#it just felt like they used him and then chucked him aside

[chaotic-kitty]

Talking to (info dumping on) my partner just now about Tech, and man, I'm forever going to be salty over how his death went.

If they were gonna kill him off for emotional impact/shock value, they could've at least done something more with it. They had all of this material they could've worked with to create an episode in memoriam or just include in the episodes we had. Like:

Omega telling Cross about Techs death

Wrecker and Hunter telling Phee about Tech (especially given what their last interaction + implied relationship was)

Shep and Lyanna learning of Tech's death

Echo telling Rex about Tech

Everyone also finding out about Omega's kidnapping

Seeing how Wrecker and Hunter dealt with mourning Tech while also searching tirelessly for Omega

Seeing how Omega and Crosshair dealt with mourning him while being held captive

How they all dealt with the loss when they were together again. Like giving him a proper memorial or something

There's just....more they could've done to acknowledge his death and the impact it would've had. Hell, Echo got more focus in some ways when he left the BB and he didn't even die. And they could've framed the episode in so many ways, too.

This wasn't just some random person. He was a main character, a brother, a beloved member of the squad. He deserved a bit more. Especially as it felt like the only times people brought him up were when they could've used his knowledge. And there was more to him than what he could do for them.

Had he been revealed to be alive somehow, maybe it would've been a bit more understandable. But he didn't. If they truly wanted more impact and shock, imagine how much more our souls would've been crushed, and our hearts ripped to pieces, had we gotten an episode or something showing the stages of shock and grief they all would've gone through.

And the thing is, this was still a creative choice that was made. Sure, higher ups could've interfered but like, why? If you're going to kill a character or put them through something, the least you could do is to do the storyline justice. Especially as his death only saved them for a moment before they were ultimately put on a path that they were. And it honestly just feels cheap and like a waste. All of that character growth and teasing of romance just to be killed off - via a sacrifice that was avoidable had they thought things through more - and tossed aside to allow for a dragged on storyline next season. :/

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 2 of November Paramedic; part 1 is here.)

Steve's honey-sweet eyes, gleaming with confidence, ask 'why don't you take a bite?'

His pink mouth, deliciously curved, wonders 'don't you want a taste?'

His dark chest hair, leading a mouthwatering path down his pants, says 'you know you want to'.

And Eddie does. He really does. He would, if Steve was actually here. Alas, all Eddie has is the calendar photo currently staring at him from where it's propped on Eddie's dresser, and he's not biting into it. It's the only one he's got, you see; he won't be ruining it with bite marks and drool due to his intrusive thoughts.

If he had a copy machine close at hand, though? If he could make as many pictures as he'd possibly want? Oho, watch out, Slobbertown!

It's been one week since Steve the sexy paramedic revealed himself to be a real person and not just a dude in a softcore porn calendar. One week since he Florence Nightingale'd Eddie before vanishing in a flurry of bloody gauze and blinking blue lights, leaving both Eddie and Gareth breathless.

(Though in Gareth's case, it was due to laughing so hard he choked on himself.)

The calendar doesn't do it for him anymore. Don't misunderstand – he still uses it when beating the meat. In fact, it has exclusively become his primary masturbatory aid, and it has served him especially well the past few days. The moment those 48 hours were over and Gareth left, Eddie chucked off his sweatpants and went to, well, Slobbertown. But it's not the same anymore. How could it be, when he knows the real Steve's hair smells like a meadow and his aftershave like lemon and spice? When he's felt the pressure of Steve's fingertips on his jaw? When he's seen the faint scar running down Steve's chin from his mouth? When he can still hear Steve's voice use his name, give him orders, call him 'sir'?

It's impossible. Fuck, just whenever Eddie closes his eyes Steve's face appears, as vividly as if it happened yesterday. Of course, that might have something to do with Eddie already having made himself oh so familiar with Steve's face, and chest, and hands, and… everything else, for the past two years. Jesus damn it, if he knew this was where he'd end up he never would've bought the calendar in the first place.

Groaning, he throws himself back on his bed; then he shouts as his head thumps into the wall. Typical. He rubs at the spot to soothe it. No bump, though it hurts like a bitch. Pain (and suspicion he just aggravated the previous head injury) aside, he's comfortable, thus he sprawls out and stares at the ceiling as planned.

He's been distracted. He knows that because literally everyone has been on his case about it. Gareth gives him smug smiles that have turned alarmingly calculated as the week has passed. Jeff and Marv, having been filled in by Gareth, are rather more amused in a benign way. His boss almost sent him home to recuperate after catching him staring into space for the third time. Uncle Wayne noticed something was off through the phone. And Max has been giving him weird looks.

Ah, little Max. The only person in the complex who doesn't steer clear of him. She doesn't actually know what went down – not completely. She knows he got injured, because she caught him and Gareth as they stumbled home while she was exiting her apartment to toss the trash. Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the plaster, and on Eddie's arm that was slung over Gareth's shoulders for support (at Gareth's insistence).

"You got in a fight?" she asked.

With a grin he'd exclaimed, "Battle? You know me better than that! Nay, I did my utmost to escape the violence... but the ruffian got to me regardless."

"Huh. You okay?"

Gareth had rolled his eyes. "He's fine. I mean, listen to him."

"Don't worry about me, Red." Eddie tapped his own head. "This ol' noggin is harder than it looks."

A corner of her mouth twisted up, though if it was in amusement he couldn't tell in the dim hallway. They ought to team up against the super; maybe their combined whining will have him finally fix that broken light bulb.

"Make sure you don't take aspirin or ibuprofen," she said. "It can-"

"Yeah, I know. Paramedic already told me."

"Good. Is our lesson still on?"

"Certainly, m'dear."

And then he'd tipped an imaginary hat, she snorted, and Gareth hauled his ass to bed.

He didn't see Max again until Sunday afternoon, when she came by for their aforementioned weekly guitar lesson. Parking themselves on each end of the couch, his acoustic in her lap, he'd made her play the 'homework' from the previous Sunday. It sounded pretty good. She honestly won't need his help soon – probably doesn't need it now. She understands basic theory and is diligent about practicing. He'd be fine with awarding her temporary custody of the guitar for a while. She insists on coming over, however, claiming she has to be perfect by the time of the next open mic down at Connie's Corner Coffee.

The reason she has to be perfect? Well. Eddie is pretty sure it's to impress her boy. She hasn't confirmed that it's for her boy, or even that she has one, but it totally is and she totally does. He knows this because 1. she becomes flustered and grumpy (grustered? Flumpy?) every time he brings it up, and 2. if she was learning to play for herself he'd be subjected to a lot more Pink Floyd and a lot less Curtis Mayfield.

It's cute, to be honest. Picking up an instrument for a boy you like? That's romantic as fuck. If he hadn't been the Lord of All Losers he would've serenaded tons of boys when he was younger. Hell, he'd do it now, if only there were anyone willing to listen. But he hasn't had as much as a date in ages, and none of his previous attempts at relationships ever reached the 'romantic gestures' stage.

Maybe he should ask Max to set him up with someone. Why not? She probably meets dozens of people every day, at the campus, at the skatepark, wherever else she hangs. If there's anyone who could sort out his disastrous love life, it's Max Mayfield. She's so put together, and she's not even 20 yet. She's got her own place (in a supremely shitty building, but still a place), she's got a man (reluctant as she is to admit it), and she is halfway through her math degree. A fucking math degree, for Christ's sake! Math majors are built for solving problems!

Maybe she could even calculate how many times he'd need to injure himself before he'd meet the one paramedic he wanted to kiss… him better.

It was around that point of his daydreaming that Max shot a hair tie at his forehead and demanded he stop zoning out and correct her hand placement.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing deeper than usual. "Have you been resting?"

"Yes. For the prescribed 48 hours, and then some. I'm fine."

She'd frowned, scrutinizing him with those pale blue eyes. He squared his shoulders and met her gaze like a man. Easier said than done, to be truthful. He likes Max – she's fun, easily the most kickass neighbor he's ever had – but she can be intense. And when she gets her stare on? She's downright creepy.

"I'd prefer to cancel over you fucking up your head more," she at last said, posture stiff and chin jutting. 'Don't lie to me,' is what she meant.

Eddie sighed. "Red… I'm fine. Seriously."

And he was. Physically speaking, at least. Mentally, he'd always been a little off. Part of the patented Munson charm, really.

She must've realized that, because she relaxed, her expression going from 'active bitch face' and back to 'resting'.

"All right. Sorry for being overbearing. It's just." She shrugged a shoulder, gripping the neck of the guitar as it started sliding off her crossed legs. "One of my closest friends is a medical professional. Another one is studying biology. They've been discussing human anatomy and… I guess they've gotten into my head."

Damn his friends for caring. How was he supposed to sell this image of a dark, dangerous, rocker dude if he was constantly misty-eyed from how sweet his buds were to him? He leaned forward to pat her knee.

"I appreciate the concern, unnecessary as it is. But!" He drew himself back and pointed in the air. "We're not postponing! Open mic is less than a month away – you only have so many days left before you'll be on that stage, in front of aaaaall those people… and your beau."

He's certain that if she hadn't still been sorta concerned about his health, she'd have smacked him.

That was Sunday afternoon. Now is Wednesday evening. He is still hung up on Thursday. He doesn't even know why. Yes, he was face-to-face with the hottest guy ever. Sure, that same guy has been the star of his most critically acclaimed fantasies. Indeed, he hasn't gotten laid in eons. Of course, he's pent-up with sexual frustration and yearning for another man's touch.

But still. He's not an animal or a sex-crazed teenager. He's smart enough to know that nothing good will come of this. It's not like he'll ever see Steve again. That'd be so unrealistic.

A knock on his front door reaches his ears. Eddie makes no effort to get up and answer it. He's not expecting anyone – whoever it is will have to return another day.

The knocking turns into a pounding, followed by yelling.

"Eddie! Let me in, asshole, I know you're there!"

Ugh. What does he want? Hasn't he heard of texting?

Eddie drags himself off the bed and toward the door. Yanking it open, he's met by Gareth's self-satisfied visage.

"Good evening," he says, heedless of Eddie’s glare. "I come hither with your solution."

"My solution?" Eddie mutters as he stalks to his couch to crumple into another heap.

Gareth follows him inside. "I have a plan to get your man!"

"What? Who? What?"

"Steve. November-paramedic," Gareth says, like it's obvious, which, what the actual fuck?

"He's not my man?"

"But he could be."

"Gareth, what the fuck-"

He moves to sit up, but Gareth's palm hits him square in the diaphragm and pushes him back down.

"No, listen: you are a terrible patient."

"I'm not-"

"Remember back in high school, when that asshole rear-ended us in the intersection at Hickory and 5th?"

Eddie grimaces. How could he forget? They'd stopped at a red light when a drunken motherfucker plowed into them, sending them careening into the T-junction. One car managed to break before hitting them; another veered only to crash into a fourth car. The result was, for them, whiplash injuries and, for the people who collided, bruises, sprains, and a dislocated joint. It had been the scariest moment of Eddie's life, and the neck pain had been excruciating. That wasted piece of shit was lucky no one died.

He says, "Yeah?"

"You were so snarky with that poor EMT."

"Okay, first off, I was a snot-nosed brat back then-"

"Dude, you were nineteen."

"-and she was rude to me first."

"She was following protocol!" Gareth shakes his head. "The point is that you never follow orders or instructions, not even when a doctor tells you to. But November-Steve? I've never seen you be so pliable."

"I-"

"And after, when I had to babysit you for two fucking days? I expected it to be difficult. But you were so busy sighing and yearning-" he says, ignoring Eddie's indignant sputtering, "-and replaying him tenderly caressing your face with his big, manly hands and holding your gaze with those big, manly eyes-"

"Do you want to fuck him?"

"-that you forgot to complain or be a contrarian about everything." Gareth smiles, sweet as cavities. "It was great. I'd like to recapture that. And if November-Steve is the one to bring it out of you, well!"

Eddie glowers at him. No, really! With the metaphorical thunder clouds swirling over his head and everything! His world has been shook. It is tilted off its axis, and it's his best friend's duty to mock him relentlessly for it. But this? Trying to encourage him? Give him hope? That's going too far.

Gareth notices. Of course he does; curse the heart on Eddie's sleeve. The sickly-sugary smugness evaporates off him, and he takes a seat on the dingy couch seat.

"Eddie," he says with a softness reserved for a select few individuals. "Seriously. You've been all moon-eyed for a week. You've been thinking about him. Really thinking."

Eddie balloons his cheeks and huffs out the air. "Well. If you spend two years jerking it to a guy-"

"Gross."

"-and then he suddenly appears before you, in the flesh? I've been fantasizing about it. He's a fantasy. And when it actually happens, that's…"

He trails off. Gareth knocks their shoulders together.

"He seemed nice."

Eddie scoffs. "I spoke to him for fifteen minutes. Tops."

"Fifteen nice minutes. You haven't dated in ages. Maybe this is a sign?"

Chuckling, Eddie slumps his head onto Gareth's shoulder. They're the wrong heights for it, so it's awkward and strenuous on the neck. He remains.

"You're just looking for another opportunity to embarrass me," he says.

"Embarrass you and improve your life. Like only true friends strive to do."

Eddie hums. "So what's your fucking plan?"

Gareth shifts, turning toward Eddie, but doesn't say anything yet. Glancing up, Eddie is met by a zoomed-in, upside-down view of Gareth's pointy grin, his canines gleaming.

"The university!"

------------------------------

Taglist: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround , @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid

No longer adding to the tag list, due to numbers and (hopefully temporary) technical difficulties. Please save or memorize the tag #steddie fic: november paramedic instead; all the parts will be there (unless something goes terribly wrong).

Thank you for reading! 🖤 ☺

Part 3

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Nik turns 50. TF 141 throw him a surprise party. (As the author continues to build their voices and headcanons in his head.)

cw: none.

“I can't believe Nik’s going to be fifty next week. The man's aging like a fine wine. It must be something in the water over there.”

It had been a fairly innocuous comment by Laswell over one of their frequent phone calls, but it had sent Price into an unfathomable tailspin.

Fifty.

Fifty was a big birthday where Price came from. The kind where the extended family, and wider community around them, were invited to a village hall for an old fashioned knees up, and you ended up carrying your uncle Rodney home so your aunt didn't smother him with a throw pillow after he pissed all over the doorstep.

Price had never really thought much about the families and wider lives of his contacts. They got the job done and then they parted ways. In every sense, a contact held the same position in Price's mind as the weapon in his hand; a tool to be used and then set aside once you were done.

But Nik… Nik was becoming more than a contact. A lot more. Price knew there was no uncle Rodney for Nik. There was no family whatsoever. No one special to mark half a century with, except maybe… fuck.

Price didn't share scotch with just anyone, let alone pass his cigar over for them to take a toke. As much as he respected Laswell, he was never inclined to spend hours with her chattin’ shit, until the sun broke through the blinds and they both had to slam some black coffee so they looked remotely presentable for their operators. His hand never lingered on anyone else's carrier vest, and no one else's voice made warmth and light curl in his chest.

No one else slotted against Price's... everything quite like Nikolai.

Price wasn't stupid. He knew what these signs meant, but that didn't mean he had any idea what the fuck to do about them. It was safer to just… be, too cowardly to progress any further. And yet, this felt like a milestone somehow.

“Captain, are you there? John?”

“Rog, yeah… uh. Continue.”

By the time Price had hung up, he had resolved to do something to mark Nik’s birthday. Laswell had coughed up the exact date and then slyly asked why Price was so interested. Her tone suggested she already had a hunch. “141 tradition,” he'd said, before hanging up. Rude, but she'd cope.

He finished some paperwork and turned in for the night, but sleep didn't come easy. His plans played out across the dark ceiling above his head and each time he settled on a course of action, he picked a hundred holes in it and cast it aside.

“Buy him a bottle of vodka and put a bow on your prick,” Simon said over eggs and bacon. The majority of the base was still asleep, with only a few other troopers skulking around the canteen.

Price choked on his gulp of tea and thumped his chest. “Classy, Simon.”

“You’ve been dancin’ round each other for years,” Simon murmured, rubbing at the stubble below the line of his mask. “Best time as any to pull the trigger.”

“Pot. Kettle. Black,” Price said as he stabbed at the bacon on his plate to emphasise each word.

“Fuck off,” Simon grumbled, “sir.”

Price snorted a laugh and they finished the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence. After a session in the gym, a myriad of brain-numbing meetings and supervising some training runs, Price was no closer to shaking out of his decision paralysis. If they were on mission he could have hashed out a plan without taking a breath, but he… didn't want to fuck this up. It felt too important.

Price was left with no choice but to consult professionals.

“Surprise party,” Soap said gleefully, chucking his playing cards onto the coffee table. “In th’ hanger, we invite him over tae ‘discuss an op’,” Soap lifted his fingers to emphasise the spoken quotation marks, “get Laswell tae send the invite.”

Gaz nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, then he won't suspect anything - oh, oh, I've got Farah's number, we can get her in on it. She’ll know if he’ll want anyone else, and… uh, you know, we’ll get clearance.”

“Right,” Price leaned back, arms folded over his chest. “So, what… we need food, and cake.”

“Aye, sir,” Soap said, squinting. “And booze. Gaz an’ I'll sort the logistics, and ye jus’ need tae sort the pressie.”

“We’re on it, sir. Leave it to us.”

The present. Price could do that. No worries.

Two days later, he stared down at the forty item long Amazon wishlist he had titled “Operation Black Hawk” and had no idea what to get. Something that walked the line of funny but sentimental, that said ‘you’re hot as fuck but I'm not desperate but I absolutely wank over you in the shower’.

“Fuckin Christ,” Price whispered at this office ceiling, slouched deep in his chair. He closed his eyes and forced his mind to quiet but for thoughts of Nik. Think, think.

So many conversations, ice tinkling against glass, low chuckles and borish jokes; a warm palm on Price’s shoulder and a smile so toothy it was contagious. Endless memories of time at Nik’s side. There had been that summer Nik had come fishing with him. Just a few days of peace before they both returned to the field. Nik had snoozed through most of it, exhausted by their previous mission, but in between he had surveyed the lake, watching the insects flit across the water.

“Попрыгунья Стрекоза. Лето красное пропела,” Nikolai had murmured.

“Cursing my ancestors?” Price had asked before gulping down a mouthful of beer.

Nik had chuckled. “Nyet, captain. It means a playful prankish Dragonfly, the whole summer have sung out. It is a poem by Ivan Karylov. One of my favourites.”

“Yeah? What's it about?”

“It is a fable...”

“Oh bloody hell, not another Russian morality lesson.”

“Pssh, this is good one. You will like it,” Nik had sat up in his camping chair. “It is about a beautiful dragonfly who spends her summer dancing and resting, while the hardworking ant prepares. When winter comes, she begs the ant for help, but he refuses, because he worked hard and she did not.”

“Harsh but fair. Work hard, play hard, them’s the rules..”

“You see, I knew you would like it. You are an ant. You earn your rest. This,” Nik had gestured at fishing tackle, the camping equipment, and the lake, “is the fruit of your labour, and I am privileged to share it with you, my friend.”

“And I you, mate.”

They had knocked their bottles together and moments later one of Price’s reels had begun spinning out. By that point they'd drunk so much that landing the damn carp had left them both up to their knees in lake water, pissing themselves laughing on the bank. It had been both the worst and best fishing expedition of Price’s life.

Price opened his eyes in the present and grinned at the ceiling, digging his phone out of his pocket. He knew exactly what he was going to get Nik.

The rest of the week sprinted by quicker than a RAF pilot on his way to a champagne dinner, and before he knew it Price was standing on a rickety plastic chair hanging a bloody banner from a rusty nail high on the hanger wall.

“It's wonky, cap,” Gaz said just as Price was climbing down.

“I think you'll find your eyes are wonky, sergeant.”

“Of course, sir. I'll get that sorted.”

