#the only thing I’m missing are those little clasps for the straps

[little-pondhead]

So my sister is in the local high school play and mentioned she needs overalls for a costume but can’t find any that work and now it’s 1:46am and I’m making her overalls.

She is not aware I am making her overalls.

[darlingmbappe]

Revenge Gift | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

— Click here for part 2! —

Summary: When Kylian leaves you high and dry, you decide on a leaving him a little revenge gift.

Warnings: Making out, sexy pictures, teasing, cussing, English is not my first language

Kylian was so happy to see you when you came over today. His face lit up the second he saw you, pulling you in for a long and deep kiss. You both had the afternoon off — a rare occurrence for your never ending clashing schedules — and these past couple of weeks have been especially busy. Working on a project in its preproduction stage comes a lot of late nights and even later mornings. Kylian turns in early and is up at the ass crack of dawn.

Besides the cheeky texts you’ve been sending back and forth, you two hadn’t had a chance to be intimate in a while. Quality time has been at an all time low, probably three weeks had passed since you’ve touched each other in that way. So, imagine how eager you two were when you quickly made it up to his bedroom.

“I fucking miss you,” he breathes between kisses on your exposed neck. You hum in response, too lost in feeling his bare chest against your skin to properly tell him you fucking miss him too. “You drive me crazy when you send me those sexy pictures.” Your hips grind against him while you sat on his lap, earning huffs and low moans from your boyfriend.

He played with the straps of your bra before losing them, following with a trail of kisses on your shoulder.

You huff out a laugh. “How do you think I feel when you send me thirst traps from the locker room, huh?”

Any other time he would deny that they were thirst traps and that you were just thirsty for him, but he only has one thing in mind right now. He reaches behind your back and begins playing with the clasp of your bra, a part he (shamefully) always struggles with. “Why don’t they use Velcro for these things?” He grumbled.

You giggle at him, reaching back to do it yourself. He sits back on the bed and prepares himself to just watch you, his eyes dark with lust and need. Just before you were able to unhook it, his phone starts ringing.

“Shit, sorry.” He reached for it on the nightstand. “Thought I turned that off.” Kylian looks at the caller ID and winces, looking up at you with I’m sorry eyes.

You shrug and drop your arms from your back, disappointed but understanding. “Go ahead, take it.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats before sliding the answer button, immediately sounding annoyed with the caller. You crawl off his lap and make yourself comfortable on the open side of the bed, waiting for him to do something about the throbbing in your core. “What? Today?” He exclaims, jumping out of the bed and begins looking for his something to put on. “I thought it was next week, why didn’t you text me?” He pulls the phone down from his mouth and mouths another ‘I’m sorry’ before putting his clothes back on.

He ends the call with frustration, turning to you with the face of the guiltiest man alive. You roll your eyes and huff, but ultimately realize that this is something he has to do, or else he sure as hell wouldn’t be leaving you alone in his bed right before you were about to get naked. “Go.” You force a little grin out for both your sakes.

“You know I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t have to—”

“I know, Ky. It’s okay, go.” You’re used to forcing the good sport attitude. It was a package deal while dating someone like Kylian.

“Please be here when I come back.” He begs, putting a baseball cap on and a T-shirt.

You stand up, trudging over to him and wrapping a loose hug around his waist. “If you’re back before six…”

He hugs you back, kissing you sweetly. “I’ll try my best, amour.”

You kiss him quickly before shoving him toward the door, his gaze lingered on your bare body for a long second, tutting and cursing under his breath, then forcing himself out of the house.

Once he left, you put on some comfy clothes, made some tea, and began watching a movie in his living room. It wasn’t even two hours later when you phone binged — a message from Kylian.

Kyks <3: what’s the latest you can stay over?

You immediately respond back

You: No later than 6:15

You watched the three bubbles appear before his response.

Kyks <3: fuuuuuuuucccckkk :,(

You frown, realizing that your day with Kylian wasn’t happening.

Kyks <3: I’m sorry amour, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.

Kyks <3: I love you

You: I know you will

You: and I love you too

With a long huff, you stand up and decide to just grab your things and go to your place before you had to head out to work, maybe change into a less itchy bra.

As you walked around kylians room to double check that you grabbed everything, a small black and white object on his dresser caught your eye — his Polaroid camera.

Interesting.

He was obsessed with it for a couple weeks before completly forgetting about it, leaving it to collect dust in his room. Picking it up, you saw he had three photos left in it, and you had a plan brewing. A small form of payback, if you will.

Shuffling back out of your clothes, you propped yourself on his bed, the camera lying next to you. Kylian had yet to see this set in full, so you might as well let him know what he walked out on.

With a quick reposition, you laid down on his silk pillows, squeezed your boobs together to create more cleavage, putting your hand lazily near your mouth.

Snap!

Next, you sat up on your knees, opening your thighs slightly to give him a better view of the black lace that was sewn on mesh at the middle, angling the lens downward at your body.

Snap!

With only one more left in the roll, you decide to show him a little more skin. Taking off your bra, you toss it aside, covering your nipples with your arm. Once you figure out the pose, you snap the last picture.

You put the developing pictures next to each other and shuffle back into your sweatpants and tank top.

Damn, you thought when they were funny developed. You looked so hot. You displayed them nearly on top of his pillow. Now that your satisfied with your teasing revenge, you gather your things and head home.

Around 8:30, the writers room was very unproductive. Everyone had all hit a wall and was out of ideas for the time being. Bouncing off one another felt pointless and everyone was a little frustrated. Usually while at work, your phone was on focus mode so you didn’t get off track, but you had resorted to playing a racing game while hoping inspiration for the script would drop from the sky. Just when you were about to beat your high score, you got a buzz in your phone with a message from your boyfriend. Then another. And another…

Kyks <3: you cannot do this to me right now baby

Kyks <3: you’re evil

Kyks <3: fuuuuccckk bebe I need you to come over right now

Kyks <3: I’m serious. U fucking tease

You bit back a laugh, wishing you could see his reaction in person.

You: I take it you like the pictures?

Kyks <3: I will pay you double whatever you make today if you leave work right now

This time you giggle out loud, catching the attention of your co-writers.

“Sorry,” you said through blushing cheeks. As you were about to put your phone down, you got another buzz. Though you thought about ignoring it, you decided to take a quick peek.

Holy shit.

Your extremely sexy boyfriend had taken a photo for you and you had to physically stop yourself from drooling, your face flushing with color as you took in the picture on your screen. The phone was now held close to your chest just in case anyone was peaking over your shoulder and saw the filthy shot.

His abs we’re on full display — he snapped the shot from his perspective as he laid down in his bed, a white towel hung low on his hips. Your Polaroids were splayed out across his covered leg and his hand covered his groin, large fingers wrapped around his covered member, showing off his perfect outline.

Kyks <3: I’m I gonna have to take care of myself? :(

Without thinking, you wrote back.

You: don’t you dare.

“You guys don’t need me tonight, right?” Your voice cracked. None of your coworkers said anything, just looked at you with a face that screamed ‘seriously?’ “Pleeease, you guys? I swear I’ll come in on Monday with donuts from Azúcar.”

That promise was enough for them to be okay with you leaving early. You texted Kylian back as soon as you gathered your things.

You: be there in 20

He took no time replying.

Kyks <3: counting down the seconds

—Requests are open for Kylian Mbappé!—

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Baby Kal El AU

Lena and Kara are married. They do things married folks do. Like sex.

----

Lena twists her wrists experimentally. Kara had come to her not long after dropping Kal off with Alex, Lena’s favorite rope looped in her hands. It’s been a long time since they’ve had time to do this. Months, maybe longer. Life gets busy with a ten year old. 

Unable to help the smile that grew to match Kara’s suggestive grin, Lena had put her book aside and slipped her hands through the loops of rope, clasping Kara’s hands as she allowed herself to be drawn to their bedroom. 

Now here she is, wrists bound to the headboard and completely naked. The mirror over their bed had been a splurge– a small secret normally hidden by a swath of fabric artfully draped below it. Kara had uncovered it as soon as Lena’s wrists had been satisfactorily restrained, allowing Lena to see every tantalizing inch of her bare skin as Kara removed Lena’s robe.

As Lena studies her nude form in the mirror above, she nearly misses Kara’s approach until the bed dips around her. Kara looms over her, eclipsing her view of the mirror with a knowing grin. 

“Enjoying the view?”

Lena lifts her head from the pillow to press a kiss to her wife’s lips. “You know I do.” Lena smirks against Kara’s mouth. “Untie me, and I’ll show you how much.”

It’s a game they like to play– Lena tries to talk her way out of her bonds, only to be all too happy when Kara resists. 

“I don’t think so,” Kara returns in a low voice. Settling her slightly onto her hips, she frees her arms of her weight to run her hands down Lena’s forearms until their palms meet and she laces her fingers through Lena’s. “Wouldn’t want you to bump anything, would we?”

The reminder of the bandage on her cheek makes Lena’s lips twist a little bit. It’s still relatively fresh, both the wound and their attempts to navigate a new way through Kal’s powers. But Kara’s tender kiss against the bandage protecting the burn saves the mood.

“I know normally you like it rough,” Kara continues. “But I don’t want to do that tonight.”

She holds Lena’s gaze, her blue eyes almost smoldering with desire. 

“Tonight, I want to show you just how careful I can be.”

And oh, does Kara show her. With fingers, tongue and toys Kara shows her, taking Lena to the brink of orgasm with gentle ministrations, only to back off just before Lena hits the point of no return. It’s not frustrating, at first, but tantalizing. Lena feels every minute movement against her, practically miniscule… Because Kara is right– Lena likes it rough. Even without the games they like to play, Lena needs pressure and sharp motions that will bring her to climax as quickly as possible.

Tonight, Kara has all the time in the world. 

So Lena languishes, lavished with refined attention. Lena’s temperature lifts by degrees, but after hours pass with no relief, those degrees add up until Lena is flushed and beginning to sweat. Her breath quickens as Kara breathes a sigh of icy mist across her clit– Lena’s vagina tightens on Kara’s two fingers inside her, searching still for that elusive plunge over the edge. But in the next moment Kara’s warm tongue laves over her chilled clit, easing the sensation from sharp to smooth, languid. 

“Goddammit, Kara,” Lena hisses. 

“Would you like me to stop?” Kara asks innocently from between her legs. 

Lena glares at the back of her wife’s head in the mirror overhead. “If you stop I’m divorcing you.”

When Kara breaks out the strap-on, Lena almost cries with relief. Surely, she thinks, this means she’ll get past that invisible line Kara has been dancing on all night. But when Kara slides the head just inside, she pauses, waiting for Lena to settle. Only then does she gently thrust her hips forward, sliding the full length inside Lena seemingly inch by inch.

Rationally, Lena understands the demonstration for what it is. Every ounce of Kara’s fine motor control has been on fine display tonight with every touch. But while Kara thinks Lena needs this, Lena knows better. 

She’s never once worried about Kara’s control. She still doesn’t.

But Kara does. 

It’s Kara who needs this.

“Jesus fuck!, Kara!” Lena huffs as Kara withdraws just shy of bottoming out.

Kara only smiles, reaching up to tuck a strand of sweat-slick hair behind Lena’s ear. “You’ve been such a good girl,” she croons. Lena moans, almost ashamed of the thready gasp of need at the end. “You’ve been trying so hard… do you think you’re ready?”

“Kara, if you don’t– nngh!” Lena’s voice breaks into a keen as Kara presses her fingers hard against Lena’s clit at the exact moment she thrusts her hips sharply into Lena’s. 

Lena orgasms immediately. After so long on the razor’s edge it floods her hot and bright, ears roaring until all she can hear is her own breathless grunting as her walls clench hard around the shaft inside her. Just as she starts to come down, Kara thrusts again, repeating the same press against Lena’s clit, which sends Lena spiraling over the edge once more. 

This time Lena’s back arches with a gasp, ropes snapping tight as she yanks involuntarily against her bonds. Her hands curl into fists, even as she pants her wife’s name.

“K-Kara–!”

“I’ve got you,” Kara murmurs against her neck. “I’ve got you.”

[quindolyn]

Better Kisser Part 2 || James Potter and Lily Evans

Request: “istg i need a fic or a blurb or something about being in a poly relationship with lily and james...after reading Better Kisser it’s all i can think about 😭” -anon

and

“hiii !! first of all, i love your writings they’re so amazing honestly !! could you maybe write something with hot lily from “better kisser” ? i’d love it if it was both sensual and fluff :) thanks so much if you ever do something like that! hope you have a nice day/night!“ -anon

and

“QUINN HEAR ME OUT

imagine a part two to better kisser but like smutty bc Lily starts bragging about how she thinks she’s better at other things since she’s the better kisser so they make it a competition over who can like... get the reader off fastest... and then it’s like a competition to see who can get her off the most...

good ideas here right...? N E ways love u bestie <3″ -anon

Word Count: 4,752

Notes:I got three separate requests for this so obviously y’all wanted it and I want to write it. This is smut! I could also do headcanons on Jily x reader and even if you guys don’t request it I’ll probably still write them because it sounds like fun.

Warnings: poly sex, jily x reader, dom!James, dom!Lily, sub!reader, LIly’s a sex god, prove me wrong, they’re both cocky as fuck

Part 1

Masterlist

Lily Evans was the stars, she was mesmerizing and mysterious. Just as they decorated the night sky, accentuating the darkness through their beauty she too brought out the best in those around her without dulling any of her own shine. She was sly smiles and gentle touches, slender pale fingers and long, swishing red hair. She was wondrous and beautiful, complex and absolutely gorgeous. Lily Evans, she was the stars.

James Potter was the sun, he was bright and glowing and impossible to ignore. James was messy black hair, and goofy grins, strong hands and bear hugs. He attracted all of those around him, sucking them into his gravitational field, giving them purpose, warming their souls. A centering person when the rest of their lives were crazy and unpredictable and scary. James Potter, he was the sun.

Where Lily was understated and controlled with her witty remarks and sharp quips James was loud and boisterous, trying to get the biggest reaction out of people. Where Lily was calm James was chaotic. Where she was focused on her end goal he was everywhere, practically bouncing off the walls.

Together they were perfect.

And somehow they were yours.

One thing was for certain, Sirius Black was an upright prick, and you owed him, bigtime. If it weren’t for Sirius Black you would’ve never kissed Lily Evans on a dare. You would’ve never kissed James to satisfy his curiosities. You wouldn’t have spent weeks exchanging tense glances with the two, holding your breath whenever one of them so much as sat down one seat away from you in the Great Hall. Lily would’ve never found you, hiding away in the common room in the wee hours of the morning, pouring over your Transfiguration notes preparing for your test the following morning, or rather later in the day. She never would’ve brushed the hair out of your face with her elegant fingers, nails painted in a berry shade, complimenting her pale skin. She never would’ve told you that you really needed to go to bed, she never would’ve leaned down, meshing her lips with yours, allowing you to answer that question that had plagued you after you kissed Lily. 

What did her lips taste like when she wasn’t drunk?

The answer?

Well at that moment, morning breath. Which brought a new question to the forefront of your mind, what did she taste like when she hadn’t just woken up in the middle of the night?

It didn’t take long for you to find out the answer. She’d brought you up to bed, her hand clasped with yours, telling you that she and James wanted to talk to you in the morning resulting in you tossing and turning all night in anticipation of the conversation that would take place the next day.

If it weren’t for Sirius Black you never would’ve had that conversation with James and Lily by the Black Lake. You never would’ve even had the opportunity to accept their offer not to join their relationship but to start a new one, with all three of you. You never would have never learned what Lily tasted like, it was maple syrup and cherries by the way.

If it weren’t for Sirius Black you wouldn’t be sitting in your dorm room with the two of them, skimming over notes for your potions midterm. Well you and Lily were looking over your extensive notes, James on the other hand was sitting behind you, pressing kisses to the side of your neck.

You hissed as he dragged his teeth over a bruised spot on your neck, sending ripples of both pain and pleasure through your body, leaving your fingertips tingling, dying to get themselves on his skin.

“Aw, baby,” He cooed in your ear as he registered your reaction, it’s not as though he could’ve missed it, not with your back pressed flush against his chest, “You a little sensitive there?”

“Come on Jamie,” You giggle trying to hide your neck from him, pressing your ear to your shoulder, “You already know I am.”

James slipped his rough, strong fingers under your jaw, using them to lift your head back up, away from your shoulder, “Don’t hide from me darling, wanna see the marks I left on you.” He returned his lips to the same spot on your neck, lapping slightly at the purple mark with his tongue.

Lily snorted from where she laid on her stomach a couple inches away from you on the same bed that had been transfigured to accommodate all three of you.

“What’s so funny Lils?” James inquired, peeking up from the delicate skin covering your thrumming pulse.

“Nothing,” She sang, twirling her pen in between her fingers, her feet hanging lazily in the air, “I just think it's funny you think you left that mark on her.”

“Well I did,” James said plainly, obviously not amused by Lily’s comment, “Didn’t I poppet?” He asked, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear.

You ducked your head, trying to hide your wide eyes and heated cheeks from the two of them. 

“It’s okay (Y/N),” Lily cooed, setting her quill down in her book, marking her page as she closed the book, dropping it onto the floor, “You can tell him it was me who left that, his ego can take it.” She held eye contact with you for a minute, managing to keep a straight face before a smile broke out across her lips, chuckles erupting from the soft cushions of her lips, lathered in a light pink gloss, “Okay, it probably can’t but that shouldn’t stop you baby, Jamie needs to remember that he’s not the only one who can make you feel good.”

“I know I’m not Flower, but I left this one, I can tell, it's one of the darker ones.” And he was right, the entire left side of your neck was littered in bruises and bites, some lighter than others, some darker, but none as dark as the one he was currently tracing with his index finger.

“Nope,” Lily countered, popping her p before pushing herself up off of her shins in order to settle between your open legs, “I distinctly remember, I had her pressed up against the wall before you got back from Quidditch practice, she moaned so pretty for me, prettier than she ever has for you.” She grinned victoriously, turning her gaze back to you, and only you, “It’s like he cares more about that fucking snitch than he does us.”

“That’s bullshit love and you know it,” He murmured in your ear pressing a kiss against the corner of your mouth before dragging his lips, considerably less rough than they were before you started dating him as you’d made it your mission to apply lip balm to his lips every time you saw him, across the side of your face back to your ear, “She’s just trying to turn you against me, she’s so mean isn’t she.”

They loved doing this. Making you choose between the two of them, or trying to anyway. The power struggle between the two of them was hot as fuck.

Before you could so much as open your mouth Lily was responding for you, “I’m not mean doll,” She crooned, not looking at you but rather focusing on the dark haired boy whose nimble fingers were expertly pulling at the hem of your shirt, slowly but steadily rolling up the material until it covered just was much as your bra, “Jamie just needs to remember who the better kisser here is, who makes you feel the best.”

Ignoring her jab James murmured a quick, “Want this off,” In your ear before pulling the shirt over your head and arms, tossing it off the bed and onto the floor paying it no mind as soon as the material slipped from his fingers. 

Desperate to prove his worth, to prove his dominance James’ hands ran up and down your thighs, inching your skirt up them, “You’re not the better kisser here Flower, you’re not the best anything. Our baby here loves me the most.”

“She told us James,” Lily sighed, clearly exasperated with your boyfriend, “After she kissed you for the first time she told us. I’m the better kisser, just accept it. She likes me the most don’t you (Y/N/N)?”

“Jamie you make me feel so good,” You began, hoping to soften the blow, “But Lily’s tongue is magic, feels so good in my mouth, in my-my…” 

“It’s okay pretty girl,” She simpered, “You can say it, where does my mouth feel good?”

“My pussy,” You forced out, willing yourself not to stutter. 

“That’s right my pretty little kitten,” She grinned, tilting your chin up with her index finger so that you were staring into her swirling emerald irises, darkened with obvious desire. “I make your pussy feel so good, better than Jamie.”

“Off.” James demanded, not taking kindly to Lily’s teasing, as he aggressively undid the clasp on your bra, the snide remarks obviously doing no damage to his ego as he pulled the straps from your arms. Taking no care with the expensive, luxurious garment that he himself had bought for you he flung the clothing over his shoulder. Clearly not caring about the money he’d spent on it as the silky material crumpled next to the bed.

“Not just my tongue that makes you feel better isn’t that right my darling?” Lily smirked, beginning to undo the buttons on her button up, “S’my fingers too, stretching you out on my fingers, they can reach so much further in you than his can.”

“Pfft,” James shook his head, one hand settling on your waist, gripping with a frankly frightening strength, no doubt melding dark purple bruises in the shapes of his fingertips on your soft skin.

“Gimme your hand Flower, let me show our baby that you’re wrong” James demanded as the hand not on your waist extended towards the redhead. When she dropped her hand in his he immediately lined them up, palm against palm, fingers against fingers, and much to James’ chagrin his hands were only barely larger than hers. His palm was much larger than hers leaving his fingers slightly shorter than his girlfriend’s.

Feeling benevolent, you grabbed his hand before it dropped down to his thigh in defeat, pressing your hands together as he had pressed his to Lily’s. Yours were considerably smaller than his, and therefore her’s too, your palm nearly half the size as his, your fingers dwarfed by his. 

“See Jamie, your hands are bigger than mine.” You comforted, mesmerized by the contrast, “Your fingers make me feel so much better than mine ever could. They don’t even come close.” 

“But that’s besides the point right poppet?” Lily questioned, grasping your jaw in her graceful hand, you noticed her ivory dress shirt now hung open, revealing her red lace clad breasts as she once again tilting your head up to look her in the eyes, “Because you’re not allowed to touch yourself, not without my permission.”

“Or mine,” James piped up.

Rolling her eyes at her boyfriend Lily released her grip on your jaw, “Keep your eyes on me darling, be my good girl.”

“You even like my strap more than you like James’ cock, stretches you out so much better than he ever could. Not to mention we don’t have to wait for his little blue pill to work do we?”

Being a muggle born you understood her joke but James was utterly bewildered by your shared laughter.

“You’re not laughing at me are you, you little slut?” James spat, his voice hard and unwavering as he turned your face with a single finger so that your neck was craned to look at him.

“N-no,” You shook your head pathetically, your eyes flashing downwards not being able to meet him.

“Open,” He commanded, tapping your bottom lip and you instantly obeyed, not daring to disobey him. You were rewarded for your obedience by the male spitting into your mouth, the taste of his saliva bleeding along the expanse of your tongue.

“What do we say to Jamsie, pretty girl?” Lily raised an expectant eyebrow.

“Thank you.”

“Good girl,” James muttered, watching as you swallowed the gift he’d given you, “Thought you’d forgotten your manners for a second.”

“Not our good girl,” Lily grinned, somehow now only in her thong, “No, she’s such a good girl for us.”

“Guess she is,” James agreed, leaving a trail of kisses between your shoulder blades.

“Bet I can make our baby cum first James,” Lily boasted, beginning to work on the zipper of your skirt, expertly pulling it off of your legs, “Being the better kisser and all.”

“Don’t get cocky Evans,” James tutted, pulling his shirt over his head as he had yours, “You know I love your strap baby but it just can’t compare to my cock. Mine’s real.”

Clearly unimpressed by his comment Lily pressed her lips to yours, maneuvering you so that you too were on your knees, giving James time to strip down to the same level of clothing as the two of you. 

