#madness combat x male reader

[miguel-owhora]

miguel - he/him - 5 months

:3

MASTERLIST GALORE

[saltymongoose]

Hey its stitches anon...idk if your requests are open, hell I'd gladly commission you at this point. But I was wondering if you could write a small fiction about the main 4 and their lover/partner (trans man he/they) that just recently got fired from their job because they are disabled? And who is now in pain and is super sad? That just happend ot me today (2 days till my birthday too) I have HEDS, pots, and mast cell to name a few. I can't write to save my life either. And I just want my bois comforting me while trying to find a new job. Sorry you can completely ignore this

Love all of your work and u would gladly commission you with what money I have for fics too ❤️ reminders to drink water everyone

Hey Stitches Anon <3, I'm really sorry to hear about your job, that's an absolutely awful thing for them to do. :( You've probably found another place to work by now, and while I don't know very much about legality, I'd keep an eye on labor laws regarding disability where you live. (Where I'm from, firing anyone for stuff directly related to their disability is extremely illegal.) However, while I can't give much advice on this since Idk legal stuff like this that well, I can write about the boys comforting you, so I whipped these up for ya. Good luck in your professional career, my friend! :) 💕❤️💖💗(P.S. And Happy New Year!!! 🎉✨🎊)

[Part 1] They Comfort Their Disabled!Transmasc!Partner During a Jobsearch ft. The Main 3 + 2BDamned

(TW: Mentions of Violence, Brief mentions of disability-based discrimination, extreme fluff.) *A.N: I wasn't too sure about how much detail to go into with PoTS/hEDS/Mast Cell, so please lmk if I portrayed anything in this incorrectly and I'll rework it pronto. Thank you! &lt;3

- [HANK J. WIMBLETON] -

Rage and worry are the two words that best encapsulate what Hank feels once you tell him that you've gotten fired and why. Your disability didn’t prevent you from getting hired in the first place, so there’s no logical reason why it should cause your boss to fire you either. It doesn’t make any sense to him, and the fact that this whole situation is happening to you really pisses him off.

(You've seen Hank angry before, but it was never like this. He's almost shaking with rage, his hands spasming against you as he rasps out the harsh question of who was responsible for your tears and the sobs that left you. Yet you don't give their name, instead opting to press your face deeper into his collar. He goes still when you sniffle and whimper, his tense form relaxing as he presses even closer to you, pulling you tighter to him and enveloping you in his form. He'll drop the issue for now; those bastards who fired you can wait. Your well-being was always been one of his first priorities anyway.)

In typical Hank fashion, the first solution he suggests is outright murdering who fired you to get your previous job back, which makes no sense to you. (It's not like your company would be eager to hire someone whose boyfriend killed their ex-coworker). The proposition does get a small laugh out of you though, so he still considers it an achievement.

Instead of going out to commit a massacre in your name, he decides to divert all of his energy toward taking care of you and comforting you as best he can. This means he puts off all of his "official work" for as long as possible; he can tell how distraught losing this job made you, so he considers helping you to be his new mission. There’s no one that Hank ever has ever cared for more than you; you're the most special person in his life, so it’s only natural for him to put all of his focus on his role as your partner when you need the support.

Despite being wholly indifferent to the plights of Nevada's denizens, you are the only exception to his apathy, and he’ll be all over you trying to help you out during this time. He’s not the most domestic person, so he can’t take care of much on his own, but he’ll do his best to complete your normal household chores nonetheless; cleaning, taking out the trash, etc. He even cooks on rare occasions, if he thinks you shouldn't be doing it (usually because you're either too tired or in pain). You'll have to instruct him on what to do for some of these (especially cooking, he's not really experienced with that), but he'll complete every task dutifully. Hank is very good at following orders, after all.

(He straightens up when you take a bite of the food he made, his hands twitching as you give him a pleased, albeit tired smile. "It's very good," you say in response to the question you know he's aching to ask. Your eyes meet the red lenses of his goggles, and your grin widens. "Thanks, babe. You did well." He made your favorite, and although it doesn't taste exactly like how you make it, you think you prefer this version.)

Yet this is more of an afterthought compared to his main preoccupation: being by your side for as long as you'll have him, in the most literal fashion. He's almost attached to your hip the entire time, molded to your side and purring as he tugs you closer to him.

He prefers to show most of his affection through touch; hugging you softly, pressing what remains of his lips to your cheeks and forehead (and a few stray pecks on your mouth, of course), and keeping a stray hand on yours whenever you're busy looking through job listings on your tablet. He's soft and careful, always having a close eye on you for any signs of pain when he shifts closer to you, and silently noting every bruise or mark you might have in an effort to avoid irritating them. Whenever you make a noise of pain, or even if you show the smallest sign of strain, he immediately freezes, tilting his head at you in obvious worry and attempting to bring your attention to him so he can ask if you need anything.

Despite how often he gets injured, Hank doesn't know close to anything about the medical field, so he'll insist that you speak to Doc about any pain and discomfort you have due to your disabilities (who recommends you to Skinner, since he's also not a doctor either). That being said, Hank will do his best to help with alleviating anything you're going through at the same time, whether it be by fetching you your medications at a scheduled time, carrying you if you're in too much pain/too tired to walk around (or adversely, helping you exercise if you want to), or just cuddling with you if you'd prefer that. (He's constantly on the verge of being in your personal bubble anyway, so may as well.)

If anything, you'll have to tell him to stop hovering over you at times, since he's just that clingy. It's sweet that he's so concerned, but while you recognize that he's trying to show you his love the best way he can, it can be a bit smothering at times. (Like when you're trying to read out available positions and he sees fit to carefully drape himself over your back, purring like a large cat. It's nice, until he ends up obscuring the view of what you're doing.)

He'll cooperate of course, since he respects your boundaries as any partner should, but he will put in an effort to be more verbal after this to make up for it. His voice is very rough from disuse, and his wording can be a bit clunky when he compliments you, but the blunt praise you get from him still makes you blush. It's probably because you know for a fact that everything he says is what he honestly believes, which just makes it a hundred times more meaningful.

(Your face burned with each subsequent word about how proud of you he was, and the short declarations he gave of how much he admired you and your strength. Hearing such words from someone as powerful as him made them very impactful, although this also just made you more bashful to receive them. 

"Thank you…you didn't have to say anything like that, hun. It’s very sweet of you," you said before laughing a bit awkwardly. Perhaps it was in your nature to try to skirt around compliments, or at least those that were so direct and blunt, but that would never work with Hank. He never wasted his breath on lies or things he didn’t feel important to put out there, it just isn’t how he works. He states things like they’re facts because they are. He’s proud of you, you’re strong, you’re handsome, etc. He could go on. And he will.

He looked at you for a moment before shrugging. “...Doesn’t matter if I need to say it. It’s still true.” In Hank's view, if he has to strain his voice just to show you the level of affection you rightfully deserve, that’s more than alright. He speaks only when necessary, and bringing your mood up at a time like this makes it so. Besides, he’d much rather use his words to compliment you than for anything else, really.)

However, when it comes to actually helping you get another job, he isn’t can't do all that much. It’s not his fault; Hank hasn’t had a “normal” job in a very long time, so his ideas on how to find one are very out of date. Nevada’s not exactly in the same state it was when he was employed in a traditional setting, and the rubble that makes up most of the cities still around wouldn’t be very useful for real estate. (Which is the only thing he has concrete experience in. Besides homicide.)

The most he can do is keep an eye out for any “help wanted” signs and writing down the locations of the places he finds them. He’ll also ask Deimos, Sanford, and Doc to look into potential job openings. (Well, demand they do. Luckily some explanation by Doc about how Hank's boyfriend was fired was enough to remedy any protest. It's weirdly nice of the merc to be so concerned about someone else. Barring the surprise of him even having a boyfriend to begin with, since he'd never said a word about you to them before.)

2BDamned is also surprisingly okay with just letting his main agent take some time off to help his significant other while they look for a job. However, Doc realizes better than anyone that if he attempted to keep Hank from you in a time like this, he'd just leave anyway (and violently), so there's little point in even trying. He's the most clued in out of everyone about Hank's personal life and has enough sense to know about your importance to him. (Why else would Hank be asking about "date ideas" and engagement rings, of all things?)

He wonders sometimes if you realize just how much you've got the tall grunt wrapped around your finger. Though, judging by how Doc can hear you brighten up and playfully admonish Hank when he accidentally interrupts your calls with him (and the fact that he can hear the man purring loudly over the phone after you call him a pet name), you must have a pretty good idea by now.

- [2BDAMNED] -

2BDamned likely didn’t approve of you working at your previous job to begin with, as it was too far from the Status Quo’s base of operations for him to keep an eye on you at all times (and being with him did put a considerable target on your back, no matter how secret you tried to keep your relationship). However, he was wholly displeased when you tearfully revealed to him that you’d been fired for something you had absolutely no control over.

Both the sheer audacity and the stupidity of the company you worked for are incredibly surprising to him. He'll make a quick note to find out where your previous workplace is located; he won't do anything to ruin them, as much as he has the power to, but if some of his agents in the location accidentally do anything to hurt their business, he's not going to offer anything close to assistance. (Although the agents might get a soft reprimand - it's hard to be mad at them for this, even if he really should be.) It's petty, but also far more than he knows they have a right to.

However, in the meantime, he'll focus on comforting you while you find another job, seeing as interfering with your previous workplace is beneath his consideration. (Unless you ask him to, of course. He's always frowned upon people who couldn't separate their work from their personal lives, but he could handle the hypocrisy if using his resources for this made you happy. After seeing how they made you cry, he thinks it would be at least somewhat deserved.)

Doc's a busy man, but he'll always have time for you. Luckily for him, he's not exactly needed at any bases, and his work has him moving around quite a bit as is, so staying at your place to help you won't cause any issues. It’s not like anyone would notice his absence. Although, he'd be willing to forgo his current assignments regardless; you're more important, to put it simply.

He's well versed in your medical conditions already, due to hours of research and speaking with both you and Skinner, no doubt. Even before you were fired, he'd have been there to help you should you need it (even if a phone call away), and there's no reason why this would change after the fact. He's always been reliable, and just like back then, he'll be there to give you exactly what you need to keep yourself comfortable. This also includes himself, if you so ask.

You'll often find yourself with your head resting in his lap, feeling his eyes rake over you once in a while to look for any signs of pain and discomfort. (To anyone else, it would feel cold or clinical, but something about Doc's gaze always warms when it's placed on you.) His voice loses its harsh edge when he reads your listings, occasionally nudging you against contacting them for an interview if the company in question gives pay that's too low or lacks the benefits he knows you deserve.

("That last one sounds alright," you muttered, and he paused from reading his tablet to give you a look of slight disapproval. You raised a brow as if to ask what the problem was and he sighed.

"Honey, they don't have dental or offer basic health insurance - and the salary is half of what you should be making," he responded pointedly, to which you laughed. This was Nevada, it's not like that was common anyway, and most businesses couldn’t afford very good pay rates at that. Yet the fact that your boyfriend was so concerned about where you'd end up working was so funny to you for some reason. The leader of one of Nevada’s greatest forces fretting about your hourly wages. Perhaps it was because it was so weirdly domestic; you didn’t get a lot of time with him considering his work schedule, so to have him drop everything just to do something so normal was actually surprising to you. It seems you underestimated just how much you meant to him. Which you know he’d chide you for if he could read your mind. Of course he would do that, he loves you.)

(You didn’t notice how he stopped reading yet again, gazing at you warmly as you drifted off in thought. For a moment he wondered if it would be better to have you work for him, where he could keep an eye on you and give you the opportunities you’d already worked for. However, he knew he couldn’t stomach you being in danger because of it, and decided against doing so. Though he’s still going to vet who you’re looking to work for, that’s a given.)

Doc’s actually rather quick to begin assisting you with lining up interviews; he’s the type of person who tries to get rid of the emotional weight of problems by solving them as soon as he can, and so he tries to do the same here. However, he’s not tone-deaf; he’s not going to immediately push it on you if you’re in need of comfort after just being fired.

There are very few people that 2BDamned can say he genuinely cares about, and you're the most important of those individuals by far. This shows in how he softens his voice around you, the sweet pet names that are reserved only for you, and the tender way he kisses you whenever he removes his mask. His gestures only increase here, when he knows you need his comfort more than ever.

He's never been the most physical in how he shows his affection (it's something he's had to ease himself in to with your relationship), but that gets thrown out the window for the most part. While he won't be cuddling you whenever you're together, you can expect to be seated in his lap with one of his arms thrown around your waist to keep you close while you both go through your work (you looking for some and him reading reports). He treats it like a casual thing, and he's found that having you near him like this brings him more peace of mind.

(The slight smile he can see tug at the corners of your lips when you feel the warmth of his form against yours is the main benefit though. Although the weariness in your eyes from what happened still hasn't faded away, you're certainly feeling better than before. Your gaze flickers upward to meet his, and he feels a purr building up when you give him a look of unbridled affection.)

While Doc is aware that he can't remove your pain or completely prevent all of your disabilities' more disruptive symptoms from happening, his main goal is to make sure you aren't having to deal with them as often as possible. If there's anything he can do, from finding special types of medication that help you the most (which is likely in short supply due to how Nevada is) to setting up schedules so you avoid getting exhausted, he’ll get it done immediately and without question. It’s his goal to make it so you’ll never feel embarrassed or ashamed to ask for his help with anything (medical-related or otherwise), and you don’t.

Furthermore, Doc’s not a medical specialist per se, but he also took some “classes” from Skinner on how to treat the more major symptoms you might experience. Case in point, those unfortunate times you dislocated some of your joints, and he resets them for you, or when he eases you into a better position to recover if you happen to faint from your blood pressure dropping too quickly.

(He’s been arms deep in people’s intestines and gore before to put them back together, and done so with relative nonchalance, but seeing you in pain makes him almost queasy by comparison. The point that brings him back to focus is his central goal; minimizing your pain and discomfort, which means taking care of your state swiftly.)

2BDamned is someone who respects your independence. You're capable of taking care of yourself, as you usually do when he's not there. However, in a situation like this one, where you need him, he'll always be there. You're Doc's partner (soon fiance, perhaps), and he's yours; he'll always be there for you to lean on, just like you've been there to comfort him and bring him out of his shell.

It doesn't matter what you're going through, or how things on the outside are. If Nevada as you both knew it was going to end without him, he might just let it, as long as you'd be safe and well. If this means letting go of his usually-busy schedule to take care of the one he loves when they lose their job (and for their disabilities, which he'll still remain angry at no matter how much time passes), then it's something he'll go along with happily. In 2BDamned's eyes, you deserve far more than he can give you, so the only logical thing he can do is give you all that he is with the hopes that it's enough. This is just an incredibly small instance of him showing this immense love he has for you (one that's returned tenfold).

He hopes to make you as happy as you make him, and if the warm, affectionate looks you share, with soft smiles and hands intertwined, mean anything, then he does. And that is enough for him.

[enterrandomname]

Welcome Gn and Male Readers!

Hello there! You may call me Morris. Before making a request, please make sure you had read below. And I do apologize for the grammar.

Fandoms:

Hannibal

Pokemon

The Hunger Games

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Madness Combat

Star Wars

Good Omens

Black Butler

Wii Deleted You

Obey Me

FNF

BATIM

The Arcana

The Hunchback of Notre-Dame

and more…

I will Write:

Platonic

Fluff

Romantic

Headcanons

Gender Neutral Reader

Male Reader

And more that is not labelled underneath..

I will NOT Write:

Rape

Incest

Pedophilia

[huntersafeplace]

This is a writing blog based on Madness Combat x Reader or Character x character

For now I (hunter) is looking to write your requests and other X reader content for all of you!

But as is with all things, we have to set some rules to keep things comfortable for readers and writers alike.