Price pressed his hands to the small of his back and glanced around at the preparations. The sergeants had done well. Soap had even managed to draft Simon in on the booze run and there was a healthy selection of spirits on the buffet table by the birthday cake. It was a Colin Caterpillar from Marks and Spencers, one of Nik's favourite shops to visit when he was in the UK, with a joke candle stuck in the top that he wouldn't be able to blow out. Soap's idea.

The majority of Chimera had turned up to mark the occasion, as had a few faces Price recognised from previous ops with other organisations and task forces. Soap had said a few didn't quite pass the bar for security clearance, which wasn't surprising.

It was just as Gaz and Soap were bickering over the playlist that they heard the telltale drum of helicopter blades beat overhead. “Places, places!” Soap crowed from the hanger door, slamming the lights off. Booted feet scuttled across the dusty floor to find hiding places behind the vehicles and crates stacked around the edges, and Price joined Soap by the door.

Several minutes passed, and then… “And you have no idea where the weapons store is?”

“None at all, Nik. Price should have more intel,” Laswell replied. She had rendezvoused with Nik in Germany as part of the plan. Her wife was currently squatting behind a crate with Gaz.

“I hope so or this will be a difficult mission.”

Soap was practically vibrating at Price's shoulder as Nik rounded the corner. He slammed on the lights and everyone erupted from their hiding places on cue. Price didn't miss how Nik’s hand dropped for his sidearm, his eyes blown wide.

“Laswell, what is–?”

“Happy birthday, Nikolai,” she said, walking by to plant a kiss on her wife's cheek.

“I–” Nik glanced around the hanger as he accepted hugs from Gaz and Syd, handshakes from others, still bewildered. “How–?”

“It was th’ captain's idea,” Soap said, jutting his chin at Price. “He told us ye were hittin’ the big five-oh, old man. Ye not gettin’ off that easy.”

“Here, drink,” Simon grunted, pressing a glass into Nik's hand. “I'm startin’ the food, Johnny. I've been patient.”

“Aye, L.T. Bust open th’ sarnies. Farah, th’ ones on the left are halal - aye, bet.”

Nik was drawn into conversation briefly and Price hung back, glancing at the badly wrapped parcel he'd stashed on top of an empty oil container. He was so focused on his internal misgivings that Nik’s hand on his elbow made him startle. “Oi, give me a bloody heart attack…”

“You did this?”

“MacTavish and Garrick did this,” Price said.

Nik, who knew that the 141 did nothing without Price's express permission, grinned toothily. They stood in silence as he surveyed the many faces scattered around the hanger, some shoving sandwiches in their faces while others swigged from freshly open bottles. “I… have never had a birthday party before.”

“What? Not even as a kid?”

Nik shrugged one shoulder. “Nyet, it was not a… priority.” He looked back at Price, dark eyes heavy with something complex and unreadable. “Thank you.”

Price swallowed and tried to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. “You're uh… you're welcome, I… got you something. But, uh…” Before he could wuss out, Price grabbed the poorly wrapped parcel and shoved it into Nik's hands. “Happy birthday.”

Nik set his glass aside. “Your wrapping skills are…”

“Bloody fantastic.”

“...unique.”

“I'll take it.”

Nik huffed a laugh as he tore the brown paper away and flipped the book over in his hands. Price was relieved to see his face brighten. “Aesop’s fables. Captain, this is beautiful…”

To be fair, it was a damn pretty book. The hardcover was illustrated with the animals from the fables, the pages edged in gold, and the inside cover was patterned. You know… posh. And then Nik found the second part, tucked about a quarter of the way through. It was a photograph from their fishing expedition. A rough selfie, with half a fish head in shot where Nik was trying to display their catch, and Price’s face smeared with mud from where he had stumbled onto the bank.

Nik's eyes lingered on it, his fingertips brushing over their grinning faces, and he swallowed.

Price panicked. “I'm sorry, it's shit, I'll uhm–”

Nik pulled him into an embrace that crushed the air from his lungs. There was definitely a stutter in Nik’s chest, and Price wrapped his arms around him in return. If he happened to turn his nose into Nik's neck, and Nik happened to press his face a little closer, then that was fine. More than fine.

Price's toes curled in his boots, his fingers tightened in Nik’s shirt, the aching in his chest becoming that much harder to ignore. “You alright?”

“Da,” Nik said tightly. “I just need a minute.”

“Take all the time you need,” Price murmured, closing his eyes as he cradled Nik against him. He didn't mark the time, happy to revel in the warmth of the solid body in his arms, and the smell of Nik's skin, pressed so close Price could feel the thrum of his heartbeat.

When Nik finally pulled away, slightly reddened eyes lingered on Price’s lips before turning to the rest of the party, who were doing a shitty job of pretending they hadn't all been watching. “Later, I would… like to spend some time with you.”

Price didn't want to examine the heat under his skin too closely, lest it be entirely misplaced. “Course.”

“Nik, get over ‘ere tae blow th’ oot before Ghostie eats yer cake’s face!”

Nik tucked his book under his arm and walked over to the buffet table with Price to a horrifically off-key rendition of ‘happy birthday’. Once Nik had worked the candles out, flicking them at Soap with a loud Russian cuss, festivities descended, as they usually did on base, into raucous drinking games and whatever the sergeants decided passed for dancing. Simon lost the Ring of Fire and had to down the filthiest pint Price had ever seen in his life, Laswell thrashed them all at beer pong and Gaz tried to teach Farah how to do the worm. As far as fiftieth birthday parties went, it definitely beat out the village hall knees up.

Later, when the majority of the party had slunk off to dark corners, fallen asleep where they sat or retired in good order, Nik pulled his captain back into his arms and kept him there until the sun rose. Except, this time, they did a damn sight more than talk.

[igotanidea]

Alarm clock : Jason Todd x reader

As promised :D

Summary/request : Jason todd x shy chubby reader (kinda) soft smut? (reader have a praise kink and likes nipple play)

warnings: summary is pretty self-explanatory, SMUT MINORS DNI, pretty much pwp

***

Early mornings right before work was arguably the worst moment for getting close, but Jason Todd was never the one to stick to basic rules of behavior. After all, who would dare to tell him when to or when not to devour his precious girl? Nights were off limits since he was patrolling, so the only time left was in fact early hours.

And he was going to use the opportunity the second he felt Y/N stir in his embrace. Her soft, warm, plump body being so perfect, already responding to his touches and caresses. Trembling slightly when he slid one hands under her sleeping T-shirt and traced patterns on the bared skin.

“Mhmmm.” She mumbled groggily, squirming against him, his arms trying to keep her in place and pulling her closer instead of letting go. “what time is it?”

“I’ll let you guess” he chucked, kissing her exposed shoulder from behind, soft lips moving towards girl’s neck, making her lean into him. “How is that for an answer?” he muttered against her skin.

“Jay….I’ll be late.” She tried to object, slightest blush creeping in on her face. She was so shy it was actually making him want her even more. No way in hell he was going to let her go without proper good morning.

“No, you won’t.” he teased, not stopping worshiping her.

“How so?” she whined lightly when he started rubbing circles on her waist, getting so annoyingly close to the waistband of her pants.

“I might have shifted your alarm clock to get some extra time with you.”

“Really?” she turned around facing him, her eyes still a bit blurry from the sleep “aren’t you a little bit too tricky, Todd?”

“Gotta keep up with my little vixen.” He smirked and before she realized what was happening pushed her onto her back hovering over her with glistening eyes. “You are mine, you know that?”

“Jace…..” she squealed, trying to make her voice stern and warning, but was way to desperate and needy to pull this off. She was always needy for him, even if it was always hard to admit. “Please, don’t do this…..”

“You’re not really convincing, baby.” He smirked again putting his lips on hers, briefly, almost imperceptibly, leaving her wanting, exposing her true need and want.

“I have to …..”

“Nonsense, princess. Your only job is staying with me and letting me please you.”

“But….” Her face reddened even more than before, her chest heaving.

“Do you really want me to stop?” he reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up a few centimeters, her skin immediately corresponding with goosebumps. (how was it possible that no matter the weather, morning in this apartment were always cold?). “Just say the word if you do” he teased, moving to nibble on the skin of her neck, finding her soft spot and eliciting a whine. ”Anytime now.”

“I…. oh fuck, don’t. Don’t stop. Please.”

“Not going to.” With one swift motion he pulled her shirt off completely, eyes blown with lust at the view underneath him. Those perfect breast, soft, round, belly, the curve of her waist and ass, and most importantly, her miraculous thick thighs.  So fucking perfect. “Are you cold, baby?” he cooed, running fingers over her shivering skin.  

“So fucking cold….” She gasped, locking arms on his neck and pulling him for a kiss, shyness aside, the crave of his warmth and his body finally winning the fight. “I’m freezing, Jason.”

“I can help with that.” His hands moved toward her waist, lips never leaving hers, not needing air, breath, nothing. She was his everything, everything he could possibly need.

“Jason.” she pushed him away slightly, resting hands on his chest and avoiding his gaze, too flustered to voice what and where she wanted. And this time he did not force her to look up when she whispered “I need your mouth elsewhere.”

“Really?” He licked said lips in a predatory motion “care to elaborate on that, baby?”

“Stop teasing me. You… you know what I mean.”

“I live on teasing you.” he let out a laugh, but obediently bowed his head, aiming at her breast. Fuck, those perfect, plump breast, that fit perfectly in his hands. So soft, the sensation of her skin incomparable with anything else. “So tell me.” He massaged both of her tits at the same time and his cock throbbed as he watched her arch her back into his touch and whimper “does this feel good?”

“So good, Jace. Please…. I….. I want more…”

“Really? More? Like what?”

“Jason! Please!” she squirmed and let out a whimper. A fucking whimper. If she wasn’t doing it involuntarily he would probably have more strength to torture her a bit more, but it was completely unintentional and he crumbled.

“All right baby, all right. Fuck, I love when you are begging for me. Makes me look less desperate myself.”

“Use those mouths for something useful for fuck’s sake!”

“Oh, not so timid anymore, are you?”

Jason grinned wildly and finally put them on her right breast, kissing all over and biting lightly, soothing the mark with the tiniest, kitten lick move of his tongue. Avoiding the nipple, obviously, since that was the best part and he was going to safe it for the end. A perfect feast topped out by the perfect dessert.

“So sweet….” He whined grabbing the other breast and squeezing it. “so good for me, aren’t you?” Y/N’s hand tangled in his messy hair, guiding  his head where she needed most and this time he did not object, sucking lightly on that sensitive rose bud. At this point he himself could not hold back a groan. She was the one who liked nipple play, but the truth was, Jason enjoyed it even more. Just a simple thought that he was the one to satisfy her and make all her dream and wildest fantasies come true was doing things to him. “such a good girl.” He muttered incoherently keeping on devouring her, slowly moving to the other breast, neglected and forgotten and repeating his actions. Such simple gestures and she was already falling apart, tugging on his hair.

“so good Jace, keep going, please.”

“I thought you were hurrying to work?” he mocked

“I thought you reset my alarm?” she retorted, panting, distracted by his movements, now enriched by grinding against her body

“Now that I think about I come to the conclusion that should have reserved a bit more time for my baby. Do you need me?”

“Yes!”

“How much? Is it as much as I need you, princess?”

“YES!”

“Show me.”

Show me!? He was pinning her to bed, putting on his weight on her and she was supposed to show him? How?!

“Oh, I’ll show you.” she squirmed a bit, freeing one of her hands and putting it on the tent in his pants “someone’s excited.” She whispered into his ear, biting on his earlobe, palming the erection and making him grind against her more. “Let me take those off.” she begged

“Only if you let me undress you fully too.”

“Do it now. I need you Jason. I want you. Inside me. Now.”

“Fuck!” he hissed, almost tearing her pants, exposing her to him completely “you are so perfect. So fucking perfect” he grabbed her waist pressing his clothed cock into her, kissing her hungrily, desperately, completely overwhelmed by the feel of her underneath him. Due to all the sensation he was giving her, she completely forgot she was about to free him as well. Y/N just melted into his touch, not giving a fuck about anything but him.

“take those off. I want you whole, Jace. Please…” she commanded and he threw his jeans away, their bodies pressed together fully, caressing each other’s body, exploring, wandering in all the possible places still craving more. It wasn’t nearly as close as they needed. “I’m so wet for you. Use it. Take me, Jason.”

“I love you.” he panted pushing inside, filling her fully.  “god, so good. So good. All mine. Tell me you’re mine. Please, I need to hear you say it. You’re my girl. Only mine.”

“I am.” she held him tighter, legs wrapping around his waist “love me, Jace. I just need you. It’s good. You can move.”

“How do you want me today, princess?” he nibbled on the skin of her neck, barely holding back from going all in, but still waiting for the answer.

“Gentle. I want to feel you close.”

“You have me.” He slowly started pulling in and out. There was no rush in it. No fucking, no animalistic sex and lustful need. It was emotional and sensual. Jason was focused on each moan and whine coming from her, each spasm of her body against his, on the way she picked up the pace he set. It was love making rather than just sex. Perfect expression and display of how much they loved each other on so many different levels in ways words could never describe.

“Jason…” she panted, nails clawing on his back, wordlessly showing him how close she was.

“I’m here, baby. I got you.” he pushed a bit harder into her, getting another string of her sweet sounds “Come for me. I know you are close. Just let go. You’re safe with me. So good, so perfect.” his thumbs brushed her pebbled nipples again and it was all he needed to finally reach orgasm. 

“Jace….” She panted, not letting go riding that high with him “I want to make you feel good too.”

“You sure, baby?”

“Like of nothing else. Don’t hold it.”

“Fuck, you are just so perfect.” he groaned, not able to control himself anymore, filling her with his cum, not letting go until his balls were completely empty, kissing her with all the passion he had until exhaustion took over and he pulled away. “I’m yours, baby” he repeated with softer voice, laying on his back and guiding her on his chest, soothing her back, wanting nothing more than to keep her in the sheets forever, to never be parted with her “do you really have to go?”

“Yeah. I do.” She kissed his chest lightly. “But I suddenly got some more motivation to get through the day.”

“I wonder why.” Jason smirked

“Don’t push it, lover boy.”

“I’m gonna miss you.”

“Guess next time you’ll set the clock even earlier.”

“If I were to say a thing you would never fall asleep again. I know how to keep you up all night, baby.”

@jasontoddsthickbabe

[marleyybluu]

Just Sit On It

Spooky x f!reader

Warnings: 18+. bit of fluff and flirting, bit of cockwarming, very much self-insert (inspired by yesterdays events), no use of y/n

Word count: 980

A/N: I had to give this to my favourite boy🤷🏾‍♀️

(Not my gif.)

"You want me to just sit on it?" You ask with fake annoyance in your voice and a quirk in your brow. Spooky chuckled and nodded, a little glimmer in his eye as he looked at you. You two had just finished... whatever round of sex that was, you'd lost count after a while. Both of you high as fuck and missing each other after months of no physical contact, chuck it up to being adults with busy schedules. Sucked.

You were done, out of it and tired— growing a bit sore from how he handled you, not like you'd complain anyway you liked it. You thought he was done too, when you attempted to bait him into one last round he'd respectfully hit you with, "Nah I'm tired for real."

You shrugged and put your shirt back on, chilling in the comfortable silence aside from your music softly playing in the background. You hated a quiet room, especially during sex. But it only took a few minutes for his shirt to come back off claiming to be hot... well it was hot, summer was approaching a lot quicker than it usually did and it was the type of heat to make you angry and irritated with any and everything.

As he lay on his stomach you smiled gazing at his back, how smooth and muscular it was, clean and free of tattoos, unlike the rest of his body. He felt your eyes and asked what was up. You told him you wanted to sit on his back and he let you, you drew faint art on his beautiful skin, and ran your finger down his deep spine. Oof, you loved a deep spine, something about the depth of it was so sexy.

Soon he mentioned he wanted to take off his pants. Again, he was "hot." So you got off and he took off more than just his pants, he nodded over for you to come back and you say there. "I thought you said you were good?"

"I am."

"So why would I just sit on it if you're good?" You challenged with a smirk on your face. Spooky wasn't about to have this back and forth, actions were louder so he sat up and reached over for you, cupping your meaty thigh in his large hand and pulling you on top of him. You gasped feeling him against your sore and yet aching clit.

"Just sit." He shrugged. "And this is comfortable for you?"

He nodded reaching for your hands, interlocking your fingers with his. God, he was just so fucking cute sometimes. You looked down at him as he looked up at you, nothing was said and that's what you liked about your dynamic, you two could just sit like this. Naked or half naked talking about whatever was on your mind or not talking at all.

Adorn by Miguel had come on and you began to hum and absentmindedly move around, for a brief moment forgetting you were both naked on your lower halves. Spooky smiled it was always nice to see you comfortable around him considering when you first met you were so shy you wouldn't even look at him.

He let go of your hands and rested his warm palms on your hips. "Come here."

You beamed and with no hesitation leaned over to meet his lips. Your hands rested on either side of his neck, your lips moving in sync— you could kiss that man all day if it was possible. You felt the bottom of your shirt hike up and pool over your lower back, his hands on your bare ass once again. His favourite part to grab.

One last peck and you pulled back. Spooky noticed the look on your face, a look he was too familiar with— when you wanted to say something but you were too chickenshit to say it, still a bit reserved with your thoughts even though it was clear you could be open and honest with him. "Say it. I could see it in your face." 

You sighed all this temptation was getting to you. "You wanna put it in?" He asked. You bit your lip and nodded, silently thanking God that he was a mind reader at times. You leaned forward reaching between your bodies you gently wrapped your hand around his girth and slowly sunk down on him, he always stretched you out so nicely. 

And that was it, you just sat on it and it was nice (?) and warm... really warm and slick. You actually did not want to move but he did, pushing his hips up into yours, you placed your hand on his chest saying, "Wait, don't move." 

He stopped his actions and resumed holding hands with you. "You're so pretty." He complimented, you blushed looking to the side so he wouldn't notice how embarrassing it was that you couldn't take compliments, especially from him. Your slight distraction was cut short when you felt him move, you giggled turning to him. "Stop..." 

He did it again. "Stop what?" 

"Spooky... I can feel it- ouu, stop." 

He rested his hands under his head and let out a hearty laugh at how flustered you were until he was now feeling something, with your hands planted on his chest you looked down at him with a knowing look. He let out a shaky moan when you did it again. "You stop." 

"Stop what?" 

"Baby, shit, I can feel you tightening around me." You were easily flexing your walls around him in retaliation. He pushed his hips up into you causing you to moan and fall forward, he did it again, carefully thrusting in and out of you-- your pretty love faces like artwork, his favourite thing to watch. You sucked your teeth in realization. 

"Did you just bait me into another round?" 

"Always." 

Slick motherfucker.

Y’all… oof I had to. I’m still reminiscing. I miss my man😭

If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic

Comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Peace and love🤞🏾

🏷️ : @skyesthebomb @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit

[calypsocolada]

WINNER WINNER | r. zoro

(click here for part two)

synopsis: a stoic swordsman helps you figure out what your type is. authors note: hi :] i like zoro. no other notes. cw: violence, fluff, small bit of angst, clueless!reader, kissin :*, zoroxreader, small bit of sanjixreader wc: 4.4k

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Zoro’s wooden practice sword swung in an unpredictable arch, you knew you couldn’t avoid it so you turned, letting it smack hard against your shoulder. Pain zaps through your body, the hit more annoying than painful. 

“Ow!” You growled, eyes narrowing. Zoro danced around you, you never knew how light-footed he could be, how quick and precise his sword play was. Zoro was a huge man, he was easily two feet taller than you, built like a damn freight train and somehow still quicker than you. Zoro’s mouth quirked up in a smart ass smirk, his brows raising tauntingly. 

“I thought you said you were getting better.” He jested, obviously trying to get a rise out of you. You took the bait every damn time. You swing your sword in anger. 

“I am!” You yelled, he dodged your assault with ease, playfully hitting your back as you stumbled forwards. You gained your footing and spun back around, swinging again but he just bats it away lazily. 

