed her cheek. “You’re the best.”

“Also a heads up about the gala,” Robin said. “Tommy’s been tapped to escort talk show host Billy Hargrove.”

Steve flopped on the sofa dramatically. “Argh! Tommy’s going to be insufferable.”

Robin nodded. Tommy and Steve were “rival” escorts (it was mostly in Tommy’s head) who competed for the best clients. A three-time Emmy award winning talk show host was more “prestigious” then a one-time Pulitzer winning investigative reporter. Especially since that reporter was Steve’s ex.

“And with Nancy trying to sabotage my look for the night, he’s going to be gloating the whole time!” Steve continued.

“Well, thankfully you have a handler that thinks of these things before hand,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. “If Tommy gets in your face about it, ask Billy when was the last time he had person of color as a guest.”

Steve sat up on the sofa. “He’s never had, as far as I’m aware.”

Robin shook her head. “He does the ‘pandering’ thing around award season to make sure the Academy doesn’t notice his blatant racism.”

“Oh,” Steve said, his eyes glittering with mischief, “that would be a terrible embarrassment if someone were to bring that up at gala for people in news hosted by a black alpha, wouldn’t?”

Robin grinned. “It would be a damn shame.”

“You really are my platonic soulmate!” He jumped off the couch and flounced off to the bathroom. “Anything else for this week?”

Robin shook her head. “The schedulers were wanting to keep this week a bit thin because of how busy next week will be.”

Steve glared over his shoulder. “Don’t remind me. Two multiples and a rut servicing.”

“At least the first one is just a threesome,” Robin said with a wince. “Two alphas that want a cute little omega to freshen up their sex lives without looking to bond.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, but the other is some manager of a rock band ordering a gang bang for them because their shitty song went gold or platinum or whatever.”

Robin grimaced. “Yeah, that is pretty tacky. What’s worse is that they are all alphas.”

Steve dropped his robe with a heavy sigh. “Who’s the rut for?”

Robin looked through her tablet again. “Oh well that’s something at least. It’s Lonnie Goodwin.”

“That is a relief,” Steve said, shimmying out of his white silk briefs. “Lonnie’s good for a laugh. Do you want me to see if I can get you and Vickie tickets to his next Netflix special?”

Robin lit up. “Hell yes. He’s Vickie’s favorite comedian and her birthday is coming up next month.”

“Done, darling.”

He got into the shower and turned on the water as hot as it would go. He needed to warm up his muscles to be nice and limber. He got out and dressed in exercise clothes to go for a run. He put in his earbuds and turned up his music. He stretched and warmed up before heading out.

Walking out of his apartment building, he waved goodbye the doorman, Keith and set off down the road. He was listening to the band who was requesting the gang bang. Steve knew that the best way to get over an awkward beginning was to talk about things they were interested in.

So as part of his prep leading up to a client Steve liked to go through their social media, if they were famous any interviews they’ve done. Watch any movies or shows they’ve been in. Just really diving deep into their lives so that it was less a transaction and more like a date.

It was why Steve was so sought after, he never made his clients feel shame for hiring him.

Unfortunately that didn’t always go both ways. An escort at its core was still a sex worker and people still had problems with those. Even the ones doing the hiring of said escort.

But that’s why each escort had a handler. A beta that could come in and break up anything that might go wrong. Which is Steve loved Robin. He had seen her take down a raging alpha like it was a Sunday afternoon walk in the park. She looked thin and scrawny, but she was scrappy and tenacious.

When he came back from his run he showered again to get clean and then he slipped into some comfortable clothes to lounge around in. He could have done anything today. The Starcourt management team was intent on making sure their omegas had plenty of time between clients to rest, shop, hang out with their friends.

Starcourt omegas were some of the best kept omegas in the country, and it showed.

Steve would have done those other things if tomorrow wasn’t a rut servicing. They tended to be heavy on the exhausting side. Both physically and emotionally.

Because despite being infertile, they still experienced all the things that fertile omega did. Scenting, bonding, heats all came with being an omega whether you had the capability to have pups or not. There were always going to be times an artificial bond would occur, even with all the blockers they were on.

The bond would fade after a couple of days, but it was still hard on the omega when it happened.

Half way through his binge watching of the latest Netflix K-drama, Pedro came in with the tuxedos. They were blue jewel tones of varying shades and styles.

Once they had decided on a short jacket and necktie combo, his assistant Janica came in with accessories to chose from. Once everything was picked out, they went away again.

He debated going out to eat over making himself dinner. A couple of the omega escorts he knew had a professional chef, Tommy chief among them, but he liked to cook his own meals.

He decided to go out to eat, because he was going to be locked up in a room for the next few days and needed to get out for bit.

He got dressed in his favorite blue jeans, a blank tank top, and white short sleeved button up, that was left unbuttons. He pulled on his Nike’s and grabbed his cell phone and keys.

There was a taxi waiting for him by the time he got to the lobby. He loved his job.

He picked a nice restaurant near his place and sat down for a damn fine hamburger and fries.

At the end of the meal the waiter came up to him.

“Just charge the Starcourt account,” Steve said with a wave of his hand.

The waiter’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to do as he was told.

Steve left a hundred dollar tip on the table and then wandered back to the front of the restaurant where the same taxi took him back to his building. Where he finished the series with a tub of cookie dough ice cream.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

So much world building in this. Which is why it takes so long to get to Eddie. But have no fear, none of what I'm putting in the next chapters is fluff. It will all make sense once we get to the Eddie chapters.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @lingeringmirth @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr

[lucrativesoul]

one of my favorite headcanon tropes is roommate!leon. friends to lovers brainrot anyone?

Leon would start out reserved until you two became comfortable with each other. He’s normally quiet anyway, as you have come to learn, but you also learned that comfortable meant him not being afraid to sit a little too close to you just because it’s cozy for him.

Food is his comfort item. This was discovered very fast. (“Leon, I just bought this whole box of cheez-its two days ago. I didn’t even have any!” “Leon, those were my gummy worms. I would have bought you some.” Once you learned to accommodate his black hole stomach, you found it oddly fun to cook for him, he was always looking to try new recipes.)

He would become overly friendly and caring when he wants something from you. 9 times out of 10, it was because he was hungry. (The one time was when he just wanted company late at night and couldn’t sleep.)

He would always have the courtesy to ask you if something he is doing would bother you, even if it is something you barely even noticed. (“Is my music too loud?” “Should I move my stuff off the table?”)

Leon would slowly start learning your every day routine. What you did on early mornings, how you set up meals around a work or class schedule, and what time you tend to go to bed. He found himself adapting his own around yours, keeping peaceful company unless you were in your room, door closed.

Sometimes, Leon would come home late from work. He tried as best as he could to be quiet so you could stay asleep, but he would always walk into something. It would prompt you to then walk out of your room and just stare at him. (“Leon, really?” “I… I’m sorry, I don’t know how the kitchen table got right there.” You were already awake and waiting for him to come home, but you liked seeing him stumble over himself to apologize to you.)

Once Leon had gotten word that he would be going on prolonged work missions, you could see he was guilty about leaving you alone. You comforted him as best you could, but you were often lonely without his presence. You did lots of cat ownership contemplating during those times.

While he was mostly a heavy sleeper, and could fall asleep anywhere, there were times you would wake up to noise in the kitchen. You would investigate to find him rummaging through the cabinets, looking for snacks. (“I thought you said you bought more cheez-its.” “I did, Leon. You ate them.” “Oh.” “Come on, there’s some in my room. I was hiding them from you, but you can take them.”)

Leon’s love language was very much quality time. You knew his job was stressful, and your schedule was often not fixed, so on the nights you were both home, he wanted to be in your presence, whether it be watching something together, or doing your own thing in the same room. He didn’t want those nights to end, because it always meant you had to go back to your own room. (You didn’t want these nights to end, and you wish Leon would just tell you that you can fall asleep in his room.)

No matter what the temperature is in the house, it seems like it never bothers him, or rather that he gets hot way too fast. This man is seen more often without a shirt than with one, not that it was totally a nuisance to you. You knew he was more observant than he led on to be, so you only let yourself look at his body when he is turned around. (“Leon, I’m in a sweatshirt, and you are half naked. Clearly one of us is wrong about the temperature here.” “Well, it’s not me.”)

Leon grew on you really fast. You knew you made a good choice in roommates after the first time Leon detected your bad mood and did whatever he could to make you happy. (“Gummy worms? Thanks, Leon. I’m surprised you didn’t eat these already.” “I was definitely going to. But you need them more than me.” He definitely snuck a few while you ate them.)

a/n: today is my birthday! take these little headcanons that I'm always thinking about while I finish the other fic and start some more :) does anyone else need a friends to lovers roommates au now... (cause i do) (thank you again for the support on my first fic. the pressure to please is high but i’m excited for my next fics!)

[bi-writes]

in silence | the mandalorian

it is in the silence of us that i know where we are.

type: one-shot word count: 10k (holy moly im sorry) pairing: the (dark?)mandalorian x afab!fem!reader warnings: mature language and content, mature (but soft) written sexual content (read at your own discretion), 🔞⚠️ summary: you are unable to spend another day without the mandalorian knowing how you truly feel. complete masterlist

It was quiet, for the first time in a long time. Quiet in the sense that there was no noise around you. There was no hum of a ship, no loud sounds of alarms or radio transmissions from far acquaintances or the press and click of buttons and levers and lights. No, at this moment, it was quiet. The only sound was the slight whirr of wind outside and the gentle sigh leaving you. It was peace, and it was quiet; so why didn’t you like it?

You looked down into your lap, smoothing your hands over your legs. It was too quiet for your taste, perhaps? No, that wasn’t it. Quiet was good; but it was this quiet that wasn’t good.

You had gotten very used to having a presence at your side. For a long while now, a towering, heavy wall was your shadow. They did not speak much; in fact, for the months you had spent sitting beside them, you thought perhaps you could count the amount of words they said to you on both hands. While that was a stretch, it didn’t ignore the fact that the words spoken between you were usually from you and you only.

The helmet was his way of communicating. A slight tilt to the side, a heavy nod, a firm stare. You had become accustomed to this way of speaking, and you even were able to read his silence. Sometimes if you asked a question, he said nothing at all. You recently realized that you knew if his answer was yes or no just by the feel of the air around him. He seemed to realize that, too, and he seemed content at the fact that he could speak to you without speaking at all. It was a quiet, comfortable companionship; a quiet that you adored. A quiet that, at this very moment, you missed very much.

A shared quiet. A quiet that I spend with him, and only him, staring into the stars and wondering where he’ll take me next.

Will we be here a few more days? A quiet linger, a gentle sigh. You understood, preparing yourself to settle down for a little longer. Did you find what you were looking for? Nothing said, but he flicked several switches on the console in front of him with ease, very sure of his movements, and you smiled as you sat beside him. He had indeed found what he had been searching for. Is it okay if I borrow this? No response, but his absence of a protest meant you could do as you pleased.

That quiet was bliss.

You stood up from the small bed you were occupying. You found refuge at a local inn, and he had given you your own room. You had given him wide, wet eyes at this realization. You were rarely apart from him, and when you were, you were left in the protection of his ship, one that had yet to fail you. When you had climbed the mud clay stairs to the lodgings, he made it obvious that your room was right beside his. It was a silent declaration of if you need me, I am beside you. He had even slipped a small device into your hand, one curved in a way that could fit snugly in your ear. Communication, even if you only had to walk a few feet to his door. You looked at the device now, sitting on the bedside table, and your heart ached a bit. He thought of every fear you might have, and he accommodated each one of them.

He would not be far away from you; his room was beside yours. You would not have to sleep without saying goodnight to him; he had left a way into his ear in your hand.

You slipped the blankets back from the bed, getting inside of it. It was a comfortable bed, but you still were not at ease. You wanted to see him. In the dark, sometimes you saw flashes of lights as the buttons and panels of his ship reflected off his armor. It always put you at ease. Now, you stared into complete darkness, with nothing but an ugly quietness that left you breathing shallowly. You reached for the device on the table, fitting it into your ear.

A small beep sounded in your ear, a sound to indicate the connection had been made. You closed your eyes, biting your lip hard.

“Are you still here?” You asked suddenly, very softly. If he was asleep, you hoped your soft voice would not startle him. It was silent for a few long moments, and you sat up as the panic already started to flood your insides.

“Yes.”

You sighed a deep breath of relief, laying back down. “Are you crazy?” You breathed. “Why didn’t you answer me sooner? Geez…”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head as you brought the blankets back up. You wished he had just gotten one room with two beds, you wished you had said something; but you supposed even Mandalorians needed their privacy. You supposed he might have wanted to take off his armor and breathe in fresh air, and guilt crept in you as you thought about how your intrusion of his space probably kept him from being at ease, completely at ease.

“Are you alright?”

His voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you swallowed hard.

“No,” you whispered. You wanted to be honest. You weren’t capable of lying to him. He would know if you were lying, anyways. “I hate it here.”