Smiling into the kiss she put but a millimeter of distance between the two of you to catch her breath, “You taste so good kitten.”

“You’re the one who tastes good Lily.”

“So nice to me, don’t deserve you,” She planted a kiss to the hollow of your throat, “Let me make you feel good baby.” 

Not complaining, you let Lily lie you back on the bed where James was no longer standing, instead now standing behind Lily, letting his hands settle on her hips. 

Once you were lying down she hooked her hands under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed as James helped her off the mattress, helping her plant her feet on the floor. It was things like this, the subtle loving gestures and actions even when they were practically at each other’s throats, that reminded you of how much they loved each other. Of how much they loved you.

“Look at these,” Lily lilted, her finger hooking under the silky material of your panties, “So pretty aren’t they J?”

“Very,” He whispered in her ear only loud enough for you to barely hear him, “Like her in red.”

Lily hummed in affirmation, tapping your hip as a non verbal clue to lift your hips so she could pull them off of you.

She didn’t waste a single second before kneeling down before you so that her face was level as your glistening pussy, already so wet from them just talking about pleasuring you. 

After running a single finger through your folds Lily brought her finger to her lips, a hum leaving her lips. “You taste good down here too (Y/N), you have such a pretty pussy.”

“Thank you,” You murmured, attempting not to whine and be their good girl even though you desperately wanted them to touch you. 

Without any warning Lily inserted two slender fingers into your cunt causing you to gasp at the sensation. “Lily,” You whimpered, trying not to buck your hips towards her hand, not wanting to let on quite yet how desperate you really were. 

“See J?” You could hear the smirk on her lips as she slowly moved her fingers in and out of you, paying you no other mind, instead directing her attention to her boyfriend who still stood behind her, his hands now on her bare shoulders. “She’s really not all that hard to please when you actually know what you’re doing. Had my fingers in her two seconds and she’s already so needy for me.”

“Shut up Lils,” James growled, “Stop talking like I don’t know how to get her off, she’s my baby too, I know exactly how to get her desperate.” In his efforts to prove his point he moved onto the bed, taking one of your nipples into his mouth resulting in a whine to tumble from your lips as he raked his teeth over the sensitive bud.

As his mouth sucked on one his hand moved to the other nipple, rolling it between his fingers before pinching harshly making you gasp in pleasure.

Lily allowed James to have his moment before taking your clit between her lips and sucking. If you gasped for James you absolutely screamed for Lily, thank Merlin for silencing charms because otherwise someone would’ve probably thought you were being tortured. Once she had your sensitive bundle of nerves in her mouth she began humming, making wave after wave of intense ecstasy roll through your core and up your spine, leaving your nerve endings frayed and responsive to every single touch.

You could feel everything, the soft material of the duvet beneath your back, James’ tongue circling your nipple, one hand caressing your heated cheek while the other traced shapes down your stomach. You could feel Lily’s fingers continuing their assault on your cunt, reaching so deep inside of you that they almost touched your g-spot, but not quite, as your clit was set aflame by her mouth. 

“You’re not even trying,” Lily snarked, coming up for a breather from in between your legs, “You really think you’re gonna get  her to cum from playing with her nipples? I never realized you were that daft Jamsie.”

“If you’d give me a turn,” He began before Lily cut him off.

“Doesn’t look like she wants me to stop does it?” She nodded in your direction where you were writhing on the bed merely from her fingers. “Do you want me to stop, baby?”

“No,” You begged, “Please don’t stop, please! Need your fingers in me, make me feel so good.”

Grinning triumphantly Lily returned her mouth to your pulsing cunt, sucking with a new found vigor that had your back careening off of the mattress, hips bucking towards her mouth.

“Hey,” James scolded, moving his arm to keep your hips firmly on the bed, “Don’t be a desperate slut, take it as she gives you it okay? Be good for us.”

Nodding feebly you willed your hips still but it was nearly impossible as Lily replaced her fingers with her tongue, moving her digits to pinch your clit. Feeling the pleasure bubble up in your stomach you focused on your girlfriend’s ministrations, lapping at your hole with her tongue sent you into a whole new level of pleasure.

“Feels so good! Lily, that feels so good, please don’t stop!”

You could feel her smiling into your opening as she sped up her movements, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice of climax. “Am I allowed to cum?” You asked desperately, the only thing keeping your hips where they were being James’ strong forearm, digging into your hip bones.

“No,” He growled, slapping at your tit bringing you even closer to something you were apparently not allowed to do. 

“Come on James,” Lily said replacing her tongue with her fingers as she moved her head to talk to the dark haired boy, “You can’t just tell her she’s not allowed to cum because it’s not you who’s going to make her cum,” Turning her attention back to you she smiled, “Of course you’re allowed to cum baby, don’t listen to him. Are you close, m’love?”

“Uh huh,” You screwed your eyes shut, the pleasure becoming overwhelming and only intensifying when Lily’s mouth returned to your clit, licking broad stripes up and down it. 

“Baby look at me,” James’ deep voice commanded you, to which you promptly obeyed, “Wanna see you when you fall apart on her tongue, wanna see you cum baby, you’re so pretty when you cum.”

James’ words accompanied by a particularly harsh nip by Lily to your clit has you tipping over the edge, letting out a high pitched scream as pleasure took over your body, drowning you in the feeling of your lovers still working on your body, obviously not satisfied with leaving you with just one orgasm.

As you came to, your orgasm slowly seeped away from your cloudy mind, reentering you into your dorm room where you heard Lily’s melodic voice, “See James, told you I could make her cum first.”

“Didn’t even get a chance,” He grumbled from his place next you, brushing the hairs off of your forehead. “Wanna make you cum poppet, tell Lily to give me a turn.”

“L-lils,” You managed in your post orgasmic haze, “Want Jamsie, want his- want his…”

“Look at how good of a job I did on our baby,” The redhead boasted, “Just one in and already a blubbery little mess. How do you think she’s gonna be fairing when I have her on her fourth?”

“Only shooting for four Lils?” James raised a defined eyebrow, “I was thinking I could get at least five out of her myself.”

Your eyes widened, slightly in alarm, slightly in anticipation. “F-five?”

“Shh kitten, let us talk,” Lily chaisted lightly. “You really do think highly of yourself don’t you Potter?”

“I’ve done it before,” He countered.

“No, we’ve done it before, both of us. Neither of us have ever gotten her to five by ourselves.”

“Don’t think you can do it Flower?” As he rose from the bed and moved towards Lily you caught sight of his cock, already painfully hard, the tip a bright red and leaking with precum.

“S’not me I’m worried about, don’t wanna overwhelm our baby.”

“I can do it,” You piped in feebly, “I can take it, make me feel good please, wanna feel good.”

“See Lily? If she says she can take it, who are we to question her?”

“You sure poppet?” Lily asked you, her eyes on yours.

“Yes Lily, I’m sure.”

That was all James needed to nudge Lily out from between your legs, spitting on his fingers before rubbing them up against your pussy. “You need me to stretch you out darling?” His voice laced with absolute adoration as he took in your perspiring figure from this new angle.

You shook your head but James wasn’t satisfied, “Wanna hear your voice poppet, come on not too fucked out yet are you?”

“No, don’t need you to stretch me out, want your cock.”

He grinned, lining up the tip of his cock with your quivering entrance, “There’s my good girl.”

As he pushed into you you faintly questioned why you didn’t have him stretch you out beforehand, but once he was fully sheathed inside you all you could think about was the way his dick pressed perfectly against your g-spot. 

You moaned out as he began thrusting into you, ruthless in his efforts to make you cum. He moved his hands to hold your hips at an angle where he could better reach deeper inside of you if that was even possible.

“So pretty baby girl,” His grin was wicked as he watched your cunt, reveling in the sight of his cock going in and out of your dripping pussy, “You look so pretty on my cock, you gonna make a mess f’me?”

“She’s not gonna cum yet you himbo,” Lily interjected, “You’ve been inside her what? Five seconds? You need her to cum soon? You close?”

Using Lily’s mocking as motivation he pistoned his hips in and out even more viciously, leaving you a bouncing mess on his cock as he pulled his prick almost all the way out, so that only the leaking red head was still inside of you before fully sheathing himself in you once more.

“Fuck!” You cried out as the tip of his member brushed against your cervix, “Don’t stop!”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” James managed through gritted teeth, throwing your legs over his shoulders so that he wouldn’t have to hold them in his hands any longer, giving him the ability to grip your hips.

So lost in your pleasure you hadn’t registered where Lily was until she sat next to you on the bed, moving her fingers to massage your clit pulling a strangled gasp from your throat.

“L-Lily,” You stuttered out.

“Hey there baby,” She cooed, like she was talking to an actual child, “Jamie making you feel good.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes locked on hers.

“You close, kitten? You gonna cum soon?”

A whimper escaped your lips this time as you nodded once more.

“Let me see if I can help with that then, wanna see you cum again pretty girl.”

You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back against the mattress with a soft thud as Lily’s fingers started working magic on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your second orgasm.

A slap against your clit, combined with the deep, hard thrusts of your boyfriend, reaching depths within you you could’ve only imagined before him sent you careening. Your climax washed over you in waves, each stronger than the last making you twitch and spasm on the bed.

You hadn’t even registered that you’d squirted, not until Lily’s delicate hands were rubbing your release up and down your thighs, “Well would you look at that?” James grinned, “I didn’t see you make her squirt Lils.”

“Oh, you don’t get points for this one pretty boy,” Lily grinned, not making eye contact with him but rather focusing on your pulsing cunt.

“What?” James was incredulous, “What do you mean I don’t get credit for that one, she came on my cock.”

“Yes, technically, but she only came when I started on that pretty little clit of hers, so responsive isn’t it, doll?” She asked, punctuating her remark with a gentle slap against your still throbbing cunt and a quick wink that James was too bewildered to pick up on.

Over the next couple of hours they were able to lull a number of orgasms out of you, James making Lily sit in a chair next to the bed so that she couldn’t touch you at all and take credit for any of his hard work.

You’d cum on her tongue and his, both of their fingers, once at the same time, they split the credit for that one but it was worth it, getting to watch your cunt stretch around both of them. You came on James’ cock more times than you could count, and of course on Lily’s strap on because Godric, did she know how to move her hips.

By the end you’d cum a grand total of nine times. You weren’t quite sure how’d you’d done it but you had. And they were both so proud of you.

The final score was Lily, five. James, four. You’d better believe that James was butt hurt about it, not quite willing to accept his obvious defeat, instead of acknowledging it and conceding to his very talented girlfriend, working on getting you cleaned up.

Once James had left the dorm to run you a bath Lily scooped you into her lap, running her hands up and down your thighs but being careful not to touch your sensitive cunt. 

“You did such a good job for us baby,” She cooed, pressing kiss after kiss to the back of your head, “Came nine times, can you believe that?”

“Is Jamie going to be mad that you made me cum more?” You asked in your degenerative head space not wanting to upset your boyfriend.

“Of course not,” Lily squeezed your hips, soothing your woes. “Especially not at you, he might mope around a little bit because he is a man,” She pulled a light giggle out of your lips with that one, “But he’ll get over it, it's just gonna push him to work harder next time when he’s making you feel good.”

“Flower,” James called from the bathroom, “Bath’s ready.”

“Come on baby,” Lily said, easing you up onto your feet, “Let’s get you in the bath and all cleaned up for us alright?”

“Okay,” You yawned, understandably exhausted by the events of the night, “Will you take the bath with me?”

“Of course my pretty girl, not gonna let Jamie join us though, s’my reward for being the best.”

You chuckled, nodding your head in agreement, “Sounds good Lils.”

As she settled you into the bathtub Lily ordered James out before he could step into it with you.

“But-”

“Out!”

“Fine! Fine, I’m going!”

Lily was the stars and James was the sun, and fuck did they know how to make you feel good.

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts​ @kittykylax​ @amourtentiaa

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨2

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Thank you for your positive response to this one! I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Your Spotify list of redundant tracks flowed through the apartment as you sat typing at your small desk in the corner of the front room. The boxy space was as oppressive as any office space, another reason for your voluntary work at the gallery. Vanessa let you in the studio to paint. Without the privilege, you wouldn’t have the space for your easel.

You stretched your fingers and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy from staring at the screen, even with night mode on. The work was monotonous and made you restless. You wanted a pencil or brush in hand, a canvas before you, not this blaring laptop. You yawned and took a sip of your lukewarm water.

Your phone vibrated from across the room and you checked the time. Your lunch started soon but no one was really keeping track. As long as you got your assignments done, it didn’t matter when you chewed on toast and disassociated.

You got up and grabbed your phone from the corner table and leaned against the arm of the couch. You remembered how Marcus woke up there and grumbled as he lifted his head in pain. You couldn’t really feel bad for him going into work hungover. He embarrassed you and it didn’t quite sink in until after Clark left you to stare down at your drunk boyfriend.

An unknown number showed on your screen and you answered tentatively, ready to hang up at the first sales pitch. Your name came from the speaker and you recognized the deep voice in an instant. It took you back to the night before and the canvas hung on the wall.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Clark said, “I only just had the paintings hung and I thought… well, I thought you might like to come see them in their new home.”

“Um…” you chewed your thumb, uncertain how to respond.

“Sorry, I know I can be a bit… to the point,” he laughed at himself, “how are you?”

“I’m good, just… taking a break.”

“You working?”

“Yeah, but I work from home,” you said as you touched the side of your neck, “I could… I could come see them but it might be a while before--”

“When are you finished work?” he asked bluntly.

“Four but I… maybe another day.”

“I don’t mean to be pushy but I did have something else to speak with you about,” he said, “a commission, like I mentioned.”

“Oh?”

“I kinda wanna get it started sooner than later, it will probably be pretty time-consuming,” he explained and you heard a clink and a soft sip, “I don’t wanna get into details on the phone but I promise, you will be compensated nicely.”

“You can’t wait until tomorrow?” you wondered.

“I suppose I can but it’d have to be during the day,” he responded, “why don’t you take some time to figure it out and get back to me by two? You can text me through this number.”

“Erm, sure,” you said uneasily, “I’m sorry, it’s just… very sudden, I don’t--”

“You can bring the boyfriend,” he said casually, “if you like.”

“He won’t be… home,” you said carefully, “I’ll let you know. Thank you.”

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he replied, “have a good day.”

“You, too,” you said and the line died.

You put your phone down and took a moment. Good things rarely happened to you. You struggled so long it was hard to think that might change. The skeptic in you told you there was something behind it all. That it couldn’t possibly be your art.

You went back to your computer and sighed as you waved away the screensaver with your mouse. The blinking cursor made you want to believe it was your big break.

🎨

You texted Clark at one and at four, you were in an Uber. Marcus drove his car to work and you stuck to buses and the underground when you could. The address was at least an hour out, the house among those estates on the edge of the city reserved for the upper echelon. You’d only ever seen the sprawling yards on your way to the next town.

When the car finally turned up the drive and you passed beyond a low brick wall, you felt entirely out of your depth. You tipped the Uber but didn’t feel too bad with the check from Vanessa sitting soundly in your account. You clutched the strap of your bag and walked along the curve of the brick work towards the stairs.

“Hey,” you stopped as Clark called to you, your ankle still tender from the night before.

You glanced over as he came out of the large garage and peeled off a pair of leather gloves. He smiled as he tucked them into his jacket pocket. You watched him and played with the clasp on your bag.

“Just got back from a drive,” he said, “I almost got carried away. I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied.

“Well, come on, let me show you around,” he waved behind you towards the front doors, “we’ll go on a tour and then we can talk details.”

“Wow,” you uttered mindlessly as you climbed the stairs to the door but kept the weight on your uninjured ankle, “this place is huge.”

“My contractor went a little crazy,” he scoffed, “but I can’t complain.”

He led you through the doors and directed you to the left. In the front room, your work was hung along the opposite wall, arranged in a way that drew the eye to them. You stepped closer and peered up at your work with a hint of awe. They looked even better in a place like that.

“I had my interior designer make the final call on where to hang them,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind, I gave her your details. She said she had clients who might be interested in your work.”

“Really?” you breathed, “that’s… too nice.”

“Oh yeah? One day, you’ll be sick of rich pricks like me,” he grinned, “I’ll show you the pool, that’s usually the main attraction.”

“Sounds good,” you said as you followed but he paused and watched your stunted gait.

“I forgot, we can go slow,” he offered, “how’s the ankle?”

“I’ll make do,” you affirmed as you neared him, “just need to get my steps in.”

🎨

As you finished the tour of the second floor, you slowed along the long hall and admired the work of artists you only ever saw in museums. You couldn’t help but be enamoured by the historic blots of paint. You almost forgot where you were as you leaned in to read the initials beneath the pastel flowers.

“So,” Clark’s voice brought you back, you almost blanked him out entirely in your mind, “I think you might have noticed the empty space above the fireplace in the front room. I was hoping you could fill it.”

“Oh?” you looked at him and smiled nervously, “did you have something in mind? A landscape or--”

“Well, your portraits are great. I like the old world style. I was hoping you might do one of… me,” he suggested, “I know, it’s vain but why not?”

“I mean, yeah, I could do that,” you said.

“I’ll pay hourly plus materials,” he continued, “three hundred an hour.”

You almost choked at the number. You blinked and swallowed through your surprise.

“Even a small portrait would take at least twelve hours,” you warned, “are you sure?”

“I know it’s a lot of time for you, so… I was thinking, if you have to miss work, I’ll factor it into your rate. I would really like to get the project started as soon as we can,” he put his hand on his hip as he looked down at you, “the only thing I need from you is a list of materials. I’ll have them waiting for you here.”

“Here?”

“Well, yeah, I figure it makes most sense,” he turned his palm out.

“Hmm, sure, I prefer my own brushes but… you know I can just buy the stuff myself--”

“Ah, no, I want it to be perfect. You send me a list and I’ll have my assistant go out and get it all ready,” he assured, “How does Sunday sound?”

“Sunday?” you blanched. That was two days away.

“Like I said, Marcus is more than welcome to come with you,” he offered, “I’d hate to keep you from him too long.”

“I guess Sunday works,” you squeaked, “I’ll talk to Marcus.”

“Great,” he said coolly, “well, that’s business. How about a drink to seal the deal?”

“I don’t know, I should probably get back,” you fiddled with your bag against your hip.

“One drink won’t hurt,” he said, “go on, call the boyfriend and let him know you won’t be much longer.”

“I… thanks,” you murmured.

“You’re humble for an artist,” he joked as he sidled by you, “once you grow an ego, you’ll be unstoppable.” He neared the stairs as you turned to watch him, “I’ll be at the bar, waiting. You like gin?”

“Sure,” you answered as you pulled out your phone, “I’ll see you down there.”

🎨

When you told Marcus about your new side gig, he was even more excited than you. You were anxious and slightly hesitant. You hated to jump in feet first and risk losing more than a few tubes of paint. What if the work wasn’t good enough?

Marcus was more than willing to come with you when you told him about the size of the place. He knew by the area that it was extravagant. You sat in the passenger seat with the most expensive bottle of wine you’d ever bought cradled between your legs. You hated to show up empty handed after all of Clark’s generosity.

Marcus got lost and went down the wrong driveway before you righted your course. As you drove up, you were once more overcome from the rich rosebuds and sparkling fountain at the centre of the mosaic. You gripped the neck of the bottle and got out as Marcus whistled in awe.

“You weren’t kidding. This place is fucking nuts,” he swore, “I should’ve worn the tux from my brother’s wedding.”

“Please, Marcus,” you rolled your eyes, “let’s both try not to break anything.”

“You’re the clumsy one,” he chirped, “shit, you’re so lucky. You get to hang out here and paint all day? God, I wish I had an ounce of artistic talent. I’d trade it for code in a minute.”

You climbed the steps and clanged the large knocker on the right door. You waited a moment before an answer came and Clark appeared on the other side and beckoned you inside. He smiled as he shook Marcus’ hand.

“Thanks for joining us,” he said, “I would’ve felt awful stealing your girlfriend on the weekend like this.”

“Are you kidding me? She said you had a pool and I snuck the swim shorts into the backseat,” Marcus chuckled and you nudged him with your elbow.

“See?” Clark arched a brow, “the pool is always the seller.”

“Here,” you said as you held out the bottle of red, “for everything you’ve done and welcoming us into your home.”

“Ohhh,” he took the bottle and looked over the label, “I got a spot for this right behind the bar. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I brought my brushes,” you patted the canvas bag on your shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah, well, I’ll just put this away and we’ll give Marcus the grand tour. Then I’ll get you situated,” he assured and rushed off.

He returned and pointed Marcus through to the front room, “you’ll see, just over here,” he directed him to your paintings.

“Oh, wow, babe,” Marcus marveled at the hung portraits, “you really did it.”

You smiled bashfully and Clark peeked over at you and winked. You squirmed as your cheeks burned and you turned away as he beckoned Marcus past the mantle.

“It’s a big place,” Clark said, “I’d like to get you started before noon.”

Clark led you along the same path as days before and slowed as you came back to the top of the stairs. He turned back and clapped his hands together.

“Marcus, if you wanna hop in the pool, we’re gonna start just in there,” he pointed to the one door you hadn’t looked through, “that’s the studio.”

“What about you?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I’ll be a part of the process so I’m afraid I will be just as busy but if you need anything, Nina, she has a crooked nose and mean mouth but don’t let her fool you, she’ll get you whatever you need,” he said, “just don’t track in water from the pool or she’ll string you up.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Some alone time in the sun and a pool,” Marcus grinned, “I really couldn’t ask for anything else… except you, babe.”

“Sure,” you scoffed, “go, have fun.”

Marcus kissed you quickly and thanked Clark again before he excitedly barreled down the steps. You scratched your neck as you looked back to your host, and you guessed, your new boss.

“I’m sorry about him. He can be such a kid sometimes,” you said.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waved it off, “so, you ready to see your workspace? I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Also, a bit last minute so it’s not perfect… yet.”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, “can’t wait.”

He motioned you over to the tall dusty rose doors and hooked his fingers in the slotted handles. He slid them open and revealed an airy room with a tall ceiling and long windows. An easel stood facing the sun streaked glass, an immense canvas bigger than yourself, bigger than him, propped up on it. There was a ladder nearby and the table was set with a rainbow of paints and a large pallet.

Your lips parted as you neared the easel and stared up at the canvas, “you were right, it’s gonna be a lot of work.”

“I hope it’s not too much,” he said, “but you name your price. We’ll make it work.”

“No, no, I think for what you’re paying, I’ll do just fine,” you put your bag down daintily on the table, “so, uh, a portrait, I guess that means…”

Your voice trailed off as he went to the upholstered chair across the room, at an angle so you could see him from your vantage. Behind it, hung a velvet curtain to add to the scene and a bust on a pedestal. It felt surreal, like a dream.

You turned and pulled out the brushes, “I think you’ll get more tired than me, just sitting there.”

“I’ll make it through,” he assured as he sat, “is there anyway you’d like me to sit? Chin up, or…”

“Hmmm,” you turned to look at him, “I think… if you just put your shoulders back and… did you want a profile or--”

“I was thinking front-facing,” he stared at you steadily, unflinching as his eyes stuck to you, “just like this.”

