#my brain is a whole mess ( not from this ) pls I just want this one person to talk to me ONLY THIS ONE PERSON RN but they won’t SIGH

[kavehater]

AAAH I have a mutual who’s 18 and he sorta kinda is flirting with this one guy who is a minor as a joke of course ( to which a concerned anon said that it’s weird ) but I can’t help but flashback to er*s

[pedrito-friskito]

hey kay bb!! hope you're doing well 💖

mando has been on the brain lately so i'm requesting fluffy smut with him pls 🥺😫 (the yearning is *extra* today)

niiiiiiiiik my darling my dear hope you are also well 💗

ok…this got away from me. I blinked and suddenly a plot! exposition! SMUT! (multiple scenes at that) all the things. I’m a slut for Din Djarin and it really jumped out on this one.

(smut below the cut, a full plot, the helmet comes off, a bit of inexperienced!din, reader is kind of a bad ass, descriptions of bodies, unprotected p-in-v sex - wrap ur shit even if ur in space ok)

sleepover saturday

uncharted territory

(word count 9.1k - it REALLY got away from me okay)

gif by @aceofwhump

Then you are a Mandalorian no more.

Din Djarin aches in a way he has never felt before, much more powerful than any injury he could ever sustain. His Creed, demolished. His son, gone. His life, upended. As he staggers out of the Covert, trying to think of where to go next, he cannot shake the feeling of lost that settles around his shoulders like a cloak.

Maybe coming to Glavis was a mistake; maybe he should have stayed back on Nevarro, kept taking jobs from Karga until he finally had enough credits to take the old man’s advice, get himself a camtono full of spice and disappear into the Twi’lek healing baths until he forgot the whole thing.

The truth of it? He knew he could never forget. There wasn’t enough spice in the galaxy to help him forget it all. It wasn’t possible. And the larger part was that Din didn’t want to forget.

His leg aches as he walks. The bacta Paz had sprayed him down with had helped some, but the ache runs deep, and the drills the Armourer had forced him to run with the Darksaber had only made matters worse. He should find a place to lie down, to hide for the night before he decides what he plans to do next, where he plans to go.

Where will he go?

You are a Mandalorian no more.

The echo of the words make his head split, and for a moment, he has half a mind to wrench the helmet off, to launch it off the ring, let space swallow the beskar whole. But he stops himself; it feels as though his armour is all he has left.

His armour, and the Darksaber. The right to the throne of Mandalore.

Maker, he can’t think straight. The ache only worsens, his limp more prominent, and it gets to the point where he can take no more. He falls onto the nearest crate, his injured leg stuck straight out in front of him. His body feels twice as heavy, his head even more so, and he tips it back against the wall to lighten the load. He’ll rest just a moment, he’ll just shut his eyes for one—

“Mando?”

Din pulls his blaster from his holster as his eyes shoot open. There’s the sound of shuffled steps, something metallic hitting the floor, a murmured dank farrik! He hits a button on his vambrace, turns off the thermal setting on his visor.

“Sweets?”

You look exactly the same as he remembers. It’s been ages, but he could never forget your face. He knows what’s underneath your clothes, too, and the memory speeds to the surface of his mind faster than a pod-racer.

+

Before he had an in with Peli on Tatooine, the Razor Crest routinely parked and tuned up in Hangar 3-5, he had you. You were well-known within the Guild, had more than a few contracts with different gangs and hunters in the galaxy. If something on a ship broke, you were the one to fix it, and you had enough heavily-armed thugs on your side to make anyone think twice about trying to mess with you.

Some called you the Mechanic, simple and descriptive. Others, those you let a little closer, knew you as Sweets, a moniker earned by your penchant for candies and treats. You’d let your favoured clients off easy if they were short a few credits, but had something sweet from the far reaches of the galaxy to offer in lieu of the missing cash.

Din knew he was one of your favoured clients, perhaps your favourite. Or, had been. You’d crowed endlessly about the Crest, desperate to get your hands on it any time he hauled it in for service, whether it actually needed it or not. Sometimes he genuinely needed something fixed, some times he’d found some candy or sweet in a far off corner of the galaxy that he’d brought back just for you.

Other times, he just wanted to see you.

You were sweet in other ways, too. He knew first-hand. And he knew he was the only client you let into your bed. He’d been drawn to you the first time you’d been introduced — a common contact between you and Din sent him your way when the Crest was in serious need of a tune-up, and you were the closest mechanic he could get to without doing more damage to the ship.

Your knowledge astounded him, to start. You were barely into a diagnostic and you knew exactly what needed to be fixed, what parts you had and didn’t, how many credits it was going to cost him. And you hadn’t even set foot on the ship yet. Your competency drove him wild, only spurred on when he brought you aboard the Crest to give the interior a once-over, eager to see if he’d kept everything original, or if you had any modifications to offer that he might be interested in. Din followed you around the ship silently, answering whatever questions you had, mostly just watching you work. It was intriguing beyond belief.

“That’s not much of a bed,” you’d commented, cocking your head to the side when you hit the button that opened the bunk. “When’s the last time you had a new mattress?”

He just shrugged.

“One thing you should know,” you said over your shoulder, descending the Crest’s ramp, heading back towards the entrance to your shop. “I don’t use droids.”

Din nearly fell over. “That’s not a problem.”

“Good,” you replied, tapping at your data pad, your brow scrunching. “It’ll take longer than your usual hangar; I do everything myself.”

“I’m happy to wait,” he said, dipping his helmet, thankful it was hiding the way he was raking his eyes over you. I don’t use droids. Had someone made you in a lab somewhere, on some backwater planet, just for him? “I know she’s in good hands.”

The grin you’d offered him was sweeter than anything he’d ever seen, and you shooed him out a moment later, muttering something about getting back to work.

When he returned three days later to retrieve his ship, he almost didn’t recognize it. You’d repainted most of the outside panels, replaced all the ones that were missing, and the engines were so shiny Din could see his helmet reflected in them. Inside the Crest was another story; you’d outfitted him with a carbonite cell system, top of the line and primed for use. That meant no more mouthy bounties, no more wasting durasteel cuffs and gags when he could just hit a button and have a quiet ride back to the Guild.

And in the bunk, a new mattress, complete with a pillow, and bolted on the wall, a mount for his helmet.

“You don’t sleep with that thing on, do you?”

“The carbonite system,” he nearly sputtered, rubbing a gloved hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t have the credits, I didn’t—”

You poked the toe of his boot with your own. “Call it a gift, Mando. Let’s just say I shouldn’t have had the thing hanging around to begin with.”

“Is that gonna cause me any problems?”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the p. “Wiped all the identification numbers from the system. No one will know where it came from. Except you.”

He stared at you a long moment. “Except me.”

He was sure to pay you in full, plus the candied flowers he’d found at one of the vendors in the markets. You’d smiled again at that, and while Din committed the sight to memory, he also promised himself that he wouldn’t let it be long before he saw your smile again.

And he kept that promise. The next time he landed the Crest in your hangar, it wasn’t because he needed a tune-up or new parts. He’d struck gold at a black market on Coruscant; his bounty had lead him into the belly of a sweet shop, and after the Gungan had been dealt with, Din did some hunting of his own. He took as many boxes as he could carry, trying to take one of each flavour, a few extra of the ones he’d seen on the shelf in your shop.

“What in Maker’s name are you doing here?” you’d called as soon as he landed, stepping out of the shop and into the hangar, your hands on your hips, cocked to one side. “You ruin my handiwork that fast?”

“Not exactly,” he’d replied, walking down the ramp, his arms laden with goodies. Your eyes had gone huge. “I come bearing gifts.”

“For me?” you cried, gasping as you took the boxes from him, tongue poking between your teeth. “Mandalorian, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were flirting with me.”

He’d never been so grateful for his helmet at that exact moment. He might have crumbled to dust if you’d seen how red his cheeks were. “I-I owed you,” he stuttered out, “for the carbonite.”

“You didn’t owe me anything,” you quipped, swaying from side to side on your feet, staring down at your treats. “I told you, it was a gift.” You gave him one of those smiles again, and Din felt his stomach twist at the glitter in your eyes. “Why don’t you stay a while? I’ll feed you and everything.”

You disappeared into the shop, and Din paused a moment before following.

He saw you disappear behind a dark curtain that had definitely seen better days, and Din followed your further to discover there was an apartment of sorts attached to the shop. Apartment was perhaps too kind a word; it was one large room, a kitchen to one side, a large futon spread in the middle. Trunks and boxes and crates stacked along the far wall, a few grease-stained jumpsuits littering the floor. You stumbled over your feet trying to pick them up, tossing the offending fabric into a nearby crate, before you turned back to him. “What are you hungry for?”

You served him first. Noodles with dark sauce and some kind of shredded meat you thought was bantha but weren’t quite sure. But, as you stated with a shrug, “it’s good, and it hasn’t killed me yet.” After you slid the bowl across the table to him, you turned back to the stove and stayed that way. After a moment, Din wasn’t sure what to do, but then your head turned slightly, your eyes trained directly to the left, not wandering towards him over your shoulder. “I won’t look. Swear.”

He lifted the helmet just enough to shovel the food into his mouth. You were right, the mystery meat was good, and the sauce you’d made to go with it was even better. He nearly inhaled the food, not wanting to keep you too long, and when the helmet slid back down, the mechanism hissing back into place, your head turned again, still not looking at him.

“You’re safe,” he said, sliding his empty bowl back across the table.

You turned fully, serving yourself, and he expected you to sit across from him, keeping a bit of distance between you, but instead, you rounded the table and plunked yourself down on the stool right beside him. You ate much slower than he had, and Din let his eyes graze over you. The streak of engine grease on your cheek, the scar that split your lower lip, the intricately messy way you wore your hair. A silver chain sat around your throat, strung with a tiny silver ring. It disappeared down the front of your shirt most of the time, but right then it sat awkwardly, the chain caught on your collar, the ring sitting in the hollow of your throat. He resisted the urge to reach out and fix it.

The jumpsuit you wore was nearly identical to the ones you’d hurriedly swiped off the floor. Torn on one knee, zipper unfurling beneath your chest, a symbol he didn’t recognize patched onto your thigh. You’d tied the sleeves around your waist like a belt, a dirty rag tucked in at your hip. The Mechanic, herself. Sweets.

He thought you were beautiful. He had a feeling you’d look beautiful in anything.

Or nothing.

Din was distracted by your thumb at your lips, swiping a drop of sauce from your chin and sucking your finger into your mouth. His flight-suit was tight beneath his beskar to begin with, and you weren’t helping matters. “So,” you said simply, reaching for your food again. “Tell me a story, Mando. A good one. Best bounty you ever caught.”

The conversation filtered between you two easily. You were a good listener, easy to talk to, and Din felt like he couldn’t stop talking to you, telling you about his first kill, his first bounty. His first ship, before the Crest. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you about the before, before the Guild, before he was just the Mandalorian, when he was just Din Djarin. A foundling. Part of him wondered what you think, what your reaction might be to his past, but a larger part forced his mouth shut.

At some point, he turned himself towards you on his stool, one arm braced on the table, the other resting on his thigh. After you finished your food, you leaned heavily on the table, your head pushed into your palm, legs crossed at your ankles, swinging slowly, the toe of your boot tapping his shin every once in a while.

He could see you were tired, the way you started covering your yawns and rubbing at your eyes. “I should go,” he said, starting to get to his feet. “You’re tired, and I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

Your hand flashed out quick — not quick enough to startle him, though — and wrapped around his wrist. You’d managed to wedge your fingers right into the space where his glove met his vambrace, and he felt you against his pulse, against his bare skin. “You don’t have to leave, Mando.”

Din. He wanted to tell you. My name is Din.

Slowly, his own hand reached out, hovering in the air, shaking more than a vibroblade. He saw your eyes trace its path, watching until it lowered, dropped until the flat of his palm met the curve of your thigh. His gloved fingers wrapped around the meat of your leg, his thumb pressing towards the inside. 

He heard you gasp. 

He moved forward an inch, and his hand moved higher, thumb riding the seam of your jumpsuit. You hummed, fingered squeezing around his wrist, and Din moved closer, until he had one leg between yours. He let his hand wander higher, listening carefully to the changes in your breathing, the hitch in your throat. The heat between your legs was almost stifling, and something feral in the back of his brain screamed for more.

Whatever snapped in him, it seemed to break in you at exactly the same time. You both shot to your feet together, and Din’s hands moved to your waist, to where your sleeves were knotted at your waist. Yours roamed his chest plate, fingers tapping along beskar until you hooked them in his cloak. He halted his own hands, ready to help you remove the fabric, but you handled it just fine on your own, finding the hidden snaps with ease.

His blood turned to flame when he felt your fingers along his throat, seeking his pulse in another spot. “You should stay,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a murmur. “Please, Mando, I want you to stay.”

He forced himself to nod, his mind now preoccupied with ripping his gloves from his hands. He needed to feel you, no barriers in between.

He needed to see you, something in him screamed, no barriers in between.

He silenced that voice before it could spur him further. Busied himself with diving his hand beneath the waist of the jumpsuit, the broken zipper catching on his wrist. You were even hotter beneath, and he sucked down a breath when he found you wet, slick coating his fingers.

Your body leaned into him, chasing his touches, and he hooked his other hand around your thigh, lifting you up and backwards onto the table. He could feel you watching, your eyes moving from his helmet down his front, to where his hand was jammed beneath the jumpsuit. He crooked one finger, testing, pressing it into you, and grinned beneath his helmet when you moaned.

Din hooked his arm under your waist, lifting you just enough that he could maneuver the jumpsuit over your hips, down your legs. His cock jolted between his legs at the sight of you bare, leaned back on the table, your chest heaving. Even though the visor, he could see how slick you were, the evidence shining on the insides of your thighs.

He wanted to taste you.

He pushed the thought away again. Another time, when he wasn’t smearing the inside of his flight-suit with precum, when you weren’t keening into his touch as he dragged his fingers against the sensitive skin between your legs, when he could turn the lights off and shed his armour, bare himself to you the same way.

You moaned again when his fingers found your clit, drawing a sloppy circle that had your muscles tensing against his hand, knees closing against his hips. “F-fuck, Mando,” you ground out, tipping your head back on your shoulders. “You’re good with those hands.” Another stuttered breath as he twisted his wrist, curling two fingers just inside your entrance, thumb stretching up to swipe over your clit. “Really good.”

He was grinning beneath the helmet again, eyes glued to your face as he pressed further, fingers threading deeper into you. He could feel everything, the twitch of your thighs, the clench of your cunt. You reached out with one hand, using the other to balance yourself, and closed it around his elbow, your fingers digging into the thick fabric so hard he was shocked your nails didn’t bite right through.

“How do you like it, Sweets?” he asked, leaning forward until he was nearly hovering over you. Your hand moved from his elbow to chest, fingers hooked in his armour. “Tell me what you need.”

Your hand moved again, this time moving straight down his front, past his waist, right between his legs. His cock throbbed as you palmed him, a cat-like grin on your lips as you tilted your head level with the visor. You leaned up slightly, pressed your lips to the beskar edge that mirrored his jaw. Another squeeze, and the slow pace of his fingers faltered, his head nearly smacking into yours. “I need this.”

Din couldn’t hold back anymore. Something in the way you stared up at him, eyes tracing over the helmet, told him you didn’t want him to.

“I like it rough.”

It all happened in one fluid motion. He pulled you closer, right off the edge of the table, and you spun in his grip, leaning forward over the table, planting your hands flat. The jumpsuit slid further towards your ankles and you arched your back, your ass grinding against his hardness, and Din groaned audibly, tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your legs spread as much as the jumpsuit would allow, and Din worked his own zipper down, freeing himself from the flight-suit. You made the most delicious noise as the tip of his cock smacked against your ass, the tip dripping with precum.

Your head turned as he took himself in hand, tapping your ass with his cock again. “Maker,” you breathed out, your eyes widening. “I knew you’d be big.”

Beneath the helmet, Din turned crimson.

He planted his other hand between your shoulders, tipping you forward. You went willingly, eyes rolling back as he pushed his hips against your ass. He could see how wet you were as you bent, slick still dripping down your thighs.

There was nothing stopping him from dropping to his knees right then and there, lifting the helmet just enough to drag his tongue through your cunt. The thought alone made his cock pulse.

But then your hand reached back, twisting in the fabric covering his hip, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He bent his knees slightly, notching himself at your entrance, and pushed inside.

The noise you let out was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there. He knew he wasn’t gonna last, and judging by the sounds you continued to make and the way you were bearing down on him, hands clenched into fists on the tabletop, he didn’t think you were either. He set a fast pace, the space filling with the slick sound of him driving in and out of you, your moans echoing each move. Din’s gaze dropped, trained on the sight of his cock disappearing to you. Your hand flapped at his hip, scrabbling for purchase, and he wrapped his fingers around your forearm, groaning when you did the same.

He was right; you didn’t last long, and neither did he. Your entire body clenched as you came, one hand slamming against the table, nails digging deep into his wrist. It spurred his own orgasm, that coil at the base of his spine snapping, and he pulled out, cumming hard across the curve of your ass.

Silence settled over the both of you as you caught your breath. Din couldn’t help himself, rubbing his bare fingers over the expanse of your back, tracing over your spine. You arched a bit into his touch, making a satisfied noise before you lifted yourself off the table. You turned to him, leaned up to press a hot kiss to his bare throat. It made him shiver.

“Think we could do that again?” you murmured, lifting a finger and dragging it along the edge of his helmet. “Maybe you take all the metal off.”

Din cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched, already wanting a second round. “Helmet stays on.”

You stared at him a long moment, smile on your lips. “Helmet stays on.”

+

He kept close to you after that night. He rarely took bounties that took him to further reaches of the galaxy, loathe to admit that he was always within a few parsecs of your hangar. He brought you a long-distance commlink so he could tell you when he was coming back, so you could contact him if you ever needed him. He didn’t worry about you, per se; you were more than capable of taking care of yourself, and he knew for a fact you knew how to shoot the blaster you kept holstered on your thigh when he wasn’t around.

But then the comm went quiet. He called, you didn’t answer. A lead weight formed in his stomach, and he pushed the Crest’s engines are fast as they’d go. Carefully, though — he wouldn’t dare ruin any of your handiwork.

When he landed in the hangar, the lights were all off. It didn’t help his worry, and it only grew worse as he sprinted off the Crest, heading straight for the shop door.

It was locked, but the lock was no match for his vibroblade and a bit of brute force. Inside, the space was empty. no trace of you left inside. There was no sign of a struggle, no blood smeared on the floor or the wall, but it didn’t ease his mind any. What if someone had come for you, spirited you away in the dead of night to some backwater planet? Dank farrik, what if someone had put out a bounty on you? His mind reeled, raced, chewed him up and spit him out.

He never meant to get so attached to you.

Din switched the settings on his visor, finally determining that all the footprints he could make out on the floor were your own. Then he saw it, sitting on the edge of one of the shelves in the kitchen. The commlink, perched precariously, just enough out of sight that no one else would think twice, but not Din.

He thumbed through the screen, saw the icon flashing with a recorded message. Your face lit up the screen instantly, and he stifled the way his stomach clenched. You looked…scared. Not hurt, not injured, but scared.

“Someone sold me out,” you said, your voice distorted and warped. “I can’t give you details. I can’t really tell you anything. Just know I’m going somewhere safe, and I’ll miss you, Mandalorian. Take care of yourself.”

Your eye were shiny as you reached out to cut the recording, and Din’s heart sank into his toes.

He put the commlink in his pocket, and returned to his ship.

He’d watched the message so many times the words were engraved into his brain. The change in your voice, the way you’d blinked harder the more you spoke. The way you paused in the middle, glanced over your shoulder with a shock of fear in your eyes.

And now here you are, standing in front of him, a pile of metal spilling out of a crate tucked beneath your arm, that same streak of fear in those big eyes. Eyes that have haunted him all these years. You nearly drop the crate as you crouch, your gaze zeroing in on the wound on his leg. “Maker, Mando, what the hell did you do?”

“Long story,” he groans out, wincing as you adjust his leg slightly, leaning to the side so you can get a better look. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” you reply, getting back to your feet, retrieving your crate of parts. “C’mon, let me clean you up. You look like hell.”

Din goes willingly, not sure what else to do, his mind racing from the combination of the Covert and you appearing out of nowhere. He lets you pull him slowly to his feet, tuck yourself under his arm. “Sweets,” he starts to protest, but you drag his arm around your shoulders.

“Shush,” you whisper, glancing around as you start to lead him in the opposite direction he’d been going. “Lean your weight on me.” He does as you say, nearly crumbling with relief. “There you go.”

The ache only worsens as you go, Din resisting the urge to lean his head against yours. When you finally turn him towards the door, he thinks he may topple over completely, but you’re quicker, producing a remote from your pocket. The door slides open, revealing the inside of a hangar, and you all but carry him through, discarding the crate of parts the moment you’re through, hitting the button again once you’re inside. The door slides shut, and Din lifts his head enough to look around. It looks nearly identical to your old hangar.

Then he hears a curious little beep, and looks down to see a tiny droid scurrying towards you. A BD-1 unit; he recognizes it from Peli’s, though yours is a little more rusty around the edges, the cleaner bits of metal painted grey and yellow. “Not now, Shrimp,” you grit, waving at the droid. It beeps loudly back at you, like an arguing child, and Din stifles his laugh.

“I thought you didn’t use droids,” he mumbles.

“He came with the hangar,” you reply, moving him across the hangar. Shrimp follows a few more steps before darting off, disappearing into a pile of crates. “Couldn’t bring myself to scrap him. Besides, not like he’s much help; tiny thing can’t even lift a socket wrench.”