What I will write:

Gender neutral readers

Headcanons

Fluff & angst

Gore (some violence)

NSFW a.k.a. Smut (with kinks)

Character x Character

What I WON’T write:

Some kinks (Piss, shit, feet ect)

R@p3 (sexual assult)

I don’t usually write threesomes or stuff like that.

Underaged X mc 

Anything that makes me feel uncomfortable lol

[starryficsfinishwen]

close to you — m!rover x f!reader

soft, gentle, delicate—such was your touch on dark feathers.

lithe fingers grazing the feathers below, making him shiver from your electrifying touch. it seemed to echo from his wings down to the tips of his toes.

“you're quite sensitive,” you noted, “...does it distract you, rover?”

fluttering his eyes open, golden irises found themselves looking at you.

“...no,” he softly muttered, “please, don't mind me.”

it was only a simple check up. after the fiasco with the awakened threnodian, every citizen of jinzhou were relieved to find the two great heroes emerge alive from the lion's den. a checkup with your patient was long overdue since.

it was purely professional at first, really. it was what your job asked you to do anyway. you quickly dove into your usual checking his vitals, checking for any injuries underneath.

all was well, until you asked the rover to take off his top.

“is this normal?” you said, watching the noticeable scar on his back. you pulled the mirror closer to you, so that the rover could see the identical mirror reflect what you meant to point out.

“ah...I don't know...” sheepishly scratching the back of his neck, the rover sighed, “I have never seen that before. is it bad?”

“no,” you hummed, reaching out to touch it, “do you mind if I examine you further, rover?”

his breath hitched when your fingers gently traced the line on his back. with a small nod, you mapped out your examination. apart from that, there were a few more scratches, both fresh and old ones, littered across his back. tenderly tracing the fresh ones, you could feel him wince from your touches.

“does it hurt?” you asked, voice now soft as you sat on the examination table, body quite brushing his, “please tell me if I make you uncomfortable, rover.”

but you heard nothing from him, apart from his shallow breathing. when your fingers now brushed the large scar, the make couldn't help but hold his breath.

“did...the threnodian hurt you here?” you quietly asked, “I see no blood, yet I'm afraid that it might hurt you.”

“that's, ah,” what would the rover say? “...it doesn't.”

“really? are you sure? I could patch this up for you if you want—”

“it's fine, really.” the rover sighed, “they're my...wings.”

the rover must have think he's mad, telling it to a logical person like you. except he doesn't know, knowing you, you've heard too many bullshit from ridiculous patients, that none would faze you anymore.

“oh,” you shrugged, “okay.”

“I can show it to you...maybe?”

“it's okay.”

“I insist. so that I can really tell you that it doesn't hurt.”

“it's okay, I be—”

but the male rover didn't hear you. by the time you blinked, a large, dark feathered-wing came out from the scar. oh, you've heard too many bullshit from patients. but it's the first time you've seen it in person.

“...ah,” the rover mentally scolded himself, “s-sorry...it must have scared you.”

“you have...wings.”

“I do...they usually show up only when I'm fighting so...” looking back at your shocked expression, the rover smiled at you, “you're the first to see it without being in combat.”

is it adoration? the roger could see it in your face through the mirror. the way your mouth was agape, sparkling eyes fixated on the slow flutter of his wings. the rover, somehow feeling embarrassed, was ready to hide them again, when you placed your hand near the base of his wing.

“wait,” you sucked in a breath, never looking away, “can I...can I touch your wing?”

like a child, completely enthralled with the new discovery in front of them. as soon as the rover gave his consent, your fingers found themselves touching the feathers underneath.

those wings only knew chaos and disorder. it knew how to hack and slash its way to assist its owner against the tacet discords, or against any other enemy. but it was the first time the rover knew kindness, from the way you tenderly touched its feathers, from down below to the tips. he couldn't help but breathe deeply, trying to control his labored breathing.

“your wings are so sensitive,” you giggled, “it's almost in contrast to your persona in battle.”

you looked back at golden eyes staring at you. with a sheepish smile, you added, “sorry, you must've disliked it. I just couldn't help...it's the first time I've seen something so pretty.”

the rover couldn't help but sigh in content. to say that he disliked it was a lie—he liked it. he liked your gentle fingers on his sensitive wings, tenderly caressing them like cotton, tenderly conveying your hidden emotions, ones that his wings somehow could detect—

“you think...it's pretty?” the rover asked, flabbergasted.

“o-of course!” you exclaimed, a faint pink tinting your cheeks, “rover, you are so pretty.”

oops. so it was true—the blush on your cheeks a deeper shade. “I-I mean, your wings, they're, um...really...pretty.”

did he ever find you this cute before? turning to face you, a gracious smile on his lips, his wing pointed to you.

“you can touch them more, doctor.” he said, a hand out for you, “I'll allow you.”

only a fool would miss the giddy smile on your face. with one hand outstretched to touch the rover's wing, the man didn't miss the chance to hold your other free hand. you did miss, when he placed your hand on his cheek, leaning onto the warmth of your hand.

yes, it was warm. it was soft, gentle, and kind—you, who were growing affectionate; you, who treated him in kind. you only noticed the gesture when his cheeks reflected your own, warmth heating your palm.

and it was incredibly intimate, that the rover couldn't help but mirror your affection as well.

“doctor [y/n], do you perhaps know the medication to what I'm feeling for you right now?”

m!rover is so babygirl I might write about him one of these days

— starry

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober- Day 14 (Marking)

Guts x Male!reader drabble

Sequel post

Guts found himself intrigued by your presence.

You were no warrior; your nature was one of kindness and gentleness.

Recalling that day when the Skull Knight rescued him and Casca, Guts couldn't forget the image of you, clutching tightly to the enigmatic knight, your eyes firmly shut. You had arrived with the mysterious knight, seemingly playing no direct role in the battle, yet offering moral support. It was evident that you had never wielded a weapon in your life.

But, despite your non-combatant nature, you had a strange ability that disrupted the boundary between this world and the Astral World.

Guts found this out the night you had begun to travel with them. You offered no explanation as to why you left the safety of your Knightly guard to travel with him. You were stubborn and there was no changing your mind. Guts was certain you would die once night came. But to his surprise, the monsters that hunted him each night seemed disgusted by your presence, causing them to maintain a safe distance.

For the first time in a while, Guts was able to relax during the night. It didn't take long before Guts found himself further enamored by you.

Honestly, you had done it out of kindness, but maybe you shouldn't have poked the dragon. You simply wanted to know if your abilities could remove his brand mark.

They can't.

But it helped dull the pain when evil spirits were around, causing the brand to bleed and writhe with agony. Especially when you kiss it. You figured that one out by catching Guts off guard while he was undressed, much to his embarrassment. You just wanted to be helpful.

Guts was not amused. And as he pinned you to the cold ground, you wondered if maybe you pushed him too far.

It was only when you felt Guts's mouth pressed against your throat, that you realized maybe he wasn't mad at you.

Feeling Guts's hot breath on your skin sent chills running down your spine. As he began to suckle on your delicate flesh, a low moan escaped your lips. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, drawing him closer.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest, making you aware of just how close Guts truly was—his powerful body pressing down upon yours, his scent filling your nostrils, and his eye boring into yours with raw intensity.

You felt yourself growing flushed underneath Guts's intense gaze. Unable to bear the weight of his gaze any longer, you lowered your eyes, focusing instead on the night sky.

Without warning, however, Guts cupped your jaw firmly between two calloused fingers, forcing you to meet his fierce gaze once more. Then, before either of you had time to think twice about it, he leaned forward and claimed your lips with his own.

The kiss started out tentative—a mere brush of lips against each other. But soon enough, Guts deepened the connection, slipping his tongue into your mouth to explore its depths while occasionally using his teeth to nip playfully at your bottom lip.

Guts suddenly pulls away from you. Feeling his lips leave yours brought an unexpected wave of disappointment crashing over you. But it didn't last long, for he quickly moved on to kiss your neck once more.

"Does that skull fucker ever enjoy you like this?" Guts mutters darkly between kisses, referring to Skull Knight, whom you seem close with. His hand slithers behind your back and grabs a handful of your ass.

Somehow, amidst the stimulation, you managed to find your voice. "N-No..." you muttered, embarrassingly breathless. "Never."

At those words, Guts releases a primal growl of satisfaction as he begins to kiss your neck more feverishly.

Guts pressed his open mouth to your pulsing veins, suckling gently at first before applying more pressure. You let out a loud moan as you cling to his head, pulling him closer to your neck. The sight of your submission drove him wild, and he couldn't help but groan loudly as he continued ravishing your throat.

"Mine," Guts growled between kisses, his voice thick with desire. "Only mine now."

Each word was punctuated by another hungry kiss, each touch more desperate than the last. Each word echoed inside your head, causing you to arch your back in response to his dominance.

Each successive kiss left behind a swollen reminder of Guts's possession. Soon, purple marks covered your neck, shoulder, and chest—all bearing witness to the claim he had over you.

How the hell were you going to explain this to Skull Knight?

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

[miguel-owhora]

its 4 am, almost 5, but i got hit with a vision: tricky would absolutely have public sex with you :3 he does not give a singular fuck if someone is watching, he can and will whip out your dick and ride it until his pussy is overflowing with cum !!!! if anything he gets turned on by others either uncomfortably watching or idk being turned on by it lol

and well, you don't really have to worry about anything when your boyfriend is a psychotic clown, right? mm probably.

anyways, tricky'll also give you head and it's a little scary with his sharp teeth and all, but you trust him not to bite you... will, dick wise. any other part of your body is free game. besides, why would he bite your dick and risk biting it off if he absolutely loves it when you pin him down and fucking breed him for everything he's worth? pinning his legs to his chest, paws up in the air and your silly boyfriend squealing without shame, babbling incoherent praises and begs for more, his pussy puffy and swollen and leaking with cum, your cock molding itself inside his gummy walls.....

[saltymongoose]

Alright, the second part's finally here! As with the previous part, just lmk if there's anything here that needs to be changed and I'll get right on it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it! :) <3

[Part 2] They Comfort Their Disabled!Transmasc!Partner During a Jobsearch ft. The Main 3 + 2BDamned

(TW: Mentions of Violence, Brief mentions of disability-based discrimination, extreme fluff.) [Part 1]

- [DEIMOS] -

“They fucking what-”

If you weren’t so disappointed, you’d almost consider Deimos’ level of outrage at your firing comical. He seemed like he was minutes away from going to your previous workplace himself to start something. He was so agitated, pacing around the room and even shifting in your embrace as he comforted you, his hands flexing against you and his knee bouncing restlessly.

He still has an angry pout on his face even as he cuddles you, muttering compliments to you and scathing insults to the people you used to work for. He’ll dial it down if you want, but his irritation at this still remains palpable. In fact, even after the initial day when you told him what happened he wouldn't drop the issue, going as far as bringing it up a few times to see if you changed your mind about him doing anything to retaliate for you.

(The first time it happened was just a day afterward when you'd decided to take a break from researching jobs with him. Deimos stole your attention from the show you'd just started by grasping both of your hands in his, to which you looked at him with slight confusion. He gave you a slightly crooked smile.

“I know we've been over it, but baby...are you sure you don’t want me to go take care of those pricks? It won't take that long, and I won't even do anything that bad, I swear." You scoffed. Yeah, like you'd trust the word of your boyfriend, a wanted murderer and notorious menace to society, not to do anything drastic after that show he put on yesterday. Although, that's not to say it wasn’t tempting. Especially with how Deimos was looking at you like he was about to beg you to let him do it. Unfortunately, though, you knew that it was more trouble than it was worth.

"Um.. no, hon...as much as I'd like that, I think that's going too far like we said before. But thank you, I appreciate that you'd do that. I love you." You cooed the last words out sweetly and accompanied them with a swift peck to the cheek, leaving Deimos grinning with pink-stained cheeks.)

In terms of actual comfort though, Deimos' MO tends to be a mixture of two things: distraction and physical touch, all blanketed with the same warm affection he's given you throughout your relationship. He knows you're busy with finding a job, but he's the one who convinces you to stop and take a breather from it to do something with him instead. Sometimes he'll even volunteer to read off the listings to you himself just so you can rest your eyes for a bit.

(He also makes fun of the listings that are more outlandish. A retail job for half of what he'd make at the Agency, and detailed with a complaint about how "ungrateful" the previous employee was for the opportunity? Excellent; prime material to use to make you laugh.)

While Deimos has always been very touchy around you, in this case it's heightened by a hundred; he always seems to be contacting you in some way, whether it be pressing your thighs together when you sit with him or covering your face with kisses in an effort to make you giggle. He just loves being close to you, and basking in the light of your grin and the love you have for him.

You won't notice it, but he also uses this closeness as an opportunity to look you over for any signs of exhaustion or pain. No matter how much you might try to "suck it up" or hide it, you won't be able to. Not around him. He's far too observant to miss it; those subtle signs of tiredness in your eyes and the sudden shifts in your posture whenever a wave of pain echoes through you are just a few of the tells he's attuned to catch.

He'll do all he can to get you what you need to manage your symptoms (including some medicine that Skinner recommended since he spoke to him about this before). He's surprisingly strong too, so if you want him to carry you anywhere because you're fatigued, all you need to do is ask. (Sometimes he'll also do it without any prompting too since he seems to have a sixth sense for when you'd like it. Luckily he has enough foresight to ensure you aren't holding anything fragile when he suddenly picks you up.)

Deimos' pyrokinesis makes him incredibly warm, and all the better to cuddle with whenever you're in pain. It's cozy, with his purrs and raspy whispers filling your ears as he rambles on about this and that, and his hands rub small circles over your skin when you press your face further into the curve of his neck.

(You smile against him when he presses a quick peck to your forehead, and you can practically feel his purring grow louder as a result. The soothing vibrations pick up and you can feel sleep beginning to tug at your eyelids. Your pain isn't completely gone, but having him so close and holding you tightly to him is so soothing that it becomes easier to get through.)

As for your job search itself, Deimos will volunteer to write up a program or two for you to "filter" out the less desirable offers you find, and to look for those you'd prefer. He has more than enough time to do so (thanks to Doc's generous offer of PTO), and he figures that the knowledge he has regarding tech would be best used to help you.

He's also asked if you want him to request (beg) 2BDamned to find a place for you in the SQ. It's an organization of mercenaries, but surely they could have a need for your skillset somewhere, right?

(You know that part of it is because Deimos wants to spend more time with you, since his job keeps you both apart most of the time. It's a topic that he brings up a lot, and although he makes his complaints humorous and words them as jokes, you can tell that it really bothers him. Then again, why wouldn't it? He absolutely adores you, and wanting to spend more time with his boyfriend is normal - especially in a place as dangerous as Nevada. It's just a shame that such domestic moments are very uncommon.)

Despite the unfortunate circumstances that brought Deimos home to you, he'd consider this break he takes to be well worth it. He's always loved spending time with you, and it's especially important that he does so when you need comfort. While he can't enact any ideas of revenge against your previous employers (as much as he'd love to), he'll use all of his energy to help you feel better instead.

You'll always know of Deimos' love for you through his actions and the words he speaks to you, although he can only hope that you understand the true depth of it. There's only so much he can convey through that alone, but he thinks that it's at least a small way to prove just how much he loves you. He's made it clear time and time again that he'll be there to support you, no matter what that entails. In a way, it sort of reminds him of a few of those famous words he's made a plan to say to you in the future - something with "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer” and “in sickness and in health." Perhaps he’d have to do some research on jewelry stores after this is through.

- [SANFORD] -

Sanford’s initial reaction to your firing is burning anger, but also one that’s tempered by his need to comfort you in the wake of such an awful situation. He isn’t as impulsive as some others, and he recognizes that helping you is the main thing he should be focusing on at the moment.