There was a slight pause. “Are…is the room not to your liking?” He asked. He sounded confused and unsure of himself. He thought he had found a place that seemed comfortable enough for you. He had left a few days prior to find somewhere he deemed appropriate.

“The room is fine,” you said softly. It wasn’t the room. You could sleep on the cold dirt floor just fine, without complaining. “I just…” You closed your eyes tight, squeezing your eyes shut. “I…I’m not used to being without you. I’m…I’m sorry.”

You winced at how pathetic that sounded. Not used to being without him? You had slept many nights without him. You weren’t sure how to voice what you were feeling inside.

“No, I’ve…” You laughed nervously. “I’ve been without you a lot, it’s just…” You took a deep breath, but you hated how shaky it was breathed out. “This place is new, and I’m…I-I—”

“It is safe here,” he interrupted you. You brought the blankets up more, over your face.

“Can…” You turned over onto your side, clutching the blankets to your chest. “Can you get us a room together next time?” You asked quietly. You hoped he would understand the heaviness in your tone. It was your unspoken plea to tell him that you needed him.

There was a long pass of silence, but it was one you were used to. He hummed lowly, but not in a bad way. He was acknowledging your worry, you anxiety, the discomfort you felt without him.

“I miss you,” you said suddenly, your voice clear and soft. “That’s all.”

He did not reply. You smiled to yourself at the comfortable silence. You had no way of knowing how heavy his heart felt, the ache inside of him. Being away from you, even though you were only separated by a thin wall, had him on edge. He enjoyed where your sleeping quarters were on his ship; he could see you always, and this line of sight comforted him to no end. With you apart, there was a voice in him that almost convinced him to take to the wall and break it down just to relax your worries.

“Places are not safe, Mandalorian,” you continued. “You…you are.”

Your eyelids drooped, your conscious slipping a bit as you relaxed into the bed. Knowing he was listening to you made you feel the warm, familiar togetherness that you normally felt with him.

“You make me feel safe,” you finished groggily. It was the last thing you said before drifting off. He said nothing on the other end, but he knew you were asleep when he heard the evenness of your breath. He did not take the device out of his ear. He refused to, in fact, and he had been wearing it all night to make sure he would be able to hear you if you needed him. He closed his own eyes so he could let your words melt into him. He wanted to remember these words forever.

He was never going to get separate rooms ever again. He would appease any request of yours. He did not think he was capable of refusing any wish of yours; not when you asked him in that honeyed voice of yours.

When it was morning, you awoke to the bright sunlight that came in through the window. It was right in your eyes, and you turned over to move away from it. You looked at one of the screens in the room, touching it to reveal the time. It was early in the morning, earlier than the time he had told you to be awake, but you felt rested enough. You didn’t want to be away from him any longer.

You got out of bed and rummaged through your bag for something to wear. You picked out an unfitted white dress, just long enough to skim the tops of your thighs. The sleeves were fitted until your elbows, and then they belled out until the end of your wrist. You grabbed a dark pair of pants to put on underneath and reached for the leather thigh holster you wore over it, and then you bent down to tie up your boots. You had many dresses, but your wardrobe quickly adapted to the lifestyle you now led. The countless times you needed a quick getaway, to bolt into a fast sprint, to face a new adversary, were endless, and simply wearing a dress quickly became unfit for life with a Mandalorian. He had given you the holster you now wore and suggested these pair of boots; you had cooed at him when he bought them for you, and you remembered being restless when he secured the holster on your thigh for the first time.

You always pretended you didn’t know how to secure the holster. You enjoyed the way he was careful to put it on you. You had seen him do this for you every day; if he knew you were lying every time you told him you needed his help to secure the leather, he never said so. Perhaps he wanted to do it for you; maybe he even liked it.

The dress was not fitted to your frame, so you reached into your bag for the leather corset there. You held the corset and the holster in hand before leaving the room, making the short way to his door. You raised your hand, knocking gently on the metal of the door.

“Are you awake?” You asked, shifting from boot to boot as you waited for him to answer you. The door suddenly slid open, making you jump a bit backwards. Before you could fall back enough, a leather glove shot out and held your waist to keep you still. You smiled sheepishly, laughing a bit as he brought you closer. “You’re awake,” you nodded to yourself. Your eyes trailed up gleaming beskar to his helmet, where you looked into the dark visor and smiled wider. You held up the leather items in your hand, tilting your head to the side. His hand had yet to move from your waist. “I was hoping…you could help me.”

It was your usual morning routine. You padded into his room, and his door shut behind you. You noticed, for the first time, that he had yet to put all of his armor on. A pauldron and his belt of shiny rifle rounds and small detonators lay on the bed, and you turned to face him once you did your once-over of his room. He just stared at you, and you moved the items to the side before taking a seat on his bed. He took a chair from the side of the room and placed it in front of you, taking a seat as he took a hold of the thigh holster. You scooted closer to him, lifting your leg for him. He took it into his hands, laying it over his lap as he wrapped the straps around your thigh.

You leaned back on the palms of your hands as he did this. You watched him carefully, your eyes gentle as he worked of the leather straps through its belt buckle, securing it. The Mandalorian was in a well-acquainted place. This procedure was as it always was, and his movements were methodical. He was easily able to find the notch of the belt that he usually put the prong through. The leather was worn there more than the other notches, and it was so familiar the way he secured the strap and pulled on it to make sure it would not come undone. He continued with the next strap.

The silence was warm again. The setting was different, but you were still spending your morning with the Mandalorian, getting dressed with him.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked. He did not respond, still focused on pulling on another secured strap. You reached over gently, putting your fingers on the chin of his helmet and using enough pressure to make him look at you. Perhaps he wasn’t looking at you, but the visor made it seem so. He gave a curt nod, and you hummed with a smile. “I’m glad.”

He finished securing the holster, smoothing a gloved hand down the length of your leg before letting it fall back from his lap. You wished he would’ve kept you there, but he reached over and picked up the corset from your lap, standing to help you put it on. You didn’t completely register the fact that the Mandalorian was touching you; his hands had slid down your leg, he had held you close to him as he had secured the leather to you. He was touching you, more than necessary, and if you had been thinking correctly, you would have realized the significance of it. You weren’t; you were distracted by watching his broad frame sit so close to you, care for you, help you.

You stood up, your eyes now level with the bottom of his helmet. You looked up, keeping this moment still. You stared into the visor for a long while, and then you finally turned your back to him, lifting your arms a bit so he could fit the leather around your middle. You helped move the corset into place. It was comfortable, just a structured piece of leather solely to act as a fashionable overlay. You had, however, sewn a fibrous piece of flexible armor on the inside of it to protect you. Many times, it had stopped an angry blade from sinking into your side.

You let out a soft breath as the Mandalorian put a finger between the first set of laces and tugged firmly, tightening it. You put your hands on the front of the leather to keep it in place as he started to tighten more laces at your back.

Neither of you ever spoke about this routine. It was intimate. In the early hours of morning, with few words spoken, you would get ready for the day together. Fastening armor, tying dresses, fixing holsters, slipping weapons into place; it was a scheduled dance that you both were very used to, and no matter what events had transpired in the hours before, in the sleep or anger of the night, you always got up in the morning and had something for him to fix onto your person. Sometimes, it was just the holster. Other times it was your dress, or you would pretend to struggle with securing your blaster in your belt. In truth, you needed an excuse for the Mandalorian to touch you. He was pure and professional and respectful, always. You had found a loophole in his never-faltering demeanor. It was gearing up, getting dressed, tripping over your feet in front of him. In those times, his touch was never hesitant, nor did it ever shake. His touch was faith and security, supportive and strong.

His touch is fire, and I am ice, and even though it burns, I want more.

You remembered a night long ago; you had gotten hurt because you let your guard down. An ugly bruise had been blooming on your jaw, and he had scolded you like a child, angry that he had to turn his back away from his quarry and get to you. He had trusted you to keep yourself safe, and now he was coming to your aid in the middle of securing an important bounty, a valuable one. You remembered sitting on your bed that night, with tears in your eyes. You had not been hurt by his words and your wounds did not ache; you were embarrassed and feeling miserable that you had let him down. But in the morning, when the suns came out again, he had reached over and secured your holster just as he always did. He had gone slower, soothing your leg with soft touches and squeezes, and when he finished, you felt those gloved knuckles skimming the bruise on your jaw so softly. It had been his silent apology, and the tension simply evaporated when you leaned forward, your cheek against his cuirass as you hugged him.

It was a touch that kept you awake at night. It was a touch that made your skin hot and your toes curl and your brain liquify until all your thoughts were only him and the leather hands he had on you. Even now, with his dexterous hands fixing your outfit, you knew your legs were weakening. The Mandalorian was pure death and smoke in one terrifying hunter, but you had never, ever been afraid. He only made you feel pure desire and unfaltering reassurance.

“This is my favorite part of the day,” you said into the quiet. The Mandalorian continued without pausing, and your breath hitched a bit as he pulled particularly rough on the next set of laces. “It’s…quiet, and…” You looked out the window at the sun rising higher, telling you it was getting later into the morning. “—and it’s just us.”

You let your hands fall to your sides when he had tied most of your corset. You bent down and picked up his pauldron off the bed. The beskar was shiny and incredibly heavy in your hands. It looked freshly polished, and you smiled at the thought of the Mandalorian seated on this bed, a careful hand rubbing a cloth between the crevices of his armor. He was simple, and he did not need much to keep himself together. His armor and his weapons; the Mandalorian needed little more to thrive.

He tied off the last of the laces at your back, his hands smoothing around to touch your waist. It was his way of telling you he had finished. You turned in his grasp, meeting his visor again. You tilted your head to the side a bit, training your eyes on the dark material there. You thought maybe if you stared long enough, squinted hard enough, you might be able to see his eyes, but there was nothing but your sweet face staring back in a distorted reflection. You knew you had his eyes though, since he was unmoving and quiet.

You reached up carefully, breaking eye contact as you lifted the pauldron to his shoulder. You fit it where you thought it might go, moving it around gently until it seemed to drop into place. You heard a satisfied clicking sound that told you that his armor was in its place, and then you smoothed your hand over the front of his chest plate. You stared up at him again for just a moment before reaching behind yourself and picking up his heavy belt of ammunition. His hands left yours to help you, putting the belt around his waist as you brought the strap over his helmet to sit across his front. As he fastened it around his waist, you fixed it to sit properly around his neck. You realized that the strap and his cape were tangled together now, and you laughed a bit sheepishly as you had to lean on him to fix it properly. There were many things the Mandalorian was, but unkempt armor and imperfect dressing was not one of them. You wondered now if perhaps you had gotten him dressed in the wrong order, but he had yet to correct you.

Some of the slots for his rifle rounds were empty, so you simply reached into his open pack on the bedside table and grabbed a handful of them. It was a blissful calm as you began to refill the vacant slots carefully.

“I like it when it’s just us,” you murmured. You fit another round into its place, laughing a bit. “I know it doesn’t make sense. We don’t really…talk,” you shrugged a bit. “But you…you know so much about me already. And…I…” You kept your hands busy, too nervous to meet where you thought his eyes might be. “I-I would like to think that I know a lot about you.”

You might not have known his name. You might not have known his favorite song or where he came from or what the soft words were that he whispered when he was asleep meant, but you hoped that your observations were enough that you knew him in ways that others did not. In danger, you would curl knowingly around his defensive side without being told. He could tilt his helmet just right at you, and you would know if he wanted you to stay or to go. If he used his hands a certain way, if he reached for an extra bite of rations, if he stepped fast or slow or sideways, these were all ways you had learned to observe him and gauge his mood and memorize his likes and dislikes. You had an unspoken, unwritten bond, one that no amount of distance or separation or time apart could break.

“You do,” The Mandalorian admitted. His voice was low and careful. “You know…you know more about me than anyone else.”

You finished refilling his belt with ammunition, and you looked up at him through your lashes, biting your lip gently.

“Is that right, Mandalorian?” You asked, keeping your hands on his chest. The metal was cold under your fingertips; your skin was too hot. He simply moved his helmet just enough to tell you yes, you know me unlike any other being in the galaxy.

You stood on your toes, one hand leaving his chest to cup the underside of his helmet, your lips close to where his ear might be. “You don’t let just anyone put on your beskar?”

He nearly choked on his breath at the tone of your voice. Low, sultry, cooing as it sang along the edge of want and desire. He slid his hands up your back, his fingers ghosting over the laces of your corset he had just tied nice and tight. He moved his head just slightly, angling his neck to get a better view of the knowing expression on your face. You were smug, as if you knew what you were doing to him. As if you knew your words were absolute fire and smoke, and you had just pierced his heart head-on with it. He shook his head slightly to answer you, and he leaned in even closer, the front of his helmet skimming the plush curve of your bottom lip.

“I don’t let just anyone take it off, either.”

Oh.

