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#they are just so!!!!! bites into a pillow and tears it into a thousand pieces of feathers and linen
rileyclaw · 1 year
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I LOVE THEM !!!!!
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alloftheimaginesblog · 11 months
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Headcanons for Finnick Odair in the bedroom...
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Finnick holds a lot of trauma, repressed shame, anxiety, fear and worry around sex. Due to him being forced into prostitution by Snow after he won the games, sex became quite traumatic for him. He was trafficked and every day, the effects still haunt him.
He trusts you so he opens up to you about this, about these issues and my god, your heart breaks into one thousand little pieces.
He's open about it and has learned to talk about it and he tells you awful, horrid stories about his experiences. You cry with him, reaching out with kind hands to wipe his tears away and kiss him on the forehead.
"We don't have to, Finn... Not until you're ready and if you're never ready then that's okay. I want you to be comfortable and if you never want to have sex, that's okay but please just let me know. Tell me how you're feeling and what you're comfortable with."
He can't tell you how much he appreciates you saying that. The love, awe and admiration he has for you in that moment is overpowering.
He likes to kiss you and for a while, that's as far as he'll take things. He wants to go further, god, he wants you so bad but he's just not ready. You understand and you don't push.
When he is finally ready, my god... it's the best night of your life.
He's tentative at first, slow hands relearning skills he hadn't used in a long time but muscle memory exists and soon, he's confident and smirking.
He kisses you everywhere, head between your thighs with a skilled tongue. He grips your thighs as you lose control under his touch.
When he raises his head, he's smirking big and wide.
"You taste divine, gorgeous. Absolutely intoxicating."
He could spend hours between your thighs. He gets off on getting you off; he loves knowing how good he makes you feel, loves knowing that it's him that makes you feel this way.
He's a perfect mix of rough and gentle.
He doesn't overstep, if you're not comfortable with rougher sex, he'll keep it passionate but if you are comfortable with rough sex then get ready to wear his hand like a necklace.
He'll push your head into the pillows as he fucks you from behind, moans getting trapped in the sheets of the bed as he leaves red handprints on your ass.
He likes he tease you so denies you of orgasms until you're a screaming, sensitive, quivering mess.
He likes tying your hands up, using them to hold onto as he fucks you from behind, likes leaving you defenceless so that he can ravage you.
He'll leave love bites everywhere, he's possessive; he likes when other people know that you're his.
Breeding kink one hundred percent. He likes filling you with his cum, likes pushing it back inside you with his fingers and his tongue if it dribbles out of you.
He likes risky sex in public places; likes the excitement of the risk of someone seeing.
He gets jealous sometimes which results in hard, fast, possessive sex anywhere; against a wall, over a table, in a bathroom... anywhere.
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stevebabey · 2 months
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steve harrington but it's that jeff winger moment from community. if u have seen community, u will know... my first stobin-centric piece <3 tw for parental neglect and a prior act of self-harm. this is absolutely on the steve harrington has bad parents train <3
“Steven, this is ridiculous.”
Robin freezes in place. Her hand hovers over the remote she's just placed back down, her limbs locking up one by one at the sound of the voice at the door.
It is not a familiar voice. She knows who it is all the same.
She fights not to move, knowing the couch springs, old and rusted, threaten to reveal her hiding place, even if it is her house. Robin is very much allowed to be here. Expected, even.
But Steve? Steve is not.
It’s why there’s one Christine Harrington on the dingy porch steps.
It’s an unwelcome surprise — even after all the fuss of the 4th of July, a thousand police sirens, endless NDAs, and too much blood on his uniform, Steve’s parents hadn’t shown.
Out of town, Steve had said, his bashed in face making it impossible to read his expression. His eyes were haunted and misty but Robin couldn’t tell if it was from the horror of the night or… a loneliness far older.
So Robin had done the fussing. Had dragged him home with her, shooed away her rightfully nosy parents, and mended him up on her bathroom counter.
Steve had been silent, a little wide-eyed as she worked on each cut, each bruise — but with her gentle touch, he had been helpless to do anything but melt beneath it.
He’d called her Robbie for the first time that night. They’d fallen asleep with their hands intertwined, her arm hanging off the bed to reach out to him on her bedroom floor.
Robin still hasn’t met Steve’s parents, even though it’s been more than a couple months since that night.
She’s been to his house countless times too. She knows where the spare key is, if she ever loses her own copy, that is. Knows which stair squeaks on the way up to the second floor and how the lock on the downstairs bathroom gets jammed too easily.
She’s eaten the best grilled cheese of her life in their kitchen, sitting on the counter.
She’s laughed so hard she’s cried on their couch, getting the throw pillows wet with her happy tears.
She’s still never met Steve’s parents. Til right now.
Christine Harrington has her arms wrapped tight around her frame and Robin has no doubt that on her face is a frown that could make babies cry.
She can’t see her face though. Can only just see a glimpse of her tense body from where she sits. Steve blocks part of her view, his own tense frame in the doorway.
He’d answered the door instead of Robin only because he had the foresight to glance at the front window after the first rap at the door. It was late. Robin’s parents certainly wouldn’t knock at their own home and neither of them were expecting visitors.
The expensive car in the drive, a sore thumb along Robin’s street, had given away the identity of just who was knocking so late in the evening. So, Steve had opened it.
“Mom—”
“I mean utterly ridiculous.” Steve gets cut off without second thought, Christine continuing on as if she hasn’t heard him at all.
“Did you expect us to spend all evening chasing you around? Figuring out where you were tonight from the Carlton’s across the road?”
She’s got this snippy tone that Robin’s heard a thousand times from teachers. Patronising. Too cold for it to seem like a genuinely concerned parent.
“The Carlton’s?” Steve echoes, a bit meek. His shoulders have rolled forward, sinking down a bit and Robin can see his tight grip on the door. Still, she stays frozen, rooted to the couch.
“Yes, Steven.” Christine says his full name again, all bite. “Imagine the shame your father and I felt hearing that. Hearing who you had been associating with.”
“Don’t say that.” Steve grits out immediately, anger bleeding into his tone.
The muscles in his back ripple as he forces his shoulders back, as if he had remembered how to stand up straight at the mention of his friend.
Robin aches; at the reminder of the stark differences of their upbringings and at Steve’s unquestionable loyalty. She finally unfreezes, sitting up a little straighter and leaning forward more— ready to spring up from her seat.
She’s not sure what for exactly. She sorta really wants to go slam the door on Steve’s mom’s face and go back to being bundled up on the couch with him. The urge is strong enough to make her fingers twitch.
“Why are you here, Mom?”
There’s a strain to Steve’s question, even though he doesn’t falter in appearance. Robin can’t see his face either though. She hopes it’s got the bitchiest expression Steve can muster.
“Don’t be smart, Steven.” Christine reprimands coldly. “I know that we may have taken a larger absence than intended but that’s not any excuse to parade yourself around with the strays of this town.”
Strays. Robin feels the word pelt into her and burn into her skin, sinking all the way down. It feels like cold water has tipped down the back of her neck. An unwelcome pit forms in her stomach.
She had known, of course, the reputation of a family like the Harrington's. She hadn’t quite known the extent they would go to protect it. Policing your child's friends over a matter of image is absurd.
Somehow, Robin can see how Steve grows even tenser at his mom’s words— hackles raising like that on a dog. His knuckles turn white. But before he speaks, Christine is barreling on like she hasn’t just slandered every one of Steve’s new friends.
“And to leave the house in such a state?”
Robin hears her sigh heavily, as though this really is the biggest problem in her life — which she can’t fathom in the slightest.
There was nothing wrong with Steve’s house. No mess beyond the usual evidence that someone, you know, lived there.
“Mom, I—” Steve starts again.
“Well, I’m sure you have your reasons. You always do.” She says it so pointedly, like Steve was known for peddling lies to weasel his way out of trouble.
It’s so un-Steve it makes Robin blink hard, wondering if she had heard right.
Steve was honest. He owned his mistakes and he took things on the chin. It was something she had liked most about him in the beginning.
Back when it was all snark and Robin told herself she was never going to be his friend, in this universe or anything other. That even then, reluctant co-worker and nothing more, Steve was honest and decent to her always.
“Now, come on now.” Christine Harrington huffs out her demand. “Your father is waiting in the car and there no use winding him up more than you already have.”
Robin’s stomach turns at her words. It had been a topic of discussion between them, one night weeks ago, lips loosened by the dark. I feel like a dog to them, Steve had admitted quietly, his breath against her pillow and his warmth under her sheets. Like they just leave alone most of the time but expect me to perk up and come running the moment they call. I hate it.
“I’m not coming with you.”
The words stammer on their way out like he had forced them out— and Robin wants to sing she’s so proud of her best friend.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not coming with you.” Steve repeats himself, the words a little firmer this time. “I’m… I’m spending the night here, with my friend Robin.”
He trails off, the words weaker, losing steam. Robin rises to her feet, the tell-tale squeak of the couch springs letting Steve know she was still here. Still right behind him.
It makes him stand a little straighter.
“I— I’ll come home in the morning.”
Christine Harrington makes a little scoffing noise, a high pitched faux laugh as if Steve’s said something amusing.
“Tell me when did I raise such an ungrateful brat?” She muses meanly and Robin doesn’t miss the way Steve flinches lightly. “We give you free rein of the house, apt time by yourself, and yet when we request you to spend a single evening with us—”
“You’re not asking, you’re demanding.” Steve cuts in, his voice more heated now.
“Oh hush, Steven. You act as if we’re so awful.”
It’s all dismissal. Everything, every word, a dismissal.
“I just can’t win with you, can I?” Christine sighs again, disappointment dripping from the sound. “Either we’re not here enough or we’re here but you can’t find time to have dinner with your family. Which is it, Steven?”
In the doorway, Steve begins to bristle. Robin really, really wants to slam the door now — if only to stop this conversation that seems to keep cutting deeper and deeper into her best friend.
She steps closer to him, moving as silently as she can, and makes sure to stay out of sight as she places a hand gently on the small of his back.
He’s shaking, she realises.
Her heart twists painfully in her chest.
Then, deathly calm, Steve says, “Did you know in 7th grade, I lied and I told everyone in my class that I got appendicitis?”
Robin blinks at the change in subject, the strangeness of Steve’s comment. She does remember that, vaguely. A boy in the year above— it had been a wildfire rumour that had turned out to be true.
Or so she thought. Staring hard at the planes of Steve’s back, the pit in her stomach yawns with an anticipation of devastation. Her hand on his back curls up a bit.
“You and Dad were gone for the whole month to Washington. It was the first time you had ever gone for that long and you didn’t even tell me until the day before you left.”
“Steven—”
“I just wanted someone to worry about me.” He steamrolls on, tone too casual for the story he was telling. “And it worked."
A beat.
"But then Cassie Lange asked about the scar.”
Robin’s hand on Steve's back twists up tighter. She feels like she knows what’s coming— but wishes it to be not true.
She doesn’t want to think of Steve, little twelve year old Steve, doing all that he can for a scrap of attention he was supposed to be getting from his parents.
“And rather than admit I’d lied…” The words come out too tight. “I went and found your sewing scissors and I made one.”
There’s this icy bite to Steve’s voice, his shoulders tensed back up. Christine still hasn’t said anything.
“I hurt like a bitch but it was worth it. I got a card from every single person in my class.”
“You wanna see the scar?” He asks— then he’s moving, his hand rucking up his sweater and shirt and exposing the skin of his stomach. Christine makes a noise like a muffled gasp. Robin feels a bit sick. Steve drops his shirt.
“And I kept all of those cards I got —all 17 of them stashed them under my bed in a box that I still have til this day.” He exhales through his nose. “Because it was proof that, at some point, somebody actually gave a shit about me. Because you didn’t. You didn’t then and you don’t get to now.”
His words hang in the air. There’s a long stretch of silence where Steve stares down the woman on the porch— someone closer to a stranger than a friend.
“So, I will see you at home, tomorrow.”
And then he slams the door to Robin’s house shut with a finality that shakes the air. Robin tenses up at the loud noise. Steve doesn't move, just stays staring at the closed door.
Behind them both, one of the noisy pipes in the house makes a loud noise. It sounds worse than usual as it breaks the silence.
Outside, Robin hears the click of heels on the pavement as they quieten, moving further away.
The pit in her stomach tightens immeasurably, a faint bile taste in her mouth. She finally remembers to smooth out her hand, pressing it flat against Steven’s back— another reminder that she was there.
If he wanted to talk or he didn’t, she was there.
Suddenly Steve sighs, an exhale so large that he shrinks down a couple inches, his shoulders dropping. It sounds exhausted.
He finally turns away from the door, to Robin, and she can only hope her face conveys every ounce of love, of support, she feels within her chest.
“Steve…” She breathes softly.
He wasn’t crying but just the sound of his name, spoken so delicately, seems to inspire tears. Robin catches the tremble of his lip and moves without thought— throwing both her arms around his neck and wrestling him into a hug.
Steve goes easy, his arms snaking around her middle and holding her back so tightly it nearly makes her squeak. She doesn’t though— just lets him bury his face in her neck, taking these big shuddering breaths, these half-formed sobs that break her heart clean in half.
She doesn’t know how long they stand there. Car engines drone as they pass by the street. The streetlights seem to get brighter. Steve presses himself so close to her, as close as he can, and Robin hugs back just as tight. She gives him all the time he needs.
She wonders if there’s an indent of him on her when he finally pulls back — a Steve Harrington shaped outline imprinted on her soul. It feels like there is.
If she could trace it, she thinks, it would be whatever shape love takes.
“Thanks Robbie.” He croaks out. He’s started scrubbing furiously at his face and she can see the wet sheen of tears as he wipes them away.
Robin doesn’t move far, just unwinds her arms a bit and lets them fall back to her sides. There’s an ache between her brows from how long she’s been frowning in concern. Steve looks more disheveled than usual, his usually perfect hair looking flatter — but he looks lighter too, somehow.
“No need to thank me, dingus.” She says, voice soft. She faux punches his chest and then regrets it when his lips don’t even twitch upward. It’s weird to see Steve all undone.
Robin thinks back to that conversation and the callousness of Steve’s mom. Her uncaring tone, the use of his full name like an insult.
She thinks of what Steve had said.
“I’m sorry you felt—” The words get stuck in her throat which grows thicker as she thinks about it. About a self-made scar on Steve’s abdomen, made by a twelve year old boy who just wanted someone to worry.
“—That you felt like you had to do something like that to yourself. I’m sorry no one noticed what you really needed.”
Steve nods slowly, his eyes glazed with a far away look as he stares somewhere over Robin’s shoulder. He gives this little shrug, a little huff through his nose.
“It’s okay.” He says, voice a bit distant. “I mean, it’s not but… even if I hadn’t meant to tell you, I’m glad someone knows now.”
It takes another second before he finally seems to shake himself from his thoughts, turning to properly look at Robin. His eyes are red-rimmed and the tip of his nose is pink. Tell tale signs of tears.
“I’ve never told anyone that before.”
Robin swallows thickly and it takes effort to choke down the urge to cry.
“Well,” She starts. It comes out too high pitched and tight and she clears her throat. “Thank you for telling me.
Some kind of smile plays on Steve’s lips, as if he can tell that she’s fighting off her sniffling and it’s sorta funny to him. It is, a little.
Because instead of being embarrassed or feeling pitied, he feels… delightfully surprised to have her care so much. To be so upset on his behalf.
“Oh, c’mon Robbie,” He gives her that same faux-punch in the shoulder she did earlier and it actually succeeds in making her lips pull up at the edges. “None of that.”