He doesn’t say very much, other than the short praises and sweet nothings he might whisper while you bury yourself in his arms, pressing your face against his neck to muffle your cries. He listens to you when you vent about what happened, the frown on his face deepening with every word of how cruel your employer was and why they had the audacity to fire you.

When you trail off after ranting, he'll use the moment to praise and reassure you of how excellent of a person he knows you are and just how much you mean to him, gently wiping the tears from your cheek with his thumb as he looks you in the eye. His voice is low and thick with emotion, and he knows that if he dwells on his thoughts for too long he might get too emotional - but you just mean so much to him, and you need to know it now more than ever. That you're worth far more than your previous employer could ever know, and that they took you for granted for foolish reasons. He wants you to know just how foolish they were, and how wonderful you are in reality. 

("You...you really mean that?" You asked, and Sanford felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest once he saw the way your eyes glistened.

He nodded resolutely. "Every word." He knows you might not completely believe him, but that was alright. He'd repeat it to you as many times as he needed, if only so you could get a glimpse of how he viewed you; how you deserved to be seen. You’re the love of his life; the person he adores above all else, and he could spend near infinite hours pointing out every single little detail that he loves about you, from the way your nose crinkles up when you laugh to the way light reflects in your eyes. He only wishes he had all the time in the world to tell them to you.)

These little talks are frequent in this period, when you spend your time looking for a job while he takes care of more menial things on the other side. Though most of the time you eventually end up cuddled close together, with him keeping one of his arms around your shoulders while his other hand clasps your hip. You rest your head on his shoulder as you converse, with him keeping a watchful eye on you for any discomfort and pain while you try to find the words to express your thoughts.

It's never hard for you two to speak to each other like this, as you're completely open with each other, and being so close like this just makes it easier to spill talk. It's probably because cuddling with your boyfriend means that all of your senses are filled with everything distinctly him, from his scent to the sound of his voice and the warmth of his body; it's the most comfortable you think you've ever been. You feel safe with Sanford, and you know that nothing you could possibly do would push him away. It makes his comforting gestures all the more impactful for you, and it's easy to accept any help from him.

(However, his focus on comforting you doesn’t mean he’ll just let what happened go, mind you. He doesn’t care about your ex-employer enough to go through the effort of destroying them himself; they don’t deserve the time necessary to do that. Although, if a swarm of Zeds was seen frequenting their area, or the bandits get further into the city in that sector, then he’ll find an excuse not to help them if asked. Sanford is usually nicer than most other mercs, but he still isn’t a “good” man. Sympathy from him ends where any mistreatment of his partner begins, no matter how dire the consequences to other people are. Besides, dire is what they deserve here.)

Sanford has always been an attentive boyfriend; even before you got fired, he’d made it clear that he would always be there to help you out with anything you need. Now that you’re busy looking for a job, this simply means that instead of cooking for you every once in a while (in other words, when he was finally back from his missions), he’d do so every day. It means going out to fulfill minor errands and cleaning, doing laundry, etc. He essentially plays house husband so that you can handle your own business, and he does so without even letting you know he’s made it part of his routine.

(Every so often, you’ll look up from the paperwork and resumes you’ll be working on with the realization that there’s something else you should be doing; dishes to be washed, trash to take out, laundry to put in, only to take a few steps to find nothing there and the task already completed. The small, knowing grin that Sanford tries to hide is enough of an answer as to what happened.)

You shouldn’t feel guilty about this either, he’s doing this just because he wants to assist you this way. This is the same regarding your disabilities as well; if you need anything, no matter how trivial you might consider it, he’d do it for you. Any amount of effort is worth it as long as it keeps you comfortable and happy.

He’ll get you your medication without any fuss or complaint (no matter how far he has to go to retrieve it), and he’ll also schedule any appointments with your doctor if you need him to. He’s also spoken to both 2BDamned and Skinner to get any medical advice that could help you, more so the latter because of his knowledge of such things. However, if you need someone more specialized, he’ll ask Doc to do some networking and find someone to help if necessary.

(Speaking of 2BDamned, Sanford also asked him for some more time off so he could be around to assist you for longer, which the man was quick to give. Sanford might not be the most open about his personal life, but being around him has allowed Doc to glean quite a lot about his love for you. 2B is not very sentimental, but he knows that you both deserve to be together at this time. That and the fact that Doc can see how Sanford brightens up whenever you’re a topic in conversation shows him that the grunt’s affection for you far surpasses whatever drive he has for job at the time anyway. He has no reason to keep your boyfriend from you, so he won't, and he even asks Sanford to give you his good wishes before he departs.)

If you take a look at one of the small notebooks Sanford keeps, you’d find a general list of reminders for himself that includes the aforementioned medical information, in addition to the new “chores” he does for you. Even if he can’t remember the specifics off of the top of his head (as is the case with some of the more complex details like the exact milligrams of medications you take and where to get them in an emergency), it’s still important to him, so he writes it down just in case. You might think of it as incredibly thoughtful if you ever found out, but he’d just consider it part of the basic responsibilities of being a boyfriend.

(Although he’d split things up again if you ask, he hopes you know that he can do whatever you need him to so you can focus on your career. (Which you definitely do by now, no question about it.) You need some time to find another place to work, so he’ll carve it out for you in whatever way possible.)

As for helping you find a job, he’ll ask around the SQ for any news of good places to work, and he does find out quite a lot from 2BDamned's other field agents who frequent other places. While some of it can’t be that applicable to you, depending on your chosen profession, you accept all the news with a smile and a few words of gratitude (perhaps even a kiss to Sanford’s cheek, if you really want to fluster him with your thanks).

He's even asked you if you wanted him to find you a place within the SQ, though he'd ensure it's an administrative/clerical job first since he can't stomach the thought of you being in danger. Additionally, if you want him to look for something more specific, all you need to do is ask, and he'd be more than happy to go along with it.

(You'd also notice that all of the offers he brings up to you pay far more than you were making previously, and are in far safer places than those he's acquainted with. Sanford might long to be close to you so you can be together more often, but he isn't stupid; being near his division in the SQ means being closer to potential conflict with the AAHW and his organization’s other enemies, and he refuses to put you in that situation. You already have enough on your plate with this, and he'd rather take the worry of distance than almost-definite danger.)

Sanford seeks to provide you with whatever you need, no matter what it is. He wants to prove his reliability to you, so you know that you always have him in your corner, ready to support you at all costs. You're his boyfriend (and perhaps you'll even be more than that someday); you deserve someone that can give you the world. While Sanford knows that the state of Nevada is uncertain, one of the only things that he knows will always stay the same is the overwhelming amount of love he holds for you.

He'll always be yours, just as you're his. Regardless of what you both go through in the future, he'll make sure that he's always there to help you because that's what love means to him. It's security and comfort, and the knowledge that the other person is always going to be a safe haven for you. It's something he's never really spoken about with you, but you've always understood it deep down. It's shown in how he takes care of you, and how there's always an intrinsic feeling of trust with him. In situations like this one, where you need help while getting back on your feet, so to speak, it only becomes more evident. Sanford’s always felt like you represent home to him, and with how he insists on showing his love for you in any way he can, and how you share the deep feelings of love he holds for you, you’d say the same about him.

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 16}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorain x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: Three planets allow for you to make good memories with your newly establish clan. And one that rips it all away.

Word Count: 10.5k

Warnings: reader has an official name used for plot points, nicknames and pet names(all in Mando'a), canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical fighting and conflict, star wars and basic swear words (we use them like sprinkles here), mando'a language, mentions of self-harm scars, angst, emotional conversations, confessions, unwanted advances, creepy guys being creepy guys, fighting, threatening language, attempted kidnapping, stalking, fleeing from officers, resisting arrest, reader and din are wanted criminals y'all, sexual content, adult content, description of the male body (ahem), slight body worship, fingering, oral (m receiving), feelings, so many feelings, argumentative language, miscommunication, perceived rejection, fear of intimacy, abandonment trauma, sa trauma, ptsd trauma,. if i missed any please let me know and i'll add them!

A/N: a huge thank you to everyone who participated in this poll to theorize what the next arc holds in store for your lil clan! from here on out, the next 3-5 (ish chapters) will be an all-original arc. this one ends...um, yeah, please don't me mad at me, it's all for a good reason *literally runs away after posting and hides under her bed covers

ao3 || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

‘Your eyes were heavy with sleep, the bunk dark in the late hour of the day. You roused yourself from the blankets at the sounds of chatter outside the door of your shared room. You were feeling trembles in the Force, which had jolted you awake despite your body demanding to rest for longer. Your mind was foggy as you pulled on your tan coat over your simple black attire of a loose shirt and slim pants, the soles of your boots silent on the floor as you padded carefully to the door. You didn’t recognize the voices, but you were sure there were plenty of individuals you hadn’t had the chance to meet yet. You had only been here in the city for a few years, having been found to be in touch with the Force at the age of five, your mother sending you off with the nice man who had kept watching you while you helped to sell baked goods and local harvest back on K’ath.

You had been idly moving seashells about the stall, garnering the attention of a few Jedi visiting there on business and the course of your life was determined from there.

The sound of blasters, of gunfire, of explosions and the combatant sounds of light sabers was a cacophony of noise the closer you got to the door. Shouts and orders were being yelled, and it spiked anxiety in you. You quickly backed from the door and gathered your pack you had brought with you all those years ago. You shoved a second set of clothes, your pouch of credits you used sparingly, and the photo of your mother you had kept underneath your pillow. You had just received your official saber after spending the last week mining your crystal, when it was announced that you were to become a padawan come the end of the month, waiting for your assignment and master for training.’

The city was crowded, people rushing all around, running from the Temple and the surrounding gardens, outdoor training areas, and meditation spaces. It was loud, the sound of blasters and shouting a  roar in your ears as you tried to hide wherever you could squeeze yourself into, rushing off in sprints the second the coast was clear. Reaching up for the communication cuff you had stolen off of one of the dead bodies in the hall, you scrambled to punch in the chain code given to you back on your home planet.

It was silent as you requested a call, hope plummeting as it dropped. Once. Twice, three times.

But then it pinged, far too loudly and you heard a shout to search the gardens.

“How did you get this contact?” His voice sounded exactly the same and you thanked the Maker you had remembered his code correctly. He was your only hope, he was the only person you knew outside of those whose bodies you had seen laying all over the Temple. Taking a breath, you tried to talk as clearly as you could, brain scrambling to remember how the grammar worked for his language.

“Nuhunla jag, bic's ni.  Teh K'ath. Te kih beskar'gam adiik. Ni linibar gar gaa'tayl, gedet’ye.”

Funny man, it’s me. From K’ath. The little armor girl. I need your help, please.’

The ship was silent.

Din was seated at the makeshift table in the hold space, helmet placed on the top of it, amid the open med pack. Bandages and bacta spray cannisters spread out before him. He had finally managed to rid himself of the throbbing headache that had grown since yesterday. He had tended to you first, after getting the ship back on route, running at half power due to the engine you had blown in the wake of your emotional outburst. It was set on course toward a mid-rim planet where he could get the engine repaired. Toward Tatooine.

The door to his personal quarters was cracked open, allowing for the hush of blankets shifting to whisper out into the open space he occupied. Soft padding of your bare feet on the floor urged him into a too fast motion to reach for his helmet. But his body complained about the reach, head throbbing harshly despite the application of bacta he had just finished on his tender head. The back of it was sensitive to the touch, thick scab underneath his gently probing fingers.

“Wait.” He called out, hoping you could hear him as he gasped it out.

All movement on the other side of the door stopped. You would’ve listened to him even if he wasn’t about to announce that he was without his helmet. But he decided to be honest with you, to take the opportunity to bear his injuries with humility rather than hubris. To admit that he wasn’t well.

“My helmet, I removed it to tend to my injury.”

“I…don’t think I can put it back on just yet. Too painful.”

“…okay.”

“Do you need to…use the fresher?”

“No, I just…I was going to look for you. To…apologize.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“I yelled at you.” You admitted quietly, ashamed that you had, though in the moment it felt justified. It felt like it was the only way to get your voice to work through the tumultuous offense of emotions from the day’s events. From what they meant.

“And I yelled back.”

“Are we….okay?”

“…yes. I want us to be, mesh’la.”

The ship was silent. His ears straining to hear any sound you might make as you stay motionless just on the other side of the door. You had rested your forehead against the metal of it, hands curled just below, supporting yourself on sore legs. Sighing, you opted for an easy question to bridge the weird silence.

“H-how long was I out for?”

“Two days, I tended to your smaller wounds when I changed you into clean clothes.”

“Thank you….”

“I have your armor out here, I cleaned the blaster powder off of it. Shined it for you, too.”

When you didn’t respond, a deep sigh bridged the gap.

“I know we need to talk about what happened. But…mesh’la you got so upset so quickly. And I know you didn’t meant to….but you threw me across the hold. And-“

“Did I hurt you? Did I scare you?” The words rushed from you, thoughts swirling l as you tried to recall those last moments of consciousness. But you couldn’t, they were a blur, all cloaked in emotions too intense and a surge of energy ran through you. Shuddering, you tried to tamp them down, not wanting to repeat the charged display.

“Yes, a little. To both.” The rasp of his voice confessed, stilling your heart as you realized you had done the one thing you were worried about. Especially in the wake of his injuries, his willingness to sacrifice himself for even a chance of everyone getting away safely.

You clenched your eyes shut tight, face feeling like it had been exposed to the cold for too long. Prickly and numb all at the same time.

“I know it wasn’t intentional.”

“That doesn’t matter. I still-“ A sob burst from your chest, masking the sound of Din getting up from where he had been. One of his hands snuck through the space of the cracked door, long fingers reaching for you. They brushed against your bare arm, circling around it and holding on in the only way he could a the moment.

“Please don’t cry, mesh’la. I’m okay.”

“Din…” You warbled, tears flowing and regret warming you from the inside out. Through a hiccup, you voiced your remorse. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s…it’s okay. I swear to you. We’re okay.” His hand squeezed your arm and you wanted nothing more than to curl into his chest and bury your face into his neck.

But for the time being, you gave the man his space, his privacy. Knowing the conversation to be had would be in small pockets, a lot for both of you to get into at all once.

Tatooine was the obvious choice for the repairs, you had agreed when Din told you of the route he had calculated. Requesting the hanger that Pelli resided in upon entering the atmosphere and talking with the dispatch team for air control. She was already waiting before the ramp had completely leveled out and settled, recognizing the ship. It took more concentration from Din to land the Crest, manually controlling every aspect as the landing gear had gone offline as one of the engines faltered and then failed. Another ramification of your outburst.

“Well, if it isn’t Mando! What did you do this time, you’ve got an entire engine out!”

“Doesn’t matter, will you be able to fix it?”

“Why, of course!” Her voice was loud, booming in the space of her hangar. Moving at a slightly slower pace, you walked down the ramp. A gasp falling from her lips as she noticed the beskar you now donned, the matching signets attached to the pauldrons.

“I was just jokin’ around last time, but the matching do-hickeys gotta mean she’s your girl, right?”

Helmet turning, the dark visor looked you over. Taking in the full visage of you in the armor that had been a gift, the shining metal making pride swell in his sternum. Neither of you responded to her teasing, opting to distract her with the presence of ad’ika. He was taking big, swinging steps down the ramp, looking adorable in his newly stitched outfit. Din had surprised you one morning, seated at the table with the child dressed in nothing but his underwear as his fingers worked a thread and needle through the burlap tunic. He had taken the time after some consideration and decided to turn the open ended tunic into a jumpsuit, allowing for ad’ika’s legs to move easier. He had tripped over the loose, open hem one too many times in an attempt to run from the running water in the fresher sink that signaled a bath for him.

It had both you and Din suppressing laughter, much to the pouting of the child.