Your knees nearly buckled at the admission. You swallowed hard, your hand curling around the neck of his cape. You gripped him tightly to keep from collapsing, your mouth suddenly dry and completely devoid of a quick comeback. You stared at him, mouth agape as you registered his retort. He liked this reaction from you. He was never completely confident that he had an effect over you, but the way your body clung to his for support just by a few choice words told him there was a warmth in you that rivaled his own.

“Well,” you laughed breathily, in disbelief almost. You stepped even closer, your hips suddenly flush against his. “Was that…are you flirting with me?”

You broke out into the brightest smile, leaning back a bit to get a better look at him. He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling steadily, staring down at you as piercing as ever. You adored him like this; you always wanted his attention on you and only you.

“The Mandalorian flirting…” You bit your lip. “I like it.”

He tilted his head to the side, and you giggled, getting up on your toes to press a kiss to where you hoped his mouth was under the helmet. You nuzzled your nose against the metal for a moment before moving back. You took a step or two back away from him, his hands forced to fall from your waist. Your hands never let go of his though, and you squeezed his palms gently before letting his hands finally fall to his side.

“I had no idea Mandalorians could flirt,” you said as you started to help him pack up his room. His rifle was leaned up against the wall by the bed, and he had other weapons and supplies strewn about. “Is that something you learn during your training?”

“No.”

You laughed at his response, shaking your head slightly.

“I suppose not,” you sighed happily. “I’m sure everything with Mandalorians is very serious. I bet you court each other with a strict protocol.” You made a little salute with two fingers to your forehead.

“I…am not too familiar with Mandalorian courting rituals,” he said lowly as he put the rifle around his shoulder. “I have never felt the need to abide by them.”

“And why is that?” You asked casually, stuffing some credits into a small pouch so he wouldn’t lose them.

“The rituals I’m acquainted with are subtle,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I did not think you would notice them. I have had to resort to other methods.”

Your paused your movements for a moment, frozen in your spot. You swallowed hard, shaking your head again and continuing to organize the bag in your hands.

“Ha, ha,” you said sarcastically. “You’re hilarious. I didn’t know Mandalorians told jokes either.”

“I would never lie to you,” he replied simply. You suddenly had a lump in your throat. Your mouth was dry, so dry it hurt. Your heart tightened in your chest, and you clutched the bag to your middle. You had your back to him, and although he moved quietly, you could feel him stepping closer to you. You trembled just a bit, feeling your hands shake.

You thought this had just been teasing. You thought he was just entertaining your flirty remarks, letting you giggle and laugh and joke because it was what you needed to feel comfortable. You thought Mandalorians were the greatest warriors in the galaxy, and there was no room in their Creed for courting or love or romance, at least not with someone like you.

You did not swear on any Creed. You did not wear any helmet. You were not bound to any covert or Tribe or people of any kind. You were technically not even a warrior. You knew only what the Mandalorian had shown you, and while you could hold your own at his side, you did not grow learning how to make a blade an extension of your hand or the intricacies of a blaster. You were you, and that was all you had to give, and you did not think that would be enough for a Mandalorian. A solider, a warrior, however you wanted to call them, they were master hunters and avid fighters and women like you did not belong with them. In fact, you really couldn’t picture anyone belonging to a Mandalorian except perhaps another warrior of equal standing. You pictured, at the Mandalorian’s side, a woman who perhaps could spar with him and win.

A woman who could understand him in ways that I might never be able to.

When you turned to face him, your eyes were wet with tears. You looked up at him with a quivering bottom lip, and the Mandalorian tilted his head to the side, examining the defeated expression on your face. You were in love with him, more than you had ever been with anyone else before. You had never seen his face, you had no idea the name he was given by his mother, but you were in love with him. Despite the past you knew he had, the Mandalorian was noble and honorable, at least with you and those you had encountered. Every day with him was an adventure. New planets, new people, new languages, incredible experiences, a new skill here and a beautiful view there. Your life was color and vibrance and noise and wonder, and you had never slept more peacefully than in your small cubby in his ship, layered with pillows and blankets that he had bought for you. The Mandalorian showed you, time and time again, that he was not the murderer he once might’ve been. He was care and protectiveness and safekeeping incarnate in impenetrable armor, and you were in love with him.

You had loved him since he first touched your face after you watched him kill his first adversary for you. One green, slimy hand had touched your waist, and that was all he needed to sink the blade from his boot right through the creature’s middle. His violence in response to your wellbeing should’ve terrified you, but it pulled you right in. He had touched your face in a silent question, to wonder if you were okay, and you had just nodded up at him, letting his leather glove sweep over your lip and rub the smudge of blood away from it.

The Mandalorian was not good. In fact, he had a past that followed him darkly, a grey cloud that flooded his mood with rain when you met someone he once knew.

The things Mando used to do…has he ever told you about the bounty we captured in the Outer Rim?

Mando, have you gone soft?

Mando always needed target practice, isn’t that right, Mando?

He took down an entire platoon with just that blade. What he would do with that rifle of his…

You admired the stories, but you could tell they did not soothe him or fill him with any sense of pride. The Mandalorian said nothing about those comments, only moved the conversation forward. He never wanted to be reminded about who he once was; that, or he did not want you to know who he once was. If you discovered the shell of a man he used to be, he feared you might still find him worthy. Worthy of what, he wasn’t quite sure, but he knew he was unworthy, nonetheless.

“I thought…” The Mandalorian paused. He did not want to say the wrong thing. “I know I am not…it is not easy to feel a certain way for me—”

“To love you?” You scoffed, letting a tear finally fall. “Just say it. It’s not easy to love you? Is that what you meant to say?”

Your voice was shrill and hurt. You put his bag down, your fingers fiddling with each other to keep yourself occupied. The Mandalorian just moved his helmet in just a way to agree with you. You shook your head at that, looking away from him as you sucked in a deep breath.

“That’s the understatement of the century,” you murmured. “Not easy to love you? You’re…you’re impossible!” Your voice came out as a curt yell, and you surprised yourself with the heavy anger there. “You’re impossible to love. It’s like…sometimes I feel like I’m talking to the wall…” You closed your eyes, your cheeks wet now as your tears fell and fell and refused to stop. “I feel like I’m talking to the wall, and you still manage to drive me insane.”

He stepped even closer, shielding you from the rising sun. His broad figure cast a dark shadow over you, and despite the heavy ache in your chest, his closeness was welcome.

“You’re—” You continued, and he let you. “You barely talk. You barely tell me anything about yourself. I don’t even know your name…” You nearly whined when his hand came up to cup the side of your face, his thumb wiping the wetness of your tears from your skin. “But I can’t help it—” You relaxed when he brought both hands up to cradle your face in his hands. You were at peace here, so tranquil in the silence of his company. “I have never…I have never felt this way before. And I feel it with a kriffing Mandalorian…”

“What do…what do you feel?”

You opened your eyes again, staring up into his visor. He sounded nervous. It was a tone of voice you were unfamiliar with. The Mandalorian was never nervous; and he certainly was never insecure nor unsure of himself.

“Are you kidding me?” You breathed, putting your hands over his on your face. “You know, for a Mandalorian, you suck at reading the room.”

He tilted his head to the other side, and you squeezed his hands under yours. You slid your hands down the back of his own, over his wrist. You traced the beskar of his vambraces, up and over his elbow and along his biceps. You slid your palms over the pauldrons on his shoulders and then brought your arms around his neck. You stepped even closer, close enough that your hands pushed on the back of his helmet and dipped his head down to yours.

You closed your eyes as the sweet, cool kiss of beskar touched your forehead. You knew the significance of such an embrace; you had asked a member of his covert once, when you and he sought refuge, if Mandalorians were capable of showing affection when they never showed each other their faces. They had mentioned the act of polishing armor, of securing it to each other’s bodies, of giving each other gifts of their signet, but the one that stuck the most in your mind had been the kiss of their helmets. You noted the fact that none of these were words of affection; like your Mandalorian, their rituals were silent in manner and deep in meaning.

You had no way of knowing how wonderful the shake that ran through the Mandalorian all the way through his toes felt. He was warm all over at your kiss, and he was afraid that if he opened his mouth, the only sound that would come over the vocoder would be a groan, a sound of relief at the fact that his all-consuming love for you was in fact not unrequited.

You had learned a meaningful part of his culture and were using it to tell him everything he needed to know about how you felt. It was as if you could peer directly into his heart, as if you knew exactly how to communicate with him. You were so clear and pervasive, and at this, the Mandalorian knew you understood him in ways not even his Tribe was ever able to. This was a union that he would never find anywhere else, an invisible link he shared with you that no one else could ever imitate.

“I love you,” you whispered. Speaking love, this was your way of life. He listened, not daring to speak, to allow you to share your thoughts without interruption. “I…I can’t remember how long it’s been. I’ve loved you for so long, that I…I don’t even remember what it was like to not feel this way.” Your hands curled around the back of his neck again, feeling the rough fabric of his cape there. You had patched this cape many times yourself, sewing up the holes left by blasters and the singed hem from fire. “And I never want to forget this feeling. Ever.”

You stayed there for a few long moments with him. His arms were wound tight around your waist, holding you to him. Your own were wrapped around his neck, your forehead pressed to the helmet as you breathed warmly against the metal, your lips kissing it lightly as you breathed in the moment. He was quiet, and so were you, and it was in the silence of your embrace that you could feel the joy radiating off his armor like heat. The Mandalorian was happy, and you smiled the longer you held each other.

“We should get going,” you said finally, lifting your forehead off his helmet and letting out a content sigh. “Shouldn’t we?”

He was quick. He bent slightly at the knees, his hands falling from your waist to grab at you from under your knees. He lifted your legs to wrap them around his middle, and you gasped in surprised as, with incredible grace and strength, he planted you on the edge of the dresser. You looked down at him easily in this position, and he took his place between your legs, so close that your lips bumped against the forehead of his helmet as he got comfortable here.

You laughed a bit, your hands moving up to hold where his cheeks would be. You had never seen his face, but he was beautiful in ways you couldn’t describe. Physically, the broadness and firmness of his unyielding figure were enough to have you weak in the knees; but his sweltering physique was coupled with a tender heart and skillful hands, and it made the Mandalorian a physical amalgamation of every need and desire you had ever dreamed about.

The Mandalorian was far from perfection; but on the stars, he was perfection in your eyes, and you would change nothing about him. You would not even change the fact that you did not know what his kiss felt like or what color his eyes were. You welcomed the idea that the Mandalorian you knew was faultlessness and loveliness inside (at least to you), and no matter how many layers he was unable to shed for you, you were familiar with the most important part of him all, the part that rested underneath all of the heavy beskar and warm skin.

You knew him. That was all that mattered, and that was all that would ever matter to you.

“There are…” He did not know how to voice the ache in his chest. “There are things I can’t tell you, things that…I might never be able to—”

“Shhh,” you rested your cheek against his helmet, closing your eyes as you hugged him as close as possible. “I…I love you as you are. I…I will never ask for more than you can give me. You are enough. This is enough.”

If he never showed his face to you, you would still be content. If he never told you his name, you would still love him more than anything in the galaxy. If he never let you feel his skin or kiss his lips or understand what colors his eyes were when he voiced his own love, you would still be the luckiest woman that ever lived. There was no need to wonder. You never wondered, in fact. None of it mattered to you; the Mandalorian was enough just like this, staring up at you with firm hands holding the pieces of you together.

“You deserve more,” he said gently.

“I don’t want more,” you shook your head, breathing in the scent of him deeply. He smelled so good; he smelled like warm sand and a spring waterfall, just a hint of smoke and fire. It was more comforting than anything to fill your senses with him. “I want you.”

You said it as if it was the simplest answer; you said it easily, smoothly, with no hesitation or shake or fear. You said it as if it was the easiest announcement you ever gave; and truthfully, it was. You were certain no creature or being anywhere among the stars could ever make you feel this way again. You had discovered your person. Your person was a Mandalorian. This Mandalorian—adorned in sparkling silver beskar, smelling like blaster fire and pretty skies, with an arsenal around his waist and a heart of pliable steel.

Pliable. Not rigid, not unfeeling. Pliable. At least in my hands.

“Did you hear me, Mandalorian?” You asked, a bright smile widening over your face. You leaned back a bit to look at him better. “I want you.”

“Yes,” he swallowed hard. His voice was so low, barely audible over the modulator. “Yes, I heard you.”

You gave him soft eyes as you felt his hand slip low, over the outside of your leg. Your breath hitched as you felt his careful fingers slip over the edge of your thigh holster, undoing the first buckle. Your hands dragged around his neck, your palms pressing flat against his chest plate, letting the cool metal soothe the heat in them. He had spent some time fitting you into your armor, and now he was taking it off just as carefully, just as slowly, just as teasingly. He had to know now what his touch did to you.

He had to.

Once the holster was undone, it fell to the floor, and you both stared at each other wordlessly. You continued to say nothing as you reached around him to undo the ties on your boots and toe them off until they fell with a thud onto the floor. You kept your gaze fixed on his visor as you moved his hands higher up on your waist, hooking your fingers into the sides of your pants and tugging them down and off your legs, discarded haphazardly over your boots on the floor.