“You’re such a dingus.” Robin says. It comes out a bit wobbly still. Sue her— she doesn’t have Steve’s insane ability to bounce from one emotion to another in a single second.
Steve grins. He wanders back to the couch and flops down onto it. Robin follows and when she sits down, it’s a fraction closer to him this time. He gives one last scrub of his face, wiping the last of his tears away.
She nudges him with her thigh. She has to check just one more time.
“You alright?”
Steve smiles, crooked in that way that lets her know it’s completely sincere. He reaches forward and presses unmute on the remote, the film they’re watching starting up again with a buzz.
Steve presses his thigh back against Robin’s and in the dim lighting of her living room, his eyes glitter with an emotion that threatens to make her want to cry once more.
“Course.” He says. “I got someone checking up on me now,”
Another pointed nudge of his thigh against hers. “I’m better than ever.”
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Hi can you write abt zdog x female reader where they are in the talking stage and recently made out but zdog slept with one of the other recoms and reader saw them and ran to her room crying till she fell asleep and after that she started ignoring zdog and zdog is confused abt why reader is ignoring her and asks her but ends up in an argument and they stop talking for a while but zdog surprises her with cute flowers from the forest and they go on a date and they confess their love for eachother and zdog is crying hard while apologizing and they end up dating and just all over eachother and the other recoms start to get annoyed cause you can’t say anything bad about one of them without the other saying something back. Please take your time with this and it’s ok if you don’t want to write it
  ��                        𝑭𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔
       A Z-Dog x Human!Female reader!!
Warning's: angst, reader crying her poor lil' eyes out, some arguing, Z teasing you and giving you cute lil' nicknames! Lyle getting his ass beaten.. (again,) and a vary happy in fluffy end,
synopsis: you had recently made out with Zdinarsk. But someone comes up to her, sporting her hickeys and bite marks. (Reader also has a avatar body.)
Note: this was fun to write! And I'm sorry if it may sound bad. I don't think I can do anything atm for a while, since I don't feel my best lol! Also I hope you have a great week love!!
Remembering what had happened earlier made your body tingle with excitement, remembering what her lips felt like against yours, or how she nipped and kissed at the nape of your neck. While having you bent over a desk, oh how you wish she didn't stop, or how you wished she did more than just that little make out session. Snapping out of your deep thoughts as you continued your conversation with her
"Ah, I'm sorry that your guy's mission failed." You adjusted your hoodie. You had gotten as a gift from Z-Dog since it was always cold in the building. It was also your favorite color "eh, shit happens princess." Princess was one of the meny nicknames she called you. Since she usually spoils you with something, but the nickname couldn't help but make you blush and look away, hearing someone walking closer too the both of you, it was Prager. "Hay Z." He spoke. She nodded her head at him, acknowledging his presence she looked back down at you, while you noticed the hickeys on his neck "ohh.. I see someone's been busy" you giggled softly. Prager smirked and earned a chuckle from him, "yeahh.. Z-Dog really did leave a few marks on me," wait.. what did he just say? It felt like your heart fell out of place, and shattered into a thousand pieces. "Heh, yeahh. That really was a fun night." She chuckled as she casually chewed on the gum in her mouth. "I..  I'm sorry. I have to go." You said softly, as the stinging pain of tears pricked at your eyes as you turned around and began to quickly walk away. Trying your hardest not to cry, as the sound of your shoes hitting the floor echoed."whats with her?" Prager asked, Z-Dog just srugged as she blu a bubble with her bubblegum.
          ...
                 ..
      With a loud slam! You had closed and locked your door. Before backing away and walking over to your bed.. as those hot tears poured from your innocent eyes. "I'm so stupid.." you muttered "I-I.. I shouldn't have.. you collapsed onto your bed, not even taking off your shoes, as you hugged a pillow tightly, hiding your face in it. As you sobbed your poor heart out. Outside your room. Only a quiet muffle of sobs could be heard..
     You had fallen asleep from crying so harshly, you didn't know how late it was untill someone knocked on your door. Waking you from your slumber, rubbing a eye with one of your hands, "mmh.. what time is it?" You muttered to yourself before sitting up and getting off the bed, you walked over to the door. Reaching out for the door knob, you unlocked it. And twisted the knob, opening it. It was Mansk "holy shit. You okay?" He asked as he saw you. Your hair was disheveled as your eyes where red and puffy, with your eyelashes sticking together. "Just peachy. What do you want Mansk?" You asked, your voice didn't seem to be as happy or excited anymore. And your eyes, they looked so sad, as your lips where pulled into a soft frown. "Oh, well- its time for dinner. And I didn't see you with Z-Dog, so I assumed you where in your room again." You only hummed in response before looking down "I.. I'm not hungry, so don't worry about me." You spoke, but before you gave him the chance to speak. You closed the door, and locked it again.
      ....
                ....
                         ...
     Its been two weeks now, since you've been avoiding her every time she'd try to confront you, you slipped away. Even had Mansk let you know when she was around or nearby. But this time? Yeah no he wasn't there. ...great. and so you hid away in your office, filling some paper work with your head down. Absorbing yourself in work to the point you didn't notice the knock at the door. She cleared her throat, which made you stop. Leaning back in your chair, you hoped to god it wasn't her.. anyone but her. "Kitty? Why have you been avoiding me?" Your heart dropped, it was her. Fuck, fuck fuckfuckfuck... you're screwed, so. Fucking. Screwed. "..." you turned your head away from her, not wanting to look at her face. "Please leave.." your voice was shaking, as tears started to prick your eyes. She ducked under and into the doorway as she walked into your office. She walked behind you and placed her hands on either side of your desk. Caging you between the desk and her "tell me.. why have you been avoiding me doll?" She spoke right in your ear as she inched closer, her tail brushing up against your leg "I.. why.." she tilted her head in confusion "why what?" You sniffled softly "if you like him.. why do you spoil me? And flirt with me?" You muttered "baby.. its nothing like that." She spoke, those nicknames.. the same ones you'd always get so flustered over, glancing over at her big arms.. fuck, why was she so hot? Seeong her muscles flex as she edjusted her position, "then why did you kiss me? Did that not mean anything?.. d-did it not mean anything?" She pulled away "no, it did. Why are you bringing this up?-" "Because you fucked him!! That's why. Thats why I'm fucking, bringing it up!" You snapped. Slamming the flats of your palms against the wood in anger, before pulling away. Hot tears ran down your cheeks "oh kitty.." she murmured, "don't 'oh kitty' me. Just fucking leave." She didn't buge "LEAVE DAMNIT!!" you screamed at her, huffing quietly as she pulled away and walked away from your office ducking under the doorway before leaving. Once you where alone. More tears ran down your face before falling off your face
And that was a week ago.. you where in your avatar body, elbows deep in a truck. Oil and sweat covered your arms "fuckin' hell.. if this doesn't work. I'm gonna brake something." You uttered, you had been working on this damn vehicle for hours. Pulling your arms back. You grabbed a rag and wiped off at leat most of the oil on your arms. "Can't wait to take a cold shower. Fuck its hot" you heard chuckling behind you "yeah but. You look hot when you get a bit dirty." A familiar voice spoke, turning your head. You saw her, you then looked away and tried to act busy "oh. H-Hay, did you need anything?" You spoke as you pulled the hood of the car down. It making a click as it locked into place "kinda busy right now. S-So make it quick" you tried to sound calm. But you where far from it, you had to admit it. You really did miss her presence, "I actually have something for you. To apologize," you turned to face her, seeing her holding something behind her back. It crinkled like plastic. But you thought it was something squishy wrapped in plastic, she then revealed a large bouquet of flowers. Most of them where close or where the color of your favorite color. Damnit she really knew you "and your giving this to me. While I'm all dirtied up?" You scoffed jokingly. Z-Dog chuckled nervously "I also wanna make it up to you, I wanna take you on a date. 8:30 sound good to you?" You sighed softly. Reaching over to take the flowers from her. You had to be honest, they where really.. really pretty, a small smile grazed your lips, "I'll think about it. Meantime you should go, before I change my mind." She seemed a bit nervous but nodded "right! I'll see you at the bridge later." Before walking away,
     You had no idea why you where doing this, as you slipped on that pretty little dress she adored seeing you in.
           What if she was lying? As you styled your hair,
         Moving the lipstick across your lips, and put some mascara on those eyelashes of yours, that always made your eyes look so gentle in soft, and maybe adding a soft blush to your cheeks. As you stared at yourself in the mirror, turning around and leaving the bathroom, and your room. Locking the door, your heels clicked against the cold flooring as you made your way to the area you two would meet. It was 8:32 when you arrived. Just two minutes late, as you saw her tall form linger around the area. Her ears had perked as she turned her head to face you. Her tail suddenly started to twitch and swish from side to side. As ypu approached her. You noticed the blush dusting her cheeks, she leaned down, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. Her touch.. you forgot how it sent a pleasurable shock down your spine, "looking so pretty for me? You shouldn't have." She spoke softly as a smirk crossed her lips. You giggled softly, "so, where to?" She grabbed your hand and gently tugged you with her "thats a surprise. Just follow me." She spoke. You sighed as you playfully rolled your eyes. Following this 9ft tall woman. One that you had fallen oh so hard for..
                   ..you two had approached this room, but Zdinarsk turned to you "close your eyes. Do not peak, or you'll ruin the surprise." With compliance you closed your eyes "and whats so special about this room?" Hearing a door open as you were guided into the room, hearing the door close behind you "you're just gonna have to find out, Princeses" she teased as she gently tugged your arm in a direction as you followed her, feeling her hands on your shoulders gently push down. "Sit." And so you sat down. "Okay, you can open your eyes." You opened them, there where fairy lights hanging around the ceilings, and hung on some of the walls. You where sitting on a blanket, it was a deep crimson color. It was a makeshift picnic, there even was a basket and a bottle of wine in it, you couldn't tell what kind it was. But it was a shade of purple, your lips curved upwards as you noticed other small details. "Did- did you make this?" She chuckled at your response "yeahh.. but I had some help," she turned and walked away to pick up a speaker. Before walking back and sitting down, she then pressed a few buttons on it as romantic music started to play. Moving it near her. She looked back at you.. "do.. you like it?" You giggled softly "of course I do you dork!" Your giggles and laughter always made her heart melt. Especially that smile of yours, it did so meny things to her..
     ..minutes turned to hours as ypu two had drank the whole bottle of wine, you where beyond wasted, while she was just sober. "Hay.. can I say something?"
     "Well, I wanted to ask you somethin' as well cutie, but go ahead. " She teased,
Her head was on your lap, a hand gently rubbing at the skin on her face.. a deep blush had creeper up to your face and ears. Looking away, "actually.. no- I.. I changed my mind." Pulling your hand away as you moved your hands behind you, keeping you up as you looked up at the ceiling, she sat up. Hearing cloth rub against each other other than the faint music in the background was the only noice other than you two talking. She leaned close to you, staring you down with those predatory eyes of hers. "Try me." You scoffed as you looked up at her, her mask hug loosely around her neck. Lifting a hand up, you grabbed it. Raising it up to her mouth, making her take a breath. She then moved one of her hands over yours "no way. You'll.. make fun of me," grabbing your hand, she pulled it away, the mask falling back down. "No I won't. Promise" she moved closer, her eyes drifting down to your lips before looking back up at you.
"I.." you swallowed..
          "I uhm.." the words where hard to find.
            "I'M INLOVE WITH YOU!"
you yelled out as you closed your eyes tightly, you where afraid that she wouldn't except your confession.. that she'd be grossed out, or laugh at you.. tears pricking your eyes as she didn't respond. Untill.. you feel two of her fingers hook under your chin and pull you into a soft kiss. Her other hand snaking around your waist before pulling you onto her lap. Once she pulled away, you opened your eyes to look up at her. "I like you too.. my little princess" she teases as she leand down to press a kiss at your exposed neck. Hands roaming your sides, unexpectedly.. tears ran down your face, she pulled away as she heard you sniffling, tensing up as a worried expression covered her face, "whats wrong? Did I say something wrong?" You shook your head before leaping up and latching your arms around her neck "h-happy tears" was all you said before a chuckle came from her. Her chest rumbled against yours, "your so cute.." she whispered in your ear, as you felt her hands grab at your ass
..As the next day rolled around, nearly all of the recoms knew you and Z-Dog where a thing, and usually you wouldn't say anything to them if they just stared. But.. Lyle had to cat call you. JUST HAD TO. After calling him a perverted asshole. And a ugly ass 40 year old, you went to your girlfriend and told her what he did.. and let's say Lyle had more than just a black eye that day..
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maddoxsfm · 1 year
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      it    looks    like    maddox    hoffman    is    late    to    class    once    again   .   how    do    they    expect    to    get    their    degree    in    industrial    engineering    by    skipping    class   ?    it’s   a   wonder    that   the    twenty   -   three   year   old   made   it   to   their   senior   year   . . .   then   again   ,   i   heard   that   they    were   freewheeling   which   may   give   them   a   pass   with   professors   ,   but   they   are   also   headstrong   so   maybe   not   .   i   heard   they   were   blasting   lost    souls   by   baby    keem   and   brent   faiyaz   before   class   .   all   i   know   is   that   they   remind   me   of   a    pool   of   mischievousness   that   swallows   him   whole   ,   a   figure   on   display   as   a   shirt   hem   soaks   up   dripping   sweat   ,   pearls   of   white   that   go   in   for   the   kill   ,   &   tattoos   carved   in   defiance   .
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FULL    NAME    ,    maddox    aleksander    hoffman    .    NAME    MEANING    ,    good    fortune    ,    earth    ,    fire    .    NICKNAMES    ,    mads    ,    dex    .    BIRTH    DATE    ,    august    8th    .    AGE    ,    twenty-two    .    ZODIAC    SIGN    ,    libra    .    GENDER    ,    cis    man    .    PRONOUNS    ,    he    &    him    .    SEXUAL    ORIENTATION    ,    heterosexual    .    PLACE    OF    BIRTH    ,    san    jose    ,    california    ,    usa    .    CURRENT    RESIDENCE    ,    sandton    ,    colorado    ,    usa    .    LANGUAGES    SPOKEN    ,    english    &    german    .    OCCUPATION    ,    student    athlete    .    FACECLAIM    ,    kaden    hammond    .    
AESTHETICS    :    a    raving    voice    in    touch    with    disappointment    and    distaste    ,    you    bite    your    tongue    so    hard    blood    drips    from    your    chin    .    pillow    over    the    head    of    a    little    boy    that    shares    your    face    :    your    cold    words    will    cut    through    him    ‘    she’s    not    coming    home    ‘    and    tears    will    leak    from    hues    .    a    fire    that    roars    in    your    chest    . .    you    are    covered    in    burns    of    encouragement    :    keep    going    ,    give    it    all    you    got    .    half    a    heart    painted    in    marks    ———    call    them    war    scars    .    a    hand    that    never    lets    go    .    thousands    of    screams    muffling    an    ache    you    cannot    escape    .    lonely    eyes    a    facade    ,    you’ll    let    anyone    drown    in    you    without    regret    .    &    ashes    a    throne    at    your    feet    :    you’ll    rise    every    time    .
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--------------      𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘     .
EMOTIONAL   ABUSE   TW   .
      shattered    pieces    remnants    of    a    tainted    childhood    ,    a    crown    rewarded    in    disappearing    ink    ,    designer    brands    ,    a    weeping    that    never    stops    :    you    are    a    prisoner    more    than    you    are    a    son    ,    you    are    a    cage    to    be    ran    from    ,    and    you    are    a    boy    to    be    controlled    .    ❛    the    hoffman    twins    . . . .    the    future    of    sun    inc.    . .    the    adored    sons    of    the    influential    hendrix    and    gabriella    hoffman    .    ❜    porcelain    faces    that    did    not    match    the    cracks    of    adultery    ,    neglect    ,    desertion    ,    abuse    .    cracks    that    would    bleed    through    flesh    and    leave    scars    .    
❛    gabriella    and    hendrix    :    the    split    that    broke    our    hearts    .    ❜    divorce    is    not    a    crime    ———    a    back    turned    to    two    children    is    .    held    more    protection    towards    a    fabricated    image    than    her    own    blood    (    bags    packed    when    cheating    rumors   were    no    longer    redeemable    )    .    seven    years    before    you    and    your    brother    were    thrown    to    the    wolves    .    freedom    for    a    price    . . .    her    sons    .    you    were    left    in    the    cold    and    cruel    hands    of    your    father    . . .    you    were    a    hoffman    . . .    you    were    a    prisoner    .
a    shove    ,    a    push    :    you    and    a    twin    are    puppets    on    string    . . .    a    piece    in    his    game    .    the    hoffman    household    is    a    dictatorship    :    one    that    ruled    through    fear    ———    silent    violence    .    could    not    cry    wolf    :    pain    isn’t    real    if    it’s    not    visible    . .    but    you    knew    better    (    sticks    and    stones    will    break    your    bones    but    words   will    break    something    that    can    never    be    healed    )    . . . .    ❛    hit    me    .    hit    me    .    hit    me    .    ❜    a    plea    that    died    on    petals    but    burned    in    eyes    . .    you    father    is    fangs    and    claws    and    his    growl    hurts    just    as    much    as    his    bite    .
you    and    your    brother    are    two    halves    that    make    a    whole    .    unconditional    love    forgotten    in    parents    but    flooded    your    lungs    when    it    came    to    him    . . .    you    jump    :    he    jumps    .    together    a    way    of    life    . . .    a    pack    made    in    blood    ,    muffled    sobs    ,    a    never    ending    ache    ,    in    a    loneliness    conquered    with    them    at    your    side    .    the    hoffman    twins    are    extensions    of    one    another    ———    ❛    me    and    you    until    the    end    .    ❜    he    is    steady    ground    beneath    your    feet    . . .    something    to    fight    for    . .    to    live    for    .    
the    value    of    education    is    chains    on    wrists    .    shoes    will    be    filled    :    ❛    inheriting    the    business    :    it    was    what    you    two    were    born    for    .    ❜    private    tutors    ,    extra    lessons    ,    a’s    or    personal    items    destroyed    in    a    ❛    i    did    not    raise    dumb    sons    .    ❜    rage    . . .    when    your    heart    fell    in    the    hands    of    football    it    called    you    to    war    .    he’d    burn    everything    for    your    obedience    :    and    you    would    burn    yourself    in    the    name    of    disobedience    .    like    father    like    son    .
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--------------      𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘     .
    there’s    a    darkness    buried    in    brown    hues    . .    a    child    nurtured    with    hostility    ,    neglect    ,    and    abandonment    cages    a    heart    that’s    incapable    of    forgiving    and    capable    of    resentment    ,    grudges    ,    and    anger    .    the    wrongs    of    his    parents    have    marked    him    . . .    scarred    him    .    and    he’s    now    a    boy    who    has    no    experience    with    widespread    forgiveness    ,    who    has    never    offered    a    soul    who    wasn’t    his    twin    a    second    chance    (    as    forgiveness    wasn’t    a    practice    in    the    hoffman    household    ,    it    wasn’t    even    a    thought    )    .    he’s    a    boy    who    knows    anger    all    to    well    . . .    who’s    second    friend    was    resentment    that    introduced    him    to    spitefulness    .    he’s    a    boy    who    hides    feelings    with    charm    and    a    mask    and    holds    on    to    his    pain    as    a    reminder    to    never    forget    :    never    forgive    . .    he’s    a    boy    who    is    constantly    at    war    ———    who    has    been    in    denial    :    his    biggest    battle    has    not    been    with    his    father    but    with    himself    .
devine    like    structure    . .    petals    smirked    as    a    countenance    walks    hand    in    hand    with    confidence    that    borderlines    cockiness    :    a    trait    honed    in    spitefulness    nurtured    by    the    hands    of    a    father    who    spat    words    of    degradation    at    him    .    ❛    good    for    nothing    son    . .    you’ll    never    amount    to    anything    .    ❜    a    battered    child    who    was    knocked    down    every    time    he    stood    tall    ———    believing    in    himself    was    water    in    a    desert    :    his    only    chance    of    surviving    .
feet    that’ll    run    into    fire    every    single    time    and    come    out    alive    .    maddox    is    resilient    .    ambitious    .    determined    .    hoffman    bloodlust    running    through    his    veins    . . .    like    father    like    son    ,    maddox    conquers    no    matter    how    big    or    small    .    ❛    maddox    hoffman    ?    i    heard    he    has    a    nfl    contract    waiting    for    him    when    he    graduates    .    ❜    handouts    not    given    even    to    the    privilege    . . .    football    a    passion    that    presented    escape    and    in    the    same    breath    whispered    encouragement    to    push    back    in    his    ear    :    his    future    is    a    product    of    hard    effort    ,    the    withstanding    of    punishment    ,    broken    bones    but    never    a    broken    spirit    . . .    maddox    is    pure    talent    but    because    his    legs    never    stopped    chasing    his    dreams    no    matter    how    tired    they    were    . . .
an    intenseness    disguised    with    a    smile    that’s    rain    on    a    hot    summer    day    :    maddox    hoffman    is    a    taste    that’s    addicting    . . .    a    force    to    be    reckoned    with    .    his    name    occupies    fellow    classmates    mouths    in    envy    ,    adoration    ,    or    bitterness    .    his    skill    with    a    ball    putting    him    on    the    map    but    impulsive    behavior    and    a    rowdy    but    charming    demeanor    placing    a    spotlight    on    him    .    he’s    unattainable    :    but    a    light    that    hands    desperately    try    to    grasp    .
redeeming    quality    to    boisterous    presence    is    a    loyalty    that    knows    no    bounds    .    a    body    next    to    him    that    planted    their    feet    no    matter    the    cost    all    his    life    has    wired    a    lesson    into    his    head    :    there’s    no    love    like    loyalty    (    maddox    101    :    maddox    will    be    loyal    to    his    twin    above    all    )    .    a    person    that    everyone    knows    but    keeps    a    small    inner    circle    :    maddox    is    a    ride    or    die    . . .    a    hard    ,    and    fierce    ,    and    an    unforgiving    lover    .    he’s    the    one    that'll    jump    into    a    fight    without    a    second    thought    .    that’ll    crosses    all    lines    to    protect    the    ones    he    loves    . .    that’ll    stands    beside    you    in    your    darkest    hour    . . .    love    you    even    when    there’s    nothing    left    to    love    . .    maddox    functions    through    loyalty    and    while    it’s    not    something    that’s    earned    easily    ,    it’s    for    a    lifetime    once    you    do    . .
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--------------      𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒     .
pending   . .
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everafterkeiji · 3 years
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blind ft. sanzu haruchiyo
INCLUDES: mentions of drugs, angst, toxic relationship, guns, brawls, abuse, blood, near death
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"What does love taste like to you, Sanzu?"
"It tastes like sweet liquor on a summer night, darling."
It was hard to fall for a man who ever looked at you like a god when he was high in the heavens. Such distinct eyes that held so much to tell, composed of hundreds—maybe thousands of words he could've told you but the soberness limits his phrases to none. The moment he was off the clouds, the moment where the ringing bullets have gone deaf to his ears, you knew that he wasn't the man you fell for.
How could you? Joining in on one of the most criticized and feared gangs in Tokyo carrying a gun of your own taking away lives like they were taking away your boredom along with it so when you caught his attention, you were eternally doomed. Everything that you were bound to face was a path that headed to no direction that didn't have a trail of blood following you where you go.
But you grew blind to that decision whenever Sanzu had kissed your lips with the fantasy of what true love could've looked like. Blind when he laughs at your pain, calling you weak with a gun held to you just like always when you slipped up once at a mission. Blind to how he embraces you and shoot a bullet to someone's heart like he had acted to protect you from such a brutal sight.
But when light finally enters your eyes, you were claimed as traitor to Bonten when you couldn't handle the gravestones that held your name for their cause of deaths. You began to receive heavy punches, threats and the ever rumor that your lover was the one ordered to take you out before Mikey would find out about your mistakes so when you began to play around Sanzu's supply of meth while your body was covered in blood and wounds, you already accepted that you were soon to be grasped by death's hand.
Kicking the door wide open as the light enters the room along with your eyes flashing in the brightness of it but the shadow remained unknown to your dizzied state of eyesight. You could hear weighted footsteps on the concrete floor as well as the sound of a gun being reloaded but when Sanzu sees how it was no intruder, he began to tremble at your figure that leaned onto the wall, a hand to your stomach as blood began to coat your shirt with the condition of being indulged in saturated colors and lines thanks to the intake of his drugs to you.
He shakes his head, biting his lip as he frustratedly runs his shakey hands to his hair but snickers when he had kneeled to you, hands traveling to your body as your eyes threatened to flutter close.
"You took them, didn't you?" He asked, noticing how your hands were covered in white dust and the redness and unease in your pupils. "IDIOT!" He screamed, pointing his gun to you while you showed no sense to flinch at how usual it was for you to receive this type of treatment from him.
"You-you're never like this." He whispered out of sympathy. It was a fact—you were even pestered about it how your boyfriend was a known drug addict yet you stayed behind, neglecting to give into it but this was your last straw so you chose to end it by giving it one chance. "You hated to see me like that, right? So why the fuck are you doing this, Y/N!" He held onto your jaw, motioning it for you face his worried glance as your pants began to accelerate.
"Open your goddamn eyes and talk to me!" He ordered but what came from you was a cough, blood dripping down from your mouth as Sanzu wipes away the tear that escapes his eyes at how your chest was slowly loosing it's pace of breathing.
You weakly smiled, a sacrificial tug to your lips when your hand travels to his scars, caressing them while he stares at you frantic if you could even look at him properly, you were unaware to the dose you took nor how long you'll be stuck in a hazy dream but with how he looked in your ill eyes, you saw a glimpse of what could've been a relationship that wasn't surrounded by regret.
"You.. kept me around, cause I was.. fun, Sanzu." You muttered, chuckling lightly as your hand moves upward to go to his cheek. "And I.. kept you because I.. was in love with someone who.. was meant to kill me."
"I'm not going to kill you, Y/N." He grits through his teeth until you began to laugh as he felt how familiar it was to hear it now that it mirrors the same chaotic sound that he used to make.
"That's how Bonten works. Protect the king, forget the slaves, forget the knights—bullshit, Sanzu. You were meant for one purpose," You sat up, reaching for the gun that was previously held by him so you could point it to your heart with a kind smile directed to him and he panics at your finger on the trigger.
"And that was to kill, so do your job or I'd rather do it myself." You threatened with a laugh as you pushed the metal to your chest more while Sanzu has his hand to the crown of your hair and a memory haunts him.
"What does love look like to you, sweetheart?" He asked you, twirling a piece of your hair while you placed a sweet kiss to his scar.
"It looks like you, Haruchiyo."
Throwing the gun to the side as your expression drops, Sanzu pulls you for an embrace as your limp body fails to respond immediately so your hands remained at your side while he burries his head to your shoulder, letting a few tears pass through his eyes as he dreaded how you didn't smell like that fresh cologne of yours—you smelled a lot like his wrong doings: drenched in blood, drowning in drugs, and covered in regrets. So he spoke, returning to a tone in his voice you missed.
"My one purpose in life,"
"Y/N! Move, god, please!" Sanzu rushed to the crowd as he saw how a man directed his gun to you while your back was turned to him, dealing with another enemy as he hears the click of the gun leading the Bonten executive to shoot a bullet through the man's skull before they could kill you.
What he dreamt that night was the sight of your body dying in his arms and he hid his tears to the pillow knowing you were right beside him sleeping peacefully.
That was the same night where they had called you a traitor, not knowing how Sanzu was the man to mess up by killing a civilian out in public out of his wish to protect you.
"Is to love you, Y/N. So, come back to me, please?" He continued, gripping onto your body with a desperation to feel your warm skin on him again. "Please, darling."
You couldn't answer him yet he relaxed when your arms timidly circle around him, letting him know you acknowledged his words so he smiles.
"Just don't leave me yet, Y/N. "
TOKYO REV : @strawberrieas @kwrg @raya-sano @kimrena-stuff @heavensbeloved @rosewood1999
OVERALL: @stesphy @itsmeaudrieee
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raibebe · 2 years
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Kinktober Day 4: Collaring
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Genre: smut Words: 640 Prompt: sub Jeno x female reader
Warnings: collaring, puppy play, degradation, sex toys, masturbation
A/N: Another piece for Jeno, I just couldn't resist and @ncteaxhoe really wanted me to make pupJen cry... So here we are...
previous< | Kinktober | >next
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“Hold still,” you chastised Jeno who was basically vibrating out of his skin as you tried to close the delicate buckle of his collar. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, a sigh leaving his lips when he heard the familiar sound of the crab claw of the leash clicking into place. “Oh, I don’t think you are,” you growled, harshly pulling on the leash to have him bare his neck for you, “I think I need to remind you of the rules, pup.”
“I know the rules,” he pressed out, biting his lower lip to keep it from spreading into a smile. “Oh do you? Then tell me about them.” “I’m yours,” Jeno dutifully recited, “And you decide over my pleasure.” “Oh, so my dumb little mutt does remember,” you spat, “Knees. On the floor.”
If you didn’t need to keep up the dominant facade, you’d have giggled at how adorable Jeno was as he scrambled to collect his legs to all but jump from the bed so he could sit down on his haunches between your legs, his cock twitching in his lap, the tip shiny with precum.
“So tell me,” you started, spreading your legs to bare your core to Jeno, “Why did I come home to you humping your pillow if I get to decide about your pleasure?” “I woke up from a nap and you weren’t there,” he pouted, his eyes so dark they reflected the fairy lights in the room like a thousand little stars, “What was I supposed to do?” “You’re supposed to be a good puppy,” you sighed, slowly bringing one of your favorite vibrators to your core, not turning it on yet, just lazily dragging it through your folds, Jeno’s eyes following every move. “But you’re just a dumb little mutt with no self-control.” “I won’t do it again,” he promised, his hands curling and uncurling by his sides. He was itching to touch you, to please you. He knew he could do it better than that stupid toy. “I don’t know, pup. I think I need to teach you a little lesson.”
With that, you pressed the little button on your vibrator to turn it on, dragging it over your clit to make sparks of pleasure shoot up your spine. “My eyes are up here, dumb mutt,” you growled, using the leash to yank Jeno’s gaze away from your glistening core who only whined loudly, tears glazing over his eyes. “Crying will get you nowhere,” you promised, your voice more breathless than you would have liked but the vibrations felt so fucking good on your clit you couldn’t hold back your moans anymore. “Please…” Jeno begged, his eyes still glossy, his fingers digging into his own things to keep them to himself and you were sure if he had actual puppy ears, they would be pressed flat to his head.