“Perfect,” you said nervously and looked back to the table. 

There was water to rinse your brushes, rags, pencils, blending sticks; everything you needed and more. You took a pencil from the bunch and pulled over the ladder. You climbed up and looked over at Clark as he sat stoic and still. He looked picturesque in real life, you expected paint would only lend to his figure.

His eyes met yours and you turned to start tracing the basic shapes onto the canvas. You had to stop and steady your hand as you did. His gaze made it hard not to tremble.

[dienamights]

A Reverberate Lullaby | K.Bakugou

✎ The echoing howls stalk you, a ghost hunched on your shoulders, wailing like a child calling for rescue, who cries with no tears. Chanting for a hero that is willing to pick up the pieces of its soul and being, yet it is only left to wither. For the ghost has lost faith that such others exist and can only be cured by finding them, for you are the ghost of your world and love is the only true exorcist.

✎ Protagonists: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader.

✎ Word count: 4.1K

✎ Category: hurt/comfort, Implied Mature Content MDNI, Prohero!au, Established relationship!au

✎ Caution(!): Implied Mature Content MDNI, mention of depressive state, toxic family, toxic coping mechanism, mention of reader’s weight gain and thoughts about self worth. Please keep in mind while every person’s reaction to depression is different, don’t belittle anyone’s battle when you don’t understand it.

✎ Author’s notes: Hello! Hope everyone’s taking care! Still on hiatus BUT I’m here to post my contribution to the Mental Health Awareness collab by @doinmybesthere​ ! This has been in the works for a while because I kept scarping ideas for triggering me lmao. This piece is very personal to me and I’m glad I am able to share my experience with you all, I hope that it might help anyone out there in reaching out and asking for help because I know how difficult and scary it might be! Please check out everyone’s contribution that they worked so hard for! kisses kisses take care!

OOH ALSO! Thank you so much for 900 followers aaaaaah! You’re all so amazing and if anyone has suggestions for an event to hold in June lemme know! I’ll also think of some ideas

» Masterlist | Requests | Taglist

The morning sun barely rises and peaks through your blinds, sunshine starting to kiss at your cheeks as you squint at the light, the room welcoming the warmth that is being brought into it after the evening’s chill that made you curl tighter in on yourself, clasping whatever heat you could muster than to turn around and find it in the heating pad of a body that lays next to you. 

An alarm only just rings before quickly being shut off, followed by the creaking of the bed when the person behind you shifts, shifts again, another time, before getting up and stalking to the bathroom, after letting an elongated sigh when they sit at the edge of the bed, not acknowledging your presence accompanying theirs. The door clicking closed before the trickling of water fills the quiet room.

Your clock reads 5 am when you squint at it, and you blink at the time before you go on with your routine, setting up breakfast while your boyfriend gets ready to go to work. 

Oddly enough, you don’t really quite remember when you started working on the food, all that you could see in front of you is nothing but a scene that looks like it’s out of a broken TV - there’s just so much static. The voices are distorted, as if they’re coming from a defective radio.

“Listen, this ain’t about me, this is about you and how you-”

“What about me? Huh? That you see me as nothing but a burden? No, you can say it-”

“You wanna hear me fuckin’ say it then fine! This is about you sitting on yer ass all day obsessing over her while she wouldn’ give you the time of day y/n. When will you fuckin’ realize that?”

The scene blurs and sways, and you feel your mind run at a speed you didn’t know it could muster, and you’re unable to keep up with it. The knife in your hand shakes vigorously and barely misses your fingers when you bring it down to cut the vegetables.

The sound of the bedroom door shutting closed alerts you, straightening your back when you hear the drop of your boyfriend’s gauntlet by his chair at the dining table. Katsuki approaches you with careful steps, his still ungloved hand circles your waist before pressing his lips to your temple, a gruff greeting of a whisper laced in between.

“G’morning.”

The familiar scent of caramel mixed in with his aftershave welcomes you, wraps around you and cradles you, promising everlasting safety and happiness. Yet, your heart wrenching sobs and muffled crash of your laptop against your floor that rings in your ears tell a different story, shrieking at you, roaring about your failures, mocking your entire existence.

“Made gohan, should be ready in a minute.” you mumble back, posture stiff at the close proximity of Katsuki and you feel the curl of his lips in displeasure pressing into your temple from both not reciprocating his greeting and your choice of meal for the morning. “You don’ eat gohan,” 

“s’why I’m making it.” The quick retreat from your figure is like a slap to your face, and you barely stop yourself from reaching out and forcing his arms back around you. Because it's the bite in his voice that halts your movement. 

“You’re still going?” you finally turn to take a look at him, the garnets in his eyes shifting, bleeding from hurt, betrayal, confusion, you really weren’t sure. And by God you had no energy left to try and figure out. “Yes I’m still going Katsuki, they’re my-”

“Yer really listenin’ to the bullshit spillin’ outta ya? This isn’t about em being your family y/n, we’ve been through with it already.” the space between you two feels like endless miles, pieces of the broken bridge you both worked so hard to build the only evidence of it ever being there, the rest crumbling into the valley in between your bodies.

“No, you’ve been through with it, I just wanna make things right, m-maybe I can fix it”

“It ain’t yours to fix y/n, when will you realize that?”

“No!” there you go again, sobbing pathetically. “W-why can’t I have a family, huh? Why- why can’t I, fuck, have a family that just loves and supports me a-and just doesn’t- ” your voice croaks, not failing to notice how Katsuki stepped away from the wreck in front of him. Probably having had enough of you, had enough of how troubling and bothersome you are, probably wondering how he got roped with all your shit and got dragged into your mess of a life.

His hands feel like scolding fire when they’re placed on your shoulders, halting their shaking as you cry into the palm of your hand to muffle the sobs, a habit Katsuki has been working so hard on to help you overcome, saddened to see you try and hide your vulnerability from him.

“Because they never made an effort, so why should you?” The tugging at your heart burns, the swallowed sobs feel like needles prickling at your lungs, making breathing feel like an impossible chore. You can’t help but feel restrained whenever you’re presented with the truth, especially unfiltered and unsugarcoated like right now, you know he’s right, you’ve known he was right a long time ago, but admitting it out loud just felt borderline impossible. 

So you do what you do best, push him away, all the strength you can muster barely budges his figure, the meal forgotten on the counter as you run and lock the bedroom door on yourself.

Your footsteps feel heavy, dreading the topics and scenes you’re bound to relive. The grip on the strap of your shoulder bag tightening as you push the glass door open. A sigh escapes past your lips again as you enter the restaurant, half-heartedly smiling at the hostess before making your way inside to look for them.

It’s always the same scenery, the kind that always makes you want to run away to the other direction instead of being dragged down into whatever hell this is. And you pause to question yourself, again, why you actually agreed to put yourself out there.

There they are, seated in the four person table, with two empty seats, one for yourself and the other for the sibling your mother always hoped to have instead of you.

Your mother’s pursed lip could be seen from where you stand at the entrance, the clicking of her tapping foot sounding as bad as grinding metals in your ear, you hate it, despise it

It’s the same clicking you learned to memorize, to anticipate, to fear, when she passed by your room, the clicking that made you smother your face in your pillows and swallow your sobs, because the sound of you crying brought her more distress and annoyance than concern for her daughter.

With another tug at the hem of the shirt you’re wearing, you approach the table, hugging your father when he stands up and nodding to your mom when she eyes your figure.

“Good morning mother. It’s good to see you.”

“What’s wrong with your hair?”

Here we go, you breathe out before tugging at a strand of hair, spitting out your words “nothing’s wrong with it.”

“Then why does it look awful like that?”

There are times like these where you are left to question your reasoning for accepting whatever invitation you received from your parents to have brunch with them after all those months, a moment of weakness deceiving you into believing it was better than to spend it in your empty apartment, with the silence that ate away at your sanity every second. The only evidence of life in it other than yours was the recently cleaned dishes and the note thanking you for the meal, the promise of cuddles and movies tonight making you gain just a little more patience, barely.

You refrain from answering, your response is to lower your head, drag the dining chair before plopping on it, a dreary sigh escaping your lips as you scoot your chair closer to the table. Your mother never changes, it’s been a while since you were able to move out of her home, and while your father tries to tell you that these brunches are a way to reconnect with them, you yourself know that it’s merely a chance for your mother to nitpick at everything you ever did or are doing since you left.

“How have you been y/n.” your father smiles at you, both of you ignoring the sound of your mother kissing her teeth when her attempted jab at you is ignored. “Uh, I uh I’ve been good, I just wrapped up with my exams and so far things have been-” 

“How is your hero boyfriend?” 

For a second, you contemplate whether to ignore her question and keep conversing with your dad, dreading the questions that are to be pushed your way regarding Katsuki, of which will be used as bragging material for when she meets whatever group of friends she associates herself with, but you know better than to ignore her with the way she gets when she isn’t fed with attention. 

“He’s uh, good.”

“Why isn’t he here today? What, too good to meet us?” your mother nags, and for the love of God, would that fucking clicking ever stop?

“No, he’s doing his job of, you know, being a hero.”

“Is he now? Well, what about you, hm?” She cocks her head as her nails tap the table. ”Did you think your father and I wouldn’t figure out you got fired?”

“How-” the gritting of your teeth is deafening at this point, your jaw clenching so tightly as you and your mother stare each other down. “Your dad pulled some strings, it isn’t that hard. So tell me, you like leeching off of him after you were done with us?”

“This isn’t, I just- I was- I, I had a lot of university work piling up a-and I couldn’t make time for my shifts and I just, it was just so hard for me to get out of bed these days and I.” why are you doing this? Why are you explaining yourself to people that don’t deserve it? Why are you feeding off of their acceptance, knowing damn well you never got it, and that thing was never gonna change. 

“Oh, I don’t wanna hear about you not getting out of bed, you’re here now aren’t you? This is all in your head y/n. You need to stop talking nonsense, what’re people gonna say about you, about me, when they hear you?” 

It feels just like yesterday, your figure standing and facing your full length mirror, your reflection eyeing you with identical vacant eyes. Fingers running through your bed head, a wince escaping you at the movement. Bringing your hand up and catching a glimpse of a slight swollen purple bruise along your wrist and the dried blood on your knuckles, the skin stretching upon rotating your wrist and causing notable pain.

Alas, that pain paled in comparison to when your mom barged into your room, blaming you for the way you were acting and belittling your reasoning. Beckoning your father over to replace your broken vanity and for your house maid to disinfect the space, the place sparkling clean and void of any evidence of what had transpired the day prior. 

The shattered glass was picked up and thrown out, the splatters of blood were wiped clean, and whenever you brought up, what your mom refers to as ‘the temper tantrum’, you’re ignored by both your parents as they continued about their day, fearing the shame it would bring upon their name if the event was to catch others’ attention. 

“Good morning! I’ll be your server for the day. What can I get you?” the foreign voice sounds more comforting than your own mother’s, and you almost laugh at the irony of it, but you only return her smile and take a look at the menu. Lighting up a smidge at the name of one of the dishes, while your parents place their order.

“Can I please get the soufflé pancake?” you look up to catch the horrified look on your mother’s face, followed by her clicking her tongue and shaking her head as if your choice of food was shameful. 

“Certainly-”

“Uh, no she won’t be having that. Get her the Honzen Ryori,” your mother eyed your figure -whatever was visible to her from across the table- before turning to face the server again “maybe cut down on the rice, God knows she doesn’t need the extra calories.” and waves her off, disregarding your protests and tapping her nail against the table top, her annoying method in demanding your silence, which you subconsciously react to, snapping your mouth shut when the sound reaches your ears.

“What was that for? You know I like having sweet breakfasts,” was fuming even close to what you are feeling? Probably not. “Yes I can clearly see that, you’ve let yourself go as well. Do you think that boyfriend of yours will stick around when you start putting on even more weight?”

At a loss for words, you turn to your father, who has been quiet this whole time, for any sense of support when it comes to his wife. But the way he presses his lips together tells you all you need to know, how just because he isn’t bad as her, doesn’t make him that great of a parent. That standing by while you have been bullied your entire childhood and well into your adulthood is just as bad as being the cause of it. 

“God forbid he realizes how much of a train wreck you really are and throws you on the side of the street, because you know damn well we won’t be here to pick you up.”

It began as a whispering in the air. The day had been beautiful -well, as beautiful as it can be with the kind of day you’re having- and the sky was like a dome of plasma-blue. The clouds had looked like airy anvils drifting under the gleaming disc of sun. People quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. The postcard-perfect sky started changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade merged in with the flaming orange and mesmerizing purple as the sun sunk deep into the horizon, before beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of cloud start to form, blocking out the old-gold color of the sun.

The first splatter of rain hits you when you’re halfway across the street, dismissing the need to take shelter under the roof of the buildings like some passersby are doing, hoping to see out the shower. Droplets of moisture begin to drip onto your head, sprinkling onto you like a gardener’s hose. It was well after your meal with your parents, and you had spent the last few hours walking aimlessly through the streets, making sure to avoid those covered by your boyfriend during his patrol. Hoping, praying, that something will clear your head, will help your poor jumbled mess of a mind forget about this entire nightmare of a day.

Should’ve listened to him 

The rainfall intensifies, the drops drumming against the hood of the cars that you pass by, there is so much rain that the sound blurs into one long, whirring noise, reminding you of the blades of the fan that you stuck your finger in, that one time when you were left alone in your house when you were only five years of age. Eventually, they fade into a musical chime as you push your drenched hair away from your face and feel the vibration from your phone as it rings the ninth, maybe tenth time. 

He told me so. 

Tall apartment complex building; you couldn’t see its end from where you stand. You shiver as you approach it, the doorman - bless his heart - running and placing his umbrella to futilely shield you from the rain, and you just laugh and tell him that you’re already drenched and just waiting to go back home.

God forbid he realizes how much of train wreck I am

Not wanting to dampen the people at the elevator and make them uncomfortable, you take the stairs up to your shared apartment, you usually don't mind the exercise but with how heavy you feel after the rain and day spent up on your sore feet, all you think about is locking yourself in your room and discover what kind of new façade could you try and fool Katsuki with when he reaches home.

Just how I trick him into thinking I’m not with him to leech off of him

Eventually and with a struggle, you make it to the door, dreading the sight you might come to face, almost hoping for a black hole to emerge and swallow you whole.

What would people say about me? Do people think I’m crazy?

With a forced exhale out of your lungs, you fetch the key from your bag to unlock the door, but it’s wrenched open before you have a chance to insert your key.

“Where the hell have you been?” 

Your eyes meet the beautiful rubies of Katsuki, and despite his anger that always overcompensates his worry, you smile and throw yourself on him. The shivering ceasing when he wraps his warm arms around you and that loving caramel scent engulfs you, in spite of how your hair is drenching his shirt and how you sniff against his neck.

“You need a shower, you’re shivering.”

“Take one with me?” you look up at him through your lashes, and he blinks at your uncharacterized boldness but agrees nonetheless, helping you out of your clothes and turning on the hot water before stepping in with you.

It is a struggle to help you clean up when all you do is grab at him, whether they’re your hands on his shoulders to lower him to kiss you, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your breasts against him, or palming his hardening cock as the poor man tries to shampoo your hair.

“Would ya knock it off? I’m tryna help you here shitty woman” you frown and squint your eyes when the shampoo gets close to them. “I wanna have sex.” 

“Yea I can fuckin tell, just lemme-” you bring his arms down and press his palms to your boobs, letting go of his wrist when he starts squeezing at them. “Do you not want to?” he gulps, his dick twitching at the feeling of your soft mounds in his hands, your nipples covered up by the suds from the shampoo, as your finger traces the underside of his cock. “Yeah, I uh, fuck, I do, just- you need to wash up so you don’t get sick, alright?”

“Do you not think I’m pretty anymore?” you pout childishly, tears threatening to escape your eyes, and they burn as you close them when he washes the product out of your hair, a deep frown on his lips when you open your eyes back again. “The fuck you on about? That rain really fucked with ya?”

“Are you gonna get rid of me when you realize how much of a mess I am?” you whisper, your voice muffled under the sound of the shower above you, and you keep quiet as he helps you scrub your body, but your boyfriend is observant, he isn’t fucking dense.

“What do you want, right now?” he lowers himself to your level when he’s done, his hands stroking your cheeks as he eyes the way the water droplets cling to your lashes, but still not missing the red rimming around your eyes.

“I just wanna for- I uh, I wanna have sex.” you mumble, a plea hidden underneath your words, a plea to help you forget, to help you bury this day behind you and pretend it never happened.

What you don’t expect is the way that Katsuki pulls your naked wet body out of the bathroom and drops you on the bed, feeling your bodies dampening the bed as he hovers over you, no words are spoken between you as he kisses and nips at your skin. Marking it up and down as he all but worships your body, strands of his hair tangle between your fingers when you run your hands through it, arching your back at the feeling of his tongue tasting your slick.

He doesn’t let up until you cry out, and not in pleasure, your sobs far beyond those he loves to hear when he’s denying you an orgasm. No, they’re sobs that wreck your whole body, kicking away at his shoulders as you curl in on yourself and wail into the sheets. Sitting on his haunches on the floor, Katsuki’s eye soften at your figure, the way your shoulders are shaking and how -yet again- you’re trying to muffle your cries with the sheets this time, pressing your face against the mattress in an attempt to lower your noise, as your mother would call it.

“Hey, look at me” you feel his lips grazing your ear as he kisses it, pressing his lips against your temple, fingers unwrapping your fist against the sheet and digging into your hands and pressing kisses against the nail marks in the palm of your hands. “There she is, there’s my girl.” you hear when you lift your head from the bed, sight blurry from your shed tears but still easy to distinguish Katsuki even between billions of people.

You sniff when he kisses at your lids, groan when he chuckles and calls you ‘snot the naught’ when you wipe your nose with the back of your hand, beaming when he hears you let out one weak chuckle at the way he teases you. Still pressing his lips against any surface of skin he can reach.

“You don’t have to talk about it you know, to me at least” he mumbles to you when you’re both dressed in your sleepwear and are cuddling on the dry side of the bed, opting to change the sheet the next day. “Maybe, maybe we can get someone who can help you, you know.” you press your face deeper between his neck and shoulder, shuddering when his warm palms rub your back from under your shirt. 

“I can make some calls, get in contact with someone.” you lift your head. “But I can’t afford-” he tuts and frowns at you “None of that.” 

“Remember what I said when we agreed to move in?” you do, you just love the sound of his voice when he says it, feels like he’s making all these promises all over again. “Tell me.”

“Told ya I’d be whoever you want me to be, whoever you need me to be. I’ll be yer mom, even better than that bitch, I’ll support and love you unconditionally.” you sniff and tighten your hold against him as he presses his lips against your cheek. 

“I’d be better than yer pussy dad, you can rely on me any time and I’ll live up to all your expectations. And callin me daddy is always a plus” he tangles his legs with your own when you wiggle away from him, laughing and giving you no chance of escape, not that you are even thinking of it. 

“I’d even be yer genius fuckin nanny that taught you to tell yer mom to go fuck herself when you were four,” your suppressed giggles lights him up and he can’t help but chuckle as well. “I’ll be anything and everything you’ll ever need, baby. I’ll be your goddamn hero.”

The sun comes out again, casting slanted beams of light across the buildings. Steam rises slowly from the greenery. It rises up eerily and drifts mist-like towards the molten-gold sun, right before it escapes into the abyss. The image is so vivid that it stays with you for as long as you remember. Because on this exact day, the shrieking that follows you everywhere you go, haunting you and mocking you, suddenly is nowhere to be found. And all you can hear is the comforting sound of Katsuki as he hums you a lullaby to sleep.

aaaah I hope you like it!

[luimagines]

Hi! I have a request, but first i wanna say your writing is absolutely amazing! The length + amount of time you put into these prompts is insanely good. Now! Onto the request, how would the boys react to a reader from a more modern era? Maybe a more modernized hyrule or our current point in time?

Masterlist

Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm happy to see the response even if this blog is still relatively new.

I hope I do your prompt justice.

I probably could have done a headcanon list but I was hit with inspiration.

I also might have given Reader some backstory.

Scenario below the cut! It’s long, take caution.

It was a cool night, but you didn't mind. Your bed was warm, the WiFi was fast and even if it was three AM on a school night, you managed to keep yourself giggling with cat videos and blursed memes until the words and colors merged.

A night well spent.

But it led to questionable decisions.

Even if the shredded cheese in the fridge was beginning to seem a more and more enticing snack, your body was tempted to succumb to slumber.

Until a large purple light encompassed the entirety of your window.

Something was in your backyard.

Aliens. Your tired brain supplies and you sprint to the glass and push away the curtains. Is this it? Is this where I'm kidnapped and never seen or heard from again?

You pull out your phone and open up the camera.

"Pics or it didn't happen." You remind yourself and snap a few before showing your face.

What you see isn't what you're expecting. Instead of a flying saucer in the sky beaming down a laser or a weird pear shaped space craft on top of the grass, there's a single panel of glowing light, swirling with black accents that creeps in a circular motion.

"Cheese and crackers...." You gasp and begin to blatantly stare at it with no regard to whether something may be coming out of it.

You wait and nothing happens.

You wait some more and nothing happens.

You spend an hour watching this portal that has appeared out of nowhere, waiting for something to happen, willing for something to happen. But you get nothing.

The unknown stares right back at you, unblinking and unchanged.

Go through it. A voice tells you. What if there's something on the other side?

"I'm going to die." You gulp and take a deep breath.

Who else gets a chance like this? The voice talks again. This could be a grand step towards a more modern society. A whole new world could be on the other side, waiting, reaching out, calling to humanity!

You think you a see a shadow move behind the portal and out of sight but it’s gone before you can even process it.

"Should I call the police?" You step away from the window, ignoring the thoughts, the voice- you're too tired to know if it's your own any more. What's the plan? How does one go about something like this?

Where’s your sense of adventure? Pack a bag and go! What if it goes away?

That last thought seems to get through to your tired brain and for a reason beyond your understanding, it latches onto it.

Now you’re excited.

You run to the closet and take out your old backpack. It used to be for school but it was fancier since it was the only one you could get. The bag had a replaceable water bag with a plastic straw connected through the back of it and the straps have just worn down enough to where they’re actually comfortable. It doubled as a hiking backpack and came with its own insulated lunch box that clasped on the back of it.

It’ll finally serve its purpose.

You quickly roll up your favorite blanket and strap it in tightly beneath the lunch box. You’re quick to take out two extra outfits and pack them as well as change out of your pajamas.

Ok. What would you need? You don’t know where you’d be going so this has to a catch all kind of deal.

You pack away your swiss army knife first for good measure. A solar powered charger for your phone and an extra pair of socks follow suit even after you’ve picked out the extra clothes.

You take out the water bag and run to fill it all the way to max capacity as you think of any other necessities.

You’d need food. You have a small jar of peanut butter and granola bars that can fit in the lunch box. You can bring your extra water bottle and put in the side pockets of the backpack, and maybe bring some of those powered flavor packets your brother loves so much. You think he has lemonade and some green tea ones.

Those would be great. He won’t mind, hopefully.

You let the bag overfill momentarily before running back to shove it in your bag. with the lid screwed tight.

Next you run to the kitchen, grabbing the first things that you thought of already and begin to look around for more.