This was an invitation. It was a silent offer of you can have me and I am yours. You were perched up in his grasp, sitting pretty in his arms, and while the Mandalorian could not give you all of him, you could, and you would. His resolve was faltering at your request; it was selfish to give into you when he could not give you the same in return, but he could feel himself physically hurting the longer he tried to resist his intense cravings of you.

It was almost saddening to think that he did not know how much you didn’t care. You didn’t care about how much he was able to give you, or for how little time. You wanted him in whatever way he would allow, and you would savor that for the rest of your days. Love was unseeing, and it was not patient, but weakly, you hoped it would be forgiving.

“Din,” he murmured lowly, so quiet, you barely heard it. He could at least give you this; it was a sacred word, but he felt this would be enough for now. “My…name is Din.”

His name. The crackle between his words warned you enough. His name could only be spoken like this; in the quiet of your presence, with no one else around to hear it. He had let you have of piece of him, and you promised, silently, that you would hold it so tight and keep it safe. You would never say his name to another, not even in death.

Is that how far you will go for him?

Your head lulled back against the wall when you felt him for the first time. Filling you to the brim with a warmth and heaviness that you had always longed for, he was perfection in one man, you were convinced of that now. His voice gave in, uttering a broken groan of utter pleasure and relief that made your insides feel as if they were on fire. You were so mistaken before; you thought him flawed to the outside stars but perfection in your eyes, but you knew now that there was nothing the Mandalorian lacked. He was perfect, so perfect, and gods, he felt like he was going to break you in two with how good he was making you feel.

I would do anything for him; and yes, I think I’d even die.

You cradled his head to your chest as you pressed your hips flush against his, your eyes closing tight as he grasped at your waist. He was pawing at your back, his gloved hands clutching onto the fabric of your dress and corset as he tried to calm the feeling of unhinged pleasure that was rippling through him. It was no use; you were so tight and welcoming around him, and the feeling was forcing him to lose all sense of focus. The Mandalorian had never felt so helpless to one single thing; you were breaking his resolution without even trying. No, that was lie; the sudden, aching grind of your hips against his was agonizingly effective.

You didn’t remember how you made it from the dresser to his bed, but suddenly he was on his back and your hands were fixed on his chest plate, and you were pushing your hair back as you kept up the grueling pace he had already begun. His knees bent, supporting you from behind, and you bit your lip hard to keep yourself together. The firmness of his thighs were only heightened by the beskar secured around them, and the metal was digging into your back deliciously. Your teeth biting down into your lip muffled the sounds you might make, and he couldn’t have that. Sitting up to support you even more, he reached up with a gloved hand and used his thumb to open your mouth wide, a high-pitched gasp leaving you as soon as you could voice it.

I want to hear you, the action told you. I want to hear how you sound when I make you mine.

You looked into the depth of his visor, your hands sliding up onto his shoulders, finding the space between his neck and the pauldrons he still wore, squeezing the firm muscle there. You had slowed your movements to look at him, to get comfortable again in his arms, and you both were having a difficult time trying to breathe properly. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his helmet, whimpering as you sank down even further on him. He was nestled deep, and you were clenching hard. You thought it might be awkward to fuck the Mandalorian with his helmet still on; the thought of not being able to kiss him made your heart ache. Instead, it was an intimacy that comforted you to no end.

You could not know what he looked like, but you knew what he felt like. You would learn what every ridge of him felt like, what every curve of him touched inside of you, how hard he remained even with the relief of how tightly you squeezed him. There was not another woman or creature in the galaxy that would ever memorize this; you were determined not to allow that. The Mandalorian was yours now, and you would fuck him blind to make him understand this.

“Promise me this won’t be the last time,” you begged, tugging his chest to yours, kissing the metal of his helmet wherever your lips touched. “Promise me I can have you…please.”

Gods, he’s making it hard to breathe. I can’t think.

“Please, Din.”

You did not get a response. Instead, he gripped your hips tight and guided them back into a rhythm, a pace that started slow and gentle and climbed in stride as your own desire climbed in you. His touch was soft, but the tormenting feeling of him hitting you deep again and again and again was anything but gentle. The Mandalorian was skilled in not just combat, and you grew jealous wondering how a man such as him learned to be such a capable, intense lover.

“Din, promise me,” you whined. Now that you knew his name, you did not stop. It felt so good to say it, and he seemed to fuck you harder each time you said it. He liked the sound; your sweet, soft voice saying his name like a prayer. You were beginning to think your Creed was this, the panting cry of his name as you met each of his thrusts with just as much fervor, the—Din, Din, gah—please!—it was the mantra you wanted to say for the rest of your days. The Mandalorian had whittled you down to this; a half-naked woman who was beginning to forget every word in her vocabulary just at the feeling of her lover’s touch.

But he wasn’t doing much better than you. His jaw was slack beneath the helmet, his visor fixated on the beautiful bounce you carried as you met each grind of his hips. He memorized the way sweat clung to your skin, beading along your hairline and a little down your neck, and he refrained from the urge to smear it around you and make you sparkle with your own desire. The Mandalorian was fully clothed, gloves still fastened and armor clanking together and digging into your soft skin, but he felt utterly naked at this moment. It was daylight, and the love of his life was whimpering his name—his fucking name—and he had nowhere to go and felt no other sense of purpose except for getting you to that sense of haven and watching you let go. You were tighter than he imagined, taking him so deep he thought he might feel your throat, and the way your body enveloped him made him realize just how much you wanted him in the same way he wanted you.

You were bound. There was nowhere to go. No matter what the Mandalorian did for the rest of his life, this was where he would always end up. You could leave, he could leave, there could be lightyears between you, but somehow, he knew, he would end up here again. He could see it, as if he could see some distant future, visions of himself coming back to you. In some of those visions, he saw his own eyes, brown and blown wide and starving for your touch.

“Din, stars—” You choked out, bracing yourself against his chest. “Focus on me…” You laughed a bit, leaning down and nuzzling your face into the fabric of his neck. Even fully donned in armor, you knew his mind was somewhere else. You needed it to be on you. “I need…ahh…I need more.”

No, that wouldn’t do. The thought of you needing more from him was too much to bear. He took a hold of your throat, gently, but you seemed to enjoy the grasp, and with a startling burst of strength, the Mandalorian flipped the two of you, your back hitting the bed as he curled your leg around his waist. You stared up at him, lifting a hand and putting it to the curve of his helmet, stroking it gently with your thumb.

“Need you,” you whispered, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. You were drunk on the presence of him, feeling as if he had already taken you over the brink of bliss, and yet you were still needing to feel a release. He was driving you crazy, and you hadn’t even come yet. You had never seen his face, and yet there was no one in the galaxy that had ever made you feel quite this lustful; wet, dripping onto him like spring rain, staining the dark of his flight suit, a sinful, gushing reminder of what he was doing to you.

He kept his hand at your throat, soothing your pouty lips with a smooth leather finger. He gripped your face roughly, his forehead to yours as he continued the pace you had both set. Now, he was stuffing you full of him, his weight pressing into you and drilling you into the bed deliciously. You wanted more of him, all of him, heavy and broad all on top of you. He was holding your gaze and gripping you tight and fucking you with the control and determination of a true Mandalorian. He had promised you this, and Mandalorians were true to their word.

It would be against his Creed to do anything else besides make you his.

You let out gurgled moans, your eyes rolling back a bit in your head as he started to hit that warm, spongey place deep inside of you. He could feel how you responded, the way your stomach tensed, thighs trapping him against you, your nails digging into fabric around his neck. You were seeing stars, real stars, blinding your vision of him as you said his name again and again and again. He was so focused on you, starting to lose control of himself and fuck, how he wanted so badly to kiss you. He almost dropped the helmet and forced his mouth on yours, but both your hands rose up and gripped the sides of his helmet for support as you felt that cord ready to snap, ready to break, ready for him.

“Din—” You whined. “Din, I-I…I’m gonna—”

“Take it,” he spoke finally, and you moaned so loud at the heaviness of his tone, the desire in his voice. “Take it…take what you want—”

That was his promise to you. Whatever you needed, whatever you wanted, the Mandalorian would give it to you. If you wanted this moment to last the rest of your days, he would give it to you. All you had to do was take it.

All she has to do is ask, and I will do whatever she says. Whatever burns her, I will set on fire. Whatever hurts her, I will make nonexistent. Whatever wound of her cries, I will mend.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, trying to hold yourself together. It was impossible. You closed your eyes and clawed at the fabric around his neck, shifting your head close enough that you revealed the skin beneath it and kissed it, your lips wet and eager to touch any part of him. You bit down gently, sucking soft, bruising the skin there as he took you to another place entirely. Someplace bright and euphoric and never-ending, someplace where your entire body shook, your thighs closed, your moans never ceased. He was taking you to another planet maybe, at least in your head, and you soothed the bites you were leaving on his neck with wet licks and sweet kisses. He would be bruised when he looked in the mirror. Your insides turned at the thought that when he took off his helmet later, alone, he would be the only one to see your marks littered there.

Even as the searing pleasure faded a bit, you kept your legs tight around his waist. You let out quiet whimpers as he kept up his intense rhythm, your hips still trying desperately to meet his own. You wanted to feel him, needed to feel him, and you pulled away to look into the depth of his helmet, hoping he would see the pure want in your eyes.

“Yeah?” He asked lowly, squeezing the flesh of your throat. You licked your lips, nodding hurriedly. He lost his composure, a few sloppy thrusts before he choked out a low groan, right into your ear. You thought maybe you fell over the edge again as he filled you to the brim. You shut your eyes tight, a soft moan escaping as you reveled in the feeling of being so full and so elated. You felt your thighs become sticky as he pulled out just slightly, wetness pooling between you, and then you yelped with surprise as he pushed right back in, squeezing your throat possessively.

You giggled in a daze, lifting a hand and dragging your fingers down the side of his helmet. You both were panting hard, drinking in the fog of pleasure. You smiled up at him, leaning up and kissing the helmet wherever you could.

You hummed softly when he left you, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to relax. You heard the rustle of clothing, the heavy clank of beskar. You steadied your breathing as you heard him move around the room, and then you sighed deeply as you felt his hands on you, gentle as they wiped you down and got you dressed. You sat up slowly, finally opening your eyes, and you grinned up at him again, feeling warm all over as he fixed your corset again. His thumbs grazed over the swell of your cleavage, and you bit your lip at the feeling. The Mandalorian was touching you now, and he was not shy about it. It drove you wild inside to know he couldn’t help himself.

He picked up your thigh holster off the floor, taking a seat in the chair again. You stood up, on wobbly legs, and you took a seat in his lap this time, one arm going around his shoulders as he fastened the first buckle around you. You were being affectionate now, leaning your head against the side of his helmet as he continued carefully, silently, contently. He did not push you away or tense at your touch. He liked having you close.

“You know…” You said hoarsely, watching him buckle another strap, “I know…how to do this. I…just…I like when you do it. For me.”

He rested his hand on your thigh when he finished, turning his head to face you. You swallowed hard, nervous as he stared at you.

“I…want to do it for you,” he said lowly. You smiled at him, framed by sunshine and soft wind, and he had to tell himself to breathe as he looked over you.

You leaned forward, closing your eyes as you rested your forehead against his. He closed his own, savoring the kiss you so easily gave him, the love you had no problem expressing. You were so at ease like this, as if you were made solely for the purpose of giving the love you held so dearly. In truth, you had bottled up these feelings for so long. You feared crossing a line with him, doing something that went against his sacred religion or the vows he had made to wear the beskar he had become. Now that you had crossed the threshold, you feared not showing exactly what you felt. The Mandalorian made you feel new again, whole again. You would not go another day without showing him the very parts of you that ached to be seen.

Because he sees me. He does not look through me, he sees me. I have no idea what his eyes look like, but I know they are on me, and I know he’s looking at me, and I know he sees me.

In the silence of this room, on a planet you could not remember the name of, you made your own vows; a Mandalorian as your Creed, his name your prayer, and his touch the salvation that brought you home.

[ramp-it-up]

Greatest

Pairing: Pilot!Steve Rogers x Publicist! Reader

Summary: Steve tells you the truth.

This is the next part in the Greatest series.

A/N: This is not as kinky as I promised. I had to cut this in two because I'm in the mood for love, so this has plot with the porn. Hope you like it anyway! #KinktoberMaybe

Warnings: 18+ ONLY Minors, DNI. Enemies to Lovers, and there was only one bed, fast start to slow burn, idiots in love, angst, secrets, sexual frustration, good girl kink, public sex acts, manual sex, teasing, edging, Captain kink, praise/degradation kink, dirty talk, graphic sloppy oral. Not Beta’d. All errors are on me.

Notice: I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

DO NOT COPY, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK.

——

Steve glared at Bucky, silently daring him to say it. He had the urge to punch something and Bucky’s mug was very convenient at the moment. 

The only thing holding him back was the fact that Bucky was 100% correct.