“You sound so good when you beg, pup,” you moaned while you slowly wound the leather of his leash around your hand to force him closer to your core. As if he had no own will, Jeno easily let you pull him close, his tongue wetting his lips before he stretched it out in hopes of getting a taste of you. “No, no, no,” you clicked your tongue, “Only good puppies get to touch. Bad little pups have to watch me play with myself until I cum.” That made the tears in Jeno’s eyes finally fall, little droplets running down his face and making his long lashes cling together as a pathetic whimper clawed its way up his throat. “I’ll be good,” he spoke quietly, “I promise. I wanna be your good puppy.” “Then show me how good you can be,” you sighed, ramping up the intensity of the vibrations before you slipped the vibrator into your core beneath Jeno’s teary gaze.
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jadequeen88 · 3 years
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Smart Girls Make Fast Learners
NSFW 18+ ONLY. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!
My contribution to the BNHarem’s monthly collab. The theme was SEx work. ⛓This piece is a first real deep dive into darker themes and was actually really, really exciting to write. 🖤 A massive thanks to my dear friend @libiraki​ for beta reading this.
TW: yandere behavior, toxic relationship, degradation, non-con, dub-con, degradation/praise kinks, mind break, oral (M and F receiving), over stim, loss of virginity, mentions of physical violence.
DISCLAIMER: I do not condone this type of relationship. This is a work of fiction and if this happens IRL please get out of the relationship!
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There is a very specific type of dread that occurs when you discover that the person you built your world around has been lying to you. Tamaki Amajiki was experiencing this brand of betrayal for the first time in his twenty-one years on a rainy Tuesday in October in the dim lighting of your dorm room. His grip tightened around the open laptop as he stared at glimpses of flesh in the thumbnails of the many, many videos posted to the site. Previous live streams with thousands of views. He gulped down the bile in his throat as he scrolled through the videos. His shock and disgust morphed into a pure rage as he counted up the live streams that you’d had since first kissing him. 12. There had been twelve. Three times a week for the past four weeks. 
Those big doe eyes that looked into his eyes as you tentatively licked the tip of his cock for the first time… mere hours later they were rolling in the back of your head as you got off for strangers on the internet. He couldn’t take it. You were his first… everything… he knew that you hadn’t been innocent in your past. The way your tongue expertly wound around his when you first kissed him amongst your plush pillows and goose-down comforter reminded him of the fact. The low violet LED lighting of your bedroom made him feel like the two of you were in your own ethereal world. He could forgive you for not waiting for him as he’d waited for you. 
For the past four years, he kept to the shadows. He was there when the football player from freshman year cheated on you with one of your terrible friends (and when it happened the second, third, fourth time). He was there to binge your favorite shows with you (“*insert current guy you were fucking* just doesn’t get it, he’s not into it. I’m so glad I’ve got you to watch it with!”) He bit back the heartache that would wash over him when you’d pet him and coo over him… you didn’t see him as a man. He wanted to bend you over and prove he could fuck your brains out. He KNOWS he’d be perfect for you. But he never rejected the attention. He smiled and accepted whatever crumbs fell from your table. Whether it be helping you study or letting you complain about your shitty friends or your shitty jock boyfriends or your shitty parents… He gave and gave and gave… until that one day, 35 days ago to be exact, a shift in the tide occurred.
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“So why don’t you have a girlfriend, Tama-kun?”
“Wh-wha?”
Tamaki dropped the pencil he’d been using and before he could bend to get it himself, your hand was on his thigh and he was putty in your grasp. You giggled and cooed over him like you always did, but this time you did it while assaulting his mouth and neck with your skilled tongue. This time, for the first time, you made Tamaki feel like a man. Like YOUR man.
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Over the next few weeks, Tamaki had become quite skilled in pleasing a woman. It only took a little guidance to have him sucking at your clit with just the right amount of pressure. He learned on his own how to couple that with his long, delicate fingers twisting and pumping in and out of your slick hole. You’d cling to his silky hair, pulling him closer as a constant stream of praise tumbled from your lips:
“No one has ever made me feel this good.”
“Your fingers are perfect Tama-kun”.
“I love your mouth on me so much, baby.”
The first time you came on his face, Tamaki knew there was a god because he’d found heaven between your thighs.
But that was gone now… ripped away with one mouse click on the night he was going to finally give you his virginity. He had held on to it like it was a treasure. A treasure he’d present to you one day wrapped up in life-long devotion and worship... But Tamaki wasn’t in heaven anymore. He wasn’t going to worship you tonight. For the first time since laying eyes on you, Tamaki wanted to hurt you.
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You turned the shower off and dried yourself. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, you couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. You felt like this was going to be the first time giving your body to someone. Tonight was a redo. You were wiping the slate clean. Your first time would no longer be underneath the football captain in the passenger seat of his truck, left feeling sore and unsatisfied. It was going to be with the guy you should have noticed long ago. It would be soft and slow… passionate and filled with sweet words and caresses… limbs tangled in soft sheets that smell like lavender and vanilla. 
You applied your lotion and moisturized your face. The red lace adorning your body was arranged perfectly, accentuating the soft swell of your hips and chest. With one last glance in the mirror and adjustment of your bra, you opened the door to the cool air of your dorm room…
...And saw Tamaki looking murderous. 
His eyes slowly left the screen to meet your gaze. His tear-stained face had never looked this harsh. His normally sweet eyes were narrowed and red from crying. The sweet lips you’d licked and sucked with such tenderness were hard and cold as they pulled upward in a grimace.
The only thing he said before rising from the bed and setting aside your laptop was your camgirl username. Then he was on you before you could draw a breath to explain.
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Tamaki always thought he liked you best on top of him showering him with kisses and threading your fingers through his hair, but he had to admit… having your arms tied to a bed frame with the silky sash of your bathrobe cutting into your skin was doing things to him. When you sniffled, face stained with tears and snot, his dick twitched in his boxers. The whines you were choking back behind the silky red panties stuffed down your throat sent chills up his spine. You had to learn the hard way not to spit them out after a harsh slap echoed against your skin when you fought back the first time.
Tamaki stood back to survey the mess of skin, spit, and tears for a moment. You were a blank canvas for him to mark up with his rage and lust. You tried to hide away your bare pussy by clenching your thighs together. It only spurred him on.
“Do you have any clue what you’ve done?” he hovered over you, sleek muscles rippling over your own soft body, “I waited, and waited, and WAITED,” he bit down on the side of your exposed neck and you screamed behind the silky gag, trying your best not to expel it from your mouth and receive more punishment.
“I want to give you everything, Y/N,” he licks over the bite, almost apologetically, “I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want it to happen like this… FUCK, why?! Why did you ruin this?” his long fingers dug into your cheeks as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze. You couldn’t help whimpering and sniffling back more clear runny snot. You were so humiliated at how disheveled and disgusting you must look. His head ducked into the soft spot between your neck and shoulder and you felt him sob. 
Despite the abuse he’d inflicted upon you in the last ten minutes, you nuzzled your cheek into the top of his head in an attempt to comfort him. And he let you… he hated himself for it and he hated you for making this all so hard for him.
“No… no, no, no,” he rose from the bed to set up your ring-light and laptop, ice running through your veins at the sight. Your mind couldn’t accept what was about to happen.
“I’m... I’m not letting you get away with this,” he shook his head and pulled at his hair as he finished setting everything up, “If you’re insisting on being a slut, you’ll be MY slut. And everyone will know…” he jerked your ankle to force you flat on your back.
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Maybe if he’d let the gag out of your mouth, you’d be able to tell him this was just a job to you. That it was clinical… that he was the only one who had ever been able to get you off, that his face was the only one you’d come on… that you needed the money since your parents had disowned you…
But you only laid there, accepting whatever he was going to dish out. You knew he was hurt. You weren’t stupid. You overlooked him while knowing how he felt about you. It took years of horrible one-night stands and countless frat parties pretending that whatever guy you’d picked that night was interesting for you to come to your senses. You hated yourself for being so blind for so long… You adored Tamaki, truly. And you hated yourself for all the times you’d hurt him… so you swallowed your fear and tried to prepare yourself for whatever came next.
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Any soft parts of Tamaki that you’d grown to love were gone, hardened by heartache and desperation. After angling the laptop to get the perfect shot, he started the live stream countdown. Subscribers started trickling in, commenting on how this was a pleasant surprise since it wasn’t one of your regularly scheduled streams. You shut your eyes to pretend this wasn’t real.
Without fanfare or warning, Tamaki ripped apart your thighs, exposing your bare slit. A raw shrill was pulled from your lungs, your back arching from the sting of an abrupt slap. Neurons fired off in your brain… were you in pain? Was it pleasure?
“Since my girlfriend likes to keep secrets from me, I can’t trust what comes out of her whore mouth,” he emphasized his point by stuffing his fingers past your lips, pushing the soaked silk further into your throat, “So she’s going to keep this gag right here until I can fuck the truth out of her,” he trailed his fingers along your reddened folds. Were you getting wet? Horror and shame blossomed in your chest. The fact that you were growing aroused wasn’t lost on Tamaki. His foreign, sadistic grin was back… aimed directly into your soul.  
“So that’s what you like, huh?” His nails bit into your thighs leaving tiny crescents behind, “I’ve been too nice? Too soft?” He pushed your thighs impossibly wide, the stretch causing you to moan. He hovered over your core, onyx orbs blown wide with a mix of hate and lust. Tamaki looked like the devil himself and you wondered just how fucked up you were for wanting his punishment.
He opened his mouth and lolled out his tongue, never severing the desperate gaze you both shared, his intertwined with hunger, yours with fear. You’d never noticed how long and thick his tongue was and couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel caressing every ridge and crevice of your inner walls. He flattened the warm, wet muscle and pressed it along your slit. As he slowly slid it closer and closer to your burning clit, you whimpered and bucked your hips chasing the pleasure you knew he was capable of giving… but this was not your sweet boy and he wasn’t doing any of this for your pleasure.
He slung his arm over your lower stomach and growled into your drenched lips. You were pinned down, helpless against his torturous tongue. Fresh tears pricked at your eyes as you remembered how he’d let you pet him and buck into his face, how sweetly he’d ease you into a gentle release. Not this time… it was all teeth and sharp sucks, his tongue forcing you open violently. You were being shoved over a cliff and despite the horror and violence of what was happening to you. You were approaching an orgasmic state at record speed. Tamaki caught on and doubled down. The arm that wasn’t pinning you into the mattress pulled your leg down straight, your knee in a death grip. The new angle made the sensations even more intense. His face pressed harder into your core and you noticed that at some point, he’d started weeping, small sobs vibrating against your skin. The overwhelming mix of emotions and the vigor in which he was eating you shoved you over the edge.
He kept going along at the same speed with the same determination through your orgasm until it became painful. You pushed past it as best you could, allowing him to sob into your over-sensitive skin until he had his fill. As the pain started intermingling with pleasure, your legs shook and the gag couldn’t hold your screams back any longer. You released against his tongue once more, both of you sobbing. He laid against your thigh for what felt like an eternity before he lifted himself to lay on top of you, his hip bones digging into your soft thighs. You could feel the bulge through the thin material of his boxer briefs. Your hips rose to meet it, a pleading gesture filled with the desire to comfort and please him. Your eagerness encourages his mercy, there’s a meek cry that leaves your lips when the damp silk slips from between your teeth.
“Please baby… I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you…” your voice was as weak as a kitten’s cry and Tamaki couldn’t deny it made his heart (his dick) clench.
“Say it…” his lips were close enough to kiss, but you resisted… fearful of what he’d do if you did.
“Say what, Tama?” your eyes were wide with concern and confusion. You were desperate to please him.
He turned your face to the camera that you’d forgotten was there and the gravity of the situation crashed around you again. New tears leaked from your stinging eyes as Tamaki whispered into your ear.
“Say that you’re a lying whore…”
“I..I’m a lying whore…”
The last syllable broke as your abused throat grew accustomed to speaking again. He rewarded you with a soft kiss to your cheek and your eyes closed at the tender gesture. The familiar pain in your chest welled to the surface causing even more tears to escape.
“And tell everyone that you’re my own personal slut”
You repeated the phrase to the audience behind the screen and he hummed with approval, trailing one finger along your wet cheek. 
“Good girl…” the praise sent shivers through your wrecked body.
“And tell them from now on, your boyfriend will be the only one making you come… that they only get to see you be HIS slut.”
You noticed the chat going absolutely haywire at your announcement. Before Tamaki shut your laptop, you realized you’d made three times as much as you’d ever made before and a twisted sense of accomplishment filled your cloudy mind.
“Please,” your voice came out in a croak, “Please untie me. I wanna make it up to you,” his clothed bulge was burning into your core and you could tell he was close to breaking.
“Please let me make you feel good. I’m so, so sorry,” the clench of your thighs around his waist made him whimper.
He reluctantly pulled away to sit on the foot of the bed. The way he curled in on himself hugging his knees made him appear so small, so fragile… a complete change from the man who’d just manhandled you into restraints.
“You’re a liar…” you almost didn’t hear the whisper, his face buried into his knees.
“Please!” you were losing feeling in your hands and all you wanted was to be free to comfort him.
His eyes met yours and it was your Tamaki again... Your sweet boy… the snarling, green beast that threatened to devour you was sleeping now after it reached its fill of violence. He crawled over your body and released your restraint. Before you even regained feeling in your hands, you wrapped your arms around him. You littered his collarbone with sweet kisses and apologetic sobs. He began to melt into your affectionate gestures and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him impossibly close. Wet lips met and your tongues fought against each other for dominance. Hips began to roll against each other, increasing pressure until you both gasped. 
The violence was gone, but this was still not a gentle coupling like you’d been planning. Tamaki pulled away and freed his straining cock from his boxers. The skin-to-skin contact made your eyes roll back into your skull. You felt his long fingers grasp your throat, squeezing to remind you just how powerful they were. You shuddered in response, arching upward into his touch, chasing that high his dominance was giving you.
With one swift motion, Tamaki speared you onto his cock. With the minimal prep he’d given you, the stretch was agonizing. This was by far the largest cock you’d ever taken and it stole your breath from your aching lungs. You moaned earning a visceral reaction from the boy on top of you.  
Tamaki stayed as still as he could. He refused to come so soon… not when he’d waited so long for this. He tightened his grip on your throat and tentatively rocked his hips into yours. It didn’t take long for it to progress into the most frantic love-making you’d ever experienced.
There was no other way to describe it, he was hate fucking you… biting and sucking your chest until blood bloomed under your skin… hammering into your sore, sticky cunt with total abandon… he was using you like a toy, taking out all his frustrations on your body.
It was ecstasy.
When his hips stuttered as he met his release, the spasms of his tip against your gummy walls sent you into a painful orgasm. You were spent and it seemed like he was too. Your fingers twitched over the crown of his head, wanting to run your fingers through his hair but too scared to initiate any contact with him. As if he could read your mind, he grabbed your hand and placed it on his head. You sighed and began carding through the tangles, gently undoing them. You felt a stream of tears running down your chest as you worked your fingers through his strands. Lifting his face gently, you met his teary gaze with your own.
“Don’t…” he drew in a shuddering breath, “ever lie to me like that again…” the monster behind his eyes stirred quietly, a malicious glint in his eye, before shifting back into your gentle boyfriend. 