You grab an unopened pack of beef jerky, a bag of veggie sticks and a half eaten bag of dried mangos.

During your search you grab the water bottle and fill that too.

You return to your room with your bounty and begin to carefully put everything in the box. With some more deliberation, you run back to the kitchen and make yourself a quick sandwich, eat it, make another one and pack that as well.

You look out side the window and the portal is still there.

The sun is beginning to rise now so you’re trying to go as fast as you can, unless you want to neighbors to think something is going on.

Even if it is.

You’re about to leave but in a stroke of brilliance, you run to pack sunscreen and bug spray as well. You see a small first aid pack that was bought recently for when you would take your family vacation but you reason that it might one of the most important things you’d have if you got hurt.

Into the bag it goes.

You grab your hoodie before you leave the door, wrap it around your waist and pocket your phone, your headphones and your wallet.

You feel immediately under packed when you step outside and see the portal up close.

It’s weirdly triangle shaped, you think and step closer.

You reach your hand out and try to touch it. It feels as if you put your hand through a humidifier but it’s not wet. It’s misty and cold but not necessarily unpleasant.

An idea hits you right before you take your first step through.

You pull up one of the earlier photo’s you took and send it to your friend’s group chat. It showed up in my backyard. I decided to make a bad late night decision and I’m going through. If you never hear from me again, I want you all to fight over my electronics. Winner takes all. Godspeed.

And you step through.

You had first assumed that it would merely take you tot he other side but very quickly realize that you have to walk through it.

The first part still had a little light but with time, it got darker. So dark that you couldn’t even see your hand in front of your face.

You kept walking.

As fast as the light disappeared, it came back and you stepped into the light of an open field, right in front of one, two, three, four, nine males that had appeared to be traveling towards you or rather, towards the portal.

The portal disappears in the process.

“Oh so we didn’t have to go through it! We had to gain another member!” One of them yells. “Would have been nice to know before we packed everything up!”

“Ho boy, where am I?” You ask and tighten your grip on your backpack. Why didn’t I bring a weapon?

They all had long tunics and swords on their backs. Old fashioned leather boots and hand bracers were the norm in this group and you realized very quickly that your jeans and t-shirt had wildly missed the memo.

“Dang, I didn’t think I’d walk into a LARP group. Sorry about that.” You sheepishly smile. “I had no idea where the portal was going to take me. But if you would be so kind-”

“Wait, what’s LARP?” One of them speaks up. He was a dirty blond and somewhere in the middle of the group height wise. He wore a white cape like thing with blue designs on the back but you didn’t recognize the symbol.

“Live Action Role Play?” You tilt your head. “It’s why you’re all dressed like that? Right?”

“This is just our clothes.” What appears to be the youngest bounces up to you. “What are you wearing?”

“First I could grab in my closet.” You admit and look down on it. It’s one of your comfiest shirts and best looking pants. You’re a little proud of yourself for finding those in the dark.

“Weird.”

“We’re heroes. We’re all named Link.” Cape guy speaks up again. “Is it safe to assume that you’re in the same boat?”

“Heroes?” Your eyebrows furrow together. “I’m not a hero and my name’s not Link.”

You’re quick to tell them your name and you watch as the confusion covers their faces. “My brother’s name is Link though if that helps anything.”

“Oh we needed him!” The youngest groans and it instantly irks you.

“What would you need with a five year old?” You deadpan and cross your arms. 

The information stuns the group.

“The portal showed up in the middle of the night and I’m the one that went through it. I’m pretty sure I was the only awake to even see it. Are you telling me that it was for my little brother?” You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little pissed. “My baby brother was supposed to go through it? He was asleep! He’s five. What kind of logic is that?!”

“Well...” The biggest and oldest of them runs a hand over his face. You think he has some cool tattoos and sick scar going across his eye but he looks about as angry as you feel, so you don’t say anything. “It appears the gods truly do not care for the hero’s maturity, only his existence.”

“Ok...What’s with all this hero talk?” You bite back. “What did... Where am I?”

“Hyrule.” The second with cool face tattoos speaks up. He’s got a large fur pelt around his shoulders and you have to tighten your grip against your backpack again to keep from reaching out to touch it.

Even so you feel yourself deadpan even more. “Hyrule? Like the ancient empire? The one that collapsed more than two thousand years ago? That Hyrule?”

You’re inclined to not believe them and write all of them off as crazy... but you also walked through a portal. And your grandma did say that magic existed in the strangest forms.

They all share looks of concern and some begin to murmur quietly amongst themselves but you’re too far gone to even notice.

“Did I time travel?” The idea hits you like a bus and you feel your eyes widen as you stare beyond the group. You quickly take our your phone and unlock it.

No signal.

“Is that a type of Sheikah slate?” Someone asks you.

“I don’t know what that is.” You reply automatically. “Wait, hold on, what year is it?”

“Why don’t you tell us what year you’re from and we can start from there?” The darkest brunette of the group speaks up.

“202x PC” You say robotically, not really processing the world around you anymore.

“That’s...” The blond with a long blue scarf speaks up with a slight hiss. “...Beyond any of our timelines. You see, we all come from different worlds and eras of Hyrule’s history.”

“I don’t think you’re the farthest down anymore, Wild.”

“This would then make them my successor, right?”

“It would make their brother your successor.” Someone amends. “I think they just jumped in his place.”

“Leave my brother alone.” You snap back into the present, pocketing your [hone again. “Ok, you know what, screw it. I don’t know what you’d want my brother for but I’m here now. I’d gladly take his place if it means he gets to stay home!”

“Hey.” A boy with pink hair stalks up to you looking a little more serious than you’d like.

“Nice hair dude, way to defy the gender norms.” You smirk a little before genuinely grinning, hoping to quell the tension. “What product do you use? It looks like Artic Fox but not every place sells their brand.”

“...I have no idea what you’re talking about but what happened to Ganon in your world? How have you been handling it?” He snaps and places his hands on his hips.

“Ganon? Like my old principle? That’s a name I haven’t heard in forever.” You’re confused again. “Last I heard he joined the police force only to be reassigned out of state. I don’t know what’s happening with him. Kinda hope he gets fired though. He’s not a bad guy but he’s not someone you’d want in that kind of position of power, you know.”

“Police force?”

You blinked and look them all over. They look very medieval. “Oh... You don’t have that...”

You begin to think about your history lessons and what they might be familiar with if they’re telling the truth about being from Hyrule.

“Ya’ll got knights?”

Many, almost all of them nod, a few with face of despair already on them before you finish speaking.

“It’s kind of like that. Mixed with a towns guard position... kinda. They enforce laws... at least they’re supposed to but the whole system is flawed and racist and really needs to be dismantled for the abuse of power that they have-”

“Abuse? Of power?” You have their attention again.

“It’s stupid and it won’t really make any sense if I try to explain because I doubt you have anything similar but it’s basically a group of people given the right to treat the public in anyway they like for their own benefit because they have no one telling them that they can’t.” You groan and slowly begin to feel your lack of sleep catch up to you. 

You slowly reach to behind you and sit down on the dirt, looking at all of them. “Mr. Dragmire wasn’t like...Demise or anything but he was a huge jerk. No one liked him. He liked me though. I remember that. I was the envy of the whole school because I somehow got on his good side while everyone else wants to strangle him. I think he was transferred for some misdemeanor or something like that... like he might have been throwing hands with someone he wasn’t supposed to. I never heard all the details. I didn’t really care for it when it happened either. I’m pretty sure he lost that fight though. The dude looked like a blast of wind could have knocked him over let alone someone’s knuckle sandwich.”

“I would love to hear more about this.” The youngest sits next to you with a large grin on his face. His eyes are bright and his body language reminds you of your cousin Zelda. You instantly think they’d get along like a house on fire. “What are your monsters like?”

“Monsters?” You tilt your head. “Be a little more specific bud, it depends on where you’re from.”

“You have that many?!”

“It depends on if you believe they’re real or not.”

“Speaking of monsters, can you fight?” The shortest walks up to you. You like that his tunic is stitched up with multiple colors and designs. It gives it personality, you think. “Do you have a weapon you’re more comfortable with?”

The question throws you off your rhythm and you don’t fight your wince. “What would happen if I say that I do not, in fact, have any sort of weapon on me?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.” Pink guy speaks up again. “That pack is huge, there has to be something in there.”

“It’s food, water and extra clothes my guy.” You lean back against said backpack since it won’t let you lay down with it still on. “Not a lot of space for anything else. I’m pretty good at hand to hand combat though. Karate’s a good way to fight out stress.” 

“Your bag’s not magic?”

“Why the hell would it be magic? ...Are you trying to tell me magic actually exists?” You raise an eyebrow as your eyes begin to close against your will. “I know my grandma said it does but I thought she meant like fairies and shadow demons.. and bigfoot. Can’t forget him, he’s the real MVP... You know...Children’s bedtime stories and stuff like that, it’s not real. But like magic magic? Magic items and the like? Find me Tinkerbell and I’ll show you Neverland, that’s what I say.”

“Are you serious?”

“Second star to the right, straight on till morning.” You respond.

There’s a moment of silence as the group in front of you processes your words. It’s hard to tell their reaction since you’re not looking at them but you no longer have the energy to do anything else.

“Are you falling asleep right now?” It’s the one they called Wild.

“I...” You try to open your eyes. They don’t budge. “I haven’t slept in nearly 20 hours... I think. I might have past 24 hours a while ago actually. Portal showed up at like four in the morning... I had to get up at six and I didn’t sleep at all before then.”

More silence.

“Great another one.” Someone scoffs.

You snort.

“Why did we pack up camp again?”

“No one kill me.” You say right before you lose consciousness. “Please and thank you.”

“They’re doomed.”

“Have some faith Vet. They stepped in for their little brother. That has to mean something?”

“They’re in for a rude awakening, and that’s all I have to say about it.”

[scuttling]

In Those Jeans

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 2,599 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Blow jobs, Thigh riding, Car sex, Unprotected sex, Semi-public sex Summary: After almost two years of dating, you and Aaron still can't keep your eyes—or hands—off of each other, even at a company picnic; but who could blame you, when he looks like that? *Inspired by this gifset I think we all reblogged last night. I'm feral for Hotch in jeans. 🤤 Link to AO3 or read below! As Aaron’s girlfriend of almost two years, there have been countless times when you’ve gotten to see the rarer sides of his personality, things he doesn’t show at work, or at least not often.

You’ve seen his silly side with Jack when he builds pillow forts, plays tag in the backyard, makes messes in the kitchen. You’ve seen his sweet side when he gives you a back rub just because, makes your favorite dinner when you’ve had a stressful week, when he’s there to talk or just cuddle after appointments with your therapist, which he knows can bring your mood down a little.

You’ve seen him tender, romantic, playful, emotional, loving and caring and capable, but nothing compares to the hidden knowledge you have of one aspect of his personality: your man is horny as hell, and also kind of a freak.

At work, of course, he is the epitome of stoic, expressionless, buttoned-up suit, but a little flash of panty, or a sultry look, or even a well-timed innuendo is enough to have you knees up in the backseat of a government-owned SUV before the rest of your team even leaves the parking garage.

You silently thank god for tinted windows; you not-so-silently thank god for Aaron.

It’s amazing, because you are the same way, half turned-on at any given time of the day, catapulted to full on horny mess depending on the look on his face, the outfit he’s wearing, whether or not he calls you by your last name—before you were dating, you longed to hear him say your first name, but now it’s the impersonal bark of your surname that really gets you going.

Because you share the same predisposition for being down to fuck most of the time, all it takes is a raised eyebrow or a sway of the hips to signal you’re in the mood for something to happen, and if it’s physically feasible and won’t get you arrested, you usually follow through.

It’s how you end up getting absolutely wrecked in the back of the SUV at an FBI family picnic event—you don’t feel great about it, but it is what it is, and it all started with a pair of jeans. Aaron is hot. There’s no doubt about it, and it’s not up for debate. He doesn’t see it, but that just makes him hotter; if other people don’t see it, that just makes them stupid. You see it, though, everyday, in the smallest of ways, can’t stop seeing it. When he gets ready for the picnic, throws on a soft, worn t-shirt and a pair of jeans that fit him so well it’s almost criminal, you make a noise in the back of your throat, and Aaron grins.

“What’s happening over there?” he asks as you sit on the edge of the bed, hooking the strap of your sandal over your heel. You exhale, scowl.

“I think you know very well what’s happening.” He chooses a belt from the back of the door, slides it through the loops on the jeans, and your mouth waters. “Fuck, Aaron.”

“No time for that,” he says, looking up at you through his stupidly dark eyelashes, and he clasps the buckle, smooths his hands down his thighs. You’re going to be soaked before you even leave the house.

“I beg to differ.” You stand from the bed, twirl a little in a blue sundress you know Aaron won’t be able to resist for long. Two can play at this game: if he wants to watch you slowly lose your composure in public, you’re sure as hell not going to make it easy.

“Ugh. Love those little dresses,” he murmurs, stepping toward you, but you shake your head and wag a finger at him.

“Nope, no time for that,” you say, but you giggle when he narrows his eyes and stalks closer anyway.

He tackles you, tosses you back on the bed, kisses your mouth and neck, then whispers dirty things into your ear and rubs you through your panties until you come so loud it could wake the dead. You undo that stupid belt, tug his jeans down just enough to free his cock, toss your hair over your shoulder, and blow him like you’re being graded on it—if that were the case, you’d be getting extra credit for technique, no doubt about it.

You leave a little later than intended, and you know you just made a huge mistake, because getting him out of those jeans again is going to be all you can think about for the rest of the day; you’re not certain what’s going through his head, but you know for a fact he’s thinking pretty much the same thing.

Even though you’re both bummed that it’s Jack’s weekend with Haley and he's missing the picnic, you have to admit it’s kind of good timing, because you don’t let yourself get distracted when he is with you, but Aaron is looking so damn distracting today. You sit at a picnic table with JJ and Garcia, drinking iced tea and watching Will and Aaron play catch with Henry and a couple other kids. You’d say this is just a tactic, because seeing Aaron interact with kids always gives you baby (and babymaking) fever, but you know deep down he just loves children, and that makes your heart warm more than anything.

When he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face? Now that’s a tactic, and a damn good one. You can’t hold back your whimper, and your friends take one look at you and share an amused glance.

“It’s a family picnic,” JJ says, scolding and teasing all at once. “Keep it in your pants.”

“It’s his pants you need to be worried about,” you mutter, and you fan yourself with your hand to try to bring yourself down a notch. That, of course, does not work, so you sigh, stand from the table, pour a cup of lemonade, and give them a wink before walking over to Aaron’s side. You get his attention with an innocent look, hand over the lemonade with a sweet smile.

“You look hot. And thirsty,” you tell him, and he smiles, tips his head back, and drinks it all in one gulp. You watch him swallow, squeeze your thighs together.

“So do you,” he says with a hint of a smirk, handing back the cup, and he leans in to whisper in your ear. “Thanks for the lemonade; now let me watch you walk away.” You pull back, lick your lips slowly and turn around, throwing him a look over your shoulder as you make your way back to the picnic table. Emily and Derek are there now too, and Emily laughs when you take your seat.

“Two years in and you still look at each other like that? Please tell me your secret,” she says with a grin, taking a sip of her iced tea.

“Tons of quality orgasms,” you answer with a fond sigh, tucking your chin in the palm of your hand and watching Aaron cross the lot. There’s something so powerful about his stride that it makes you horny just to watch him walk; your downstairs brain is so stupid. “He also makes really good jalapeno mac and cheese.” The answer to your question, when am I going to get fucked by my gorgeous boyfriend?, will be answered shortly, you’re fairly certain; you have a good feeling, because you’re talking to an agent that works on the floor above yours, and the strap of your dress has fallen down your shoulder, and he keeps glancing at it. You’d fix it, but that would only draw more attention to it, and you can already feel Aaron looking at you.

He doesn’t get jealous often, but get him in the right mood and his dumb caveman instincts switch from fight or flight to fight or fuck pretty quickly; when he heads your way with swift, purposeful steps, you’re pretty sure you know which one has been activated today.

“Hey. Time to go,” he says, looking over your face; he turns to nod at the guy you’re talking to, then very slowly hooks his finger in the strap of your dress and slides it back into place, making eye contact with you while he does it. You don’t know why that makes you so goddamn hot, but your breathing picks up and you bite your lip, take his hand when he offers it.

You don’t say goodbye to anyone, just follow him quickly to the car and climb into the backseat when he opens the door. The second he closes it behind him, his mouth is on yours, and you fist your fingers in his t-shirt, hitch a leg over his hip, and pull him closer.

“I want you, I need you,” you breathe into the kiss, and he slides one hand around your back, uses the other to push up your dress and grab a palmful of your ass.

“I know, baby. God, I want you. You look fucking perfect in that dress; I want to tear it off.” It’s sort of expensive, and pretty, but fuck, you’re going to let him. He shifts so his back is against the seat, pulls you into his lap, and you moan when he presses you right on top of his cock, hard and bulging against the seam of his jeans. “Feel what you do to me, when you’re looking like a goddamn angel and other men can’t take their eyes off of you?” You tug on his hair, kiss him roughly, move your hands to his belt, but he stops you with gentle fingers. “First I want you to ride my thigh. You’ve been staring at them all day; do you want to?”

“Fuck, absolutely,” you whine, and he puts his hands on your hips, shifts you so your knees are on either side of his perfect, firm, denim clad thigh and encourages you to grind against it. You don’t need much encouragement, but he eases down one of the straps of your dress and maneuvers it so that he can bare your breast, get his lips around your nipple while you work to get yourself off. “Oh, god yeah.”

You plant your hands on his shoulders, dig your nails in through the soft fabric, and slide against him like a needy, horny teenager. You’re wet, and he’s undoubtedly going to be wet too by the time you’re done with him, leg soaked with your come—god, that’s a hot prospect. Both of you are panting, not from exertion but arousal, and you move a hand to the back of his head, grip his hair in your fingers while he sucks and softly bites your nipple. When he pulls back, his lips are wet, and you capture them in a kiss.

“Yeah, you’re doing so good, keep going. Keep humping, baby, come on me.” He gets a hand in your hair, kisses your neck, and you cling to him for dear life, broad back and shoulders beneath your hands as you work your hips desperately in pursuit of your orgasm. “So fucking perfect, come on me,” he mutters against your throat, and you hug him close, absolutely lose it as your climax makes your body tense from shoulders to toes.

You moan in his ear like an absolute slut—if you are one, he’s made you that way, so it’s only fair—and he kisses your mouth, deep, rough, wet kisses that ensure your desire does not dip in the slightest. You feel dirty and incredible, but no more relieved or satisfied than you were ten minutes ago.

A little bit of Aaron is never enough; no amount of Aaron is ever enough.

He makes sure you can hold yourself up and then takes his hands off of you, opens his belt and his pants and pushes them down his thighs far enough that you’ll be comfortable. You slide off of his leg to slip your panties off—they’re useless at this point anyway—and he gets his hands on your hips and puts you in his lap, holds you up so you can line his cock up with your entrance and let him press inside.

“Mmh, fuck, Aaron,” you gasp, and with the way he looks at you, eyes dark and serious and possessive, you know this will be quick for the both of you. You wrap one hand around his bicep, press back against his knee with the other; he slides his hands up to your waist, dragging the skirt of your dress up with him so he can watch himself disappear inside you, which is ten different kinds of sexy.

“Thinking about this all day—burying my cock inside your sweet, tight pussy, coming deep inside you. Do you like it, getting fucked here because I want you so bad I can’t stand to wait?” Even though you know you shouldn’t, you do, and you nod, moan yes when he fucks up inside you, strong thighs flexing. “Me too, love it, love you.”

“Love you,” you murmur while you bounce in his lap, eyes on his, tongue slipping over your lips while you snap your hips against his thrusts. “Gonna milk your cock, take every last drop; greedy for it.” Aaron groans, tightens his hands on your waist, and you clench around him when he comes, riding him fast and thorough; you follow quickly, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder while you shudder through the pleasure.

His hands are gentle after, smoothing up your back, around your neck, and he pulls you closer for a soft, sweet, passionate kiss. When it breaks, you smile against each other's lips.

“Tease,” you whisper, smoothing your hands over his throat, his jaw. “New unwritten rule: if you wear those jeans in public, I get as much sex as I want for the rest of the night.” He chuckles, but ultimately nods.

“Deal. New unwritten rule: when we’re out in public and someone is looking at you like that guy was looking at you, I have permission to throw you over my shoulder and take you home and remind you why it is that you belong with me.” You pull him close for a hard kiss and grin.

“Deal, caveman. So what do you want to do now?” He wrinkles his nose in contemplation, straightens up the top half of your dress.

“I think I want to go home and tear this off of you as previously mentioned,” he says; you bite your lip and nod. “What do you want to do?”

That’s a loaded question, but at the moment, only one thing really comes to mind.

“Fuck me wearing these clothes again; I don’t care where or how, you can surprise me.”

Aaron is, unsurprisingly, on board with that plan; you slip off of him, smooth out your dress, and he pulls his pants up—they are still very wet from your first orgasm, and you rub the spot with the edge of your dress to no avail.

“Don’t get pulled over, Agent,” you joke, because that would be both very hard and very easy to explain, and he groans like you’ve just done something very sexy.

“Love it when you call me Agent,” he says, pulling you in for a kiss, and you plan some super hot roleplay for later and hop out of the car so you can climb into the front seat like the fully-functioning, non-horny adult that you are.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[alrightberries]

our sorry little hearts

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x fem!reader

❈ genre: angst. ❈ word count: 1.6k

❈ summary: Levi hasn’t seen your traitorous Eldian face in years.

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. war. mentions of blood, death, and violence.

a/n: you’ve heard of enemies to lovers, now get ready for... lovers to enemies. this takes place during the liberio invasion aka S4 E6. based on a love like war by all time low.

(also don’t tell anyone but this is me lowkey warming up after not writing for so long)

There’s something oddly nostalgic about seeing you again on the battlefield.

Levi recognizes your usual battle stance; feet a shoulder’s width apart and hands tightly clutching the handles of your sheathed blades. You’re wearing the scouting regiment’s outdated white uniform, green cape hiding the leather straps your missing brown jacket usually would. He’s not surprised you’re not wearing your wings of freedom jacket, though; he was, after all, the one who sliced it in half during your escape with Zeke on the Cart Titan’s back. He hasn’t seen it, but he’s positive that a long scar runs down the length of your spine.

“Levi,” he hears you murmur, and he pretends that his heart doesn’t ache after hearing his name slip from your lips for the first time in four years. “I—... Levi,”

He feels his chest tighten. You still look as beautiful as he remembers you to be, and the fact that you still take his breath away is something he hates. It’s been a long while since he last stood on a battlefield with you. Only this time, there were no trees to swing from or titans to kill; no reassuring squeezes on the shoulder or cheeky kisses when no one was looking; no small smiles or stolen glances across the field as your horses galloped through Titan Country. No— this time, you wore different colors and fought on opposing sides.

“Levi, talk to me,” your tone is airy, said in what seemed to be a mixture of built up anticipation and disbelief. But there was something in your voice— something he couldn’t quite place. Was it relief? Longing, perhaps? Maybe even regret. But Levi pushes those thoughts aside in favor of gritting his teeth and giving his traitorous wife a stone cold stare. “Levi, talk to me, please.”