He laughs out loud this time, and when you pull him into the shop, he laughs again, despite himself.

There’s a shelf of sweets above the workbench.

There’s no curtain between the shop and the apartment, instead another sliding door, another remote. Din lets out a low hum when he sees the apartment beyond. More than one room, furnished with actual furniture. It’s…nice. It’s really nice.

You deposit him on the couch, propping his leg up on the table in front of it. “Wait here,” you mumble, pointing a finger at him before disappearing into another room. 

He doesn’t move, but hooks his fingers into the edge of his helmet and yanks it off, depositing it on the couch beside him. He sucks down a breath of unfiltered air.

You gasp as you walk back into the room, nearly dropping the silver case in your hand. “Mando, you—”

“Din,” he says instantly, reaching down, tugging his gloves off, tossing them onto the helmet. “My name is Din Djarin.”

“Din,” you repeat, slowly, like you’re tasting his name on your tongue. The corner of your mouth quirks. “Din…Djarin.”

He just nods. You approach him carefully, like you’re walking towards an injured animal instead of a man, the silver case clutched against your chest.

“Your helmet,” you start, gesturing vaguely. A memory sparks. He told you before — not in so many words — about his Creed, his upbringing. You’d asked, and he’d answered. It wasn’t information he gave willingly. The second time he had you, when you were sprawled out completely naked on that old futon, writhing and moaning beneath him, when he’d shed almost all his beskar, felt the warmth of your body pressed up against all of him. Afterward, when you’d both been sated for the time being, you’d peered up at him from your place on his chest. “Do you ever take it off?” you asked, your voice laced with sleep.

And he’d answered.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says now, eyes darting towards the curve of silver. “I’m not a Mandalorian anymore.”

“What?” you ask, your brow furrowing. He wants to reach out, let his thumb ride the space between your eyebrows, feel it smooth over as he kisses the spot. “What does that mean?”

“It means…” He trails off. Loaded question. What does it mean? Truly? “My name is Din Djarin.”

There’s still confusion etched into your features, but you don’t question him further. Your brow doesn’t loosen, and you perch on the table.

“What’s in the case?” he asks, jutting his chin towards the silver case still in your hands.

You look at him for a long moment, eyes sweeping over his face, over his features. Like you’re committing him to memory. He’s doing the same, almost scrutinizing your face, trying to remember what it looks like without the filter of his visor, what you truly look like, with no barriers in between.

He could taste you easily now.

The thought catches him off guard, the throb between his legs a welcome change to the pulsing of the wound on his thigh. The bacta the Covert had given him has worn off almost completely, and the pain is climbing. 

“B-bacta shot,” you stutter out, shaking your head slightly as you flipped open the case. Your eyes moved to the wound on his leg, peering at the plates of beskar, the flight-suit, the discarded helmet on the couch. “That needs to be cleaned.”

Din just nods.

“Think you can walk to the bedroom?” you ask, shoving the silver case into the chest pocket of your jumpsuit. He recognizes it — the tear in the knee, the patch on your thigh. You fixed the zipper. “It’ll be easier.”

It’s slow-going, getting him back to his feet, shuffling carefully to the bedroom. You ask him if he wants to bring the helmet; he just shakes his head.

What does that mean?

Your bed is unmade, but Din barely notices. The scent of you is amplified in here, and he’s sucking down breaths like he’s been deprived of oxygen. You help him lower to the edge of the bed, and he starts on the armour. You sink to your knees in front of him, setting the bacta shot on the mattress beside him. He removes a pauldron with shaking fingers, and you’re right there to take it from him, your movements sure, setting the metal carefully onto the floor, waiting for the next piece.

“You disappeared,” he says, after more pieces of beskar have been removed, when you’ve moved onto his boots, setting them both carefully at your side.

Your brow had just smoothed out, and it pinches again. “I had to. I left you a message.”

Din pulls the zipper on his flight-suit, reaches into the pocket sewn into the lining, and produces the commlink. “I know.”

Your lips part as you look at the piece of metal, dwarfed by his hand. “You found it.”

“I did.”

Bottom lip caught between your teeth, you look back up at him through your lashes. “It wasn’t safe.”

“You’re safe now,” he says, and you reach for the bacta shot. “Tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you reply, your voice bordering on stern. “Somebody sold me out.”

“I knew that much,” Din mumbles, and you shoot him a glare.

You sigh. “Let’s just say, there were some parts in the hangar that shouldn’t have been there, someone wasn’t happy with some work I did, and then next thing I knew, there were Imps on my tail. So I disappeared.”

“You could have told me where you were going.”

You shake your head. “They were listening. Tracking every message I sent out. I couldn’t let you get roped into it too.”

“You could have gone to the Guild,” he says. He’s too distracted to notice you pull the syringe out of the case. He doesn’t see the needle until you’re pushing it into his muscle above the wound. He grits his teeth audibly, hands curling hard around the edge of the mattress. “Dank farrik.”

“Sorry.”

“I would have come for you,” he says, breath hitching in his throat as you push the plunger down. It feels like his body has been flooded with ice water, his teeth chattering for a moment before the cold turns to a woozy sort of warmth that spreads through his chest like Corellian fire whiskey. He blinks hard, slow, one eye than the other.

“Can you stand?” He nods. Or thinks he does. “The bacta will help, but I need to put a bandage on that wound, at least.” More nodding. He’s vaguely aware of you draping his arms around your neck, your arms sliding around his waist to haul him up. He plants his feet beneath him, forces his weight over his ankles. His movements are slow, languid, like he’s moving through water. You manoeuvre one arm out of his flight-suit, pushing the fabric down his shoulders, until it settles around his hips. The metallic sound of the zipper seems to echo through his brain, and he knows you’re touching his waist, moving the fabric slowly over his injured thigh. But it doesn’t hurt.

All he can feel is you.

You sit him down again, work on pulling the suit off completely. Your hands are warm, soft, gentle against his bare legs, and he nearly buries his nose in the crown of your head when you bend down. Once the flight-suit has been removed, leaving him in his boxers and undershirt, you disappear again, and Din’s not sure if it’s thirty seconds or thirty minutes.

Something cold presses against his thigh, and he flinches. “Does it hurt?” you ask instantly, and your voice is clear, then muffled, then clear again. “It shouldn’t.”

“Nuh-uh,” he slurs out. He hears you laugh, and the sound is like tinkling bells. He wants to hear it again. “Sweets.”

“Yes, Din?” Clear, muffled. His name is a song on your lips.

“You’re beautiful.”

“So are you.”

“Mesh’la,” he mumbles, and then his eyes fall shut, his body slumps back, and he thinks you laugh again. He’s not quite sure; sleep is too busy yanking him under.

+

Din wakes to the sound of running water.

He’s disoriented, confused, not sure where he is until he pushes up on his elbows, looks around, drinks in the sight of your bedroom. The memory floods back; the Covert, then the hangar, taking the helmet off, the bacta shot that knocked him out.

But more importantly: you.

He rubs the sleep from his eyes. How long was he out? He can’t be sure; there’s a window on the far side of the room, but time on Glavis is different, artificial nighttime and starlight instead of sun. His armour has been moved from the floor, neatly piled on a dresser against the wall, his boots on the floor underneath. His flight-suit is spread out on a worktable in the middle of the room, and he can see from his spot that you’ve tried to mend it, patching the spot the Darksaber had cut open with a square of fabric. It’s looks to be the same kind of material, but the colour is darker. Beneath the sheets, his leg is wrapped in cotton bandages, and there’s no sign of blood seeping to the surface.

His head turns in the direction of the noise of the water, and he pauses, waits for some kind of pain to prick through his body, but it never comes. He feels…good. Well-rested. His eyes follow the sound, and then he sees it.

The door to your bathroom is wide open, and from his spot on your bed, he can see directly into the shower. You’re inside, steam pouring over the top of the glass wall, and Din’s whole body jerks. He never forgot what you looked like naked, and it’s been a long time, but somehow it still feels like the first time. He can feel the blood rushing south, and his hands clench in the bedsheets.

He just stares, watching the water move over you, cascading down your spine, rolling in rivulets over your curves, following the lines of your body. He wants to follow them too, wants to read you like a map only he knows the key to.

Dank farrik, he’s missed you. He hadn’t realized how much.

The water shuts off, and he sees you reach for a towel, wiping your face first. He sinks back down on the bed, wondering if he should feign sleep, feeling like a kid caught doing something he’s not supposed to. But before he can— “You’re awake,” he hears you call, and looks back just as you wrap the towel around your middle. “I thought you’d be out for the night.”

Din coughs, shifting the blankets, trying to hide the tent that’s formed in his boxers. “You don’t close the door?” He doesn’t know what else to say.

You laugh. “I live alone,” you say, stepping out of the bathroom, walking towards the dresser his armour sits upon. “Force of habit.”

He clears his throat. Loudly. Pauses. “…it’s a nice view.”

Your tongue peeks between your lips as you walk over to him, still in just the towel. Your hair is still dripping, water droplets dotting your shoulders. You sink slowly onto the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“G-good,” he spits out, adjusting himself, making more room for you. “Really good.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “I’m glad. You scared me, Man—” You catch yourself. “Din.”

A drop of water splashes down from your hair, starts a path down your upper arm, and Din reaches out, catching it on his finger. You watch his hand, lips softly parted, and he continues the path, drawing his hand up and down your skin, the backs of his knuckles against your bicep.

“I wondered where you were, all these years,” you whisper. There’s longing in your voice, he notices; the same feeling sits like a weight on his chest. “I never stopped wondering.”

“I’ll tell you sometime,” he whispers back. There’s something forming in the air between you, thick like the steam that still foams from the open bathroom. Din can almost taste it, and the thought he’d had in your living room resurfaces, making him twitch beneath the sheets. He could taste you so easily now. “It’s a long story.”

The corner of your mouth quirks. “I got nothing but time.”

So does he, he realizes. He’s without a ship, without his son, without anything anchoring him to one planet or another, to any sort of path. He’d been wandering already, trying to find the Covert, and now he is unmoored once more, yet somehow managed to find his way back to your hangar.

To your bed.

His hand stops chasing water droplets, and he sees your teeth sink into your lower lip. He lowers his palm until it rests on your bare thigh, and he can feel how your skin is still hot from the shower. “I never kissed you,” he rasps. “Before.”

Your head shakes slowly, and you turn towards him more fully. The towel is loose around your chest, your hand holding it in place, and he reaches for it, slowly uncurling your fingers from the fabric, until your grip falls slack, and the towel goes with it. “You should fix that,” you murmur.

“I’m out of practice.”

Your lips twitch again. “How bad?”

“Few decades,” he says softly. “Since before I swore the Creed.”

“You were a child.”

“It was a childish kiss.” He pauses, moves his hand again, brushes dripping locks of hair from your face. “I don’t want to kiss you like that.”

“Just…” Din leans in slightly, tilts his head to the side. “Do what feels natural.” You mirror his movement, and his eyes are glued to your mouth, to the way your lips stay parted even when you’re done speaking, the way your collar lifts with shuddered breaths. He sees your hands move the towel out of the corner of his eye, pulling the fabric away from your body completely until you’re bared to him, head to toe.

You’re just as beautiful as he remembers. If not more.

The tip of his nose drags along the slope of yours, and his hand slides from your thigh to your hip. “I need you closer, Sweets,” he murmurs, and you nod against him, your foreheads tapping together. There’s a bit of shuffling, the blankets moved back, his tented boxers exposed but barely acknowledged as you climb into his lap. He revels in the way you look above him, your knees pressed either side of his hips. You’re hesitant to lower your weight onto his leg, and he guides you slow, giving you a quiet it’s okay as you settle onto him.

He doesn’t feel any pain; he just feels you.

Once you’re comfortable, your hands clutching at his shoulders, he adjusts his grip on you, palms skimming up your spine, mapping out your ribs and the curve of your ass. You make a quiet noise when he squeezes one cheek, the movement propelling you forward, making your hips roll into his, your core pushed against his hard cock. It makes him hiss with pleasure, and he slides one hand up to your hair, knotting his fingers in it and dragging your mouth down to his.

It’s not artful; he’s sure it doesn’t look pretty from the outside. There’s a lot of teeth and tongue, the fumble of hands as he tries to get you even closer. He’s sure you’ve been kissed better than this, and it makes his cheeks heat, makes him pull away, tucking his chin towards his chest. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Hey,” you say softly, your hands moving to cup his cheeks, tilting his face back up towards you. “It’s okay. Just…follow my lead?” You say it like a question, your thumbs swiping over his face, through the smatter of facial hair along his jaw. “I got you.”

Din nods, lets his lips part as you cock your head to the side, leaning in slow. You kiss his top lip and then his bottom one, giving him just enough teeth that he wants more, wants it harder. He grips your hips as you move, but your kiss stays tender, slow, your tongue a wet heat against his own. He’d dreamed of this, of kissing you, and this one — albeit the second attempt — is everything he ever imagined.

Finally, your mouth grows more insistent. He’s hard as steel between his legs, and he can feel how hot you are, your wetness spreading across his boxers with every roll of your hips. Your mouth is sweet, almost sugary, and he finds himself chuckling against your lips, still trying to get you closer. Your stomach presses to his as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him harder, your tongue licking into his mouth.

“Sweets,” he grinds out when you start pulling at his undershirt, insistent to get it over his head. He lets you, and when you lower your head again, your mouth moves to his throat instead, and it makes him moan. “Mesh’la, wait, please, I need—”

You pull back instantly, your eyes bright with worry. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I want…” His eyes drop, tracing a path down your body, his throat growing dry when they land on the apex of your thighs, the glistening wetness he knows he’s caused. He lets one hand follow the path his eyes made, rubs his thumb over your clit. Your whole body shivers. “I want to taste you.”

Your eyes go big, pupils blown with lust, and Din uses your momentary shock to his advantage. He’s stronger than you, perks of the bounty hunting lifestyle, and he flips you easily with one arm around your waist, his other hand hitching your thigh over his hip. You squeak as your head hits the pillows, clinging to him until you’re laid out beneath him.

It’s his turn to kiss his way down your throat, and he does, laving his tongue against your pulse as he makes his way down your body. He pauses at your chest, moves to the side to close his lips around your nipple. It makes your back arch, a high-pitched noise falling from your mouth, and he grins against you, giving you just the edge of his teeth before he’s wandering across your chest to give the other the same attention.

You’re a writhing mess by the time he’s settled between your thighs. He can’t keep his eyes still, raking over every inch of you, trying to remember every part. He can see the muscles in your legs jump as he traces his fingers over them, the more sensitive parts of your skin making you keen.

With your legs spread, he can see everything, and his mouth waters at the sight of your wet cunt, walls fluttering around nothing as he teases you with his fingers, collecting your wetness on the tips before drawing them to his mouth.

He moans at the taste. Of course, you’re sweet. Deliciously so.

“Din,” you groan out, propping yourself up on your elbows. He can feel you watching, and his gaze flicks up to yours as he drops his jaw, lowers his mouth to you. Your eyes roll back for a moment, one hand moving to knot in his hair, and Din moans into you. His tongue explodes with the taste of you, sending shocks down his spine, making his hips rolls into the mattress, seeking relief.

Just do what feels natural, your words echo in his head. So he does. He licks into you, wide stripes with the flat of his tongue, smaller kitten licks to your clit. He can’t get enough of your taste, hooking his hands around your thighs, pulling himself deeper into you. And you guide him some, your hand in his hair an anchor of sorts, tugging slightly to get him right where you need him, a gasped oh fuck, right there! reaching his ears.

It’s not before long that you’re smacking at his shoulder, muffled moans on your lips with your teeth sunk into your lower one. He detaches from you, gets one more good look and lick in before he’s following your grip, kissing every inch of you he can reach as he makes his way back up your body.

“I need you inside me,” you slur, your hands reaching down, pushing at his boxers. His cock springs up against his stomach and he groans, the sound growing louder when you wrap your fingers around him. “Please, Din, I want to cum on your cock.”

It’s a miracle he doesn’t cum right then and there, hearing your words turn filthy. And filthier still as he hauls himself over you, plants one elbow beside your head, looks between you, reaches down to line himself up and—

Freezes.

He can feel your eyes on his face, features pinched with anticipation. Your hands have found homes along his ribs, fingers tapping out rhythmless patterns. Hips lifting, you must see something in his expression, because you move a hand to his chin, lifting his eyes to yours again. “Din,” you say, and a shiver shoots down his spine again at the way his name sounds on your lips. “It’s okay. We can stop, if you need to.”

“No!” he nearly shouts, and feels himself flush, lowering himself slightly, careful not to drop all his weight on you. “No, that’s not what I…I don’t…”

“Don’t what?” you murmur. Your voice is quiet, understanding. You give a soft laugh. “I know you’re not a virgin, but if you don’t want to, it’s okay, I won’t say any—”

“It’s not that,” he cuts you off, petting his hand over your still-damp hair. “I want to. I want you. It’s just that…” He chews at his lip. “No one’s ever seen my face, while we…when I…”

Realization slides through your features. “Oh.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t have to look,” you say quickly, skimming your knuckles along his cheek. “I can turn over, if you like, if that’s easier than—”

“No,” he says, not a shout this time, but firmer. “I want you to see, Sweets.” He drops his chin, emboldened by your softness, your understanding. He kisses you soundly. “I want to kiss you while you cum.” His words pull a silky noise from your throat.

He breaks the kiss as he takes himself in hand, pushes into your dripping cunt. You’re hot, clenching down on him instantly, arms draped around his neck as he lowers himself further, latches his lips to yours. He hitches one of your legs high on his hip, drives into you deep. He had you close on his tongue already, and he rolls his hips hard, catching something deep inside that makes your entire body seize.

“Yes, Din, please, oh gods, please, please, please,” you’re babbling against his lips, one hand pressed flat between his shoulders, the other knotted in the back of his hair. “Yes!”

Just as he said, he kisses you while you cum. He feels it pulse through your body, your limbs taut and then lax, still holding him close. Your hips chase his, cunt clenching tight as a vice, and Din’s not far behind you, pleasure lighting a fuse down his spine.

You pull your lips from his just as he starts to spill in you. Your hand moves to grip his chin, and you force his gaze to yours. He gasps and your mouth mirrors his, lips parted in a soft o, turning to a grin as he grinds into you, painting your insides as deep as he can go. It feels like an implosion, his bones rattled in his body, but then set on the softest bed of silk as he collapses into your chest. You hold him close, petting one hand through his hair, breathing deep and slow until his own evens out, matches yours, until your heartbeat syncs with his.

“Mesh’la?” he calls after a moment, cheek still pressed to your sternum.

“Yes, Din?” you reply, your voice scratchy as your nails start to drag along his scalp. His eyes are heavy.

“I missed you.”

He can hear the smile in your voice. “I missed you too.”

+

Din wakes alone in your bed again.

He thinks it’s the next morning — the rest of what he assume to be evening was spent in your bed, both of you naked and wrapped in each other. Again and again and again, he pulled pleasure from your body, let you pull it from his, found your bliss together. By the time you were both too tired to move, sprawled on the mattress, your head on his shoulder, you’d whispered, “You’re a good kisser, Din Djarin.” And then you were asleep, Din not too far behind.

He dresses quickly, boxers pulled back on, undershirt in his hand as he pads out of the room. He finds you standing in the kitchen, a steaming cup of caf in your hands. The droid — Shrimp, he dimly recalls — is perched on the table, beeping out a message to you. You’re nodding along, blowing the steam off the top of your caf, and your eyes flick to him as he steps into the kitchen.

“You know Peli Motto?”

Din’s brow crinkles with confusion. “You know Peli?”

You scoff. “That woman taught me everything I know.”

“You’re joking.”

“Swear on my hangar.”

Din just laughs, walking around the table. He slides an arm around your waist once he’s close enough, leans into kiss the side of your head. You lean into him. “Why are we talking about Peli?”

“She sent me a message,” you say, offering him your caf. He takes a sip, only feeling more confused. “Asking if I had any spare ships laying around my hangar. A replacement for her Mandalorian friend.”

Din balks. He hasn’t told you about the Crest. “Sweets…”

You step away from him, pressing a hand to his chest as your eyes go wide with realization. “Din Djarin, what did you do to that ship?”

“I didn’t—”

“Din.”

“It was Imps,” he says, trying to reach for your hip. “It wasn’t—”

“Where is the Razor Crest?”

He sighs heavily, and reaches out to take the cup of caf from you again. “Now it’s nothing but a scorch mark on the planet Tython. It was the Imps. They took my son.” The words are out before he can stop them.

Your eyes go so wide he’s worried they might pop out of your skull. “Your son?”

“It’s a long story.”

You pluck the caf out of his hands, walk around the table, pull out a chair and sink into it. “I got nothing but time.”

[willownwisp]

nice legs, daisy dukes.

i. nice legs daisy dukes makes a man go woo woo. (vendetta!leon x fem reader) author's note: like every responsible writer, this is not proofread because i run on my delusions and being thick faced. i write and call it a day. first entry of my valentine's advent, yayyyy! i tried to overcome my intense fear of dialogues because i know i suck at it omg please tell me if i did well, likes are vv appreciated! cw: nsfw. r18, MDNI PLS. fingering in public.

Leon feels like a creep, scratch that. He definitely looks like a creep. He probably looks like a thirty-six year old man waiting for a hot coed, because he is. He pulls out his phone to relieve himself of the slight shame, sends a dry text because he doesn't understand the purpose of an emoji. Never did. In his day, texts used to be enough and it was hot that you could send a coherent text with those small ass phones and even smaller keypad.