“Never, I swear to you, baby…” he lets you lift his chin gently to meet your lips. His eyes close and he sighs into your kiss. His muscles relax and when his eyes open again, his warm, adoring expression falls over your face. The hand that wanted to choke the life out of your eyes minutes ago now caresses your jaw tenderly,
“I trust you…” his lips turn up into a grin that’s just a little too wide, “Because you’re a smart girl, aren’t you?” his top lip brushed against your still trembling bottom lip…
“Y-yes…”
You were fucked. This whole situation was fucked up and you weren’t blind to the fact. But as Tamaki nuzzled into your neck placing soft kisses and whispering praises into your skin, you let yourself bask in the gentleness of the moment…
Because you were a smart girl and smart girls learn their lessons quickly... 
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lokiskitten · 3 years
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Tom Hiddleston | vampiric love
vampire!Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader
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plot : Tom manages to lure you into his bedroom and decides to turn you into his midnight snack, and that in all ways possible.
warnings : vampire x human encounter, teasing, smut, unprotected sex, mention of blood, blood drinking, mention of death.
The door suddenly closed behind you, loud bang echoing through the never ending corridors that Tom’s castle contained. You were now trapped in here with him, the light that the full moon created and which passed through the window embracing his extremely pale silhouette. A couple of candles were lit in the bedroom, allowing both of you to see each other rather distinguishably. Yet, even through fear, you couldn’t help but feel attracted to the man standing threateningly before your shaky silhouette.
“At last, seems like the little mouse landed into the cat’s lethal claws.” He notified, head tilting slightly as his skin continued to glisten underneath the light of the moon. Your breath was shaky, feet backing away until your ass bumped against the edge of the bed. This sight ravished the blood drinking creature, head slightly tilting as his eyes barely squinted. His pale hands traveled up to the collar of his white Victorian shirt, pulling onto each side and allowing the light piece of clothing to fall down to the ground. He was now standing shirtless face to you, the many scars that adorned his skin visible to your eyes.
On another hand, you seemed to have lost any moving capacities which once animated your body. Bruised lips parted face to his handsomeness, heart fluttering as Tom slowly started to take a couple of shy steps towards your body. You knew about vampires and their reputation- them being absolute womanizers and heavy blood drinkers. Though, you never thought ending up between the claws of one. His arm extended towards your face, pointy nails gently caressing your pale cheek. A tear escaped your orb, sliding all the way down your cheekbone and landing onto Tom’s fingertip.
The man continued to make eye contact with you, hand moving back to his own face as he parted his lips before gentle sucking the salty water that your eye had provided him off his fingertip. You gasped, watching the way his lips wrapped around one of his natural lethal weapons. A moist sound echoed throughout the room as he pulled his finger out of his mouth, discreet smile forming on his lips as he took the initiative to take ahold of your wrist and place your palm against his abdominals. The way his stomach didn’t bulge due to his lack of respiration made you tremble, yet you couldn’t help but feel intrigued by his entire being.
The vampire had a hook on you, hypnotizing your senses with his magic and forcing you to feel enhanced by his strong aura. Thomas didn’t speak a word, yet his entire being caused your heart to flutter. Again, his head tilted as he watched the way you learned how to explore his body, believing that it was ironic for someone who would be deceased within the following hour. His other hand moved up to your cheek, caressing it with slight more eagerness than he did the first time. You leant in his cold touch, eyelids closing as your warm hand continued to stroke his toned stomach.
Gently, the vampire ended up pushing you down against the sheets, peculiar blue eyes replacing the usual red ones he adorned when hunting. Your legs spread automatically, head landing against the satin pillows as the night creature slid in between your parted thighs. His lips immediately collided with yours, crotch waving against yours as his loosened pants slid a couple of centimeters lower, revealing the top of his firm bum. His tongue attempted to slide inside of your mouth, wanting to feel the way your saliva tasted yet not as much as he wished to discover how your blood would taste sliding down his throat.
A fainted moan escaped your now free lips, Tom’s head lowering down between your breasts which he praised with kisses as soon as he had lifted your shirt. Though, he was soon to sit up, waiting for you to do same as his blue eyes scanned your body. Like an obedient puppy would’ve done, you agreed to sit up as a shy gasp escaped your lips, arms lifting above your head which allowed the vampire to remove your t-shirt. It was a dangerous game you were playing, yet you couldn’t seem to put it to an end. The vampire took your shirt off, sliding it above your head before carelessly dropping it to the ground.
Your breath was shaky, bare chest now exposed to him as he admired the way your jugular pumped blood through your skin. Saliva soon started to accumulate in his mouth, pointy canines growing out of his gum as he slowly leant towards your body. The vampire’s face neared your neck, lips parting slightly as his other hand took ahold of your opposite shoulder. The man was getting ready to bite, eyelids shutting close as his head tilted backwards slightly in order to prepare the moment where he would finally get to dig his fangs into your skin. You couldn’t help but tremble whilst apprehending what was to come, wince unexpectedly exiting your lips even though the vampire hadn’t touched you yet.
Tom understood and acknowledged your fear, fangs retracting back in his gum as his eyes opened again. The vampire agreed to back away, sitting back down onto his bum whilst making eye contact with you. A tear ran down your cheek, quiet sob escaping your lips as you couldn’t help but finally face your terrible faith. “Shhh..” he begged, sorrow reflecting in his light irises as he seemed to be able to share the same sadness which filled your entire being. The man was a monster, yet still managed to understand his prey’s fear and acknowledge it. Here was the beauty of the vampiric kind, which was shared by the way they looked.
“You won’t feel a thing. I promise.” Thomas purred before laying you back down onto the bed, fear and shock holding your back from properly reacting to his actions. It took him a couple of seconds to slide your jeans off, dropping it to the side just like he had previously done with your shirt before taking care of his own Victorian pants. The vampire’s jaw clenched as he pulled you onto his lap, hard member standing proud and tall as he wrapped his strong arms around your body for support.
It didn’t take long for his pulsating cock to slide inside of your moist entrance, moan escaping your lips which matched Tom’s fainted groans. Again, the overload of different emotions drove you unexpectedly wild, your body soon starting to bounce up and down onto his lap which created pleasant friction for both of your genitals to enjoy. His pointy nails dug into your skin, and so did yours in the vampire’s back. The man enjoyed the way you seemed to be pleased by this intercourse, his blue eyes staring up at your face as your arms wrapped around his neck for support. Feeling the warmth of a living being, of a woman, was something he never managed to get over.
Though, whilst your sight was being blurred by the heated intercourse, the blood drinker’s eyes progressively switched colors- a very dense red replacing the ocean blue he once used to perfectly adorn. The man’s fangs popped out of his gum again, your neck being in perfect reach as he was being overstimulated by the natural scent of your pheromones invading his living dead organism. And before you could notice, his teeth suddenly dug into your neck, piercing through your jugular and causing a painful moan to escape your lips.
Your body ceased to move as Tom started to suck blood out of your veins, eyes closing progressively as you could feel life be dragged out of your poor organism the more the vampire continued to enjoy his dinner. Blood soon started to coat his mouth and lips, droplets sliding down your cleavage and landing onto your folded thighs. Though your arms remained clenched around his neck, his own hands held the small of your back and the back of your neck to make sure you wouldn’t get the chance to back away.
It didn’t take long until Tom was done emptying you from your blood, a couple of seconds in fact, as thousands and thousands of years of practice had allow him to perfect his techniques.
here’s something different! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Don’t hesitate to leave a comment or a request! Love y’all. 💜
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boom-bakugou · 4 years
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‘Wherever You Are’ - Shoto Todoroki/Eijiro Kirishima
A/N: This piece is for my @bnhabookclub bingo card! I’m crossing out “Be Quiet” and ‘Heated Argument’. I would also like to thank @honeytama @shoutogepi and @dragonhrte for beta reading <333
Pairings: Pro Hero!Todoroki x F!Reader / Pro Hero!Kirishima x F!Reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, mutual masturbation, minor temperature play, minor angst!
Summary: Todoroki already broke your heart when he said he was leaving for 6 months, but Kirishima can glue your broken heart back together before he returns...right?
Word Count: 5.2k
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“6 months.”
The words stung more than they should’ve. Half a year of not being able to see his face, hold his hand, sleep together in the same bed.
“Does it have to be so long? Do you really have to go?”
God your mind ran at a hundred miles a minute. Searching his face for any semblance of wanting to rethink the offer about heroing in America. But the sympathetic glance in his eyes was enough to tell you what his words could not.
Of course you were proud of him, of course you were. It wasn’t a minor thing in his career and not many heroes would be selected for such an astounding opportunity. Top heroes in Japan touring around America to show their quirks and how different cultures portrayed their heroes. A bit flamboyant for Todoroki but you presumed he was only following as Deku and Ground Zero were also picked for the once-in-a-lifetime gig.
“I’ll be back before you know it baby, I promise.”
So you took that promise to heart.
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In the following months leading to his departure, there was a heavy air between the two of you that wouldn’t be mentioned. As if you both knew the inevitable was coming. How would you two manage a relationship from thousands of miles away? You had read every article on the internet, even bought books and followed tags that allowed you to know how to keep the fire burning between the two of you.
Shoto was typically quiet, he always was. But as he began packing his bags for the long tour, he was deathly silent. The guilt of leaving you by yourself in your shared home burning him up inside. He knew he had to say something to you about this whole ordeal, but how could he? He was taking this life changing decision and ruining what you two had perfectly here. But you two could survive right? Or was that the right decision overall? Was prolonging you two the right decision?
It all came down to the day he had to leave. Helping him pack the last of his necessities into his very packed suitcases which had been neatly placed upon your shared bed.
“I completely forgot to ask, how’re you getting to the airport?”
“Bakugou and Midoriya are dropping me off.”
Oh. You had hoped you could get those final moments of couples bliss before he left, but you couldn’t not indulge in having the two young heroes watch in jealousy of you and your boyfriend.
“Can I come? See you off before you leave?”
Your tone was so bittersweet. Not really wanting to see him leave into the airport gates.
“Of course you can.” Todoroki zipped up his final case before pressing a chaste kiss upon your forehead, lingering for a moment to then head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for you both.
The familiar ring of Todoroki’s phone signified that Bakugou and Midoriya were outside. Bakugou had convinced Kirishima to drive them to the airport (which he did not appreciate as it was far too early for him) and he was the one to head up to help Todoroki with his cases.
“I’ll get that for you Y/N, no worries.” His toothy grin glimmered to you as he picked up the heavy case with ease. It must be fun being a pro-hero.
The ride to the airport was sweet, despite being squashed in the back with Bakugou and Todoroki. It was mostly filled with inside jokes between the four boys and Bakugou screaming for the aux cord because ‘Shitty hair’s music is shitty’. You’d miss the small moments like these.
After checking the three men and their bags to the plane, Todoroki and you parted from the group to have a few last moments together before it would only be facetimes and snapchat stories in seeing each other’s lives.
“Y/N you know this will be difficult right?”
“I know, but I’ve planned everything out! We’re gonna be fine.”
“I’m going to be so busy though, I’ll barely have time for calls and I’ll be so tired at the end of my day and-“
“That’s why when we do call, it’ll be so much more special! We have date nights planned and-“
“Y/N, look I just don’t think I want to push this.”
You could have almost spat your coffee out at his interruption. He wasn’t even looking at you, springing this up on you in your last moments before not seeing him for 6 whole months.
“Wh-what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that… I don’t know, maybe you should see other people. I just don’t think- with how busy I am-it willon’t work.”
You hadn’t even realised you were crying. Your glare towards him basically begging for him to look you in the eyes. Coward.
“So you won’t even try?”
“I just don’t see the point-“
“The point in us?” The daggers in your voice finally made him look up at you, the snivelling mess he had made you into. He had gotten your hopes up that it would work, that you’d still be there for him and support him. “Have fun on your tour Todoroki.”
You left your coffee half drunk, not even wanting the takeaway cup with his name on it. It wasn’t worth your time.
“Hey Kirishima could I have the keys to your car? I just wanna sit down for a bit.” Your eyes were practically glued to the floor, as a means to not show him that you were seconds from fully breaking down.
“Sure, but, aren’t you gonna say goodbye to Sho?” He reluctantly pulled his keys out from his sweatpants pocket, dangling them in front of you in hopes that he could see your expression.
“He just did.” You try your best not to snatch them from him but your attempt fails. You just wanted to be out of there. Even pushing past Bakugou and Midoriya to exit the building and sit alone with your thoughts.
Selfish bastard. If he’d been thinking about this for so long why not just break up with you when he first told you? Why wait so fucking long for him to just break your heart when you did so much to salvage anything if things got bad? You hit your hand on the steering wheel so hard that the horn beeps and you sob more from the fright. You must’ve looked insane.
Kirishima arrived back at his car about 10 minutes later. Sliding out from the driver’s position to the passenger seat silently, you had at least cleaned yourself up a bit in the thought of knowing that he would soon be back.
“So, he told me.” Kirishima breaks the silence. Hands gripping the wheel with a nervous intent. Knowing it’s a very touchy subject.
“Yeah?”
“It’s gonna be fine y’know? At least he’s not like in your face or anything or you can’t awkwardly bump into him in the street.” His attempts to pick up the mood fall on deaf ears.
“He didn’t have to drag me along for the ride though.” Your tears slide down your face and pool on your neck, not even having the strength within you to wipe them away.
“Well we’re all here for you no matter what Y/N-“
“Can I go to yours for a bit? I know it’s early I just… don’t want to go back to the flat just yet.”
“Course you can.”
-
Staying at Kirishima’s became a regular thing. Not really being able to confine yourself to the four walls of the apartment you used to share with Shoto.
He’d let you sleep in his spare room, his gym equipment keeping you company in the night. It was a fine arrangement. Kirishima was always so nice to you when you were with Todoroki, and since your abrupt breakup; you had an inkling that Kirishima wasn’t on the best of terms with him anymore.
The barren walls and blankets kept you safe from old memories, but your mind followed through with the nightmares.
Your body shook from the antagonising scowl upon Todoroki’s face, it was terrifying but mostly upsetting. You couldn’t help but sob yourself awake. Your pillow a wet mess and your throat dry from screaming.
“Y/N?”
Kirishima stood in your doorway, the light from the hallway pooling around him and the sympathetic gaze in his tired eyes.
“Nightmares?”
You nodded, sitting yourself up in bed and wiping the wet from your cheeks. Kirishima sat on the edge of your bed, rubbing your leg comfortingly over the duvet.
“Do you need anything?” The tired croak in his voice broke your heart further. You felt like such a burden.
“No I’m okay; thank you.” With a small smile, Kirishima got up to go back to bed before you intervened. “Wait- will you stay with me?”
There’s a small glimmer of confusion that passes over Kirishima’s face, but in the end he accepts. You’d known each other for many years and had many sleepovers in each other's dorms that this was nothing new.
Taking off his dressing gown, Kirishima was dressed in a slightly ripped top of his own ‘Red Riot’ merch and loose-fitting boxers. It took you a few moments to drink him in, this really was the most intimate you’d ever seen him.
And that’s how it went for 5 months, just you and Kirishima periodically sleeping in each other's beds to just be with each other. Nothing explicit or sexual, just sometimes touching feet or waking up near enough in each other’s arms.
Until 2 weeks before Deku, Bakugou and Todoroki were meant to come home.
Whether it was the heat of the night or just an off day from not having been intimate for so long you couldn’t help but just need someone to touch you so badly. Thankfully Kirishima was in his room so you at least had some alone time to run your fingers against your slick folds, fingers sopping wet from just how aroused you actually were.
It was infuriating about how you could barely get yourself off, and stifling your moans with a weak lip bite was getting you absolutely nowhere. You knew how thin Kirishima’s walls could be from that night he brought a girl home once. You barely got a lick of sleep just from the noise… or from the slight twinge of jealousy.