“Oh Maker, there he is!” Pelli was respectful enough not to board the ramp, crouching down at the end of it and making grabby hands with her arms reaching out.

After a rather entertaining attempt at pleading her case for babysitting, your trio set off into town. You had a large pack secure on your shoulders, full of pieces to sell to pay for the repairs needed on the Crest. Din had been in no condition to take any jobs from Karga upon departure, nor had he wanted to immediately jump back into the time-consuming hunting in wake of his responsibility to find an appropriate guardian for ad’ika.

“Patu!” Ad’ika exclaimed from his snug position in the canvas bag around your shoulders. He was resting against your hip, hands reaching for a brightly colored gelatine…thing displayed on a vendors table amid a variety of local fruit.

“Patu? Ad’ika, what in the- is that a word?” Side-eyeing Din, you gathered a few fruits as well, making sure to get the ones a small claw pointed to along with some that looked interesting to you. Plus the one he already had picked up and taken a bite out of.

“Not that I know of.”

“How many languages can you speak, while we’re on the subject?”

“We weren’t, really. But it would be…quite a few.”

“Except for Jawa.” You snorted, recalling the broken words he tried to exchange with the scavenging people what seemed like so long ago now. But you were beginning to look back on that time of your life not with an air of frustration but consideration. The compound you had been stolen away to leading you to the life you currently led. Maybe there was still an echo of frustration, of personal failure for not being aware that day in town. Of having let your guard down while on a rare supply run into one of the few cities scattered within the vast sands of Tatooine.

But….for all the bad that had occurred from that one instance of capture, the things you had to endure and the feeling of losing all hope for a life of even moderate freedom. Of life itself. For everything that had happened to you while at that compound, it was a chapter of your life. You could let it taint you, poison you. And you had, for so long.

Now…now there was hope and the notion that it had all led to the present. Aboard a ship with two people you trusted and cared for. And it was all you could do, to not be consumed by it.

“Jawa is pointless, speaking to them in their native language or another yields the same results.” He turned the question on you, his curiosity peaked just as yours had been.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Attention only half on the wall of armor he made, you turned with a handful of credits to the man keeping watch over his wares. He passed back the difference with a frown, eyes trailing over you in an uncomfortable manner.

“A kid with me would look better than whatever type of creature that is.” A suggestive grin broke out across his face. His hand snatching out in an attempt to grab at your own. “Should ditch the suit and spend some time with me.”

Before you could even think of a response other than to take an offended and disgusted step back, Din was blocking your line of sight. His fist was around the vendor’s neck, lifting him from the ground a few inches as he leaned in threateningly.

“My helmet must be malfunctioning, because I’m pretty sure you didn’t just insult my vencuyot riduur right in front of me.” He didn’t so much say the words as growled them, pleasure blooming between your legs at the implication of his words and his instant defensiveness. You were more than capable of handling yourself and had proven as such to him, but for Din to raise his hackles and snap at this man was…endearing in the filthiest of ways.

Future wife.

“Since we’re on the subject, your pronunciation is very good. But some words seem to have slightly different meanings almost.” Shoving the vendor away from him, the man stumbled down, disappearing from view. It took your brain a second to catch up and realize that Din had been speaking to you. When he tilted his helmet to the side a bit, you mimicked him. With a modulated chuckle, he guided you with a hand on the small of your back further into the marketplace and repeated his words.

“We weren’t really.” You stuck your tongue out at him, prompting the child to imitate you with an adorable giggle. Din altered his next step to brush his shoulder against yours, pauldrons clinking softly and jostling you. When your foot faltered, he used the hand still around you to pull you close. “You grew up on Concordia, no?”

“Correct.”

“Well, Mando’a is an agglutinative language. It’s built on itself, two words becoming one over time, helping to bridge the different dialects, or simply to condense the language. So you speak Concordian, which is a different dialect than what I leaned from Akiz. He had been raised on Mandalore and that’s where we spent a few years hidden from the Empire’s forces.”

“You- you lived on Mandalore?” Static over the modulator relayed the force of his words, taken off guard by your casual revelation about your past. You paused, turning to face him fully, eyes focusing on the visor with a furrowed brow.  

“Y-yeah, is that…I thought I told you?”

“No…that’s- mesh’la, that’s-“ You swore you could hear the swallow he took to compose himself, words jumbled in his mind and in his mouth. “New.”

“Wait, did you never-?”

“The fighting corps were on Concordia. I didn’t leave unless it was for training and then we had to flee, go into hiding.”

“Ner kar’ta, I’m so sorry. It was such a beautiful planet. And you- you’re one of the most devout Mandalorian’s I’ve ever met, you deserved to have seen it in its prime.”

After a few more shared streets, looking over the things offered by the local vendors, you parted ways.

You set off in the direction of an armory you had once sold to, run out of someone’s personal abode, attached to a warehouse that allowed them to house a kiln, forge, and space for a considerable collection of wares for sale. The armored man going off to search for any signs of Mandalorians that had fled Navarro.

Now making your way slowly through the town, walking through the door streets the way you had come with your escort earlier, a successful sale of the pieces you had crafted during the time it took to travel here under your belt.

An apple rolled over the toes of your boots, garnering your attention. Following the path it must’ve taken with your eyes and then seeing a few more bouncing and rolling away in other directions, you noticed a woman struggling to get her hand back from the same vendor who had tried to do the exact thing to you.

“Hey! Leave her alone, creep!” Swift steps and you were prying the young woman’s arm from the vendors crushing grip. Maker, she couldn’t have been much older than her teens. The blaster holstered to the back of your hips was raised and pointed at the man, his hands reaching for his own but far too slow.

“Did you pay him?” You asked her over your shoulder, seeing the fruit that had flown from her basket at the man’s advances.

“N-no, I was about to when he grabbed me.”

“Gather what you want and then go home.”

“You don’t get to decide that!”

“I think you’ve done enough to her, the least you could do is take the loss of a single transaction.”

“You didn’t pay either, your Mando,” He spat the word out. “Took the payment back for your stuff as well.”

“Then maybe you should stop harassing your customers.”

Suddenly, a woman appeared behind him and knocked the blaster from where he had been reaching for it, frozen over the holster at the sight of yours already raised.

“Alright, let’s break it up.” She was tall and held the air of someone with authority. The shine of the sun on a badge pinned to her front had you lowering your weapon. Not wanting to complicate things further, you holstered it and turned to help the poor woman who had been harassed. She was scurrying around and picking up the fallen fruit.

The vendor slinked back behind his tables, beginning to gather all of his stuff up. Closing shop for the day and cutting his losses.

Once both were gone from the busy street, the woman approached you with a hand held out in greeting.

“Sioban, local official.”

“Sarad. Just passing through.”

“Oh don’t be that way, I’m not going to arrest you. C’mon let’s go grab a drink, you can tell me more about that Mandalorian armor you’re wearing. I’ve never seen such pure beskar.”

That’s how you found yourself opposite the friendly woman, pink drinks in both your hands and sharing traveling stories. She was kind, told you they didn’t have any signs of the type of struggle rumored to have occurred on the nearby planets. But she must’ve been a newly instated official, having no recollection of her from your past time spent on the dessert planet. You felt at ease with her, so alike to how you had been before, when you had traveled with Akiz. Curious, excited, wanting to know all there was to know. Even in wake of the knowledge and reality that you were on the run, but allowed the chance to be a child with a guardian to look after you and ensure your safety.

You must’ve lost track of time, because the quiet hush of the bar’s patrons silenced as a tall, broad figure appeared in the doorway. Visor scanning the crowd. It picked back up once he didn’t immediately stalk toward someone he was in search of, the patrons deeming him a visitor just like themselves. Upon seeing you, his steps picked up and he was beside the table you were seated at. The slight crook of his helmet beckoning you and calling you silently back to the ship.

“Indulge me, ner kar’ta.” You whispered into the side of his helmet, body leaning in close. The woman on the other side of the booth let a knowing smile overtake her delicate features as she realized who this man was to you. Not a controlling father or partner coming to fetch you, but a loved one simply catching up with you after an afternoon apart. “Just one more drink, then back to the ship.”

“Fine. But then we depart.”

“Sioban, this is…um, Mando-“ You looked to him, unsure if he was okay with you introducing him as such, at the nod of his helmet, you continued on. “Ner kar’ta, this is Sioban. She was kind enough to get me out of some potential trouble.”

“Thank you, for looking out for her.”

“You’re very welcome, Mando. She looked about ready to pummel the man, but he’s known for being involved with a local gang and I didn’t want her to have a mark on her back.”

“What happened?”

“That vendor from earlier was harassing a young girl, so I stepped in to intervene.”

A gurgling laugh burst into the air as ad’ika’s small head popped up from the bag around his shoulders.

“Oh! A baby!” Sioban squealed, leaning over the table to wiggle her fingers at him, prompting more carefree laughter. “I didn’t know you had a baby.”

“He’s cute, no?” You carefully wrangled him from the canvas and handed him to her, trusting that she wasn’t a threat. Ad’ika was a wiggling bundle in her arms, cooing and gurgling as he lavished the attention she was dotting on him. You moved aside for Din to settle into the booth, cramping you in the small space.

The walk from the bar in the city center back to the hangers in the outskirts was quiet, but comfortable. Ad’ika was on your shoulders, pointing his little claws up at the shooting stars streaking through the sky. You were both munching on a sweet hand pie from the bar, offering the small child bites you tore from the wrapping. A bite handed to him and then one for you, but the next one about to be popped from your mouth was stolen midair by a quick hand.

The hiss of the seal on Din’s helmet took you by surprise, the glimpse of his stubbled jaw even more so as he popped the bite of the pie into his own mouth. The flash of a plush bottom lip stole your attention, hidden away as quickly as it had been exposed, but even so a bloom of desire flared to life in your gut. A claw tangling tight in your hair as you delayed the next bite pulled your attention away, a grunt of discomfort loud as you gently reprimanded him to be kind.

Feeling his own eyes sweep over you made it hard to concentrate on carefully tearing another bite from the pastry.

Future wife. Vencuyot riduur. Riduur.

Riduur.

Riduur.

For the rest of the trip back to the ship, you couldn’t quell the prickling of desire all over your body, arousal pooling between your legs. Fueled by the two drinks you had deemed an appropriate treat for the day. Once putting the passed out child in the hammock in the larger part of the hull space, Din joined you in the small cabin that was his personal quarters.

Din’s hands were soft over your thighs, fingers caressing the old scars born of anger and desperation set into your skin. The clothes you were wearing were too hot all of a sudden, heat and the prickling desire flaring all over. But you were so tired and all you could do was let out an appreciative groan as your lashes fluttered closed and your head lolled to the side atop your pillow.

“Din, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” The words were mumbled, slurred into the air on a puff of breath. A confession and an apology rolled into one sleepy sentiment. “Vencuyot riddur.”

I love you. Future husband.

Fingers stilling, they pressed to you, palms wide and gripping tight over your thighs, a hitch of breath given life through his helmet. Then his hands were moving up up up, over your middle, your chest, your neck. They were gentle as they cupped your face, but you didn’t move, allowing him to press the forehead of his helmet to your temple. The heat of his body hovering so close above you had your legs moving to wrap around his waist.

Insistent prodding of him hard and wanting against your hip ignited a strike of excitement through your middle to settle low in your stomach. Through the fog of fast approaching sleep, you tried to roll your hips against his, but you were suddenly tilting, body manipulated on your side and back pulled to his chest.

A rumble of a chuckle filled the small space was the last thing you remembered as sleep finally won over.

“We need to be quick, just a supply run and to see if there’s a covert on world.” Din’s words were quiet, mumbled. You only hummed in response, not even stirring when the man’s arms wrapped around your body and pulled you flush against him. The hard line of him in his underwear gently prodded at the small of your back.

That sent a bolt of pleasure down your stomach, his hand chasing it as he rested his palm against the skin of your navel. Before his fingers could delve underneath the waistband of your shorts, you were shifting in his grip to face him. You didn’t say anything as you began to place open mouthed kisses along his chest, his hands gripping you tight. His chest was so firm, the muscles of endless training molding him and tempting you to lavish attention.

You certainly weren’t too tired now, to indulge.

Hands ghosting up, you placed them flat and pushed. And it shouldn’t have sparked pleasure laced with an unbearable heat straight to your core as he allowed you to urge him on his back, but it did. The heady notion that he was allowing you to move him how you pleased lighting you up and desire pool low. You threw a leg over his thighs, straddling them low and leaned down to attach your lips to the column of his neck. He groaned out, crackling the speaker in his helmet and you smirked against his skin. Parting your lips, you licked a line up to the bottom of it before you sunk your teeth into the side of his throat. He jolted, entire body convulsing at the nip you were bold enough to place.

“Mesh’la-“

You shushed him with a puff of hot air, soothing the bite with your tongue before moving down down down.

Hands firm on his ribs, you nipped at each of his nipples, getting rewarded with twin grunts and a harsh jerk of his cock against your stomach. His thick fingers moved to tangle through your hair, before they were pulled suddenly away.

“Sorry, I didn’t-“

“Do not apologize,” You kissed into the skin of his stomach, reaching up for his hands that hovered just shy of touching. Moving them back to where they had been, you squeezed his wrists in a reassuring motion. “Din, if I don’t want you to do something or I’m uncomfortable, I will tell you.”

“Just…don’t want to be too forward…or rough.”

“You’re gonna need to hold onto something,” Mouth still trailing over him, you swirled your tongue around his belly button, stomach muscles twitching and he bucked up at the sensation of the heat that began to simmer just below. “When I get my mouth around your cock.”

“Shit, you have a mouth on you, huh? We ah really should –“ His words morphed into a low moan as your lips kissed the tip of him through the fabric. Mouthing gently at him, you felt your own body begin to spark. The thought of taking him fully in your mouth too temping to ignore. He had felt so delicious against you the two times you’d been intimate with him and you wanted to give him everything.

Mouth, indeed, you thought as you continued to mouth at him through the fabric, a wet spot sprouting.

Fingers locking in your hair, his head knocked back as you slid your hands around your face to hook fingers into the band of his underwear and pulled. His cock bobbed up, a quiet slap against his stomach, slick at the tip and hard.

Flattening your tongue, you dragged it up the underside of him, flicking it against the tip as you lifted your head. The visor was aimed down at you, but you could barely glimpse it in the shine of faint lights along the walls.

“This okay?”

“Fuck, it’s more than okay, mesh’la.”

Ducking back down, you felt his fingers clench in your hair. Breath ghosting over him before you took him in your hand, fisting him at the base. You knew he was big from feeling him against you, as he glided through your folds and rutted. But to have him in your hand, the heat of him, the pulsing felt against your palm, the musky scent of him. It was all so much and you wanted to take your time. But there was a niggling question in the back of your mind. Contemplating voicing it, you placed chaste kisses all along the length, you took a breath, feeling the weight of his tip against your bottom lip.

“Has-“

“No,” He growled out at the sight of you draped over his legs, mouthing at the most precious part of him. “You’re the only one, will be the only one.”

Your response was to wrap your lips around him, tongue collecting the shine of his arousal that was dribbling from his tip. Knuckles popping with the force of his grip, you swallowed him down with a hum.

Bubbling laughter and then a muted crash of something through the door broke the moment, attention pulled from him slowly as you ran your hands down his twitching stomach. Releasing him with a pop, you brushed tingling fingers against him, cupping his cock gently before you were gone completely from the bed.

“I’ll get him, ner kar’ta.” Your voice was smug, knowing he was internally battling two very different sets of instincts. “Hop in the fresher and take care of yourself.”

“He has the worst timing.”

“We can pick this up once he goes down for his nap later.” Were your parting words before the door hushed open and closed, leaving him alone in the darkness.