He leans against his Ducati looking like a fucking dick with an elaborately decorated box of pastries in hand. You've been eyeing the newly opened pâtisserie from across the street. He can be sweet when he wants to be, because he knows you're obsessed with those "instagrammable" treats. It gets him good boyfriend points because you matter, you're his sweet little bunny. The sweetest.

You're sweet when he sees you from the flood of students exiting the campus gates in your pink mini dress and a matching cardigan, a flood of warmth washes him, in his mind there are compartments. Store the trauma in another space deep inside his brain, and the other space a section of just you, he tucks away the image of you in this mini dress.

It's definitely going in his favorite outfits you wore.

You're sweet when you visibly perk up at the sight of him in all his 5'11 glory, beaming at him as you literally run towards where he stood. God you're just adorable.

"Lovey!"

Your sweet voice cuts through the idle murmur as you stand before him, and Leon looks at you with that soft gaze. You look like a bunny. A giddy one. The ribbons you wore on your hair come to view now that you're near, and the sight of your shapely thighs put him in a spell.

"Bunny, are you surprised?"

He replies with a smug smile.

"Uh-huh!"

You nod with a soft giggle, a faint blush dusting on your cheeks.

"We don't usually have lunch together…"

You add, the smile on your face is practically inextinguishable as you squirm. You're so fucking cute. He thinks before he brings up the box of pastries, presenting it to you like a cat gifting his owner a small trinket. You squeal before throwing your arms around him in a hug.

"Lovey! How did you know I wanted these?"

You ask and he chuckles, of course Leon would know. Who wouldn't when your social media is full of your ravings about the place, but he plays it off cool.

"I just did, bunny. Boyfriend senses and all."

That reply earns him a giggle from you and he's whipped. Your dainty hands grabbing the box as you mouth a small 'thank you' and his arms wrap around your waist. Lifting you up like nothing as he seats you atop his Ducati, like the pretty princess that you are.

"Where are we going, lovey?"

You ask, but the words fall on deaf ears for as soon as Leon had lifted you up in his hands, he's already thinking of ways to feel you, properly. The way your mini dress hikes up your thighs as he looks down to peek at your legs, he hums an acknowledgment to your question, his hands snaking from your waist to your thighs just where your mini dress ends. His thumbs rub lazy circles on your skin , before he lifts his head up to give you a cheeky grin.

"Anywhere bunny. Let's get out of here, yeah?" You nod obediently and he pulls away, giving your head a soft pat as you tell him off to not mess up your hairstyle and he rolls his eyes, takes the time to put your helmet on because he's a gentleman. "Hold on tight bunny." He'd say as you hug him from behind, the whole bike ride was silent as he speeds through traffic, only for the both of you to end up in a deserted park, right at a secluded spot just hidden behind trees and park picnic tables. Leon gets off first, taking off his helmet before turning his attention on you. He takes off yours only to be greeted by your confused face. "Are we having a picnic, lovey?" You ask, and he only gives you a smile before pressing his lips on yours in a sweet kiss. "If that's what my bunny wants." There's a teasing lilt on his voice as his hands wander up to your thighs, his calloused palms rubbing up and down, and you get an inkling that it was not picnic time. "Lovey, don't do that… we're in public…"   You tell him off shyly but he only quirks an eyebrow. "It doesn't really matter when we're all alone, yeah?" His voice is husky as he bring his left hand to grip your cheeks gently, his thumb moving to trace the outline of your lips. "We'll be fine bunny." He assures you as the hand that rubs down your thigh inch higher, and higher until the pad of his fingers kisses your clothed pussy.

"I've always taken care of you haven't I?"

You respond with a whine, it's hard to resist when he gets like this. All over you, hands, and close as he possibly can.

"Lovey…"

You call out to him one more time, teetering on the edge of a protest or a plea for him to go on. Leon bits his lips as he rubs your clit slowly, stimulating you before he rains chaste kisses on your face. A kiss on your forehead, a kiss on your cheek, on your cute nose, and a peck on your lips, because you're his baby. He treats you like a ceramic décor, because your precious and fragile.

"Use your words, bunny."

He responds as he slowly feels your cotton panties dampen underneath his fingers, your clit swollen with need and he feels you heating up.

"Lovey, I'm wet…"

You whine again as you squirm beneath him, your grip on the handle of the box tightens up as your free hand claws the leather seat.

"Want me to help you, bunny?"

He coos as he uses his index fingers to tease your clothed pussy, rubbing it up and down the slit as your insides flutter.

"Uh-huh, please lovey."

A satisfied grin eases on his face before he eases his fingers off of which earns him a sad whimper from you and confused look before he shakes his head.

"Suck."

He orders, bringing in his digits to your mouth which you happily oblige to. He grunts as you wet his fingers with an experimental lick, you could taste yourself from his fingertips before your mouth covers his index and middle finger, sucking on it like a lollipop.

The sight sending electricity straight down to Leon's dick as he pulls his fingers out, giving your lips a short kiss ass your reward before his fingers find their way on your inner thighs again, tugging your panties to the side as your pussy kisses his wet fingers.

Leon being the tease that he is, traces your slit, up and down while his thumb presses on your clit as you instinctively spread your legs more to give him room.

"Lovey, don't tease!"

You whine in his ear once more and he chuckles. Two of his thick fingers plunge down your pussy with an embarrassing squelch as you gasp and Leon chuckles.

"She's speaking to me bunny."

He hums happily as his free hand move from your face to your thighs, keeping your pretty legs spread as it should as his fingers thrust in and out of you.

"Lovey…"

You moan, your one eye closes as you watch his hands move, looking down at his busy hands as your slippery pussy gives him enough leverage to slide in and out easily, while his thumb rub on your swollen nub.

"Yeah, bunny? You like that? Can fill you up right, yeah?"

He speaks to you, but you're too dazed to respond as your walls clench around him and he groans. Tipping his head forward to kiss you again, swallowing your moans as you make an "mph" sound as your lips crashes with his. You tilt your head to allow him to deepen the kiss as he slips his tongue inside, tasting your sweet mouth.

 "Ah—ah—" You moan as you part, his fingers not letting up. "You like this?" He whispers in your ear, his husky voice making your toes curl.  "Getting you off after school with my fingers?"  

"Ahh!" You moaned, shoving your hips against his pumping fingers. While his other hand skillfully unbuttons your cardigan's sole closed button before tugging your dress and bra together to reveal your breasts, before proceeding to licking on your nipple. "You're loving this, aren't you?" He rasps, spreading his fingers and pressing his thumb harder on her clit. "Being talked to like this? It gets you off even more, doesn't it, bunny?" He teases you before proceeding to hunch over to suck on your nipples, with his fingers just knuckle deep inside your pussy as your legs lock around his waist, the heels on your sandals digging on his back but he couldn't care less. Your sweet, sweet sounds as he gets you off, your luscious legs around him. God, he could cum from that alone. "Come on, bunny. Talk to your lovey." He teases again, a shit-eating grin on his face as he curls his fingers on that one sweet spot as you throw your head back and your walls clench his fingers in a vice grip. "Fuck, bunny. Can feel you squeezing tight. You're close, bunny?"

He asks but you only respond with a breathless moan as you tremble. He scissors his fingers inside you, alternating between spreading your pussy and curling his fingers and it drives you crazy. He leaves a bite mark around your nipples before he straightens his back to look at your disheveled form. Smirking at the fact that your cardi has slipped off your shoulders and your breasts heaving with your mini dress hiked to your waist.

Looking proud of himself, he captures your lips in a deep kiss as his fingers pump harder, you could hear the salacious squelching at how wet your pussy is.

"Come on bunny, cum for me. Show how much your lovey makes you feel good."

He grunts as his hands grip your cheeks, forehead resting on yours as you tighten up and your body tenses before cumming around his deft fingers with your lips parted in a silent scream.

He slowly halts his fingers, smirking as he brings it to his lips to taste you while you gather yourself. Panting and looking dazed at your older boyfriend who now laps at his fingers coated in your essence like a cat as he groans.

"Did I make you feel good, bunny?"

You nod weakly as your head rests on his chest. He only chuckles. He fixes you up. Tugging down your mini dress and fixing your upper half, buttoning up your cardi again.

"Wanna get lunch now, bunny?"

You look up at him as you slowly gather enough coherence to find that somehow in the middle of your indecency with Leon, the box of pastries had slipped from your fingers and is now a mess on the grass, decorating it with fresh fruit and whipped cream as your face falls and you look up at Leon who now sports a look of… guilt? On his face.

"Leon. Kennedy."

Your voice is dangerously low as you narrow your eyes at him.

"This is your fault!"

You exclaim with a pout as you tug on his leather jacket.

"I was looking forward to eating those! What a waste of food and money! Oh god, I feel so bad!"

Leon soothes you as he smoothens your hair with his hands and he kisses your forehead.

The good thing about being thirty-six and with a shit ton of disposable income is that he can buy you all that you want, it's what he intends to for his sweet, sweet bunny.

[dykeomania]

PLS write smut for Hazel from bottoms..I need her so bad I fear..maybe like subtop!hazel..is her having a strap too far..I need her..

this is not. a full fledged fic. but this is the first time in a sec that ive let myself be inspired by an ask. this is weirdly switcher and just pure gay-sexier than it is subby!hazel. lmk if you want things to get subbier, bc i can probably do that. but for rn i have.. this image.. and i want you to walk with me on this but also hold my hand because i'm #supershy,

(minors [including 17 year olds 🙏🏽] dni fr, under the cut: not that proofread. strap lol (r!r), foul language, breeding... language... (my bad) (hazel has a strap tho), subtop!hazel except i could've made this shit so much worse so i guess switch!hazel but like, switch!reader, idk everyone's just a whore. there's an "i love you" (or.. multiple, i guess). there's a mirror. there's a vibrator. purely stream of consciousness, i don't even think the position they're fucking in makes physical sense fr. i was bored and i was thinking, so i wrote a lot. this whole thing is not realistic btw. i have very little confidence that hazel's blowing anyone's back out, but. it's my first day out in a min so i'm rusty. all respect to the community. next time when i pull up, i'll offer something a little more tame and saccharine as opposed to [exaggerated p*rnstar moans!!!]. reblogs and whatnot appreciated.)

so, i have this .. picture.

of you putting a bullet vibe in the pocket of hazel's strap before she fucks you from behind for the first time.

she eventually finds the confidence to blow your back out, and tbh, you think it's gonna end with you seeing stars because you can already hear the fucking lottery machines going off in your head. she's fucking you so well, and hazel's problem is that you're letting her know.

at first she thinks she's going crazy. but those fucking mewls into the pillow over how deep she is, how she's making you feel so good, how you've missed her so much, are sending shocks through her clit that the vibe keeps amplifying, everytime her pelvis hits your ass.

if she thrusts hard enough, which god knows she does, it almost makes her buckle over.

you're left clenching the sheets, and gasping against the linen while she fucks you, taking you in a way that's so uncharacteristically perverse that you don't even have the brain capacity to ask yourself why you didn't ask her to take you like this, sooner. her thrusts are quick and shallow, her words breathy and a little sharp. with every jolt of your body forwards as she experimentally blows your back out, it's like you feel yourself becoming more and more removed from this fucking planet. you can't help but cry -- sob, even -- as she makes you into a mess of limbs, leaving you tugging at your tits in one split second, and gripping at the sheets the next.

something happens, though.

where her hips rut into yours in deep, hard thrusts, spaced out by what feels like eternities, you can hear her. she's moaning now, breath quickening and chest rippling everytime her crotch hits yours at a particular angle. she's mewling, and unless you're hallucinating from how fucked up you are, you can hear her --

"fuck... f--uuh--ck, fuck, fuckfuck..."

-- silently beginning to whimper.

the girl goes from bullying your cunt to burying her strap deep enough in it to make the apex of its curve nudge against your g-spot, in a way that leaves your mouth hanging wide open with nothing spilling out of it maybe other than drool, but...

it's the slick warmth of hazel's back pressed nearly flush against yours and the heat of her breath against your shoulder that makes your eyes flutter open, facing your reflection in the floor-length mirror stationed across from hazel's bed.

hazel's in it so deep, you can't even see the strap anymore. and by no exaggeration, it's like an earthquake pulses through her body everytime she nudges her hips into your ass, making your vision blurry. she's rutting into you. greedily grinding her strap into your cunt in the effort of chasing her own high.

it wasn't a secret that hazel was sensitive. more often than not, the poor girl writhed against your mouth whenever she let you put it on her ("let you" is a loose sentence -- she begs for it, sometimes). you don't even know why you're surprised that your girlfriend is getting this close over having a bullet vibe pressed against her clit, hardly protected by fabric. "b--babe--"

what sounds like a plea, amongst the feeling of hazel's thighs trembling against the back of yours, inspires something sinister inside you.

you wind your hips against her, pressing back against the strap and the toy. the sight of your ass rolling against hazel's pelvis, combined with how good it feels is gonna actually, like, make hazel fucking--

"don't cum."

she loses her breath, entirely, and her rhythm, apparently. she slows, as if that was her body's instinct to obey your orders, despite the string of breaths that tumbles out of her mouth. "n-- wha-- fuck, no, nonono--"

you wind your hips deeper into hers, extracting a moan from your own throat -- fuck, maybe your gut, since that's how deep you could feel her. you press your ass into her until you feel the buzz of the vibe against folds, the frequency of it changing and humming as you press it further into her clit. "y--es," you grit. "don't fucking cum yet, hazel."

the dull, rolling vibrations through the fabric of the strap draw hazel's eyes into the back of her head, and then closed. she's grunting now -- or all of the above -- and she tries her best to unchap her lips, fruitlessly dragging over them. the little breaths she takes through them only brings them back to being puffy, pink, and a gateway of noise that gives evidence to struggle.

"gonna let me count you down?" you puff out your sentence in one breath, and hazel can fucking hear the grin in your still-fucked-out tone and it makes her whine louder.

"yeah? gonna fuckin' let me count you down so you can cum in me, haze?"

cum.. in you. three words that you'd never even fucking uttered to her before this, and that she never fucking thought she would ever hear and.. it looks like she can't complain, because her eyes roll into the back of her head and hazel swears that she -- at least, briefly -- meets jesus christ, "oh my god--," hazel slurs, hips rolling impossibly deeper into yours, it's a miracle she hasn't swabbed your cervix yet -- "ohmygod, oh my god--"

"three..."

ohfuck. ohfuck,ohfuck,ohfuck,ohfuck. it's the soft chorus that she whispers to herself as she starts to fuck herself into you, again, opting for thrusts as a means of trying to regain control with no consideration for your demise. the vision of her blurs in the mirror, and you feel your fists grasping at her sheets again.

"fuck--" you croak. "t--two.."

she pulls you further into her, and at this point, hazel's okay with being written off as a lost cause, 'cause fuck, it's not like she has a choice. the strap brief is soaked and it's entirely your fault, and god, she throws her head back. a mess of words, a mess of sensations, hazel just blurts, "oh my g--od--i love you--"

you burst out laughing at the random proclamation, admist everything.

she forces her head down to watch you, jaw hung open. and at this point, she's just speaking. rambling and slurring and gasping, tears-in-eyes-in-awe-and-all, as she watches you throw your ass back against her.

"iloveyou so much, you're so f--ucking hot, whatthefuck?--"

there's something weirdly sweet about it. something that makes your cunt clench around the strap in a way that hollows you out shortly thereafter, and lets hazel hit that fucking spot just right. before you know it, you're wherever hazel is, cunt fully creaming around the silicon.

"i love you--" you dumbly spit out a giggle, a gasp causing a steam of spit to cascade off your bottom lip and onto hazel's navy sheets. "babe," you warn. "ohfuck, ohmyfuckinggod, you're gonna make me cu---"

"fuckingsayone," hazel, unbelievably pleads while she unbelievably spears her strap into your cunt. "oh my fucking god, say one, please, please, pleaseplease--"

she starts begging. unprompted. "it's s-so good, it's so, so good, feels so fucking good, wanna c--um in you--" and she probably repeats it. probably repeats that she wants to cum in you until she's blue in the face and,

"o-one--"

until you let her.

the noise that's ripped from hazel's throat is .. embarrassing. virginal, almost. fully reverberates off the walls, and she trembles. her clit convulses against the vibe, twitching with every short stream of her release and she folds. poor girl was holding your hips for something -- for reassurance, to get a grip, dear life, perhaps? as her hips languidly fuck and press into the surface of your ass., rocking your near limp-frame after you've pretty much creamed all over her strap.

hazel hangs over you for god knows how long, dark hair shaggy and some strands stuck to her forehead in wavy wisps. cheeks flushed, and lower lip bitten to hell. the bullet vibe fucking dies, thank god almighty, because god knows she was not in any shape to reach down and turn it off.

she stays like that for a while, until she you feel her again. this time, only gentler, and much more like herself. soft hands caressing the skin of your back, her breath warm and shaky as she peppers a splay of kisses across your skin.

as you come from the surface of your own high, you feel yourself hum. still full of her, and dizzy with it. despite it, you manage -- slurring, slightly.

"haze?"

there's a hum, somewhere.

"did that really feel that good?"

hazel distantly nods, brown locks brushing against your back.

"uh.." hazel frowns, letting out a weak laugh. "y-yeah, honestly."

the mental note gets filed away somewhere deep in the haze of your brain and you grin, when you press your ass one against her just for shits and giggles and hear her gasp, from the sensitivity of it alone.

"that's my girl."

[shanastoryteller]

Happy holidays!! More Fem WWX Mo pls!

a continuation of 52 53 54

He was not brought back to kill Madame Jin.

But perhaps making a clean sweep of it all is simply for the best. He'll have to ask Jiang Yanli what her opinions are about her mother-in-law. He assumes there nothing good.

"Stop looking like that," Jin Guangyao says, somehow without moving his mouth at all and bland smile still in place.

That's a neat trick.

"Look like what? This is just my face," he says then rubs at his nose when Jin Guangyao raises an eyebrow. "Why is she - it's hardly like you're an outlier!"

"Xuanyu-mei," he says mildly, voice low enough that they won't be overheard.

He scowls and crosses his arms. In these robes it has the unfortunate effect of pressing his breasts front and center but he's refusing to acknowledge that.

There's the sound of a scuffle and he glances to see Jingyi attempting to beat an Ouyang disciple with his sleeves and Sizhui putting in a half-hearted effort to stop him. What's that about?

They're going to have to tell Sizhui. He hopes he'll be excited. It'll be quite a bit of an age difference, but he still wants Sizhui to be happy about having a sibling. Or at least not upset about it. Or not upset about it for long, he amends, because Jiang Cheng hadn't exactly been thrilled at first. To be fair, Wei Wuxian hadn't been either.

"You're pouting like a child," Jin Guangyao says. "Can you at least pretend to have some decorum?"

"No," he says, eyes drifting to where his siblings are speaking with the Yu sect leader. How had Uncle Jiang told them about him? From his memory, he thinks that he didn't and just showed up with him one day.

That probably won't work on Sizhui. There are a couple things he might notice.

Uhg he's just gotten used to this body and it's going to start doing new and different things. He hopes this doesn't mess with his core too badly - he's worked hard on it!

"When are you coming back to Gusu?" he asks. That would be an ideal time for him to kill some people, because anyone with half a brain cell is going to suspect Jin Guangyao when Jin Guangshan dies.

Granted, getting him away from the scene of the crime won't do much to alleviate suspicion. It's not like he's not perfectly capable of orchestrating a high profile murder from half a world away, after all.

"When Xichen can devise an excuse, I suppose," he answers, mouth twisting.

Wei Wuxian leans so he can use his stupidly ornate robes as a cover for briefly grasping his forearm.

This whole marriage thing is so stupid and he understands that now in a way he hadn't when he'd first arrived. Mo Xuanyu had killed herself rather than marry and Lan Zhan had been stoic and furious and uninterested.

It was supposed to be Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen.

Making two of his favorite people miserable for no reason is more than enough reason to kill him, surely. He's done more for less.

[eightmakesonebraincell]

Which of the mafia!ateez members who are bad boys but when you are there, they showed their soft side?

ooooh this ask scratches my brain real good because the concept of mafia!ateez is all about cold, ruthless men with grey morals who become soft, gooey and protective only for their s/o 😍🤩

(pls note: this is based purely on the aus and headcanons that i've created for my mafia world)

mafia!hongjoong - tbh he wouldn't be soft for you per se, he'd be more of a textbook simp LMAO. look the mans has got to maintain his image as the big scary mafia boss. but the person who really runs the show? you. just say the word and he will be contacting all of his connections, pulling in all his owed favours, utilising all his resources and men; basically anything and everything he can do for you

mafia!seonghwa - if joong is the textbook definition of a simp then seonghwa is the textbook definition of soft 🥹🫶 given your history of trauma as well, seonghwa makes sure to shower you with the gentlest and most tender love that he can give you. you make his life so much more domestic and homey and cozy he feels his heart literally burst every time he looks at you

mafia!yunho - he's also very very soft for you. yunho's nearly lost you once (and by his own hands at that) so he's never going to want to see you get hurt ever again. you always have to remind him that you can do things by yourself but it must be the height difference or sth because the man won't doesn't hear a word. but in saying that, this man also finds joy in teasing and pranking you

mafia!yeosang - hmm yeosang was a bit of a tricky one to think about. growing up, you were the one who took care of him a lot of the times (if we're being real i'm pretty sure most of us want to baby him) and so he was mostly just comfortable with you. i think eventually though, once he became your bodyguard and he started to notice that hang on, you're actually shorter and smoller than him now, the dynamic started to change. yeosang probably doesn't even realise that he's got a soft spot for you

mafia!san - hoOOO OKAY san is soft yes but you drive his protective instincts wild. like he is the type to watch the whole world burn if anyone hurts you. he can never really ever forget that night when you turned up at his apartment, vulnerable and asking for his help. he'd put himself between you and the rest of the world in a heartbeat

mafia!mingi - ik a couple of the other teezers have a civilian s/o too, but for mingi in particular, the fact that you're a normal civilian (that he accidentally dragged into his mafia mess) makes him that much softer when he's around you. he's honest with you and will answer your questions if you ever ask, but there's a larger part of him that wants to keep you far far away from his crimes. you see the best in him and if he could, he wants to only show you that side of him forever

mafia!wooyoung - textbook simp #2 like this boy CANNOT. and i say C A N N O T hide his affection for you to save his life (you definitely get kidnapped once a month because of how obvious he makes it that you're his lover). but wooyoung's affection comes hand in hand with brattiness so he will make it his mission to test how far he can drive you up the wall 🙄

mafia!jongho - jongho is definitely soft, but it's a lot more subtle than the other members. he doesn't express it so much with words or touch but you can see his softness clear as day in the things that he does for you. like FIRST UP the whole joining the mafia to bring justice to your dad's death???? he quite literally upended his whole life for you 🫵 i think also the fact that you two have known each other since you were children plays a part in the subtlety of his soft affection. he knows you like the back of his hand and he'll do things for you without ever being asked and without asking for acknowledgement

[artificialbreezy]

This is a niche thought but I live for your nsfw headcanons so pls hear me out. Your birthday, Noah makes you cum for each year you’ve been alive (23 orgasms if you’re 23 etc) I cannot be the only one thinking this

this is the best thing i’ve read today omfg

nsfw under the cut ◡̈

he’d totally bring up as a joke.