Because it had become such a norm to you both, you hadn’t even noticed Kirishima enter your room with your eyelids pressed shut trying to picture any sort of scenario to get the edge off. So when you felt him tugging at your covers; your whole body turned to ice.
“Kiri wait-“
But it was far too late. He had no choice but to see the bottom half of you completely naked and drenched in your own slick.
“Oh fuck Y/N- I-I’m so sorry look I’ll go I should’ve knocked- fuck I’m sorry.” Even in the darkness of your room you could clearly see the blush on his face as if it was illuminative. You also couldn’t peel your eyes away from the rising tent in his sweatpants. You could’ve licked your lips at the sight.
“It’s alright- I’m sorry I didn’t notice you sooner.” You tried your best to catch your breath, with no real success as your tone was so ragged. You covered yourself up and place your hands on top of your covers; allowing for some form of minor stimulation to yourself without Kirishima noticing.
“D-Do you want me to help?” He sounded so innocent but the way he licked his lips sent chills to your spine. Could you really sleep with your best friend?
“I-I don’t know, but- you obviously need some help yourself.” You do your best to joke about the awkward situation, something that was rather natural for your friendship. Kirishima couldn’t help but slyly place his hands over his crotch despite you already noticing the dark grey patch of pre-cum staining the fabric.
“Well… we could just… masturbate together?” The thought hung in the air for a brief moment as it washed over the both of you, Kirishima gulping as the silence lasted longer than expected.
“Okay…” Your tone was hesitant but he could tell by how dilated your pupils were that this would probably be something neither of the two of you would mention in the morning. He’d be okay with that… maybe. Maybe not.
Sliding to his usual side of the bed, he leaned against the headboard and you sat yourself up a bit further. Pulling the covers to the side so everything was fully out in the open again. You could hear Kirishima hiss between his teeth at the sight of you even more drenched at the thought of you two doing this together. You watched with the same anticipation as him as he pulled his sweatpants down to let his cock spring free. The sight of it so red and flush couldn’t stop your hand from sliding back down to your heat.
Seeing the two of you like this was enough to get you both off, the room was filled with an air of silence but it wasn’t heavy. No, it was littered with the soft moans of you and your best friend.
Your eyes traced each other’s bodies as if you needed to discover every inch of each other with just your eyes. You’d seen Kirishima without his shirt many timesa time but you could practically beg for it just to see the way his muscles move as he pumped his cock. Kirishima gave you the same attentive look as he studied the way your fingers slid in and out of yourself.
After a few minutes of pleasure filled and moan ridden ecstasy; your hand began to cramp and the frustration of still not being able to get yourself off had tears streaming down your face.
“Fuck Kiri-“ You whined, hearing his name come out of your mouth was a sinful kiss to his ears. He wanted to hear it all the time.
“Yeah, me too princess.” He sounded so low it was basically a grunt of a sentence. “Do you want me to-?”
“Please.” He didn’t have to wait, you lifted away your tired hand from yourself and he slid along the bed to run his fingers up your slit. Just the feeling of another person touching you so intimately was enough to release the tension from your sore head, the scream released from your throat could’ve made him come undone right then and there.
“Just like that baby?” Kirishima’s calloused fingers danced delicately along your folds, squeezing ever so gently at your clit making your back arch. Your hand drifted along his midriff until it found the way to the bottom of his cock. He hissed at the feeling of your hand around him and his fingers stuttered against your core.
“Please, mmmf… need you in me.” You managed to choke out. Kirishima didn’t need another sign as he plunged two fingers into your wet self. He set his hand just above your head, leaning down on you as you fisted his member at the same rate he thrusted his fingers in and out of you.
You both silently knew that it’d be too weird if you two actually had sex. You were just helping each other in a time of need.
Kirishima pressed his knuckles down on the spongy part of your insides, making your hand falter aagainst him before finding your way to pick up your pace again.
“Fuck fuck, Y/N- I’m so fucking close.” Kirishima forced the words out of his mouth as he watched you writhe in pleasure underneath him.
“Me too Kiri oh fuck-“ You could feel the coil tightening within you ready to burst and you felt him twitch beneath your hand.
“Fucking hell fuck Y/N I lo-.” The sound of him moaning as he came into your hand and parts of your stomach drowned out his sentence and the way he curled his fingers while inside of you was enough to also tip you over the edge, grabbing his shoulder with your free hand for a reason to ground you to reality.
Catching your breath, Kirishima slid away from above you. The reality of the situation almost settling in for the two of you. He lifted the waistband of his sweatpants up before pressing a chaste kiss on your head. He wished he would have lingered longer.
“I’ll get something to help you clean up.” He returned with two hot flannels, rubbing wherever his come had landed on you and using the other to wipe any sweat or where your slick had coated your thighs.
“Thank you Kirishima.” Your throat croaked from the pleasure of it all, Kirishima couldn’t help but give a short chuckle as he crawled into bed with you after throwing the flannels in the washing machine.
“I should be thanking you too.”
With that you both fell asleep, a little closer to each other than usual. But, what was he going to say before he got interrupted? You didn’t have time to think of that now.
-
Within two weeks, you and Kirishima had become a lot closer after your little ‘sexual altercation’. Your social media was flooded with photos of you and him going out to eat and going to the movies together and just dumb stuff you’d do at his apartment. So after 6 months of living on and off together; you two decided that you’d officially become roommates. Not a couple just… roommates.
“You gonna need any help or anything?” Kirishima smiled as you opened the door to your old apartment you used to share with Todoroki. Thankfully for the last time.
“Just go to work silly. I'm just grabbing the last of my stuff. It's nothing big, just clothes and ornaments.” You waver him off with a shake of your hand. “You gotta head to work and finish that paperwork.”
That earned a groan from him.
“I’d rather be manly and helpful to you.” He leaned his arm against the doorframe as you unlocked the door.
“Yeah? Well you can go and be manly and helpful to the public, I’ll see you later Kiri.” You smirk, he rolls his eyes. You parted with a small hug and you began to get started to clean up the final things in your old apartment with Todoroki.
It looked almost barren now, you didn’t realise how much of you was in this house and not him. He was always reserved, unlike Kirishima. Even though it was never a fully agreed upon thing that you were living with Kiri as you’d come back to this old house for most of the week- it didn’t feel like home. But it did with Kirishima.
You placed old bedcovers and old clothes into a cardboard box, humming to yourself at the glee of not being alone in the birdcage of your ex. You didn’t even hear the keys go in the door. It wasn’t until you were exiting your old shared bedroom with the box in hand did you notice him. You couldn’t help but drop the box as there was Todoroki, unchanged from the day he left you at that airport cafe.
“Y/N?”
“I was just leaving.”
“Leaving where? Where’ve all your things gone?” He couldn’t not help but notice your decorum missing, it brought life into the modern studio apartment.
“I don’t live here anymore Todoroki. I’m just getting my things and going home.” You attempt to save yourself the embarrassment of already dropping the box by spitting back with venom.
The look of confusion on the bicoloured man’s face was evident. You had no time to play his games.
“I live with Kirishima, I’m getting the last of my things. I didn’t even realise you’d be home today.” You sigh. Though, maybe you subconsciously did. Maybe you knew that he’d be home today and that’s why you decided today was the day you’d get the rest of your things.
“I thought you were getting a bit close.” Todoroki grumbled under his breath, but he knew you heard him. “Always on dates together, always at his house.”
The loud ‘hah’ you let out of your mouth was a jutter in the conversation, Todoroki was obviously taken aback.
“What’s it even to you? Why should you give a shit about my life when you just up and disappeared for 6 months on your own volition huh?” You spat despite your whole body shaking, you couldn’t have missed him right? “You left me alone even when I supported you, did all that shit to make sure we’d stay in contact and now you have the nerve to be jealous?”
His eyes scanned your face before watching you intently, crossing the space between you to finally stand in front of you. You could smell his cologne, citrus and sharp. You’d forgotten how much you missed that smell.
“I didn’t know how much I’d missed you Y/N.” You could feel his breath fan your face catching your own ever so slightly. “I missed you so fucking much baby.”
“Todoroki-“
“Come on baby tell me you didn’t miss me too.” His voice was so soft and sweet to your ears, you couldn’t even stop him from leaning in so close to your face.
“I-“ But before you could speak his lips had encapsulated yours, the box in your hands losing grip.
God had you missed his lips upon yours, you sunk into the kiss as if you had never slept and he was the comfiest bed on earth. He pushed the box from your hands and it landed to the floor with a large thud, taking you by surprise. Yet despite you breaking the kiss from the surprise he swooped you back to having his lips against yours once again.
Kicking the cardboard from the separation of the two of you, Todoroki pulled you close. Taking you in his arms and furthering the kiss. He’d gotten more toned in the months that he’d been gone, your hands dancing over his muscles which were taught against his jumper.
“I should’ve never fucking left you baby girl.” He moaned against your lips, hand to the back of your neck as he drank you in. “Never. I missed you so fucking much.”
Sliding his hands from your neck to your lower back until he reached your thighs, Todoroki pulled you up and you gripped onto his waist as if it was clockwork. How could you have ever thought about anyone else but him? Todoroki walked with ease with you around him to your old bedroom, and when he lay you on your bed it didn’t feel so small anymore.
Buzz Buzz
“Fuck- Shoto my phone,” You whined as Todoroki left nipping kisses down your neck, you shifted beneath him to grab your phone from your back pocket to only see Kirishima’s name flash before you. You could feel Shoto’s heterochromic gaze as the photo of you and Kirishima lit up the screen.
“Answer it-“ Todoroki’s voice was a commanding growl and by the way he squeezed your breasts roughly you couldn’t help but coincide. “Answer it, but be quiet.”
With a gulp you shakily clicked to answer the call and put it on speaker as Todoroki began to slide down your jeans.
“Hey Y/N! Look I know this is out of the blue and I’m at work but- I can’t just stop thinking about us and you know… what we did.” Kirishima’s voice rang through the phone and you feel that Todoroki’s eyes could have pierced through you right then and there.
“But I just think you know with everything we’ve been through together- god this is so not manly asking over the phone but… do you wanna go on a date sometime? I’ll take you out somewhere nice and proper.”
Todoroki rolled his hips into your clothed core after taking off your jeans and a moan threatened to erupt from your throat. Sliding your underwear down his fingers pressed against your wetness and slid down before he bent his head down licking a strip against your sensitive clit. He knew your body like the back of his hand- you missed his gentle touch.
“And I know it might be weird because of Todoroki but he broke up with you so it’s understandable right?” Todoroki’s grip on your thigh became tighter as he lapped your pussy you thought that if you bit your lip any harder it would surely bleed. “I talked with Bakugou about it and he didn’t exactly give the best advice but… I like you… a lot Y/N.”
You couldn’t help but let out a whimpering moan as Todoroki slipped his tongue inside of you and moved in and out of you slowly, relishing the small moans you made.
“Y/N? Are you there? You okay?”
Todoroki’s hand left your thigh and he sat up, allowing for his bulge to once again grind against your core. You gasp at the friction of his jeans against your sensitive clit.
���Y/N? Hello? Please tell me you’re alright?”
With a swift grab of your phone and a hand pressed to your lips; Todoroki began to basically growl back at Kirishima.
“She’s busy.”
Making a scene of pressing the end call button, Todoroki through your phone to the carpeted floor where it thankfully didn’t smash.
“Shoto!”
“So you’ve been messing about with Kirishima, baby?” You whimper at his words as he harshly presses his bulge against you. “Also, didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”
He grasps your chin with his forefinger and his thumb, placing a gentle kiss against your lips before bringing his other hand and slapping your ass hard. You wail at the contact which only gives Todoroki a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.
“It was only once Shoto I promise-“
“Shh shh shh, your filthy mouth needs to be quiet baby girl.” Todoroki leans up from you and begins to unbuckle his belt painfully slowly. His hand gestures afterwards as if telling you to finish disrobing yourself by yourself. “I should’ve never left you, no one else gets to know that this pretty little pussy is mine and mine alone. Got that princess?”
He brings his belt to slap against your thigh when you don’t give him a reply immediately, to which you soon nod your head.
“Let me hear your words baby girl.” His hands slide down to his boxers, jerking himself off as if to tease you as you couldn’t fully picture how he was fisting his cock right now.
“I’m yours Shoto, nobody else’s. Only ever yours.” You’re a whimpering mess and you try to cling to him desperately. He lets out a low chuckle before pulling his boxers fully down and letting his cock spring free.
Todoroki settles himself in between your legs, savouring a taste of your slick before angling his body back up so you were face to face, leaving wet kisses down your neck but biting at all the sweet spots he knew too well.
“Gonna mark you so that everybody knows that you belong to me.” His voice whispered against your skin, the tip of his member prodding against your folds; sliding up and down against you for some friction.
Shoto made his way back up from your nipples to your mouth before pressing his lips against you hungrily. He settled his hips neatly against yours and you instinctively wrapped your thighs around him as he pushed inside of you. Moaning into the kiss with each thrust until he completely bottomed out inside of you. You felt so full and right, you were Todoroki’s.
“God princess I forgot how much you felt like you were made for me.” Todoroki grunts as he begins to set a pace for himself, entangling his hands in your hair and tugging slightly so he has free reign over your neck for every bite and mark he saw fit. “Isn’t that right baby?”
“Yes- fuck me Shoto I’m all yours.” You dig your nails into his back, hard enough to leave marks tomorrow. Shoto starts pistoning his hips into you and you both can’t help but groan at the friction of your two bodies melding together.
Shoto slides his hand up your body until he reached the small of your back, arching you at a deeper angle into him as he fucked you directly into the bed. The sound it made only added to the erotic symphony of your bedroom combined with your moans and the wet skin slapping together. You fist your hands into the sheets in fear of clawing Todoroki’s back any more and you swore you could’ve torn the covers.
“Does that feel good princess? Am I the only one who knows how to make you feel as good as this?” Todoroki’s laugh is almost sinister as he brings his right hand to your clit, making it drop in temperature just to see you squirm.
“You make me feel so fucking good Shoto- so full I only want you- I only need you. Fuck I’m gonna-“
“You gonna come for me princess? Gonna come all around my cock? Good girl, come on come for me.” He whispered into your neck, feeling you tighten around him. Your back arched even further as you came undone around him, pushing himself even further into you to feel you convulse against his cock.
“Shit Y/N!” He groans, absolutely exasperated as he comes inside of you. Letting hot spurts of come dribble out from your pussy. His hands slide from your sides and into your hands as intertwines your fingers together. Shoto catches his breath, his bicoloured hair stuck to his forehead with sweat as he leans into your chest- the two of your synchronising your breathing together.
“Did you miss that my baby? Miss me taking care of you like that?” Todoroki showers your fluttering body with kisses as he pulls himself out of you. Your heart raced but also the pang of guilt was there from the phone call from Kirishima.
“I missed you Sho.”
Todoroki took care of your heavily bruised body, apologising for the bruises upon your waist where he gripped you too tightly and covering you up tightly into your old bedsheets to lay together just like the old days.
However Kirishima was just glad he had a lock on his office door. He gripped his phone tightly in his hands after hearing your orgasm brought him to his own. The pretty profanities that fell out your mouth drove him insane. He’d have to seriously clean himself up after jacking off to your explicit moans from over the phone. Did Todoroki mean to hang up? He didn’t care right now, he just cared about good he could still make you feel.
He was going to make you his. Todoroki or not.