You pulled your hair up away from your face, face still heated from being pressed so closely to the furnace that Din was. But you masked it well, searching all around the ship for the little figure of ad’ika.

The clink of you lining up rings on the makeshift table roused him from his light slumber. Metallic sound prickling across his temples and stirring the low-grade headache he had laid down with last night into something stronger. Something that made it hard to focus. The scab was gone completely, in the weeks it took to stay on the move, traveling through hyperspace more often than being stationary on land these days. It had healed with the aid of routine bacta treatments and more time without his helmet. He had taken to spending nights up in the room he had se up for you, the hatch to the ladder securely closed to ensure his privacy up on the smaller second story of the ship.

You didn’t mind, wanting to respect his need for privacy. For a safe space to heal and take care of himself in a way that he hadn’t had to as of yet. His injury had been severe, almost stealing him away from you and it remained in the back of your mind. Remorse for having agitated it in a fit of emotion the very same day it occurred. Even with his reassurances that you hadn’t done too much to worsen it.

Seated at the makeshift table, you were finishing up the newest piece of chainmail for the small collection to be sold on the next planet. For fuel, for food, for more supplies. It didn’t matter what you needed, you wanted to ensure that there was a small build-up of credits for whatever your little trio might need. Your clan, now. The Armorer’s words stitched through your mind, through your heart.

“Meshla, I think I need to remain on the ship this time.” He was without his armor, dressed only in trousers and a long-sleeved shirt similar to the one you often slept in. All back and well worn, boots adorning his feet though he was slow in his movements. One look at him, the black visor, and you could tell by the stillness he had adopted since sitting opposite you. He wasn’t feeling well, something he wasn’t used to voicing.

“I don’t mind refueling and getting supplies.” You carefully began to put your tools away, wrapping them up in the cloth you had laid out atop the makeshift table to avoid making too much noise while he slept.

“The route says another couple of hours, you don’t have to put up your stuff just yet.”

“It’s okay, if your head is hurting, I don’t want to make it worse with constant noise.” Contemplating your next words, you didn’t want to offend the man across from you, but you worried…And you recalled the signets that had been worn by those injured in battle. To display the difficulty they might have with communication or mobility, for other Mandalorian’s to show they respects and act accordingly should the individuals need aid.

“Do we need to consider finding a welder?”

“Something for your armor? Or to sell to?”

“No, ner kar’ta, for… um a mir’shupur sigil for your armor?”

Brain injury. Disabled.

“No.” It was gruff, his voice holding none of the softness it adopted when speaking to you. He leaned his hands atop the makeshift table to stand.

“O-okay, I was just-“

“You should be as quick as possible, once we land.” His broad back was to you, muscles tense and steps slow as he walked away, shutting the conversation in more ways than one. You stayed in your seat well after he had disappeared. The tightness in your throat hurting as you tried to will the tears that had sprung up away. He wasn’t mad, you tried to reassure yourself. You had just spoken out of term, unthinkingly. That’s all, just a miscommunication. They were bound to happen.

You were halfway down the street when you heard a low murmur of chatter, turning slightly to feign interest in the food stall beside you, you caught a glimpse of orange and yellow. Officers. From the New Republic. Two of them were entering the storefront you had just left. Where you had just conducted business with the owners. They hadn’t asked after your name nor of where you had learned your skills, but they would most likely give a description if prompted.

Barely turning the corner to another street, is when a voice shouted aloud for you to stop.

Your quick steps broke out into a sprint, trying to put as much space between you and them before they gave chase.

“Hey! We’ve got a warrant out for you, stop!”

“Kriff.” You cursed, ducking beneath a pair of Verpine aliens as they carried beams of wood through the street. Dirt kicking up as you skidded to take a sudden turn down a narrow alley. Jumping onto the speeder parked in the small space, you reached for the roof and pulled yourself up. Breath huffing, you laid flat on your back, ears straining to listen for the officers.

“She must’ve gone this way, there’s a den known for housing criminals.”

“Alright, let’s go. Quick, before she gets off world.”

Their steps didn’t follow down the alley you had all but hurt your back to turn into, continuing on down the street until you couldn’t hear them anymore.

As you began to briskly walk through the residential streets, you sensed the attention of someone else focused on you. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It was more concentrated than when Din had been a formidable figure at your side on previous planets. But you were more concerned with getting back to the ship, the officers only a few streets behind. Most likely still in pursuit.

Ignoring it since you didn’t have the time to turn the tables and stalk them in return, ambushing them and demanding to know why they were following you, you continued on. Thoughts focused on getting back to the outskirts of the small city where Din had opted to land the ship. The docking hangers sparse and spread out around the dense city.

“Ner kar’ta!” You called out as soon as the ramp to the ship was down, the hissing of the hydraulics sending a chill through you as you rushed up. You worried for a second you were being too loud, but you had picked up on the way the man was slower to respond since removing his helmet for long periods of time over travel. You suspected he was hard of hearing in one of his ears, a result of the charges he favored but definitely a side effect of his more recent injuries. “Ner kar’ta, can we run my chain code? I almost just got arrested and I wanna know why. I haven’t done anything the last six years except for travel with you.”

You didn’t hear any response, instead the ramp closed and the ship started up. Only when it was safely out of the planets atmosphere and a flight plan coordinated for hyperspace, did Din’s form appear as it came down the ladder.

Listening as he explained the puck he had received with information of you when he took the job of hunting you down so long ago had updated. Just as there was a warrant out for his arrest, there was one for you as well. For aiding in the escape of Qin, the job that Ran had set up and into motion. It wasn’t surprising, you had both been aboard the prisoner ship, abundant with cameras and security droids. But it was still worrying to have been noticed so closely.

That it would be easy for any bounty hunter or local official or officer to be able to recognize you now.

Din retreated to the cot, leaving you in the hold space once you assured him you were okay and nothing had happened in the city beyond the quick errands and resupply of fuel. You told him of the expenses and he waved a hand as you listed them off. Citing that it was your credits covering everything and he wasn’t concerned with them if you weren’t.

Days passed, much the same. You spent time entertaining and caring for ad’ika. Din joining you in the same bed some nights, others he slept alone. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just an understanding of him needing space and you respected that. You needed it too, thoughts of being wanted publicly and officially not sitting well with you. You had done a good job of staying below the radar until now, and it was hard to adjust to the notion that you could be recognized while out and about.

The ship was stationary, docked at a hangar on some plush planet, a sight of tourism and capitalism. A collection of casinos and gambling rings, race tracks and so many other things for people to lose countless hours and credits indulging in. Din had deemed it a safe enough environment to rest for the morning before disembarking. He had returned to bed after securing the ship and asked you to pay the docking fee.

You had, a quick transaction, reassurance that you were protected here even so deep in the city from the droid who registered the ship. Making a pod of caf, you checked on a deeply sleeping child up in what was considered your bunk. He had practiced with the Force some early this morning, a way to distract him from the nightmares that woke him at too early of an hour. You had left the tangle of limbs and blankets that had been you and Din down in the hold space to tend to the child. He had been slumbering ever since, successful in manipulating a snack toward him, not once but twice with gently and steady encouragement from you.

“Hey,” You broke the silence of the hull. Leaning against the doorway to the small cabin. You were cradling a steaming mug in your hands, stripped down to your socked feet, trousers, and tank top. Din hummed, letting you know he was awake. “I wanted to apologize for earlier, when I asked after a mir’shupur signet. I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t recovering.”

“I know.”

“I’m just worried, you’ve been doing the bacta treatments and you say the scabbing is mostly gone. But I see the way you’ve slowed down, how delayed you are to respond when you don’t have your helmet on.”

“I’ll be fine, mesh’la.” His baritone voice was soft, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as yourself. But he was improving, it was just slow going, as with all head injuries. Bacta or not, and if there was the luxury of time, of endless credits and the ability for him to, you would’ve suggested a bacta tank.

It was just too unrealistic a notion with the current predicament. Lack of time, lack of resources, lack of privacy that would allow for it to be possible. If you could take his pain and discomfort, you would do so in a heartbeat. But you didn’t dare voice that sentiment, knowing he would argue that he would take the consequences of his actions, because he stood by them and that was the way things were.

“I know, I just…I care for you and I want to help, I just…I spoke out of term and I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“….you didn’t.” A sigh. “I considered it as well, back on Nevarro, just…just in case it was that serious.”

“I just want you to be okay and if I-“ A hiccup bubbled up, tears hot and spilling through your lashes, “If I made it worse even just a little when I threw you across the hull, I-“

Din was suddenly pushing up from the bed, gloved hands coming up to wipe away the tears trailing down your cheeks. The mug was gently pried from your hands, placed atop the makeshift table before he engulfed you in a comforting embrace.

“Fuck, take what you need, take what you want.” Din’s voice was deliciously low and desperate as he felt the way you moved against his hand. The modulator crackled slightly with the timbre of his words, the force of them on a heavy exhale. Your skin was so hot, and your pleasure was obvious as slick coated his hand, he was trying not to let his instincts and past experiences take over. Not wanting to ruin this for you, not wanting to scare you off or trigger you into a silent episode as he had so stupidly done far too many times before. “You deserve to feel good, mesh’la.”

He crooked his fingers, pads gliding over something deep in you that hitched your breath. He did it again and pressed deliberately, a loud moan tearing itself from your throat as your back arched. Wide eyes were trained on him when he looked up from where his hand was encompassing you, pushing into your core. His eyes trailed up the sweat slick expanse of your skin through the visor, up your stomach to your breasts that were rocking with the movements you had begun to instinctually make. Your peaked nipples looking like too much of a temptation atop the soft flesh, your neck was flushed dark, the heat encompassing you obvious on your sun-kissed skin, craning as you tried to fight the urge to give into your pleasure completely.

Your expression was wrecked. Your eyes were blown out to leave only a sliver of their true color. Your plush lips were swollen from biting into them as his hands had brought you to the precipice. They were parted as you tried to catch your breath but all that was falling from them were moans that went straight through him, igniting the blood in his veins and settling low where he was hard and straining against his trousers.

Din was tempted to darken the room and remove his helmet to trail his lips over everything he was seeing right now. As if reading his thoughts, you licked your lips before speaking in a desperate tone, panting slightly with the effort to get the words out around your pleasure.

“I want to kiss you.”

His fingers stilled inside you, his thumb atop the bundle of nerves that had you gasping just a second ago freezing. You whimpered at the stillness, his hands still on you. You felt your hips undulate still, desperately searching for the friction that had pleasure rolling over you just a second ago.

“I want to feel your face in my hands even if I can’t see it, to feel your lips trail down my body.” You keened, the words falling unbidden from your mouth as you writhed underneath and against him. “I’d let you, I’d let you touch me, mark me.”

They must’ve been the wrong words, the wrong thing to say because the energy in the room shifted from charged and sensual to stiff and uncomfortable. Fear trickled down your spine, making you shudder. You had never wanted someone to touch you the way you were asking, begging for. Never. And you had felt so safe, so sure he would want the same that you blurted out your desires as the haze of pleasure had overtaken you.

You had messed up, if the complete rigid form of Din in front of you was any indication. Spoken too honestly and too selfishly. Insultingly, of his Creed.

“We can’t…I-I don’t...” Din slowly removed his hand from in and around you, placing it on the bed near your hip. He ignored the way it seemed a shame to waste the taste of you on the fabric when his mouth was such a better home for it. He moved his weight around slightly, so he wasn’t hovering over you as you spoke, but was perched near your legs. You sat up a little as well, bringing your arms that had been grasping at his biceps and shoulders underneath you to push up. Bottom lip coming between your teeth, and you worried the skin, emotions spiking and trying to keep them at bay.

Despite your efforts, you felt a lump form in your throat, the hot shame of speaking such things lighting up your body from the inside out in a rather unpleasant way. Replacing the heat of desire that had been flooding you just seconds ago. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to try and center yourself.

When you opened them back up, you had reverted back to the neutral expression you would hold around him when you first met and all those weeks after. The tightening of his shoulders told you as much.

“You don’t want to kiss me.” Your voice was small, taking on the void of emotion it had for most of your life. You were shrinking into yourself, bringing your limbs close and making the space you took up as small as possible, a far cry from how you had just been stretched out across the entire bed. His bed. Your bed. The bed you shared.

You had made an absolute fool of yourself, writhing around and begging for him in a way that was too uninhibited. You knew that it was a serious thing, for him to even consider removing his helmet.

Firsthand, you had seen how he refused to remove it even in the face of death, in the case of extreme injury that needed to be tended to. Feeling small, insignificant, foolish for asking after such a thing from a man sworn to do nothing of the sort. He undressed, he allowed you to see and feel his body, a test to the boundaries and meaning of his faith already. Selfish, the word rang loud in your head, you were selfish. And you had no right to be. “You don’t want to kiss me.”

“It’s….it’s an intimate thing…I don’t…I have…” He didn’t know how to get the words out even as they all rushed around his head, overlapping with each other. He watched the way your face composed into a mask, an unreadable cover that didn’t give way the crush his words were causing.

It didn’t matter the commitment he made to you, his actions now stung, his lack of a response as to why hurting like a blade imbedded in your chest. He would touch you, he would rock against your body with his own, but he didn’t want to kiss you. Stupid, you thought, how stupid it was to want to kiss someone. Such a dumb, adolescent thing to yearn for.

With a blink your eyes cleared of any pleasure you had lingering on your skin, in your very nerves from him. You calmly reached out across the bed to pull your bandeau top back on before slipping the discarded tank top back over your shoulders.

“You don’t want to be intimate with me in that way….it’s- it’s not just your Creed. You don’t- you don’t want me physically the same way I want you. I’m- Maker, I am so stupid.”

Your words might as well have come from a droid for all the emotion they were devoid of. You reached further to retrieve your underwear and stood, your legs a little shaky from the magic that Din’s fingers had been casting on you, had used to distract you from the truth of the situation. That you would never get to feel all of him, that he would never give you all of himself. You felt his reach to help steady you, but you stepped further away, closer to the door of the cabin as you stepped into the fabric and tugged it up hastily.

“No, no, that’s not! It’s…you’re so… just…” He wanted to ask if you were sure, if your words were real and not just you getting lost in the pleasure of the moment. His helmet coming off was something that needed to be planned, needed to be wanted, by everyone involved. He’d never…he had never removed it to be with someone and Maker, he wanted to so with you, but he hadn’t wanted to overwhelm you.

He hadn’t wanted to scare you off with the meaning behind it, the undermining breach of the Creed he devoted himself to.

But you couldn’t know that, because he hadn’t voiced it. Nor the dreams he awoke from in the night of your lips on his. It didn’t matter if he had made a commitment to you, had even uttered a loving decree, he didn’t want to remove his helmet and it hurt.

“I asked too much of you, I apologize. I didn’t mean to overstep my place, jatne vod.” You bowed your head slightly, brain shutting back down in the face of daring to ask for something once in your life only to be turned down so quickly. It shouldn’t feel like your heart was being impaled, but your breath was shallowing out as it did so, your chest aching in a way you weren’t familiar with. Rejection, it stung like nothing you had ever experienced, not even akin to the blade of your saber during training drills. And then: heartache, your mind betrayed you as it gave word to it.

Of course he wouldn’t want to remove his helmet for you, he hadn’t even wanted to remove it on the brink of death. He was already cruising the line of his Creed by allowing you to see his body, to share in pleasure with him in that way, and you felt shame, disappointment, greedy. And you didn’t like it.

He was motionless, the stab of the term you called him harsh in his chest. Piercing him and stinging far worse than any injury he could have sustained.

Din stood, grabbing his shirt from where it lay on the floor, he tugged it over his helmet, only to hear the door to the cabin hush as it opened the second the fabric was blocking his visor. When he pulled the collar down to rest along his neck, you were gone from the space in front of him, the door left open. The rustling of fabric and the clinking of your pauldrons had his skin buzzing.