“ya know how you’re supposed to get birthday spankings? like one for each year? well, what if i made you cum once for each year?”

brain goes empty bc WHAT IF but you play it cool, “i mean i think id get TIRED by the time your done. let alone i don’t know if i can even get off 23 times”

he wouldn’t bring it up again UNTIL the day of your birthday

you’d be fast asleep in bed, and he’d be kissing your neck and working his hands down your body trying to wake you up

you’d slowly stir awake and just look at him all sleepy “whatcha doing Noah?”

“just wanna make you feel good on your special day baby”

then he’d give you your first one on his fingers

the day would move on according to plan right, but when you got home from your birthday dinner with the whole gang is when he’d really step it up right?

he’d push you against the wall in the living room, right by the front door. “baby, you remember what i told you the other. one orgasm per year?” and you’d just nod because he’s leaning on the wall over you and your head is just a mess

Noah is a munch right. we know this. he’d lift up the bottom of your dress, pull your panties to the side and immediately lick a wide strip from your entrance to your clit

he’d give you number 2 of the day right against that wall

by the time you make it to his bedroom you’re on number 5 and he’s ONLY used his mouth and hands

he’d sit on the edge of his bed and pat his thigh “mere baby. want you to fuck yourself on my thigh”

at this point you’re just desperate, you’re a little fucked out but you refuse to call it quits until he’s inside you and who knows when that’s gonna be at this point

you feel your the edge right there but you’re so tired, so Noah grabs your hips and does it for you

“too dumb to get yourself off huh? don’t worry sweetheart, daddy’s gotcha”

after you cum again, he’ll pick you up off his lap and lay you on his bed FINALLY

“god you’re soaked baby”

“Sir, please. need you”

he’d laugh at your desperation but since it is your birthday he’ll play it nice

he’d drag his cock up your folds just to tease you a little bit

when he finally decides you’ve had enough of his teasing, he’d slowly push himself inside you.

“fuck. you’re so tight. relax angel, gotta relax so you can let me in. yeah?”

he’s the type of man who would grab your legs and push them to your chest so he could really bottom out and FEEL you so that’s exactly what he did

his thrust are slow and steady at first, sweet almost

“happy birthday angel. now you know i love you right? because im about to fuck you like i don’t.”

he 100% wouldn’t stop until you safe worded or passed out tbh

i feel like the ending point was 10 or 11.

your body was so numb and so tired and just on a whole other world when he finally called it quits

you’d definitely end up in sub space

“can you hear me honey? ya with me?”

“what a good girl. did so good for me baby. so proud of you.”

“i gotcha angel, im right here. im going to clean you up now okay? just relax and let me do all the work.”

[mitsuristoleme]

I just saw your requests are open so I might as well jump in BECAUSE SKDNDNSN ok buttttt what about sukuna + his tummy having a mind of its own BEFORE you were their wife, like, you know nothing about this man but everytime you come in sigh you hear the most direct cat calling you've come across only to see a man with an expression of "God kill me now" so you don't know what's happening but it makes you really curious so you just... Provoke him? Like, use revealing clothing, put on an expensive perfume, etc. AAAH I Just love that hc of his stomach mouth having a mind of its own istg aaaa

a/n: ok so im gonna write this in a modern au because lets be real heian era Sukuna did NOT care about dating/courting

formatted into a bullet point headcannon post because im having way too much fun with this and nothing is connected in a cohesive form (pls forgive me for that but my brain is going ham with this concept)

cw: gn!reader, cursing, sexual content, bestie!gojo, Sukuna’s tummy mouth is a menace but wbk

imagine you’re a teacher at jujutsu high and a special grade sorcerer (because i enjoy feeling strong and this is a little self indulgent) (yall can choose if you want to be gojo’s classmate or nanami’s it doesn’t really impact anything)

Sukuna gets reincarnated without a vessel (dont ask me how it just happens ok) and to everyone’s surprise, he volunteers to be an instructor at jujutsu high

he says its to “make these pathetic kids somewhat decent sorcerers so they dont ruin the name of jujutsu”

for whatever reason, the higher ups assign him a spot among the teachers at the school

imagine your shock when this 1000 year old 7 foot tall motherfucker shows in the middle of your class to introduce himself as the new teacher

you’d heard about his whole situation but you didn’t expect him to show up in the middle of a lesson

you attempt to shoo him away but he doesn’t even move (i mean what did you expect really?) and you’re forced to end class early

weirdly enough he keeps a hand clamped over his stomach the entire exchange?? you chalk it down to a stomach ache or something (that night you do wonder if curses, or er, the king of curses, even get physical pains)

ok so before i get into the whole thing lemme just-

in my head, the tummy mouth has the humour of a middle school boy and the self control of the dog from ‘absolutely anything’

so yk. its a mess.

you see him the next day in the staff room

hes wearing a starched white shirt (it accommodates all his four arms and you question how he got one made in a single day) and a pair of fitted slacks, looking WAY too good for a curse

you realise you’ve been staring through the glass window if the staff room and finally enter

only to be greeted by a LOUD wolf whistle followed by a “OOOOH HEY HOT THANG” in the deepest, raspiest, most demonic ass voice you’ve ever heard

sukuna looks like he wants to kill himself.

he gets up and leaves the room immediately

you hear the a faint “NO GO BACK AND FLIRT WITH THEM YOU WIMP ASS HOE” in the same demonic voice as he stalks away

and you’re standing there

wondering what the actual fuck just happened

did you just experience harassment in your workplace?? but his mouth never even moved???

Gojo enters the staff room right after Sukuna vanishes and you IMMEDIATELY fill him in on whatever happened in hopes that he would have any explanation

hes confused, curious and amused all the same time

this doesnt mean hes of any help though

no, the piece if shit just laughs at you and goes off to terrorise the first years take class

before leaving he very unhelpfully reminds you that you have to share classes with Sukuna today

you enter the classroom a couple minutes before the students (you literally have 4 students and one of them is a panda god knows what the point of 2 teachers for such a small class is) and find Sukuna already in the room, leaning back on the chair, his legs resting on the table, eyes closed

once again

looking WAY too fine

just as you internally celebrate that nothing weird happened THE SAME OLD DEMONIC VOICE booms a “DAMN BABY YOU LOOK FINE, CMON LEMME TAKE YA HOME”

“wha- I- Eh??? I’m sorry what the fuhck?!?” you sputter, eyes wide

Sukuna has leaped up from his chair, a mixture of embarrassment and murderous rage on his face

he hisses a “shut the fuck up” in the vague direction of his abdomen before turning to you and apologising

“i am so sorry,” he says sheepishly “i owe you an explanation at the very least after two incidents”

“OI DONT APOLOGISE ASK THEM OUT THEY’RE HOT AND I KNOW YOU THINK SO TOO”

“I WILL LITERALLY FUCKING SEW YOU SHUT IF YOU DONT STAY FUCKING QUIET”

and once again. you’re standing there. shook.

Sukuna turns to you again with an expression that clearly says ‘Gods please strike me down right now’ and asks if you know about him having multiple body parts

you’ve heard of the legends and stories: four eyes, four arms and mouths he can will to appear wherever he wants, so you nod

“Well it just so happens that the mouth on my stomach is sentient, and extremely vulgar. Although i’m sure you noticed the latter.”

his voice is a wonderful contrast to that of his tummy mouth

deep, melodic and smooth

he just got even more attractive.

fuck.

you realise you haven’t given him a response and nod dumbly muttering out a quick “uh-huh”

thankfully the students enter at that moment saving you from any awkwardness

what you have recently come to identify as Sukuna’s tummy mouth stays blissfully quiet throughout the class and shockingly enough the silence on the belly front continues throughout the day as you discuss lesson plans with your ridiculously hot coworker

that night as you’re getting ready for bed, you remember the exchange between Sukuna and his appendage (specifically the part about Sukuna thinking you’re hot) and a mischievous idea forms in your brain (hey gojo satoru’s influence was bound to kick in at some point)

the next day you leave the top few buttons of your work shirt undone and put on some of the pheromone perfume you got as a gag gift in an (what you presume to be potentially successful) effort to rile Sukuna up (lets be real you think hes pretty damn hot too)

clap yourself on the back for that one bestie because the second you enter the staff room, Sukuna’s eyes nearly bulge out of his skull and the tummy mouth starts BARKING

and drooling apparently (how do you know? well maybe because the front of sukuna’s pristine white dress shirt is now sopping wet)

“WIFE THEM UP I SWEAR TO-“

the sound of a coffee cup shattering interrupts whatever was gonna come after that

you’re met with Nanami’s incredibly unimpressed gaze

without saying anything he leaves the room, muttering, “its too early for whatever the fuck this is”

well.

that happened.

yall get together eventually

gojo tells you “i knew you wanted to fuck him”

before you can come up with any sort of response, your boyfriend’s stomach pipes in with a “OH HE DEFINITELY WANTED TO FUCK THEM”

this is your life now.

good luck.

a/n: HI IM HERE TOO THIS TIME!! i left the ‘getting together part kinda up to interpretation because im shit at writing the ‘getting together’ arcs but we’re gonna pretend like it was because i want you to be able to go wild with whatever you want

please dont copy or repost my work without my permission

comments and reblogs are appreciated

check out my masterlist

dividers by @/vanillekiss

[baaby-honeyy]

YES RELEASE PT 2! and tag me pls 🙏🙏🫣🫣

Run (Ruin, pt 2)

A/N: hey… it’s genuinely been like a whole year. i know how much of you wanted Ruin part 2, but it’s better late than never!! i feel horrible, but i really did need the break. now that it’s summer, i should have a lot more free time on my hands. please enjoy, and beware of the dark themes. if you don’t like it, please click away, don’t report. thank you<3

TW: VERYdark/dom/POSSESSIVE/toxic!harry x sub/crybaby/innocent reader, dacryphilia, daddy kink, primal kink, SMUT WITH PLOT!, unprotected sex, spanking, forced orgasms, cunnilingis, oral (male receiving), overstimulation, breeding kink, spit kink, gaslighting. please let me know if there’s something missing.

SUMMARY: When a predator hunts its prey, they search, pursue, attack and consume. Even going so far as to mock, play, and taunt their prey before utterly destroying it. While the predator enjoys the delicious reward after the exhilarating chase, the hunt is what they live for.

Ruin, Pt 1

<><><><><><><>

It started out as a normal car ride. Harry was driving you back home from the park, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the wheel. He can’t help his anger, and he refuses to feel like this is his fault. It’s his mess, but he’s not the one who made it go this far. You were the one who disobeyed his every rule, to the point where his two friends thought they could take his place.

It started out as a normal car ride. Until one missed exit because two, and two became three. Harry doesn’t even know where he’s going, or what he’s thinking. He only knows that you’re sitting next to him, your favorite stuffed animal in hand, and smile on your face like you’re excited to go back to your life at home. Only, you don’t deserve it. Not after you forced him to punish you for being so terrible. Harry’s jaw clenches just at the thought of you sitting next to Drue or Jack. Before he misses the fourth exit, he quickly turns and exits the freeway.

He was hoping you would stay quiet. But, of course, there you go with your dense questions.

“Where we goin, Harry?” You peep, with that squeaky curious voice of yours. Harry nearly rolled his eyes.

“Be silent unless I call for you.” He responds, dull and quick, making a left turn. It obviously flew past your head— because your eyes grow big as you stare out the window, palms pressed against the cool glass. You watch as you seem to get farther and farther from the city, and into an endless roadway of tall trees. You're in a trance for a while, your fuzzy little brain- too focused on how tall the trees are- doesn't even realize how every car that passes becomes less and less as you drive. Until there were none left. No cars, no buildings, and barely any houses.

Staring mindlessly into oblivion, you wiggle your feet in boredom to pass time. Your favorite pair of shoes ever, your pink and white Mary Janes, have been exchanged for your earlier pink shoes. They were truly the cutest shoes you’ve ever seen, your favorite part being the little hearts scattered all over them. They just screamed you, and Harry thought the same. For this reason, you always carry them with you in case you decide to switch.

Turning around to look at Harry, whose eyes are squinted as he focuses on the road, you try to figure out for yourself where you're going. Harry has barely spoken to you the entire ride, despite all the curious questions you've asked throughout the trip. The only thing close to a response you've gotten out of him so far was a plain "Mhm," which made you wonder.

“Y/n.”

“Hm?” You respond perkily, excited to hear Harry calling your name. His eyes have a glimmer of despair and disappointment, rather than their typical blank appearance. You patiently wait for Harry to speak again.

“What were you thinking? That I was gone and they could take my place? That I wouldn’t come back for you? Tell me exactly what you thought.”Harry speaks, taking care to keep his tone steady and low so you can hear how serious he is.

But you can’t, and your little brain can’t understand what you’ve done wrong, no matter how hard you try. You’ve replayed the moments over and over in your head, and still, you can’t see what’s made Harry so upset with you. From the minute you woke up, to the new park Harry took you to, to your favorite park, the ice cream shop and the park again, you thought you’ve done everything right.

“I- I don’t understand, Harry. I did what you told me to, like a good girl..” You trail off. Only shaking his head, Harry reacts to your pitiful excuse for an explanation. He grips the steering wheel harder, making a few more turns.

You have no idea what Harry’s been through to keep you. The countless amount of times where you interrupt his meetings because you’re needy and want to held, the countless amount of times where you’d starve yourself because Harry wasn’t there to eat with you. The countless amount of times where people wonder. They wonder why you act the way you do, why you need Harry so much, just to breathe it seems like. They wonder where he found you and why you’ve remained attached to him ever since.

Harry’s answer is always the same.

“She’s my angel. What matters is that I found her, not how.” And it’s true. It seemed when you two first met, you needed each other to live and function. When Harry considers where it's all gone wrong, his heart can't help but ache.

Something has to happen with you. Something has to make you listen. Harry’s convinced that the guilt he’s feeling is his mind playing tricks on him, trying to let you get away with what you’ve done. So he pushes the thoughts away, and keeps on driving, and driving, and driving.

After a few more minutes of what felt like an endless road of trees, you feel the car come to a stop.

“Where are-”

“Get out.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt, going as fast as you can. Harry’s already out the car, and sees you struggling to move as quick as he’d like. He walks to your side and unbuckles the seatbelt quickly, yanking you out of the car and slamming the door behind you.

“Wha-“

“Don’t speak unless I call for you.”

Harry telling you to be silent- it wasn’t for his own benefit, it was for yours.

He guides you to a forest entrance, and before you know it, the enormous trees are swallowing you. You can only make out the grass and trees.

You’re lost in wonder when Harry suddenly stops, making you jerk to a stop as well. He gives you a long, hard look before removing his jacket and checking his pockets. He pulls out his wallet, sunglasses, and keys before setting them all on the floor. His attention shifts back to you once he covers everything with his jacket.

With a confused look in your eye, you look at Harry, who’s looking at you expectantly. He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly changed his mind and rushes to you. He takes off your sweater, and pauses. You squeak when he begins touching over you, feeling every inch of your body for anything you may be carrying. He removes your phone, and your bag, and throws it next to his things. He took everything he could off your body, skipping your bracelet.

“Harry, what are yo-“

“Are you holding anything? Give it to me.” Harry interrupts, holding out his palm. He impatiently eyes your teddy bear that’s hanging from your clenched hands, and brings his gaze back to you.

“Right now.”

You reluctantly give him your bear, and as soon as you watch Harry cruelly toss him on the forest floor, regret fills inside of you. He didn't even look at where he was being thrown; instead, he was fixated on you the entire time. Your poor bear lays on the ground face down into a dense, dirty pile of leaves. The sight makes you cringe horribly, because you love that bear, and you’ve taken such great care of him like you were told to, when Harry first gave him to you.

You stare in disbelief, and open your mouth to speak, but Harry cuts you off before you can start. He stalks toward you- and you unknowingly step back, his eyes narrowed, and his gaze piercing into your startled one. The crunch sound beneath his feet echo as he steps. He gets closer, having to lean down to get to you.

“Run.”

There’s a lengthy silence before you break it. You can’t stop the smile from spreading across you face, and the giggle from escaping your mouth. Harry looks dead serious, keeping silent with his eyes narrowed down at you. He has no amuse from watching you giggle.

“Harry, we can’t run in the woods! You’re so funny! We can get lo-”

“My God- Y/n, shut the fuck up! I swear to God if I hear even a little squeak come from your mouth..”Harry interrupts you, pinching his nose bridge as he always does when he’s frustrated.

“Don’t make a sound unless I call for you. Unless I call for you. Do you fucking hear me!?” He shouts, his voice strained and his veins popping out of his neck as he speaks.

Still, you can’t help the giggles coming from you. You didn’t even bring your running shoes. There’s no way you’d run in your MaryJanes and risk ruining your most favorite shoes! Harry’s jokes have gotten funnier than ever!

But he doesn’t laugh with you. He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t even blink. You become more and more aware of how drastically the atmosphere has changed with each passing second. Harry’s joke became less and less funny, and more dire.

“I said,” Harry starts, grabbing a fistful of your hair harshly and yanking your head back. You almost yelp at the feeling of your scalped being so harshly pulled. His eyes are full of a darkness you’ve never seen before, and his mouth formed into a snarl. It was enough to make you cry.

“Run.”

You waste no time, only looking back once to see Harry before sprinting down the forest path. You let out helpless, frightened whimpers out of fear that Harry’s right behind you. But he stays back, still in his place as he watches you scramble away like a helpless little mouse. Poor baby, so scared at the much bigger, scary man that was just your loving, protective partner. How quickly things can things can change.

Harry counted to 120. He waited until he couldn’t hear your rushed footsteps against the crunchy leaves of the forest floor. He waited until the sound of your frantic whimpers and pants faded away as you ran. He waited until there was silence. Nothing but him and the towering trees. For a moment, he ponders on why he’s even here- telling his girlfriend to run away from him, in the middle of the forest, like he’s a wild wolf. Then he remembers how horrible he felt when he saw you with Drue and Jack. How he wanted to take you right then and there, not caring about who he’d piss off.

That’s when he starts to run. Green Adidas leave tracks in the mud as he darts through the damp forest. He runs, and he runs, the daunting thought of you cuddled up with his friends in the back of his mind. He’s set on catching you- letting out a growl of determination as he goes. The image of you cowering away- hiding from him in a bush sends blood rushing to his cock, and he picks up his speed.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

It feels like it’s been hours that you’ve been hiding from Harry.

Your hands rush to your mouth, concealing a startled squeal. If you heard correctly, a twig snapped not that far from you. You cower deeper in your bush and grab the massive leafy branch you laid in front of you. You position it to where you’re concealed completely, and once everything goes quiet, that’s when the realization sets in. You don’t even know why you’re running from your kind, loving Harry.

But the way he threw your bear makes you feel like you don’t want to find out. Tears threaten to spill from your waterline as you suddenly become very, very, homesick. You miss the rest of your stuffies at home. You long to be on the luxurious, soft mattress right now, holding your bear close to your chest. You miss Harry’s scent, and the cuddles he’s give you every single night before sleep time. How long are you going to be here? Harry made you leave your phone, your purse, everything.

Snap..

You make an effort to keep your composure as you consider all the potential causes of that sound. Any wild animal could be passing by. A common squirrel can be searching for acorns to bring home to its family. In the midst of all this terror, you smile at the idea of a squirrel packing its face with acorns. The thought of it just takes your mind, until you giggle unconsciously to yourself. Once more covering your lips with your palm, you briefly hold your breath.

Like the last few times, it seems like there is nothing there. But you suddenly hear whistling, followed by Harry's loud yet unsettlingly deep voice.

“Come out.. I know you’re there.. somewhere..” He wanders while cooing in a taunting manner.

“C’mon.. Won’t be mad at you, Baby. I’m the one who told you to run, aren’t I? Are you.. here?” Harry looks in a bush, nearing closer to yours. You watch him closely through the spaces in the bush.

Knowing that Harry won't be angry with you for running away makes you feel relieved. You want nothing more than to be in his arms again, in your warm bed under the covers. Your chest starts to ache at how badly you want it. Mindlessly, and completely lost in thought, you crawl from the bush— but stop and think about what Harry said.