He refuses to reply. His hands are shaking from how hard he was gripping the handles of his blades, and he swears his heart was going to burst out of his untrimmed chest from how loudly it beat at his ribcage. There are about a million and one emotions swirling around his head— betrayal. anger. sadness. melancholy.

And he doesn’t know which one takes over him when he charges at you full speed.

There’s a grunt followed by the sound of metal clashing against metal, and Levi’s not surprised to see that your reflexes are still as sharp as they were before. His own cape whips in the wind when he turns to land another strike. But then he hears sound of your hooks digging into bricks, and he’s quick to take your little fight to the air in pursuit of you.

He knows he has to be at the plaza to save Eren’s ass but he also knows that he had at least seven minutes before he had to go. He’ll make this quick.

“Levi,” he hears you call out. You’ve led him further away from the plaza— maybe intentionally or unintentionally, he doesn’t know— and he’s only now realizing that you both stood on the side of a building, the hooks on your gears the only thing keeping you up. “My love—-”

“—don’t call me that,” his heart twitches and he sneers. It’s the first thing he’s said to you in years and god did you miss his voice, miss him in general. “Don’t you fucking dare call me that,”

“Levi,” you breathe, but the deep growl that escapes his lips is enough for your words to die in your throat.

“Stop,” he says. “You’ve lost the right to speak my name; you’ve lost the right to wear that cape,” his eyes land on the silver chain you wore around your neck, a gold ring hanging in the middle. It matched the one he had back home, the one he secretly held at night and kissed sorrowfully when he felt like breaking down. His voice is quieter, almost pained as he speaks, “you’ve lost the right to wear that ring. You’ve lost the right to even look me in the eye after what you’ve done.”

His words sting and your throat tightens when you once again remember the look of pure and utter betrayal in his eyes when you confessed you were a spy on behalf of the Marleyan government. The way he froze, hoping you were lying; yet the tears running down your cheeks and the apologies that slipped from your lips as you got down on your knees and begged him for forgiveness left no room for contest.

“Levi, we don’t have to fight, please just hear me out. I’m still the wife you loved—-“

“No,” he cuts you off. “My wife is gone. She died in the battle for Shiganshina.” your lip quivers, and he continues to speak. “You? You’re an enemy. You’re as good as dead to me.”

Your words once again die on your tongue when he charges at you, and you just barely manage to leap away. The edge of his blade scrapes against your thigh, and blood paints your trousers red when your feet land on the cobblestone streets.

Every attempt you make after, any attempts at conversation is silenced with a swift swing of Levi’s blades, almost as if he were seeking catharsis through violence.

You grit your teeth. “You’re never going to listen to me, are you?”

His silence and steely glare is all the answer you need, and you sigh. Your stance shifts, and the grip on your blades changes; you were finally taking an offensive stance, Levi notices. Blocking his blows wouldn’t be enough— you couldn’t reason with him no matter how hard you tried, and you couldn’t win with just defense. You had to outsmart him; you had to win. You had to.

“I’m sorry, levi, but losing isn’t an option for me. Not this time,” you murmur.

You didn’t want to fight him, he could see it in your eyes. But you were fighting for something, for someone more important than him. Your eyes— the first things he fell in love with, the ones that were usually fiery and full of life— are soulless, almost solemn when he sees you run at him full speed, and Levi pushes down the hurt he felt at the thought of you loving another as he charges at you too.

A tear silently falls down your cheek. You loved levi, but you loved him more. You were fighting for him, and he was waiting for you back at home.

There’s a grey little building in the Liberio Intermittent Zone, somewhere between the gates and the plaza. The gunshots and explosions just barely reach the drab building, and the smoke rising into the air is the only thing visible to the naked eye of the chaos unfolding at the plaza.

A Marleyan soldier, donned in white and war medals, stands in front of an open window. She’s got binoculars in her hands, and she peeks through the eye piece to watch as two figures fight. Their capes create shadows of black where they flutter, and their silver blades gleam in the moonlight.

She smirks. Your negotiation failed, just like she said it would, and now you had no choice but to fight to the death.

Good, she thinks, that Eldian scum’s doing her end of the bargain.

She leans back and a satisfied hum leaves her lips. She turns to look at the little boy, no more than four years old, sat on the bed. The red Eldian arm band clasped around his arm brings a grimace to the soldier’s face. She can’t believe she got stuck with babysitting some lowlife scum.

“Is mommy doing well?” he asks timidly. He doesn’t even know that you were out there about to murder a man, but the kid was smart; he at least knew your job carried a heavy weight.

“For now,” she replies. The boy’s jet black hair bounces slightly as he nods, and his slanted eyes are downcast, staring at the floor. His silvery grey orbs dare not make contact with hers.

The boy looked almost nothing like you— if anything, she was sure he looked to be the spitting image of his unknown father. Strong genes, the father must’ve had.

She finds amusement in how tense the boy was around her; at least his whore of a mother had the decency to teach the kid his place in the world. He was worse than an Eldian, the lowest of the low— he was half Paradis demon. He should’ve never been born. They should’ve beaten you to death along with your unborn child like she’d suggested when you came back from Paradis knocked up.

“You can kill me, but spare my baby, please.” she remembers you begging. “I didn’t even know i was pregnant. Not even the father knows.”

Still, maybe it was a good choice to keep both you and the demon child alive. As much as she hated to admit it, you were a skilled soldier— one of the best they’ve ever had. Threatening your life meant nothing to you, but threatening your child’s? All they had to do was suggest it, and you’d follow their commands like an obedient dog chasing after a dangling treat.

“When���s mommy going to come home?” the boy suddenly asks.

“Soon,” she replies, eyes once again gazing through her binoculars. “If your mother does her job well, she’ll be back soon.” There’s a telephone beside the soldier, ready to make the call should you ever stop fighting. A sniper awaits her signal.

“If she doesn’t... well,” she laughs. The door to the small room you called home is locked, and the loaded gun hidden in the soldier’s pocket is a weight she’s familiar with. “Do you believe in god?”

“No,” the boy shakes his head. “Who’s that?”

“Tell you what, kid. if your mother fucks this up, i’ll personally see to it that you meet him soon enough.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link!

[thursday-writes-fanfics]

Choose, part 4. (Reader x Jack Sparrow or Will Turner. )

Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean, Will Turner, Jack Sparrow.

Warnings: None lmao

Words: 2.3 K

First - Former - Next

It's been a while since my last update, so here you go!

One year had passed since the faithed night in Tortuga, where Y/N left everything she once knew behind, to seek the truth she needed to find within. One eventful year where she had gone alone through more than most would in their lifetime. Travelling along with different crews, battling across the seas and polishing her hastily growing reputation as one of the most fearsome pirates the world has ever seen. None dared voice their annoyance with her being a woman, for she had allies all across the seven seas. She had seen so much of the world, her confidence grown and her heart set aflame with adventure. Y/N was an even finer pirate and woman than she had been ever before.

Other pirates either wished to be her or be with her, the secrets of many slipped into her ears. It amused the young woman, and the many who worked in the brothels along the coasts. When Y/N needed information, it was not other pirates or navy officials she sought out. No, it was the brothels’ gossip she tuned her ears to. For the women there knew far more of the world than any other. All news came to their homes and it was all available for the famous pirate.

She had earned an even better reputation with them as well, as she sought out the women there the first thing she did each time she came ashore. She treated them kindly, paid for their food and brought along gifts, treating them like friends. Her actions earned her a handsome reputation with the women, and in each town she could always find a loyal embrace to keep her safe. After all, the women of the brothels ruled the cities from the shadows. To anger one of them was to anger an underground nation.

Y/N’s locks had grown long since the night one year ago, her clothing expensive and proud on her frame. A treat she gave herself due to her wide success in both informal and formal businesses. She was a true pirate, yet could strike a bargain with the British navy without a problem. After all, they too were afraid of her.

The feather on her black hat curled down to her shoulder, its size another show of her wealth and power. The weaponry which clad her shape were the most efficient, on all the ships of the sea, not even the British army able to supply her better. Only the finest for herself, the woman had decided. Dual pistols she had strapped to each side of her chest, and upon both hips she held blades, one magnificent sabre and one deadly cutlass, all adorned with the most elaborate details. These were all weapons to show, the rest she had hidden in pockets and secret departments on her curves. Small explosives and hidden blades were better kept in subtle crevices than to be seen by the naked eye when one made deals. All about the fearsome pirate screamed confidence and to show respect, and that respect she had earned many times over.

“We’ll be docked in an hour, lass,” came the captain’s voice, the merry band she was travelling with now not as roughhousing as most of her fellow pirates. Mercenaries of the law they were during the day after all, and they weren’t too keen on going out during the night when there was ale to be drunk with stories to be told in old taverns. It was a life-altering change from how they had once been, when the captain and his crew had been young and adventurous. A smirk clad Y/N’s lips when she faced the man, her fingers fiddling with the sabre’s handle. “Aye, thought it was about time to dock, Captain Henry. And still I’m not sure if I will take my leave of you when we get there, or if I will meet the navy together with you in the morrow,” her deceptive nature made the captain laugh, for he knew just how little control anyone had over the young pirate. He joined her side with a few strides to the railing, gazing at the sea from the quarterdeck.

“Aye, ye do as ye wish, lassie,” mused the older man, finding his gaze once more sought out her face. “Yer not notorious for knowing every pirate for no reason. Can’t keep ye in place forever” he snickered, his mind on the many rumours he had heard over the past year of the pirate. He had seen it himself a few times too, how the famous Y/N had stepped off one ship only to board another in the same port. Her name was known by all, whether they liked her or not. Her presence on a ship could deter a dispute between two crews, for no one wanted her gone. And those who did were quick to find themselves cornered and silenced for good after voicing such atrocious thoughts aloud.

“Oh shut your gob, “ sneered the woman in reply, earning more laughter from the captain as his head fell back to let the thunderous noise wash over the ship. A simple “Never,” Henry retaliated, winning their argument as he strode to attend his crew and ensure the docking process would flow smoothly. Y/N watched the sea for a moment longer, trained on the horizon in an attempt to find a peculiar ship. One which carried black sails. Fingers carded through her hair as she thought about her old companions, but discarded the thoughts just as quickly. A turn of her heels and the woman came to face the incoming port, nothing she wished to see there either. A defeated smile curled her lips when she ventured to help her current crew, missing the hint of black that rounded a nearby island with a course for their port.

“ Alright, lads!” with easy leaps and muscles bunched for one last jump, Y/N climbed halfway up the crow's nest and gazed down at the many faces who all gave her their full attention.

“ I’m saying this just once because Henry doesn’t seem to be able to get it through your thick skulls. If we don’t get this cargo to the bay within the first few hours of us getting to port, the taverns will be full and the brothels closed,” the crew stared at the woman, most having just woken up from their midday nap. Too many faces were disinterested, the woman sneering maliciously as she knew exactly what would get them on their feet.

“Which means, no ale and no lovers!” Y/N roared, drawing enjoyment from the panic growing in the men’s eyes. They had been at sea for a month now, and the lot needed more than the icy waters could ever offer.

“So unless you wish to mope around the ship for the entire night, alone, get to it!” the crew leapt to their feet, their rushing steps and loud cries satisfying to Y/N’s ears. The pirate’s piercing eyes found the captain who let his chest heave with a sigh, not one to question the woman’s authority. She had gotten the crew off their asses with a single threat, when he had shouted at them all day to get ready. The ship groaned when they threw down the anchor, straining against it as it still wished to traverse further. A gangplank found its hold against the port, the cargo soon to cross over it. Both the captain and Alexandra oversaw the process, to ensure their goods would be gone by the hour.

“Ye know,” Captain Henry spoke after a long while, arms crossed over his broad chest. “Ye should consider becoming a captain one day,” Y/N snapped her head to face the man, eyes threatening to fall out. “Me? A captain?” she ridiculed, shocked by his words. The captain let a snicker pass his lips at her surprise, for being able to shock the immovable Y/N was quite amusing. Work roughened hand, tainted by the deep sea came to rest on his back, clasped together.

“Just sayin’. Ye’ve got the guts and respect for it,” with a smirk the captain passed his current crewmate, stepping onto the railing. “I will leave the rest to ye, for I am in need of a drink,” a wink was sent the woman’s way before Captain Henry made his way down the docks, disappearing without a trace. His back was followed by Y/N’s incredulous gaze.

“You fucking bastard,” Y/N shouted after him, her spiteful words only a show of affection to them both. With a shake of her head and a smirk on her lips growing when she heard the captain’s faraway laughter, the pirate got back to work. With an easy step, she leapt atop the railing, gazing at the crew working by her side.

“We’re making good time, lads! If you keep this up you’re probably going to be one of the first crews of the night to get to the pubs!” Y/N encouraged them. The merry men laughed and cheered whilst their work pace increased tenfold at the praise and promises of entertainment. Even the stand-in captain dared to laugh herself, unaware of how many eyes watched her joy from far out at sea.

It started with Ragetti looking through the captain’s spyglass, minding his own business as they had yet to start preparing to get docked. When turning his eye to the port city, he could tear his wandering gaze when it laid eyes on an extremely familiar figure. Too far away to make out entirely, yet the pirate was certain of who he saw. None he had ever encountered before looked and stood like their old acquaintance.

“Oh, would you look at that!” the pirate laughed, Pintel looking over at him with a raised brow. The spyglass fell from his eye, Ragetti free hand pointing to one of the largest ships docked in the nearing port.

“Y/N is aboard Henry the Savage’s boat!” the words he spoke carried over the deck, the silence that followed deafening, the group trying to comprehend what had just been said. A moment later and the crew rushed like a stampede for the two pirates who shrieked in fright at the threatening approach. The spyglass was taken from Ragetti’s hand and passed to them all to get a look for themselves.

“I can’t see ‘er!”

“Is it really Y/N the Courageous you saw?”

“Courageous? No! Her title is the Unbeatable!

“No, she’s Y/N the Ace of the Sea! The greatest pirate yet!”

The commotion on deck drew Will and Jack from the captain’s cabin, the crew’s loud and incoherent discussions about titles and names soon finding their ears. The former blacksmith was with the crew temporarily, as he had a job to be done with them before they ventured to Port Royal. Both captain and his companion froze in their steps when a well-known name echoed across the crew over and over. A shocked gaze was shared, but the two strode forth together for they could not believe in illusions just because a name was mentioned a few times.

“Right. What’s all this then?” came from the captain’s chest, the crew jumping at the sound of his voice. Jack Sparrow regarded them all with his hands propped on his hips, the loyal blacksmith at his side. Gibbs was the first to speak and took matters into hand, roughly pulling the spyglass from the nearest pirate’s. “It’s Y/N, Jack,” his words piqued further interest in the two newcomers, the two striding through the parting crew to the first mate.

“Y/N?” Will asked, unable to hide the hope that bubbled up in his voice at the mention of her name. The blue eyes grew clearer, not the wistful one’s the crew had come to be familiar with. Jack snatched the spyglass from Gibbs’ offered hand and turned to face the port. With his gaze, he followed the finger pointing at the supposedly familiar pirate. Jack froze upon seeing who they meant, eye narrowing when he stared her down. “No, it can’t be her,” the captain muttered, more to himself than anybody else.

“Far too curvy and longer hair. She didn’t look so cheerful to everyone all the time,” the jealousy and denial dripped from the captain’s tongue, the disbelief he held in his heart fading with each second.

“Can’t be her. No way, you’re all dreaming,” Jack continued before yelping as Will tore the spyglass from his hands, the force of it almost making the captain fall overboard. The blacksmith’s own gaze sought the port for the one they spoke of, his heart beating so quickly it drowned out all sound.

He too came to stand still once he found her form. She stood proud and tall upon Henry the Savage’s railing, her hand thrown out as she barked orders to the crewmates. And there on her lips was a grin, a grin that only the closest of her friends had seen before. Now as she shared it with the rest of the world, the former blacksmith’s blood boiled with jealousy.

“It’s her. There’s no way it’s not her,” Will snarled in reply to Jack’s incessant mumbling, handing the spyglass to Cotton. Will turned to the Black Pearl’s crew, and just like the woman on the other ship, began to bark orders. Where hers had been kind and joyous, he’s were angry and determined orders, none on the ship daring to stand in his way. The desperation in his anger was evident, and the fact that their own Captain Jack did nothing but mumble was a telltale sign that this was a serious matter. Otherwise, Will would have had a sword at his neck for even attempting to command the crew. Their efforts to hurry were doubled, when Jack regained his mind only to shout orders alongside his friend.

Oh, how oblivious the woman they had sought for was, for she heard none of the shouting on the nearing ship. For her well-beloved face was already being shown in one of her favourite taverns.

[pitch-pearl-void]

Danny claims Phantom is his boyfriend to save him from his parents’ operation table, but Jack and Maddie won't make it that easy for them

Phantom passed out beneath the electrifying force of a ghost net, frightened and angry and hurt, so when he woke up, the howl that had been trapped in his chest burst free. He screamed, using all the power he could force through his vocal cords. His ghostly wail. Panicked shouting erupted. Someone yelled about a sedative. Phantom yelled louder, fear making him desperate. 

If they knocked him out again before he had a chance to escape--

A warm body fell over him, chest to chest, core to heart. "Phantom, stop!"

The power Phantom had been channeling into his throat recoiled, cancelled itself out. His scream, absent of any real power, became that of a frightened teenager, and, embarrassingly, when he stopped screaming, it turned into a sob.

"It's okay," the human--Danny--said. He stroked warm fingers through Phantom's hair. "It's okay." Quieter then, whispered quickly into his ear, Danny added, "I have a plan."

Phantom's mind was too frazzled to make any sense of what that could mean, but if Danny was there...Phantom couldn't destroy whatever lab he was in without killing his friend in the process. Lashing out against the ones that had hurt him was no longer an option.

"Danny," Phantom gasped, his voice raw, slightly scratchy. Phantom turned his head until his cheek could press against Danny's, stealing a moment's guilty pleasure. To his surprise, Danny didn't pull away. 

In fact, he pressed closer and turned his head toward Phantom in return. Phantom felt Danny's lips brush against his cheek, and he was so startled he almost missed those lips moving as Danny urgently whispered, "Play along."

Phantom pried his eyes open. "What?"

Jack appeared above them. Phantom tensed as the man's hardened eyes met his. Those dark blue eyes softened as they slid to his son, however. "Okay, Danny." Jack clamped a large hand over Danny's shoulder. "You made your point."

Danny slowly lifted himself off Phantom. 

Phantom wanted to protest or at least wrap his arms around Danny to stop him--an impossible desire since there was something pinning his wrists to the examination table--but one look at Jack's wary face warned Phantom not to press his luck. Phantom reluctantly endured the loss of Danny's body heat and the comfort he had offered as a shield between Phantom and Danny's parents. 

Before he could feel too abandoned, however, Danny's hand grabbed Phantom's and squeezed. Phantom fought against the urge to widen his eyes.

"Play along" Danny had said. Danny wanted Phantom to follow his lead, and right now, that apparently meant...holding hands. 

To test that theory, Phantom spread his fingers apart. Danny's fingers slotted into the resulting gap and folded over the back of Phantom's hand. Phantom could feel his cheeks getting cold, and he desperately hoped he wasn't blushing in front of Danny's parents. 

"So that's it?" Danny asked, his tone somehow conveying wariness and hope at the same time. "You'll let him go?"

Maddie sighed. Phantom heard her footsteps, and he turned his head to watch her approach. He couldn't see her eyes since, unlike Jack, she had pulled her hood up, but the straight, thin line of her lips gave Phantom the impression she was unhappy about something. 

"With restrictions," she said. She pressed a button on the side of the table, and the force holding Phantom's wrists and ankles to the table vanished. He sat up quickly--too quickly for the ghost hunters because they flinched back--and scooted closer to Danny, holding tight to the human's hand. The hunters watched him, waiting, but when Phantom didn't move any farther or try to fly away, they exchanged frowns with each other. 

"Restrictions?" Danny asked.

In answer, Maddie held out a metal bracelet. Like the Fenton Thermos, the seems along the metal sheet were green, filled with ectoplasm that ran along the circular design. "To suppress his powers."

Phantom wrinkled his nose and glared at the device. Why she was handing it to Danny instead of clamping it over Phantom's wrist herself, prior to letting him go, Phantom didn't understand, but if they were expecting Danny to put that on him, they were in for a surprise. 

Indeed, Danny accepted the device but didn't clamp it to Phantom's wrist. "Can we go now?" he asked.

Maddie's lips pressed even tighter together. 

Jack wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "We'll be talking about this more in the morning, young man."

"Right." Danny stepped away from the table and tugged on Phantom's arm, urging him to follow. "Looking forward to it."

Phantom didn't trust his legs to support him, so, even though the ghost hunters were watching him with narrowed eyes and frowning lips, Phantom levitated off the table and floated after Danny. Danny was walking fast, faster than Phantom could fly at the moment, but Phantom had no complaints about the speed even though Danny was dragging him through the air. He glanced warily behind them. Jack and Maddie were still watching them...but they weren't following and they hadn't pulled out an antighost device. 

Danny trotted up the stairs, cutting off Phantom's view.

Just as well, Phantom thought, shivering. 

That he had woken up in one piece after the hunters who swore to tear him apart had finally captured him was surprise enough, but that they were letting him go? And in their son's company? With no supervision?

They were halfway through the living room when the question finally burst free of Phantom's control. "What did you tell them?"

Danny glanced at him over his shoulder, met Phantom's eyes, before jerking his head back around. His pace didn't slow. "I, uh...Once we get to my room. I can fill you in then." 

Although Phantom could no longer see Danny's face, the back of the human's neck and the tips of his ears had darkened to a suspicious pink color.

He's blushing, Phantom realized. He glanced down at their still clasped hands and felt his own blush, much colder and greener than the human variety, flood his cheeks. 

He stopped floating after Danny but didn't let go of his hand, forcing Danny to jerk to a halt. "Danny..." he said, voice low, "what did you tell them?"

Danny hunched his shoulders and ducked his head. Phantom floated around to his front, but Danny turned his head away. "I...they, uh, they were going to experiment on you, and I, um, I might have panicked. A little."

"Okay..." Phantom urged, speaking gently, "I'm not ungrateful, Danny. You probably saved my life! Well, afterlife. But how did you convince them to stop? They've been threatening to tear me apart pretty much since I arrived in your dimension." 

Danny glanced at Phantom from the corner of his eye. "Promise you uh..." Danny winced and pinched his eyes closed. "Promise you won't get mad?"

Phantom raised an eyebrow. "I promise."

Danny breathed in deeply. "Itoldthemweweredating."

As garbled as the words were, Phantom heard the last one all-too clearly. His levitation cancelled out and he dropped to the floor. As he had expected, his legs collapsed under him and he fell forward, into Danny. Danny let go of Phantom's hand and wrapped his arms around Phantom's shoulders, supporting him as Phantom clung to his shirt. 

"D-dating?" Phantom gasped. "We're dating?"

Had he missed something? Wasn't there a...process? He was sure kissing would have been involved at some point. A confession of feelings at the very least.

"No!" Danny said hurriedly. "Well...uh, kind of? My parents think we are so we have to pretend, but...it's just pretend. Don't freak out!"