“Come on, killer, swing with purpose not with anger.” He says listlessly, like he’s bored with this. 

Of course he was bored, he was probably the best swordsman in the world, you were just some idiot pirates daughter. It had been a few months since escaping your fathers crew and although you were one of your fathers best fighters you fought more close combat style, with knives mostly. Swords were long and heavy, especially the ones Zoro used. It was like he made them out of boulders rather than steel. But right now you were using practice swords because you’re sure that if this was a real fight you’d be dead and buried. 

You grip the handle of the sword hard, knuckles turning white. You weren’t used to defeat, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Zoro’s stretched a bit, yawning. The anger always took you over. You were your fathers daughter after all. You pretended to swing the sword again, with clumsy maneuvering and when Zoro went to bat it away you chucked the sword aside, dodging his blade, hitting him square in the stomach with your shoulder. It was meant to take him down but he didn’t budge against you. It was as though you were pushing against a damn tree. You remembered just then how it felt fighting your father, how unmovable he was. You were raising your knee before you could even stop yourself as he knee him square between the legs. A rush of air leaves his lips and the way his body shifts you know you finally caught him off balance. You sweep a leg out from under him and with all the force in your body you shove against him. You both slam against the forest floor, your hips straddling his abs as you jam your forearm down against his neck, successfully pinning him beneath you. He looks up at you with immeasurable annoyance. 

“You’re a dirty fighter.” He huffs, groaning in pain. You nod your head, a proud fact you already knew. 

“You’ve met my father, right?” You jest. This was something new you were learning. Since joining up with Luffy’s crew there were a few things you had to learn. 

They weren’t out to get you. 

You were raised by a killer, his crew were a bunch of killers so naturally you grew up always keeping watch of those around you because the moment you slacked out someone would have their hands around your neck just waiting to extinguish your fire. 

2. You had to soften up and learn to work as a member of a team. 

This one you were still working on. You were alone most of your life, your father never spared you a kind word and sometimes at night you’d lay awake, knowing you were just like him sometimes. You guarded every part of your heart so well that sometimes you could trick yourself into thinking you never had one to begin with. But it beat the day you met Luffy’s crew. They saved you, even when you were good, they knew who and where’d you’d come from and still accepted you for who you were. That meant to you that you had to change. If you wanted to stay a member of this crew you had to let them in. You couldn’t push them away because one bad day would come and they’d stay away. You didn’t think you could survive that. Knowing that there was warmth in this world that you turned cold. 

3. Lastly, how to protect someone. 

You could protect yourself just fine because you’d been left behind in wakes your entire life. But you wouldn’t do that to them. You’d stay and fight because that’s what they did for you. You weren’t just looking out for yourself anymore, you had people, possibly a family, it’d take the devil himself to pull that from your grip. 

“Yeah I met him, he’s an asshole, like you.” Zoro grunts, his pinned hands escaping from your fingers as he turns the tide, swinging you to your back, pressing you into the dirt. You’re not sure where his sword came from but the wooden edge of it was pressed gently against your throat. He beat you. You groaned out a sigh as he cocked his head to the side. 

“I had you.” You fume as he purses his lips, he’s heavy against you, it feels like ten men rather than one. 

“For a second.”

“That’s all a killer needs.” You dared. He must’ve seen that look in your eyes before because he presses the sword ever closer to your neck, but not hard enough to actually hurt. 

“We’re done for today.” He says and suddenly his weight is lifted off you and you feel as though you could finally breathe again. You didn’t know you were holding your breath. Zoro extends a hand to you, narrowing his eyes. “No funny business, I’m hungry.” He warns because for someone who’s only known you for a few months he knows you pretty damn well. Knew that look in your eye, that you would take his hand and end up trying to pin him beneath you again. He knew you hated to lose. You took his hand and did nothing of the sort because you were hungry too. He pulled you to your feet with ease and kept hold of your hand for a second as he spoke. “You’re a good fighter, don’t give up on practicing.” He says and the look in his eye is intense, he meant it. He lets your hand go and bends to grab the practice sword that you tossed aside. 

“I don’t see the point in it, I fight better close.” 

“You can fight better any way you choose. You master the sword and you give yourself more options.” He says, tossing it to you, you catch it with ease.

“More options?”

“To survive. You want that don’t you?” He asks over his shoulder, walking back towards the camp that the crew had set up near the beach. You never thought of it like that before. You learned how to fight because your father needed someone unassuming to kill. Who’s more unassuming than a young girl? You always fought to kill, to end lives, you never cared much for your own. Who could care for a killer after all? Zoro slowed, tossing a glance over his shoulder at you after you took too long to answer.

“Of course I want that.” But your words sounded hollow. There was still that nagging voice of your fathers. There was only so many times someone you looked up to could call you worthless before you started to believe it. It was ingrained in you. To live but not feel worthy of life. Maybe you did want to live, but that didn’t mean you felt like you deserved to. You’d done wrong your entire life, killed and followed in the footsteps of someone you knew was bad. Didn’t that make you guilty of something? 

Zoro’s eyes dissected you, that face you made and the tone of your voice. He was a smart man and for all his faux uninterested stare he read you like a damn book. Like he’d cracked open your mind and read your innermost secrets. It was strange, having someone who you couldn’t fool. Someone who could look at you and call bullshit. 

“Do you just want to survive for the sake of others or for yourself?” He asked, slowing to a stop. Crickets chirped around you, wind picking up, swaying the leaves of the trees gently. You stopped too, mindlessly turning the practice sword over in your hands. 

“Is that a trick question?” You asked and watched him shake his head. You turn the question over in your head. “Surviving for yourself is quite selfish right?” 

“Not necessarily.” He breathes out, walking and plopping down listlessly on a stump, he stretches out his legs. “You charge into things head on, you don’t wait for others to act.”

“That’s a good thing.” You cross your arms defensively. “How else would you catch enemies by surprise?”

“By others I meant your crew. When you charge into things you could end up getting hurt.” He countered, you kick at a raised root and toss your head back a bit dramatically. 

“But if I kill the bad guys first you guys have nothing to worry about.” 

“We’d still worry about you.”

“Why?” You questioned as though someone worrying about you was way out of the realm of possibility. 

“Because you aren’t a martyr, we don’t need you throwing yourself on the knife.” Zoro argues, it’s one of the first times he seems interested in what he’s talking about. Passionate even. “I know what you’re used to. That’s why I wanted to train you.”

“So I can fight with a long blade instead of a short one?” You quipped. 

“So you can fight next to me.” He says as though you should’ve known. You look up from the ground over to him. He has this strange look in his eyes, the kind of strange look Sanji gave you sometimes, though Sanji looked at every girl like that. But not Zoro, the man was inexpressive usually. 

“Fight next to you?” You echo, as if trying the words out loud would give them a different meaning. Zoro nods his head. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice? Not having to wonder who has your back?” He asks. You look at him, something stirring inside you. 

“Is that what you want?” You start. “Someone who can keep up with you?” 

He nods his head. 

“Don’t you?” You ponder it for a moment. 

“I guess, yeah.” You say softly. “I feel like I keep up with you just fine.”

“You could be better.” Zoro jests, pushing off the stump he sat on.  

“I took you down, big man.” You growl, jogging to catch up with him as the sun starts to set. 

“You cheated.”

“I was being… resourceful.” You said and heard Zoro laugh, a warm laugh coming from his chest. You never heard him laugh before, probably in the same way he’d never heard you laugh. You both were somewhat serious types. 

“Sure, let’s call it that.” He intones. 

Back at the campsite the first person to greet you and Zoro was Sanji. Ever since landing on this island Sanji had been acting somewhat differently to Zoro, almost colder. You had no idea what that was about and honestly you didn’t care, not presently because they always bickered anyways. 

“There you guys are!” Sanji all but growls, shooting dagger at Zoro. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He says, giving you a kind smile.

“We didn’t mean to keep you guys, you could’ve eaten.” You say as Sanji shakes his head, guiding you with a gentle hand on your back towards the food. 

“Nonsense, it was no trouble.” Sanji croons as you look towards the rest of the crew. Luffy has his hands crossed against his chest tightly, his face scrunched in annoyance. 

“It was a little trouble.” Luffy grumbles as Sanji shoots daggers at him. You sit down, Sanji occupying the seat next to you as Zoro plops down in the sand across from you. It's quiet as everyone digs into their food. 

“How is it?” Sanji asks, eyes watching you. You’d just filled your mouthful, unable to answer right at that moment.

“It’s a little salty.” Usopp chided as Sanji hurled a dinner roll at him.

“I wasn’t asking you!” Sanji ranted, the roll hitting Usopp square between the eyes. You and Luffy both snort in laughter. You laugh, almost choking on your food which serves to make you two laugh even harder. Sanji turns to you with a worried expression, lightly hitting your back as you're able to swallow your food properly. You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you give Sanji a small smile. 

“It tastes good, Sanji, thank you.” You say and Sanji practically melts. 

“Usopp’s right,” Zoro starts, a mischievous look in his eyes. “It’s a bit salty.” Sanji’s eyes turn to slits as he grabs another roll, hucking it at Zoro who catches it with ease, grinning before taking a bite out of it. 

“I don’t care what you think because my dear Y/n likes it.” Sanji proclaimed, turning to you. “Would you like some more, dear?”

“Sure.” You shrug as he practically stumbles over himself to grab you more. Your eyes meet with Zoro’s, he gives you a wink and you roll your eyes. Zoro liked messing with Sanji and most of the time it was pretty funny. Sanji took a big liking to you and Zoro liked to tease him about it. You weren’t sure what it was that Sanji liked about you but he was always quick to give you anything you asked for. Sanji fills your plate and as the night winds down Luffy, Nami and Usopp take off for bed. 

You sit by the fire next to Sanji, your legs pulled to your chest as he leans back, eyes staring at the stars. It’s quiet, just the sound of the fire crackling and the waves of water crashing nearby. Your eyes watch the fire as it slowly lulls you into comfort. Suddenly a blanket is placed over your shoulders as you blink, eyes watering. You turn to see Zoro as he plops down near you. You silently thank him, pulling the covers closer to your chest, shielded from the cold. Something burning hotter was the look you caught sight of from Sanji, he looked as though he was seconds away from challenging Zoro to a duel. But when he noticed you his face morphed into a smile again. 

“Is a measly blanket gonna be enough to keep you warm, my dear?” Sanji asks. “I could scoot closer to you?” He offers.

“The blanket’s good.” You answer, unaware of the implications. Zoro snorts beside you, amused at something you weren’t sure of. 

“Do you have something to add, Zoro?” Sanji hisses as Zoro, face unphased as he shrugs his shoulders. 

“Sanji?” You start.

“Yes, dear?” He asks, voice all soft, way different from the tone he was using a second ago. 

“Did Zoro do something to make you angry?” You ask, making Zoro snort again. Sanji shakes his head.

“Nothing more than usual, dear, no need to worry.” He says and you nod your head, satisfied with that answer, eyes sliding back towards the fire. “Could I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” You hum, watching the flames flicker and dance. 

“What’s your type?” He asks. Zoro doesn’t snort this time, he fully laughs, gaining an angry stare from Sanji. “Shut your mouth you damn idiot!” Sanji yells across the fire at Zoro. “You’re ruining the moment!”

“My type of what?” You ask cluelessly. Zoro can’t help but laugh even more. You look over at him, confused but he’s laughing so hard his eyes are closed. You look back at Sanji.

“Ignore that damn fool, dear. Your type in a partner.” He explains. 

“Type in a partner?” You echo, Zoro slowly quiets down next to you. Sanji nods his head. You purse your lips, thinking. You and Zoro fought pretty well together the few times you had to, it was just mere hours ago that he told you he liked the idea of fighting with you and you had to admit you didn’t mind that also. “I guess Zoro would be my type.” You say, completely unaware of the havoc you just caused. Sanji clamps a hand to his chest dramatically over his heart. You look at Zoro, his cheeks blushing a moment before he begins a fit of laughter all over again. Understanding the miscommunication before you and Sanji do. 

“You hear that, Sanji? I’m her type.” Zoro boasts jokingly, throwing an arm around your shoulders, loving the effect it was having on Sanji. Sanji looked like a deflated balloon. Sanji sinks back into the sand as you cock your head, confused. Zoro gives your shoulder a small squeeze as you look back over at him. “He meant romantic partner.” He whispers just to you. Your eyebrows raise, mouthing the word ‘oh’.

“I’m sorry, Sanji, I thought you meant fighting partner.” You corrected and Sanji shot back up, hopefulness on his face again.

“It’s okay, dear, you scared me there.” Sanji sighs wistfully, running a hand through his hair. Zoro’s arm moves away from you as you look back at him. 

“Keep it there.” You order softly. “I was getting warm.” Zoro’s brows raise in surprise but he does as you ask, even scooting a bit closer to you. When you look back at Sanji his jaw is practically touching the sand. “What?” You ask innocently, he shuts his mouth instantly, shaking his head. 

“N-nothing.” He turns away, kicking sand at the fire. You feel Zoro laugh softly. You had no idea what sort of nonverbal conversation these two were having and honestly you didn’t care to know. You close your eyes, leaning into Zoro’s warmth. Romantic partner. You were thinking about it now because you’d never thought about it before. There was no love where you came from, no positive role models, no romantic tension. That stuff was way out of your realm of understanding.

“How do you know your type?” You ask, turning to look at Sanji. His eyes meet yours, his eyes glancing at Zoro’s arm around your shoulders then back to you. 

“That's a hard one to explain.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Is it something you just know?” You ask and Sanji nods his head. 

“More or less, yeah,” Suddenly he lets out a big yawn, stretching. “Boy am I beat. Are you tired?” He asks you.

“Not really.” You say and watch as he pouts. 

“Maybe you should head off to bed then.” Zoro says. Sanji’s eyes glare his way as he grumbles, pushing up from the sand and dusting himself off. 

“Night,” He says sharply, trudging across the sand back towards the ship. You watch him go. 

“He is so strange.” You whisper, earning a warm laugh from Zoro. 

“You're clueless, you know that.” He remarked with another soft laugh. You turn to look at him.

“Why?” You ask, his eyes slide to yours. 

“He likes you, killer, a lot.” Zoro explains. You furrow your brows, you already knew he liked you, he treated you very kindly. “And I know what you're thinking. It’s not that kind of like.”

“What other kind is there?” This garners another laugh. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry,” Zoro chuckles, smiling warmly. “He likes you… romantically.” He emphasizes and suddenly everything starts falling into place in your mind. He was always going out of his way for you, giving you extra food, following you around like a lost puppy, practically begging for your attention. 

“Hm.” You hum, turning back to look at the fire. 

“Hm?” Zoro echoes. “You sound mildly uninterested.”

“Eh, I don’t- I guess I don’t understand.”

“Which part?”

“Why would he like me? That makes no sense.” You say and for a moment Zoro is quiet, you turn to look at him, his cheeks pink, probably from the heat of the fire you guessed. 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asks. And when you just look at him quizzically he pities you a bit. He inhales, sighing. “You do know you're gorgeous right?” He asks as though you did know that. That was not what you were expecting him to say. You can’t remember the last time someone referred to you in a positive connotation. 

“I-- I don’t think so.” You say, your cheeks feel hot under Zoro’s stare, you feel slightly nervous suddenly, but not a bad nervous, you're not really sure how to explain it. It’s completely new to you.

“Well you are. And you're strong, men love strong women.” Zoro goes on, he’s leaning back slightly, his arm still around you as he gazes up at the stars. You bite your lip, your mouth feels dry. Were you getting sick or something? 

“Do you?”

“Hell yeah I do, I’m not an idiot.” He says, amused. You nod your head. 

“Hm.” You say and he looks at you with that amused expression. “But what does him liking me have to do with you? He looked angry with you all night?” You ask, piecing things together in your mind.

“He’s jealous, killer.” He says. 

“Jealous, huh…” You trail off. “Because you're a good partner?” You ask and he scoffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“Sure, let's go with that.” He intones. You lay your head back down on his shoulder, settling against him. You always found your way to Zoro, you two had grown pretty close in the past few weeks. He was a calming presence, one you always seeked out. You liked sitting near him, talking with him and training with him. You liked when he talked and when he looked at you. It was strange, you’d never felt that way before meeting him. Never let your guard down but he just felt like a calming, safe presence to you. 

“What’s your type?” You ask and you feel Zoro tense up slightly, you turn slightly to look up at him. “Something wrong?”

“No, nothings wrong.” He says, recovering smoothly. “Are we talking about fighting partners?” He jokes, earning a laugh from you.

“Apparently not.” You answer. Waiting for a reply. Zoro’s arm slightly tightens around you, pulling you just a bit closer as he fixes the cover that had fallen off your shoulder. 

“I think I might keep that a mystery.” He answers as you huff out a laugh. 

“Keep your secrets then.” You say, letting your eyes drift closed. Sanji’s words float back into your mind, when you asked if liking someone was just something that you knew and he said more or less. It was something you just knew? That was harder to understand for you. “I think I’d like someone who I feel safe with.” You find yourself saying aloud as you try and imagine what that means, you were still kind of getting fighting partner mixed up with a romantic partner because both options you felt you needed someone you could trust.

“That’s a good thing to look out for, killer.” He says softly. You think hard. You felt safe with Zoro, you felt comfortable enough to rest against him. You couldn’t see yourself doing that with Sanji although you trusted him you didn’t want to be that close. Your mind was reeling now. So you liked being close to Zoro? Did that mean anything or nothing at all? You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Romance is confusing.” You find yourself saying. Zoro chuckles, nodding his head.

“Damn straight.” You lift up slightly as he turns to meet your eyes.

“How do you know you know, you know?” You ask as Zoro’s brows raise.

“I don’t know?” He asks as you purse your lips. 

“Sanji said your type was just something you knew,” You puzzled. 

“Killer, I think you may be overthinking it.” Zoro says. 

“What if you think you like someone but you're not completely sure?” You ask as Zoro hums slightly, thinking up an answer for you. 

“I guess- I guess you could kiss them.” He offers and you nod your head, leaning forwards to press a quick, searching kiss to Zoro’s lips. For someone so rough around the edges his lips are surprisingly soft against yours, cold from the night time wind. When you pull back Zoro’s eyes are closed, his cheeks as red as cherries. He slowly opens his eyes, he’s stunned to say the least. 

“I’ve never kissed someone before.” You say, eyes glancing back down at his lips. You kissed him too quickly to tell if anything came from it. “I’m gonna try again.” You say and he stammers but doesn’t object as you scoot closer and lean to press your lips back against his. You leave them there for a moment. You’d seen people kiss before but trying it now you were completely unsure of the correct way to do it. You feel something bloom but you're pulling away before you can put meaning to it. “I suck at this. You do it.” You say as Zoro finally finds his words. 

“You kissed me.” He says shocked and you nod your head. 

“It was bad, I don’t know what I’m doing. This is like training with a sword all over again.” You grumble, pouting and crossing your arms.

“You just need a good instructor.” Zoro’s hand slides up from your shoulder to your cheek, moving your face to face him. You have no time to access the way your stomach bottoms out at that before he’s bringing you flush against his lips this time in a delicate embrace. His fingers tangled in your hair, a shock zaps through you at the contact. Zoro knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled in more ways than fighting it seemed. You burned all over, your breath catching in your throat. Sanji was right, you knew right then. Right as he pulled you impossibly closer and kissed you with fervor and confidence. When he pulled back your lips chased after him slightly as you stopped yourself. You swallowed dryly. 

“Was that good for you?” He asks, his voice all breathy and hoarse. 

“Uh huh.” You exhale. It's quiet for a beat. “I think,” you start, clearing your throat. “I think maybe you should try again.” You whisper and you don’t have to say anything else because Zoro understands. That and he’s kissing you before you can utter another word.                         