“Let me get this straight. You had her. Or she had you rather, in the palm of her hand. And you left her there to take a shower and let her walk out the door?”

Steve thought back to what he was thinking when he made that decision. He realized that he wasn’t thinking, but panicking. He didn’t want the rush of hormones and emotions that flooded him after your beautiful mouth made him lose control. So he retreated to the shower, hoping and praying that you would follow him, and absolve him of having to make the decision.

All he needed was that one overture from you to make rushing forward with you before having a proper conversation.

But your pride was stronger than the physical need you had, and when you walked in the bathroom, you just fixed your face and reapplied your lipgloss, smoothing your dress down your body and looking at your ass in the full length mirror before you gave the shower a side eye when you walked out the door.

“None of it was supposed to happen… it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. I wanted to talk to her first. Before we… But she is so… I just wanted to do it right…”

Bucky shook his head. 

“You missed your chance at that, Punk. You could have told her on your date…or when we landed…or in the room, before you did disrespectful things to her.”

“Shut your trap, Jerk.”

Steve looked around the bar as people walked by. He sometimes regretted that he told Bucky everything. 

“... or at breakfast, before she sucked out what little brain cells you have…”

Steve downed his drink as he listened to his friend accurately recount his failures.

“Hey.”

Steve looked up into his best friend’s eyes.

“It’s not too late. The problem is that you riled her up and left her hanging. You better find her before one of these insanely handsome Italian men do.”

“Shit.”

Bucky chuckled as he watched Steve hurry out of the hotel and into the streets of the fishing village. He had to find you and tell you the truth.

—-

You loved your little sister, but she was being a monumental pain in the ass.

Hey, Sissy!

Just want to let you know that Topher and I and the rest of the peeps (except Steve of course) are going to Paris! D invited us!

I’ll send you lots of pics to post. The most romantic place on earth, eek! Enjoy the yacht ride and the accommodations. We’ll pick you up at the end of the week.

Go easy on Steve, don’t hurt him! ;)

You saw the message twenty minutes after Aria sent it, and she wasn’t picking up your calls. 

Now you were trapped in Italy with the asshole who liked to play mind games.

Great.

You looked over at the tall dark handsome stranger who was looking at you from the cafe across the street. You smiled as you realized that Steve Rogers wasn’t the only game in town.

—

Steve’s morning was spent searching high and low in Riomaggiore. But it was Bucky’s text that sent him flying back to the room.

Gonna take Aria and crew to Paris for the rest of the week. Don’t ask.

I can handle the two hour flight. You concentrate on Y/N, Aria wants you two to have alone time.

I gotta tell you though, Sharon thought she saw her with an Italian dude, btw…

Steve was shook when he found that you had cleaned out your stuff from the room that you were forced to share. 

He had no idea where you were.

—--

Hours later, you were enjoying coffee at a different cafe, alone. Luca was indeed handsome, and charming. But you weren’t quite feeling him like you wanted to. He showed you some sights, but after spending a wonderful afternoon with him, you decided you needed time to get out of your head.

So you went and got your things and transferred them to Aria’s suite. It was much more spacious than the room you’d shared with Steve. He deserved space from the horrible bitch who’d ruined his trip.

The best thing to do was to give him some space on his unintended vacation. You were a big girl. You could take care of yourself. And you needed some down time from taking care of everyone else. You would go to activities planned for Aria and Topher this week, get social media content, post it later, and make it seem as if her honeymoon was twice as long as it was. 

It was win-win.

So why did it feel as if you’d lost something?

You looked down into your cup of coffee as if you could read your future there and you heard a familiar voice.

“There you are!”

You looked up into the cerulean eyes of Steve Rogers.

You stared as he started talking.

“Listen. I know I fucked up. But let me explain.”

You scowled at him.

“Do all asshole men have the same script or something? That is one of the most basic sentences ever.”

You got out your wallet and put some euros, gathered your shopping bags and stood up.

“Y/N, I know I’m a basic bitch, but please hear me out.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Steve’s attempt at the vernacular. But you kept walking out of the cafe. You knew he was following you, but you kept it moving to the corner as you stopped to hail a taxi.

Steve was anxious, but he wasn’t going to let you out of his sight again. 

“I’ve rented a Vespa. I can give you a ride.”

His deep voice so close was doing things to you, but you just gave him a side eye over your shoulder.

Steve gave you a side smile in response and motioned down the street to the small red machine. You squinted at it.

“Will you, me, and my bags fit on that little bitty thing?”

“We’ll make sure we fit.”

Steve leaned toward you and gabbed your bags from you, fingers brushing against yours, sparking electricity. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish as you chased your purchases. 

“You’re not the boss of me!”

Steve stopped abruptly and turned around, causing you to stop inches from him.

“You’re right. Do you want me to leave you alone? Or do you want an explanation.”

You huffed up at him, heart beating a mile a minute at the deep bass of his voice.

“What if I want both? I need… I need to know the reason and I need to think. You’re a fucking enigma!”

Steve smiled down at you.

“I know. And I apologize. You don’t deserve the mind games.”

You exhaled.

“Thank you for that.”

“So. Do you want to go back to… wherever you’re staying tonight and talk tomorrow, or go somewhere and talk tonight and I give you space after… or….”

You realized that Steve was hurt that you moved out of the room as you looked into his eyes.

“I moved into Aria’s suite. To give you some space…”

“I don’t want… I mean. I get it.”

Steve was looking down now.

“Let’s go talk. Still have the yacht booked for tomorrow, that would be a great time for me to think.”

You watched Steve’s adam’s apple bob as he thought of you in a swimsuit.

“Cool. Let’s go.”

Steve led you to the scooter and secured your bags on the back of the Vespa as you got your helmet on. He put his helmet on and looked back at you as you climbed on behind him.

You had to be careful to tuck your dress properly, and you could have sworn that Steve licked his lips as he watched you. You decided to ignore that as you settled in.

You held on to Steve’s slim waist as loosely as you could, but you ended up with your hands dangerously close to where your mouth was this morning. You tried not to think of it as you took in the scenery and zipped through the town. Steve seemed to know his way around.

You turned into a parking area.

“The Via dell'Amore?, really Steve?”

“It’s a beautiful view. I’m not trying to mess with your mind, Y/N.”

You were wary, but you followed his lead to the trail. You were blown away as you stepped on the pathway proper and you felt Steve’s heat close behind you. It was a narrow path.

“Amazing isn’t it?”

“It’s breathtaking!”

You looked back at Steve and he smiled when he saw your face. 

“I’m glad that you like it.”

You two started to walk, and you found out that Steve had been stationed at Pisa and that’s why he knew Cinque Terre so well. 

“I bet you brought a lot of girls up here.”

You didn’t know why you cared. But he was supposed to be explaining himself.

“Fewer than you’d think. There was one local girl, but I haven’t had many relationships.”

“Oh.” 

You bit your lip as you overthought.

“I would have thought that someone who looked like you would have people falling at your feet.”

“Really?” Steve appraised you. “I might say the same for you.”

You laughed.

“I’m not everyone’s type.

“And I’ve never been more grateful to be an individual.”

You shook your head.

“Look Steve, I am really sorry for how I acted on our date. It was so wrong of me to assume about your upbringing. I understand your need to get back at me…”

“Wait. Do you think that last night and this morning was about getting back at you?”

Steve had stopped and was looking into your eyes.

“Well…”

Steve put his hands on your arms and shook his head.

“That wasn’t what that was. Man, I am such an idiot. I need to explain.”

Steve spied a stone bench that overlooked the water and led you over to it.

“This is about my childhood. And yours. About us…”

“What are you talking about, Steve?”

“What do most people ask you about your background?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Most people ask me how I became Aria’s publicist.”

Aria starred in a Disney sitcom as a teen and her recording and acting career took off from there. There were plenty of sharks, but you knew the business. When you finished college, you made sure that she would never be exploited again.

“I figured, but what about you? You’re pretty talented yourself, right? You acted a bit when you were younger, didn’t you?”

You did a double take. Not many people knew that about you.

“You’ve been researching me, Captain Rogers?”

Steve’s stomach flipped when you called him that, but he answered you.

“Not exactly. Maybe. Sort of. I know things.”

Steve plowed ahead. You decided to play along.

“So… yeah. I was in Betcha By Golly Wow when I was 10-12 years old. I played young Vanessa.”

You thought back to the days when you were considered one of the most promising young actors on broadway. You even had a Tony nomination somewhere in storage. What a time that was in your life. Aria was a toddler and your parents were still alive. It was before you had to grow up so fast. You adored Aria, but back then you were able to do something you loved in the most glorious way. 

Your arms raised goosebumps as you looked into Steve’s eyes. Something was prickling your intuition.

Steve nodded at your response as though he knew what you were going to say.

“What was your favorite part about performing on Broadway?”

“Well….”  

You looked at him again, getting this strange feeling of deja vu. There was something about this exchange that was giving you the feels.

“My favorite part of being on a Broadway show was making people happy. I loved hearing the audience sing along and laugh at my lines. I used to love the finale because everyone in the audience always got on their feet and danced along.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You were breathless now. It couldn’t be. You had to be crazy.

“And after the show, I used to meet as many people as possible. And talk to them. I was thrilled when they wanted my autograph and said that they wanted to come back to see the show again. It was such a privilege to make someone’s day.”

“D’you remember any of the people that you talked to?”

“There were some that stood out.”  

You were looking at Steve in a new light now. 

“...Like the time Audra McDonald came by. And Sheryl Lee Ralph. My heroes.”

“Are those the only ones you remember?”

“I loved when we did special matinees for schools. There was one time, when we were paid by the Stark Foundation to give personalized tours for boys from a group home who were interested in acting…”

“I bet that was a real treat for them.”

You squinted at Steve, trying to erase 20 years from his face.

“Yeah. I bet. But, as you probably know very well, 12 year old boys can be assholes. I was assigned this asswipe of a kid named Brock, and he demanded that I kiss him behind the kitchen set, he also tried to feel me up, and I slapped him.”

You shook your head at the memory. Then your brow furrowed and you looked back up at Steve.

“He started to manhandle me and I got scared, because he was so much bigger than me. He grabbed my arm and all of a sudden, this scrawny little kid named Grant…”

You cocked your head sideways at Steve, almost certain now. You continued.

“…This smallish kid named Grant jumped on his back from nowhere, and managed to distract him. Of course, Brock started to get him good, but I picked up a baseball bat from the stage props and together we got him to leave us alone. I ended up…”

Your voice trailed off as the emotion of that day came back. You couldn’t believe you had blocked this all out.

“Smallish?” Steve snorted. “He was a runt.” 

He smiled at you and your heart did a thing. 

“I’m guessing.”

You smiled and nodded. 

“Right.”

“And I bet that you took that Grant kid to your dressing room and cleaned him up. Because Brock tagged him in the nose pretty good.”

You looked at Steve’s beautifully crooked nose.

“You probably taught him the dance in the second act. Even the slow dance that the grown-ups did….”

Steve trailed off, lost in the moment so long ago.

That moment when you first stared into the same blue eyes that you were looking into now came back and took your breath away.

“Great guesses. And I bet you can also surmise that I was taller than him.”

You smiled softly as you remembered the way his hand trembled at your waist, but the boldness in the way he stared at you. You bit your lip as you remembered the innocent kiss on the cheek that you gave him as he left.

Steve was blushing now, looking down at his hands as he smiled at the memory.

“Yeah. He probably hadn’t had his growth spurt yet. But I bet that didn’t matter to him. You were probably… No definitely the most beautiful girl that kid had ever seen. And that kid never forgot that day. Or you. He probably never got over it.”

You two stared at each other for a long time it seemed. You broke the silence first.

“Steven Grant Rogers.”

Your eyes appreciated his body in a new light. 

“A growth spurt indeed.”

Steve flushed again.

“I wanted to tell you at dinner, but then…”

“I assumed shit and was rude as hell.”

“Yes…”

You scoffed as Steve laughed.

“…And I didn’t know how to tell you what I’ve wanted to since the day I found out you were Aria’s sister. The first time you stepped on the plane, you didn’t recognize me the way I recognized you. And I admit, I felt some kind of way.”

You cocked your head at him.

“You were salty? Why? You've been stalking me for 20 years and I ruined your chance to make you fall in love with me?”

You were joking but Steve didn’t laugh. 

“I’m not a stalker. But I really never forgot you. I did move on. Bucky and I enlisted together and I had other relationships. But there was this ideal girl in my head that no one could ever live up to. I gave up on finding the one, because I thought the one was somewhere out there that I would never reach. And then you walked on my plane and…”

“Wait. Your plane?”

“Well.. yeah. Bucky and I own two jets, and we lease them.”

“Oh. Topher presented it as if he owned it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“Anyway. Here you were. And you virtually ignored me. And then I managed to get a date with you and you were…”

“An asshole. I know.”

“Just.. not the same girl I had in my head.”

“Oh. So you’re disappointed?”