“Don’t speak unless I call for you.” Your mind hears Harry's voice so clearly that you stop. He’s been shouting out things to ease you into thinking it’s okay to come out, but he never once called for you. You praise yourself silently for remembering before you could make a huge mistake.

“How long do you think you can hide before I find you? And trust me, when I do, M’ gonna fuck you dumb. Like the dumb little kitten you are..” Harry’s voice booms across the forest because of the silence.

“You’d like that though.. huh? You’d like me fucking you over, and over, and over… till you’re screaming, begging me to stop. Remember last week on the couch? ‘Oh, Daddy! Daddy! Stop it! T-too much, oh, Daddy! M’ gonna cum!’ “You couldn’t get away from me if you tried your hardest, baby.” He makes fun of you, jogging vivid memories of that day. You make an effort not to dwell on it too much, but you can already feel wetness in your panties, and you start to ache for Harry. How can you be so scared yet so turned on at the same time?

He continues with his little taunts, and searches for any sign of you. A tiny groan escapes him as a reflection of light strikes his eye. Following the reflection, he sees it bouncing off a nearby tree. As he searches for the source of the light, he follows it and fixes his gaze on a another bush. Your bush.

Your eyes fix on Harry's as you continue to observe through the bushes. He doesn’t notice you yet, and you try to see what exactly he noticed. The sun was just starting to set, and the bright sun made it hard for you to see. You shift carefully, and then realize just what he’s looking at— your bracelet. The one you swore to never take off when Harry gave it to you. Why didn’t that come across your mind? The sun was reflecting right on your arm, and when you try to take it off, you only made things worse. He continues searching for you, getting closer, and closer. You don’t make a sound, you don’t even breath.

“Do you think you can hide forever? Huh? Think you can run and escape from me? Well, there’s one thing you’re forgetting.” Harry taunts and teases, sounding more frustrated and desperate. A sudden silent falls upon you, and you wonder if he left another direction to search for you. When it’s clear he’s gone, you let go of your breath.

“I’ll always find you.”

Screaming at Harry’s voice in your ear, you try to escape, but his massive, strong hands grab you by your ankles and yank you back.

“N-no!” You screech. You kick your foot back at Harry, it was surprisingly easy, as if Harry let you go himself. You rose to your feet as quickly as you could and broke into a sprint; you knew that he was holding off on going after you on purpose because if he had wanted to, Harry could have immediately captured you in his arms and destroyed you.

The worst part of it was that, although knowing he'll catch you eventually, he still allowed you to exhaust yourself out of amusement. Instead of being grateful for the opportunity to escape, you were afraid of how much worse he would make things for you as punishment for not just giving up at the very start.

Dodging all the twigs and tree branches that have fallen off, you sprint faster than you ever have before. Although the mud was damp and heavy, you kept your pace. You run and run, and soon think you’ve lost him and you can stop. Before you can even slow down, though, you hear heavy, fast footsteps behind you. Turning around as you run, you see Harry gaining on you, an unnerving, malicious smile wide across his face. You give it all you’ve got, and pick up your speed.

“That’s right, Y/n.. Run, run!” Harry shouts behind you, an exasperated rasp in his voice. A helpless, scared whimper comes out of you as you try, you try so hard to run faster and faster. You can't help but bump into a few low-hanging branches, leaving small scrapes on your arms and a terrible tear in your pink sundress, which is now filthy. Your MaryJanes have unbuckled because of fast you’ve been going, and your feet start to slip. Your body aches so much. You want to stop and ask Harry why he’s doing this to you, but that eerie smile you saw just a few minutes ago keeps you moving.

Your eyes well up with tears. You can’t even see where you’re going, it seems almost pointless to run now. You almost stop. Your ears start to fill with the obnoxious noise of passing cars, and you cringe at the sensation. The last thing your little head needed was a headache, and you’re already prone to one from all of this exertion. But when you realize that is your ticket out of here, your eyes widen from adrenaline. Moving your legs faster, you head for the sound of the cars, which was luckily straight ahead. Harry notices where you’re headed, and attempts to catch you before you get there. He’s right on you. You know he is - because you can hear his condescending laughter coming closer and closer.

Another reminder that while for him it was fun game, for you it was almost life or death.

The more you run the more you can see your exit. It’s so, so perfect. You’d run out towards the street, towards civilization where people can see you in broad daylight. You take a look behind you, and notice Harry isn’t behind you anymore. It doesn’t bother you too much, the thought of being out of the forest takes all of your concentration.

You’re getting closer.. and closer.. you can almost feel the sunlight hit your face. Almost reaching the concrete, a smile of victory appears on your face, before completely disappearing. You rush into Harry's chest head-on, your eyes widening so much that you lose your balance and land on your ass. Before you can flee, he kneels down at your shaking body and grabs you by the hair.

“Gotcha.”

You gasp in terror as you stare up at him towering over you and it makes you realize just how manic Harry looks. His clothes are surprisingly in one piece, and as clean as they were before. His shaggy brown hair is all over the place, some clinging to his forehead from sweat. His eyes, beady and wide as they maliciously stare down into yours.

Although you're certain that you both appear the same, Harry has an unsettling stature about him that you’ve never seen so close before. He chuckles darkly, enjoying every second you have that horrified look on your face.

“You stupid, stupid baby. Stand up and take that pretty lil dress off— Daddy wants to see all of you.”

You cry. You can’t imagine how uncomfortable you’ll be once you take off your dress. The forest air was so humid, and you knew it wouldn’t be kind to your skin- especially your princess parts. Harry frowns at watching you hesitate at his orders, and smacks you lightly across the face. You let out a piercing yelp, and Harry only rolls his eyes in pity of you.

“Go on, then. I want the dress off. Shoes too.”

Completely sobbing again, you stand yourself up, and slowly pull your dress over your head. You cringe at the harsh humid air attacking your skin, making your nipples immediately harden. Harry remains looking down at you with a slight smirk. His eyes wander on every part of your body.

“What should I use first, hm?” Harry brings his hand to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your chapped lips.

“Your pretty mouth? Or..” His eyes travel downwards, and you can feel his sharp gaze pierce through the skin of your thighs.

“That tight lil pussy of yours.. or..” He continues, making you cringe at what else he could possibly want from you. His hands trail downwards, down your chest and in between your thighs, stopping at the center of your panties. Using his index finger, he toys with you a little bit— sliding his finger over your clit and in your folds as best he could through the cloth. You can’t help your whimpering as you feel the moisture in between your legs worsen. When you feel Harry’s hands go downwards past your panties, you start to squirm away again. You and Harry have done it almost every way possible, but never down there; it has always been far too difficult for you, and the concept of it has terrified you to your core.

“No! Harry, stop!” The words come out in a jumble as you struggle to run around his tall, towering body. You manage to escape from his grasp, but of course Harry’s insanely strong arms keep you back. Instead of grabbing you this time, he throws you to the ground, where you helplessly crawled until he caught you by the ankles. He revels in the way you think you could ever escape him. He keeps you in that position for a bit- you being face flat on the ground, back already arched for him.

“Why’re you trying to hide from me so much, hm? Daddy’s not that scary, is he? Bet you loved it.. and your pussy—” Harry yanks your panties to the side in a split second, giving you no time to prepare for the forest humidity on the most sensitive part of you. A wide, cheshire like smile spreads across his face once he sees your soaked pussy, and whether you like it or not— it was begging to be touched.

“S’wet, isn’t it? Yeah, just like I knew you’d be. You’re crazy, just like Daddy.”

He flips you back over, taking you by the hair once again to make sure he has enough to be able to yank you if he wanted. You whine in protest. The harsh forest ground was already hurting your fraile little body.

“God, Y/n- you squeal so fuckin’ much.. Think I’ve decided, baby. M’ gonna use that lil mouth of yours.. shut you up for a bit.” Harry almost whines in annoyance, getting to his feet and unbuckling his belt. He does it in a rush, like he’s growing impatient of watching you beg, and lets his pants sag to his mid-thigh.

“On your knees, c’mon.” Sternly, Harry commands you, only giving you a split second to do it yourself before he does it for you.

“N-no.. Harry! Harry, no! Stop.. Daddy, Daddy, please!” You screech, using his name, his proper name— to get him to see how desperate you are.

Harry took his erection out of his boxers as you winced and tried to turn away, but he put a palm on your head to show you. Choking on your sobs, you swallow before giving him another look— begging once more. Harry couldn’t care less, and brings his tip to your chin. You did nothing; and Harry roughly shoves two fingers between your lips to get you to open.

“Don’t fret, kitty. It won’t be too rough,” Harry grumbles, contradicting himself though— not even warning you as he shoves his massive length down your throat. You gagged immediately, letting out a pathetic mewl which sent vibrations straight to his cock.

You only let his cock sit in your mouth, your eye already watering at how painful it is to keep your mouth wide enough for Harry’s length. He lets out an annoyed sound, thrusting his hips to gain some movement.

“Y/n, come on. You’re fucking dumb, but you’re not that dumb. Suck on it.”

Out of reluctance, but lacking other options, you pursed your lips and hollowed out your cheeks. He immediately lets out a groan, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the tree behind him.

“Shit- knew that’s what I was missin’- your cute lil mouth. S’ all it’s good for, huh? Suckin me off and talking back- fuck- keep going, baby.”

You close your eyes in concentration, trying your hardest to ignore how your jaw feels like it’s going to fall off. It’s not like you’re not used to this though, or haven’t done this before. You love to please Harry, and you love to suck on him when you can— sometimes even begging him to let you have a taste. But this was different though, it felt as if he genuinely didn’t care if you felt bad, just as long as you were making him feel good.

You slide your head back, just enough to bring your lips right on his tip. You give his cock little kitten licks, your favorite thing to do— before swirling your tongue all around.

Harry moans, bending his knees a bit before steadying himself again. His eyes rolled back before he shuts them again completely.

“F-fuck, good girl! Don’t call you Kitten for no reason- that’s right, be a good girl and keep sucking for Daddy.” He says in a pant, using a hand to brush his hair back before bringing it back down to yours. He pulls your hair back slightly to guide you in the pace he wants. Swallowing harshly, he opens his mouth to speak again.

“Been thinking about this since the ice cream shop, babydoll. You act so innocent but you just love this, don’t you? My lil fuckin’ slut.”

Tears are filled to the brim of your eyes, but you keep on going. Taking your hand, you reach for Harry’s balls and squeeze them as you go.

“Mhm- yeah, should’ve done this in front of Drue and Jack, maybe they would’ve gotten a fuckin’ hint,” Harry says through grunts and moans. Looking down at you, you already look so worn and tired. Your knees are bruised already, your mascara’s running down your face, and your teary, red eyes droop down from exertion.

Harry almost cums from the sight of you crying over his cock.

He thinks about how horrible this all must look; you being completely naked, on your knees, shivering while sucking his cock. He’s still almost fully clothed, and completely comfortable. He loves it— you need to suffer. This is all your fault.

He thrusts his cock even deeper down your throat, but you move your head farther away. As soon as you do, Harry shoves your head down again, indulging in the sight of you so desperate for a break. You struggle and fight for air, pushing on Harry’s thighs desperately, but it only made him thrust his cock faster.

“Mm!” You try to tell him it’s too much, you can’t breath, but it’s no use. His thighs clench harshly, and let’s out a strained groan, which leaves his mouth open slightly. He uses you to edge himself just a bit more, before he decides he’s already become bored.

It felt like ages, but Harry did eventually let you go. You pulled back with a choking gasp and cough. He looks down at you pitifully, a hand slowly rubbing his aching cock. You wipe your dripping tears, feeling your heartbeat quicken when you feel Harry grab you up by the hair.

Whining, you find it difficult to move when he pulls your hair up, but you move rapidly when you notice Harry's angry expression. In one swift movement, he flips you around, your bare backside on his front. He groans when he feels your ass pressing against his still hard cock.

“Baby-baby, baby, baby…” He says in a whisper, so close to your ear, you almost whimper at how sensitive it feels on your skin. Harry holds you in a chokehold with one arm across your neck, and the other trails down your body. He moves so excruciatingly slow, almost tickling you. His hands stroked your stomach, glided down your thighs until he reached between your shaking legs.

All Harry had to do was flick your miserable clit once, and you almost died of pleasure. He knew you were cumming as soon as he felt your poor pussy throb against his fingers. Letting out a shriek of surprise, you almost fall to your knees before Harry’s strong arms catch you. You hadn’t even realized how riled up you were until you squirting all over Harry’s hand, your poor little body shaking tremendously against his.

Even Harry looked surprised for a second, watching how hard you’re cumming from one single flick. You ride out your unexpected orgasm, wailing and whimpering Daddy— over, and over as you came down from your high.

Once you’re done, Harry shoves you away from him, and turns you so you’re forced to face him once more.

“You’re having too much fun.” His tone is so velvety smooth, yet so heartless and demeaning— you can never understand how he does it.

“AH!” You wail, crying out as Harry shoves you harshly towards the ground for like the fourth time. It hurt a thousand times more because you had nothing on. The sticks and forest dirt scrape you vigorously, you have to bite your lip to keep from screaming again. The same sadistic look in Harry’s eyes teases you, watching as you wince in pain below him.

“Ow! Daddy, that hurt!” You whine, your voice wavering from holding in your tears. Harry gives you another “pout.”

“Aw, my baby. Did Daddy push you too hard? Hm? S’hurting you?” You mentally let out a sigh at Harry sympathizing with you for the first time today. It makes you want to forget about everything he’s said and just leap into his arms.

“I don’t fucking care. I don’t care that it hurts,” Harry goes on, the soft tone he used at the start of his sentence completely diminished, making you feel so, so, hopeless.

“You didn’t care how much it hurt to see you with those two bastards, did you? Should’ve known you were too fucking incompetent and dull to understand simple orders.” He begins to take his shoes and clothes off, eyes brutally locked onto yours. He brings his pants all the way down, and with a swift movement, he brings his shirt over his head. Coming to the ground, he climbs on top of you and brings your wrists all the way above your body.

Like the big bad wolf closing in on his victim, he beams at the thought that nothing—not even you—could stop him from torturing you in whatever way he chooses.

You whimper in fear immediately, squirming helplessly under him. You’re eyes go wide when you feel his strong fingers press on your sensitive, raw clit again. You cried out, “Too-too much, AH! Daddy, no.. mm!”

“Too much? I haven’t even begun with you, Kitten.”

He brings his hand to his throbbing cock, stroking it a few times before rubbing it slowly on your pussy. You don’t know why, but this time, looking at his massive length scares you more than any other. You’d be lying if you said his cock didn’t intimidate you every time you saw it. So huge, so thick and veiny— it was imposing, and it always, always hurt when Harry entered you. You knew your sensitive pussy couldn’t take him right now.

“Why, why?” You cry roughly, squirming away again, of course being stopped by Harry’s strong body. His muscles flex while trying to hold you still, and his front strands of hair fall onto his face again.

“Because.. I love to watch you squirm. You know your poor, tiny baby cunt can’t take me.” He pauses.

“But, I feel bad for you. So I’ll give you a count. Five seconds, okay? Go.”

You open your mouth to count, the words falling from your mouth so quietly. As you go, you feel Harry enter you slowly, and you wince at how tight you are, and how big he is. You’re on the fourth count, but you stop, squirming around so much that Harry’s cock falls out of you. It wasn’t in yet, you gratefully sigh— and continue your attempt to leave.

Harry’s bored now. In fact, he’s been bored for the last 10 minutes. He’s sick of hearing your pointless, pathetic begging. He’s sick of your moving around while he’s trying to fuck you. Maybe he could stuff some leaves in your mouth so he can finally make you silent while he has his way with you. Or, maybe he can leave you here all by yourself, with nothing but dirt on your body, while he leaves and enjoys the silent car ride he’ll have to himself. He decides both of those ideas aren’t good at all, because he won’t be able to hear your pretty chokes and gasps when he finally enters you.

Decisions, decisions.

“Look, Kitten— I’m going to fuck you now. Unless your moaning and begging for my dick, you better shut your fucking mouth.”

You cringe. How could Harry be so mean? You’ve tried to get away. You’ve tried to do what he wants, but it always came back to bite you.

“Fucking useless,” Harry mutters. “Count.”

You have no choice. There’s no way out, you’ve realized that now. You always have, but this time you’re finally admitting it to yourself. So, you count.

“One.. T-two..” Harry slowly enters you as you go. At least you’ll be able to prepare for him to be fully in your tight entrance.

“Thr- AH!!” You lunge forward in surprise, eyes rolling back in pain.

“AH! DADDY, MY- You scramble your words, screeching at Harry entering you in one hard, unforgiving thrust. He ignores your tight pussy trying to squeeze him out.

He doesn’t care at all if he’s being cruel, not when your sorry pussy was right there, just waiting to be taken advantage of.

“Oh, fuck.. yeah!” Harry groans out, laughing in the process. He laughs at how miserable and betrayed you look below him.

“Y-you said.. you said..” You choke on your sobs, looking at him through half shut, red teary eyes. Your tiny hands grip his shoulders for support.

“You said count till five!!”

He laughs at your hurt, broken voice.

“Mm, did I?” Harry says, a pondering look on his face, before a sarcastic, devilish one takes its place.

“Sorry, Kitten. Guess I lied.” He barely pays attention to you, pulling out and then thrusting deeper into your walls. He savors your tightness, squeezing him so hard he can barely move.

“How do you stay this fucking tight? Hm? S’like the first time I had you.” He says in groans, his eyes rolling back before staying on you.

“Why- why did you lie?” You can’t help but ask. This whole day has been lies, lies, lies.

Harry doesn’t bother to answer your dull question. He harshly grabs your thigh and pins it above his shoulder so he has a better angle at fucking you. In his head, he curses himself for not bringing a condom, but immediately smiles at the thought of what could happen next.

He’s not completely opposed to the idea of knocking you up, plus, your sweet, sweet pussy is too heavenly to have it be masked by a stupid condom.

You can only look up at Harry, who’s smiling— and you wonder what could be making him smile while you’re enduring such pain. Your chest heaves and your limbs flail around with each thrust. Harry’s so, so, unbelievably big. How does he manage to fit inside you every time? You can never describe how full you feel every time he enters you.

“God- my baby’s got the best pussy out there, yeah-” Harry grunts at how harsh your pussy’s gripping him. He glares down at you, seeing your droopy, shut eyes and the tears streaming down your cheeks. He leans down a little and kisses your tears, gathering the salty taste on his tongue.

“Open those pretty eyes, Babydoll.” He says softly against your skin.

“Open those eyes and cry harder f’me, Darlin’. Like a little baby.. Y’know Daddy loves that, right?”

The raw, filthy sound of you and Harry’s skin coming together fills your ears. His intruding length just rips through you again and again, making your eyes roll back from pain. A strained whine rises from within you.

“Harry.. Daddy.. Stop… hurts so much..”

Harry doesn’t hear you. He chooses not to. He continues to pound into you relentlessly, growling as he picks up his pace. Even with the dirt and scrapes covering them, he can't get over how soft and velvety your thighs always are. He’s in love with your small whimpers and your big eyes pleading for help. He’s in love with how in denial you are, and how perfect his cock fits inside you.

It makes him wonder; have you thought about being this intimate with them? When he punished you in the car, was that what made you confide in them? Did they say something to make you turn away from him? He’s not sure he wants to know. If he did, it would only lead to bad things.

You can’t help but follow Harry’s orders, and you cry harder and harder from the pain. Your mouth falls open, you look up to see Harry move his mouth in a way that’s all too familiar.

“Uh uh.. Daddy, no.. mmh!” Whining in protest, you attempt to turn your head away from Harry, who grabs your jaw roughly.

“Open, Baby. Open, Open..” He forces his fingers in between your lips, and gathers up some saliva from his mouth. He leans down closer, so close to your face that you can feel his breathing hit your face. You hold out your tongue in obedience, tears still constantly streaming down your face. Spit trails from Harry’s pursed lips, falling on your tongue before sliding down your throat. Harry slips his fingers in your mouth again, moaning at your now over-salivated tongue coating his fingers.

The way Harry’s fucking you has him on the verge of tears. He’s in control again. He’s the one who has you wailing from how good he fucks you. Nobody can do that but him. He watches your precious tears fall down your face, and he feels nothing but joy. You can almost feel your little brain struggle at trying to figure this out.

You, crying in a mixture of harsh, stinging pain and pleasure, and him, crying because of how good it feels to be back inside you. How good it feels to have you cry, kick and scream for him to stop because you can’t take anymore.

“Sh-shit! Look what you’ve done.. have me acting out like this..” Harry says in a strained groan while blinking his tears away. He’s appreciative that you shut your eyes, preventing you from witnessing his moment of weakness.

You yelp as you feel Harry continue deeper in you, hitting your spot. The familiar knot in your stomach begins to form, and you cry because, no matter how hard you try, you can’t help it. Your helpless, needy little pussy aches and aches, and it only aches for one thing. Subconsciously, you whimper out Harry’s name, over and over, biting your lip and clawing at his back. Your eyes roll back until you see nothing.

Harry sees how you’re holding back, you’re trying not to cum, and that makes him more than angry. Growling, he brings a hand to your neck, his big, veiny hand choking you slightly. You’re forced to stare at him right in the eyes, seeing the different glints of black, brown, and light green reflect in them.

“Do you seriously think that’s going to work? Hm?Answer me!” Harry shouts the last part, his hand gripping you tighter around the neck as he keeps his pace inside you.