2K notes · View notes
My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖
Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!
this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that
tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)
---
“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.
“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”
“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”
“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”
Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.
Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”
“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”
“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”
“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 
“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”
Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 
The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”
“Nope.”
“Cool.”
Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.
---
“I want this one, please, Ves.”
“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 
“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.
“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”
“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 
“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.
“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 
“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.
“Hmm.”
“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”
“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”
---
“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”
“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”
“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”
“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”
“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 
“Are you fucking with me right now?”
“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”
“Holy shit.”
“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”
“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”
---
“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”
“Oh, uh- thanks!”
“Yup.”
And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-
“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”
“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”
“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”
“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”
Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”
“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”
Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”
“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”
“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”
“Not… not really.”
“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”
“Versace!?” 
Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.
---
“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.
“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 
“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 
“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 
“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-
Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.
Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 
“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”
“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”
“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”
“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”
“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”
“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”
Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 
Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.
“Oh, wow.”
“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”
“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”
“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”
“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”
“They’re not exactly subtle.”
“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”
Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”
“Wow.”
“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”
“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 
“No.”
“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”
“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.
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---
“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.
“Nice,” he says.
Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”
“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.
“Uh… I- Thank you?”
“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”
“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”
“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”
The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 
Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 
“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”
“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”
“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 
“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”
“Sorry, Pierre!”
“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”
“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 
“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.
“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”
“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”
“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”
---
Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.
Okay, focus. 
He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 
Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”
He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.
“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”
“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.
“Are you, really?”
“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”
“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”
“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”
“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”
“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”
“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 
“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”
“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 
“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”
“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”
Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 
“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”
“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 
Vesemir makes a phone call.
---
2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen
---
“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”
“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”
“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 
“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”
“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”
“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”
“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”
“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 
Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”
“Geralt!”
Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 
“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”
“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”
“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”
“Do you… do you not want me he-”
Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 
He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”
“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”
244 notes · View notes
littlemisspascal · 3 years
Text
Death and an Angel part 11
Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader
Summary:  “When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll be happy together.”
Rating: T
Word Count: 3,511
Warnings: captured reader, angst, bonding with Grogu, plot plot plot
Author Note: To anyone and everyone sticking with this series, I love you so much! I know the plot is more than a little thick right now, but answers are slowly but surely being revealed. 
Links to Part 1 and Part 10 and Part 12
Cross-posted on AO3.
Photo Inspiration:
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You pace the length of the cell, brow furrowed as you try to organize your racing thoughts. Between the chilly atmosphere and the severed bond wailing for its other half, you imagine you outwardly resemble the jittery and unbalanced mess you feel internally. You refuse to feel humiliated by your appearance, not when the witnesses are Gideon and his minions. They can think what they want about you, believe they have broken your spirit, because that just means they won’t expect it when you free yourself until it’s too late.
However, part two of your plan of escape is proving to be more challenging to conceptualize than you initially thought. The collar is tightly wound around your neck to the point of chafing. Apparently the rule of being able to slip two fingers under a collar is only applicable to animals in Gideon’s eyes because your attempt of slipping your finger between skin and metal is dissuaded by another electric shock zipping through your body.
However, as you lightly trail your fingertips over the cold metal, you’re surprised to feel a noticeable dip in the back. It’s not a design flaw, you think as you try to visualize it in your mind. Your heartbeat quickens as realization strikes: it’s a keyhole.
Any excitement you might feel at your discovery is spoiled by the fact a keyhole is useless without a key. You look at the laser gate, further disappointed as you contemplate the complexity of the tunnel system. There could be dozens of cells down here, potentially thousands of hiding places for Gideon to keep the key to the collar secure. Not to mention, you don’t even know what the key looks like. It could be hanging right outside the cell and you’d have no idea.
Lost in the sea of disparaging thoughts, you don’t notice the return of the baby crawling through the hole in the wall until he latches onto your foot. Startled, you barely manage to refrain from shouting a curse as you stare down at him. He giggles, clearly amused by your wide-eyed expression, and then slaps a silver plastic bag against your shin using the hand that isn’t gripping his favorite black cloth.
“Did you bring me a present?” you ask, taking a seat on the pallet and lifting him up onto your lap. This time when you reach forward, he willingly lets you take the item from him instead of trying to take a chunk out of your hand.
You tear open the plastic, revealing its contents to be five teal-colored cookies.
“Wow, bud,” you murmur, holding one up between pinched fingers. The treat smells distinctively like vanilla. From what you’ve witnessed, you doubt Gideon is the type to offer his prisoners dessert with their meals which means these were probably stolen from somewhere. “Where did you find these?”
The baby only babbles unintelligibly in response, gesturing with his free hand in the direction of somewhere beyond the laser gate. You nod along, feigning understanding, but your eyes can’t help but drift to his collar when he turns his head. The keyhole for his collar is smaller than you expect to see which has you quickly theorizing there is not one universal key for all of the collars. If that theory is true, then it raises the difficulty of escaping yet another level.
With a sigh you cram the cookie into your mouth, finding the tiniest smidge of joy in its crunchiness.
“When we get out of here I’ll buy you a dozen boxes of these,” you tell him once you’ve swallowed, offering him one of the cookies. He coos excitedly and takes a large bite, uncaring of the blue crumbs that rain down upon his coat. “And once Din sees you, I bet he’ll want to spoil you rotten, too. He has a not-so-secret soft spot for kids.”
The baby’s head tilts, reacting to the name-drop by making a confused gurgling sound around his mouthful.
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” you scold gently, tapping his nose with your finger and laughing under your breath when it proceeds to scrunch up in an adorable manner. Leaning your head back against the wall, you’re unable to keep the note of wistful longing out of your voice as you explain, “Din is my soulmate. To the rest of the world, he’s known as Death. They’ll have you believe he’s someone to be feared and avoided at all cost. But luckily I’m here to tell you the truth.”
He stares up at you, snack seemingly forgotten in favor of listening intently to every word coming out of your mouth. Distantly you think you should be a little scared by how intense his gaze is, as if he’s attempting to look past your skin to the soul beneath, but you remind yourself all babies are innately curious and don’t know it’s rude to stare.
“He’ll never admit to it himself, but underneath all that beskar armor, he is the most socially inept being in the galaxy. I swear, bud, the first time I met him I thought it was impossible for him to say more than two words or else he’d hurt himself.” Your lips twitch at the memory, the smallest of smiles you can make without it feeling forced. “Still, despite his horrible first impression, I couldn’t get him off my mind. I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, but—look, I know how crazy this sounds, okay? But I felt like I had to get to know him better. There was this voice in my head insisting we couldn’t just remain strangers. It took about ten thousand questions and three more meetings for me to earn his trust enough for him to take off his helmet and let me see his face.”
You take a deep breath and stroke your finger over the baby’s ears, needing to feel something other than the flaring pulse of pain from the bond. “One look at those beautiful brown eyes and I was done for.”
Saying Din’s eyes are brown feels sinful. It’s like saying the ocean is blue—accurate, but not detailed enough to describe its depth and volatility. There are days when his eyes are the shade of brown reminding you of leather bound journals—ancient and full of profound wisdom, meant to be admired and cherished for an entire lifetime. Other times, they are the kind of brown that matches your favorite chocolate pastry from the bakery down the street from your apartment—decadent and warm with the slightest hint of temptation.
“When we get out of here, Din will fly us far, far away,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the baby's resumed chewing. “I promise you we’ll all be happy together.”
And I’ll never get tired of seeing those brown eyes everyday.
~~
The hours start to bleed into one another. The baby snoozes in your lap, head pillowed on your thigh, but you have no idea if it’s night or day. Gideon had said he’d let you talk to Din ‘tomorrow’, but that doesn’t tell you how many days you’ve been here in total.
Your legs have started to feel numb from sitting in the same position so long, but the last thing you want is to wake him up by moving. The importance of him feeling safe enough to be vulnerable and sleep is not lost on you. His desire for attention and physical contact is so painfully obvious you hate thinking about how often he must have been ignored before your arrival.
As he sleeps, you’re unable to resist your curiosity any longer and carefully maneuver the piece of cloth out of his grip. Despite its aged and dirty appearance, it is still surprisingly soft to touch. Whatever article of clothing this was torn from must have been well-tailored, you think, imagining a hooded cloak or perhaps a long coat. Your nose twitches when you hold the cloth close to your face to better study it, reacting to the variety of odors embedded in the wool fibers. Maker knows how long the kid’s been dragging the fabric around with him without it being washed regularly, so you shouldn’t be surprised it has absorbed a couple dozen scents.
Still, the faint essence of smoke you detect swirls around in your brain even long after you’ve laid the cloth back over him like a makeshift blanket. Memories of your death start to resurface again despite your best mental efforts to push them away, causing your stomach to clench with nausea as you recall the horrific stench of charred remains.
It isn’t the same, you tell yourself, squeezing your eyes shut and forcing your head to clear itself. It can’t be because that day was fifty years ago and he’s only just a baby.
You repeat these thoughts like a mantra until, without meaning to, you fall into a dreamless sleep.
~~
You’re startled awake by hands seizing hold of your arms and pulling you up onto your feet without warning. You yelp at the sudden rush back to consciousness, brain scrambling to make sense of everything. Your eyes sweep the ground, panic washing over you like a bucket of cold water when you fail to see a tiny green body.
“It’s time, pet,” the twi’lek’s voice hits your ears and you turn to see her standing near the cell’s entrance, a lantern in one hand and a shiny blade in the other. “The Moff is expecting you.”
It takes you a minute to process in your frazzled state, but you realize it must be time to talk to Din. You’re shoved forward by whoever has your arms twisted behind your back, but you manage another quick survey of the cell. There is no sign the baby was ever here and you send a quick prayer to the Maker he had snuck back through the hole without anyone seeing him.
You have mixed feelings about not being blindfolded as you’re led through the underground labyrinth. On one hand, you get to observe everything and everyone you come across, making as many mental notes to flip through later when you’re alone. On the other, you think this must be an intimidation tactic. Gideon wants you to see everything so you know with absolute certainty how high the odds are stacked against you.
There are cells identical in appearance to yours on either side of you, carved into the tunnel rock and blocked from entry by laser gates. Except not one of them contains a prisoner. Either you have severely overestimated the size of Gideon’s collection, or he is purposefully keeping you separate from the rest for reasons known only to him.
Another surprising and unsettling observation you make is how many different types of species Gideon has employed as minions—human, rodian, trandoshan, you even spot a devaronian in the mix. Except for the Cupid twi’lek in front of you, everyone you come across is mortal. It does not make much sense to you why a seraph as powerful as Gideon is relying on mortal henchmen to help maintain control of his secret prison. Your gut instinct is insisting you’re missing a vital piece of information and you don’t like being in the dark about it.
The tunnel you’re being marched down eventually opens up into a larger cavernous space with several dozen lanterns hanging along the walls providing ample lighting. There are several crates spread about the area, and some have been pried open to reveal they are packed full of blasters and ammunition. You rack your brain trying to determine the purpose of the weapons. Yes, clearly, they are meant to cause havoc and destruction, but why are they here? Who or what is the target they will be aimed at?
Gideon stands in the middle of the room next to an empty chair. On his other side is a mortal human male, bald-headed with ginger facial scruff, who has two blaster pistols holstered around his chest and yet another one held by a droid arm attached to his backpack. Overkill much?
You’re shoved in the direction of the chair and gruffly told to sit. Huffing, you wordlessly obey and try not to squirm as all eyes lock onto you as if you’re going to perform a trick for their entertainment.
“You have a minute to record your message,” Gideon says, holding out a piece of paper towards you. “These words I have prepared must be included in those precious sixty seconds or you might find me reluctant to allow you to send a second recording.”
Is he serious? This isn’t the arrangement you previously discussed with him.
“Record?” you repeat, reluctantly taking the paper.
“I never said you would have the opportunity of speaking to Death face-to-face.” You want more than anything to tear the condescending smirk off his face with your fingernails. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that the mortal saying? You would know better than me, living amongst them in that quaint little apartment on Umbriel.”
Of course he knows about your home. Of kriffing course he does.
Heartbeat quickening, you avoid eye contact by scanning the few lines of words he’s written, eyebrows slowly inching up your forehead the more you read. “I don’t understand. This isn’t a demand to kill anyone. What does it mean?”
“Now is not the time for you to know,” he answers cryptically.
You shake your head, insisting, “Well maybe it should be. He knows me better than anyone. He’ll be able to tell I’m confused and—“
Gideon’s heavy sigh interrupts you. Then, quicker than you anticipate, he steps to the side of you and unsheathes his sword, its black blade positioned at your throat. It happens in one fluid movement, and the danger of your current predicament doesn’t sink in until the frightening humming notes of the weapon register in your eardrums seconds later. Your expressionless mask wavers, facial muscles tightening as you fail to refrain from flinching.
“All that is required from you, Cupid 1-1-7, is for you to speak from the heart and convince him to follow this one instruction. Do you think you can accomplish that?” he asks the question as if you have an actual choice. Like you can walk away now and there will be no hurt feelings.
But that is ridiculous. Everyone knows Cupids don’t get to have choices. Not when they are only given orders to obey.
You give him the tiniest of nods, careful not to let your skin make contact with the blade. “Yes, sir.”
“Then let’s begin.”
~~
The nav computer on the Razor Crest contains the coordinates of every moon and planet within each region of the galaxy. There is not one inch of space unknown to Din and yet his search for his angel continues to remain unsuccessful. He doesn’t consider the possibility of her being deceased for even half a second. As her soulmate he would have felt her passing the moment it happened. The bond he shares with his angel might be young and fragile still, but he doesn’t doubt her loss would eviscerate him in the same merciless manner he had done to Hess.
His inability to find her can only mean a powerful immortal is involved in her capture. As Death he roams the universe as a neutral entity. The only enemies he encountered—and he uses that term loosely—were foolish mortals thinking they could outlive their destined time by fighting him, only to ultimately meet their fated ends in the process. Prior to Hess’ demise, he had upheld his sworn creed to the universe and never once was tempted to defy the natural order or break a sacred rule.
Although admittedly strange to consider, the thought that maybe his angel’s capture isn’t meant to deliberately hurt him or her is one that keeps crossing his mind. Perhaps they are merely pieces in a game neither of them recognize nor want to willingly participate in.
As Din sits in the pilot’s seat, staring at the screen dispassionately through the visor of his helmet still coated with Hess’ blood, he is well-aware of Bo-Katan standing behind him, attempting to freeze him solid with her iciest glare.
She is the bravest of his reapers, unafraid to piss him off and counteract his opinions with her own. Yet ever since they left Hess’ body hanging in the warehouse and returned to the Crest, she’s not said one word to him, seemingly content to suffer in silence as a background presence while he contemplates whether he should be the one to track down the twi’lek Hess referenced or if he should have his reapers engage in the hunt.
“We’re going to talk about what happened,” Bo-Katan says coolly.
He grinds his teeth. “We will talk if and when I want to.”
“No.” She forcefully pulls at his chair, turning it around to face her. A snarl escapes him, animalistic and furious, but her green eyes don’t even blink, not the least bit intimidated. “You reaped a soul before it’s destined time. The universe isn’t going to easily forgive you for that. There will be consequences.”
“The only thing that matters is getting her back,” he answers. It’s the truth too. The second his angel was taken he knew there was not one rule he wouldn’t break to have her back in his arms—consequences be damned.
“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Bo-Katan asks, looking him over as if she no longer recognizes him. Her eyes linger just a second too long on his bloodstained gloves. “You’re losing your mind over a soulmate you’ve barely known a year.”