[ghostboneswrites2]

Seeing as how you didn't want to put the pregnancy test surprise in my last request. Maybe you could in this request. Can you do it as a birthday surprise for Daryl? The reader has been keeping track of days, and noticed that Daryl's birthday was coming up. She found out that she was pregnant a month before his birthday. She made a trip to Hilltop to get an ultrasound done. When she presents the ultrasound and pregnancy test to him, he freaks out at first, worries on if he would be a good father or end up like his dad, worrying about if the reader would end up dead after giving birth like what happened with Lori. But, the reader confronts him and encourages him that he would never be like his father and that nothing will happen to them. Can end with them having a baby or not.

Warnings: none? Pregnancy / fear of not surviving birth. Allusions to Daryl’s past abuse.

        With a soft smile, you hummed to yourself as you folded the print of your ultrasound and slipped it in the delicate little gift box, underneath the hand carved arrowhead you had worked tirelessly on for weeks. It was carved from obsidian, a process which left your fingers covered in abrasions from the splintered black glass. The final touch was a piece of plastic with two pink lines on it.

        You carefully slid the lid onto the box and tied some twine around the whole thing to keep it secure. You tucked it into the side table drawer and smithed your shirt down. 

        Daryl would be back any minute now. It was his birthday, and aside from the small gift you made for him, you had known exactly what you were going to give him for the past month now. You tracked your cycles pretty well without access to birth control. The condoms had mostly expired by that time anyways, so it was really all up to date and how fast a man could pull out. 

        You were just grateful that out of anyone you chose to take that risk with, it was a man who would burn down entire cities to keep you safe — a man that would tear down the grandest walls to make you happy. 

        At first you were afraid, at first you couldn’t calm the racing thoughts and worst case scenarios that clouded your mind. Once the initial anxiety at simmered down some, though, you felt excited. When Daryl’s birthday grew near, you knew it would be the perfect surprise for the perfect man.

        When the doorknob clicked, you took a breath and tried to present yourself as casual. “Hey, love.” You grinned as the archer stepped inside. 

        “Hey.” He greeted, kicking his boots off and dropping his crossbow on top of them. 

        “Hungry?” You asked. “Carol brought us some pasta.”

        “Nah. Not yet.” He shrugged as he slunk down into the couch. He thee his head back and shut his eyes. He was exhausted and you could tell. You sat beside him and brushed some stringy hair away from his face. 

        “Happy birthday.” You told him sweetly. He peeked at you through one open eyelid. 

        “Hmm.” He hummed. “How’d ya know that?” 

         “Well it’s the same as last year, and the year before, and the year before..”

         “Uh-huh.” He shut is eye again. 

        “I got you something.” You singsonged. 

        “New boots?” He guessed. 

        “Nope.” You shook your head, popping the ‘P’.  

        “Socks?”

        “Um… No, but, you do need some new ones, by the way. I can only see so many holes before they’re no good.” 

        “Alright… Last guess. RPG?”

        “No!” You slapped his arm. “You really gotta let the RPG thing go, man.” You chucked. He smirked a little, eyes still shut. 

        “Okay. Three wrong guesses. I guess I’ll just show you.” You sighed, pushing yourself up off the couch and approaching the side drawer. You couldn’t tell if it was excitement or anxiety or general anticipation that was festering in your stomach and chest. Whatever it was, you gulped it down regardless and pulled the little white box from the drawer.

        You plopped back down beside him and held the box out. He peeled his eyes open and sighed, looking down and taking the box. He glanced at you once, hiding the little smile that creeped at the corners of his lips, and pulled the twine to unravel the knot. 

        Somehow you expected him to go for the arrowhead first, picturing him choosing the least exciting part first. However, he immediately noticed the pregnancy test and took it into his fingers, setting the box down. He stared at the pair of pink lines for what felt like ages, before he looked up at you. 

        “You?” He asked. You raised an eyebrow. 

        “Well, I wouldn’t be gifting you anyone else’s pee-stick.” You joked. He reached down and pulled the ultrasound print from the box. 

        “Where is it?” He asked. 

        “Can’t really see it, but… it has a heartbeat.” You said gently. He grabbed the arrowhead next, admiring it for a moment before tucking it into  the inside pocket of his vest. 

        His eyes welled up. 

        “‘M a dad?” He whispered. 

        “Yeah.” You smiled. 

        He stood up quickly, test and photos in hand, an excited grin shamelessly shining from cheek to cheek. 

        “W— well that’s— it’s great!” He choked. You stood to embrace him but as soon as your feet flattened on the ground, his face fell. He began pacing. You watched him with worry. 

         “Daryl…?”  

        “I need some air.” He grunted. He stormed outside and plopped on the front steps, lighting a cigarette. He took a long drag as he stared down at the glossy piece of paper in his hands. There it was; a little life forming inside you, and he was responsible for it. He had to teach this person right from wrong, had to teach them survival and how to treat others. He was meant to lead by example, yet he had no idea how. He wondered if his father felt the same way once upon a time. He wondered if he was on his way to becoming the same man, the same dad. 

        He took another deep drag before you stepped outside and stood behind him. Oh god, he thought. What about you? What was to become of you? How hard would this be for you? Would you suffer the same fate as many women over the course of history? Would he lose you the way Rick lost Lori? 

        “Daryl.” You whispered. 

        “This ain’t right.” He mumbled. 

        “Don’t say that.”

        “It ain’t!” He snapped. “I ain’t cut out to be a father! You could die! This ain’t a game!”

        “I’m not gonna die.” You insisted, sitting and hugging him from behind. You rested your head against his back, piecing together the words you meant to say. “And nobody’s a better fit to father a child than you.” 

        “Nobody?” He scoffed. “Right, ‘cause I had a real good example.”

        “You had a great example of what not to do, so the only thing left to learn is what to do. Which, we can both learn, in time. With experience. Like all parents.” 

        “If you even make it that far.” He gulped, blinking back tears.

        “I will. And we’ll both come out on top. We always do.”  

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[thebigbadbatswife]

Day 2/4 - Titfucking & Prostitution

Pairing - Daemon Targaryen x F!Reader

Warnings -18+ content, if you're under 18 leave immediately! Titfucking, prostitution, light dom/sub

Summary - After a successful tourney, Daemon comes to the establishment you work at to see you.

You were on the bed, resting on your knees with your tits on display when Daemon walked into the room. You knew that he liked your tits. He had told you many times before. You also knew that he only ever booked this room, your room, after a good jousting tourney. Of course, every tournament was a good one for him, considering that he always came out on top.

He smiled when he saw you. And he had that look in his eyes he had each time he saw you. Wild and lust filled. You felt like a goat that had been spotted by a dragon. His pants were tight fitting and you could see the outline of his cock. No doubt already hard and wanting.

He strode forward, stopping when he reached the bed. In his hand he grabbed hold of your chin and jawline and kissed you. It was rough and messy. The only thing driving it was his lust and the adrenaline left over.

“Don’t have long tonight,” he told you.

You nodded. “Where do you want me, my Prince?” 

“Grab the oil and move to the edge of the bed,” he ordered.

You nodded again. “Of course.” You did as he asked. Grabbing the oil bottle that you kept on a nearby table and returned to the edge of the bed, resting on your knees again. As you did that, Daemon had stripped himself of all of his clothing. Naturally you ran your eyes over his body. His body was well toned and scarred. His cock standing proud and gently tapping his abs as he moved back toward the bed.

“Pour it on your tits.” Once again, you did as he asked. You uncorked the bottle and poured. It sent goosebumps raising across your skin and your nipples hardened. He took the bottle from you and started to pour some of the oil onto his penis. He then set it aside and started to stroke his cock, making sure it was fully coated.

You knew what he wanted from you. Using your arms you pushed your breasts together for him. Daemon’s cock easily slid between them. He groaned deeply, almost growling, as he started to fuck them. He didn’t say anything else. His only focus was on his pleasure. Which was not unexpected. It was simply how he was, like all clients, when he came to this establishment. You were for a night or a few hours. Make them forget about whatever life they had outside of these walls.

As he fucked your tits, you bent your head down, your tongue darting out to lick the head of his cock each time that he thrusted. You then opened your mouth, sucking on the head instead of licking each time that he entered. He moaned lowly and his hips started to move faster. There was a stutter in his rhythm and you pulled away.

“Come on, Prince Daemon,” you purred, your eyes meeting his lilac. “Come for me.”

His head fell backwards as he growled, shooting rope after rope of his seed across the tops of your tits and some of it landing on your chin. Breathing heavily, he swiped what had landed on your chin with his thumb and pushed it into your mouth. You sucked his thumb cleaning, humming softly.

Releasing his thumb with a pop, Daemon walked away from you. Leaving you to clean yourself up while he got dressed. You had just finished drying yourself off and slipping into a robe when a large coin pouch was chucked onto the bed.

“Take the rest of the night off and enjoy the festivities. Your Prince orders you to,” he told you before leaving your room.

“Of course, my Prince.”

[desertwritings]

A BREAK FROM STUDYING

A Jimmy Mcgill/Saul Goodman x Cis Female reader Y/N fanfic? 

TBH this is my first time posting my work on Tumblr so I’m still figuring out the formatting. This story is smut based... like heavily smutty and gross so you have been warned. If you like it enough for me to make it a series let me know!

NOW TAKING REQUESTS!

CONTAINS: age gap, daddy k!nk, cream pie, mild squirting, public(ish) sex. 

CONTEXT: You have been working with Jimmy in the mail room for years now and have always had a puppy love schoolgirl sort of crush on him since you first met, but always thought it wasn’t reciprocated. Now, one night, he shows just how badly he’s wanted you this whole time while you try to study for the bar exam. 

I only had another week left until the bar exam and I spent most of my time either working in the mailroom of HHM or studying in doc review. Howard had been supportive enough, allowing me extra time to focus on my studies, all while also paying for my school costs — even if it was just through the local community college. Go Suncats! Honestly, this had been the most support I had ever received. Maybe if I grew up having more support, I would be going to Harvard instead. 

“Heya y/n.” I heard the familiar raspy and pitchy tone of Jimmy as he leaned in the doorway of doc review, where I hunched over a textbook, an empty coffee cup, and a tear-stained notebook. 

“It’s like — almost midnight. What are you still doing here?” I asked, not taking my eyes off my pen and paper. 

I heard his footsteps get closer and the chair beside me pull out and creek as he sat beside me. “I have my reasons.” He answers in a half-assed manner. 

I turned to face him, the dim lamp highlighting his playful smile and I felt my core grow weak and mushy for him. 

The first time I had met Jimmy Mcgill I was working in the mail room, trying to get a job as an assistant or a paralegal for one of the partners. Freshly twenty-three with a bright and optimistic view of the world — full of drive and childish ambition. I was so focused on work and starting classes that I hadn’t taken any time to unwind — let alone care about boys or dating or anything like that. But the first time I met the mysterious brother to Chuck Mcgill, I’ll admit it was like I became a sappy, sick puppy dog. Sure, he was older — a little bit of a loser. But I was weak for the funny pathetic underdogs. Not to mention he was flirty and funny and fed into my childish delusions of how I could “fix him.” I flirted back, wore short skirts, wore the hoop earrings he complimented once, and wore my hair loose and fun. I tried. But for some reason, it never went past harmless office flirtation. I assumed maybe it was the age difference. Maybe he was uncomfortable with being with someone as young as me. Maybe he was just trying to do the right thing but not giving in to temptation with me. 

Now I was almost twenty-seven, and though the schoolgirl crush had dulled a little, there were times when I would catch myself looking at him like he could move heaven and earth. Like in this moment as he sat next to me in the dimly lit document room. So I cleared my throat and turned back to the papers in front of me. 

“Admit you just missed me.” I teased as the smallest of smiles tugged on the corners of my lips. 

“Objection. That’s hearsay.” He teased back, leaning closer as he slid my favorite energy drink across the table with a single finger — the condensation leaving a small streak of liquid on the wood top. “Some of us went out for drinks, and I noticed you weren’t there. Ernesto said you were here studying.” 

“Yeah, yeah he came and asked if I wanted to go but —” I shrugged, motioned to all the school work displayed in front of me. 

“You work too hard. You should take a break and come back out with us.” 

He carefully takes the pen from my fingers, puts the cap back on and sets it aside. It was a subtle and simple thing he did but I felt my skin grow warm. 

“I wish I could, but — I just have a lot to study still, and the exam is —”

“ — a week away.” He interrupts me. “Which means you have time to take one tiny break out of your evening to have a little fun and destress.” 

“I don’t know, Jimmy.”

“Oh, come on, y/n. It’ll be good for you!” He inches so close I can almost taste his cologne and the head and shoulders 2-in1 shampoo. “Come on — for me?”

And with that, I knew. I knew he knew that I had a stupid schoolgirl crush on him and he was using it against me, and fuck — it was working. I tried to fight a smile, shaking my head as my cheeks flushed pink. 

“Fine — whatever,” I said, slamming my book shut. “but only because you seem so desperate.”

He stands up with the dumbest grin. “See? That’s my girl.” 

I stand up, fixing my skirt that had ridden up, my thigh exposed past my thigh-highs, maybe even a bit of my black panties. I wasn’t thinking much of it until I caught a glimpse of Jimmy eyeing me like a lion eyeing a gazelle. It was unexpected, unfamiliar. He had looked at me before in a more appreciative way. This time it seemed more lustful, more desperate even, and it caused my chest and legs to grow hot. I could feel wetness going in between my legs, and for a moment, I got embarrassed.

“I just, uh — I just have to put this stuff in my car, and then we can —” As I was talking, he moved closer, not helping my flustered state. I stopped in my tracks, looking up at him.

I was about to say something. I was about to walk past him and run out of the room but his hands slid around my waist and I nearly forgot how to breathe. His bottom lip was pressed by his teeth, his brows furrowing in what looked like deep thought. Though it wouldn’t take a genius to know what he was thinking about. 

“Jimmy —” I said, his name barely above a whisper. 

“Look — am I totally crazy for thinking that you — that you want me?”   He asked, head tilting just slightly as his eyes didn’t leave my own.    “If I’m making shit up in my head tell me now and I’ll walk away and we’ll pretend this never happened. But if I’m right —”

I was so thrown off guard. This whole time I thought he didn’t want me. This whole time I thought I was too young for him or that maybe I wasn’t his type. But here we stood with his grip around my waist firm and hungry and waiting for direction. 

“I —”   I looked down and saw the bulge in his pants. He wanted me so bad in this moment he couldn’t even hide it. Without much thought, I got on my toes and pulled his neck down into my kiss. He let out a pleasantly surprised whimper, his grip moving down lower to cup my ass as he pulled me into his bulge. I could feel it stabbing me and twitching. I let out a soft and involuntary moan. 

“I wanna feel how wet you are.” He groaned into my ear, sliding his right hand under my skirt and rubbing his fingers on the outside of my soaked panties. He smiled, placing a rather fervent kiss on my neck and biting my skin gently. “Fuck — you’re so wet. You’re dripping.”

“Mhmm — you make me that way.” I practically moaned the words as he moved my panties off to the side and slid one of his fingers inside me, the wet sounds loud and affirming just how badly my body wanted him. 

“Come here.” He pulled his finger out of me, making me whine in protest as his hands wrapped around my waist to hoist me on the edge of the table. 

At this point, I was panting, aching, my pussy pulsing for him to touch me. He shoved his index and middle fingers in his mouth and lubricated them with his own spit before shoving them into my soaking pussy without so much as a warning. I gasped, smiling, laying back on the table as he positioned my legs over his shoulders. 

At first, he started off with a gentle, slow rhythm. In and out. With every push of his fingers, I could feel him pressing against my walls, making my back arch. “Faster.” I pleaded. And with that he was picking up the pace, ramming his fingers into me with force and speed. I couldn’t even handle it, my legs tried to shut as I began to feel overstimulated, but he pried them open and continued to finger-fuck me while I wiggled and writhed on the table beneath him. 

I let out a loud moan that was followed by his hand cupping around my mouth to stifle my pathetic little noises. I had forgotten where we were and that anyone could just walk in and see us this way. 

“You like that? Do my fingers feel good?” He was getting off on making me feel good, it was easy to tell. He was boosting his ego by making himself feel good by making me cum all over his fingers. 

“Mhhhmm” I mumbled under his hand as my eyes opened and looked up at him.

“God — you’re so beautiful.” He said, staring down at me. “Be a good girl and don’t get us in trouble, okay?” He laughed a breathless laugh as he lifted his hand from my mouth. “You’re getting wetter.” He said with a pleased smirk. 

“I’m so close, Jimmy, please —” and with my pitiful begging, he finger-fucked me harder, this time with three fingers while his other hand played with my clit. “I — I’ll make a mess.” I confessed, more like a warning. 

“Good.” He said, not slowing his pace or showing me mercy as my body tensed and my back arched.

“Fuck — fuck I’m coming —”  I squealed, wiggling around as I started to squirt just a little in between every push of his fingers — my wetness drenched his entire hand and forearm. He just kept going, too, making me moan and writhe around, all pathetic and out of control of my own body. It felt good, though, to not be in control for once. My mind wasn’t thinking about the bar exam, bills, or moving up in HHM. Truth be told, it was just thinking about Jimmy and the way he was making me feel. 

“Ah fuck — you’re so sexy.” He said, taking his drenched hand and slowly pulling it away from me, pressing it to his mouth and licking the tips of his fingers. “I knew you’d taste so good.” I grinned a little, out of breath and panting on the table. 

My eyes wandered to his disheveled hair and his cocky smile, then to his soaked hand that reached into his pants and pulled his erect cock out. He didn’t even need to hold it, it just stood there on its own — ready. 

I slowly sat up on my elbows, practically drooling over his cock, which was bigger than I had imagined. “I want you to fuck me with that.” I confessed, looking back up at his glazed-over eyes. 

He didn’t even say anything. He just grabbed me by the waist like he did before and flipped me over on the table with my ass and pussy exposed. I stuck my ass out just a little more, begging for his cock. But before he stuck it in me he kissed me down from the back of neck, down my spine, and then left a little bit on my ass cheek. Then without much warning he was shoving his hard cock into my still-soaking wet pussy. I gasped and groaned, tilting my head back at the feeling. 

“Ah — fuck.” he nearly whimpered, already breathing heavily as he started off with a slow and steady pace. He leaned over me and pressed his lips to the top back of my head while he said, “I want you to call me daddy.”  

I let out a soft whimper in understanding. “Please fuck me harder, daddy.” 

“Good girl,” he said, fucking me harder and shoving his cock deep into me, ramming into my walls and making me whimper with every thrust. His left hand came up to the back of my head and tangled in my hair as his right hand gripped my waist firm in place as he continued to fuck me.  

“Just like that, daddy, don’t stop.” I moaned, banging my hands on the table with nothing to hold onto. 

He gripped my hair harder, lifting my head up as he thrust into me even more fervently — nothing but the sound of our whimpers and moans and skin slapping together. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” He moaned, reaching his hand from my waist to my clit and rubbing it to the rhythm of his thrusting. It only made me moan and shake more. 

“I want you to cum inside me, daddy.” I confess, biting my lower lip. 

“Yeah? You want daddies cum to fill you up?”

“Please daddy — please cum for me.” I begged, barely able to get the words out. 

He picked up the pace to a new speed I didn't even know anyone was capable of reaching, moaning and groaning and sweating all over my bare ass until he made a pathetic whimper sound then the next thing I knew he was emptying his load into my raw pussy — filling me up with his warmth and sliding his cock almost out of me but not quite. I could feel his cock twitching as he continued to empty himself inside me. The feeling of his cum made me even more hot and flushed.

“Holy shit.” he huffed, slowly removing his now flaccid cock from me. I turned over my shoulder to look at him looking at my cum-filled pussy with an arrogant smirk across his face. He was fucking proud of himself. 

I was about to ask for a taste of his cum before we heard footsteps near the mail room. We frantically got ourselves dressed and I rushed to fix the desk and open my book back to make it look like I was still studying. Jimmy fell hard into his seat, hair all sweaty and slightly curled as he zipped up his pants. 

Two cleaning ladies came in with their cleaning cart, staring at us with confusion. “Hola, ladies.” Jimmy said, with a simple wave of his hand. “You can, uh, skip this room tonight.” 