"Oh." Did he sound too disappointed? Hopefully all Danny heard was his confusion and not Phantom's rising hope shattering on the floor. He shifted his feet, eager to pull away from Danny, but his legs weren't as steady as he would like. He managed to stand on his own only by virtue of holding onto Danny's shirt. "And they were okay with that?"

Danny wrinkled his nose. He started to pull his arms away, stopped, and settled them around Phantom's shoulders again as a loose hug. 

Phantom felt a swooping sensation in his stomach. 

"Not so much 'okay' as..." Danny bit his lip as he thought, trying to put Jack's and Maddie's reactions into words. "I don't know...They're letting me get away with it, but I think they might be testing us."

"Testing us?"

Danny removed one arm from his loose embrace and held up the cuff Maddie had given him between them. Phantom flinched back, almost pulling out of Danny's hug. 

Almost. 

Danny glared at the device, as distrustful as Phantom. "If you're still here tomorrow morning, with this suppressing your powers, then they'll know we're serious about being in a relationship. If you're not...they'll start hunting you again. And...I'm not sure I could stop them a second time."

Phantom shivered. He had been strapped to their examination table once already. If Danny hadn't been there...he didn't want to think about it. "Without my powers," he said slowly, "I will be helpless. I will have to trust you to keep me safe and them to keep their word."

Danny nodded unhappily. 

Phantom eyed the device. 

On one hand, he didn't trust the Fenton adults. They had never shown him an ounce of kindness or understanding. They had been willing to electrocute him into unconsciousness and strap him to a table without any consideration for him as a person. Who knew what else they had planned to do with him once he was in their clutches.

On the other hand...he wanted to earn their respect. He wanted to work with them to protect the town from ghosts, he wanted their help understanding his own powers, he wanted to no longer fear them. The cuff and Danny's offer represented a chance wherein things could get better if he just had the courage.

And...fake though it would be, the idea of dating Danny even for the sake of his safety appealed to him greatly. Just holding his hand had made Phantom's soul soar. What more would Danny allow to maintain the illusion of a relationship? 

Cuddling? 

Kissing?

Phantom's cheeks frosted and he quickly pushed the thought aside. Danny was only doing it to protect him. Phantom didn't want to take advantage of Danny's kindness, no matter how tempting. Bad enough he would be going into the fake relationship with secret feelings for Danny, he didn't need to make things worse for Danny by asking for a kiss in front of his parents.

Even if Phantom's daydreams of such a thing were deeply thrilling...

He couldn't pass up this chance. A chance to prove himself to the ghost hunters and date their son? At the same time? He had to take it. It was everything he wanted, what he had dreamed about every time he flew past Fenton Works.

Phantom sighed and reached for the cuff. 

Instead of handing it to him, Danny jerked it closer to his chest, his eyes wide. "Phantom?"

"The benefits outweigh the risks, don't you think?" Phantom whispered. "I can't pass up this chance." Instead of reaching for the cuff again, Phantom turned his hand over, holding out his palm. "Just keep me safe. I trust you."

Danny searched his expression, but Phantom's resolve was strong, held in place as much by his attraction to Danny as by his desire to be accepted by the Fentons. Danny's shoulders slumped. Reluctantly, he placed the cuff in Phantom's hand. 

"If anything happens to you because of this--" Danny began, only to cut himself off. He grimaced. "Phantom..."

Phantom glanced up from the cuff and smiled reassuringly at Danny. "I'll be fine. Just watch, by this time next week, you will actually be in love with me and your parents will declare me part of the family!"

Before Danny had a chance to respond, Phantom snapped the cuff shut. 

Pain exploded inside him. He screamed, falling to his knees. Danny dropped to the floor beside him, calling his name. He held onto Phantom's arms and stared anxiously at his face, beautiful blue eyes wide and frightened.

"I'm fine," Phantom gasped, staring into those eyes. "I'm fine. It's just. Rebound. I was. I was healing myself. The energy I was using started burning. But I'm fine. I'm fine."

So long as he didn't use his powers. 

Apparently, the cuff didn't so much suppress his powers as make using them painful. That was good, because if his or Danny's life was ever truly in danger, Phantom could still save them. 

It was bad because...it felt a little like a shock collar. 

Phantom cringed. Shivered. 

Before he could say anything else, Danny wrapped his arms around Phantom's neck and hugged him tight. Phantom froze for a moment, stunned. Danny had never hugged him before. Not like that.

We're supposed to be dating, he reminded himself. Hugging is part of the package.

Phantom's stomach swooped again. He slipped his own arms around Danny's waist before Danny could get any ideas about pulling away too soon and returned the tight embrace, turning his head so he could press his face against Danny's neck. It was a little awkward, what with the way they were both sitting on their knees, forced to lean forward to maintain the hug, but Phantom didn't think he could convince Danny to climb onto his lap just yet. 

For that matter, if Phantom tried climbing onto Danny's, the human might squeak and retreat in a flustered panic. 

 "You sure you're okay?" Danny whispered. 

"Yes." Phantom felt Danny shiver in his arms, likely due to Phantom's speaking the word against his neck, but Phantom couldn't bear to leave the warmth of his embrace yet. "I'll tell you more once you get to your room." He hesitated. "I can't heal or use more powers anymore, though. Can you..."

"Carry you?"

"Yes."

"Yeah." Danny broke the embrace but didn't go far. He shifted around Phantom until he was pressed against his side, one arm wrapping around his shoulders. "Lean back," he instructed. "I have to get your legs."

Phantom leaned backward, delighted to feel Danny's arm catching him, holding him. He untucked his legs from under himself, and as soon as his knees were in position, Danny slid his arm under them.

"Ready?" Danny asked. 

Phantom nodded.

It was strange to be lifted by someone else rather than by his own powers, but as Phantom found himself cradled in Danny's arms, held securely against his chest, he couldn't resist smiling. He had wondered what it would feel like. 

Danny climbed to his feet--an unsteady movement that prompted Phantom to wrap an arm around Danny's neck--and looked toward the staircase. "This might get a little awkward," he warned. 

Phantom laid his head on Danny's shoulder and let out a quiet breath. "Yeah," he agreed. The staircase was narrow, but Phantom suspected Danny's strength was about to be tested as well. "Take your time. No hurry here."

Danny snorted. "Right. You just rest, I'll do all the hard work."

"For once."

Danny laughed. "Who just saved your life?"

"My boyfriend."

Danny cleared his throat, a blush coloring his cheeks again. “Yeah. Right. I’ll just…” He walked toward the staircase, his eyes carefully avoiding Phantom’s. “I guess I should...get used to to being called that.” His blush worsened. “Your boyfriend. Oh man…”

“It was your idea,” Phantom reminded him mercilessly. He closed his eyes and tried to keep his smile from looking too besotted. He suspected he would regret the ruse later, once his feelings felt thoroughly played, but for now it was enough to feel Danny’s arms around him as he carried him up the stairs, safe and with the potential of turning the Fentons from enemies to allies within reach. 

[ptergwen]

on the dot

warnings: swearing, suggestive jokes, and the boys being a lil goofy

summary: the boys keep you entertained when tom is running late

a/n: this nasty stinky year ends today! finally y’all!! it sucked sm and a lot of stuff went wrong but i’ve enjoyed spending time with you lovely people, seriously you’ve all been such a light and i hope we bring it into 2021 :,) i love all of you tons, stay safe tonight and have fun <3

-

ten.

“he’s still not here?” you storm back into the room, looking between all the boys. “where the hell could he be?” harry only sips his drink. harrison stares up at the ceiling. sam offers a sad smile.

you thought by the time you finished your private freak out in the bathroom, tom would be home. home and ready for you to kiss and hug and welcome the new year with. he has ten more minutes to make it happen.

of course, you were disappointed he couldn’t be here for christmas. you still understood because it wasn’t his fault. there was scheduling and a whole bunch of other things keeping him in the states. you’d at least have new year’s eve together, and that was enough for you.

the universe had other plans. tom’s flight got delayed to the latest possible second, and it’s beyond either of your control now.

nine.

harrison puts a hand on your arm. “maybe he’s in the taxi. traffic and all that,” he leads you over to the couch, giving you a nudge to sit down. you do with crossed arms and pouted lips. “cheer up.” harry beams and sticks a party hat on your head. you’re not even bothering to strap it on. sam scoots closer to you in his spot.

“you have us,” he reminds you, smiling to get the message across. it’s nice of them to try and comfort you, but all you really want is tom. he’s the holland you’d rather be touching knees with. “thanks, guys. i just...” you let out a sigh. “tom was supposed to be my new year’s kiss.”

“well, we can’t help you with that,” harrison snickers and takes a seat on the arm of the couch. harry puts down his beer with a cheeky look. “tessa might be available.” groaning, you drop your head onto his shoulder. “shut up, i know it’s cheesy. we talked about it, though.”

tom better get here soon and back that up.

eight.

“what if you did it over, um, facetime?” sam suggests, stifling a laugh right after. these boys just can’t be serious. “i’m not making out with my phone in front of you guys,” you scoff and adjust your party hat that’s falling. “you’d do it if we left the room, then?” harry questions, harrison raising his eyebrows at you.

you lift your head off of harry so you can shoot him a glare. “no, you know what i mean. leave me alone.” your voice shakes on the last part. you’re starting to feel emotional about all of this. you wanted one night with your boyfriend who hasn’t been home in months, that was all. why couldn’t you get it?

the boys all coo at you in unison. it’s sort of sarcastically, mostly sympathetically. harrison reaches over and puts an arm around your shoulders. “he’ll be here, y/n/n. there’s still about...” he checks his watch on his other hand. his eyes go wide.

“seven minutes until midnight.” “jesus,” harry mutters to himself, picking his beer back up.

seven.

you’re debating whether or not you should text tom. maybe call? you haven’t heard from him in hours, which isn’t very promising. the boys are making too much noise to talk to him, actually. they’ve taken to blowing into their noisemakers to distract you.

the loud humming that comes from harrison’s is ear piercing. that’s partially because he’s holding it directly up to your ear. sam is using a handheld one, and harry is raising his fist in the air while he finishes off his drink. you love their spirit. you’ve run out of your own.

“come on, year’s almost over,” harrison says in an overly happy way. “let’s at least celebrate that.” “i’ll toast,” harry salutes him with his empty bottle. “you’re pissed, harry,” sam laughs and grabs it from him. you throw your head back on the cushion. “can time move any slower?”

six.

“i give up. i’m spending new year’s alone,” you throw your hands up in defeat. harry rolls his eyes in mock offense. “hey, you’ve had great company.” “she doesn’t want to hear it, div,” sam reaches behind you and flicks his brother’s head. it earns a quiet “ouch.” you’d normally laugh at their antics, only you don’t have it in you.

you might be acting a little dramatic, but you have the right to. tom’s kisses are everything. that, and you miss the hell out of him. he misses you ten times more. you know it because he’s made sure to tell you every day.

“tom’s coming, y/n. does it really matter if it’s a few minutes late?” harrison asks with a pat on your shoulder. “hours,” you correct him bitterly. he removes his hand before you break it. you turn to sam, who clenches his teeth. “your brother has terrible timing.” “you’ve only just figured that out?”

five.

harrison and sam have you playing some three way game of patty cake when the doorknob starts to move. you immediately snap your head up. is that...

“santa?” harry murmurs in his drunken state. “wrong holiday,” sam tells him. “that’s passed.” harrison chuckles at the conversation. “we should cut him off before-“

the door quickly swings open, a breathless but grinning tom behind it. “guess who?” he drops his bags and opens up his arms. your face lights up the most it has in too long. you run straight over to him. the boys watch on, waiting to say hi until after you two get time together.

“oh my god, you made it!” you giggle out, tom lifting you up by your waist. he secures his arms tightly around you and squeezes. “how’d you actually get here on time?” your voice is muffled by your face pressed into his shoulder. “i’ll always be here for you, angel,” tom assures you, shutting the door with his foot.

he kisses the top of your head. you can feel his lips curve into another smile. “in every way.” you put your arms around his neck, clasping your hands together. “you don’t understand how much i missed you.” you’re returning the smile. “i swear.”

“i promise, i missed you so much more.” he carefully sets you down and keeps his arms around your waist. the two of you exchange a look that says all the i love you’s you don’t currently have the time or privacy to.

“oi, where’s our big hello?” harry calls from the couch.

four.

you’re all squished onto the couch now. tom is sitting in your spot with you in his lap. the others strongly protested it, whining about how you’d go at it or worse. you ignored their complaints and happily took your place on tom’s thigh. your back is to him, so he has his chin on your shoulder to sneak glances at you.

“does anyone have a resolution?” harrison asks the group of you, eyes landing on his best friend. “me?” tom checks, tracing a finger up and down your side. “to take more breaks.” you like that one. you let him know by leaning into him more. “mine’s to move out,” harry remarks. his oldest brother gives him a warning look.

“all jokes. you two are adorable,” he gives you a thumbs up, shaking around his noisemaker again. “this is what i’ve left you with?” tom mumbles to you, fully aware the others can hear. you shake your head. “they terrorized me, tom.” sam is the one to interject.

“that’s rubbish. i cooked every meal you wanted, we-“ “they terrorized me,” you repeat, playfully this time. tom taps under your chin with two fingers. “mhm, sounds like it.”

three.

“do you think tessa would still do a kiss?” harrison asks harry, who cackles when he sees tom’s face. he has to blink a few times to process what was said. you smooth your thumb over the crease in his forehead.

“what did i tell you? they’re weird.” “they’re deranged,” tom leans into your touch. “i won’t let them near her.”

“i feel so... single,” harrison explains with a fake sniffle. he eyes the two of you. that makes tom pull you closer. “stay away from my girls.”

two.

“the moment we’ve been waiting for,” you move so you’re facing tom. “is about to happen.” you also happen to be straddling him so it’s possible. if the boys have anything to say, you won’t be listening. “our new year’s kiss,” he grins, his hands dropping down to your hips. “very big moment.”

one.

tom tilts his head up to you, running his tongue over his lower lip. your party hat is strapped on now. you move in closer until your noses are touching.

“missed this face,” he rasps and nudges your nose with his. “well, here it is,” you bring a hand up to the side of his neck. the boys are huddled in a circle with their party gear, so you have the couch to yourselves. harrison is getting ready to pop a bottle of champagne.

your not so perfect night ended up being better than any of you could’ve expected.

harrison checks his watch and waves a hand at everyone. “twelve, eleven,” he counts you in. “ten, nine, eight,” you all join, you turning your head to look at the others. tom peeks his head out from behind you. “seven, six,” harry eagerly holds out glasses for drinks. “five, four, three,” sam raises up his noisemaker.

“two, one! happy new year!” the champagne sprays everywhere while you turn back to tom.

you erupt in a big smile before he’s pulling you in. he finally presses his lips to yours, your arms going around his neck. it’s easy and soft and you fall right into your usual rhythm. his lips part for you, letting you deepen the kiss.

tom’s eyes are squeezed shut in focus, on you and how you taste like the same lip balm from all those months ago. one of his hands rests on your back to support you. you break away for all of two seconds to take a breath. you’re giggling, and so is tom. you connect your lips again without warning, tom still laughing into it.

“i love you so much,” you pull away to tell him quietly. tom tugs on the top of your party hat with a playful smirk. “i love you, y/n/n. happy new year, babe.” he gives you one more peck on the lips. you’re feeling generous and decide to return it, your kiss lingering a bit.

harry summons you two before it turns into another make out.

“drinks! we have drinks,” he holds his up for emphasis. harrison already poured yours, sam taking a sip of his own while they chat. you climb off of tom and offer him a hand. he gladly takes it, interlocking your fingers and getting up. the two of you walk over to the table hand in hand.

“thanks, bro. happy new year,” tom gives harrison a quick one armed hug and takes his drink. harrison hands you yours after. “thank you,” you take it and flash him a small smile. “for everything.” “anytime,” he pulls you in for a proper hug, tom hugging the twins.

you do the same, then the five of you sit at the table to drink and talk. when they get into a conversation about golf, tom eventually breaks off. he squeezes your knee to get your attention, which you raise a curious eyebrow at. he nods toward the couch.

“we’ll finish that later.”

[sakurology]

Summer School

Kōshi Sugawara x Milf!Reader

Warnings: lmaooo bitch this shit hurted I can’t even get into it just know that I don’t wish to be perceived and will not be taking questions at this time. This is also not based on a dream I had and I am completely okay and sane

WC: 2.2k

A/N: Part of the lovely Miki Mouse Whorehouse collab- @undermattsun I love you I’m sorry my appendix got in the way of having this in on time. If you haven’t read the rest of the best mf porn trope collab in the universe, check out the mlist here for more hot milfs in your area that can read to you. 💕 and also ty kwis @honey-makki for the banner because y’all almost didn’t get one... she’s the real hero of the story.

The silence in the room was deafening as you sat in front of his desk. The air was thick with tension, and your palms, though sweaty, felt ice cold. He was always jovial, except for in moments like these, moments where he commanded attention. Moments in which he was serious, an ever looming presence over all his students- over the entire school.

“I assume you know why we’re meeting, right?” he said, taking a seat at his own desk, piled high with papers and discarded paper coffee cups- you could also just barely make out... an ashtray? Maybe that was only for after hours- hours like these in which he probably stayed on the school grounds half the night grading term papers and exams- as he’s not one to bring work home with him. You remembered him mentioning that from the orientation. You remembered the gentle, kind, Sugawara-Sensei with a warm smile and soothing voice; but the man in front of you was sinister.

“Final grades?” You swallowed a lump of fear and anxiety.

“They’re not good,” he scoffed, rifling through papers on his desk to pull out one riddled with red marks.

“Something like this definitely means summer school....”

He wasn’t letting up at his icy demeanor.

“That’s- it’s not an option,” you sputtered.

“I agree,” he said. “I’ve heard about your summer plans, I wouldn’t hate for you to miss out, they really seem like fun…”

Your blood was boiling over at the condescension, but it felt ice cold as it ran through your veins thinking of what you stood to lose if you protested him.

“I’ll tell you what,” Sugawara began, rising from his desk chair and crossing over to the classroom blackboard. He started erasing the day’s earlier lessons, leaving murky white streaks across the board.

“I’ll give you a chance to raise the grade, extra credit of sorts- how does that sound?”

By now he had picked up a slender wooden pointer with a white plastic tip. You had already put forth so much effort into Summer vacation, there was no way summer school was written into the occasion. But you felt yourself suffocated by the offer, a nervous twisting starting to build up in your gut as he stared at you, twisting the pointer in his chalk dust coated hands. You begrudgingly nodded.

“Great- it’s an offer you won’t be able to refuse, I know you…”

You knew exactly what he meant.

He bought the pointer to your chin, gently lifting before tracing it down your neck and décolletage, emphasizing the curvature of your breasts as he rounded the chair to be behind you.

“Let’s start with getting this off, yeah?” His hands massaged at your shoulders, gently pulling the woolen cardigan off your body, gently exposing you to the cool air of his classroom. You shuddered in response to the drastic change of temperature. Your exposed shoulders revealed the straps to your camisole and bra, Suga snapped the straps of both against your skin, a wince forming on your face from the soft slapping pain.

“Such pretty skin,” he remarked lowering his head to your neck, lips barely grazing the surface before peppered light kisses along it.

“You smell so nice too- all of this just to meet me, huh?”

You fixed your mouth to say no, but couldn’t get anything out against his advances. instead a small moan rose through the air as his kisses turned to kitten licks and a soft sucking right beneath your ear.

Sugawara’s hands were warm and soft as they lost themselves underneath the fabric of your shirt and bra, leaving a rash of goosebumps in his wake that rose almost as quickly as the heat to your face and neck. He slowly took your nipples between his fingertips, twisting gently as you threw your head into his chest.

“That’s it, it feels good, doesn’t it?” You hummed in response.

You felt him press his body into your back, the presence of his half hardened cock becoming painfully apparent as it slid against you. Suga crossed back in front of you, hands positioned at the buckle of the belt that held his pants at his waist. He didn’t bother to undo the clasps of his suspenders, slipping them down his shoulders instead. Still exposed, your chest rose and fell at the sight of him. Your eyes were locked at his waist, his own eyes growing familiar with your gaze as he slid the khakis down his waist, stopping just above the knee and leaving his hard-on fully visible.

You can’t recall when or how the straps of your shirt and bra fell from your body, but your top half was completely exposed to him as he pushed the head of his cock between your breasts, the soft pink head sporting a prominent freckle akin to the beauty mark under his eye. His cock moved against your skin, gaining soft friction as you held your tits together around it. You couldn’t resist sticking out your tongue to lap tiny kitten licks as he thrust- a soft yet lewd chortle from your own lips offered a little more lubrication, the slick sounds of his dick against your skin now rising in the sticky air. The spit glistened against the supple skin of your breasts as your hands held them together, fingertips hovering just above your pert nipples as you continued to envelop his dick with them. You started to help him, moving the mounds of flesh against him in a matching rhythm.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” Sugawara hissed, speeding himself up. You could see the emergence of precum at the tip, tongue involuntary darting out to lick the salty fluid. His cock grew wetter, veins more prominent with each thrust against you. Your legs were presaging together in your seat, the thin panties you were wearing had started to become uncomfortably wet at this point, as you were so turned on at how turned on he was. In the back of your mind though, the heat on your skin translated to embarrassment, sickened by yourself for stooping to this level, disgusted by your need for perfection- how could you ever live with this?

No time to think about that now, though, not when he was looking down over you like this, cheeks pale pink, and strands of silver still king to his perspiring forehead. The feeling of his dick twitching against your tits weighed heavier than your pride at the moment, and you’d rather swallow several of his loads than grin and bear the stares of all those other bullshit PTA moms looking down on you- looking down on your kid. It was time to work for your bribe- just like the one you’d worked with Sugawara at the beginning of the year to get your son into his class.

Without warning, your son’s teacher thrust farther forward, pushing his dick past your lips- the signifier he was done using your tits to get off, and needed something more. You let go, moving your hand to the base of him, twisting your wrist upward as you opened your mouth wider and granted him full access.

“Very good- open up-ngh-, pretty thing,” He cooed through gritted teeth. “Want you to take this cock down your throat.”

His hands grasped the nape of your neck, pushing your head down further on his length. You gagged the first two or three passes- after all, it had been awhile since you had been adjusted to his size, or any man in general- being a single-mother does that to a person sometimes. But it took a few softer thrusts for your throat to ease up, and he was happy to oblige. He found you cute like this, so pliant with a mouth stuffed full of him. ‘Such a good mom,’ he thought, looking down to marvel at your face, nose buried in his pubes.

There was nothing more appealing to him than the idea of replacing your tight, wet throat with your even tighter pussy- than feeling the tip of his cock right at your cervix- the sensation of him filling you to the brim with his cum, and eventually seeing you swollen and round with his own child after a few months of making sure it stuck. Amazing thoughts- at least to him. But for now, he could wait; his mind telling him he’ll have all summer to wear you down since he has every intention of keeping you at his beck and call for the break, the looming thought of how much you owe him hanging over your head like the most perfect apple on a branch just out of reach.