“Do you really think your sad, pathetic pussy could ever not cum when I’m inside you? Look.” Harry exclaims, pulling out slightly, not all the way- just enough to be able to go deeper inside you. He thrusts deep until he reaches your spot again, watching at how distraught you look. Your body shakes and you whimper under him, and if that wasn’t proving his point, your poor pussy closes around Harry’s cock like a vice.

“Think you can deny me.. yeah? Think you can turn away, disobey me and there won’t be any consequences?” He speaks in your ear, making you whine at you sensitive it feels.

“Daddy’s gonna fill you up, Kitty. Gonna cum inside this pretty pussy.. I’m gonna breed you till that test says positive -ah, f-fuck!” He lets out a strained sound- like mixture of a groan and a whine. He feels his cock twitch repeatedly inside you. He’s close, and he knows you are too.

“You won’t be able to deny me then, huh, baby? Won’t be able to deny me when you’re carrying my offspring in this pretty lil body..” He says tauntingly, bringing his hand from your neck to pet your head slowly.

“Ah- oh my God!! Harry, don’t wanna-”

“Not God, you silly, dumb baby. Just me.” Harry interrupts, placing a soft kiss on your nose before moaning out. His thrust are becoming less stable and more erratic, you can feel it. You clench your pussy more in hopes you can hold on longer, but your body gives up, and your pussy starts to throb around Harry’s cock.

“Yeah.. C’mon! Give it to Daddy. Let Daddy have it, baby. That’s right!” Harry’s face contorts into that malicious smile you saw when he was chasing you earlier. Bringing a hand down to your clit, he rubs vigorously to make it extra hard for you to hold on. He watches your eyes widen as your body finally gives in.

“DADDY!” You screech before breaking into a complete sob, your legs giving out from being up so long.

You’re cumming. There’s nothing you can do to stop it. Your limbs flail around, and your eyes remain rolled to the back of your head. Your pussy throbs harsh and fast around Harry’s cock. You whimper, whine, groan- almost every kind of sound leaves your opened mouth as you shake harshly under Harry. He stares at every involuntary reaction your body has towards him, focusing hard on all the small twitches and movements. How your back is arched so high, how you always, always bite your lip.

Harry will never get tired of knowing that he’s caused that. You’re full of his veiny, fat dick - the only dick you've seen this close, the only dick that's ever been inside of you.

The edging, the messing around, it’s all caught up to him.

“Y-yeah, baby. Daddy’s gonna cum- fuck! Daddy’s gonna cum inside your pretty pussy, alright? Want Daddy to cum inside you? Hm?”

He grunts out, watching you frantically shake your head no. You know what he wants, he admitted it himself. He wants to breed you, make you his forever.

“No.. don’t do it, Daddy..” You begged beneath him.

“Aw,” Harry starts with another one of his condescending pouts. “How am I supposed to pull out of a pussy like this?” He grins, before mocking the desperate expression on your face.

“You keep squeezing me tighter and tighter, Sweetheart- just know this pussy wants to milk Daddy’s cock. Gonna fill you-” He interrupts himself, moaning out as cum pours out of his pulsating cock, and coats your walls. He continues to thrust in you, gripping your hair as he goes. Filling you with his searing, hot cum, it makes you feel so so full. You feel it so deep inside you, claiming you, making his mark inside your body. Just like he wants.

You wanted so badly to not want this, but God, you love how it feels when Harry fills you up. You’ve always been obsessed with feeling his cock twitch and pulsate inside you.

Harry stays inside you for a little while longer, watching you still shake and cry helplessly under him. Though you’re quiet, tears still fall from your cheeks and splatter onto the forest ground. After a few moments more, and Harry pulls out of you slowly, immediately moaning at how all your juices pour out when he does.

He brings his fingers to your sopping pussy, fingering all the juices and cum back into you.

“Mine, mine, mine..” Again, he speaks more to himself, until he looks back at you.

“C’mon. Say it. Be a good girl for Daddy and say it,” He says in your ear.

“Who do you belong to?”

Harry’s hoping inside that you’ll say what’s right. If you do, then all this can be over and the both of you can go back to the way things were. He wouldn’t have to punish you anymore, because he’d know he did his job.

You open your mouth to speak, and a hopeful yet menacing smile appears on Harry’s face. But, your mouth closes, and you turn your face away from him. If you kept eye contact, you would’ve seen the most dark, and wrathful glare Harry could ever give you.

You wanted to say you belong to him, because you do, you know that you do. But you still don’t know what this was for. You thought being close with Drue and Jack was what Harry wanted! When Harry left you in that park, you went to seek comfort from his two best friends. How could that have been so wrong? Would he rather you do that with some random stranger? You still don’t understand.

“Fine.” Scoffing, Harry gets up and quickly puts back in his clothes, leaving his belt off. You gulp, a sinking feeling in your stomach telling you that you know what’s coming next.

Harry grabs his belt, beginning to fold it in half, until he pauses completely.

“Y’know what? Not gonna need it.” He says, callously discarding it somewhere beside you.

“Daddy-” You begin, trying to find a way to compromise with Harry. If you were correct about what was coming next, you were going to do everything you could to stop it. Feeling the scrapes and small gashes on your legs reminded you that your fraile body can’t take that much pain.

Sitting back down on the forest floor, Harry effortlessly brings you back onto his lap. He makes sure you’re on your stomach, propping his left leg slightly so you’re ass remains up in the air. Slowly, he rubs his fingers over your sore ass. His gaze shifts to you, withering at his touch. Your soft sobs continue on.

“You have one more chance, Babydoll. One more.” Harry begins, continuing his slow rubs on your ass.

“It’s really not that hard, I’m sure even you can understand this. All you have to do is say the right answer.” Tauntingly, Harry rubs your hair to calm your nerves.

“Who do you belong-”

“NO!” You screech, completely overpowering Harry. He cocks his head slowly to the side, getting more pissed off by the second. You look up at him, uncomfortably twisting your head to make eye contact. He sees your little pathetic look of determination and laughs.

“No..? What do you mean no?”

You clear your throat before attempting to speak again, trying making sure you sound as big and bad as you can be. You don’t deserve a spanking, you know it. You’ve been nothing but good to Harry. He brought you all the way out here, chased and fucked you until your body gave out, and now wants you to answer a question you know you shouldn’t answer. You just want to be back home in bed, watching your favorite cartoons and stuffing your face with all your favorite food. Instead you’re here, being punished and still not knowing why. You’re angry- No, you’re infuriated.

“You’re just jealous because Drue and Jack can treat me better!”

Horrible idea.

Immediately after saying that, your hands fly to your mouth as if they can take back what you just said. But they can’t, and that scares you to the core. Harry’s face is wrathful, and he narrows his eyes as his pupils grow beady.

“You dumb, pathetic girl.” You think you hear, not being able to comprehend it because of how low Harry spoke. It’s silent for a moment, before your piercing screech breaks right through.

“AH!!”

Harry brings his hand right on your ass, the sharp sound of the slap filling your ears. Your body jerks in response to the pain, and your tears flood your face.

“DON’T!”

SMACK!

“YOU EVER!”

SMACK!

“DISOBEY ME!”

SMACK!

“AGAIN!”

SMACK!

Harry grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head all the way back. Your body is arched as far as it can go, making you whine in pain. He harshly tugs again before bringing his mouth to your ear.

“DO YOU HEAR ME? DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?” He shouts, making your sensitive ears feel like they’re going to fall off. He harshly spanks you again, and again, and again, your body jerking helplessly at every blow.

“Y’think those dimwits could ever take care of you? The way I do? No- better? You stupid girl! Go ahead and see for yourself! They don’t know shit!

You try to get away before he can spank you again, but it’s no use. His grip on your hair won’t budge, and there’s no way you’d be able to leave if you want your hair still attached to your scalp. You see his hand lift up again, and you brace yourself for the blow. This time was even harder, making your ass move harshly at the hit. Harry spanks you again, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed with frustration.

“You need me! You know it! You and your stupid pus- look at it! Look at this stupid-“ He cuts himself off, letting your hair go and using both hands to spread your ass cheeks.

“Look at this stupid fucking cunt- you’re still wet!” He callously spanks your still sensitive pussy, and you wail as you grip his thigh.

“HARRY! AH-” Your wails are interrupted by Harry spanking you again. You don’t know how much longer you can take this. It hurt so much, you almost feel numb. Your poor ass was now an angry red, bruised and so beat up. Harry doesn’t care, he continues lashing out on your poor body.

“Go ahead and scream, you pathetic baby. Nobody can fucking hear you!” Harry taunts, never stopping his blows to your ass.

As he goes, you remember a certain sentence from Drue, when you were on the bench with him and Jack.

“Someone as innocent as you shouldn’t be with someone as fucked up as Harry.”

The moment plays through your head clearly, making you realize something; Drue and Jack were trying to get to you all along. They danced with you, touched you, and even tried to take care of you, all while Harry was gone. It made you realize that Harry was right the whole time.

And that only made everything worse.

Your sobs grow louder as Harry continues spanking you, taking turns on each cheek. You don’t even fight anymore, knowing full well that you deserve it. You were bad. You should’ve just listened to Harry, instead you were stubborn, like you always were.

“Daddy..! I’m sorry! I’m so- I’m so sorry..” You begin, still wailing like a little baby over Harry’s lap.

“I’m yours, Daddy! I’m yours, only yours!”

The spankings stop as soon as Harry hears those words. For a while, Harry doesn’t do anything. He leans back against the tree, watching you completely fall apart on his lap. You sob and sob, your body helplessly twitching from being so stimulated. A few more long, excruciating moments pass before you feel Harry grab your torso and flip you on your back. You still remain on his lap, and your eyes begin to flutter shut as you see Harry’s eyes stare right down into yours.

“That’s my girl..” He whispers ever so gently above you. That was mainly for him to hear. His hands wander slowly and carefully up and down your body, feeling every part of you that he could with just his hands. He makes his way to your chest, grabbing and squeezing your precious boobs before he kisses them softly. Next, his hands wander down your waist, tracing your curves until he got to your thighs. Your beautiful, luscious thighs. He could never do without them. He loves them for multiple reasons. He loves to lay on them, kiss them, bite them.. He loves when he’s face deep in between your thighs.. and how you wrap them around his head to push him deeper. To feel his tongue deeper in you.

Slowly, you shift so you can sit perfectly in Harry’s lap. He doesn’t help you. He watches as you helplessly crawl back to him. Once you get fully comfortable without hurting yourself, you bury your head into Harry’s chest.

“Da-Daddy.. H-hurts.. everything hurts..” Your voice is strained, like almost everything else on your body, and you shiver as the cold wind begins to pick up.

“I know, baby.. I know.” Harry grabs his jacket and wraps it around you tightly before trapping you in his warmth.

“Shhh. It’s okay Darlin’. See? that’s all you needed to do. Just needed to tell Daddy you’re his- I know, baby.” Harry sympathizes with you, trying to ensure that you know he’s no longer cross with you.

“S’okay now, I promise.“

Nobody knows how to tear you apart and put you back together like he does.

“Let’s get this pretty dress back on you, yeah? Y’know this is one of Daddy’s favorites.” He starts to reclothe you while maintaining a low, soothing voice for you. Wiping the dirt and dander from the forest floor, he attempts to unwrinkle it as best he can. He locates your MaryJanes and applies the same treatment to them, taking care to remove the obvious stains from your most precious shoe. Once you are both off the ground, he gives you a long, passionate kiss on top of your head.

“You did a good job, baby.”

You’re silent. You acknowledge him with a barely noticeable nod, too tired to give him a full response. With one arm, Harry carries you against his hip all the way back to the car. Somewhere along the path he noticed your body fall limp in his arms, your head laying helplessly on his shoulder as fall asleep. He places you in the passenger seat of the car, buckling you up before going back for your belongings.

Harry did get the peaceful drive back that he wanted. Your soft, faint snores with the low sound of the car engine are all that can be heard. Still, memories of that day at the park continue to nag at him.

There are a lot of things about that day that Harry will never admit. How when he left you at the park with Drue and Jack to make phone calls, he was in his car, spending the majority of his time jerking off to the fading taste of your juices that were left on his tongue. If he's being truly honest with himself, the fact that his friends genuinely thought they could replace him, turned him on even more. They don't know the closest thing about taking care of you, and how to take care of you when you're acting up. How to take care of you when you're crying and crying about something so stupid.

The days that follow show just how much the little run around in the forest impacted you. Your body has been so sorely used and strained that you're dependent on Harry for help with nearly everything. You can’t even use the bathroom or sit in a chair because of sensitive and worn out you are. Harry’s lap is the only thing your body can withstand. And your pussy, your poor pussy still hasn’t been recovered from being so fucked out. The slightest bit of contact between your pussy and literally anything makes you clench your legs. Harry of course helps you with everything, giving you massages and relieving the aching pain in your pussy whenever he can. He’s always conveniently there.

He tells you that you’re a big girl and you can handle this, but you don’t how much more you can take before you rip your hair out. It’s like being stimulated 24/7, which nothing and no one but Harry to help the pain. You’re indeed suffering, but Harry couldn’t feel any more accomplished. Now more than ever, you need him, you rely on him, just like you always should. You’re ruined. It shows in almost every aspect.

Yes, Harry couldn’t be anymore satisfied.

<3 @love-letters-to-uranus

[dollydaisies]

Can I pls request a BTS reaction? They have a crush on their friend who is not a celebrity, so they can't confess to her because of their reputation/job, but they are really close. One day someone from their company revealed a sensitive information about them. So, the members and the company accused her of it because they thought that she was only with them to become famous. They didn't believe her and also told her many hurtful things. But later it was revealed that it was not her but someone else and she was telling the truth. Later they try to reconcile with her and asks her to forgive them but it was too late. Can you please write it as angst?

If it's too specific for you, you don't have to write it. Thank you anyways ☺️☺️

my first ask! thank you so much for sending this! my bts skills may be a tad bit rusty, so i'm sorry if this isn't up to par with your expectations. im doing allll the research i can! some things may be changed up a bit, but i'm trying to stick to your prompt the best that i can!

summary: forbidden love hurts, and it sometimes builds up frustration inside you, which then turns into flipping out on the person you love nonsensically solely because you're overwhelmed. they had to learn to think before they act, and, now, they're suffering from the consequences of their actions.

characters: just to test the waters and see if you like what i'm doing, i am only doing kim namjoon. if you like this, i will continue with the other members i’m comfortable writing! please tell me if i did well or was a lil' off. i'll always take constructive criticism:)

kim namjoon never meant to hurt anyone, but he especially made sure that he would not hurt you. he cares about you so much, to the point where seeing you even slightly sad could mess up his whole day.

you're bts's songwriter and producer, but also their friend. when they make plans, they want to include you, always. even if they go to the beach for a run bts episode, they want YOU to be there after the cameras are off. of course, every single member of the group wants you to be around, but namjoon insists on it. you're his safe place, the person he confides in when times get hard--why wouldn't he want you there?

"are you sure you don't want to come with us on this tour?" namjoon looks at you with full passion in his eyes. he wants you to come with them, even if he won't directly say it. "you know that we will always want you to come with, right?"

that little "we" always gets you every time. sure, you know that it's true, and so does he, but that's not what you want to hear and that's not what he wants to say. you want to hear him say "i want you to come with," but it feels like he refuses to say it. he's only not saying it because it'll make his feelings too real, and he can't deal with the reality that you can never be his.

"ah, i know, joonie... but i need to work on the ideas you all gave me for this next album. it's the final one before you all go on hiatus, so i can't take a break," you respond, playing with your bowl of ramen without eating it. you're the only two in the kitchen, and it's quiet. "i'd love to go, but i just can't afford to right now. you know i'm short on money."

namjoon sighs, but nods. "i understand. it's just gonna be hard to be on tour without you."

you send him a sweet smile, then giggle softly. "you're such a baby, did you know that?"

"it's our little secret, keep it hush."

that wasn't the secret that destroyed everything you've built with him over the past decade, but it was more of a foreshadow. you felt excited at the idea of having a secret with him, but also dread--this is silly, though. you guys have thousands of secrets. you're best friends, and you always have been, so why is your gut telling you to fight or fly?

around a week later, dispatch reports on news that namjoon has never told a soul about--except for you. the moment his brain processes the information told to him by the higher-ups, he immediately gets up from his seat and marches to your usual spot that you linger in.

"get out."

"huh?"

your face is full of pure confusion, a bit like a deer in headlights. sure, you've had your arguments and fights before, but he has never been this harsh off the bat--hell, he was rarely ever truly harsh.

the way his eyes look at you with pure disgust, and the sarcastic laugh he lets out... it feels like you don't know who's standing in front of you. yeah, it's namjoon, but... it's also not.

"i knew you were desperate for money, y/n, but i didn't think you'd be this desperate. if i knew you were like this, i would've fired you sooner."

"namjoon, what the hell are you talking about?" you stand up from your seat, yelling at him a bit. it's obvious you aren't even mad, you're just a mix of confused, scared, and worried.

"you know what i'm talking about, y/n. hell, the rest of the world does as well, since you decided to go to dispatch about it."

he holds up his phone so you can look at the site he pulled up. you scrolled and scrolled in pure shock, confusion, and disgust. "i... namjoon, i did not rat you out to anyone. why would i?"

"people like you only care about money. figure it out, and get out of this dorm."

absolutely stunned, you walk to the door in complete silence, then turn around. he looks a bit lost in thought, then he finally sees you. you, whose eyes are full of tears; you, whose cheeks are red due to how panicked you got from him yelling; and you, who refused to yell at him back even when he disrespected you.

while he was so sure he was right, a pit in his stomach grew larger. he feels like he’s doing something bad, something wrong, and he doesn’t know why.

"i just want to say," you pause for a second, then continued. "if this is the real you, kim namjoon, maybe i should've been the one to expose you after all."

you slam the door.

months have passed, and you work at a local music store. sure, you write songs still, but they're not for anyone else except you. you refused to talk to all of them, talk about all of them, or even think about any of them. in your mind, bts disbanded the second he broke your heart, and your trust. truthfully, it’s unfair, as all the other members have texted you so many times and begged for a response, but you can’t think of them without thinking of him.

the store is completely empty, so you're scrolling through every single social media app you have downloaded brainlessly. the words you're reading are not completely processing in your head at all, they kinda just look like funky shapes.

one title, though, caught your attention.

"kim namjoon talks about trust, compassion, and friendship in recent SEVENTEEN interview."

your jaw clenches, and you slam your phone down. your tears are threatening to come out, but you refuse to let yourself still be hurt by him. he doesn't deserve your time, your tears, your anything. that's, at least, what you keep trying to convince yourself of, anyways.

the bell at the door rings, and you try to regain your composure. you

"welcome to good vibes, home to all of the--"

you freeze. you don't know what to do, what to say, or how to even move. are you supposed to say anything? it's not like he’s saying anything—hell, he has a mask over his face and a hood on his head, but you KNOW it’s him. now, he’s just staring at you blankly. you’re wearing a mask, so maybe there’s a chance—

“y/n,” namjoon softly says your name, and your heart pangs against your chest. it’s a mix of heartbreak, anxiety, and all the leftover love you have for him. “i was looking for you.”

you’re so nervous, you could burst into tears. you want to hop over your desk and run into his arms and tell him how much you miss him, but also how much you hate him for hurting you so much. why do you still love a man that said such unforgivable words?

“why?” your words were a bit breathy, and you began to chuckle a bit while shaking your head. “there’s nothing left to say—unless, y’know, you’re gonna tell me all i care about is money again because i have a job.”

“i’m sorry,” namjoon sighs, then walks to you. the desk separates you, but you wish you could fall into his arms. you keep your composure all the same, though.

“that day, i was so stressed. it felt as if so many things were happening at once, and to know that a secret that i only told you got out… i felt so much betrayal all at once, i didn’t want to hear you out. if i’m being completely vulnerable, i wanted to go cry,” he let out a small chuckle.

looking at you, your face was completely unreadable. it’s like you were thinking of so many things, but also of nothing at the same time. was he doing well? he doesn’t know. he’s just going with what he feels in his heart.

“in my heart, i knew i should’ve ran back to you and apologized; in my heart, i knew i should’ve heard every single word you said, because you would never lie to me,” namjoon balls his hands into a fists, then looks at you in the eyes, “so i’m sorry it took so long for me to realize that i was wrong.”

the store was tense, and all you could hear is the music playing so softly in the background as you stare at him. he’s trying to read your expression, to see if there’s any bit of leftover love in your eyes, but it just feels cold.

after a minute, you begin to laugh. it’s a full laughing attack, actually, and namjoon just stares. his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach, because he’s not stupid—he knows this means he’s fucked up.

“what, did you think was a kdrama, namjoon? did you think i was going to hear that apology, jump into your arms, and say, ‘oppa, never hurt me ever again!’ or something?” you say these words while still laughing, and namjoon is still stunned. “what happened for you to come up here and say this to me? based on your new change in personality with… hating poor people and all, i can’t imagine you just woke up one day and did it.”

“we found who actually did it. it was our stylist, sooyoung.”

“so that’s what it took for you to finally realize i was innocent? instead of thinking back ro everything you said to me and how hurt i was, it took them finding out the real person behind the crime for you to realize i was telling the truth?”

you slam your hand on the desk, and your body is trembling. you’re on an adrenaline rush, but you’re also sad, scared, and angry. namjoon notices this and places his hand on yours, like he always used to.

“y/n, you’re shaking, please ca—“

“i don’t give a fuck, namjoon,” you yell, and namjoon is completely frozen. “i’ve known you since you were a trainee, and, yet, you still thought that i was some… freaky gold digger that would sell her friends out for money. do you know how much that hurts? to know that you think i have the potential to be like that?”

namjoon’s eyes begin to tear up, while your eyes have already overflown. your cheeks are entirely red, and you let out a choked sob. your head drops, and you let out a dry chuckle.