They looked at each other, nodded, then walked out.

Jimmy turned to me with an amused expression, eyes moving down to the now cum-soaked chair I was sitting in and laughed a little. “Guess we should have let them clean.”

[just-some-random-blogger]

Rebel

Prince!Kylo Ren x Cage Fighter!Reader

Summary: Prince Kylo was a rebel at heart. His grandfather, Emperor Anakin, was on his final limb trying to groom the boy into becoming a good Skywalker, but it seems he was too preoccupied with things outside his duty to care.

Word Count: 9k+

Warnings: fem!reader, alternate universe, slight modern/contemporary world au?, royal family-ish au, enemies with benefits?, smut (sadism, dom/sub dynamic, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, light bondage), kylo is going through a phase ig, yucky smoker!kylo (don't smoke pls), slow burn, typos, etc.

A/N: Felt like cross posting this on AO3 also minors dni you guys arent ready for this because I'm not ready for this HAHAAHHA my brain farts are real. also if there's anything wrong with my star wars lore just roll with it ok it's the beauty of my au world HAHHAH <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx

"Put that out before father sees you."

Kylo looks over his shoulder, pulling away the cigarette from his lips as he blows smoke from his lungs. He looks at his mother and sighs, "my father or your father?"

Leia eyes her son, "Ben-"

"Kylo," he corrects, taking another puff of his smoke.

The crown princess narrows her eyes and with one flick of her finger, the barely burning cigarette shoots out of his fingers, across the hall.

"Bro- what the fu-"

"See," she places her hands on her hips, "you would have been able to stop me if you trained with Luke more often," Kylo's mother offers as she leans into him and sniffs his rank smoker odor, brushing him off as she did.

Leia's son, who towers over her, cringes as he is pat down harshly.

Leia notes, "you reek."

"Stop it," he quips as his shoulder is swatted with way more force than necessary. Kylo curls his arms over himself in protection. She does not relent, and so he calls, "mom!"

Leia sighs and places her hands on her hips, "no, you're right," she looks up at him, "I should just let the emperor catch you," she raises a finger, "and let's be honest. Even if you trained more with Luke," she turns about, " you still wouldn't be able to best me."

The woman marches off, mentally noting to rant to her son's father about him.

Kylo grunts as he watches his mother walk away. By the time she reaches then end of the hall, Kylo rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He pulls out his sleek, silver box of cigarettes and grabs a stick. He turns around as he begins to light the thing lazily pressed between his lips.

He doesn't get to though. His fire is burnt out by the ominous snippy atmosphere and his lighter slips through his fingers.

Immediately, the cigarette falls after, down to his boots and he grows frigid at the sight of the slouching man before him, hand propped on a cane, face concealed in a dark mask.

"Emperor. I-"

"Continue to disappoint?" he speaks through the constraint of his mask, not even raising a finger to get both the fallen objects on the floor as well as the one in Kylo's hands.

The emperor chucks out those hazards through the window, using so much Force that it probably propelled out of orbit. Kylo internally begins to sputter out curses.

"Why are you roaming here in the gardens, killing your grandmother's flowers, boy?" the old man demands, breathing heavily.

Kylo gulps and clenches his hands into a fist.

"Are you not meant to be training with your uncle?" Anakin quips, taking a deep breath as he slowly walks past his grandson.

Kylo tenses and steps aside to allow the emperor passage. He knows better than to do so, and yet he still offers, "do you want some hel-"

"Do you have a death wish?" Anakin wheezes as he heads to the arch in the hall, not even sparing his hulk of a progeny a look. He would have beaten his ass in his prime, he thinks, as he makes his way into the palace garden.

Immediately, Anakin feels a Force around him. He basks in it and Kylo can feel it too, though he thinks the Force is coming from his mother's father.

Anakain swears he can smell the scent of his beloved Padme in this moment. He mentally debates taking his mask off, but decides against it, knowing his child's child will throw a hissy fit, then his actual children will throw another hissy fit.

Kylo does nothing but watch the old man walk off. He thinks of the few memories he has with his grandmother then goes terse all over again when he hears a shout, "GO TRAIN, BOY!"

Kylo releases a breath, "yes sir."

Anakin, after a long while, finally reaches a bench and sits down. He looks at the flowers in the shrubs and bushes around him. He breathes in deeply, as deeply as his mask will allow him then closes his eyes. He pretends he was not himself, rather that he was his younger self. He thinks about his wife and how he would have plucked out a flower for her in this moment.

"Oh, Padme," instead he sighs, "you're grandson is a rebel, my love. I don't know what to do with him," he opens his eyes, "but you would have."

Kylo, at this point, had successfully fled the wrath of his forebears, and was now at the garage, readying his air speeder. He ruffles his black, baggy jeans with infinite pockets and feels his key eventually. He jumps in his vehicle and finds another box of cigarettes in his compartment.

"Thank you, Kylo," he mutters to himself as he gets another stick of nicotine.

He lights his cigarette as he waits for the garage door to open.

But then came a high-pitched beeping noise, and he immediately pulls away the lit stick in his mouth.

R2-D2 rambles on and on in his dings and buzzes in a scolding manner.

Kylo's ears ring. Fucking droid. He rubs his ear then turns to his side. He watches as the robot nears rolls back and forth as it chastises him.

"Can it, tin can."

R2-D2's light becomes red.

Kylo clutches his steering wheel, "if you rat me out to grandpa, I'll turn you into a museum display."

R2-D2 flares even more at the threat.

"Well, I don't give a shit if uncle Luke is waiting for me," he snips back, staring his engine, then driving off. He raises a hand, "later, loser."

R2-D2 loses its marbles.

Kylo drives deep into the capital city, the part that was more commercial and had less military presence. But really, the old man's reach was felt throughout the galaxy. It'd be a matter of time before his fun is over. That's why he intends on having as much fun as he possibly can.

He aimlessly roams for a moment, driving through streets he frequents, and some he doesn't recall he's ever been. He leans on his side and feels the wind blow back his jaw length hair. Then he finds himself parking in a coincidentally free spot on a busy street.

It's destiny, he thinks.

So, he pulls up in the edge of the street and hops out of his air speeder, aimlessly walking around. He pulls out his comms device and sends a message.

From Kylo: where u?

He shoves his comms back in his pocket, keeping his hands stuffed there, knowing he wouldn't get a response from his friend any time soon. He walks to the edge of the street, stops right at a pedestrian lane, then crosses once the light turns green.

As he struts past a conveniece store, he turns to his barely visible reflection and runs his hands through his hair. The street grows increasingly busy as he continues. It's packed with people on the daily their commute, off to work, to school, or to wherever they ought to be. With every being that passes him, human, alien, droid, or otherwise, he slowly feels the paranoia seep in him.

He rubs his nose, 100% sure that that old lady was whispering about him.

He was being watched, he was being looked at, he was being talked about. A work hazard, something you deal with as royalty. He likes to pretend he's better than that, public opinion doesn't matter to him, but he isn't a very good pretender.

He clears his throat, pulls out the shades he always kept handy on him, and puts them on. Suddenly, he's not as paranoid.

In truth, if you knew the faces of the Skywalker clan, not even these large glasses would stop you from recognizing him. But still, he felt better with them on. The only reason he probably did was because the little boy in him still believed the words of his father.

Ben had been 4 or 5 at the time, and had been struggling with the attention from the general public and the press. Han Solo had gave him shades, the very same one he had now, and told him when he had them on, he'd be invisible. It helped that his dad, mom, and uncle were in on it and pretended he was when he'd wear them. The servants were quick enough to follow suit. His grandfather though, ever the cynic, never played the game with him, and always told him to put the ridiculous thing off.

He figured then of course the emperor could see him. He had superior connections with the Force.

Kylo crosses the street.

A group of school girls catch sight of him and stare as he walks by. Once he's gone, they squeal and gush over how handsome he was.

Kylo feels his comms vibrate.

To Kylo: At work. Can't come.

Kylo snorts, then turns to his side when he smells an alluring savory scent. He sees the burrito stand and walks over as he replies.

From Kylo: im getting burritos

Kylo walks to the order window and decides he'll get what he always gets. The employee begrudgingly walks over to the window and leans on the table by the window, "Good morning," she says flatly, "what can I get you?"

Kylo examines at the bandage she has on her brow and the swollenness of her cheek. He knows it'll turn blue soon, but he doesn't say that, "two classic burritos, one of them with extra radish."

She nods and then punches up Kylo's order on the register, "12 credits."

Kylo pulls his head back, "12? It's 4.50 each."

"Not anymore for a long time," she mutters in response, shifting in her spot.

Kylo lets out a breath, thinking it's a ridiculous price, but pays 12 credits nonetheless.

He receives another message.

To Kylo: No.

Kylo snorts yet again at his text mate. He moves to the side and waits for his order. In the meantime, he looks around the block, thinking of what else he can do to amuse himself.

From the corner of his eye, he spots the sign The Death Star, and chuckles under his breath. He uses his Force to try and see what exactly this death star was, and then quickly realizes it was a cage fighting arena.

Kylo smirks.

From Kylo: come to 12th street. we're watching a cage fight in the death star :D

Kylo turns around when he hears his order get called out. He says quick thank you to the man who gives him his burrito. He looks at him and his pudgy form, then examines his knuckes before he pulls away. He spots, seeing no bruise on them. He definitely wasn't the one who punched the lady that worked here.

Kylo then crosses and heads to The Death Star. He looks at his comms one last time before heading for the entrance.

To Kylo: ????

"Moron," he chuckles to himself.

He reaches The Death Star, finding it had a small entrance with guard big enough to block it whole.

"50 credits," the bouncer says to him.

Kylo looks at the man. He was twice as big as the one who worked at the burrito shop. Still, Kylo thinks he could take him.

"Why so expensive?" he asks.

The bouncer rolls his shoulders back, "you got a problem, peasant? Then leave."

He does not like that. The bouncer was on the steps leading up to the door, which was why he was about as tall as Kylo. He wonders if he should force choke him and walk in, but then he feels a buzz from the comms in his pocket and is snapped out of it. He pays the over-expensive door fee then walks in, eating his burrito.

"Just keep walking straight then go down the stairs," the bouncer says, "you can't miss it."

He doesn't miss it. He immediatly spots the stairs, finding it went both up and down. Kylo looks up in curiosity. He figures if he instead went upstairs, there would most definitely be someone there waiting him to throw him down. He simply just descends with his burrito.

Once he reaches the only place the stairs lead to, he surveys the setting, wondering why there were chandeliers and drapes in this foyer when he knows once he gets to the area where the crowds were screaming, there would be a semi-large cage and audience members hollering for blood. Weird.

But then again, his grandpa lived in a palace and he was out for his blood.

He takes it back. It's fitting.

He continues to walk, chewing on his food, then get into the arena, at the very edge of it. It seems the round just finished, considering the reaction of the crowd.

Kylo promptly finds an empty spot, then sits down as he watches the cage get swept. It looks like a droid was shattered after the match.

He chuckles when he imagines it being R2-D2.

It takes a few minutes for the next round to commence, and by the time it does, Kylo's burrito was finished.

At this moment, he pulls out his comms and sees he's received multiple messages. He grins when he sees the one that confirmed that he was, in fact, going to be seeing his friend here at the death star soon.

There is a loud announcement suddenly, and the crowd goes wild. Soon enough two competitors are announced, and Kylo perks up and tilts his head when he sees the face of one of them, you, the burrito lady.

Kylo, is so stunned that has to push his shades down to see if he was seeing clearly. Yep. Still 20/20.

There you were, standing no longer in your burrito-stand uniform, but in fitted shorts and a fitted tank top. You had wraps in your hands and feet, and the marks on your face made total sense now.

Kylo leans back on his seat and pushes his shades up.

You got them from your cage fights.

He finds himself smiling.

Interesting.

"- with 27 wins and 2 losses-"

Hmm, an impressive record.

Kylo cannot help but to cheer with the crowd as it screams for you after you are introduced. An interesting name you had. He'll have to remember that.

Both you and your opponent's hands are raised just before the start of the match.

The prince nods his head and thinks he will enjoy seeing you win or lose today.

Halfway through the match, as Kylo is screaming for you as you bash your knee into your opponent, who was, mind you, twice your size, he is grabbed my the arm and ripped out of his focus.

Kylo turns annoyed then breaks into a smile, speaking loudly over the audience' noise. "Hux! You're just in time." Kylo hands the man the burrito with extra radish, then turns back to the cage, "burrito girl is really good!"

Hux takes the burrito and looks at Kylo, then the cage. The dark haired man clenches his hand into a fist and cheers as the round is called to an end.

The red haired man pulls his head back after beholding the collective protests.

"AW WHAT! SHE TOTALLY WON THAT ROUND!" Kylo snarls against the announcement that your slimy alienoid opponent was the victor for round 3.

Kylo sits back down and cross his arms. Hux sits down next to him and gives him a look, "you're insane, you know that right? D'you know what would happen to us if someone-"

"And you're boring," Kylo retorts, running his hand through his dark locks.

Hux holds back his eyeroll, and shakes his head instead. His ginger, gelled back hair reflects the glaring spotlights in the room. Hux unwraps his burrito and takes a bite, crossing his legs as he did so.

Kylo turns to him, mentally noting he appreciated he came to him right after work, the give away being he was still in uniform. Hux's sharp shoulder pads starkly contrasted the softness of his frumpy sweater, though they were both black.

"Extra radish," he points.

Hux nods and rolls his eyes, "yes," he chews, "thank you, Ben."

Kylo glares at him.

Hux chews some more, then corrects himself, "Kylo."

Kylo turns away, looking back at the cage.

The next round promptly begins and Kylo is visibly excited. He talks over the loud cheers of the crowd, "we're going to meet her after the round."

Hux knits his brows as Kylo stands to his feet and claps for the competitors.

"Meet? Who?"

"Her!" Kylo points to the cage.

Hux looks.

"I paid 500 credits to have her company to ourselves later," Kylo says with a fond smile.

Hux nearly chokes on his burrito, "you what?!"

He is dutifully ignored for the rest of the match.

When the match does end, Hux thinks of Kylo's decisions even more poorly. The prince is incredibly sour, as the match did not end in favor of this burrito girl as he had gotten fond of for no other reason than that he is compulsive.

Hux does not know if he should be mulling over the fact that the girl, who lost the match on a technicality, worked part-time at the burrito shop that made the delicious snack he just ate, or the fact that Kylo, in all his temper and moodiness, was about to meet her when he was extremely disappointed and very emotional over her loss.

Hux, though he knew about Kylo's explosive tendencies, doesn't dare offer to just leave though, considering he basically made himself homeless by paying so much to meet the cage fighter.

That would be funny though, no? A homeless prince.

When Kylo and Hux are let in the back room, the two turn to each other, seeing the poor conditions of the place.

"500 credits dude," you say, standing from the spot you were sat on.

Kylo takes in the cuts and bruises in your form, agreeing with himself that, considering the violence you exacted and received in the ring, you looked extremely well, and came out mostly unscathed.

"You should have won that round," Kylo says shaking his head. He watches as you smile softly at his words. He feels his chest flutter and decides he enjoys the subtleness of your expression. He would love to make you react the same way again, "that thing outnumbered you with his six arms."

You shrug, toned shoulders glistening with sweat and ointment. Now that he was up close, Kylo could see how fit you were. He licks his lips when he catches your barely visible navel.

"A biological advantage," you retort, "it's not like I can ask him to cut off his arms for me to make it fair."

"Still," Kylo raises a finger, "you should have won."

You shake your head at his words, offering another smile, but no further reply.

Hux surveys the dingy room, thinking if you worked at a burrito stand and a cage fighting job, you must be desperate for credits. He turns to you and straightens up, "you know, with your skills, you could do well as a trooper," the commander says, "you would be paid well, given lodging, health care-"

"So you are an imperialist," you place a hand on your hip and point to him.

Commander Hux tenses. Kylo chews his bottom lip as he holds back a laugh.

I mean, Hux was very visibly an imperialist.

"I thought you just liked imperial fashion on whole other level," you add.

Hux finds himself getting defensive, "is that a problem?"

You tilt your head, "liking imperial fashion or being an imperialist?"

Kylo pretends he's offended and knits his brows, speaking at the same time as his friend, "both."

You look between the two and shake your head, "no. It's just weird to see an actual, I don't know, officer from the regiment spectate a match."

Hux narrows his eyes, "why, is this place illegal?"

You snort, and Kylo beams at the idea.

"I wouldn't have joined this troupe if it was."

Kylo is mildly disappointed, but more so amused by the topic that was spiraling and how Hux was reacting to it. Kylo turns back to you when you point at him, "I remember where I know you from."

Hux feels slightly agitated over the idea the prince was going to be recognized.

Kylo smiles and adjusts his shades, "yes, you took my ord-"

"History class, 204, professor Djarin."

"..."

Hux pulls his head back and looks between Kylo and you.

Kylo is dumbfounded. So much so, he takes off his shades, "you went to Naboo Public State?"

You promptly laugh upon seeing his brown eyes, knowing well how much he rolled them at your shared history teacher, "yeah. Djarin called you Skyslugger cause you were always late."

Hux internally cringes, agitation level skyrocketing, because that does sound like something that would have happened to him in school. That meant, you knew exactly who they both were now, which meant, if you wanted, you could happily talk about how a commanding officer and the prince of the empire went to your cage fight match at a place called The Death Star, and paid 500 credits to speak with you after. Lord, he could already hear General Leia's disappointment in his head.

Kylo snorts, though he was more annoyed at the memory than amused, "damn Din Djarin."

"You never graduated, did you?" you ask.

Hux turns to Kylo, wordlessly telling him not to answer that.

Kylo does anyway, "I didn't, no. Parent's pestering me to re-enroll."

That's enough, Ben, Hux thinks loudly.

You tilt you head, "maybe you should."

Hux turns to you and presses his lips, "hear that, maybe you should!"

Kylo turns to him as Hux slaps his hand on Kylo's shoulder. He glares at Hux, "no."

A beat passes.

You look between the two, "so, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Hux instinctively turns to Kylo, prompting you to do the same.

"Well," Kylo starts, leaning onto one leg, crossing his arms.

Hux recognizes this behavior and then makes a face.

"I honestly wanted to just talk about how I think you deserved to win, and perhaps," he moves slightly closer to you, "to invite you to hang out with us."

Hux shakes his head and raises his hands, "count me out. I have places to be."

"Just you and me then," Kylo smiles softly.

Hux rolls his eyes, he was right. Another day, another plaything. He so very much wants to leave now.

But then, Hux catches the way your face twists. He finds his lips curling into amusement as you furrow your brows. You are clearly uninterested, and suddenly, he is glad that Kylo paid 500 credits just to be here. His rejection will be sweet and deserved.

"Your payment for a meet does not extend to outside endeavors."

Kylo nods, leaning towards you more, "oh, I know. Just wondered if you would be interested in getting a drink."

"Well, I'm not."

"Interested in getting a drink?"

"In you, Prince Ben."

Kylo's face twitches. Hux clears his throat to hold back his laugh.

Kylo doesn't have anything else to say and it is hillarious.

Another beat passes.

You shift in your spot as Hux turns around and laughs in his hand. Kylo rubs his nose and straightens up.

"Is that it?" you ask.

Kylo turns to you, ire beginning to burn, "what?"

"Is that all you wanted?" you clarify, waving a hand. "I mean, you paid 500 credits, I can show you around the place if you like."

Hux turns back around and smiles, "oh, please, do. That would be lovely."

Kylo clenches his jaw, "no. I saw everything I needed to see already."

Hux makes a soft oof sound and indulges himself with a chuckle.

"I'm a force user," Kylo says, "I used my Force Sight to see."

"Ah," you nod.

Hux turns to you and nods, "I stand corrected, I think we will both be leaving now."

You purse your lips and shrug, "suit yourself."

Kylo releases a huff. You knit your brows when he nods to you in regard, "burrito girl."