“San?” Din’s voice was frantic as he tried to pull the flight suit top closed quickly over his shirt, his fingers not quite able to grasp at the zipper for a second. He reached for his gloves as his head swiveled as he searched for where you ran off to in the hold. The sound of the ramp door opening and lowering settled heavy in his middle as he finally managed to pull his gloves on, still wet with the tears that had fallen from your eyes. He didn’t see any shadows or movement about the ship, crazed energy began to wash over him. You had run. You had run from him. You had run from him and left the ship.

He repeated it louder as he marched down the ramp, he reached up to press the side of his helmet to activate the heat sensor. He followed your steps down the ramp with the visor, his own quiet beneath him despite the flood of emotions overwhelming him and urging him to run. To chase. He followed the trail through the landing pads of the docking area before they were lost in the dozens and dozens that led into the hectic streets of the city.

It was after an hour he realized he hadn’t put on any of his armor, essentially walking into the dense city streets naked. His flight suit pants, separate top zipped up over an undershirt, boots and gloves. He suddenly felt worried for you, donned only in your clothing, no armor either. He knew you could hold your own but that didn’t do much to help ease his mind as he realized he had eyes tracking his every movement. His helmet garnering unwanted attention.

He needed to regroup, if he had any chance at tracking you. He knew you, knew how well you could hide and stay hidden from those searching for you. But he also knew you. That you liked the fancier places to eat, the fresher food served in such places, the colored drinks they offered. That you liked the comfort of a soft bed, the security of a hotel, to look out the windows at the ever-bustling city even well into the night as sleep pulled at you and made you lethargic. Despite not liking crowds, you flourished in the busy marketplaces, making idle chit chat with the vendors, asking after local fruits and wanting to try each one.

Sighing, he scanned the street he was on one last time, visor unable to pick up on your trail. Turning, he vowed to get dressed properly and find you. He needed to. He needed to swallow the self consciousness that had taken over him in that moment and still was. He needed to tell you that he wanted to kiss you too, more than anything. But that he hadn’t kissed anyone. You would be the first, the only. But he had to find you. You had to know.

But come nightfall, he hadn’t been able to find any leads. Having secured his armor and weapons before securing ad’ika in the bunk of the hull, with a promise to return with you in his arms. Even when he had ducked into a bar whose sign surely called you toward it. Asking the guard at the door if he had seen someone of your description, but they had claimed not to. Even when he had scoured the marketplace, hoping to pick up any signs of you purchasing a replacement cloak or a new pack of cigarras that you were so fond of.

It was like you had vanished, no trace of you to be found.

Din doesn’t think his heart had stopped thudding heavily in his chest the whole time he searched.

You tried to keep the tears at bay, but they stung in the column of your throat, they stung behind your cheeks. Your head was throbbing with the effort to focus on things in front of you. The waning pleasure thrumming in your body no longer welcome as shame overrode it. The suns were too bright, and the crowd was too large. But you continued to walk, continued to put distance between you and the one place you thought you had been safe to ask for things. To be yourself.

Ignoring the concerned and wary glances of onlookers around the busy streets, you pushed on. No destination in mind other than to get as far away from the docking station set up in the middle of the city.

Catching sight of a flashing neon sign, you turned, coming face to face with a man standing guard at the door to a bar. Trying your best to smile, to appear put together, you greeted him in Basic. He stepped aside, allowing you to enter. Thankful for the simple clothing you preferred to appear classy enough to allow you admittance. Though you did regret not thinking to grab your cape or armor in the quick rush away from the embarrassing disaster that was now your afternoon. You had only managed to grab your saber handle and the pouch you kept attached to your thigh in your haste.

At least you had a way to protect yourself, at least you had credits.

But even the attempt at seeking peace to calm down and gather your thoughts seemed to be a mistake on your part.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ all alone?” A twi-lek approached you, broad in the shoulders and donned in all black. The leather of his headdress was stitched with yellow, complimenting the tone of his skin. Lekku draped over his shoulders. He didn’t sit, which you were thankful for, but he did hover directly in front of your small booth, a drink in his hand.

“Just having a moment alone,” You didn’t look up from your meal, not wanting to entertain the man even the slightest. Even if it didn’t feel like it at the moment, you were committed to another. And you would never betray Din’s trust. Even… even if it meant you would never get to experience the feel of his lips on your own.

The announcement of his commitment to you, his intention of courtship. It had been a lot, but you were okay with things being an eventuality. Or at least, you had thought that you were. But you had failed to express yourself properly…or you had done so correctly but in the wrong circumstance, with the wrong words. Still unaccustomed to feeling such strong physical emotions and urges, still unaccustomed to the ways in which you were both discovering each other’s bodies in such a safe space.

It was a confusing thing, due to the instances he would disengage the seal on his helmet and allow you a glimpse. Though rare, they made you feel like he had unfailing trust in you, that he was comfortable.

“I can get you another drink, if you’d like?” He slid into the booth, effectively setting your instincts on high alert. He didn’t look like a threat, but his presence was unwelcome, and you were already at an emotional capacity and unwilling to entertain civility.

“No.”

“C’mon, a pretty face like yours shouldn’t look so glum.”

“Then leave.”

When he didn’t get up from the seat opposite side of the table, you did. Placing a few credits on the table as you did so.

You weren’t paying attention, head not on a swivel or senses on alert as you walked out of the bar, the guard bidding you a good evening.

A nod in return, you ducked out into the busy street, missing the feel of gauze from your cloak. The crowd was too much, the skin of your arms covered in goosebumps as you brushed past people moving too slowly. Unsure of where to go, you entertained the spare thought of checking into a hotel and contacting Din to ensure you were safe. Too wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the shadow of someone hiding just inside the alley you walked past.

A hand shot out and you shoved your own out to throw the person into a wall. But you had moved too slowly. The larger person pulled you into the darkness of the canopied alley, the suns having set completely and bathing the planet in a dark blue sky lit up with sparkling stars.

“Let me go.” You growled, unwilling to go down without a fight even through the sheer exhaustion that had taken hold of you from the day. But they were strong, you had to concentrate and harness a wave of energy at them to get them to back off. They let it happen, grunting when their back connected hard with the brick of buildings side. He recovered quickly, lunging at you, pinning you to the opposite wall of brick.

“No can do, little one. Your mother sent me to fetch you,” Thrashing, your fists thunked against his armor, echoing down the length of the dark alley.

The pinch of a large needle being pushed into the skin of your neck was the last thing you felt, barely able to get your mouth open to protest. The contents of the syringe acting fast and you felt your body go limp, mind fighting against the haze that was washing over you. Hands gripped you tight, arms closing around you and dragged you off…

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taglist: @clevergirl74 @strawberri-blonde @js-favnanadoongi @littlemisspascal @moonknight-s-cumdump @bookloverkat @golden-mando @beskarandblasters @feral-ferrule @bearsbeetsbeskar @76bookworm76 @anoverwhelmingdin @sarap-77 @picassopedro @sawymredfox @jessthebaker @genetics4life @mosssbawls

dividers: by the lovey @cafekitsune

[soupbabe]

I noticed you opened live action one piece requests! Could I request Zoro, Buggy, and Usopp x Male reader who is a berseker/"go rabid go stupid" type of fighter who constantly tries to do couples moves while fighting either as an established relationship love language kind of thing or to flirt?

Like I imagine Reader's like "Psst- Hot stuff, do me a soild and launch me up? I wanna crash on these fools with this big axe i found! >:-)"

One Piece Live Action Characters with a Male! Bserker! Reader

Featuring: Roronoa Zoro, Buggy the Clown, Usopp

Writing chaotic readers like this is so much fun omg. Idk if a lil violence warning is due, but also it's just something that comes with this kind of request lmao

Buggy

- Oh he loves a stupid man. Even better when he has bloodlust.

- Buggy wouldn't mind sharing some spotlight with you, he'd love to do some couple's moves!!

- He'd so get mad if people don't appreciate your fighting skills. Will stop everything just so his crowd can properly appreciate your chaos

- Buggy wouldn't mind upping the ante time to time, take his head off and use him as a biting projectile or something

- Buggy loves to see a move of yours succeeds!! Not only do you prove him wrong with your outlandish ideas, you're also very hot when you're bashing a guy's head in or something

- You come back to him beaming and covered in blood and he's pulling you in for a kiss

Roronoa Zoro

- If he kills the fun of calling out your finishing moves, there's no way Zoro is going to let you use him as a platform to jump off of

- He takes his combat pretty seriously, your flirty isn't what's going to get him to soften up around you

- Once you two share some rounds of practice together, one on one, he's going to be a lot less harsh on you about it

- Zoro loves fighting with you. You're chaotic, smiling through the whole match. You keep him on his toes and he likes it

- Once you're labeled as Zoro's boyfriend, I think he might surprise you during a fight with some enemies. He'd kneel down and tell you to jump off of him.

- Bring it up to Zoro afterwards and he'd avoid eye contact and tell you he doesn't know what you're talking about. Gets him a bit flustered

Usopp

- Oh Usopp can get himself into trouble so easily when he's around you

- You're so badass! You're the kind of guy he brags about being!! He stares at whatever you do with stars in his eyes

- If you call him handsome and immediately bring up an insane move to do with him, he's saying yes before he realizes what he got himself into

- Because 1) the coolest guy ever called him handsome and 2) he wants to impress you so bad

- He'll gladly shoot anything you'd ask him to, but he'll feel the regret right as one of his fire balls hits a bottle of alcohol you threw towards a marine ship.

- But it's worth it in the end for Usopp, as you thank him with a hug and compliment him for his skills. Makes him puff out his chest in pride, showing himself that he's more badass than he thought he was

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

I would love a BCC smut headcannon fic! I’ll leave it up to you! Not many people write about all of them. Thank you! 😊

Fine Print

An: This started out as some form of head cannons and turned out to whatever this is. I honestly don't know what this is.

Blackpool Combat club X Fem reader

Main Masterlist

Word count: 835

Summary: When Regal betrayed the BCC they were in search of a new leader and somehow you fit the part. You should have read the fine print

When Regal turned on the BBC months ago I didn’t know what to expect. Sure we all knew it would happen at some point but did that point need to be right now? I had the pleasure of being ringside for the match against Mox and MJF, I saw firsthand the look of betrayal on Jon’s face once he realized what had happened. 

The next few weeks were a bit of a daze, originally I was just being used as a distraction, as bait for this feud with Max. I honestly didn’t mind it, I still hated him for what happened during our days in the pinnacle so when Regal came to me with the idea I had to accept. Now that he’s gone the BCC needed a leader. I would assume the torch would be passed to Mox or Danielson but me? What did they see in me? Why did they want me to take over their sacred club?

Those next weeks as the new leader of the BCC went well, almost too well. We would travel and room together since that’s what factions do but I always felt like there was something else. The way the boys would exchange looks between the other hoping I didn’t realize but I always did. The way they would get jealous when other male talent approached me backstage. I almost felt like I was pray and they were predators waiting to find the right moment to attack. 

Tonight I had a match on Dynamite against Hikaru Shida, of course the boys needed to be ringside for my match. When I arrived at the arena I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, almost like I did something wrong. Just then Shida came up to me. 

“Hey Y/n!” Shida said, approaching me with a big smile 

“Hi Shida, you ready for tonight?” I asked 

“I’m ready to kick your ass” She said laughing “But I came to give you a bit of a heads up” 

Heads up? Why would I need a heads up?

“I think your little club is mad at you?” Shida said to me before a “Good luck”, with that she left

I stood in the middle of the entrance frozen in fear. What did I do? Everyone knows not to piss off the blackpool combat club. Trying to prepare myself for the absolute worst I walked down a few halls until I made it to our private locker room. I knocked on the door, no response, so I knocked again, still nothing. I slowly opened the door and realized it was pitch black in the room, just then I felt someone grab my arm and pull me inside. 

I tried to move, make a sound, but I couldn't. Whoever grabbed me had a tight grab on my wrists from behind with one hand, the other covering my mouth. Still I tried to escape but then I felt it and I realized exactly what was going on. I could feel the hard erection pressed against my ass. My body now was able to relax, just for a moment. Then that’s when I realized that it was Mox who held me, at least I thought it was, I was still in the dark. 

Just then the mystery man let go of me and the bright lights turned on, revealing the entire blackpool combat club. 

“Where were you yesterday?” Mox asked as he slowly approached me, now face to face 

I didn’t know how to respond 

“I’m asking you a question: doll face, where were you?” Mox asked again, voice louder this time 

“Home?” was all I could manage to stay

“That’s just not good enough, you see we don’t appreciate you not joining us yesterday” Danielson said “The BCC we eat, we sleep, we train together. You know this. So why weren't you here yesterday?”

I didn’t know what to say, truthfully I wanted to travel to the show alone today. I was starting to grow a bit uncomfortable at times, I swear Yuta was watching me in the shower the other day. 

“What’s the matter? Cat got ya tongue?” Mox said as he grabbed me once again, pressing my ass against the bulge in his jeans. “You feel that Y/n? This is what you do to me, I’m pretty sure you do this to all of us. I’m going to say this once baby so you better listen. You may be the leader of this club but I will tell you what to do. Part of your job Y/n, will be to help me out with this little problem I have here alright?” 

Just then, Mox gave the others a nod to which Yuta, Claudio and Bryan left the room leaving me and Mox alone. 

What have I gotten myself into?

[icycoldninja]

Hi there! I would just like to thank you for doing my Lies of P request, I absolutely loved it! Thank you again and keep up the good work! 😘 I hope your requests are open. Anyhow, I am back again with another platonic headcannon request with the Sparda boys and V meet with a fem! Reader that is like Sophia from Lies of P (yes I am obssesed with the game, pls help)

Let's say the male reader from my first Lies of P request (Or P) introduced fem!reader and she is absolutely lovely, I mean, think about how the most caring mother would act and you would be pretty close how the fem!reader (or Sophia) acts. (And she really pretty. I mean, look at her)

She helps around as much as she can, but usually stays back from the combat, prefering to stay away and watch, rarely getting into fights. But then, maybe the male!reader is outnumbered and dies. Then fem!reader shows what she can do. She rewound time before the male!reader died. (I know since "rewinding time" other people wouldn't know she did that, but I feel like the boys would just habe a feeling of deja vu like they were here before.) And they ask male!reader if they were here (who is still in his silent past self) so they got no answers from him. But when questioning the fem!reader, she told them she rewound time and then she explained she actually had powers, mainly to talk to puppets, give people strength and the main part, rewinding time when the male!reader dies. (They still think the male reader is human)

Let's say some time passes, and lets say the fem!reader really grew on the boys. Until the faithful day when the male!reader got stabbed and left. (You know the rest) and for some odd reason the fem!reader disappeared a few weeks after the male!reader.

A lot of time passed (Let's say months since I still have no fucking idea how long the game is in it's time.) The male!reader returned but not fem!reader. And now, granted the power of speech, the male!reader explained what happened to her.

Alchemists (basically some crazy ass scientists) discovered the fem!reader had powers and took her away, while the male!reader was off to somehow gain more humanity (by lying) he found out what happened to to her and tried his best to find her, but when he found her, it was too late the alchemists already broke her.

(Her death broke me) in her final moments that were filled with pain, she asked the male!reader if he could kill her and take her egro since she waa in too much pain (basically egro is like sort of magic soul thingy every human in the game had.) And that she wanted to somewhat "be" with him always. He somberly accepted, ending her nightmare and collecting her egro and the magic she had, giving him finally some shred of humanity he yearned for. How would the boys react to this?

Btw, I am so fucking mad Spotify removed Devil Trigger and Bury the light off their app.