Your heart sank for some reason.

“No. You have grown up. You know who you are and speak up about it. But you challenge me, you care so much about everyone else, and you’re so fucking intelligent. And that body…”

You thrilled at that statement.

“You’re so much better than the fantasy I’d built in my head. I was intimidated.”

“You didn’t seem intimidated last night. Or this morning.”

You moved closer to him, craving…something.

“I wasn’t planning on having to sleep in the same bed as you. I couldn’t help myself.”

Steve’s hand touched your arm and moved up your neck.

“It’s like I’m drawn to you on a string… I…and this body… you’re not a little girl anymore.”

Steve looked down your cleavage and then drew away. You felt disappointed.

“I wanted to talk to you before… if… anything happened.”

Steve looked out over the water.

“And I just know that if I… if we… took it there. It would be the point of no return.” 

He looked back over to you.

“You wouldn’t be able to get rid of me.”

Your eyes were on Steve’s lips.

“So it’s like that?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“You mean to tell me that I would be dickmatized? I couldn’t quit you if I tried.”

Steve smiled cockily at you.

“Pretty sure that would be the case…”

“Try me.”

And suddenly you were on Steve’s lap, your hands in his hair as you kissed his lips and demanded entry with your tongue. You ground your crotch on him, bringing his cock to life through his pants. His hands went to your waist, thumbs caressing your sides as he took possession of your mouth. He groaned and one hand moved up to your nape, grabbing the hair there to separate you from him.

“We can’t…you’re trying to get me to fuck you on the side of a public cliff.’

You whined as Steve attacked your neck, nipping and biting you, surely leaving marks. Your clit was quivering from the pleasure and your whines got louder.

“Need you Steve…”

The last 24 hours felt like a giant tease. 

“You need time to think, remember? We’re caught up in emotion now… time to.. Fuck… think.”

“Yes. You’re right. Thinking is for winners. Not fucking like mindless animals. Wouldn’t want you to fuckme from behind like an animal with that big dick…”

“I’m so hard right now, I’d need to struggle to fit it in that tight little hole…”

You whimpered.

“It would be so easy right now. ‘M so wet…”

Steve groaned.

“Ok.. that’s it.”

He lifted you off of his lap and all you could do was look down on his hardon, disappointed. He lifted your chin to look in your eyes.

“You really will have us arrested.”

He nodded toward a security camera.

“Let’s go back to our separate rooms. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Yes, join me on the yacht tour we can have a great discussion in our bathing suits. Swim in the ocean. Get all wet…”

Steve shook his head at you and grabbed your hand.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

He led you back down the path to the Vespa and kissed you after you put your helmet on.

“I promise I won’t hurt you, y/n. I will give you anything you ask for. And you asked for space.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me, even if I ask you to?”

“You’re incorrigible,” Steve laughed at your antics.

You kept your hands in neutral places on the ride back to the hotel, resting your chin against Steve’s leather-clad back. Steve caressed your hand with his as he drove. He walked you back to your new suite, and when you reached the door you leaned back against the wall.

“Do you want to come… in?”

Steve smiled at you. 

“More than anything… but I won’t..”

You pouted up at him, chipping away at his resolve. You cursed yourself for saying you needed time alone.

“Can I have a kiss, Captain?”

Steve chuckled, moving closer to you.

“Of course…”

You dropped your bags when he leaned down, your tongue laved his lips and when he opened, you sucked his tongue. Steve moaned into your mouth as your hands came up and tugged on his hair. That was a hot wire straight to his cock. His hands began to wander, large fingers playing with your nipples through your bodice. Your sensitive buds were straining against the lace and the cotton as he teased you.

“This dress…the way you look in it. And the way you feel…”

“You’re making me so hot, Steve. Want you. Need you…I’m dripping for you.”

You pressed yourself close to him, standing on tiptoe to return the favor of marking his neck, making him reach down and gather up the hem of your dress.

“Is that so?”

And his fingers dipped into the lace of your sodden panties, moaning as he felt you.

“Fuck this feels so good, Doll. You are so slick…oh my god…”

He started to finger fuck you with two thick fingers as his thumb twirled your plucky button.

You were holding on to his shoulders for dear life at this point.

“S-steve! Fuck!”

“When you go in here. By yourself. Alone.”

It was like he was trying to convince himself. And he was.

“Don’t touch yourself. I’m claiming this pussy as mine. And I don’t want you to touch it. Be a good girl and save your orgasm for me.”

You were about to cum on the palm of Steve’s hand, so you would agree to anything.

“Jesus Steve… yes, yes! Whatever you say.”

He withdrew his hand, holding your glare as you watched him suck his fingers off, angry that your orgasm was denied. You didn’t want to be defiant, but you needed retribution.

“Then you can’t touch that cock. No matter how hard you get tonight.”

Steve gulped.

“Don’t waste any of that delicious cream on the floor or any where that I am not there to lick it off of you. If you are not going to cum inside me tonight, you better not do it anywhere.”

He smiled at your possessiveness.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He leaned down and kissed your nose.

“You’re so cute when you’re angry. You know that?”

You smiled up at him and turned around to the wall within the cage of his arms.

“I’m much cuter when you’re hitting it from the back, or so I’m told.”

Steve felt a mixture of jealousy and lust as you stuck your ass out and ground on his hard cock through your dress and his pants. He pushed his wet fingers in your mouth as his other hand went back to your pussy, teasing you to the edge again, as he molded you to his fingers.

“Such a fucking brat. I should fill all your holes…”

Your body throbbed as you thought of being used by Steve in that way.

You begged for it.

“Please Captain…”

Steve growled as he abandoned your pussy again and fell to his knees, pulling your dress up and your panties down. He pulled your hips backward so that he had access to your sopping wet crease. He needed to shut you up, and this was the best thing he could think of although you were in the middle of a public hotel hallway. Of course, he wasn’t thinking clearly since there was no blood in his brain.

Steve’s lips suckled at your clit like a man dying of thirst and just when your vision started to blur, his rude tongue forged a path up your folds to your tight ring of muscle, where he boldly dipped inside you. You grabbed his hair as he gave you a taste of what he wanted to do to you, but once again, you were denied the ultimate pleasure. He stopped just before you came all over his face.

Your head was spinning as he turned you around and fixed your dress. You looked up at him, surprised that he was upright, and that you were not on your knees next.

“Now be a good girl and get some rest.” 

He put your bags back in your hand and kissed your temple, then retreated across the hall as you opened your door. 

“G’night,” he said as you held the door open, as if offering an invitation.

“Sweet dreams,” you responded, letting the door swing closed as you pulled your dress over your head, giving him a glimpse of the lilac lace beneath your dress.

Steve’s first urge was to break the door down when it latched closed, but instead he just stood there and collected himself as he looked around for the exit and took the stairs down to his room to burn off some steam.

You leaned against the wooden door of your room, hoping in vain to cool down the fire that Steve Rogers had stoked inside of you.

—-

If you like it, reblog pls! ❤️

[itsabouttimex2]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do platonic yandere monkiefam and bull demonfam with a younger sibling/child that is blind but can sense vibrations, like toph from Atla

Monkiefam with a blind Y/N

Out of all three of them, MK struggles the most with your blindness. He means well, he really does! You didn’t grow up with the ability to sense vibrations and interpret them- you had to learn. And sometimes he thinks back to the days before you did, comforting you in his arms after a nasty spill brought on by a rearranged environment. He thinks back to getting into fistfights with bullies and pranksters, how he would see red each time someone would snatch things away from you or knock you over- and he remembers the feeling of teaching them to keep their hands off of you.

“I’m not trying to baby you,” MK loudly insists as you struggle in his grip. “But you need to take this with you if you’re going so far out!”

The two of you continue to struggle against one another as your older brother tries in vain to pin a tracking device to your backpack, notably holding back so he doesn’t hurt you. “C’mon, please?! Just let me put it on already!” MK lessens the force he’s exerting on you, deciding to try and barter instead. “You don’t even have to keep it on! Just for today, Y/N!”

Predictably, his attempts at diplomacy fail and you’re left to wrestle even more fervently in his grip, trying your absolute hardest to writhe free.

And then something slips under your shirt- a fluffy, prehensile tail that writhes against your ribs and leaves you in a giggling fit, MK free to stuff the tracker somewhere deep inside your bag. “Monkey King! Knock it off,” you wail out, fighting against his playful assault. “Stop!”

“Nope! Hate to be a joykill, bud- but I agree with MK. You’re taking the tracker if you wanna head out to that new cafe. Honestly, I don’t see why you wanna go at all when I could just whip something up with my-“

“I am not eating hair! Now get your tail off me!”

It’s incredibly frustrating, the way they treat you. It’s not quite to the point that you’d say they’re infantilizing you with their actions, but it can come very close.

MK’s babying is mostly tolerable, given that it comes from a lifetime of watching over you before you learned to sense vibrations and find your way around. He was there for you at your absolute lowest, and he’s not gonna forget all the people that messed with you because you looked like an easy target. Still, as you grow older his actions feel less ‘protective’ and more ‘stifling’.

Sun Wukong is far, far more irritating. You’re just too easy to scoop up! He can sneak up behind you on his cloud and sweep you into his arms and keep you there for hours on end as you struggle and kick, futilely trying to escape his furry grip. No vibrations can travel through the misty mounds of his nimbus mount, leaving you well and truly helpless in his arms.

The Great Sage’s intention isn’t to make you feel weak or vulnerable, but he certainly won’t raise a fuss as you squirm into his lap so you can at least feel the vibrations that race through his body with each breath he takes- it’s something, at least. Wukong twists around a little to accommodate your body, letting your head rest again this chest, listening to his thrumming heartbeat. The outline of his body flashes in your eyes, something to ground and settle you.

“Dad’s gotcha, bud/hun… I’ve gotcha…”

As for your other ‘dad’, Macaque mostly watches you from afar when you’re with Wukong and MK. He prefers to step in when he has the chance to have you all to himself, springing umbral portals underneath your feet, the shadowy pit dropping you from the ceiling and into his arms with a smug: “Hey kiddo-going somewhere?”

And before you can yell at him for springing this nonsense with you again, you pause, because… hey, why not use a chance when you’ve got it?

“Dad,” you start, forcing the awkward word off your tongue. Already, the sable simian perks up, his ego stroked at your acknowledgement of the role he wishes to take. “I’m heading to a café. You want me to bring you something back?”

Macaque traces a clawed finger across the bottom of your face, curving up in a semi-circle motion: cheek to chin to cheek. His way of telling you: ‘I’m smiling’. Softly, his palm comes to cup your cheek.

“I’ll take you there myself, kiddo.”

It’s not that he’s a better person than MK or Sun Wukong. In fact, he’s a lot worse. He was a vindictive, egotistical villain not too long ago. You think of the Dragon Palace of the East Sea, smashed to pieces, it’s residents displaced and it’s people injured. Men. Women. Children. Each of them, innocent. Mere collateral damage to the simian.

He’s displayed no remorse or regret for his actions. The only thing he’s felt shame for is his long-ago submissiveness to his sworn brothers.

He’s not a good person. Not in the slightest.

But he’ll try to be one. If only for your sake.

Bullfam with a blind Y/N

It’s easy to feel out of place here. Your parents and brother are demon warriors, powerful celestials, prideful members of their esteemed and feared clan. Your vibration technique is nothing short of impressive, if not outright groundbreaking, but it hardly holds to the level your kin can reach.

It doesn’t help that you are rarely given the opportunity to prove your worth, no matter how you strive and fight for those precious chances.

Instead, you’re often relegated to support and menial chores, your family finding worth in your services by putting you to task with (safe) time-consuming labor. And you… kind of enjoy it? Because instead of “Don’t touch the laundry machine, you don’t know what you’re doing”, it’s “Y/N, clear the table and bring us the grimoire we unearthed last month,” Princess Iron Fan says, brushing some hair behind your ears and clipping it into place.

You shouldn’t be so happy about such a mild thing, shouldn’t be happy to be commanded and directed. But it’s proof that they don’t see you as entirely helpless, and allow you to contribute in some way, even if it’s small.

There’s a degree of normalcy in it, something you crave. To be treated like a regular member of the family, responsibilities and all.

Unlike the Monkiefam, Y/N doesn’t have much freedom before they learn their vibration technique. The Bullfam keeps you on a much shorter leash, often locking you in your room during fights or training, refusing to let you potentially wander into harm’s way. MK would carry you across the street to keep you safe while still giving you a chance to explore the city with him, Red Son would lock you in your room and serve you exclusively blended meals to keep you from making a mess and spilling things on yourself.

Secretly, he misses making those drinks for you. It was a very strange and unwanted; if surprisingly heartfelt, way of caring for you.

After all, they got used to the ways they took care of you. Learning to utilize the vibration technique teaches you how to be independent, but also shakes up the dynamics you have with your family. No more being gently bundled around the fortress on the Demon Bull King’s hands, for example. He used to scoop you into his palms and let you sit there, safely nestled into plush purple fur. His steps grow more cautious now that you absolutely insist on walking on your own (and your father does want to make you happy, so he begrudgingly allows you to wander the walls alone) the taurine warlord doing his best to keep from crushing you underfoot.