You blink at him, "500 credits dude."

Hux watches as you curtsy at Kylo. He shakes a hand and his head, mouthing, "he doesn't like that."

You straighten up and watch as the two then walk out of the room.

"Oh, if you ever want to apply as a troop, tell them you were recommended by commander Armitage Hux."

You raise your brows at that, "your name is Armitage?"

Hux makes a face at your expression, "what? Why?"

"Nothing it's just, you don't look like-"

"Hux, let's go."

You turn to Kylo, who just walked out of the room.

"Just call me Hux, everyone calls me that."

You purse your lips then nod.

"Goodbye then," Hux waves and follows after his friend.

As Kylo and Hux exit the room, then the arena, the latter notes, "well that was fun."

Kylo ignores him.

Hux chuckles, "oh, come on. She was a good fighter. You said it yourself."

Kylo grunts.

"I especially enjoyed it when she defeated you."

Kylo glares at Hux. Hux grins from ear to ear.

"Do you want me to demote you?" Kylo groans.

"You can't demote me, prince Ben," Hux says a-matter-of-factly as they climb up the stairs.

Kylo eyes Hux as he ascends before him then uses his Force to make him trip on the steps.

As Hux nearly faceplants, barely catching himself with his hands as he crashes down, Kylo steps over him and continues climbing up.

"BEN!"

Kylo hisses harshly, "don't call me that."

Kylo leaves Hux, deciding he deserved it for being annoying. He thinks he'll go get drinks by himself since no one cared to keep him company.

He nearly breaks his comms after all the ruckus it made while he was brooding in a booth at a lounge he frequented. He doesn't destroy it though. It wasn't his to break. It was a gift from his uncle. His mother refused to get him a new one after breaking countless ones before this one. Luke made him swear to keep it intact.

Kylo abandons his booth to get himself another drink after finishing his nth cocktail.

This time around, with his tiny martini glass in hand, complete with a paper umbrella, he decides he's going to dance, even if he was tipsy and, frankly, hated dancing, especially those folkdances his mother and grandmother taught him and made him do every moment they could. Fuck that shit.

Kylo puts the umbrella stick in his hair just by his ear and chugs his drink as he walks to the crowded dancefloor.

He raises both of his hands and sways his hips on beat as he sifts through the creatures dancing to insanely loud music.

He randomly taps someone's shoulder and hands them the glass, which they stupidly accept, allowing Kylo to break it down and boogie freely with no glass to think about. Only his dark glasses.

By break it down and boogie, of course, I meant Kylo was flailing his head and arms around, pivoting his shoulder and belly to the music. Was it good? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

He feels a bunch of people come onto him, grinding on him or dancing with him. He lets them. When they tell him they should take their dancing somewhere else, he refuses.

Eventually, he's turned down a bunch of people and is left alone.

With his forehead damp with sweat, he exits the dance floor when the music changes to something slow.

He decides to get himself another drink.

"Never knew you had that in you, Ben."

He cringes before he even sits down. He turns to the woman in a pink dress next to the stool at the bar he was about to sit on. He feels his brows pull up at the sight of her.

"Don't call me that, burrito girl," Kylo quips as he calls for the bartender.

You furrow brows further, leaning on the bar top, "call you what? Your name?"

Kylo is served another cocktail, the only one he ever orders, without needing to say it. He thanks the bartender as he downs his drink.

You raise your brows at him, watching some of the liquid spill from his corners of his mouth.

Kylo turns to you, wiping his lips, "don't call me Ben."

You blink, "so... you want to me to call you 500 credits dude?"

"Kylo," he retorts, as he racks his brain. He can't seem to remember what he's looking for though, so he asks, "what was your name again?"

You give him a once over before responding.

When he hears your name, Kylo shakes his head, thinking, truly, the only time he heard it was during the match earlier today, "I really don't remember you."

You chuckle, "yeah, more so now than ever."

Kylo looks at the bright pink dress on your body and thinks it looks good on you, "you change your mind then?"

You take a sip of your drink and turn to him, "what?"

"You come here knowing it's where I'd be?" Kylo leans forward.

You raise a brow at him, "no. I came here to meet someone but I got stood up."

Kylo chuckles, "serves you right."

"Excuse me?" you tilt your head.

Kylo grins and stands, "you're excused."

Kylo walks off and heads for the dancefloor again even though the music was still slow. Why? Because fuck it. He was down to slow dance with strangers.

You take your turn to survey Kylo as he drunkenly moves to the dancefloor. He was incredibly large and even through his baggy clothes, you could tell he was quite athletically built. You turn away just before he catches you looking.

The entire time he dances, Kylo's eyes isn't closed like how they were a while ago. He was looking at you, faced to the bar, hunched over in a pretty pink dress, waiting for no one.

Pathetic. You should be dancing here with him.

He dodges a two headed alien that asks if he wants to have a good time and walks back to you.

He calls out your name and grabs your arm, making you turn to him from your seat with a glare that would have intimidated him, but he was drunk, and he could so take you... in more ways than one.

"Forget about that loser. He's not into you. I am. Dance with me."

You gotta hand it to him. He is confident. But then again, it'd be embarrassing to be in line for the throne and not be.

You take a moment to wonder how Kylo could possibly know you were waiting for a guy then decide he was just good at guessing, not that you looked pathetic right now. You pull your arm out of his grasp, "haven't we established I don't like you?"

"Yeah," Kylo scoffs, placing his hands on his hips, "well, I don't like you either."

You narrow your eyes at him, "why do you want me to dance with you then?"

"Because this is what lounges are for!" Kylo flails his hands out, "not for sulking."

You roll your eyes at him and turn away.

Kylo raises a finger and uses his Force to spin you around. When you realize this is what he did, you stand and look up at him, eyes devoid of any amusement, "you know, I don't care who you are. You're seriously pushing your luck right now."

Kylo enjoys a good conflict. He shakes his head the way drunk people do and raises a finger, "if you're going to waste your time waiting on someone you already know stood you up, wouldn't it be better for him to walk in on you having so much fun rather than looking miserable?"

You clench your jaw at his words and tense when he grabs your wrist and pulls you to the dance floor.

This time, you do not refute him, though you drag your feet on the way.

"Only to make him jealous," you say, walking close to Kylo.

Kylo makes a gagging sound, "how corny of you."

You shove him back, and Kylo is taken off guard by how strong you actually are. He collides into a group of people, who promptly shove him back towards you. You grunt as you catch him, keeping him upright.

"You're wasted," you hiss.

Kylo grins, "no, I'm Kylo."

You roll your eyes, pushing him away with less force, then turn around and leave him there.

Kylo grabs your arm before you can walk away any further .To his surprise, you do not repel him and easily fall back into his arms.

"We're meant to dance not to-"

Kylo shuts himself up when you speak a name that is not at all his.

He lifts up his eyes and sees a man looking at you with contempt. Before he can think, you shove him away and walk over to loser. The man eyes Kylo as you walk with him.

Kylo feels a headache coming on. He just stands there in the middle of the crowd, sticking out like sore thumb with how large and unmoving he was, waiting for the headache to come. To his luck, it doesn't.

He decides to go to the bathroom then settle his bill.

He busts open the men's bathroom door, cringing at the sound of moans that come to a halt when he enters. He quickly washes his hands and walks out, pulling out his comms device, sending a message to multiple people to have him get picked up.

He decides to drink some more as he waits.

He downs about three more cocktails before paying his dues and coming to terms with the fact no one was going to pick him up.

He sighs and drunkenly gets out of the lounge, gracelessly bumping into some people along the way.

He is surprised to see a pretty pink dress when he gets out to the curb.

Kylo calls out your name and hears you gasp.

When you turn to him, he swears he sobers up a fraction at the sight of your red eyes and tear stained cheeks.

He coughs and shifts on his spot, "you want me to kill him?" He points to no where.

You knit your brows and cross your arms, "what?"

"I can kill him for you," Kylo mutters.

You make a face and shake your head rapidly, "are you insane?"

"Yes," he mutters, "I don't like it when girls cry over guys-" he brushes his nose, "-s'why I don't date."

For a prolonged moment, you stare at Kylo, at this drunken Ben Solo, second in line to the Skywalker Empire, the same one who laughed at your joke that one time during lunch. You feel incredulous to the events that has transpired.

You weren't shocked that he didn't know you from university. For starters, he was a chronic repeater, turned drop out, which was insane to think considering he let the class copy off his exams, setting a new curve because of how many of them aced that test.

Ben Solo was the cool kid with bad habits, and he hung out with troopers in his spare time, which meant he didn't really know anyone beyond his circle.

And this Kylo persona was just the same as the Ben you once knew. Bigheaded, loud, and rebellious, with streaks of genuinity and thoughtfulness who wouldn't expect from him.

He was a loose canon in other words. This was why you didn't like him, why every time people would gush about him, you'd let yourself think opposite because nothing ever came out of liking a guy like him.

You ask through your clogged sinuses, rather out of context, "why can't I call you Ben?"

Kylo runs his hands through his hair, the umbrella he left there falls on the floor, "cause I don't like him."

"You don't like Ben?"

He shakes his head, "don't wanna be him."

A group of people exit the lounge the next moment, prompting Kylo to walk over to you to make way. You narrow your eyes at his answer and wipe your face. He probably meant he doesn't want to assume his roles as a prince.

You find yourself chuckling.

Everyone's got their own thing, you think.

"You're drunk," you mutter, making him turn to you.

"I'm Kylo," he repeats once more, making you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, I got that, prince."

Kylo grumbles, looking away from you, "shut up."

The word triggers you, because the man you thought you loved and would love you back just spoke the same words to you a while ago. You look at him, emotions flaring up all over again. They manifest in rage and contempt, "no."

Kylo turns back to you, face fully annoyed.

"It's the truth, isn't it?" you stab, "why do I have to shut up about it?"

Kylo shakes his head and let out a deep breath. The smell of alcohol makes you pull back, "now I really don't like you."

You scoff, "well I really don't like you either."

"I didn't even do anything to you," he raises a finger, "and you rejected me?" he retorts in full offence.

You pull your head back at his words.

He begins to trail off, "what? Was I a jerk to you in uni? I wouldn't have been because I barely talked to anyone there, so I know you're just being spiteful."

Is he really on about that? You make a face, "have you never been rejected before."

"Of course I've been rejected," he sputters out, "just not without unfounded reason."

You cannot believe what you're hearing, it was like this moment really was a reply of your earlier encounter.

"Are you trying to say I'm being senseless?"

Kylo scoffs, "I'm saying you getting dumped is the universe balancing itself out."

You let out a dry laugh, "wow," you step on his foot, making him reel back in pain, "asshole!"

Kylo nearly topples over as he pulls his leg back and grunts, "you little shit!"

You very much walk away after that. You manage to storm to the edge of the street before you can't move at all anymore.

It takes the honking obnoxious sounds of Kylo coming near for you to realize it was all his doing.

He comes over like a siren, screaming out in the otherwise quiet street, "give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you out into orbit right now."

You turn to him, feeling just a fraction of a tinge of fear rise up into because he was from a line of powerful Force users after all. But then you remember Ben Solo was all bark and hardly any bite. You scoff, "well, for starters, I don't think you could even if you wanted to."

Kylo laughs. It's honestly pretty dark it makes your skin break out with gooseflesh.

"If you could, you'd have done it by now-" you choke on your last word. Literally, Kylo force chokes you up until he gets close enough to press his hand on your throat.

In all honestly, you were in a damning situation, and yet you were more focused on the way he licked his lips, grit his teeth, and rubbed his fingers on your skin. That, and the fact that you still could actually breathe through the pressure he was putting on you.

You felt your stomach roll.

He pulls you close to him, and before you can think of fighting back, he uses his force to keep your body pinned in place.

He releases you altogether and gives you a once over, "don't underestimate the things I can do."

Kylo looks at the cut on your lip, drawn over with lipstick. He thinks of licking the color off, "the things I want to do to you."

Your heart skips a beat. You huff, hands shooting to his sides the moment he releases you from his Force hold.

His other hands comes to your neck. He tilts your head up at him.

You heave, "and what do you want to do with me... Ben?"

He hisses, "put out that glint in your eye," he steps forward, pressing his fingers into my scalp, "make you beg."

You feel your stomach roll.

It amplifies when Kylo traces the injuries on your face with his fingers.

Needless to say, Kylo was wholly surprised but fully pleased when you got back to your place and didn't put up much a fight against him.

He was a kinky fucker, making you get on your knees, making you do his every whim, making you call him sir.

You figured pretty quickly that he probably craved to be in control, considering how bossy he was. Kylo figured the opposite for you, considering how readily you were to be told what to do.

He fully enjoys making you undress him, especially with all the lip worship you gave on his burning skin. He half regrets making you undress yourself, considering how satisfying it was to see you strip. He would have loved it more had he done it himself. Maybe next time.

He massages your body the moment your bare. He makes it a point not to press on your bruised skin, but then the inner sadist in him felt his insides ignite at the whimper that left your lips when his hand brush over your swollen hips.

"Kylo," you moaned as he kneaded at your sides while he trailed kisses down your sternum.

He lifts his head, smirking as you tugged at his hair, asking for his attention.

"Yes, my sweet?"

With you pressed beneath him on your bed, you buck your hips upward into him. He feels his cockiness double with your neediness.

"I'm gonna have to hear you beg, baby girl," Kylo muses, "that's our deal."

You whimper, "please."

Kylo is insufferable. He grabs your bare thighs and pulls them apart, rubbing himself in your already sopping heat. He pouts, feigning confusion, "please what?"

"Please, sir," you whine.

He laughs, asking again, "please sir what?"

"Please, sir, do something."

How desperate. Adorable.

Kylo sighs and nibbles on your breast as you tighten your legs around him, "hmmm, let me take my time."

Your soft flesh reluctantly retreats out of his mouth as you force his head off you by lifting it up. Your nipple is grazed out of Kylo's teeth as you shimmy beneath him, pushing your way down against his wishes, wanting nothing more than to be aligned on him.

You want to be a brat? Game.

Next thing you know you're paying your dues, pressed on your knees, hands bound to the bed with his belt as he lets your needy core drip down your parted thigh as he barely touches you with his fingers.

"One more time," Kylo coaxes as you sob and whine.

"I'm sorry, sir," you sigh in defeat, eyes watering at the edging.

Kylo shushes you, though he laughs and shifts behind you. Your body jolts you feel him grab your hips that have been tirelessly hanging in the air, waiting for this very moment to come to pass.

"Now, remind me what you want again?" Kylo says as he brushes the tip of his length against your entrance.

You let out a pathetic cry, feeling your core flutter in anticipation. You desperately cry out his name.

He appreciates it, but it isn't an answer. He tells you this exactly.

"Need you," you mutter, "need you to fuck me."

Kylo's ego is through the roof. "Need me to fuck you?" he repeats, though he does not give away how much that strokes his ego.

He does not forget your lack of respect though, "where's that sir, baby?"

You nearly sob as you repeat yourself, "need you to fuck me, sir."

You let out a lewd noise when you feel him slowly push into you.

You immediately try to fuck yourself onto him, but you're too delirious, and he's too strong for you to follow through. Kylo locks you in place, pulling you tightly against him, "hold on, pretty girl. Don't ruin this for me. Need you to calm down and take me well."

All you can do is pull at your bounds, further helping the bruises form there for visibly.

"Kylo," you groan in an empty threat and desperate plea.

"Okay, okay," he chuckles, slowly beginning to move.

You graciously moan in response.

He immediately quickens his pace.

Your noises grow louder.

Kylo wonders about your neighbors. He smiles and decides he doesn't care though. The next moment he thrusts into you so punishingly, as if it was a punishment. But no it felt so good.

Your bodies slamming against each other makes your bed creak in distress as it, itself, ruts into the wall behind its headboard.

You drool on your arm as you breathe hotly against it.

Kylo drives you further into insanity by rubbing into clit.

Needless to say, the next thing you know, you're making even more of a mess and your legs begin to give out as he continues to brutalize into your tenderness.

You come around him with a frantic cry and feel your body quake and tighten around him.

The ripples of ecstasy continue to ride out and heighten when Kylo comes inside you, pouring all his heat, frustration, and want into you.

He basks in your wetness the way you bask in his hardness. Your toes curl and your air leaves you. Kylo's rigid thrusts continuously grow sloppier.

A few moments pass and you both go putty.

You very much remember going for a less intense, more intimate round two after, with him leaning against your headboard and you maneuvering up and down him as your chests pressed together. You very much also remember Kylo curling into you later that night.

What you don't remember was ever kissing him, or feeling him get up to leave the morning after.

So it was a big fuck you when you saw him later that day, with his stupid ass shades in the middle of the afternoon as he whimpered over a ticket.

You made a mental note of the make and plate number of his air speeder next time he makes a mistake of parking it here.

The truth was, Kylo had been waiting for you at the burrito store, not knowing you didn't have a shift that day, and once the pudgy guy, a funny guy honestly, name Marley, told him he couldn't loiter there, he bought a burrito and asked where you were. Marley told him that you didn't have a shift today, so then he made Marley promise to pass a message to you. Kylo trusted him to tell you that he wanted to apologize for leaving.

That fucking summit earlier today was so fucking boring.

And Marley did mean to pass the message on, it's just that he forgot after taking so many burrito orders.

So it came as an even bigger fuck you when Kylo came to your match that same day, cheering you on.

What you wouldn't do to have him trapped in this cage with you.

You made it a point to tell the guys at The Death Star, not to let 500 credits dude anywhere near your changing room later that day, nor to let him in the place again, in fact, unless he was willing to pay 500 credits as a door charge.

So the next day, guess who wastes 500 credits trying to get into The Death Star for absolutely no reason?

Kylo does.

You didn't even fight that day.

The day after that, he has half the brain to go to the burrito stand again instead.

You nearly lunge at him and the stupid shades propped on his pointed nose through the window when he says, "you made your guy charge me 500 credits as a door fee?"

"Sorry, I only do burritos here," you quip back, "don't know what you're talking about."

Kylo brings out some units, "20 burritos then," he raises a finger, "I'll give a tip only if they're made by you."

You growl at him, nearly swatting the credits off the window sill, "the fuck do you need 20 burritos for?"

"I have a family!" Kylo calls back.

"And you're their burrito provider?" you scoff back.

"I am, actually," Kylo growls, "this is the only place in the capital that has nice burritos!"

Marley overhears this and pushes you aside, "why thank you, Kylo."

Kylo turns to him, clearing his throat, "it's not really a compliment. It's my opinion."

Marley beams, "and a great one! You know, I've been meaning to tell you, you look so much like our star prince, Prince Ben Solo."

You watch as Ben Solo cringes and waves his hand, "trust me, we look nothing alike."

You scoff at him.

Marley doesn't get to refute that as suddenly, he remembers something and turns to you, "oh," he gasps, "that reminds me. Kylo was here when you didn't have a shift and said he wanted to speak to you."

You pull your head back, "what?"

Kylo's eye twitches, "wait, are you saying you didn't pass my message to her?"

Marley turns to Kylo, "well, I was stacked up with burrito orders-"

The ding of an alarm from behind you indicates that you no longer have to listen to him, as your shift just ended.

You're not dealing with this.

You immediately hang up your apron and promptly leave, heading out the back, trailing down the narrow alley.

Before you could even reach the end of the exit, you jolt back when you see a heaving Kylo run up to you and block your passage.

You glare at him, watching his adam's apple bob as he gulped. You, yourself, gulp at that.

"I had to leave because I had a duty early in the morning," he rushes out.

You huff and push past him, shoving him back. Again, he forgets about your strength, not that he remembers much about that night beyond your sweet sounds, and is shocked when he nearly topples back.

Kylo does feel something familiar with how he uses his Force to keep you from walking away.

"Kylo, I will fucking deck you, I swear to--"

"I didn't think of leaving a note because I panicked and I'm an idiot."

Kylo circles around you and raises his hands in surrender. He accepts the consequence of you decking him if you really meant to once he removes his Force hold.