“for over a decade, i have been nothing but loyal and true to you; yet, it takes a full-blown investigation for you to realize how you did me wrong,” you then look up at him with no sympathy in your body. “it’s my turn to tell you to get out, namjoon. and, for your sake, never come back. i never want to see you again.”

he hesitates to walk away, and you’re staring at him, emotionless.

“what, are you deaf? get out.”

namjoon finally leaves, walking quickly towards his car, and you fall to your knees. you’re on the cold floor, shaking and crying, as you realize your life will never be the same ever again.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

❤️ Loved By You ❤️

Summary; Eddie's ghost haunts Hawkins, Lovers Lake, The Hideout, the benches in the woods near Hawkins High, and especially the Trailer Park.

All your life you've heard of the poor souls who died in Hawkin's earthquake of 86.

Most passed on, Eddie wasn't so lucky he's been stuck in limbo for thirty-four years, fading in and out as time passes, trying to find companionship but failing.

That's until he meets you.

Love transcends death and happy endings can happen even when all hope seems lost.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. 18+, minors dni. Soulmate au

I don't give anyone permission to copy, repost or reuse my work.

If you enjoyed this pls consider reblogging, etc. It's much appreciated. ❤️

I hope you all enjoy it, it's a long fic and I hope you all love it as much as I do. ❤️✨

❤️

All your life you had heard about the great earthquake of 1986 that happened in Hawkins.

Every year the town held a vigil for those that died, your best friend's parents Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington held a special service along with Dustin Henderson and Robin Buckley for one person in particular.

Eddie Munson. The ghost of Hawkins, an urban legend whose name was whispered about by adults and whose legend was infamous.

Once accused of killing three high school students from Hawkins High, those of whom were in his (third) senior class.

Until Jim Hopper, Hawkin's most famous sheriff for a whole lot of things, the most amazing being coming back from the dead- or escaping the prison he was held at in Russia.

Anyway, Jim had cleared Eddie of any wrongdoing after his death, in fact, according to Dustin, and many others he had died a hero, helping save others during the earthquake.

Dustin told a lot of stories about Eddie, you'd heard a few when you hung out with Alice, it was bittersweet though because you could see how much pain it caused Dustin to talk about Eddie but he said he had to talk about him because he never wanted Eddie's memory to be forgotten.

You wondered what Dustin thought of the Urban Legend regarding Eddie's ghost. Over the years many people claimed to see Eddie, some were stoned, drunk or a little bit of both.

Others were curious, trying to find out if the tales of Eddie's ghost were true. Double dares to go deep into the woods and call out his name, mentions of the faint sounds of a guitar playing when everything was silent at The Hideout, the cave in Lovers Lake was a hot spot for activity too.

Some part of you yearned to know if it was true, even though the logical part of your brain dismissed it as nothing more than an urban legend.

Plus, you had seen how upset the rumours made Dustin, how much he hated that his friend was used as a laugh for dumb teenagers and even some adults looking for a scare.

Unfortunately, as much as you didn't want to entertain the rumours, some people were all for finding out if the ghost of Eddie Munson was real or not.

❤️❤️

Todd Carver was your ex and to say he was a dick was an understatement. You had dated him for two months and grew tired of his arrogant and boastful demeanour.

Graduation was fast approaching and you wanted more out of life than Todd and his asshole tendencies.

It was just your luck he was still part of your friend group however you did your best to avoid him.

He had been trying to get you to date him again but you just weren't interested.

You hear him goading someone and your stomach fills with anger when you notice its Dustin's son Ben.

He was exactly like his dad, you were very protective of him and follow Todd as he and his friends Calvin and Sam push Ben into the woods.

You can hear their laughter and it infuriates you.

"Come on dude, call out for Munson, didn't your daddy give you Eddie for a middle name? Talk about morbid man"

"Shut up" Ben snaps and you hear those morons laugh again as they tease Ben.

"Leave him alone!" you march up to Todd and he snorts.

"Come on Babe, we're just messing around" you glare at him. Steve said he was like his Uncle Jason in miniature, he didn't like to speak ill of the dead but apparently, Jason was an asshole, Todd was just like him.

"It's not funny Todd, Get lost asshole" Todd snorts.

"What? we just wanna know if Eddie Munson's ghost is real or not? What's wrong with that?" he replies innocently but his eyes are full of malice.

He imitates a ghost and at that exact moment, a branch falls and hits Todd, leaves fall on him and his eyes widen in shock and a small hint of fear.

"It's Munson! Let's get out of here" he rushes away with Calvin and Sam at his heels.

Ben smiles, relaxing as he watches them go.

"Thanks for helping me" You ruffle his hair and tell him to get back for his last lesson.

As he heads away you turn to look at the fallen branch and leaves and frown curiously. There's no wind? Was it an old branch or something else? Something spookier?

Then there's a voice behind you and you freeze on the spot.

"God, that Todd dude was a dick right?" when you turn around he's standing near the benches, arms folded across his chest.

His hair is wild, dark brown and long. Big brown eyes filled with annoyance, some of his tattoos visible and he's wearing a Hellfire t-shirt and jeans just like you saw in the pictures Dustin has on his mantelpiece.

What the fuck.

"He's related to Carver? Can spot that asshole smirk anywhere" Eddie grins at you.

"Shit, you're really... I thought you were a myth or some urban legend passed around by stoned guys and campfire tales" he snorts.

"I'm as real as it gets princess... The smile falls away from his lips, still very much dead though, which is shit"

You sit down on the bench feeling a little bit dizzy, you can barely believe what's happening.

"The branch" you ask faintly and he smiles, it's heart melting, all dimples and a hint of cheekiness.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Just that dick Carver. You dated that douchebag? Could do a lot better princess" you stare at him still processing everything.

"How did you know that?" he shrugs and sits beside you, the temperature drops a little.

"I'm a ghost, I hear all kinds of shit. Disappear for weeks on end, then come back again. It's confusing being stuck in this limbo world"

"I'm sorry" you reply feeling his sadness so acutely that it takes your breath away for a second.

"It's kay, not your fault. It's nice sticking around sometimes, even if I can't do much. Haunt the dickheads that come out here sometimes though the bullying little shits, keep track of Hellfire Club which is cool, amazing how massive it is now" he looks so proud.

"I know Dustin, Steve, Nancy, Robin. They've told me all about you. You died a hero" he gets up and smiles faintly.

"Decided to stop running, sometimes I wonder if it was sheer stupidity more than bravery"

"Bravery, not stupidity" you assure him and there comes that dimpled grin again. It makes you feel out of sorts, tingly.

"Must have been an awful earthquake" you sympathise and Eddie nods wincing.

"Yeah, was more concentrated on dying at that point though" this confuses you and you say so.

"It wasn't the earthquake that killed you?" he stares at you puzzled.

"No, it was the bats that killed me' he points to the tattoo of the bats on his arm. Ironic right?"

Wait... What?

"Bats?" his eyes widen.

"Shit you don't know?" he cringes and then turns on his heel and disappears. You call him back, curiosity piqued.

What the heck didn't you know? What was going on? More importantly, you just talked to Eddie Munson.

It's a thought that should terrify you but it doesn't and you find yourself anxious for the chance to speak to him again.

❤️

Eddie must be as curious about you as you are about him because he appears again at the edge of the woods while you are talking to your friends.

Anticipation fills you and you want to talk to him so badly, quickly.

You're a little breathless as you catch up to him and sit on the bench.

"Can you tell me what you meant about the bats, please? If you're okay to talk about it. I understand if you don't. The memories must be awful" he pauses for a few seconds then nods.

"Okay, I'll tell you but be warned. This shit is crazy. You might not believe me" you pay him rapt attention.

"Try me" and with that he begins to tell you everything.

You just talk a lot, he opens up about what really happened in Hawkins in 1986 you're stunned and have so many questions.

Demobats, Vecna, The Upside Down, The Mindflayer, The earthquake that rocked Hawkin's was caused by Vecna killing four people, their friend Max was the last death and it literally opened the gates to hell, where The Upside Down bled into Hawkins.

There was a massive group in Hawkins including Dustin, Nancy, her brother Mike, Steve, Robin and a super powers girl named El that fought against the monsters.

The evil was defeated but Max passed away and that caused a huge fracture in the group as well as Eddie's death.

"Sucked watching all the shit going down, doing my best to help when I could. When I wasn't vanishing for months at a fucking time" Eddie murmurs and his tone hurts your heart.

"Thank you for telling me Eddie. I really appreciate it" he offers you a warm smile and sighs as he looks to the darkening sky.

"You should get home, it's been hours" the darkened sky surprises you and you swear.

"Shit. Dad is going to be so pissed" You gather your things and Eddie clears his throat.

"Can I see you tomorrow sweetheart?" your heart melts at his hopeful expression and you find yourself aching to see him too.

"Count on it" you assure him. He sticks around to make sure you get to your car safely, he's gentlemanly and it's so sweet that you are smiling all the way home.

❤️

Even though you are still stunned about talking to a ghost you enjoy talking to Eddie, you talk a lot about many things and even though he disappears sometimes he always comes back.

The time between his disappearances begins to shorten as he mentions to you one day.

It's the first time he appeared outside your window you were just in your nightie and it was kinda cute watching Eddie stammer out his apology and turn around while you pulled on your robe.

If he could blush you're sure he would.

"Come in" you call to him and it's still pretty cool watching him go through things. He's beaming, something has made him happy and it makes you smile too.

That cute grin of his is infectious.

"The disappearances are shortening princess. It's like an hour now compared to hours or even weeks before we met"

It's amazing this is happening because you miss Eddie like crazy when he isn't around.

"This is amazing" You reach out without thinking and grab his hand, you except to feel cold, nothing at all.

Instead there is only a tiny chill as your fingers interlace through his and he is gazing at you in shock.

"You can feel me?" he whimpers and you nod tightening your grip on his hand as he squeezes your hand back, both of you are at a loss on what to say but it's also so wonderful what happened that you're both grinning at each other in a happy bubble.

❤️

Betty stares at you curiously as you doodle in your notebook, you don't mean to but you're doodling Eddie's name in little hearts.

Fuck. Over the weeks and weeks you had been getting to know each other, his form more solid with each passing day you're feelings are deep and growing by the day.

The truth was you were in love with Eddie.

"You've been lost in thought, daydreaming and smiling to yourself. What's going on? Are you in love with someone?" she asks excitedly.

Your heart speeds up but then comes crushing heartache and tears spill down your cheeks.

"It doesn't matter. It can't ever happen" she looks so confused as she rushes to comfort you.

"I don't understand honey" she wouldn't be able to.

How could you explain that you were head over heels in love with a ghost?

💕

It was a quiet night. Just you and Eddie. His body so close to yours, you bridge the tiny gap between the two of you and lay your head on his chest.

He feels so solid so real and for a few precious seconds you forget that you don't hear his heart beating. That it can never beat. All that matters is that Eddie is here with you.

That's until your doorbell rings and you groan getting up, you can hear that its Todd before you even see him and feel pissed. What the hell did he want?

You open the door just wanting to get this over with.

"Babe! It's been weeks and weeks. Graduation is next Friday! I've been super patient but when are you going to take me back?" you gape at him.

"Uh, how about the first of never? We broke up for good Todd because you're an arrogant bully" he looks stunned for a second.

"This is bullshit! You've met someone else haven't you" There's a shadow upstairs near your room, it's Eddie.

He's protective and you know he won't take Todd shouting at you lightly. However you're well versed in dealing with this dumbass.

"It's none of your business. Go away, Todd. You and I are never going to happen again" he scowls and reaches towards you to grab your arm.

"What are you doing! Let go!" his eyes darken and your heart sinks but then he comes to when you wrench your arm away and he snorts.

Then the next second he's literally flying out the door and lands right on his ass outside. You slam the door shut and head back upstairs knowing Eddie is annoyed.

He is quiet as you head into your room, still fuming that Todd thought you would ever want him back.

"Of all the arrogant, conceited assholes" you huff and you turn to Eddie who is resting on your bed his face blank.

"Eddie?" he gets up, he looks so tense and you move closer to him and gently take his hand.

"Eddie?" he turns to you and he looks forlorn, it makes your heart ache so deeply when he hurts, you hurt.

"What's wrong? Is this about Todd? I don't want him back. You know that right? He's such a douchebag and... He turns away and when he turns back to you his gaze is cold.

"Yeah, he's a dickhead but not every guy you meet will be. You'll find someone special, look at you. You're amazing, sweet, kind, beautiful" his words warm your heart and yet you still feel anxious.

"I don't want some guy. I... You're all I think about Eddie" It's the first time you've admitted out loud even though it's been obvious between you two for a while now.

He shakes his head, his eyes shining but his face set and angry.

"You can't sweetheart. I'm not even here, not really. You can feel me and I can feel you, yeah but it doesn't change the fact that I don't even have a fucking heartbeat"

"It doesn't change the fact that you have no future with me"

There's silence and he begins to fade.

"Please don't go" you beg and he smiles sadly.

"I can't be selfish sweetheart, you deserve someone real, someone who can be with you properly, that can't happen while I'm hanging around. Goodbye princess, thank you for making me happy for the first time in thirty five years" his hand gently strokes over your cheek.

"No, no" you beg but he disappears completely and he doesn't come back, not even for your heartbreaking calls.

Even if it breaks the heart that no longer beats inside of him, he knows he has to stay away.

❤️

It's been a week since Eddie left, sometimes you think that you catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye, smell his cologne when you wake up in the night but it's all just wishful thinking you realise.

You can't even explain to anyone why you're heartbroken, you feel so alone.

Graduation passes by and while you're happy that you and your friends will be together at the newly built Hawkins academy, there is still a heaviness in your heart that is left by Eddie's absence.

For a second you swear you see Eddie at the edge of the forest but he's gone the next second and you're sure much to your disappointment that you imagined it.

He really wasn't coming back. The thought broke your heart all over again.

❤️

The next night you find yourself wandering around Lovers Lake. All your friends are here and it's a massive party for all seniors.

As they party you head off on your own and find the cave that Eddie supposedly haunts, you just want to feel close to him for a little while.

The tears you've been holding in since yesterday fall and you cry it all out, all the heart ache and pain.

"Please don't cry," you think you imagine Eddie's voice but when you look up he's watching you, he looks agonised.

"What are you doing here, I thought you were staying away?" you wipe your eyes and stand up shakily. He swallows and moves closer to you.

"It's hell. Like a physical constant ache, it never goes away, the longing to be with you. When I'm not with you I'm in agony. Didn't know being dead could hurt this much. Hurt even worse than when I died"

Your whole body shakes with tears.

"I feel the same way, it feels like I can't breathe Eddie, it hurts so badly" he reaches out to you and his hand rests on your cheek.

"How can I stick around though? I'm just keeping you from moving on, finding someone who...who can really be with you" he spits out the words, the devastation in his eyes breaks your heart.

"This isn't fair. Life sucks ass you know that?" this brings a smile to his face and you cuddle into him, then you peer up at him.

"I love you Eddie, I'm in love with you" his expression changes, it's like happiness radiates from him and it fills your heart with joy.

"I love you too sweetheart, I'm so in love with you" his lips meet yours and you kiss passionately, pouring all of your love for each other into the kiss.

The kiss is incredible, perfect. You kiss for what seems like hours until you slowly part, Eddie's lips press to your forehead.

Then something weird happens, and Eddie's eyes widen. He stares at you for a second and whispers "Princess"

Then he's just gone.

❤️

Eddie expects to disappear and then re appear within an hour or so.

Instead of an hour it's barely a minute and something feels wrong. One minute he's in The Upside Down and he's bones and dust, the next minute, as if by magic he can feel his body coming back together, bones forming once more, skeleton then his body piecing itself back together, he opens his eyes and he can hear the most wonderful sound that he's heard in thirty five years.

The sound of his own heartbeat. He can't even comprehend how this happened. How he is alive once more.

Maybe magic did exist? If those creatures, the demobats, MindFlayer, Vecna and another dimension under Hawkins then who's to say that magic wasn't real?

A miracle had happened that's for sure. Tears burn in his eyes and he knows so much has changed over the years, his friends are grown up, his uncle an old man.

And yet he was given a second chance, another chance at life and he wasn't going to waste a single second.

At first he's unsteady on his feet, he cuts himself some slack. Shit he's been dead for so long.

Somehow though he gets out of the cold desolate world of the destroyed Upside Down.

He crawls his way out of hell and into the light.

❤️

It's a couple of hours later, you're at home and the sun is beginning to rise. Bird sing fills the air as sunlight fills your room.

That perfect kiss with Eddie fills your mind. Was it a goodbye kiss? Something didn't feel right when he disappeared and it's troubling you what it is.

"Princess" you peer up and Eddie is at your window, you race over to open it and he comes in.

"I thought you were gone" tears blur your vision and you throw your arms around him.

It takes a second for you to realise that he's warm, so warm, Eddie smiles through tears as he says something to you.

He's beaming, absolutely radiant,his whole body is solid and through your haze of tears you hear the words he's been saying to you.

"Princess, listen" he places your hand on his chest and you lean in close.

Thump, thump, thump.

You can feel the steady thump of his heart beat. It's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard.

"How?" you're barely able to gasp out and he shakes his head, he has no idea either.

"After our kiss, I woke up in that place, everything was desolote and there was barely any sign of an exit but I crawled my way out of where my Uncle's trailer used to be" he closes his eyes.

"I was down there in the upside down but then I got to the surface, I could feel the sunlight, hear birds singing and could feel my heart racing, by some fucking miracle I was brought back"

"I've been given a second chance to have a new life, connect with Dustin and the others, spend my life with you if you'll have me, you're the woman I want to spend my life with" you kiss him elated.

"Yes, yes, yes. I'll be by your side through all of it Eddie". His eyes darken in a delicious way that makes your whole body tingle.

"There's so many people I want to see but first I really want to spend the morning making love to my girl. Does that sound good to you Princess?"

"Yes", you manage to say as his arms wrap around you pulling you close to him.

For the first time you make love, feeling Eddie's body close to you, the way he makes you feel is everything.

Mind-blowing orgasms sweep over you both but the absolute best part is when you cuddle into his arms sleepy, when you wake up he's dozing peacefully, there's a smile on his face and you sigh content as you rest your head against his chest.

His heartbeat lulls you back to sleep once more, a smile on your face as you slumber.

❤️✨

[kavehater]

HOW TO ASK FOR REASSURANCE ?!?!!!!&&&:8292@1”1’ssmakqpa

[fantomette22]

GIRL HELP, now we are both in the club of people whose caring for Miquella reached its FULL form because of the DLC hfgfjgdbh I think what I've lacked this whole time was a coherent idea on what his imperfections and flaws were! Because "well you see Bewitching Branch is kinda fucked up concept" didn't give me enough. And I feel like I've struck gold with the whole thing of him not being able to accept Radahn's character development and nature as a warrior. It is soooooo wrong and reminded me of one of the ways to look at Gehrman.

It took me a few weeks but finally me 🤝 you at having the time of our fandom lives with Miquella now

I KNOW RIGHT?!?!?! Yeah it's quite crazy. We took our sweet time but here we are! 🤝

I mean maybe I wasn't way too much invest in elden ring because of the huge bloodborne brain rot taking all my time too 😂 But also Elden Ring is really a lot to digest! You and I really like details and to care about every lil guys! In Bloodborne even if there's lot of characters it stays limited while in Elden Ring it's just SO enormous O_O there's too much and yeah I didn't got that savage brain rot yet while just playing the game a year ago+

And I knew dlc was coming so I guess I didn't get too much invested either? Or at least it was inconsciently.

So yes during and after the dlc and after digesting everything I somehow really learn like Miquella! We know way more now and idk but it's even more interesting now!

Before dlc I saw him like : poor lil guy tried smt to become a god (pls don't it's gonna be bad) screw up really big time & he's dead now 😔 you tried your best... he was too good for this world rip

But now it's more develop! there's actually a following to that! he didn't just fail big time! for now😰

I said a few weeks ago I was gonna wait to finish the dlc and then speak about Miquella and what I think of everything. Well maybe I will do a separate post later but I think it's finally time.

So let's dive in (warning spoilers shadow of the Erdtree DLC)

I know it's a bit of mess between people thinking "I was right he's the ultimate evil!!! He's like Griffith!" (what 💀)"and people being very mad at other or distraught by it bc now this get shown into their face while they were just happy with Miquella being a kind lil guy, to good or pure for this world... I want to believe many people are actually very middle ground on this but hm yeah smt it's not good and quite extreme.

But if that can help (at least I will try here ) with everything we got I might have an interpretation that I hope, could help out a few people. I can't say I'm right, I'm probably far from it but I appreciate what I deduced and put together a lot! (in my head but still) It made me really like and invest more in Miquella character now! And it make me at peace with what the dlc brought to the table. I can accept that more well now. That made everything have more sense and made Miquella really have a bittersweet/tragic path & ending. And I am ok with that and I think others could be as well.

I like Miquella I think he was mostly good, the kindest between this darker lands. But he needed to changed, to grow to succeed in his goals right? Because he got stuck. But by growing up, discarding parts of himself to be a "better version" of himself that would succeed & become a god is what eventually doomed him in the end :

Miquella discarding part of himself tragedy.

This is just so sad and tragic. But it might be oblivious. He wasn't "strong enough" in his current position/eternal childhood etc So he probably thought that make the sacrifice to become a god would succeed in the end. A necessary sacrifice...that he would be stronger able to finally obtain his goals... But by doing that he loose everything that made him himself... without realising it... he abandoned everything. And the more he abandoned, the more he didn't realised he was loosing himself what he cared about... and how it was a mistake. (I suppose that Marika might have gone through the same thing now...)