Anyways, I hope you have a good day and that you eat and drink and sleep well. Bye! ❤️

Lol no problem, I can see why you're obsessed, it looks fun. P is lowkey adorable and honestly looks like a mini-V. Enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x Sophia-like!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante didn't expect his little buddy P to bring back a girl, thinking said girl was P's girlfriend or something.

-He was so happy when he found out you were single because you had to have been one of the prettiest ladies he'd ever met. Your mannerisms and sweetness made him think you'd be excellent wife material.

-When P got stabbed and then ran off to do his thing, Dante was dismayed to discover you had left a little while after as well, though whether or not you left with him remained to be seen.

-He searched high and low for you for many, many months, but he didn't find you until P came back to inform him that some crazy scientists possibly Hojo's relatives had taken you away to extract your powers.

-Together, the boys went to find you, but when they got there, it was too late. The alchemists had taken everything from you, even most of your body. You were alive, but just barely. It was a miserable existence, so you begged P to take your life force and just end everything already. P wasn't too happy to do this, but it had to be done, so he did.

-Dante was never the same. Every day he'd find himself wandering around aimlessly, staring up at the sky and wondering if you were still watching over him, or if you'd gone to heaven. Maybe you'd have met his mother. Whenever he sees a blue butterfly, Dante can't help but cry because it reminds him of you, and all that he's lost.

■ Vergil ■

-Upon being introduced to you, Vergil found you to be the sweetest, kindest girl he'd ever met.

-He resonated with you, since both of you have this natural parental nature that makes you seem like sage advice givers.

-When P got stabbed and dissappeared, he never thought you would leave a few weeks after. He was hurt that you would just abandon him like that without saying anything, even if you were in a hurry to locate P.

-Vergil searched for you, eventually running into a returning, more human-like P, who told him of the alchemists that had taken you away.

-The guys hurried to find you, but when they arrived, you'd already been stripped of most of your powers, barely clinging onto life. You pleaded with P to take the last of your ergo and release you from your suffering, which he did, somberly.

-Vergil was sure he'd lost the only person in the world who truly understood him for good, and despite all his MOTIVATION, he still managed to fall into depression. He keeps a terrarium of blue butterflies by his bedside at all times, using it to remind himself of the love of his life.

□ Nero □

-Nero didn't expect to be introduced to such a lovely lady by his buddy P, but he wasn't going to refuse.

-You were so nice! It was such a refreshing change of pace to know someone who wasn't crazy, stupid, a deadbeat, or a mixture of the three.

-He was absolutely heartbroken when you ran off after P left. He expected this from the kid, but not from you! He thought you would have enough sense to stay with him so you could look for P together.

-Angry, confused, and scared all at the same time, Nero looked for you and P, running into the latter a little later, who told him of your horrible fate.

-Nero knew that it was hopeless, but he ran to find you anyway. He honestly shouldn't have been surprised by what he saw, yet it still destroyed him to see you like that.

-After P took your ergo and released you from ultimate misery, Nero spent a long time in solitude, just wandering around, talking to butterflies and mourning your loss.

● V ●

-V fell in love with you on first sight. You were the tender, loving, beautiful soul he never knew he needed in his life.

-Both of you sit on the sidelines during fights, but if P is ever gravely wounded in battle, you rewind time for him, which is a disorienting experience, but it's not that bad.

-Was absolutely crushed when you disappeared after P got stabbed. Now is the time when he needs you the most! V went looking for you, but he just didn't have the stamina to keep searching for long.

-P came back, eventually, with grave news. You'd been taken by alchemists who wanted to steal all your powers, and if they didn't hurry and find you soon, it might be too late.

-Unfortunately, it was, for by the time they found you, most of your ergo had already been drained, and what was left was hardly enough to keep you alive for a few more minutes. You begged P to just end it already, much to V's dismay.

-After that, V depended on P more than ever. His darling was gone, and if he didn't have a shoulder to lean on, he might as well die of grief. He may move on, someday, but that day is far, far off in the future.

[n0cturna1-m3]

Stupid Bastard | Bottom Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Top Male Reader | Smut

Fem/Minors DNI

Warnings; Very heated makeout session, dry humping, anal fingering, little big of degradation, kinda dumbification? its implied. anal sex, bareback, lube, rough sex, soft preperation though, no aftercare but they cuddle so, Ghost is probably OOC

Request; "Can you write a ghost x himbo male reader? The reader is in 141 and acts like a himbo always throwing flirty comments at ghosts and teasing him... maybe Simon like goes to their room and smut ensues?"

A/N; Sorry this came out later than expected, i cut off the tip of my thumb lol. ALEJANDRO FIC COMING SOON (hopefully)

About 3.1k words (much longer than expected LMAO

It seemed that Y/N was always fucking with Ghost. That’s how he saw it, at least. Whether it be flirting with him unknowingly or giving him “friendly” remarks over comms, getting handsy with him without understanding the underlying message that was sent to the Lieutenant when he did so.

When he would grab onto the hem of Ghost's shirt, holding it in his fingers, or when he would slide his hand in between his vest and back, the stark difference between their body temperature caused chills to run through his body. It was as if Y/N always had to have some sort of contact with Ghost when they were in the vicinity of one another, but the constant toying was driving the dirty blonde mad. It was starting to affect his performance on the field, and mistakes while in combat were something that he couldn’t afford.

All of this led to Ghost’s failed attempts at talking to Y/N about his touchy nature. It went nowhere.

“You don’t see the problem?” Ghost questioned, leaning forward and borderline glaring at the H/C. “You're joking.”

“You don’t see the problem?” Ghost questioned, leaning forward and borderline glaring at the H/C. “You're joking.”

“No, I’m not!” He threw his hands into the air in defence, shaking his head as if to say ‘I’m being honest.’

“How do you have your position,” He scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose before placing his hands flat on the counter, glowering at Y/N. “You need to stop with the touching. And the flirting”

Y/N cocked his head at him, quirking an eyebrow and looking at him in confusion. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? It’s weird.”

“But I like you.” Ghost stared at him and hung his head, slumping his shoulders and groaning.

“Nevermind,” He said before walking away. Y/N watched him leave as if he expected him to turn around and explain his frustration.

The “intervention” had gotten Ghost nowhere. Y/N had sat next to Ghost at the briefing later in the day, and it allowed him to absentmindedly rest his hand on Ghost's thigh the whole time. It left Ghost standing outside Y/N’s room after showering, unfathomably pissed off and unbearably hard. He knocked twice.

“Uh, give me a minute!” He yelled. Ghost opened and closed his hands that rested at his sides as he waited. He could hear him fumble around behind the door before opening it. He looked dishevelled. His H/C hair was damp from a recent shower and the sweatpants he wore rode down on him, sitting low on his hips, paired with a dark shirt that didn’t fit him well.

“Ghost! What can I do for you?” He asked, opening the door wider and leaning on the frame. Ghost didn’t respond, grabbing his throat instead and walking him back into his room, shutting the door and locking it. He pinned the man against it and leaned into his face, staring at him.

“You know what you’re doing,” Ghost said, tilting his head at him. Y/N blinked at him, saying nothing. “Act as dumb as you want, I don't give a shit. Just-” He eyed Y/N’s body up, stopping at his groyne before meeting Y/N’s eyes again. “I knew it.”

Y/N moaned as Ghost ground his erection on Y/N’s, the H/C’s hands moving to hold Ghost’s hips. Ghost squeezed his throat and grabbed onto Y/N’s forearm with his other hand, his jaw slackening behind his mask.

“Please,” Y/N whimpered, rocking his hips against Ghost. “Simon…”

Ghost let go of Y/N’s throat to lift his balaclava to his nose, promptly pressing his lips to Y/N’s jaw and kissing it. He trailed up to Y/N’s lips and connected them, starting it off sweet and tender, their lips moving in sync with one another, but quickly turned into biting and sucking on the poor H/C’s lips.

He tasted like strawberry chapstick, and it was tearing Ghost apart from the taste. He could eat him alive. Y/N pulled away, huffing slightly to try to catch his breath, and looked down at Ghost who was staring at him with a look that Y/N had only ever seen him wear when a mission went foul. His eyes were dark and half-lidded, eyebrows furrowed and creasing his skin.

Y/N leaned in and kissed Ghost again, snaking his hands back from holding the blonde’s hips to the back of his thighs. He squeezed them tightly and then picked Ghost up, hoisting him onto his hips.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, Y/N!” Ghost exclaimed, his hands shooting up to hold Y/N’s shoulders in a death grip, wrapping his legs around Y/N tightly.

“Sorry,” He replied, walking deeper into his room. Ghost busied himself by sucking on Y/N’s neck, biting and kissing the S/C skin. He wanted to leave as many marks as he could. Not even a turtleneck would cover his handiwork, that much he was certain of. Y/N placed Ghost on the bed, the blonde yanking him down. Y/N barely managed to put his hands out to stop himself from crushing Ghost who had pulled his face in again, biting at his lips while his hands worked on removing Y/N’s shirt. Y/N pulled back to aid in Simon’s efforts, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it elsewhere in the room.

Ghost cupped the back of his neck and jerked him down, kissing him quickly before flipping them both over, and straddling Y/N. He grabbed at Simon’s thighs again, hands shaking slightly as he ground down on Y/N’s clothed erection. Ghost removed his shirt and threw it behind him, his balaclava still covering his face. Oh, how Y/N wished he could gawk at his face again, but he hadn’t shown his face again since the ‘Ghost’ mission.

Y/N ran his hands up Simon’s torso, occasionally pinching at the soft skin. He admired every feature on his body, every curve of muscles and fat, the numerous scars from knives and bullets. His face heated up when he started groping Simon’s chest. Y/N thumbed at his nipples, squeezing his hairy pecs and watching the skin dip beneath his fingers. Ghost let out a breathy groan at the feeling of being fondled, the sound going straight to Y/N’s cock. Ghost sat back a bit, grinding his ass on the man beneath him. His eyes were boring holes into the H/C’s body.

Leaning forward to grab the bottle of lube he spotted on the side table, Ghost struggled to reach it but managed to snatch it. He sat back again, Y/N having moved his hands to hold his waist, and looked down at his face. He was looking up at him with a worried face, his eyebrows furrowed, and his bottom lip bit between his teeth, chewing on it gently. His E/C eyes are almost unnoticeably glossy.

“I don’t-” He started before turning away from Simon, deciding that the wall beside the bed was far more interesting. “Want this to be a one-time thing…”

Simon’s mouth opened and closed as he searched for words while Y/N continued to glare at the wall. His hands had fallen from holding Simon, instead resting with his fingers intertwined over his stomach. The blonde took in a sharp breath.

“Good, I don’t want it to be either,” He said, pulling off his mask and setting it and the lube beside him before cupping Y/N’s face in his hands. “So take me out for lunch tomorrow, yeah?” Y/N looked up at him, his eyes darting around his face in search of a lie, nodding his head upon finding none. Ghost patted his cheek and leaned down to kiss him softly. He hummed in appreciation and wrapped his arms around Simon’s waist again.

He let one of his hands trail down to cup Simon’s ass, loathing the sweats that covered him. Ghost caught on and got off of Y/N and started to remove his pants and boxers, Y/N followed suit and sat up, propping himself on his forearm and reaching out to Ghost with his other arm. Ghost climbed back onto the bed, straddling Y/N’s hips once more.

Popping off the cap to the lube, Ghost poured a generous amount onto his fingers, closing it and tossing it aside as he coated them in the viscous liquid. Y/N watched him with a look that Sumon couldn’t describe quite right. A mix of both adoration and admiration. It had Ghost feeling a little embarrassed, but it wasn’t a bad thing. Quite the opposite.

He brought his hand behind him, the other planting itself firmly on Y/N’s lower stomach, and rubbed his fingers over his entrance.

“Wait,” Y/N said, Ghost looking down at him. He was squeezing his waist tightly. “I wanna do it. Can I?”

Simon’s breath hitched, but he nodded and grabbed the bottle of lube again, handing it to Y/N who eagerly opened it and poured it into his hand, not bothering to close it before tossing it aside. He sat up, forcing Ghost to sit in his lap, and snaked his hand underneath the blonde, pressing the pads of his fingers against his entrance. He slid in his middle finger easily, Ghost sighing at the pressure inside of him and gripping Y/N’s shoulders tightly. Y/N pushed his finger in and out of Ghost slowly, adding a second finger soon after.

At this point, Ghost had his hand covering his mouth. Y/N was spreading him open so carefully, slowly scraping his soft insides with his rough fingers and blunt nails. Y/N didn’t pick up on the impatience that was growing in the man before him. He was enthralled with the tight heat that was enveloping his fingers, entrance squeezing him as he added another. Ghost craned his neck, resting his forehead on Y/N’s shoulder as he curled his fingers and spread them again. He held Y/N’s bicep in a vice grip, digging his fingernails into the flesh as he panted against Y/N’s hot skin.

The little breathy moans that were barely audible fueled Y/N. His cock twitched from lack of stimulation, but his pleasure was not a priority. He was focused solely on Simon, who had begun rocking his hips back on Y/N’s fingers slowly.

He picked up the pace of his gentle movements, opting to thrust into him harder, curling his fingers as he went, subsequently massaging his prostate. Ghost was grunting quietly and buried his mouth into the crook of Y/N’s neck, biting to silence himself while the other held his upper back to keep him stable. Ghost closed his eyes tight, letting go of the H/C’s neck and turning to kissing and sucking hickeys onto the S/C skin again. Y/N was working him open so well, every button in him being pressed, every switch pulled. It was intoxicating.

Ghost bit Y/N’s Adam's apple lightly, sucking a hickey on it after. He dug his fingers into Y/N’s H/C hair and pulled his head back, the latter pausing his movements and looking into Simon’s eyes.

“Stop fucking with me. Put it in,” He demanded, pulling the (Hair Type) tight to assert his point. Y/N moaned at the tension and nodded, sliding his fingers out of the man on top of him. He groaned at the feeling of being empty, but he pushed it aside and reached for the discarded bottle, sitting back and squirting a large amount of it onto Y/N’s aching cock. He gasped at the feeling, huffing as Ghost jerked him off a couple of times to spread it evenly.

Laying back again, Y/N placed his hands on Simon’s thighs and glanced up at him through his eyelashes, E/C eyes meeting Simon’s own. He held the base of Y/N’s dick and adjusted himself to press the tip to his entrance. He slowly lowered himself, pausing after about two inches were inside him. He spread his hands over Y/N’s stomach and hung his head as he sank further onto Y/N’s dick. His hair fell over his face, mouth agape, and his chest heaving with deep, raggedy breaths.

Y/N reached up and cupped Simon’s jaw, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. He trailed back to grasp the back of his neck, carefully pulling him down to connect their lips again. The action caused Ghost to take Y/N into him completely, bottoming out while their chests pressed together. The blonde let out a hearty moan from deep in his chest, it is swallowed by Y/N’s mouth promptly after. Y/N’s hands moved down Simon’s body slowly, resting on either of his asscheeks and gripping them tightly, spreading them and adjusting himself to carefully thrust up into Simon’s tight hole.

“Ah, fuck!” He groaned, pulling away from Y/N to sit up again, grinding against Y/N. He carefully lifted himself up and down, panting quietly with his eyes shut tight.

The way he rocked his hips allowed Y/N’s cock to brush his prostate. The lack of a condom allowed Ghost to feel every inch of Y/N scraping inside of him. Every vein, the burning heat, the little twitches when he clenched around him.

Y/N was looking at him hazily, his eyes drifting around Simon’s body and eventually stopping upon meeting his gaze.

Ghost grunted as Y/N pulled him to his chest and flipped them over, still very much inside of him. Y/N kissed his collarbone.

“Oh, fuck! Not even a warning?!” Ghost moaned and slapped the back of Y/N’s head, pulling his hair to view his face. He bottomed out as Simon’s legs wrapped around him loosely.