You sigh deeply, but don't bash his head against the pavement. He is grateful for it.

"So," Kylo starts, "do you still hate me?"

You narrow your eyes at him and scoff, "what is that? An apology with no apology?"

Kylo watches you walk off and chases after you, not at all convincingly responding with a, "I'm sorry!"

To be fair, even he could tell that he sounded more confused that apologetic.

"Take a hike, Ben."

Kylo growls. He pulls his shades off and manages to stand in front of you. He clenches his jaw and points with his glasses, "you know what. I hate you too."

Your face contorts. You scoff, "great," you force a smile, moving on.

He blocks you again when you sidestep, "you have made me spend thousands of credits in such a short span of time."

You sidestep once more, only to have him block you.

"I never asked you to do any of that!"

"So you're not sorry," Kylo narrows his eyes.

"Not at all," you gleam.

"Then that fucking does it!" he barks.

You look up at him as he seethes.

He steps forward, "you hate me, cause I'm an dick, and I hate you, cause you're a bitch."

You let out an incredulous laugh and feel your insides rage.

You grab him, intent on seriously hurting him, but it seems he anticipates it and grabs you right back then spins you over. He pushes you against the wall of the dingy building, pinning you against his body.

He can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

You can feel your heart hammering in yours.

Neither of you can tell the other felt the same.

"Let me go, you fucking-"

"But I'm sure you can't say fucking without thinking of me fucking you, huh," he mutters under his breath as he brings his face near yours.

You tense at his words. You feel your breathing strain after.

Kylo's lips barely curve.

Defiantly, yet halfheartedly, you mutter under your breath, "fuck you."

He leans in and rubs his nose against your ear, "that can be arranged."

When Kylo releases you, you shove him back and walk off.

He heaves as he watches you storm away. He releases a breath in annoyance and licks his lips, finding himself gritting his teeth at his shoes. He got all worked up for nothing?

"Hey!"

Kylo lifts his head

"You better keep watching my matches," you say, turning to him as you walked back, "I get a cut from the door charge."

Kylo shifts in his spot. He does not show how he is pleased to know you want him to come to you again, "that 100% markup is cruel."

You shrug, "well, I hate you, so..."

Kylo holds back his laugh, "you'll pay for that, pretty girl."

You ignore the way your stomach rolls at his pet name. "Make me," you mock, turn away, then walk off, "see you, Ben."

Kylo scoffs, "oh, I'll make you."

[zodiyack]

Closed Doors

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x (nonship)daughter!Reader, Shelby family x (nonship)Shelby!Reader, Best friend character x fem!reader lol

Warnings: slight angst, fear of homophobia?, fluff, mention of drinking

Words: 414

Request: Hi! I was wondering could you do a pesky blinders fic where the reader is Tommy’s daughter and is gay but too afraid to come out until he finds her making out with her best friend one day (much like your Tommy’s son fic but with a lady?)

Note: oh god i haven't been able to write for a while, and im posting this on mobile (also meaning it'll take a bit to put it on my master list) regardless i hope it's okay. I also forgot who all is on the taglist now, this is just the taglist from when i saved this as a draft. Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @jenepleurepasbaby, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @stuckysslag, @psychkunox, @i-love-superhero, @marquelapage, @peakyxtommy, @stydia-4-ever, @babylooneytoonz, @livlaughquinn​, @bubsonnobx​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Tommy walked along the street, pointing out random boys and joking with his brothers. "Wonder what kind of lad Y/N will end up with..." Not that he'd accept just anyone in his daughter's life.

Arthur snorted, "any guy out here would have to go through me. John and you too, no doubt."

John and Thomas nodded with a hearty laugh. "They'd have to fight that friend of hers too, she never leaves her side."

The men continued to bicker and chortle on their walk to the house.

"Hello Mr. Shelby!" Sonia chimed. Sonia was always welcomed, Y/N's best friend. She never had to ask, simply walk through the front door. He greeted her back as she sped up the stairs to Y/N's room, closing the door behind her.

After a few hours, and after the rest of the company went out, Thomas decided he wanted to go to Garrison. As he was the only one home, aside from the two girls, he made his way up the stairs to notify them of his absence.

The courtesy of knocking escaped him as he pushed her door open, the payment for such action taking a gasp from his parted lips. Before him was the sight of his daughter and her best friend, lips upon each other's, quickly separating at the sound of the door.

"Dad-" Y/N's eyes welled with tears, crushing Tommy's heart, and seemingly Sonia's as she looked to her friend with concern.

"Mr. Shelby, I promise-"

"Don't." He looked down and leaned against the door frame. "Why do you feel the need to hide away? Why couldn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry..." She sobbed quietly.

"Don't be. It's who you are, what is there to be sorry about?"

Sonia perked up, "you're not mad?"

Thomas let out a genuine chuckle. "Why would I be?"

"My parents...they weren't too fond of my attraction to Y/N. We feared that you'd feel the same." He felt empathy for the shaking girl, her gaze averted in shame.

"I take pity that your parents are ignorant. You cannot control who you love. In this case, it's my daughter. My only asks, are that you treat her well..."

The girls looked hopeful, staring at him anticipating his continuation. "And?"

"And that you keep the door open when you're in her room. I trust that you can respect these requests. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go to the Garrison and have a drink."

-

Bonus:

"do you think he's drinking because of us?" Sonia asked fearfully.

Y/N chucked, "no, he just likes to drink."

[rorywritesjunk]

I don't blame you for being you But you can't blame me for hating it

A prank goes wrong, punishment laid out, and an accidental first kiss all in one day for Buggy.

Rating: PG Warning: Talk of first kiss, some tears, and a kiss. Buggy runs for his life at one point. Trying to remember what it was like being 13 and talking to my friends and then I remembered what I was like as a teenager and decided to just write this the way it is. A/N: A request from a lovely Anon! This took a few tries to get it right. I tried, I hope you like it!

Title comes from "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More 'Touch Me'" by Fall Out Boy.

Part 2

It was a dumb prank gone wrong. 

Buggy thought Shanks was going to walk into the room where the door had the bucket balanced on the top of it and against the frame. He expected it, knowing Shanks usually came back to the crew’s quarters that time of day to rest, and so it made perfect sense it would have been Shanks coming in, opening the door, and the bucket would fall on him.

Why oh why did it have to be you?

Buggy questioned that as you lifted the bucket off your head slowly, soaked to the bone by the cold water he had acquired. It wasn’t that Buggy was scared of you, no, he was just terrified of you when you were angry and he saw the look in your eyes as you focused on him, tossing the bucket aside as you took a step toward him.

“H-Hang on, this was a mistake! It was supposed to be Shanks!”

“You’re dead, Buggy!”

He wondered how you planned to do it as you lunged for him, but he was quick, splitting his body apart to avoid you before he took off running, his body rejoining together once it passed through the door frame. It was still weird and he was still getting used to his Devil Fruit powers, but it came in handy when he needed to avoid you trying to kill him. 

You were fast, chasing after him with little regard for your surroundings. You pushed through crewmen, jumped over supplies, and almost took the captain out as Buggy ran for his life, shrieking his pleas of mercy as you got closer to him. He knew what you were capable of in battle, he had seen first hand how you knock opponents over before thrusting a dagger into their neck or threatening to cut their tongue out. The three of you kids were only 13, young enough to play pranks but old enough to kill, to have seen fights you’ve only heard about in stories. 

Buggy actually feared for his life in that moment when he felt you grab him by the back of his shirt, jerking his body back to you. His arms and legs split off, still running while he shrieked about being left behind. They popped back on immediately, as though pulled back by elastic, snapping into place as he desperately tried to think of how to escape.

“Why did you do that, Buggy?!” You demanded as you pushed him up against some crates. “T-That was mean!”

“I didn’t know you would come in, I was expecting Shanks!” Buggy exclaimed as he tried to think of how he could get around you when you had him cornered. If he split apart, he ran the risk of you still grabbing one of his body parts, possibly chucking it over the side of the ship. 

“Why didn’t you just ask Shanks to come down at a certain time?!” 

“H-He always comes into the room at this time!”

“He asked me to come down and get something for him!” 

“How was I supposed to know that?!” 

You glared at him, sniffling, and it was that moment Buggy saw the tears in your eyes, your face was red, and there was a dark mark on your nose from the rim of the bucket hitting you. Wait, did the prank hurt you? It wasn’t meant to, it was just meant to get the person drenched from the water in the bucket, not actually hurt them. Buggy scratched his head, looking away from you as he hoped you wouldn’t start full-on crying in front of him. He had seen you cry a few times and it was always uncomfortable. He didn’t want to see it again.

“You’re such a jerk, Buggy!” You snapped. “Say you're sorry!”

“It's not my fault! I'm not gonna say sorry!” Buggy shot back. “It was supposed to be Shanks getting soaked with water, not you! It's not my fault it got you instead!” 

You glared at him, sniffling loudly as tears streamed down your face. This was uncomfortable for him to see. He never saw you cry like this. He scratched his head, looking away again as he considered his next words. 

“D’you… wanna help me set it back up and get Shanks this time?”

~

It… wasn’t Shanks who the bucket landed on. 

It was Rayleigh of all people. He had come to check on you, hearing about you and Buggy having a fight, but he didn’t expect to walk into the room and get hit with a bucket full of water. The fear he put in the two of you as he slowly removed the bucket from his head  was enough to have you both begging him for forgiveness. 

You two had to do nightwatch for a week, which sucked because your sleeping schedule was going to get messed up from it. You and Buggy begrudgingly did it, knowing that complaining would do nothing to appease the first mate; he would just assign a harsher punishment.

Buggy had brought a blanket up to the crow’s nest, knowing how cold it could get. The two of you sat huddled underneath it, keeping an eye out for possible enemy ships that could be coming for the crew. Despite how mad you were at him earlier, this was… kind of fun, just the two of you. Before when you’d have these shifts, Shanks was with you, but he got to sleep while you two poked and pinched each other to keep awake. 

Something crossed your mind as the two of you sat up there, trying to think of a conversation topic that wasn’t just about treasure. The other night you listened to the boys talk about their ‘firsts’ since hearing the older men talk about their own earlier in the day: first loves, kisses, kills, getting drunk, things like that. The boys were discussing what their own firsts were and well, being 13, there were a few things that hadn’t happened yet. It was just you and Buggy up in the crow’s nest, no one else, so you cleared your throat and looked at him.

“Buggy, have you kissed anyone yet?”

That was not the question he was expecting and he turned to stare at you in horror, mouth open in surprise as he processed those words. Why the hell did you ask him that? Where did that question even come from? His face started to turn red and he scooted away from you.

“I-I don’t - why are you - no! I mean, yes!... no, why are you asking me that?!” He sputtered, words jumbled together as he looked at you nervously, waiting for the teasing, your laughter, but you were just looking at him curiously.

“You and Shanks were talkin’ about it the other night.”

“W-Why are you asking? You can’t just ask that!” Buggy shot back, face burning as he recalled the conversation. Neither boy had their first kiss which the men had talked about being a Big Deal. They would have to wait until they got to an island for it as Buggy didn’t want it to be with Shanks. You were out of the question too, he knew you’d just threaten him to chase him and he didn’t need to deal with that. 

“I was just curious!” You told him with a shrug. “I haven’t either. I didn’t want it to be with Shanks.”

“I don’t want mine with Shanks either!”

“D’you want it before Shanks?” You asked him curiously. “‘Cause next place we stop at, he’ll probably get some cute boy or girl to kiss him. He’s good at talking to people, you know.”

Buggy’s face was still burning as he shook his head. “I don’t wanna think about Shanks kissing someone, that’s just gross and weird. Why did you bring it up?”

“I dunno, making conversation.” You shrugged. “Plus, you guys were talking about it and I was curious. I mean, I had my first kill but not my first kiss.”

“That’s a weird way to make conversation.” He mumbled, scratching his cheek as he glanced at you. “Wait, you haven’t?”

“Nope. Shanks asked yesterday and I said no.” You told him, your cheeks a little pink. “I wanted it to be with someone I liked.” You cleared your throat and glanced at him. “Can it be with you?”

Buggy’s brain paused, stuttered, and jumped back to life as he stared at you. “Didn’t you just say you wanted it to be with someone you liked?”

Right, teenagers were kind of dumb and Buggy was no exception. 

“Buggy.” You shook your head and scooted closer to him. “Even though you’re a jerk sometimes, I still like you.” 

“W-What?!” 

You hesitated and glanced at him, wondering how he’d react, but you leaned forward, quickly pecking him on the cheek before scooting away from him. The cheek didn’t count, you heard the boys say, it had to be on the lips and well, you didn’t necessarily want to take that away from Buggy if he didn’t like you back. You were pretty sure he didn’t.

He turned even redder and you pulled back, scooting a few inches away from him. Buggy swallowed heavily and looked at you, eyes wide before he looked away for a moment before turning his attention back to you. If he had even thought of doing that without asking, you’d chase him around the ship and throw him overboard without hesitation.

“You can kiss me if you want.” You mumbled, looking away from him. “On the cheek, though, ‘cause… it’s only fair, I guess, since I kissed you on the cheek.”

Buggy hesitated for a moment, trying to think of a response, but if he didn’t do this now, Shanks would have done something momentous before Buggy did and well, he wasn’t okay with that. Nodding, Buggy cleared his throat and leaned over, but someone down below called your name so you turned your head, nose bumping Buggy’s, a soft honk being heard, and he accidentally kissed you and well, he was surprised he was still alive.

“Oh.”

“Yea.”

“... that was it?” You asked. Buggy scratched his head and shrugged.

“I didn’t mean to, but… yea.” He pulled back and pulled his end of the blanket tightly around himself. “Please don’t throw me overboard.”

“I won’t.” You promised. He glanced over at you. “Promise.”

“Can I tell Shanks?” Buggy asked.

“Yea, go for it.” You smiled a bit. “Don’t see why not.” A pause. “But make sure he doesn’t think he can get one from me, got it?”

Buggy thought of it for a moment, which was a mistake because you grabbed him by the front of his shirt suddenly, but he held his hands up, nodding. “Yea, yea! I promise, I’ll tell him but make sure he doesn’t come asking you!”

“Good.” 

Buggy was grateful to survive the night because you had another six days with him. He just needed to hold off on the pranks for a bit, make sure no one would suspect something, and he’d try to get Shanks again. Maybe you’ll help him next time.

[crescencestudio]

๋࣭⭑ Devlog #38 | 2.27.24 ๋࣭⭑

How is it already almost March omfg.

Anyways Happy Valentine's Day month!!! This year, I was swamped with work, so I didn't get a chance to make Valentine's Day art. I did make a Valentine's piece last year though.

BUT we did have beloved @magunalafay make these Valentine's Day cards this year for the community!!! <3 If you missed it, well Happy Valentine's Day!!!!!

She made these as a gift, and I love her very much. Maguna u r so talented

This month was pretty busy for me, but I'm super happy with the progress made this month ^^ I feel like I've started the year off in a pretty good groove after it being all over the place for a hot second, yay!!!

This past month, Etza and Druk's routes. With the revamped demo finishing its revisions, it left a lot more time for me to focus writing on full route development.

If you missed the announcement, I FINISHED Etza's first draft!!! YAAAYYY!!!! FINALLY!!!!!!

That means 4/6 routes are finished in terms of the base writing, which is so exciting to MEEEEE. I've always seen Etza's draft as The Milestone because with their route finished, it would mean the four Central routes are done writing. And to me, while there's a good chuck of writing left, we are nearing the end of it.

There's only two routes left and that means it's about ~100k words which is CRAZY compared to when I had ~300k to write (:cries:). Even if that sounds like a lot, once I start chipping away at those routes, that 100k goes into the "double digits" aka 90k...80k... etc. and that makes me want to pee my pants

We also finished editing Druk's route, yay!!! So we reached a lot of milestones this month ^^

We are nearing the end of the Vui background commissions. It's very bittersweet; I'm so used to mentioning him in my devlogs now </3 There's only like 3(?) more BGs left for him to make, and then all of the BGs for the game will be finished. Very Wild! I think Alaris will have 25ish BGs, and they are all Stunning.

It's been a while since I showed you all a BG, so I'll give you all a preview of one I just got in!

Isn't it cozy? Guess whose house hehe

I personally have been doing a lot of sprite work this month to finish the final art assets for the demo. I added some expressions to Druk and Aisa that I'd been procrastinating (I don't even know why I was procrastinating them). And I finally finished Mom and Kimura's updated sprites! Patreon already saw them, but I'll show the new versions here too ^^

Preview of Mom (left) and Kimura (right) updated sprites. Now everyone's sprite styles are cohesive YAY!!

Aside from sprite work, much of my "art" time has been on finishing up/putting together the last of the screens for the GUI. Specifically, I got THIS BABY up and running. She is my crowning glory.

Memory Screen to Replay Unlocked Free Time Dates

Oh my god.... You all have NO IDEA how much of a pain this was to code. There is a transparency gradient going on in the left and right B&W previews (courtesy of community programming angel feniks/shawna).

And then the effort to have the Titles and Descriptions of the Previewed Date change tilted me on Multiple Occasions. But we finally got it to work thanks to bestie @siyo-koy pointing out I just coded one stupid "if" statement wrong LJAFSLIEFJIEJ. But the effort was WORTH IT because I'm so proud of her!!! I hope you all like it too as a way to relive Free Time Dates. I had a lot of fun with the Titles and descriptions.

I also put together the Stats and Affection Screens

Preview of Personality Stats & Affection Screens

So I coded both of them a bit differently from each other. The Personality Screen shows you a breakdown of your traits so far. Think of it like a pie graph! So in the preview picture, your choices indicate you are 33% Brave, 16% Charismatic, etc. I felt like this was a more natural way to portray personality rather than how many bravery points you've collected so far!

And then for Affection, it works in a more traditional way, where it counts it based on how many you've gotten out of the total amount you can get. This way, as the story progresses, how close you are to the person reflects how much your relationship as developed!

I've also added little descriptions underneath each that change depending on the percentage. So for example, if you have gotten 82% of the affection points for Kuna'a, the description of your relationship might change as well hehe

Other than that, I've mainly focused on getting the demo together. We released the beta demo earlier this month (? LOL). And the feedback has been so kind!!

A lot of this month was spent polishing so that the demo can be ready for early access and eventually public release. I updated sprites, made sure music crossfades with each other so that transitions between soundtracks feel smoother, I added/polished all of the screens I needed to (e.g., Memory Room, Full Credits, Cleaning Music Room, Adding Stats Screens), and I FINALLY as of yesterday added the Voiced Lines!!

One thing I added in the Extended Demo that I'm really happy with is the use of Extended Pronouns (courtesy of Angel Feniks). Below is a preview of how it works now!

Preview of Extended Pronouns Function. Credit to Feniks

Basically, you can choose multiple pronouns for yourself, including custom pronouns (e.g., xe/xem, fae/faer, etc.). On top of that, you can choose how often you'd like the pronouns to alternate (e.g., every line versus every scene) and what kind of terms you'd like to be used for you (e.g., neutral vs. masculine vs. feminine)!

Overall, the demo is getting closer and closer to release!!! Early Access will hopefully be ready by the end of this week or next, so if you all would like access to it, please feel free to subscribe to my Patreon for this upcoming month! Available to Wyvern tier ($5) and up.

I didn't have any time to really play any games this month because I was drowning in work LMFAOSLJIEF. I did play the Threads of Bay demo by @lavendeerstudios and it was GORGEOUS! Very cute game with lovable characters and charming visuals. Andrew, I will have your number

Every other section was really long, so I'm going to throw it here even though it's not market research. But Intertwine recently hit 600 ratings, which is crazy. Thank you for still enjoying that game even if it's not one that is my main focus anymore. I'm really happy people still like it :on the verge of tears:

Anyways, this has been a long devlog. Here's to continuing to Ball in March. Hope you all have a great rest of your month, and I'll talk to you soon! <3

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey bubs, I have a request and I’m sorry it’s long 😅 Werebear! Ari x plus size reader🫶🏽

Maybe one day in there relationship she wakes up in a not so good mood about herself which causes her to be insecure for the day and throughout the day she sees girls flirting with ari and thought he flirted back.