Not that they’re suddenly going to stop being obsessed with your safety and welfare. You are still under strict orders and schedules, and they don’t go easy on you for breaking them.

And if you ever do step out of line?

Red Son has an incredibly devious method of punishment for you- snow boots.

Sounds like a joke, right? It sounds funny, almost. Your parents don’t seem to mind all too much, and Red certainly derives are least a little bit of amusement from the scenario.

It’s not funny to you, though.

The matter of getting punished for exerting basic control over your life aside- they’re taking away your crutch. Without a thought of how helpless and vulnerable you feel as result, how terrified you are to be plunged into darkness again, how bad it hurts to remember the days you spent crying as child, scared and alone when you got lost, no way to find the path home.

He’ll feel bad for doing this to you, eventually. He always does, no matter how many times he swears that this will be the time he’ll “Make you wear them for a full hour, and it will be raised to two if you complain, Y/N!”

You’re wrapped in a blanket and drinking tea with him by the time a half-hour has passed.

He loves you, after all. Even if he thinks of you as a blithering little idiot sometimes- you’re still his cherished little sibling.

[svt-kiki]

( 🧺 ) 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ⌅ .

EP 109 : MT SVT REALITY 2024

2024.　pairing.　kiki ( fem!oc ) × svt

cw.　eng is not my first language, rough writing, no proofread, mentions of alcohol ( i mean it’s ttt so )

kiki was attacked hugged by mingyu as soon as she entered the lesson room after jeonghan

“what? ...oh, yes,” she said to herself with a chuckle, remembering mingyu was elected as the gose class president in previous episodes ( and carats didn’t miss that he seized the chance to hold her )

then she greeted with the staffs politely as always, wearing a black clop cardigan and a matching color camisole, dark gray pants in a relaxing silhouette, both were soft materials, matching the mt concepts for the day

also wearing glasses ( important )

she just tittered while hoshi, cheol and jeonghan kept adding mingyu’s tasks as the class president

“you guys living to give him a headache for real, arent you.”

she sat on the place nearby the door, then the next thing carats realized was wonwoo silently sitting next to her ( seized the chance guy #2 )

after most of them gathered, she popped up with a question, “isn’t it been a while? doing ttt?”

kiki: i love this content so much :)

wonwoo silently pulled her sleeve and got her closely so that she could join the same car with him

jun: but seriously, do you guys think it is okay? leave the grocery shopping task to us!?

kiki: *stepped ahead, tried to volunteer that she can do instead*

jeonghan, held her from behind and covered her mouth: DON’T

seungkwan: hey! someone is trying to smother the applicant! ㅋㅋ

dino: no, no, hadn’t we strongly agree not to let noona do those things in ttt before?

that’s true, in almost every ttt episodes, she is always willing to do shopping, cook, wash dishes, and clean places aftermath

so boys decided “no more tasks” rules for her, bcs she always doing these tasks not only in the content but on a daily basis

jeonghan: ah i should let her sit in the passenger seat, joshua ain’t do a thing

kiki: well it’s too late for that *comfortable in the backseat*

she just couldn’t stop laughing at how jeonghan introduced the product for ads

kiki: why are u so bad at this

jeonghan: shut up i’m no actor okay

kiki: wait this actually tastes good???

joshua: ahdfsjak

not wonwoo slowly lying down to her lap

they went to the PA for a casual meal

jeonghan: can i have a drink?

kiki: go ahead i’ll drive

[ pretend like the rule never existed ]

jeonghan: *attacked her cutely*

kiki: ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

kiki: i want to eat a popsicle so bad, should i text mingyu?

joshua: if u want i’ll text him instead

kiki: really? like aren't your text piling up?

then every person in the car died

joshua: did u just backstabbed me like that!?

kiki: i'm sorry i didn't intended to ㅋㅋ

she was surprised at how big today’s accommodations were

kiki: staff-nim must struggling to find the places for us every time

[ yes we are ]

jeonghan asked her to play the pool together so she said yes

he laughed about how sometimes he got pissed at how she’s good at everything from the beginning

kiki responded with a serious face, “no, the reason it looks like i’m good at those things is any other pfu boys basically suck at every ball game,” and both burst into laughter

after a while, jun shouted to her from outside, “kiki~! i’ll sing your fav jp song, u wanna join?” so she immediately got outside

[ never miss the opportunity to duet ]

singing i love you by ozaki yutaka with jun, kiki said to him, “we should do the cover of this yk, like officially,” and carats started manifesting in a sec

mingyu: thank god she’s finally here

while naturally helping to prepare the BBQ, kiki looked around and said, “everyone just singing karaoke… i guess we are already at the age now where we need to save our energy for the night…” then died inside

[ blew herself up ]

she’s an honorary member of the low-energy club in the group so

after everyone got at the table and cheered, joshua finally asked her help for his kimchi fried rice which took one eternity

kiki: okay lemme add this- and this- and this spice- yeah now it’s good

[ finally served ]

after playing the games ( she kept losing and got a lil tipsy already ), they cleaned the place for once and shifted to the next game

minghao claimed from the distance that since kiki’s good at playing basketball she should be given a handicap

so she gave a shot from across the pool while everyone watched in silence expecting the miracle but she failed the first attempt

[ miracle is a miracle because it won’t happen easily ]

kiki: what did u expected i'm half drunk

in the ep.3 part, she chilling and half asleep while her roommates mingyu and dokyeom are both hyperactive from early morning

kiki isn’t the type of not good in the morning usually, but this is the day she didn’t need to wake up before 10 am for a long while so she just kept sleeping peacefully, it might be the first time in ttt that she hadn’t get up early than most of them

kiki: wow you actually look like your dad

jeonghan: all of the sudden-?

while seungkwan trying to get on the unicorn float, she was still sleepy but automatily turned on the camera and started recording ( lately posted on weverse ofc )

an.　this is really rough sorry ( almost sucks at this point?¿ ) but it is like a test drive for me before i lost my motivation to write it so here we go. tag list is open, reblog / comments / ask box messages are always appreciated <3

(    📁    )   :   NAVI   :  MASTER LIST     

(    tag list    )   :   @smh-anon @jennwonwoo

[another-lost-mc]

Pet

When the demon brothers put you in harm's way, Barbatos steps in to save you, whether you want him to or not.

BARBATOS & gn!Reader 1.4k words | NSFW | Yandere Barbatos | Forced Imprisonment Content warnings: Yandere thoughts/behaviours, memory flashbacks, forced imprisonment, mentions of starvation/forced feeding, mentions of animal cruelty/death, minor mentions of blood, Stockholm Syndrome. A/N: Without giving too much away, their relationship is platonic in this installment. Please read the content warnings before continuing. The Creepy Castle AU [Part 3] PREVIOUS

Barbatos waits for his young master to settle into bed for the evening, and then he heads to the kitchen. The castle is quiet this time of night and he doesn’t worry about being observed. He hums quietly when he sets a tray on the countertop and begins preparing a late snack for you. 

Your appetite still isn’t what it used to be, and you can’t stomach the rich foods he would normally make for you. It doesn’t take long to heat up a piece of dry toast, and he puts a handful of plump, purple hellberries into a small bowl. Once he’s satisfied, he leaves the kitchen with the tray. He can’t help but smile - you used to be so stubborn about eating before.

When Barbatos first brought you to his room, you refused to eat everything he offered you. He knew you must be starved by now - it’s been far too long since you last ate something. You weren’t tempted by the food he gave you, or the desperate bargains he tried to make with you to get you to eat.

Barbatos did what he needed to do, and he frowned when you squirmed in his hold. “I don’t want to do this, but you leave me no choice,” he reminded you when he finally forced your mouth open to feed you himself.

“I promised to take care of you. I’m all that you have now.” He shushed you when you sputtered awkwardly and liquid dripped from the corners of your mouth.

After he fed you, he made sure you were cleaned up and kept warm. He held you close to his chest until you stopped trembling. He hoped you found his heartbeat against your ear comforting. “I’ll bring you something to eat tomorrow, so please try not to be stubborn. I don’t want to force you again - but I will, if I must.”

When Barbatos slips into his room and locks the door behind him, he sets the tray on his nightstand. He’s excited to see you after a long day by the prince’s side. Sometimes he’s able to find a few spare minutes to sneak away and see you, but most days he’s simply too busy and can’t leave his post. You occupy his thoughts when he’s not with you.

You’re still fast asleep when he checks on you. You’re buried under the plush bedding he purchased specially for you. He hides you in a dark, secluded part of his room where no one would dare think to search for you. He even modified the space with magic to make it larger and more comfortable.

You must sense his presence because you stir and blink sleepily, looking around in a daze before you realize he’s kneeling beside you. He offers his hand to help lift you out of your bed, and you greet him happily. Barbatos believes you trust him now, finally. It didn’t always used to be this way.

Barbatos flinched when you bit him. He expected some resistance from you, perhaps some anger while you adjusted to your new living conditions, but you never tried to hurt him before. 

He was livid.

“You take for granted everything I’ve done for you,” he hissed, and you cowered away from him. He wasn’t yelling, but his tone was sharp and deadly; his eyes flashed with a hint of violence. “I’ve changed parts of myself to accommodate you, because I wanted to help you.”

He glanced away, convincing no one that he was unaffected by your rejection. “Perhaps some time apart will remind you not to bite the hand that feeds you.”

In the days since that incident, Barbatos was true to his word and avoided you. He brought you food like clockwork - you started eating on your own, thankfully - but he barely spared you a glance when he left the dish by your side.

He left you as quickly as he came, and he refused to acknowledge you or speak to you. He shrunk your living quarters so they were even smaller than before, barely giving you room to move about freely, and he left you shrouded in darkness.

You were used to listening to him talk about his day, usually while he held you in his bed in the late hours of the evening. This new, unusual silence hurt you. You missed the warm candlelight of his room, and his soft voice and gentle touches. You missed him, but you didn’t know how to tell him.

Barbatos became increasingly distracted as the tension with you weighed heavily on his mind. He had no doubt what he was doing was the best for you. He didn’t want to punish you like this. He only wanted you to understand that he was trying to care for you the best he could. He knew it was worth it. He cared about you, and he hoped one day you would care for him too.

He must’ve been so distraught over you that his mask of indifference cracked. One afternoon, Diavolo sensed something was bothering him and took pity on his friend. Barbatos was dismissed earlier than normal from his duties. He wasn’t used to having this much spare time, and he didn’t want to waste this chance. It was nearly two weeks ago when you hurt him - perhaps you would be more reasonable now.

Barbatos went straight to his private quarters, but he sensed something was wrong as soon as he entered the room. He heard the rat before he saw it; it was making quiet, snarling sounds as it approached the dark corner where Barbatos kept you.

Instinct took over, and the disgusting creature didn't stand a chance. He was only grateful that you didn’t have to watch what happened next. He cleaned the blood off himself and the floor before he checked on you.

He visibly sighed in relief when he realized you were startled but otherwise unharmed. You shook with fear in the corner of your bed. Perhaps you weren’t very fond of rats either. 

“It’s gone now,” he promised quietly, eyes suddenly blurry with tears. All his anger and frustration melted away when he realized nothing else mattered except that you were safe. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I’m sorry for everything.”

When he offered you his hand again, you didn’t hesitate to accept him.

Barbatos watches you eat and sets aside the leftovers once you're finished. He lays on his bed and settles against his pillows. He lifts you to his chest so you can rest against him.

Even he has to admit that this arrangement was uncomfortable at first, and more than a little bit strange. When he looks at you now, safe and happy with him in the quiet sanctuary he’s built for you, he’s sure now he made the right choice to bring you here.

It’s only by a stroke of luck that he’s the one that found you. The accident happened nearly two months ago. He knew he couldn’t trust your safety to Lucifer and his brothers - not when they’re the ones that got you into this mess to begin with.

Barbatos is gentle when he strokes you, and he watches you fall asleep. You’re so delicate.

“Oi, what was that for, Levi?!”

“You haven’t paid me back the money you owe me!”

You were putting alchemy supplies back on the shelf in the potions lab when you heard the demon brothers arguing nearby. You’re not sure who knocked into you from behind, but you grunted from the force and lost your balance. You stumbled forward and banged into one of the storage shelves. When you regained your bearings, you looked up just in time to see the bottles of strange liquids and substances rock haphazardly before they fell towards you.

A booming explosion rocked the floor, and your demon friends rushed towards the cloud of noxious fumes that the volatile mixture of ingredients created.

“No one is allowed any closer until we make sure it’s not dangerous—“ the professor said when he stepped in front of Mammon.

“But someone is in there!” Levi yelled. Mammon and Levi both shouted your name desperately even as the rest of their classmates dragged them back.