Looking up at him from your seat like this fit that same illusion for you too. You shouldn’t feel this overpowering desire over the stiffness of your jaw and the burning of your throat- you shouldn’t enjoy the weight of his dick on your tongue, much less crave the feeling of him splitting you open. Yes these are all things you shouldn’t feel- but if it’s so wrong, why does it feel so right?

You popped your lips off of him for a second, gasping for air as strings of your saliva separated you from him. Your hand twisted at the base of his cock, pumping him with a tight grip. You could feel Sugawara shuddering under your touch, eyes meeting his to watch him stifle a moan by pulling his bottom lip through his teeth. He bought a soft hand to your cheek, stroking it lightly with the pad of his thumb before taking both hands to press your head back onto him- pushing as far down as he could fit- a harsh gag filling the room as his cock lodged itself in your throat.

His face was stained scarlet, nose scrunching and eyes creasing as he felt himself starting to slip, succumbing to his impending orgasm.

“Such a good-hhngh- such a good fucking mommy,” he said thrift gritted teeth, sending several hot ropes of cum sliding down your raw, and most likely bruised throat. You could barely hear the rest of his obscenities as he hit his high- your blood was already in your ears the moment you heard him say the word “mommy.” You couldn’t help but swallow every last drop, thinking of how much better it would’ve been if he did cum in your now drenched pussy. It was an invitation waiting for him, but your womb simply had to wait- a dull ache forming where you felt he should be.

You had several seconds to come back into reality, the fluorescence of classroom lights bringing you back to your surroundings of tinfoil planet dioramas and baking soda volcanoes among the rows of desks in front of you. You tried taking stock of how you got here in the first place, but your brain was liquefied in lust. Sugawara took a few moments to fix himself up, slicking his sweaty hair back as he readjusted his suspenders and rifled through the pockets of his pants. Pulling out a silver engraved cigarette case, pulling two out and placing one between his teeth. Handing you one, he pulled out his matching lighter, flicking it open to spark you up first. Almost as if nothing happened, he was the same, jovial, sweet Sensei that your 4th-grade son adored- the same kind, gentleman you entrusted your child to at orientation.

“Don’t tell the PTA,” he joked, a soft smile spreading across his still pink cheeks as he finished his drag, sitting back down in his chair.

“I won’t if you won’t,” you responded, rather breathlessly for having not done much work yourself.

You sat in silence for a beat or two, marveling at how he was able to turn himself on and off like this, at how he was able to continue on in the thick, sex stained air while filling out a gradebook.

“The final grade will remark as a pass,” he commented.

“I can’t give honor’s marks or it’ll look suspicious, so I’ll put in a couple extra credit points and just write it off as a book report or something.”

“Th-thank you, Sensei,” you uttered weakly, remembering just who Sugawara was- after all, he is your son’s teacher. As you stood, you picked up your purse and smoothed your skirt to leave. You slowly pulled the cardigan back over your sleeves, shuddering yet again at soft contact against your sensitive nerve endings, goosebumps still painting your body.

“You can call me Kōshi if you’d like- I’m not your teacher after all.”

“Thank you… Kōshi,” you corrected yourself.

He continued to work, not taking his eyes off the pile of papers in front of him, one by one, marking them up and down with red pen.

The click of your high heels sliced through the palpable silence as you began to leave the classroom. The voice inside of you screamed to hold your head high, not to look back, not to address him, not to crave him but that same voice fell down inside you, mind quelling its fear with a ‘you just have to tell him goodnight, it’s the polite thing to do.’

“Goodnight, Kōshi,” you called, twisting the knob of the door, pushing it halfway open before he stopped you.

“Oh, Y/N- please don’t forget to tell S/N to enjoy his summer vacation… you enjoy yours too.”

[mrs-march-ahs]

Reader Dominates James March

My first smut! I’m very happy with it, and as always, feedback is very appreciated!

Words- Nearly 4k.

Summary/Warnings- anal, butt plug, overstimulation, Daddy kink, female and male oral, riding, a bit of knife and blood.

Hope you enjoy :))

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

“I’m in charge tonight”.

James finishes putting files in his cabinet, smiling at what you said. You were standing in your boyfriend’s office, trying to sound sure of your words. Every time you proposed something new to do in the bedroom, James was almost always enthusiastic and willing to try new things. He was always up for new challenges, new ways to turn you on, and new ways to show his dominance. Whether it was spanking, handcuffs or edging, he was always up for it. Until now. The idea of tying him up and teasing him as much as he teases you on a regular basis, made you shiver. But whenever you brought it up, James would deny it. It wasn’t like he didn’t like the idea, but he simply didn’t believe you could do it.

With a few light touches and winks throughout the day, it was obvious that sex was on the table tonight. But as soon as those words left your lips, he smiled and slowly chuckled at your confidence.

“My little kitten wants to be dominant?” He locked his desk draws and walked over to you, slowly. He put his hands around your waist and got close to your face, so that you could feel his breath on you. He let out a long breath, not dropping his smirk, and you closed your eyes, feeling it on your face. He dragged his fingertips down your hips, outlining your curves.

“There’s a reason I call you kitten, not tiger”, He said quietly. He pulled you closer to him and placed a single kiss on your bare shoulder. His strong arms holding your waist paired with such a gentle gesture made your thighs and core tingle.

“No matter what Daddy does, kitten is wet and ready”, he said, his voice low and deep. You ignored how right he was, instead taking his arm and dragging him to the lift. He let out a laugh at your attempt to show control. As he stood behind you in the lift, you facing the doors, ready to leave the bedroom and be confident, his hands crept up to your behind and gentle cupped your ass. You slapped his hands away and kept a confident stance.

“My kitten is awfully feisty today-”, he said taking a step closer to you. You turn over your shoulder to look him deep in his black sparkling eyes.

“That’s Miss to you”, you say as you arrive at your level. You step forward and walk towards your joint bedroom, shaking your hips slightly, with your head held high. A smirk grows on James’ face and he takes a few second to admire you, before promptly following you. While you unlock your bedroom door, he stands behind you and whispers in your ear.

“You look irresistible, I simply cannot wait to see you out of that dress”. You ignore the comment and attempt to ignore how much his voice turns you on. On any other day, that remark would be enough to have you on your knees for him, but not today.

As soon as you both stepped inside your room and lock the door, you smash your lips into his. Your tongue immediately takes dominance and James pulls you by the hips closer to him. You ensure to not let James overpower the kiss, no matter how hard he tries. Despite his reservations earlier about being submissive to you, his hardening bulge pressed against your heat told you that he liked it. As his fingertips slide the spaghetti straps of your dress down your shoulders, you grab his wrists. You pull him towards the bed and rapidly take his blazer and ascot off. The condescending smile on his lips drives you mad, as he clearly can’t imagine begging for mercy to his tiny, innocent and cute girlfriend. But you vow to prove him wrong. You push his shirtless body on the bed and straddle him immediately. You reach to your nightstand and shuffle your hand around the first draw to find the handcuffs. As James’ hands wander to your lower back approaching your behind, you grab them and hold them to the top of the bed frame. Taking handcuffs out of the first drawer, you loop them over the bed frame.

“If you can’t keep your hands to yourself”.

You clasp the cuff around his wrist. Click.

“I’ll do it for you”.  Click around his other wrist.

James looks at you, his eyes furrowed slightly, intrigued by your next move. You stand up off the bed and bend down, to slide your secret box from under the bed. You leave it on the floor so James’ can’t see the naughty things you keep in there. He doesn’t know what’s coming.

You look him deep in the eye with a confident stare and slide the straps off your shoulders. You turn around and let the satin dress fall to the floor, left only in a bra, underwear and heels. You can almost feel James’ stare burning into your back, watching closely and you move your hips for him. You slide your bra straps down your shoulders and take your arms out of them and turn to face James. Snaking your arms to your back, you clip your bra and let it fall next to your dress. James’ eyes immediately avert towards your breasts. He wriggles in his position slightly, clearly aching to have his hands on you. You turn back around and smirk, knowing that you’re teasing him, only left with underwear and heels. You take your panties off and slide them down your legs, bending over slightly so he has a good view. When the panties hang around your ankles, you step out with one leg and bend the other leg behind you, to pick up the panties with your heel. You take them off your shoe and throw them in James’ direction. They land on the bed near his face and he breathes out as they land. He quickly clenches his jaw, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of almost moaning at you simply undressing in front of him.

You turn to look at him and put your hands on your boobs. You knead them gently, looking at him as you do so. You gasp slightly at your own cold touch and watch your nipples harden. You walk over close to the bed slowly, your hands never leaving your chest, and kneel on the bed. You kneel closer to your boyfriend, watching his eyes flip between your hands touching yourself and your face moaning gently. You pinch and rub your nipples, biting your lip and slightly shutting your eyes.

“Not enough of a show for you, baby?”, you say seductively and bend down to your box to grab some baby oil to cover your chest with, and tip it into your palm. James March was not a gentle nor loving man, and one of the only forms of aftercare he performed was showering with you, rubbing your sin away, and then laying you down and massaging you in a few drops of baby oil. It was his favourite activity, and it made his cock throb, having to watch you do it without him.

You purposely drip a little too much oil into your hand to ensure you will be glistening for him.

“Oops”, you say innocently, putting your hand above your chest and letting the oil drip down your collarbone to your bare breast, then putting both hands around your boobs and rubbing it in. His eyes pierce into your skin with jealousy and his hands fidget watching you. A busy man like him usually has a million different things going through his mind, but in this moment, the only thought bouncing around his head was how much he wishes it were his hands touching you.

You make sure to pay extra attention to your nipples, rubbing your fingers around them. Then, you take your oily hands and rub your thighs lightly with the left-over oil. Kneeling on the bed, you carefully bend down to the floor to look at your box of wonders, making sure that James has a clear view of your ass. You pick up your desired items and before getting back up on the bed properly, cheekily say to him, “Enjoying the view Daddy?”.

He sighs with his jaw clenched and you sit on your legs, your back and ass facing him. You look over your shoulder and see him nod slowly.

“When I ask Daddy a question, I expect an answer”, you say bluntly. Mirroring his own words to him on his first night of being submissive may be cruel, but God it was fun.

“Yes darling, Daddy’s enjoying the view”, he says quietly and lowly. You smile at his obedience and put some lube onto your finger, which from this position he can’t see, until your hand reaches behind you and slides into your ass with no hesitation. James gasps and exhales watching you, his fidgeting increasing. You slide a second finger in and throw you head back slightly. Though slightly uncomfortable, you secretly enjoyed anal. It was something you always loved but hadn’t done yet with James. But why tell him your kinks when you can show him?

You push your fingers in and out a few times, getting used to the stretch and then take them out. James tries to peek at what your hands are doing when they’re on your lap, rubbing lube on a metal butt plug with a pink heart gem. You look at James over your shoulder, biting your lip and reach around to push the plug into your ass. He watches your actions with his mouth open and eyebrows close together. When the plug goes in all the way, comfortably stretching your hole, you whimper.

James watches nervously, hoping that you will pay attention to him now, but instead of getting anywhere close to his aching bulge, you lay down beside to him, your feet near his tied-up hands. You spread your legs and throw one leg over his chest, showing him your bare, dripping pussy. One hand gropes your boob and the other slides down your stomach and down your thigh. James moans at the sight, his eyebrows now bending the other way, looking like a begging puppy. Your gentle fingertips trace back up your thigh and circle around your clit. You look at James’ begging eyes before putting two fingers on your clit and pushing down.

James’ breathing increases, watching you rub small circles on your swollen clit, butt plug visible in this position. You squeeze your boobs harder and moan; James’ pants looking like they’re about to rip open. You rub circles faster and take your hand off your tit and down to your ass, pushing the plug in deeper, making whimpers escape your lips and your already wet pussy drip even more. James’ eyes are glued to you as he watches you pleasure yourself, moan increasingly louder and rub and push increasingly faster. You throw your head back and struggle to keep your legs spread as you have your first orgasm of the night. Your body twitches as cum flows out of you. Your eyes quickly flicker at James to make sure he’s watching, and you see him breathing fast, tugging at his handcuffs, silently begging to be uncuffed. His dick throbbing in his pants as he bites his lip looking at you, covered in oil and sweat. You sit up and slowly slide a finger up your slit, collecting cum. James moans at the sight and you smile, aching to torture him more. You push your middle finger in your clenched soaking pussy and moan.

“God I’m so tight Daddy, I need to be stretched out”, you say to your whimpering partner. You take your finger out and look at it, covered in your cum and wetness.

“Please let Daddy help you”, he says looking at your finger, licking his bottom lip. “You wanna help me Daddy?”, you kneel closer to James as he furiously nods.

“My fingers are awfully dirty, clean them for me”. You say sternly and put your cum-covered finger and your pointer finger to his lips. He obediently opens his mouth and runs his tongue up and down your fingers, yearning to taste every last drop of your cum and your ass.

“Good Daddy”.  You unzip his pants and James sighs happily, finally expecting some release. You wriggle his trousers off and look at his sticky underwear.

“Daddy couldn’t help himself…looking at you release was…”. For the first time in, maybe ever, James March was lost for words. You smile at him and take his underwear off, his cock springing up, still rock hard. James gasps and tenses when you straddle him and push his dick against his stomach. You rub your wet pussy lips against his shaft and grind up and down a few times. Pornographic moans leave James’ mouth, as his throbbing and neglected cock finally gets touched. You put your hands on his shoulders and keep grinding on him, enjoying how hard teasing made him. Just as you’re about to stop grinding and sink down on his cock, James looks at you.

“I think Daddy has been teased enough”, James states slowly but sternly. “Now why don’t you hop on”, he suggests, pushing his hips up slightly, trying to enter you, your pussy firmly on his shaft, pushing it against his stomach. You clench your jaw, slightly angry and lean down close to James’ bitter face.

“I think Daddy forgot who’s in charge tonight”, you snap, raising your eyebrow at him. James sighs and rolls his eyes slightly, even now clearly not respecting the dominance you have over him. You slowly get off his lap and reach down to the floor and take out your favourite vibrator. Spreading your legs, you gently kneel close to him.

“I thought Daddy might like to stretch my soaking, tight pussy…”. You come closer to James blank face and say quietly, “But I can do it myself”. James’ expression immediately changes as you spread your legs further, getting ready to sink down on the vibrator.

“No no no… D-Daddy’s sorry”.

You stop moving right as your pussy rests on the top of the vibrator, ready to sink down at any moment. You look at James and raise your eyebrow.

“Let Daddy stretch you out… please”, he says. The please at the end quieter and softer than the rest.

“Why should I? Hm? When this will do the job too, and wont question my authority?”, you sternly say looking at James’ lips quiver, searching for things to say.

A pathetic “please” leaves his lips as he flicks between your serious expression and the vibrator touching your tight entrance, ready to fill you up.

“Beg for it” you call out.

James’ eyes widen and he makes a few indistinct noises before making coherent sentences.

“Please…I beg…Daddy needs to feel you”. You rest the vibrator down on the bed but don’t move your stance, indicating that he’s doing a good job, but needs to continue. James’ lips once again begin to quiver and search for the right thing to say.

“Please let Daddy make you feel good…allow me to serve you”, you smirk at his dirty words and straddle him like before, before you begin to grind down on his shaft once again. You rest your hands above his shoulders and lean your body closer to his, your mouth gently scraping his as you tease his dick. He looks you deep in the eyes as he groans before he quickly closes them and throws his head back. It takes you a few seconds to register that he was close before and grinding down on him brought him to his second orgasm of the night. Before he has a chance to fully come back down from his high, you slide his hard cock into your soaking pussy and sit up on him. Your hands return to your glowing breasts, which have soaked in all the oils from before and now are perkier and more beautiful than ever. You hold them as you begin to bounce on his cock. Messy moans and whimpers escape James’ lips as his overstimulated dick finally gets to stretch out your clenched, tight pussy. James’ hands hold onto the bed frame as he fights to keep his eyes open, so he can enjoy the sight of your boobs bouncing as you ride him. You shut your eyes tightly and moan louder with every bounce. James’ lets out harsh groans as he approaches close to yet another orgasm, his body twitching, and his hands clenched around the bed frame.

“Don’t cum until I tell you to”. James looks at you with his mouth open and short groans pouring out. If there’s one thing Mr March loved, it was telling you what to do. Nothing turned him on more than seeing you strain to hold your orgasm in until he gives you permission to release. Payback’s a bitch.

“You can cum once I do”, you say, jumping on his dick quicker, approaching your own high. James’ hips begin to thrust up to meet you as you forcefully drop down on his hard dick to speed up your impending orgasm. The second it arrives; you cry out and James’ releases in you. You continue hopping on James until his sexual groans turn into pained whimpers. You slide off him with a yelp and sit between his legs, watching him pant and try to catch his breath. You soft wrap your hand around his cock and put your face closer to it.

“Darling I promise…I can’t do anymore”, James begs as you stroke him gently. You pout dramatically as you put your other hand on his tummy and rub him lovingly.

“I was curious what it’s like to have a load down your throat”, you say innocently, looking at him. He’s received plenty of blowjobs in his life and you have given him a fair few, but always been hesitant about having him cum in your mouth. Knowing that this is a proposal he simply cannot refuse, you continue stroking his cock, and when he’s about to open his mouth to speak, you put yours around his tip and suckle. Instead of words, a small shaky exhale comes out of his lips. James loved to overstimulate you, so you knew exactly how tiring it is to be forced to cum multiple times back-to-back. You couldn’t help but feel a little bad for him, looking at his tired expression and sweaty body.

“Daddy can help you with that”, James finally replies, resting his head on the pillow and closing his eyes, body going completely lax to give in to your pleasure. You happily slide as much of him as you can in your mouth, gagging along the way. Slow breaths come out of your nose as you suck him up and down, going deeper every time, trying not to choke as you take him down your throat. You hallow your cheeks and look up at him, trying to remember all the singular things that make James go crazy, and combining them. You hold his balls in your hand and gently squeeze and play with them as you suck the soul out of him. Eventually when his softening dick gets harder, he twitches and releases his last load in your mouth, which you immediately swallow, avoiding the taste. Trembling whines come out of his mouth as you suck from the bottom to the top and get off his dick with a popping sound. You can’t help but stare and admire him as he breathes heavily, looking up at the ceiling. You lay on his chest and kiss his lips once, a kiss he doesn’t reciprocate, as he’s too busy trying to catch his breath to even notice the affectionate peck.

“Not fair that you got to cum four times and I only came twice”, you say quietly, cupping his cheek. He looks at you and smirks, relaxed and back to his usual but tired self.

“I could assist you with that”. His words take you by surprise and you smile and chuckle.

“You still have energy in you? Didn’t I suck the life out of you?”

“I’m dead, dear”, he laughs. “But yes you did. My only purpose in life, however, is to serve you, and I will do that no matter how tired I am”. The romantic turnout makes you smile as you kneel over his face and watch him shuffle his head to get comfortable. The sight of him below you reactivates your dominance and turns you on immensely. You run your fingers through his hair and hold his head down as you hover your pussy just out of his reach. As you look down at him and think exactly what to say, he reads your mind..

“Please let me have a taste, I beg”. The words cause a shiver on your whole body and a tingle that goes straight between your legs. You smile at his submissiveness and sit on his face, James’ lips getting straight to work sucking. His once tired and lax face and body now completely awake and focussed on ravishing your core.  His tongue dives between your folds and licks up and down repeatedly.

“You know what to do Daddy”, you manage to groan, between the tired moans and whimpers.

James puts his lips around your clit and sucks and spits like his life depended on it. You throw your head back and pull at his hair, pushing your pelvis as close to his mouth as possible. With one last powerful suckle you moan out as you release your last load of cum into his mouth. James sucks between your folds and laps up every last drop of what you make for him. You immediately after lay next to him and flop your arm over his sweaty chest.

James clears his throat which prompts you to look at him.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, darling?”, he says, tugging at his cuffs. You laugh before getting the key and uncuffing him, then throwing on his shirt and quickly taking out your plug, before laying back down. James sits at the edge of the bed and rubs his wrists a few times, before picking up his underwear. Straight away a grimace covers his face as he drops the cum covered underwear on the floor and stands up to put on some fresh ones. You look at the ceiling dreamily, as he comes towards the bed and straddles you. Your eyes meet, full of love and passion, before he shows the pocketknife in his hand. Before you have time to react, he slices your throat and leans down to kiss your forehead. As your breaths deteriorate, he looks at you lovingly and cups your bloody cheek.

Soon, your soul appears behind him and put your hand on his shoulder. He looks at you smiling and kisses your knuckles.

“I must have you by my side, for eternity”.

“Just admit that was hot and you wanna do it again”, you giggle.

James smiles before quickly frowning, looking at the scar on your neck. He traces it gently with his thumb and looks at you, with sorrow in his eyes.

“I apologise dearest, I should have thought of a better way”, you shake your head smiling. His eyebrows come together in confusion at your grin.

“We can wear matching ascots”, you say cuddling up to his chest. A warm smile creeps back up on James’ face and he puts his arms around you and kisses your temple.

“I love you, kitten”. James whispers.

 “It’s tiger”.

[louwhose]

Princess For a Day

AO3 A silly little idea I had about Zelda and Link swapping roles— but only for a day. It admittedly turned out more serious than it was meant to. Oops.

Green eyes peered at Link from above clasped hands.

“Please?”

He felt his face stiffening in a desperate attempt to maintain its expressionlessness. But what could he say contrary, really, with those eyes staring at him?

With the Princess begging him to?

Link sighed. “Alright. I’ll take your place as princess for a day.”

-

The Sword that Seals the Darkness.

For the grand purpose of the weapon, it looked relatively simple. In fact, the Royal Claymores that she often saw knights wield were considerably more ostentatious— and those were hardly for decoration, either.

But it was fitting, in a way, that it was simple. Enough detail to look elegant, but nothing more than to make it clear what it was, what its purpose was. And wasn’t it fitting, that much like the Hero, the Goddess would use something simple to complete her purposes?

Zelda smiled at the thought as she observed the weapon now in her grasp. The Sword and the Hero were easy to understand. If only her own power were as well.

A shuffling sound drew her attention, and she resheathed the sword as she looked towards the source.

Link.

A smile crept on her lips as she saw him wearing her prayer dress and all the golden accessories that went along with it. Zelda had known it would look good on him, but she hadn’t expected just how good it would look on him. Clinging to his chest, showing off all the muscles he had built up in his sword training. The flowing part hid everything from the waist downward until it stopped at his calves, where the sandal straps wrapping around his legs only accentuated the curve and solidness of those muscles. Of course, even the overall femininity of the outfit suited him, with a face like he had, so delicate. And his hair was down for once, which was nice.

And of course, as always, his eyes were the bluest shade of anything you could ever see or even imagine.

Wait. His eyes.

His eyes.

She could see his eyes so clearly because he was looking right back at her. Zelda shook herself back out of the trance she always seemed to go into whenever she looked into those eyes.

She felt her face heat up with a blush at being caught staring… well, not that he necessarily realized she was staring, but it had the same effect on her nonetheless. She glanced away with just enough time to see that he had also blushed and looked away from her.

“Does it look strange?” Link asked. “Wearing a dress even though I’m a man?”

“No!” Zelda exclaimed, turning to look back at him. Not that it was that difficult thing to do— she really did enjoy the sight. “It looks really really good on you, in fact. It is a little strange to see you wearing my dress… but in a good way.”