“I’m sorry, Simon,” He whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth and cheek, burying his face in his neck again. Ghost grunted in response, running his hands over Y/N’s sweaty back and enjoying the feeling of his muscles under his fingertips.

“Keep going hard like that…” He muttered. It was just barely loud enough for Y/N to hear, immediately sat back and pulled out, flipping Ghost onto his stomach and lifting his lower half.

“Bear with me a moment,” Y/N said, reaching something that Ghost couldn’t see. He had his face buried in a pillow to hide his embarrassment of having his ass on display for the other man. Y/N squirted more lube onto Simon’s twitching entrance, shoving his cock in after. Ghost dug his fingers into the pillow and moaned deeply. The new angle allowed Y/N to fuck him deeper and harder, his prostate being stimulated while his own cock rubbed between his stomach and the bedsheets.

Y/N had Ghost laid flat on the bed, ass angled up with his legs spread while he thrusted into him with fervour. Y/N sat back a little and pulled Ghost somewhat into his lap, his face still buried in the pillow with his chest to the bed. Y/N held his hips tight in his hands as his hips slapped against Simon’s thick ass.

Ghost was nearly screaming into the pillow, tears brewing in his brown eyes as he bit the fabric between his teeth. It became wet with his saliva quickly, soon with a few tears that shed from the overwhelming pleasure he was receiving. Y/N snaked his hand around Simon’s front, grabbing his cock that was weeping pre-cum and began stroking it quickly.

“Aug!- Fuck, Y/N!” He cried, fisting the sheets and pillow as his legs shook.

“Ah, don’t squeeze too tight, I’ll cum,” Y/N said, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. Ghost moaned in response, bucking his hips into Y/N’s hand. He leaned forward and began planting kisses along Simon’s shoulders and upper back, engraving every sound he made into his mind.

“Cum- cumming!” Ghost moaned, muffled by the pillow between his teeth. Y/N let go of his hip and reached for him, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him up onto his knees. Y/N tilted his head and kissed him, holding his jaw while keeping up the pace of his thrusts and hand movements. Ghost dug his nails into Y/N’s skin as he came, his eyes rolling back and mouth opening in a silent scream. He jerked him off a few more times, slowing his thrusts until he stopped.

Cum coated Y/N’s hand, placing Ghost back on the bed and pulling out of him. Ghost turned over and looked at Y/N who was licking his hand clean of his cum.

“You’re disgusting,” He said, reaching for Y/N’s dick and holding it. Y/N moaned as Ghost stroked him a few times before sitting up slightly and moving to be in front of it.

Y/N watched in awe as Ghost took him into his mouth, sucking on the tip and slowly taking more down his throat while his hands fondled his balls and stroked what he couldn’t take inside his mouth. Y/N came quickly, coating Simon’s tongue in the bitter liquid. He pulled off of him with a sour face.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” Y/N said, cupping his hand in front of Simon’s face so he could spit out his semen. He did so, glaring at Y/N in the process. “I really am! I forgot to tell you.”

“I’m never sucking you off again.” Y/N whined at Simon’s statement, wiping his hand off on the sheets and working it off, leaving the fitted sheet and a thick blanket. Ghost laid down, turning away from Y/N and stealing most of the blanket.

Throwing the disgusting mess of sheets onto the floor, Y/N turned off the light and crawled under the blanket and pressed his chest against Simon’s back. He wrapped his arms around him, one hand resting over his heart.

“Goodnight, Simon,” Y/N whispered, kissing the back of his neck and staying there.

He hummed, taking Y/N’s hand in his and choosing to ignore the feeling of Y/N smiling against his skin.

[mr-bas00nist]

My Masterlist

IM BACK!!! I write for all these lovely fandoms! I’m a bi (prefer men) man so usually male reader and preferably dom but I’ll occasionally do sub reader 😁. No smut for minors but I will write platonic for them. No bodily functions kinks like scat or piss, no fem reader! Anyways, great to be back. Love yall! Requests open!!!

Moamen’s Family!!!🍉🇵🇸

Shaima’s family!!! 🍉🇵🇸

Karam’s Family!!! 🍉🇵🇸

Roba’s Family!!! 🍉🇵🇸

Mahmoud’s Family!!!🍉🇵🇸

Mohammed’s Family!!!🍉🇵🇸

Aya’s Family!!!🍉🇵🇸

Hamdi’s Family!!!🍉🇵🇸

I mainly write for: 

SkullGirls

Resident Evil

Chris Redfield

Albert Wesker

Leon S. Kennedy

Luis Sera

Dead By Daylight

Pyramid Head

Danny Johnson

David 👑

Trapper

The Oni

Call Of Duty

König

Alejandro Vargas: Dom! Male! Reader

Ghost

141 x Mysterious! Male! Reader

141 x Greek! Male! Reader who’s crazy drunk

Phillip Graves X Male reader smut

Madness Combat

MGS

Venom Snake

Liquid Snake x male reader smut

Raiden X male reader fluff

JJK

Nanami Kento 🫶🏼

Gojo Satoru

Toji x male reader smut

Random Writes:

Patrick Bateman Smut: Dom Male Reader

I’ll write for every character too but if it’s a minor than no smut but platonic is allowed.

So uh yeah see y’all around, bae’s account @waffleurz

[allzelemonz]

The Runner: Sean MacGuire X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader is referred to as ‘man’ Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Language, drinking Warnings: The gang is drunk, no mention of the reader drinking or not, Sean is touchy, kissing, lap sitting, babysitting drunk friends Summary: Drunk Sean is a runner.

There are a few types of drunks in the Van Der Linde Gang. Most are silly and happy, even Micah makes jokes and laughs. A few are story-tellers, more sentimental than anything. Dutch may be the most prominent, telling his adopted sons how much he loves them throughout the night. But there is a third type of drunk in the gang, a type with only one that fits into it.

The runner.

Sean MacGuire is a runner. In camp, it’s not so much of a problem. He wants to be chased and Lenny is happy to play tag with him, Arthur may join in and drag John along. It’s fun and games at camp, but it’s a nightmare at saloons. After a certain number of drinks you really have to watch him. He slips away so easily and he enjoys the frustration it brings you. If you let him run there is no doubt that he will get arrested. The most effective way to combat his drunken desire to run is to keep a physical hold on him in some way. Trapping his hand in yours or keeping a tight arm around his waist. Arthur has used a leash before, but Sean has escaped those like a crafty toddler.

This town is very relaxed, very casual, so you keep Sean in your lap this time. When he’s with you and he’s not running, he’s very touchy anyway. You relax into your seat and Sean doesn’t seem to want to run tonight since he can happily sit on your lap and kiss along your neck with his hands in your hair. He’ll occasionally pull away to talk to Lenny or join one of Uncle’s unprompted songs, but he’ll always come back with a sloppy kiss pressed to whatever skin he can get at.

Then he has to go outside to relieve himself. You follow him, you’re not stupid. He leans against the wall as he goes, you stand a few feet away.

“You wanna go back to camp?” Sean slurs as he refastens his pants. “Been teasin’ me all night, love.”

“You did that to yourself.”

Sean laughs. “Well you weren’t lettin’ me have fun, had to make my own!”

Then he gets that look in his eye.

“Sean, no.”

It’s too late. He takes off towards the street and you chase after him. Sean is a fast bastard, annoyingly fast. He’s out of sight by the time you reach the street. He could be anywhere. Then there’s a loud crash from behind one of the shops. You run towards it and find Sean laid out among the debris of some boxes and grain. The windows in the shop light up and you scramble to get Sean on his feet before you’re met with the familiar angry shop owner wielding a shotgun.

He groans as you stand him up. “I didn’t do that. It was like that when I found it.”

“Shut up, Sean.”

“Ya mad at me, big man?”

You get him across the street and out of sight of the shop, pressing him back against the wall of another building. “Stop running.”

“But I like when ya chase me.”

He grips at your gunbelt and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s sloppy and he tastes like whiskey, but you cup his cheek and kiss him back.

“Sean!” Arthur calls. “Sean, my boy!”

Arthur’s drunk too.

You pull away from Sean, making sure to get a tight grip on his hand before walking back towards the saloon.

Arthur cheers. “I found ya, Sean!”

Behind him, Uncle is swaying on his feet with a bottle in his hand.

“Arthur?” You ask.

He hums.

“Where’s Lenny?”

Arthur looks around, finding no sign of the young man. “Lenny!”

“Okay.” You sigh. “I’m gonna take Sean back. Try not to get arrested.”

“Lenny!” Arthur yells, slurring much more than the first time.

You pull Sean along to the horses. Arthur stumbles back into the saloon, yelling for Lenny. Uncle follows him, nearly tripping as he walks inside. They’re gonna get arrested. At least you got Sean under control.

[harmlesspotato20]

BLLK | Ego Jinpachi - the man you made.

❝┋ ego jinpachi x levi! reader

Anri was so surprised , shocked , aghast , amazed , astonished stunned, horrified , you say it when she found out the vector looks slender man has a wife. After first she thought he Ego was fooling her for April fools but surprise , surprise! it's not even April.

Anri was like : Him? This guy? This fucking emo had a wife? that too soo beautiful. Jinpachi Ego was watching the soccer clips when Ari came in to see him room all dark and few cups of noodles lying around.

She sighed knowing how this guy was and was concerned for his health. That's when she saw Ego eating food , a homemade food - not junk with rainbow and stars around him , happily. Well not that his expression read but his aura tells otherwise. 

So naturally she assumed Ego bought it from a good restaurant due to it's good smell that even made her hungry. "When did you go out and buy it?" she asked , hands on her hip. She wasn't angry. She was at least relaxed that he ate other than cup noodles.

"My wifey gave it." Ego let him tongue slip. Well not that he cared. He was busy enjoying his dear food. That's when the red haired girl heard the door swing open as she looked back to see a short yet beautiful woman.

"Oh.. good morning darling." Ego calmly greeted despite the mess in his room. 

Almost at the height of 5'2 or '3 , with your resting bitch face , you made your way towards your husband and gave him your tea. You made him tea everyday. and Ego never denied it. He loved it. When you ask him how's it he would reply like, "acceptable." making you mad.

"Don't 'good morning' me Jin, I swear to god , four eyes , if you don't help me clean after this , I'm throwing football on your face." your cold voice said as you placed two tea on his desk and swiped out under the table with your finger.

"Tsk , look at the dust!" you showed him your finger. "Oh.." He looked you straight in the eyes under his glasses and turned around like nothing happened. "Agh.." you started tying your hair to clean the room when Ego interrupted you.

"Don't stress yourself darling , Anri-chan will clean it." Ego nonchalantly said it in a calm and relaxed manner making Anri turn angry as irk mark appeared on her forehead. Did he fucking think that she is his maid?! how dare this man!?

"I'll be leaving now , excuse me..." Anri said a sadistic smile at Ego and left the room giving the couple privacy. "Tch , she isn't your babysitter to clean your shit up. be a man and get off!!"! you pulled Ego's hands after he finished eating.

He groaned and just pulled you into his lap , making you sit on him. "Jin.." you muttered death glaring at him. You looked at his face and saw how he changed over time. You you both met at sports college , this man had no idea of romance. Same goes to you.

When he classmates asked him if he had a crush on someone , he would be like what's crush? new instant noodle brand? But everything changed when you had to clean up the sports room. 2 members of any team would be assigned randomly to do the fair task.

And that fine day it was Jinpachi Ego and Y/N Ackerman. You both didn't even know each other but you would scold him for lazing around and not cleaning it properly. In a weird way , it caught his attention. He learnt that you were from combat sport team.

Just like a fucking weirdo , he would never talk to you directly or approach you but just stare at you. Just sit and stareeeee. Jinpachi was not that dumb head , he knew half of the male population in his college like you for your physical appearance.

And he knew how you would reject them like a cruel princess what everyone termed it to be. One lucky day , he saw you watching his football team practice. It was like girls verses boys. Your eyes were fixed on a female who played so good.

She was Mikasa Ackerman. It wouldn't take a genius to find out that she was related to you looking at both your last names. Junpachi paused for a moment. Why was he thinking about you do deeply?

His teammates said that he liked you. Like? what's that? Look Jinpachi hardly had any friends due to his personality clashing against those teen souls. But he had few good people around him though.

At the same evening , he saw you teaching your cousin — Mikasa to play football. The new good tricks you taught to you , as you demonstrated first and sending the spherical black and white ball to goal.

And oh boy , man fell in love , —deep , fell for you hook, line and sinker. This was not one-sided attraction no. When watching the match your eyes would glance at the black haired male named Ego. That day accidently you heard him give a big ass speech about strikers to his coach.

And that day you discovered , his love for football. This aroused your curiosity. Ego being fucking weirdo did nothing but stared at you in lunch when he heart thumped against his chest. You were fed up and walked near his table where he sat alone.

"Oi brat." you called him making him look at you and pause. You showed him 2 packet of cup noodles in your hand. "Want to eat together?" you asked. And that day my friends ,  Ego fell again. He had zero facial expression but his ears were red.

You both start spending your lunches and cleaning together. He slowly started helping you in cleaning too. You looked at his eyes , dark black and void. You complimented his eyes looking like a mysterious cosmic. And he fell again , thrice.

The first time he saw you smile was when you saw convenient cleaning goods. He notices how you always seems like you don't care with Hanji but you do. You were far from cold and uncaring person.

You would glare at a fanboy or girl or tsk you way away if something was unsanitary. Would be so shut off and cold with everyone except your one friend Hanji. People call you selfish and rude. A bit tsundere but a total softie inside.

And This skinny yet tall, pale man names ego , was an ambitious and overly confident man. Beneath that ambition however, is something even more sinister as he puts the emphasis in "ego" as he is shown to be an extremely egotistical, cruel, and self-serving man.

He never wastes an opportunity to tell his mates the cold truth about themselves and their reality, either seeping them into further despair or inspiring them with his cold hearted truth. A mean boy. This is the man you met.

Just imagine your college mates lowkey scared of you both and now you are dating. This place about to blow. Two prideful people dating in a room? Nah the tension is making them tremble. Too much to handle.

It was you who confessed first , and was like "Oi you brat , let's go on a date." and yeah you didn't ask but said. Ego agreed and you both would spend your time in ramen shop or library where he just looked at you reading history books.

Neither you or Ego were good with PDA so it was much better in private. You made the first move obviously. And started off with you making him tea and asking him if he ate anything and holding hands when you just real books.

You would give a quick peck on his cheek and run away. You both dated for almost 9 years and Ego grew more fine with your relationship. He was definitely not that good with his words and actions to show how he loved you but it improved overtime.

He started off with calling you darling. He never said "I love you" in front of you but did when you fall asleep , he would kiss your forehead and be with you. He knows how light sleeper you are and helps you with it with just caressing his thumb over your knuckles to calm you down.

Ego somehow managed to get his shit together and propose to you. You were so polite and quite. And just said "only if you help me clean and drink tea with me everyday" Ego took it as a yes. Ego works almost all the time and barely gets a chance to spend with you.

"Did you get sleep darling?" Ego asked looking into game clips as your head rested on his shoulder. "Yes." you answered , you did sleep for two hours. Better than nothing. Ego looked at your face as saw you almost tired from all the work you do.

"I see." he nodded placing his one hand on top of your head and other holding your waist. With or without conversation, you're still the only one Ego wants. He kissed the crown of your head , holding your head softly like a fragile glass.

He looked down again to see you almost asleep. You eye lids edging to close and when it did he heard your soft little snored and your body going unconscious in his hold. He knew how you insist him to take rest.

He switched off his systems and placed his head on top of yours. Ego rubbed your shoulder in comfort and whispered watching you sleep. "Sleep well my darling..."  And this is the man you made. 

the end.  please don’t mind the grammar mistakes. original post : my Wattpad account.