By the time Diavolo and Lucifer arrived to investigate the accident, there was no trace of you. The only evidence of your survival was your pact marks with each of the brothers that remained intact, but they couldn’t find you anywhere.

Barbatos strokes the little mouse sleeping on his chest with the gentlest touch of his bare finger. Sometimes he thinks about changing you back. He knows he should. It took him so long to accept you like this, but he admits that he enjoys it now. It’s difficult for him not to, not when you curl against his hand and trust him to keep you safe.

Perhaps he’ll keep you like this a little longer.

[flrlgreen]

pain, pleasure (kento nanami x reader)

a/n: posting my nanami one shot from ao3 on here! i apologize if i miss anything or don't tag something correctly.

cw; explicit, use of the names slut, whore, and good girl, nanami is very mean, reader has a pussy, exhibitionism, hair pulling, punishment, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation, eye contact, fingering, crying, dom and sub dynamics, vaginal sex, begging

“P-please Nanamin!~” You say out of breath. You avoid making eye contact with the man who had a fistful of your hair as you were too embarrassed. As soon as your desperate plea leaves your mouth his grip on your roots gets even tighter and he forces your face up and forces your face closer to his. Forcing you to make eye contact with him. 

“Fucking look at me, whore. Don’t look away.” Nanami’s rich and deep voice makes your lips tremble. His other strong hand was buried between your legs. He was fingering you at an aggressive and vigorous pace. The squelches filled the room as the speed of his fingers sped up more and more. All while he didn’t even loosen his grip on your hair. His pupils were blown out and full of lust. His brown eyes were almost completely black.

“M’ sorry Nanamin! I am!” You were almost sobbing. It felt too good. His long and thick fingers were making you moan like a porn star. You even felt a little lightheaded. Whenever his fingers curled you involuntarily bucked more into his hand. “F-fuck!” You couldn’t keep your moans in anymore when he hit that small bundle of nerves. “Fucking take it and shut up. I don’t wanna hear you.” Those words shot straight to your core and made you even wetter.

You had been acting out all day. At first. He was trying to stay calm and composed, but after you embarrassed and undermined him for the last time in front of Satoru he had enough. He needed to teach you a lesson as soon as the two of you were alone. “You’re so fucking wet and I haven’t even fucked you yet. You wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted me to punish you.” His fingers slowed and sped up again at the end of his sentence before he ripped his fingers out of your pussy at once. 

His fingers were wet with your arousal. It made you blush heavily seeing him put his two fingers to his mouth and lick them clean. “You taste so good. Fuck. I need you so bad I can’t take it anymore.” He finally lets go of your hair and pushes you back on the bed. “Turn around. I don’t wanna look at you right now.” He demands and you obey. He undoes his pants and watches as you turn around and he immediately gets behind you. He was so much taller than you. His big and masculine stature made you feel so small and helpless whenever he would punish you. 

Knowing he could completely dominate you whenever he wanted and make you a mess underneath him was such a turn-on. You had a thing for getting this kind of reaction from your boyfriend, and he knew that. His punishments would leave you sore and sometimes you wouldn’t even be able to walk for days. Especially when he would invite Satoru and Suguru over. The three men would have their fun with you until they thought you had learned your lesson. 

You’re brought back to reality when you feel Nanami’s hard cock poking at your slick entrance. He grabs you by your hair again and forces your head back before shoving his thick cock in at once. You can’t help but let out a high-pitched moan when you feel your walls stretch to accommodate your angry boyfriend’s cock. “God. You’re so fucking tight.” He bites his lip and takes a second to take in the feeling of your pussy gripping him like a vice. 

He doesn’t even wait for you to adjust before he starts pounding into your pussy. “Nanamin! It’s too big. I can’t. Fuck.” You cry out. You can’t even moan into the pillow to hide your moans. He makes a makeshift ponytail and pulls you back harder until his chest is pressed against your back. “Shut up, you can take it. This is what you wanted. You know better than to embarrass me in front of my friends don’t you?” He whispers in your ear. His voice sends shivers down your spine and makes you clench involuntarily around his length that’s going in and out of you at a brutal pace. 

“Oh, the whore likes that? I can feel your slutty pussy clench. You love it when I’m mean to you. You love it when I treat you like a fucking slut. You can’t help it.” “Please.” That’s all you can manage to get out. “Please what? Come on. Use your words.” His thrusts slow down and it’s like torture. “Please Nanamin. Fuck me harder. Need more.” 

As soon as those words leave your lips he pushes you back down and lets go of your hair and one of his strong hands grip your waist while you arch your back. “You want it like this? Slut.” He says. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room and your eyes roll to the back of your head. His thrusts make your lower half glow with pleasure. 

You were too blinded by pleasure to hear someone knocking on the bedroom door. ‘Nanami? Y/N? Are you in there?” It’s Satoru. Fuck, what does he want? Satoru is met with no response. Just the sounds of sex. Nanami’s thrusts don’t slow down. If anything his thrusts get harder and rougher. You feel like you’re drowning in pleasure and it’s too much. Nanami keeps hitting the spot that makes you see stars and he obviously doesn’t care if Satoru hears. “Nanamin, we have to stop. What if he hears? I-” “Let him hear. You deserve to feel embarrassed. I hope Satoru hears you moaning like a fucking bitch. It’s what a whore like you deserves.”

His hand reaches around you and he starts to play with your clit while keeping up with the brutal pace. Fuck. You didn’t care if Satoru heard you anymore. He didn’t matter right now. You just wanted to chase your own high that was so close. You can deal with Satoru later. Nanami thrusting into you from behind with all his might while playing with your clit was becoming too much. At this point, you know you won't last that long. 

“Fuck, I feel so fucking good. God, you make me feel so good.” You practically yell out. “Yeah?” God. “I wanna cum so bad. So close.” You start to bounce more on his cock while his thrusts start to get sloppy. You can tell he’s getting close too. “Keep bouncing on my cock like a good girl. You’re doing so well. I know you wanna cum so bad. Work for it, slut.” Nanami has stopped thrusting into you and is letting you do all the work and bounce on him, but keeps rubbing circles on your clit slowly. “Fuck, keep bouncing like that. I’m gonna cum in you. Fill you up.” That was the last thing you needed. The knot that was tightening in your core was finally going to burst. Nanami watches you bounce and stops rubbing slow circles on your clit and grabs your waist. Hard.

He moves you up and down so hard your tits bounce and you just can’t hold it back anymore. “‘M gonna squirt. I can’t!” As soon as Nanami hears that he just can’t keep it together anymore. The knot snaps and you squirt all over the sheets beneath you and Nanami releases his seed inside of you at the same time. He stands in place for a little bit before pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your abused pussy. “Fuck.” He pants and watches you collapse on the bed. “You okay?” He asks before plopping on the bed next to you. 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You reply and turn on your side to look at your boyfriend. “That’s good, I’m glad.” He softly smiles and leans in to give you a kiss on the forehead and cuddle you. “I love you so much.” “I love you too.” You reply before you hear Satoru at the door. Again. “God. Are you guys done fucking yet?”

[ellecdc]

I went to get my teeth checked today and kept on thinking abt how Lily would be a great dentist. Gentle hands, nonjudgmental, would be so accommodating to any requests or requirements you have like noise cancelling headphones or something…. And she would be soooo against the trend of recommending treatment purely based on cosmetics rather than need. Like we have doctor Remus how about dentist Lily 😂😂

you know what? this was so cute that I had to write it - also, the conversations between reader and Lily are real-life conversations I've had with dental hygienists so be nice to me, I'm still recovering hahhaah

dentist!Lily Evans x reader who goes for a routine checkup

CW: written with a fem!reader in mind and references to a medieval woman accused of witchcraft but should be gender neutral/no pronouns used otherwise, reader has a brother for plot purposes, reader had braces growing up for plot purposes, reader has a bar on the back of their teeth for plot purposes, also.....reader doesn't floss DON'T JUDGE

You were lying back on the large vinyl-covered dentist chair pondering what exactly it was about dentists that caused so many people anxiety.

This was obviously a distraction, though, as wondering why dentists were so fear-inducing was far more comfortable than thinking about how anxious you felt right now.

You supposed that as a species, humans were wholly dependent on their mouths; it was how they ate, how they emote, a method of air intake, and also how they communicate. For hunter-gatherers, an injury to one's mouth could very well have led to dire consequences.

Of course, something happening to one's mouth wouldn’t necessarily leave them completely helpless in today's day in age with modern medicine.

And though you may not have been a hunter-gatherer, you were also decidedly not a medieval woman accused of witchcraft awaiting your trial by ordeal. But the longer it took Dr. Evans to join you - leaving you ample time to consider the various torture looking devices while reclined on this chair that looked like it could sprout restraints at any moment - the more you began to feel an awful lot like a medieval woman accused of witchcraft awaiting her trial by ordeal. 

The sound of the door clicking shut interrupted your spiralling as you tried to sit up straighter in your chair only to slide back down to your original position. 

But perhaps this wasn’t your trial by ordeal; perhaps they’d already gone ahead and executed you and you were actually sitting in heaven’s dentist office because surely the beautiful woman adorned in scrubs standing before you with long, thick red hair which had been artfully plaited away from her face was an angel? 

You realised belatedly that you’d been sitting there with your mouth agape staring at her instead of confirming your name for her.

“Yes! Yes, erm, sorry.”

But the angel - Dr. Evan’s, she introduced herself as but insisted you just call her Lily - simply waved you off and pulled a stool over to sit beside you. 

“No need to be sorry! Between the constant whirring of machines and my penchant to speak a mile a minute, it can be hard to keep up sometimes. So! You’re here for a routine cleaning?”

You nodded dumbly at her as she pulled a surgical mask up over her mouth and nose, mesmerised by the way it seemed to accentuate the brilliant green of her eyes which only appeared even greener when she smiled at you.

“Alright, well let’s take a peek at what we’re working with here, shall we?” She asked as she encouraged you to lay back after putting a bib on you like some nappy-wearing child.

Oh god; you didn’t know an angel was going to be looking in your mouth! You were expecting some grey-haired bored doctor with a superiority complex; now an angel will know you don’t floss!

“Wait!” You shouted abruptly, startling the angel doctor and encouraging her to put some space between you, though she schooled her expression very quickly. “Okay, listen, I’m sorry. But you see, I had braces as a kid, and they put these bars behind my teeth! You know, to keep them from shifting? And they’re great - so great, no complaints truly; they’ve done their job, see!” You paused to bare your teeth at her like some socially awkward chimpanzee. “No shifting at all. But! But, you see, my teeth are so sodding close together now - again, totally fine! - but between that and the glue and the bar, it’s sodding impossible to floss. Oh shit I just said sodding to a doctor! Oh my god I just said shit! I’m sorry! I just don’t want you to think I’m some plebeian who doesn’t care about dental hygiene because I do! But I honest to god, hand to my heart walked around with a piece of floss stuck between my teeth for three days after I tried last so I just...sorry…”

You fought to catch your breath and it took you possibly too long to realise the angel doctor Lily was laughing at you; the mask impeded the smile but the crinkles in the corners of her emerald eyes and the gentle shaking of her shoulders gave her away. 

“I’m so sorry, I honestly thought you were about to tell me you were going to throw up on me - which would be fine! Worse things have happened quite frankly.” She chuckled as she seemed to relax back into her stool. “Why don’t we take a look?”

Burning with embarrassment, you did as you were told and opened your mouth immediately, wondering if it was at all possible for her to feel your jack-hammer pulse through the barely there fingertips pressed to your jaw as she peered into your mouth. 

“Well honestly, there doesn’t seem to be a lot of build up anyway! I wouldn’t have known you’d not been flossing.”

“Wait, really?” You asked then, causing her to move her gaze from your mouth to your eyes. 

“There’s a little bit of plaque but nothing out of the ordinary! Basically what I would expect to see from someone coming in for a routine check up.” She confirmed before taking one of her torture devices (a dental scraper) to your teeth as you watched her auburn brows cinch closer together. “Your teeth really are close together.” She murmured mostly to herself.

“I wasn’t lying.” You defended quickly, earning you a bright and bubbly laugh from the doctor. 

“Sorry; force of habit. I hear a lot of ‘I absolutely brush my teeth twice a day’ and ‘I floss regularly’ when I can easily see that neither of those things are true.”

After she had explained what she was going to do, you spent the better part of the appointment with her fingers shoved into your mouth. 

“I do not envy your orthodontist; you have a very small mouth.”

You snorted inelegantly at that as she removed her hands from your face. “My brother would disagree.”

You were rewarded with another tinkering laugh as she inspected her cleaning. “Don’t worry about the flossing hun; I’d rather you come in and have me do a cleaning for you than to hurt yourself or damage your teeth trying to floss.”

“I’m not in trouble?”

“Even if I did have the authority to scold you, you would not be in trouble. But I hope to see you in another six to twelve months for another cleaning!” She said as she walked backwards from the room with one last (now maskless) smile in your direction.

Suddenly, dentists didn’t seem so scary, and you found yourself rather looking forward to your next appointment.