He looked up at her, then down again, embarrassedly rubbing the back of his neck, before muttering so quietly that she almost missed it. “How do you think I feel seeing you in that tunic?”

Zelda felt her ears burn at that, and she looked down as she fiddled with the edge of— indeed, the Champion’s Tunic.

If Link at all liked her the way she acknowledged only to herself that she liked him, then she couldn’t blame him for enjoying as well as being a little bit nervous about seeing her in his clothes. And now that she thought about it, it was thrilling in a way to know that she was wearing her crush’s tunic.

The sun crept in through the western-facing windows of the cathedral.

“Time for you to begin your prayers,” Zelda said surprisingly calmly. “Princess.”

“Watch over me as always,” Link responded respectfully as ever. “Hero.”

She turned so that she was at a ninety-degree angle from him, as he always did. Not that she could effectively keep her eyes open for threats the way he always did. Partially because she wasn’t trained to do so, but more because she couldn’t keep her eyes off of him, to his waist in the water, head bowed and hands clasped, softly and quite devotedly speaking the prayer that she usually did every single day.

Zelda had no idea how they had managed to get away with this. But the power would not come today, if only because it was not the actual princess saying the prayers for once. And it felt hopeless, watching over Link as he prayed for a power that would not come.

Is that how he felt every single day as he watched over her? The power had never come to her, either. Did he feel like it was pointless, hopeless that she kept praying. Maybe it might have felt more possible at the springs, but…

There was only one spring left to go to. And her birthday was quickly approaching. And if nothing happened there…

Well, the Princess certainly had a lot of worries. But at least for today, Zelda didn’t have to be a Princess for a day.

[mellowswriting]

Helping Hand

pairing || Din Djarin x fem!Reader

summary ||  The clasps on bras should not be so fucking difficult. It’s a good thing Mando doesn’t mind lending you a helping hand.

word count || 4,873

warnings || SMUT! p in v sex, kinda rough tbh, desperate Mando, cockwarming, a singular spank, love confessions bc I am soft for this man 

a/n || this was uh...something! I firmly believe that Mandalorians waste zero time once they find their person. Once they have them, they have them. No such thing as rushing to a Mandalorian, especially our TinCanMan. also, this gif destroys me

Main Masterlist  |  Join the taglist!

The second you saw the bra as you perused the marketplace, your face lit up. The fabric was rich in color and ridiculously soft and you knew the second you had your hands on it that you were buying it. It wasn’t too expensive, a few credits more than what you’d usually be willing to pay for clothes, but hey, you deserved to splurge every now and then. You practically bounced with excitement as you made your way back to the Crest where Mando and the little green kiddo you adored waited for your return. It was nice to get some time to yourself, time where you didn’t have to chase after a rambunctious kid or have to squeeze past Mando’s huge frame in the small spaces of the Crest, but what could you say?

You missed your boys. 

The ramp lowered as you drew closer and you smiled. Mando must have seen you approaching. The sight of him standing in the cockpit with the sleeping child cradled in his arm made your chest bloom with happiness. You paused on your way to set your bag on your bunk, distracted by the uncomfortable looking angle he held his arm at, and let out a quiet laugh. Mando’s silent tendencies left you to observe the way he held himself to discern how he was feeling, and after months of living with him, you could gauge him easily by the tilt of his helmet, the way he held his shoulders. You may not be fluent in Mando’a, but you were fluent in your Mandalorian. 

“He wakes up the second you lay him down, huh?” You asked, a teasing smile on your face. The sharp way he looked to you only confirmed your suspicion and you bit your lip to hold back another chuckle. “Here, let me.”

The child didn’t even stir when you fluidly slipped him from Mando’s arms and slowly settled him into the metallic cradle he slept in. Mando sighed loudly behind you, the sound roughed slightly by the modulator. “How are you so good at that?”

“It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” You turned and almost knocked back into the cradle at the proximity of the beskar-clad warrior, a mere few inches between your chests. Heat flared across your face. “It’s just, uh… just lotsa practice.” 

Mando hummed quietly and you instinctively looked to his shoulders and his hands, trying to gauge his mood. They were relaxed, the tension he always carried about him eased for the moment. Content, if you had to guess. It made you smile up at him, brighter than any sun in the galaxy. There weren't many times you saw him without that ready-to-action tension that plagued his surely sore muscles - almost always when the three of you were in the Crest, safe together as you hurtled through space. He turned just as quickly as he had approached you, stepping out of your space to set the coordinates to Nevarro, and you felt like you could finally exhale. 

Bag in hand, you practically stumbled into your bunk and pulled out the pretty bra you were so excited to put on - inky black, accentuated with intricately designed lace and a harness-like back. You pulled off your clothes quickly, stripping down entirely bare to slip into a soft pair of sleeping shorts. It would take a while to get back to Nevarro; you might as well be comfortable for it. The process of undressing while the Crest drew away from solid ground used to have you half naked and on the ground from the jostling, but thankfully you had grown proficient at balancing yourself through the rough takeoffs. 

A quiet sigh escaped you at the brush of the luxurious cloth against your bare skin, deft fingers latching the clasps at your back. It was a welcome change to the usual bras you wore. The straps were a bit too loose, allowing the cups to droop slightly from your breasts, and you fumbled to tighten them. It was just out of your grasp, your fingers grappling uselessly for the elusive adjuster as you huffed in annoyance.

“Need a hand?” Mando’s voice behind you made you startle almost comically and whirl around, one hand pressed against your chest where your heart was battering against your ribs. How in the hell did he always manage to move so silently? Heat bloomed up your neck and across your face unbiddenly. Sure, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you in some state of undress - living in such close quarters and the fact that Mando apparently never learned how to knock had him walking in on you often. But there was no denying the difference in you standing before him dressed practically in lingerie. 

“Uh, y-yeah, if you could?” You stuttered, internally groaning at your sudden inability to speak. The thick tension of the air could have choked you as you stared Mando down awkwardly until he twirled his finger, silently commanding you to turn around, and you could just die. “You just have to slide the, uh, adjuster up towards my shoulder.”

Mando said nothing and before you could move your hair out of his way, one gloved hand gathered it to settle over your shoulder and you had to tamp down on the shiver that tried to wriggle up your spine. He fiddled with the straps silently, leaving you to wrangle with your bordering on desperate need to climb the giant man behind you like a tree and lose yourself in the pleasures you could bring each other. 

You weren’t blind, nor were you stupid. Far from it, actually. Reading people was a gift you had possessed from a young age - one’s intent could easily be sussed by the specific light in their eyes, the slightest change in their tone, the barely-there shift in their body language. Mando may not speak often, you may not be able to watch for the arch of an eyebrow or the quirk of a lip, but you could still read him like a book. 

The fear of complication warred with your need. The child was a beacon of light in your life when you thought there could never be anything but swallowing darkness. He was a reminder of the little things that made everything else worth it - every coo, every small smile as he slept, every time he came running up to you or Mando on his little legs. Even when you were having to explain over and over again that no, he couldn’t eat the buttons off of the comlink, he brought you more joy than you could imagine. 

It didn’t help that every day spent flying through hyperspace left you growing closer to the Mandalorian. Even when there was nothing but silence between you, it was comfortable, companionable. The final straw? Mando slept in your presence. The first time it happened had been entirely accidental. He was exhausted after a strenuous bounty, one that ran far longer than they fought for, and the second the coordinates had been set, Mando collapsed into the pilot’s seat and promptly passed out. Knowing that he was comfortable enough to fall asleep without second thought, that he trusted you enough to be vulnerable like that around you...you never felt more like you belonged.

And Mando? When he woke several hours later, feeling far more well-rested than usual, he saw you curled up in the seat next to him with the child cradled in your lap as the blur of hyperspace reflected in your eyes. You had smiled at him, sleepy but bright nonetheless, and he had never been more grateful for the helmet that hid his face. You were too smart, too observant - you would be able to read the love on his face plain as day.

That little green womp rat and his beskar covered father saved you when you thought there was nothing left. The idea of losing that made you nauseous. The idea of how complete your little family would feel if you gave in made you tempted. 

It was complicated. 

A modulated grunt of frustration came from the man behind you as he couldn’t get a solid hold on that damn adjuster and you bit back a laugh. A Mandalorian, a warrior - bested by some plastic and fabric. Something fell to the ground, landed on the metal floor with two quiet thwaps, and before you could glance down to see what it was, warm bare fingers slid between the strap and your skin. This time there’s no stopping the almost violent shiver that racked your body, paired with an embarrassingly sharp exhale, and Maker your resolve was crumbling to pieces. 

“Tell me when.” Mando rumbled once his nimble fingers finally wrapped around the plastic, his modulator vibrating right in your ear in the most delicious way. The strap tightened slowly as his fingers slid up, the cup of the bra finally flush against your skin, and your voice was hoarse when you whispered ‘when’. 

Instead of simply reaching for the other strap, his warm palm made a lazy path across your skin, pausing for a breath between your shoulder blades before slipping under the thin fabric. He repeats the movement, tightening the strap until you clear your throat and manage to say in a stronger tone, “T-there is fine.” 

Mando hummed, his fingertips gliding over the soft skin of your shoulder and holy hell, his chest was practically pressed to your back and there was no way he wasn’t being a giant tease. “Just fine?”

“Perfect,” You corrected, your voice breathy, eyes threatening to flutter shut as that hand trailed over your shoulder to trace along the line of the cup of your bra. Goosebumps followed Mando’s touch, raised as your body’s desperate testament to the need that had vibrated through you. You just barely caught a glimpse of those tanned hands, hands you had seen a few times as he took care of the more delicate aspects of cleaning of his weapons, and you whispered, “You’re p-perfect.”

Mando gripped your hip suddenly, your soft flesh soft a beautiful contrast to his calloused hands, and it was the dip of his fingertips underneath the hem of your shorts that made you lean back into him fully, your head tilted back against his shoulder. A rumbled moan vibrated from his chest and into your back, felt all the way through his chestplate, as you “You want this, sweet girl?”

You nodded quickly. “H-how? How can we…”

“Leave it to me,” Mando murmured, preoccupied with the heat of your bare skin under his hands as he finally broke, finally explored the body of the woman he had fallen in love with in the months since his clan had expanded to three. “Just...tell me you want this. Please.”

Mando’s voice was rough and desperate even through the modulator and you nodded without a second thought. You knew you were in for it just from the way he pushed you further into your bunk to let the door slide shut behind him. No fanfare, no fuss. Mando was certain. He was going for what he wanted, and it lit a fire in you. 

You sat on the edge of the bed, your heart racing as Mando methodically unclasped his armor, his visor trained on you with each piece that came off - and it hit you. This was actually happening. 

Finally. 

You grinned up at the t-shaped visor of his helmet and pulled him closer by the hem of his duraweave pants, his grunt of approval stoking the flames of your need. He pulled his shirt off fluidly and your hands froze where they were trying to undo his pants as you admired the sight of so much bare skin. 

“So handsome,” You whispered before kissing just below his navel, smiling into his skin at the way his hand buried in your hair. Mando hummed under your gentle touch, under the trail of your tongue against his skin. It had been so long, too long since he had any form of gentle touch, you knew that. Touch starved, that was the term. 

You would fix that. 

You trailed your hand over his ribs, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake when your nails scratched him lightly. Finally having your hands on him had you almost giddy, your heart flying in your chest as you slowly kissed down his stomach to the tent in his pants, nerves and need warring in your belly. You wanted to learn every piece of your Mandalorian - his scars and their stories, where to kiss when you wanted to hear those intoxicating groans, his favorite places for you to bite and dig your nails into. You wanted to break him in the best possible way, destroy that headstrong restraint and discipline so he could destroy you in return. 

All it took was a teasing press of your tongue against the outline of his cock to make him snatch you up off of the bed with a firm hand at your jaw and you couldn’t help but smile. His helmet tilted slightly as he took you in, grinning at him like the cat that got the canary, eyes sparkling with excitement, and he gripped your shorts with his other hand hard enough to pop the hem. 

“Off.” Mando rumbled and you immediately shimmied out of them as quickly as you could with his hand still holding your face firmly. The second the fabric no longer hindered his access, he ran his hand over your ass, greedy fingers digging into the firm flesh of one cheek. “Such a good listener. Aren’t you, sweet girl?”

You pressed closer as you nodded, desperate to feel his body against yours, and your eyes fell closed at the warmth of the skin to skin contact of your chest against his. As much as you loved the bra you wore, you wanted to feel nothing between you. It was easy to slip off and Mando’s hand instantly left your jaw to trace along your breast. It amazed you how gentle he could be; those big hands capable of incapacitating, capable of killing, gently palming your skin and tweaking your nipple. A breathy chuckle met your ears and only then did you realize you were arching up into his touch. 

“I won’t be gentle.” Mando warned. 

You grinned, heat shuddering down your spine at the roughness of his tone. “Who says I want you to be?”

You were on your back before you could even blink, the impact against the bed pulling a gasp from you. Mando made an image painted by the gods: stood over you, chest heaving with each harsh breath, cock straining proudly against his pants. That was the last thing you saw before his hand slapped against the light control on the wall and the entire bunk plunged into darkness. 

A hand wrapped around your ankle and yanked you against a pair of firm thighs, forcing out a yelp that morphed into a low whine when your legs were spread wide. Without your vision to guide you, you had to rely on your hearing, your sense of touch, and the low clank of metal on metal and rustling of fabric had you confused until his warm, entirely naked body slid over yours and you heard the first tones of Mando’s voice - unmodulated, raw and low in your ear. 

“You need me, huh? You need this?” Mando growled, sliding down to grind his cock against you, and he grinned impishly at the desperation of your whimper, at the way you angled your hips to try to slide him inside of you. “Let me take what I want and I’ll give you what you need.” 

You could have cried out when he pulled back, could have begged him to stay and fuck you already, but the feeling of his lips latching onto your neck made your voice melt into unintelligible groans. You buried your hands in his hair, memorizing the soft way the curls fell through your fingers. The combination of his teeth and tongue were sure to leave a mark, one you would wear with pride for anyone to see. It was the first of many lovebites he left on your skin, trailed down your neck and over your chest and delivered between significantly gentler bites and licks to your breasts. Your hips moved entirely of their own volition, legs wrapped around his waist to rub against his stomach. 

Mando’s hands found your hips and pressed them down, pressing you flush to the bed hard enough that you knew you would have bruises, ones you would relish as long as they lasted. You had never felt more desperate to be touched, tension rocketing tighter and tighter in your core. 

“So needy, mesh’la.” Mando rumbled as he shoved you further up the bed. He delivered a sharp bite to your thigh and you jumped, a laugh bubbling up from your chest at the suddenness and the way he eased the mark with his tongue. You carded your fingers through his hair again and his chest rumbled, almost as if he were purring. Just as you were about to comment on it, tell him how cute it was that he reacted so beautifully to your touch, his tongue slid through your wet heat. 

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, the grip you had in his curls tightening harshly as you tried to roll your hips to grind against his face, but he pinned your hips with sure hands. Not to be hindered, you pressed your heels into his back and still managed tiny hitches and Mando chuckled at your determination. His tongue rolled over your clit, over and over until you were crying out at the sparks of pleasure radiating through your core.

His mouth left you for a split second, just long enough to slick his fingers with his spit, and his tongue descended back to your clit as two fingers rubbed tiny circles against your entrance. You were almost incoherent in your begging, your voice slurred, words cut off in the middle - and then two thick fingers slid into your cunt, his lips wrapped around your clit, and you thought your heart stopped with the intensity of it all. 

After what could have been an eternity or a mere half second, Mando pumped his fingers slowly and your entire world imploded around you. The groan that left your lover was exhilarating. He mumbled against you, something about the tightest fucking cunt he’s ever had, before his tongue went back to town, flicking over your clit as his fingers curled into that sweet spot deep inside you. Your back arched of its own volition, your entire body tensing as Mando rocketed you to your climax.

“Can’t wait anymore.” Was the only warning you got before he pulled away, leaving you to flutter around nothing, and a high whine left your throat as Mando leaned over you and yanked your thighs up to hook further over his hips. His lips fell to yours and you groaned at the taste of your arousal, your hand cupping his jaw and reveling in the scratch of his stubble against your skin. The heavy weight of his cock pressed against your thigh until he angled himself to press right against your entrance, and - 

“Wait!” You gasped and Mando froze entirely. You reached between you to grasp his cock, groaning at the thick girth that you knew would split you open beautifully. “Let me... let me make you feel good, too.” 

“Won’t last, mesh’la,” Mando growled, his forehead pressed to yours as he fucked into your hand despite his words. For just a moment you thought you had him, had gained some modicum of control as you stroked him with a firm hand, but he batted your hand away to pin above your head. “Need to bury my cock in your tight little cunt.”

“P-please! I need it, I need you to fuck me full.” You mewled so prettily for him and Mando broke. 

The sound that left him was pulled from his very core, an almost feral growl radiating from his chest and leaving you shuddering underneath him, ready to beg until he finally shoved his cock into you, but before you could get a sound out you were flipped you onto all fours. You tried to steady yourself, to press your weight into your hands so you could grind your ass back against him, but a rough hand shoved between your shoulder blades until your face and chest were flush against the blankets beneath you. 

“You want me to claim this cunt?” Mando breathed into your ear as he settled his chest against your back, gliding the head of his cock through your slit teasingly. A dark chuckle followed your pitiful whine. “Oh I think I will. Stuff you full of my cum so everyone knows who you belong to.”

Mando pulled back and steadied a hand at your hip, the other pulling your cheeks apart as he finally slid home. Inch after devastating inch filled your cunt, the familiar stretch on just the right side of painful. A sinful, wrecked groan came from behind you and despite yourself, despite being face down ass up for a warrior, you felt powerful. 

“S-so fucking tight,” Mando stuttered out as he gave a small push forward, pressing even further into your heat despite being buried to the hilt already, short, aborted thrusts as he tried to let you adjust to his girth. 

“Please, please, please,�� You huffed out with each exhale, and if you were in your right mind you might have been at least slightly embarrassed by the desperation of your begging, but you were aching for him to move. You clenched around him, reveling in the punched-out sound it drew from him, and finally, finally he drew back halfway to shove back into you sharply. 

Mando didn’t fuck you - the word ‘fuck’ wasn’t enought to encompass the way he drove into you over and over, shoved you further into the sheets with his teeth buried in your shoulder. You wanted to be destroyed, and Maker did he deliver, pressed against that sweet spot deep inside you and making your writhe beneath him. It took a moment to find your voice amongst the harsh thrusts, but the sound of you whimpering ‘Mando…’ over and over had your lover delivering a sharp swat to your ass before yanking you up by your hair and bracing your ass on his thighs, his pace unfaltering. 

“S-such a sweet little thing,” Mando stuttered, one hand holding you by your neck, keeping you flush against him, and the other sliding down to toy with your clit, those calloused fingers rubbing in tight circles until you pressed your head to his shoulder and wailed. “Sound so pretty for me.”

You wanted to tell him how good he felt stretching you out, how much you loved this, how much you loved him, but there was no speaking when his thrusts punched the very air from your lungs. So you buried your hand in his hair and tightened, rolling your hips into every push of his own. The sharp pull of his hair seemed to egg him on and his hand slid up from your throat to tilt your head and capture your lips with his. 

The angle was awkward, the kiss all teeth and tongue, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. Mando drank in your every moan, every whine, and sang out his own in response, poured them out in a never ending stream that left you washed out in pleasure and pride. You reduced him to this. The tight clench of your cunt around him left the strong warrior slashed down to his most base instincts, left him to bury himself in you over and over as if he couldn’t bear to hold back. 

Your begging was almost incoherent, words broken off halfway with each harsh thrust, but it all melted into one low cry when Mando toyed with your clit and ground against that sweet spot against you and you broke. The only thing that kept you upright was Mando’s strong grip on your body as your pleasure crested, sparked out all across your body and left you weak in the aftermath of ecstasy. Your hand fell loose in his hair, still tangled in his curls but just barely staying put. 

Mando laid you down almost sweetly, flipped your weak body around to lie on your back and settled between your thighs. He growled low in your ear when you hooked your ankles over his lower back and whined so prettily for him as he pushed himself deep into your cunt - right where he belonged. His thrusts were shorter, stunted in his relentless chase for release inside of your body, leaving you hanging in the precipice between pleasure and overstimulation. 

“Feel so good,” You whispered in his ear, gasping when he buried his face in your neck and latched onto your skin with rough presses of teeth and tongue. The pace of his thrusts stuttered when you clenched around him, urging him to let go.

“Where?” Mando grunted low into your skin, unable to find the words to finish his thoughts but you knew. You knew what he wanted, the desperate want you both shared.

“Inside!” You gasped out in a rough voice, almost desperate in tone, and locked your legs around his waist tighter, using the newfound leverage to meet each of his thrusts. “Please, please cum inside me.”

The choked off sound in your ear was downright addictive and paired with the airtight grip on your hips as he pressed flush against your body and flooded you with his release....well, you wouldn’t be able to live without it, without him. Mando collapsed, crushed you underneath his weight with his cock still nestled in your tight heat. Maker, he was heavy but you never felt safer. He panted in your ear, the ghost of each breath curling across your skin like a loving caress and you could feel the curve of his lips where he smiled against you, a smile you matched. 

Your fingers buried in his hair once more, scratching against his scalp in slow, gentle circles, and the delighted whimper he gave sounded like it came from anyone but the rough and tumble warrior who just railed you into oblivion. One of his hands writhed up between your chests to cup your breast, the gun-calloused skin of his palm a harsh contrast to the soft, unmarred skin of your chest. 

“Mando…” You chuckled in a tone of warning when those fingers tweaked your nipple, sending sparks echoing across your skin. 

“Din,” He grunted in your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth and worrying it with his tongue, only pulling back when you made a small noise of confusion. “Din Djarin. You should know the name of the man who claims you.”

Your heart stuttered, racing to match the pace of your thoughts. This...this was a huge deal for him, you knew that. Your arms tightened around him almost of their own volition as it hit you - this union meant as much to him as it did to you. 

Mando - Din was yours. 

You were his. 

“Cyare,” Din whispered at the small noise that left you, propping himself up on his elbows to hover over you despite not being able to see you. You followed his movements as best you could, not wanting to jostle around enough for his softening cock to slip from your body.  “Are you okay? Was...Was this not-”

“No! No, I...damn it,” You stumbled over your words in your rush to reassure him, reaching up to hesitantly place your hands on either side of his face, giving him plenty of time to stop you in case you crossed a line. He didn’t. Rough stubble met your fingers and you laughed wetly in disbelief. You couldn’t believe your luck. “I love you. I have from the start.”

Din’s breath caught in his throat and he pressed his face back into your neck as he returned the sentiment, his words muffled and cracking under the weight they carried. You giggled at the way his tongue met your neck, surely adding to the multitude of marks he already left there, but tilted your head back for more access nonetheless. He was right - he laid his claim on you, buried his seed as deep inside you as he could and left the imprint of his teeth across your skin for all to see. 

“A clan of three, right?” You said before kissing his temple, yours eyes slipping closed as your exhausted reared. 

“Yes, sweet girl. A clan of three.” Din rumbled. The vibration of his chest only lulled you further into slumber and the last thing you heard before the sleep overtook you was Din whispering, almost to himself, “My own little aliit.”