Air takes notice of this and just plans for cute movie night, but reader is still not in a good mood so maybe they fight and they both says some hurtful things, nothingness reader and him both apologize and ari just showers her affection and reassurance that he’s only got eyes for her and no else and that he loves her 🥺 what do you think??

hello, don't apologise! okay, so this is my first plus size reader, and I hope you like it, but I would just like to say. no matter what you read in this story, this is not you. do not see yourself as disgusting, ugly, fat, etc. In real life, whether you have more flesh than someone else or less, you are beautiful inside and out. If you ever feel like what the reader feels, please find a friend you can talk to about this (I can be that friend!). but remember, no matter what you look like, you are gorgeous and if someone else doesn't see that. It means they aren't right for you. they aren't meant to be around a god/goddess like you. YOU ARE PERFECT! (also, I do get how it feels, I no longer trust my mind or people from it, haha.)

summary - reader wakes up feeling flawed, seeing everything wrong with their body. ari doesn't catch on as fast and accidentally makes you think he wants someone else. will the issue be resolved after a fight you two have?

warning - angst, insecure reader, nasty thoughts, sad reader and ari, mentions of cheating, fluff.

the gif I use isn’t mine, divider by @newlips

You look at yourself in the mirror, staring at the clump of flesh on your stomach, hips and thighs, frowning at the stretchmarks and how fat the skin looks as you switch angles, wondering why it looks worse the more you stare. Your eyes flit over to a photo of you and Ari, and the frown on your face deepens as you wonder how someone like him would want to be with someone like you. When you found out, Ari wasn’t human. You accepted him because you knew how it felt to be pushed aside for being or looking different, but you would never understand how he can look at you and see something he likes, not when there’s someone better out there for him.

As you hear Ari get closer to the room, you quickly chuck on the gorgeous sundress that he bought you. Still, no matter how pretty it was, whenever you looked in the mirror, the prettiness seemed to be sucked out of the dress, causing you to feel disgusted because you ruined something so gorgeous. 

When Ari entered the room, you put on your best fake smile, and when he wrapped his bulky arms around your chubby form, you tried to hide the grimace you felt, praying he couldn’t feel your rolls underneath. You meet his eyes as he leans down to place a kiss on your plump lips. His compliments go unnoticed as your ears are too busy ringing, your mind filled with horrible thoughts and feelings. 

“Are you ready to go, Tulip?” 

‘Go? Go where?’ You blink, slowly coming out of your haze as you try and think of where you guys are going.

“Remember, baby? You wanted to go to the markets and buy some fresh fruits for the pies you wanted to bake.”

‘Oh, why did I suggest something like that? I wasn’t in my right mind to suggest baking something that would make me fatter. Am I trying to make Ari run for the hills?’

You don’t remember how you got into the car, but you feel Ari resting his hand on your fat thigh, causing you to squirm because the longer his hand stays, the more he’ll become disgusted. Ari tries to talk to you, but you can’t seem to hear a word that comes out of his mouth. Everything seems like a blur once you get to the markets. Walking from one stall to another, picking up the freshest fruits you both can find, occasionally Ari would look at you and smile, kissing your cheek and holding you close to him, but that seemed to fly over your head. 

How other women seemed to look at the two of you didn't fly over your head. They’d flirt with Ari as if you weren’t standing right next to him, wrapped up in his arms. Your eyes glazed over for a split second when you heard Ari respond to them. Deep down, you knew he was being nice, that he’d never look, think or flirt with another woman because Ari deeply loved you. Still, for some reason, you thought he was flirting back. You’ve never seen that smile on him before.

‘Why was he looking at her like that? Did he like how thin she was? That she didn’t have so many rolls or flesh? Did he like how she could fill her sundress perfectly? Did Ari want her instead?’ You don’t notice Ari dismissing the woman’s flirtations or that he looks down at you with concern. Because why would you? You’re so lost in your head that your mind and reality are merging.

Ari pulls you closer to him, his hand coming up to stroke your puffy cheeks. “Hey, Tulip. You with me?” 

You blink, and your eyes slowly move up. You nod because your throat feels too dry for you to speak. Ari nods even though he’s unsure about how you're feeling. You both begin to leave the markets, and throughout the day, it’s a repeat, women flirt. You think Ari is flirting back, and you hate yourself and your body because maybe if you looked like one of those models. You’d be able to keep a man.

You are so spaced out that you don’t notice Ari grabbing your favourite snacks, nor do you see that when you get home, he sets up the lounge room for movie night. Putting on your favourite horror movie because he knows you prefer horror over romance.

While he’s busy setting up something that will hopefully make you feel better, you change into a pair of trackies, and just as you pull on one of his shirts, Ari walks in with a big smile, his eyes moving up and down your body causing you to squirm. 

“What?!” You snap, not wanting him to have the time to judge how ugly you really are, and your arms come around to hug yourself.

Ari’s hands fly up, “Woah, what’s with the attitude, Tulip?” He frowns when you glare, not understanding why you’ve been off today. “What’s wrong with you? Talk to me.” He slowly moves forward.

“What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with me!? Like you don’t know! I saw how you looked at those women! I saw how wanted them!” You screamed, desperately holding back the tears because you don’t want to add weakness to the pile of things wrong with you. 

Ari’s brows furrow, beginning to feel irritated with your insecurities. “Tulip, you know damn well that I didn’t flirt with those women! You know that I don’t want them, no matter how fucking skinny they look!” He growls, and his nose twitches in anger. Ari’s eyes move down your form. In his mind, he doesn’t see you as anything but beautiful. But that’s not how you see his look. All you see is disgust, and your heart clenches.

“Bullshit! Why the fuck should I believe you?! All you do is lie to me! I’ve seen you go after them when you think I’m not looking! You don’t think I don’t notice that you don’t touch me when you shift! When you need someone to mate with, but you leave instead!” Your hands tangled into your hair as you scream, tears building up as you think of those lonely nights when you look down at yourself and wish you could just cut the skin off. Because then maybe he’d pick you, perhaps he’d want you as his mate.

“Are you fucking serious!?” Ari growls, stalking forward until his large form towers over your shivering one. “You think I’d fucking go out and cheat on you?! You think the whole time I chased you, trying to prove that I wanted you was all for nothing?! Why the fuck would I waste my time with you if I wanted someone skinnier, someone with fewer fucking problems?! Do you not see that I don’t mate with you because I could fucking hurt you!” He roars, eyes glazed over with fury. His anger is more aimed at himself for not seeing how much you were hurting.

‘Skinner, fewer problems, waste of time, don’t want to mate with you, cheat.’ These words ring in your head, and your heart clenches as it all becomes too much. You look up at Ari with tears in your eyes, and your fists pound on his chest. “I hate you! I hate you!” Both hearts break as tears begin to roll down both of your faces. Ari quickly pulls you into his arms, wrapping you securely against him as he strokes your head.

“Oh, Tulip. I’m so fucking sorry. You’re my goddess, and I love you so much.” Ari’s voice cracks, and his eyes close as he basks in the feel of holding you in his arms, letting out a sigh of relief as you sink into his hold. 

“I’m so sorry, Bear! I’m sorry. Please forgive me! I don’t hate you. I love you so much.” You bury your face into his chest, and your tears soak his shirt as your sobs fill the room. You felt lucky that you had someone like Ari in your life. 

Ari pulls away and kneels on the ground, placing loving kisses all over your stomach, hips and thighs, showing how much he loves your body, proving he’s unbothered by your insecurities and that he only sees it as perfection. Ari looks up at you and pouts. “There’s nothing I’ll find more beautiful in this world than you, Tulip. Not the sun. Not the moon. Not even the entire galaxy compares to the light you radiate wherever you go.” Your breath hitches from his words, feeling your cracked heart begin to heal.

You reach down and stroke his cheek, watching his eyes flutter closed, a soft breath leaving him at your gentle touch. “Thank you, Bear. I’m so sorry that I’ve been such a mess, and there’s no other man I’d love not when I have you.” Ari stands at full height, and a squeal escapes your mouth as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you into the lounge room where everything is set up.

The moment he lies you down and holds you against him is when your eyes begin to flutter closed from his sweet woodsy scent and warmth, feeling safe and secure in the arms of the man you love and who loves you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[cyborg-franky]

PROMPT: May I please request for some yandere marco, where his zoan kinda takes over during rut season (mating season) thank you!

Marco x GN Reader N/SFW TW: Yandere - n/ncon - dark themes - monster fucking- breeding kink [no mentions of pregnancy/female body implications] don’t like don’t read Word Count: 1,600

Repost of mine from libary of ohara

He stood over you with his eyes narrowed. His smirk never left his face. The jovial chuckle escaped his lips as he loomed. His talons scratched along the wooden floor as he did so. Using one to pin you down, the sharp points dig into you painfully. Red marks appeared on your shirt where he had pierced your skin and caused you to bleed.

The fear you felt stopped all signals of pain rushing to your brain. You opened and closed your mouth as your commander pressed even harder, blood rushing out the pinpricks at a faster rate. Marco had always seemed so kind, so nice that you’d never have thought you’d have ended up as his prey.

You wished the room was pitch black to avoid seeing the ugly twisted look on his face. His tail lit up the entire room. The brilliant golden hue which gave much hope was robbing you of any grace in the situation.

“Did you think you could get away from me?” Marco asked, the condescension clear as day in his voice as he lifted off his large, clawed foot.

“Marco….”

“Now, now, don’t grovel. It should be an honour that the phoenix even wants someone as weak as you as its mate yoi.” He wrapped a claw around your ankle when you tried to shuffle back out of his grasp.

Dragging you back along the floor roughly, making it hurt more than needed. You could feel tears prick the corner of your eyes. Your body trembled as Marco let out a sigh. You hated how you seemed more like an inconvenience than anything.

“Please!”

“Please what?”

You didn’t know, you just whimpered and shook your head. The phoenix clicked his tongue before he was on you. Blue eyes stared into yours with an intensity you couldn’t withstand, you closed your eyes. You felt his hand on your throat, feeling his lips trailing up your neck.

“My perfect little mate yoi.”

His words weren’t making any sense to you, he seemed so unhinged, feral… then it clicked, he was a zoan type devil fruit, the user. His humanity had taken a backseat while his animal side had come out from hiding. You whimpered when he moved once more, his sharp claws made short work of your clothes.

Catching your skin as the fabric ripped apart, he didn’t seem concerned about the lines of red he’d created along your shivering skin as he tilted his head from one side to the other, fully admiring what was laid bare for him.

His pupils blown wide, his normally comforting lopsided smile was gone, replaced with that horrid grin as he started to remove his sash, casting it aside along with his decorative belt, you winced when you heard the metal clang on the floor.

Somehow that was the thing that fully solidified your current situation in your mind. The bell that tolled for you. Your sniffling was starting to get on his nerves and he clicked his tongue, eyes narrowed with that unwavering smirk.

“Now, now little bird, shhhh.” He cooed with fake sympathy.

You felt something snaking around your ankles, glancing down you saw the glowing tail feathers of your commander as he pinned you down, the glowing appendages spread your legs wide, letting him get settled between them.

“Oh pretty, pretty bird yoi,” Marco said with a trill, his voice taken on an inhuman quality as he rubbed his cock against your entrance, you blinked and wondered why it didn’t feel like you expected.

“Oh? Want to see what’s going to be stuffed into you, mate?”

Marco pulled away enough that you could see his cock, thick and throbbing, a tapered tip. Ridges and bumps all along the shaft. You grimaced when you saw how much precum was pooling around the slit. He chucked at your bewildered expression.

“T-that won’t fit.” You mumbled and tried to close your legs, the glowing tail snapped your legs apart further, a dull ache where your hips connected to the rest of you caused you to consider your next actions.

“That’s not the attitude that’s going to help you.” Marco sighed, nipping along your neck, teeth grazing against your skin as he once again rubbed his cock against your hole.

He was getting drunk off your scent, loving every second your musk filled his senses. This was his mate, the person he desired to be bonded with. He would have preferred a more, willing mate, but that didn’t stop him from wanting you regardless.

“Brace yourself yoi.” That was his only warning, mumbled against your neck as you felt the thinner part of his member breach your hole, pushing inside you. You grabbed his shoulders, digging nails into his skin.

Blue flicks of flames danced over the nail marks, healing him in an instant. He cooed in your ear, whispering awful, sinful things as he pushed forward, you felt each teasing bump rub against your walls. Your mouth hung open and you gasped when the zoan was fully sheathed.

“I can’t wait to fill you to the brim with my seed little bird.” He sighed, licking down your neck, along your collarbone where he started to sink his teeth, marking you as his own.

“Mar-..Marco…s..stop..” you closed your eyes as you felt his cock stuff you.

You’d never felt so full before, you felt his hips start to move, how he picked up the pace. Slow, measured but brutal, each thrust going as deep as he possibly could. Greedy lips claimed your neck, feeling Marco’s cock expand inside you was a strange feeling.

“Be good for your commander, be a good mate for me yoi.” His breath ticked your ear as his pace picked up.

Unrelenting thrusts, getting faster as he worked himself up more, as your entrance got used to his monstrous cock. He cooed and trilled, feeling at home between your thighs, your tight walls holding him snugly, warm, welcoming, and begging to be bred. At least in his bird brain, he knew deep down it wasn’t possible.

You bit your lip, not wanting to moan, but it was starting to feel good, and you felt ashamed of that fact. You couldn’t help the muffled moans he was pulling from you with every drag of his cock. You arched up, bucking to meet his thrust when he wasn’t going as fast as you’d like.

“Ah getting into it now?” you said nothing, eyes fluttering open to see him gazing down at you.

You shook your head and he laughed at your lies. His arms became wings suddenly, you were mesmerised by the glimmering blue overtaking everything. How he flapped the majestic wings of feather and flame, he didn’t even need to pin you down.

You were still helpless.

The flapping of his wings and thrusting of his hips was doing something for you. Your own head was being clouded with the growing pleasure. You whimpered and moaned when he rocked into you just right. Wings of cool flame cradle your body, adjusting you. He pulled out, only for a moment as he positioned your lower half into the air.

“Presenting like a good mate, I knew you’d be perfect.” Marco chuckled as he slipped back into you with ease this time.

Deeper, so much deeper than before. You could tell you were drooling, lips parted as your breathing got heavy. Moans escaping unchallenged now as your body adapted to the rough fucking, the way he was going to breed you.

Marco couldn’t help but feel pleased, proud of himself for claiming you as his own, his mate. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last but, oh he wanted to fill you full of cum. Fuck his seed as deep inside you as he could.

Words failed you, all you could do was whine and moan out as you could feel your shameful end rushing to meet you. The heat that thrummed through your body as he started to pound in, slowly losing his composure as he was drawing close himself.

“Cum for me pretty bird, cum for your mate yoi.” His voice was smug, you could only imagine the smirk that went with it.

You hated that his filthy words were what got you over that hill, pushing you over the other side, crying out his name, begging, pleading for him to go just a little harder which he obliged, with pleasure. That was it, feeling that tapered tip twisting and twirling in the deepest part of your passage.

Body shuddering, voice shaky you came, and you came hard. Marco chuckled, a delighted sound echoed around the room, wings flapping as he drew close to his limit. He leaned forward as far as he could, seeing your fucked out expression he came, so much hot, thick cum, an inhuman amount was pumped into you.

You felt full, and it just kept going.

When he’d emptied himself inside of you, he slipped his cock out of your abused hole. Marco chuckled and watched the thick cum leak from your body. Wings soon turned back into human arms as he scooped some of the escaped seed and stuffed it back inside.

“Don’t waste my gift to you, tsk, what an ungrateful mate I have.”

You said nothing, you could hear the cruel smile in his tone, not needing to see his smirking face as you struggled to catch your breath. His arms wrapped around your middle, his lips leaving a trail along your body.

“Did you know, most birds mate for life yoi?” His chuckle tickled your skin, the implication of his words disgusting you.

[flightlessangelwings]

"wrapping your legs around your lover's body as they lift you"

Dream of the Endless x fem!plus size!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 795

Warnings- some spice but no actual smut, Dream lifts reader, established relationship, mention of slight body insecurity but nothing descript

Notes- The first of my 4k follower drabble requests for the lovely @miraclesabound! Thank you so much this one was a lot of fun to write! I also incorperated the other prompt too just not word for word lol. Enjoy!

Taglists are closed. To stay up to date on when I post, follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

You let out a contented sigh as the warm water hit your body. The day was long and exhausting, and you wanted nothing more than to relax in a hot, steamy shower. The comforting sound of the water washed the day away as you lathered up with your favorite soap and let the smell engulf you. As far as you were concerned, the world outside your bathroom didn’t exist at all, and all the stresses from the outside were kept at bay. 

But, just as you lost yourself in the sanctuary of the shower, a cool breeze hit your skin and your eyes flew open. You let out a gasp as you grabbed your shampoo bottle, ready to throw it at whatever it was. Tense, you yanked the shower curtain aside enough so you could see what shadowy presence made itself known.

You let out a deep exhale when you realized who it was though, “Morpheus,” you breathed, “You scared the shit out of me!”

He stood in his long black coat, his hands behind his back. The stoic look on Morpheus’ face melted away as he looked at the outline of your figure from the curtain and a slight smirk graced his face, “Apologies, love.”

Suddenly, the warmth of your body came from the inside as the way his eyes devoured your curves sent a pulse of adrenaline through your veins, “Apology accepted,” you quipped back.

The sound of the shower continued as you both stared at each other. You were used to the Lord of Dream’s evening visits, but this was the first time he had caught you in the shower. And you couldn’t say that you were upset about it. Summoning your courage, your tone dropped, “You can join me… If you want…”

His eyes darted up and down your body before he let out a short laugh and chucked his jacket off. Your eyes went wide as inch by inch of his perfect, soft skin was revealed to you, and you clenched your thighs together when you saw his all black clothes puddle on the floor.

Dream stayed still for a moment before he smirked back, “I believe you are gawking, my love.”

With a gasp, you met his eyes again where instead of his usual hard expression, he looked soft… and amused. Your embarrassment quickly faded as he made his way toward the shower and pushed the curtain aside, fully exposing you and all your curves to him. Stepping into the show, Dream never took his eyes off of you.

“Now who's gawking,” you jested back.

Mischievousness gleaned behind Morpheus’ eyes as he closed the small space between your bodies and placed a hand on your chin, “I don’t hear you complaining, my beautiful love.”

You sighed as you flashed a smile to hide your nerves, “Who says I am?” No matter how many times Dream touched you, looked at you, made love to you, the nerves were always there. It was like your first time all over again, and you couldn’t have it any other way.

“I didn’t think so,” he smirked as he crashed his lips into yours.

You moaned into his mouth as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and parted your lips for him. Morpheus groaned as he backed you up against the wall and kissed you with a passion he hadn’t felt for anyone for a long time. He knew at times your body was a source of insecurity for you, and he always made it a point to make you feel like the goddess he saw you as.

With little effort at all, Morpheus grabbed your hips and lifted you off the ground, pinning you between the wall and his body as the warm water of the shower hit you both. He swallowed the yelp you let out, not wanting to break the kiss for even a moment.

Momentarily, you were disoriented, but you felt safe and secure in Morpheus’ arms. He always started you when he picked you up so easily, but you had to remind yourself that he was a supernatural being older than almost everything. But more importantly, you trusted him. So, you kept your lips connected with his as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him as close as possible. 

“Morpheus…” you whimpered as you bucked your hips against his body.

“I’ve got you my love,” he murmured in your ear as he peppers kisses along your jaw, “Allow me to take care of my beautiful lady love.”

You chuckled softly as your body tingled under his touch, “How can I say no to that?!”

Morpheus groaned as he tightened his grip on you, and he had no plans of letting go of you anytime soon…