Trina realised it at some point. That it was wrong,t hat it wouldn't work anyway perhaps. Is it really worth it? Is it really gonna work? Probably not... But it's too late to go back now. She knew Miquella before everything would probably not approve of what he became... of the dangerosity of what he could be...

That just... sorry it's just so tragic I don't know how to express it sadden me so much...

Bewitching people :

We already knew that he somehow "bewitch people" but it wasn't very explained in base game and really up to interpretations. Now we know more. And it sparks a lot of things...

I completely agree that you know, half mind control people and changed people thoughts and individuality, personality etc hm it's bad. it's no good to control masses. BUT but, I can kinda understand why Miquella did it! And I'm gonna try to explain that now.

Ok, imagine you're Miquella. You're trying to get people to join your cause. Of course like for exemple the crab hunter or farmer have other things to do than join your cause so sure you let them be. But then imagine you talk with smn and then they just hate you and is going to say shit to everyone about you and then they're gonna try kick your ass. Wouldn't it be better, even if that's bad on paper, to bewitching them? make allies your enemies?

You can't reason with some people at time even if you try everything, sadly. You can either go away or fight or ask a competent authority to stop them. But if you had a way for them to magically stop wanting to harm you and become more friendly / on your side wouldn't you use it?

Like it's bad but I can understand why Miq did it. But of course forcing people who were neutral bc you think "you're better" is hm... not great too... but it's not clear how much it happened and what went though he's mind. He probably thought it was a good thing. But no but can we blame him for trying to have better world?

And it's still not clear how his mind age but I do think he still have lot of quality/default of what any child mind have. He probably didn't see the wrong of everyone becoming allies and use kindness not violence to it. A child mind (mostly) is innocence, optimistic etc I do think he lost a lot by discarding parts but it has it's backsides. An adult would be more incline to find solution and act accordingly to treat but loose a lot of "childhood good sides" as well. it's quite complicated but nothing is perfect in this. You wanna agin smt you loose another you can't have everything and life's not black & white.

Also about Mogh. Yes he's not fuck up like that! But I understand why Miq bewitching him. Hm Mohg, maybe would have just kill Miquella to get his amazing blood for whatever purpose with the formless mother anyway. So of course Miquella did that to try to gain a potential ally that in other case is very dangerous for him. But still I think Miquella had to improvise after Mogh took him and then when the cocoon didn't work. Yeah I still think Mogh has a LOT of issues. He's not a saint and I don't think it went well with Miquella's plan to have been taken by him.

Radahn thoughts:

I mean I'm still a bit like : wu wut what but why??!!?!? confusion

But it's a bit better now XD I swear if the devs originally had another idea I'm gonna be mad! But it can maybe made a bit of sense. I don't really have much thoughts bc I'm still confuse about it but I think understand the point.

Radahn, when younger, was probably all the noble qualities that had Godfrey.

And Miq was probably like : When Godfrey was Elden Lord it was the golden age everything was great! Nothing was wrong! The lands between had stability. Radahn have the potentiel to be like Godfrey!

Also Radahn : Let's conquer and make war like lord Godrey!!!!!!!!!!!

I mean yeah everything was great between stability and war 😅 so jkefjf help like I can understand ou need smn to fight of ennemies just in case but Miquella that's not gonna work. Like at some point there's pb. Like who you consider anomy.. should you reprimand everyone?? Like Marika and her cycle of violence?! dzbkdsfbhkbhkld

Also I wonder if the great runes didn't made many demigods "change" as well. It gave them more power and maybe it screw their mind too. (And when Miquella great runes break the bewitching spells stop so..... before he got the runes maybe he never used that. And maybe that's why Radahn changed so much too) Power really does change people hm?

So anyway sorry idk if I succeed to organise everything coherently XD I tried. So yes I think Miquella is nuanced but was mostly good because of many conditions and he tried to fix everything but loses everything in the end... by discarding who he really was... a necessary sacrifice, that would ultimately fail...

I got very emotional after beating the final boss and going one last time to Trina. I really cried a lot. Because it's freaking sad. All the sacrifices in vain... they deserved so much but the world was cruel.

And even if we did nothing. What change? Nothing. He never came back in the lands between if we finish the main game. Did you abandoned everything Miquella? Did it not work out? Or like should we blame the poor devs. Idk it's very confusing now. The lands between still a mess, the lands of shadow too. He never came back...

The only ray of hope is us, the tarnished to try to make a better world for everyone. The one they couldn't make themselves...

(Ok so hope make sense 😅 and maybe it will put everything in a new light for people and give them a hand! I got way more invested and happy! Even if that's sad. I started to imaging little story and headcanons about his childhood I would never have before... it's confusing but if I am right the devs succeed! good job)

[freeuselandonorris]

love ur point about the gender of it all!!! it’s one thing i wish i saw a little more of with landoscar, obviously alwaysagirl!fic is always lovely but there is something to be said about exploring gender/gendered language with them amab as well

this is not a prompt/request really (unless you want it to be 😈) i just wanted to set this thought free from my brain. i myself lack gender almost entirely so writing it does not come naturally to me lol, but if anyone else has any thoughts to contribute pls do!!!

hi anon, thank you so much for this message, i couldn’t agree more!! i am increasingly wild for all forms of genderfuck where lando is concerned.

i know you said this doesn’t have to be a prompt but i couldn’t resist bashing out this little scenario for it in my notes app lmao. thank you for the inspiration!

(i also have a max f/lando WIP which i need to go back to that explores feminisation far more explicitly and disgustingly than this 🫡)

“What’s this?” Oscar says, picking up the slim tube from Lando’s bedside table. It’s pink and shimmery, with a gold lid.

Lando flops back to the bed next to him, T-shirt riding up as he stretches. “Lip thing. Gloss. Some girl left it here last week.”

Oscar rolls his eyes and unscrews the lid, sniffing cautiously. It smells sweet, a bit like marzipan. “You can’t just call her ‘some girl’ when you’ve had sex with her.”

They talk about it sometimes, while they’re having sex. What Lando’s been up to with the girls he meets at clubs and on Raya, or what Oscar’s been doing with Lily if he’s seen her. Oscar’s not quite sure why, but Lando seems to like it, describing his pussy-eating technique or asking Oscar about fingering. Oscar’s not great at talking about that kind of thing, but Lando never seems to mind when he stutters and stumbles over his words.

“What’s the point,” Lando says, and leans over to take the tube of gloss from him. “You don’t know her anyway.” He pulls the wand free of the tube with a slightly obscene slick pop, inspecting the glob of pink on the tip off the applicator. “She was hot, though. Reckon I’d suit this?”

It’s such a non sequitur it takes Oscar’s brain a second to catch up. Lando’s staring at him with a slightly guarded expression.

He looks at Lando’s mouth. It’s a very nice mouth. Shapely, with a full soft bottom lip and a curve to his top lip. He’s clean shaven again, pretty and delicate.

“Yeah,” Oscar says honestly. “You could probably pull it off.”

Lando smirks, and lifts the applicator to his mouth, smearing it with gloss. There’s no finesse to it; another swipe and there’s shiny pink all over his Cupid’s bow, well outside the boundary of his top lip. He looks a bit like a kid who’s been sucking on an ice lolly.

“You’re making a right mess of that,” Oscar says.

Lando pouts, but it doesn’t last longer than a second when Oscar licks his thumb, brings it up to Lando’s mouth to neaten up the edges. He smooths the tip of his thumb around the skin, wiping it clean.

“Here,” Oscar says, softly, and takes the tube of gloss from Lando’s hand. “Let me.”

Lando’s eyes close when Oscar touches the lipgloss wand to the centre of his bottom lip, smoothing the gloss carefully along each contour until his whole mouth is pink and shimmering.

“Go like this,” Oscar says. Lando’s eyes flicker open, and Oscar presses his lips together to demonstrate, the way he’s seen his sisters do. Lando copies him, rubbing his lips together to distribute the gloss and parting them with a smack.

“Do I look pretty?” he asks, blinking up at Oscar.

“You do,” Oscar says, because it’s true. Even though his body ripples with muscle and he’s only just shaved off the beard. Underneath it all, Oscar’s always thought he was pretty.

He’s half-expecting Lando to roll his eyes and squawk and laugh, but instead he takes a shuddering breath and blinks hard, the way he sometimes does when his contact lenses are drying out.

“Like a girl?” Lando asks, quieter now. He doesn’t quite meet Oscar’s eyes as he says it.

Oscar hesitates, unsure which answer Lando’s looking for.

Lando licks his lips, frowning slightly at the taste. Then he bites down, sharp little teeth digging into the glossy flesh.

“Yeah,” Oscar says, mentally crossing his fingers. “Pretty like a girl.”

Lando’s eyelids flicker. His lips part, and he leans in close, so close Oscar can smell the sweetness of the gloss.

“What kind of girl am I?” he says, coy. “A good one or a bad one?”

He likes it, Oscar realises. Relief washes through him, mixed with something else that twists his gut with desire.

Oscar screws the cap back onto the gloss and tosses it back onto the bedside table with a clatter. Then he pushes his thumb between Lando’s sticky lips, right up to the webbing. Lando’s cheeks hollow automatically, tongue hot and wet as it curls around Oscar’s thumb.

Lando, his good girl, with his wicked mouth smeared with gloss and thick cock tenting his shorts. He can see the appeal.

“Oh, I think you’re a very bad girl right now,” he says, watching the corners of Lando’s mouth curl, pleased. He hooks his thumb around Lando’s teeth, pulling downwards until Lando gets the hint and drops forward to his hands and knees, pressing his cheek to Oscar’s thigh. “But I’m sure you can improve with practice.”

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 15

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

It's chapter 15! Time to figure out what happened to SQQ in the latest cliff hangar.

Today no tea- but I did have a blackberry cider that was very tasty.

I also did impulse buy a baby's-first-fountain pen to get into my little writing flow and add to the ambiance of my note taking journey. So, pls ignore the worse-than-usual writing; I am learning to write with it.

let's goooooo!

Well, SQQ appears to be in a coffin? p29

fuck, i'm already smudging the ink with my new pen. The lefty curse of it all. IDK how much of this is going to be legible later. RIP

okay... but how long has he been in here? MXTX is describing everything as dusty as hell. p30 (resolved as I read further- not very long LOL)

and he has his original body! That's exciting! Who did it though?? p30

LOL SQQ has 0 chance with this "advanced level plot" p31. He is totally fucked for sure.

These 'blind corpses' sound like a walking horror show. I would be so scared omg. I don't know how far the animated series got- but if this is animated that would look cool as fuck. p32

okay! they're fueled by breath! that's really neat though! pp33-34 Scary, but cool.

I would die immediately in this situation. When the thing (blind corpses) that are already horrible and unbeatable are scared of something else -> absolutely no hope in surviving. p35

ah, it is our little snake-man. I had a suspicion this was related to him and Luo Binghe's dad. He probably took SQQ's corpse too and brought it here. p35

OMG LOL Luo Binghe's dad is awful, but also feels like a troll AND is serving dad jokes. Re: thinking back to when SQQ knocked on the coffin and he answered from inside LOOOL. p36

Listen. Can we just take a moment to appreciate the absolute DILF that is Luo Binghe's father? I am a whole lesbian but that character art cannot objectively argued as anything else. p37

and now SQQ is going on about Tianlang-jun having BDE (not those exact words but I mean when you say he's working that coffin like it's a Paris fashion week runway and Luo binghe - the man you are obsessed with- could NEVER, it says something.). p38

That fucking power move too! SQQ: seems you've waited a while to meet me, why don't you come out of there and do so. Tianlang-jun: *bats eyes* okay but only if you hold my hand and work for it p39

SQQ has this habit of getting kidnapped "for his own good" but no one ever tells him why it's good for him XD this entire situation is so annoying. Tianlang-jun did this all so that he could get him away from the sects he wanted to destroy. p43

OMG scratch that. He also wants to use him as bait to snatch his sons body as his own. p45.

aside: I'm going to have to organize these notes later- I'm not catching the nuance in the hand written notes LOL my brain is processing faster than my hand (you will notice that the last 2 points here do not match my hand written notes because they were a hot mess).

What an entrance Luo Binghe! p47

Yes SQQ! You rescue your man from his dad (RE: holding Zhuzhi lang hostage) p51

holy shit. Zhuzhi lang is WILD - he really was about to just die instead of be a hostage LOL p52 I want to know what his character motivation is. He's giving the same blind trust energy as The Core Melting Hand in MDZS. Both just so loyal to a fault/their own demise. Do we learn more? or is this it? (genuine question- don't tell me WHAT we learn, just yes/no if we learn more).

That was so smart to hit the anti-theft measures in the tomb p53

aaaaaaaand he snatched the wrong person on the escape. well, that's fantastic. p54

I am loving the traps in this mausoleum though! The face with the magma and then the various rooms. I want to know if this exists as a D&D dungeon crawl/anyone has made one, I think it would be so fun. p59

omg. I don't think that Luo Binghe realizes/knows that that was his own father and cousin. that's so terrible. Truly Luo Binghe was treated so fucking badly literally his entire life. His dad does not even give a shit. Honestly probably only had him for this situation - needing a new body. p61

:((((( Our boy, Luo Binghe is in a bad way rn. gah! so many cliff hangers. p63

MXTX Cliffhangar Lord

And now I have to wait until tomorrow to see if baby Luo Binghe makes it. I'm sure SQQ is going to do something about it but dang, he is not well.

[sugarrazz]

Can your write reader being jealous of someone getting to close to Wednesday so threw out the day reader has an attitude towards Wednesday until eventually Wednesday has enough of it and puts the reader in her place? You can decide if you want to make it sfw or nsfw

Hi anon! I wrote this one just for you. I really got into this while writing it and I hope you enjoy it. ;)

I Wasn’t Ignoring You / Wednesday x gn!reader

Notes: female anatomy, dom!wednesday, wednesday x reader, wednesday pleasuring reader, nsfw, smut, cum eating, new student grabs wednesday’s attention, reader with attitude, kinda bratty, talk of corpses, jealous feelings, fingering, oral sex, pussy licking, cumming, pls let me cum, fic, oneshot, i was listening to madison beer while writing this

Today has been shitty. You missed your alarm and the only thing that woke you up was Enid bouncing up and down on your mattress, chanting that you’re gonna be late to class. You didn’t even get to brush your teeth and your hair looked like a bird’s nest.

Fast forward to now, your arm was hooked around Wednesday’s and you were enjoying what little warmth she had. “Your lack of hygiene doesn’t phase me.” She kept telling you every time you apologized for looking like a mess. She even helped you fix up your uniform. You felt so lucky to have her in your life. Your head rested on her shoulder as she proudly escorted you down the halls of Nevermore. As you passed a couple of students, one of them bumped into your shoulder, making you detach from your beloved and a small gasp escaped your lips. 

“Oh, sorry about that! I don’t think we’ve met before. What’s your name?”

You remembered that there was a new batch of students and you just managed to bump into one of them. Wednesday peeked around you, concerned by your gasp, and met the new kid’s gaze through her bangs. 

“My nam-” “It’s Wednesday.”

 You couldn’t believe this. He bumped into YOU but completely ignores you and ogles your girlfriend. You didn’t want to stay and chat so you attempted to pull Wednesday along with you, but she blew you off.

“That pin on your uniform. It’s to my liking. Give it to me.”

“Oh, my corpse pin? No way, it’s my favorite one. I can give you another one though.”

Flabbergasted, you spun on your heels and ran off to class. The image of the love of your life and some random guy getting along is imprinted on your brain. Wednesday doesn’t just get along with anyone. So why?

When you make it to class you throw your books on the desk, garnering a couple of students’ attention toward you and your disheveled appearance. You couldn’t focus at all on what the teacher was saying the whole class, your rage getting the best of you. The way he looked at her was anything but friendly. You couldn’t be overthinking this. Fine, she can do whatever she wants. You’ll just treat her the way she treated you. Brushing you off like a leaf on a windy day. The bell rang and you packed away your books, getting ready to go meet Wednesday and head to the cafeteria. 

“-so they found his dead body by the lake, and there were dog bites all over him. They blamed the werewolf kids for it.” You stared into his eyes, silently wishing death upon him. You hated it but he had the most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen. It was no wonder he was so popular right now. All the girls at the table behind you were staring at him hungrily.

“A most grotesque scene, one that I would have loved the honor to have seen.” Wednesday seemed to be enjoying their strange conversation over dead bodies, both of them seeming to share a love of corpses. The thought of them having common interests was pissing you off even more. Wednesday reached out to rub your hand under the table but you jerked it away, your brow twitching. She glanced at you curiously since you never reject her advances. But you gave her an annoyed look, brushing off the chills you suddenly received. “How much longer are we going to talk about dead people? I’m trying to eat.” You swallow your food messily and some of it gets on the new boy, whose name you didn’t bother to learn. Nor did you care. You were glad his uniform got dirty. Maybe he’ll go away. But no, he takes a napkin and wipes it off, not even giving it another glance as he jumps back into the conversation. You felt like a third wheel for the rest of lunch.

“Let’s go to Jericho”, Wednesday told you and you happily agreed to a chance to get away from this womanizer. “Jericho? Cool, I’m headed there too! We’ll have the best day out. C’mon!” If your headache could get any worse then it would as you feel like a vein is going to pop out of your head. You couldn’t get a single moment alone with Wednesday. What’s the point of going if her attention isn’t gonna be on you? “Yay”, you sarcastically cheered as the bus pulled up. Your attitude did not go unnoticed by a certain goth girl. She let it go, for now.

You brush away your feelings long enough until you arrive at Jericho. Wednesday stops you after you’ve exited the bus and you’re on the sidewalk. “Y/N”, Wednesday said sternly, an underlying tone masking her voice. Dread fell upon you as you looked up at her, black eyes boring into your own. 

“This outing would be more than adequate if you were to behave yourself.”

 “Behave yourself”, you mocked her, flipping your hair in her face and continuing to walk. Boy, would you regret that later.

 “You seem to be having a lot of fun with this guy, so I should just leave you to it.” You both stood there having a staring contest until she decides to break the deafening silence. 

“Y/N, he is a charlatan trying to show off to a master. He is nothing to me.” Her stern gaze leaves a silent warning to stop acting up. You did not heed.

“I’m sick of your attitude. Let’s go fix that right now.”

“Huh!?”

Wednesday drags you back to Nevermore and up the stairs to your dorm. Her grip on your skin is tight and sure to leave a mark. She looks around for your roommate, making sure the coast is clear before she pushes a chair up against the doorknob. That’ll give her enough time to hide if anyone stops by.

“You’ve been quite defiant today. I should educate you on some proper manners.”

In one swift movement, she throws you on the bed, and undoes her tie, her predatory eyes making your pussy throb. You look away, which doesn’t please Wednesday a single bit. She hovers above you and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“While I adore your submissiveness, I require your utmost attention for what I’m about to do to you.”

She then tilts your chin up, her plump lips floating right above the skin on your neck, hot breaths that further teased you. She left hickeys up and down your neck, marking you as hers for everyone else to know. Your breath hitches as you try to stifle a moan. Wednesday notices and briskly grabs a hold of your neck. 

“Don’t hold back.”

And just like that, you melted at her orders. Little mewls started to come out of you as Wednesday started rubbing your folds through your panties, and your juices started to ooze out of you. Her fingers were rhythmic as they made a moaning mess out of you. You squealed as she entered her fingers inside you, working with feverish haste and giving no time for you to accommodate her. 

While her fingers on one hand were busy, her other hand rubbed circles around your lips, before she dove in for a kiss. She was surprisingly gentle, and her tongue brushed against your lips, begging for entry. You decided to test your luck and denied it. She let out a muffled groan and her thumb purposely brushed over your clit. You jolted, but Wednesday caged you under her, sealing your fate. At that moment, unbeknownst to you, you opened your mouth just enough for her to finally get inside and your tongues danced around in each other’s mouths. An oral ballad that she always won. Your french kiss didn’t last for long as she pulled away and took a mental screenshot of you, tousled under her.

“You’re most alluring in this view.”

She said in a monotone voice, but her eyes glinted with a deep passion for you. It made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks but Wednesday snapped you out of it as her head went under your skirt, closer to the heat between your legs. She raised back out with your panties hanging in between her teeth, a morbid grin on her face as she dropped them on the floor. She dove back in and you mentally prepared yourself for what was to come next. Her warm tongue started lapping up the excess juices that were coming out of your pussy and you instinctively opened up your legs for her, your breathing picking up. You grabbed the sheets as your hands shook. She sucked your clit at a devastatingly slow pace, making you quiver at her mercy. You felt so hot and bothered and as the knot in your stomach built up, you unconsciously bucked your hips, which encouraged Wednesday to keep going. Her fingers kept busy inside you as her wet tongue devoured you. 

“W-wednesday, I’m-”

“Just a little longer.”

You plead with her to let you cum. You wouldn’t be able to obey her for long but she wasn’t having it. Your juices started trailing down Wednesday’s fingers as she pumped her fingers in and out of you at an unrelentless pace, her breath picking up. You were twitching, trying to get away from her, but failing, as you were reaching your climax. You let out a loud moan as you came, as Wednesday pulled her fingers out of you and consumed every last drop of cum you had to give. 

You felt satisfied but dizzy as you dropped your head down. Wednesday ran off to clean her hands and face in the bathroom, leaving you to recollect your thoughts. When she came out, she just laid next to you on the bed. Didn’t say anything, it was a tranquil peace as she held your hand and you both stared at the ceiling.

“You still came without my permission. I’ll get you back later.”