“Have you ever had someone you loved taken from you?” Din counters.
She scowls, eyes narrowing with loathing. “How dare you compare—”
“Answer the question!” he shouts, slamming his fist down on the armrest hard enough the metal creaks ominously.
“Yes.” Her chin dips briefly towards her chest as she takes a second to compose herself. “You know I have.”
Din does know. Hours prior to every major catastrophic event in the galaxy’s history he’s felt an invisible leash wrap around him, pulling him in the direction of the tragedy and demanding he be there to personally reap the souls of the victims in the aftermath. He had witnessed the destruction of Bo-Katan’s homeworld when it was ravaged by a series of bombings orchestrated by an unknown enemy. Thousands had been killed, including Bo-Katan’s sister.
He doesn’t let the silence stretch too long, voice unwavering as he says, “And if you had the chance, would you not kill the one responsible for your pain?”
“It wouldn’t bring her back. Not any of them.”
Din sighs, glancing away, but Bo-Katan surprises him not even ten seconds later, apparently unfinished.
“I’d still do it though,” she says, not sounding the least bit guilty for admitting to hypothetical murder. “I’d carve the heart out of whoever set off those bombs and force-feed it to them.”
“We’re more alike than you may think,” Din says. “Think about that before you question my actions again.”
Any potential response from his reaper is interrupted by the beeping of an incoming transmission. He turns his chair at once, noticing the recorded message’s origin source is a random scrambling of letters and numbers. Every instinct is telling him he won’t like what he sees, but his hand reaches forward anyways, as if possessed by an unseen force, and presses the button to view the recording.
His angel appears as a holographic figure and immediately his eyes zero in on the collar around her neck. Anger threatens to course through his veins again, but Din forces his lungs to draw in a deep breath. Now is not the time to unleash his temper. Now is the time to listen and commit every word she says to memory, to study her every feature for any sign she’s been hurt.
“Death,” she begins, and his entire body tenses at the use of his title and not his name. It’s been so long since she’s addressed him as such, he knows it can’t be accidental. “I hope this message reaches you wherever you are. More than anything I wish I could be with you right now. I’m so sorry I broke my pinky promise to you, sweetheart. The way our bond is...I hate to think you’re feeling as much pain as I do.”
Din’s heart shatters when she starts to anxiously rub at her soulmate marking, sniffling quietly. His fingers itch with the overwhelming longing to hold her hand.
“I’m not safe here. What they’ve threatened to do to me...it scares me. I-I need to ask you a favor, a very important one.” A few teardrops escape the corners of her eyes and drip down her cheeks. Din bites the inside of his mouth so harshly he tastes blood. “If you want to protect me, then you must let go.”
The transmission goes dead.
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Text
Long distance
Summary: Falling in love with an Army Captain just weeks before he had to leave again, wasn’t something she had planned on. And Sy didn’t even know how much he wanted to have a family until she told him she was pregnant 2 months into his deployment.
Pairing: Syverson / Reader
Wordcount: 4.2k
Warnings: fluff; implied smut
A/N: I think this might be the longest fic I wrote that doesn’t include any actual smut. Let’s see if people read it anyways lol
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His palms were sweaty. His heart was beating a hundred miles a minute. He could feel the tiredness in his bones. Not only from the flight, but from the last 8 months. His last 8 months of being in the army. Now he was standing here, in front of the door that separated him from the real world. This wasn’t fear he was feeling. This was pure excitement. He had always wondered in the many years he served, how he would feel when he stepped through these doors for the last time, coming back from deployment. 
He pictured himself not knowing what to do with himself. Maybe he would build houses again, like he did back when he was younger with his father. Before he died. His brother had taken over the family business. He wanted to spend time with his brother. His family. Shaking his head Sy smiled to himself.
What he never would have thought was that after 8 months he would come back to a girlfriend he met only 6 weeks before he had to leave for his last deployment. And what Sy never would have even dared to dream off were the two twin baby girls he was about to meet for the first time. His twin girls.
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10 months ago
“Sy….” She looked at him. The man she only met two weeks ago. He looked peaceful in his deep slumber. His face relaxed. Slowly her fingers brushed over his cheek, seeing him frown.
“Sy… Wake up.” She whispered, her face coming closer to kiss his cheek.
She heard him groan, his arm pulling her even closer than she already was, making her chuckle.
“Sy you told me to wake you up. Now….” She turned in his arms, crawling on top of him. “Wake up.” She kissed his nose, his forehead, his eyes, his chin. Slowly his eyes fluttered open. Tired blue eyes looked up at her.
“Why is your naked body on top of my naked body?” He asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
“Oh… I don’t know….” She grinned, pushing her boobs against his chest, making him groan. She could feel just how much he was enjoying this on her lower belly.
“Apparently you sleep like a stone, Captain.” She teased, making him smirk.
“You kinda wore me out last night, Peach.” His big hands landed on her ass.
“Oh… I’m sorry Captain Syverson. I’ll keep in mind to stop you the next time you drag me to your bed…” She pushed herself up. Sy looked up at her. The early sunrise made her appear like an angel. His angel.
“So why did you want me to wake you this morning?” She asked. It was sunday, and it was before 8 am. He knew that she was always up early. They had met only 2 weeks ago in the local grocery store. She had moved here only a couple months before for her job. Working as a english teacher at the local school.
He looked so out of place in his red shirt and cargo pants, standing in front of the ice cream, trying to decide for a flavour.
“You look like a nut kind of guy.” Were the first words she had ever spoken to him.  He had looked at her, with the intention of probably ignoring her words, when his eyes met hers. She had felt it there too. Like being struck by lightning through her whole body. She had invited him for ice cream the very next day. 
Shaking her head she thought it was best not to dwell on the past weeks and instead focus on the time they had left before Sy had to leave. She raised her eyebrow at him.
“I wanted you to wake me, so we can do this.” He grinned, before he pulled her down against his chest, his lips finding hers as he turned her so she was on her back with him on top of her.
“Let’s wear us both out some more, hm?” He whispered against her lips as his hand parted her legs.
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9 months ago
Goodbyes were not something Sy was used to. Sure he said goodbye to his brother before he went back to wherever the Army wanted him. But this was the first time his heart felt this heavy as he had to leave. 
She looked beautiful in the driver's seat, focused on the street as she drove him to the airport as he held her hand. He had told her he loved her only three days ago. Never in his life had he told a woman he loved her, but he loved her. 
“Stop staring at me, Cap.” She mumbled, her words followed by a yawn. They had spent the whole night making love to each other. He knew she wasn’t wearing any underwear under the thin summer dress she had put on to drive him to the airport, and he desperately tried not to think of how easy it would be….
“I’m serious Sy.” She looked at him from her side. He grinned to himself, turning his head to look out of the window where he could already see the base approaching. 
“Can’t blame me for looking at you, Peach.” He said. 
The rest of the drive they were silent, hanging on to their own thoughts. He almost jumped in his seat when the car stopped and she killed the engine.
Turning in her seat she looked at him.
“I can’t believe I’m one of those girls…” She whispered, looking at him.
“One of what girls?” He asked, turning towards her.
“One of these girls who say don’t forget me when you’re away.” She sucked her bottom lip in, and he could see the unshed tears in her eyes. He shook his head, as he leaned towards her, kissing her deeply. He breathed her in, his hand on the back of her head, his fingers feeling the silk of her hair. 
“I’ll be back before you know it.” He whispered against her lips.
“Promise?” She asked. He nodded, kissing her again. Forehead against forehead they looked into each other’s eyes, savouring the last touches before Sy smiled.
“Don’t dump me for some third grader from your school. I know they are cuter than I am.” 
“Idiot.” She slapped his chest.
“Your idiot.” He grinned.
“I love you.” She whispered.
“I love you too.” He kissed her again, before he breathed in deep and opened the passenger’s door of the car.
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8 months ago
“I was doing laundry today and for some reason, some of my panties seem to be missing.” She said. Sy was laying on his bed, his phone propped on his chest as he looked at her on the little screen. It was the middle of the night back at home, yet she always took time to talk to him, no matter the hour he called.
“Hmm…” He hummed, biting his lip in deep thought.
“You are so full of shit.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes with a smile.
“Don’t speak to your Captain like that.” He said sternly, his eyebrow raised, while his hand searched for the flimsy piece of fabric he stole from her, holding it in front of the camera.
“You're not my captain, Sy. You are a thief.” She let her head fall against the mattress, groaning.
“You okay, Peaches?”
“Yeah. Everything’s fine. Just a little unwell.”
“I wish I could be there for you.”
“But you are, Sy.” She smiled, turning in her bed. He saw her get under the covers, her head resting on her pillow.
“Talk to me until I’m asleep?” She asked.
“Of course.” He smiled.
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7 months ago
Call me as soon as you can.
The message reached him in the middle of a mission. He only found the time to answer her two days later. The reception had been shit the last couple of days, so as soon as he was back at the base he excused himself and grabbed the satellite phone, dialing her number. 
“Oh my god Sy.” He heard the relief in her voice.
“Hey Peach. Everything okay?” He asked, closing the door behind him.
“I was worried when you didn’t answer.” She said. He sighed.
“I was on a mission in the middle of nowhere. So… You okay?” He asked again. He was met with silence on the other end of the line.
“Sy I’m pregnant.” The whole world seemed to stop as he heard those words. Blinking, he looked out of the dusty window of his office.
“You’re pregnant.” He repeated, at loss of words.
“With Twins Sy. You knocked me up with twins.” He could hear her crying. The ability to form words seemed to have left him. Here he was. Thousands of miles away from the woman he loved. The pregnant woman that he loved.
“Sy?” She asked quietly.
“Sorry. I’m just… surprised?” He asked.
“You’re not upset?”
“Why would I be upset?”
“Because we only know each other for like 3 months and you’ve been gone almost half of those.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that I love you. You and our two… fuck. I’m gonna be a dad.” He ran a hand to his short hair.
“But… How? I mean we only had sex without a condom once and I made sure to pull out…”
“Apparently not fast enough Cap.” She sighed.
“How do you feel?” He asked her.
“How do I feel? Scared? Overwhelmed? Hungry? I have no idea how I feel. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. But… We’re gonna be okay. You. Me. The babies.” Sy said.
“You’re in on this? You won’t leave me alone with this mess?”
“I love you, Peach. We’re in this together.”
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6 months ago
“I swear to god if you weren’t so far away I would slap your head.” She groaned, but had a small smile on her lips.
“Peach... “ Sy grinned. He was sitting in his office, about to have a briefing, but he wanted to see her before that. What he didn’t count in was her answering him completely naked.
“What? My boobs hurt. These little beans sure do start producing their food early.”
“God I wish I was there. I would find a way to make you feel better….” He hummed. He could feel his pants becoming uncomfortably tight as she kept the camera on her upper body.
“Such as?” She asked.
“Mhh…. Massaging your whole body as long as you can still lay on your stomach… Making you forget about your boobs by making you cum…” He whispered. He could see her blushing, her nipples hardening.
“I hate you.” She pouted. He smiled.
“I love you too.”
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5 months ago
“Dismissed.” Sy said. The men in front of him nodded and turned around, leaving one by one until only he remained. He sighed as he looked at the clock. Right about now a doctor would find out if they were having boys or girls. Or both. 
It was getting harder and harder for him to actually focus on the work he was sent here to do. His thoughts now always went back to, was he doing the right thing? Could he get home earlier to be with the woman he loved? Those weren’t thoughts he was used to. 
Before her, there was no way he would even think of going home earlier. He was going to  have a week off in a month, just in time for her birthday and he planned to surprise her. He already put his brother on packing his stuff. 
They talked about that it would be for the best if Sy moved in with her. She had the bigger house, and frankly he didn’t care where he lived, as long as he was close to her. Sy also thought about asking her to marry him. Because that was the thing people did when they were expecting, was it? But he wanted to do it right. And not just because it was the right thing to do. He loved her, there was no question in his mind about it. But if she agreed to be his wife, she deserved the wedding she always dreamed off. Even if he had no idea what she dreamed off, because that topic never came up in their conversations. A video call interrupted his train of thoughts. Answering the call on his laptop, he could feel himself getting nervous.
“Hey Cap.” He heard her voice, before the picture connected. She was still wearing the hospital robe.
“Hey Peach. How are you?” He asked.
“Tired, but excited. We’re about to find out what we’re having.” She smiled.
“We are?” He asked. She nodded at him, as someone took her phone. 
“Hey bro.” He saw his brother’s face before the camera showed her laying next to the ultrasound.
“Hello Captain Syverson. Are you ready?” The doctor asked.
“I’m excited.” He breathed, looking at the love of his life. He could already see that she was crying.
“Don’t cry, Peach. Dan, Goddamn it take her hand.” Sy said. He heard his brother chuckle, before Dan took her hand.
“Okay. Ready?” The doctor asked. Sy only nodded. He never even thought he would have the opportunity to be there. At that moment. He wanted to kiss her for including him. 
A sound he never heard before reached his ears.
“Strong heartbeat from both, as expected.” The doctor said. Sy smiled. He was hearing his babies’ heartbeats.
“They both look very strong, just like we want them to.” The doctor continued. 
“They are so big already.” She sighed.
“Still a long way to go though.” His brother said.
“Yeah. We’re around halfway through, still a lot of growing to look forward to. Now… Are you guys ready to find out what you’re having?” 
“Yeah.” She said, looking straight at the camera. He only nodded.
“Okay… Let’s see…” The camera switched to the little screen of the ultrasound. He could see the doctor’s finger pointing.
“Yup. There’s no doubt. You are having twin girls.” He heard the voice of the doctor.
“Girls?” She and him asked at the same time.
“Girls.” The doctor repeated.
“Wow.” Sy said.
“I love you so much, baby.” She took the camera and he could see her big smile and the happy tears in her face.
“I love you too, Peach.” He smiled back, wishing nothing more than being there so he could kiss her.
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4 months ago
Today Sy would move in with her. They talked everything through and organized his stuff being moved to her place. What she didn’t know was that Sy would indeed be there for the move and her birthday the next day.
“She’s gonna freak out.” Dan said as he hugged his brother, after picking him up from the airport with the moving truck.
“I hope in a good way.” He sighed.
“Please. She’s so in love with you. I never once heard her complain about anything, and I’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately to organize your move and help her.”
“I know. It’s just… Why is this happening now, and not in half a year, when I’m here to help?”
“Because life has its own plan, big brother.” Dan smiled.
“Sissy, we’re here. I brought some help.” Dan called as he opened the door for Sy to step in.
“I’ll be right down. I felt like I need to pee for the millionth time today.” She called back, making Sy chuckle.
“You have an hour before all the helpers show up. I’ll be back then too.” Dan whispered to him, squeezing Sy’s shoulder.  He nodded, watching his brother leave as he slowly walked further into the house. He had been here often enough before he had to leave, yet he could see the little changes. She was making space for his stuff in her living room. 
Apparently they would keep his couch, because hers was nowhere to be seen. On the dinner table were so many pink congratulations cards. He picked one up, his thumb brushing over the glitter writing of “It’s two girl!” the “a” being crossed out on the card and a two written over instead. He smiled. He would be back in 3 ½ months just in time to see his girls being born. He would live in a house full of girls and he couldn’t wait for it.
“Dan, do you think it’s okay if I order just some pizza later? I really didn’t feel like….” He heard her voice behind her, followed from a gasp. Turning around, he smiled.
“Surprise?” He shrugged
“Oh my god, Sy.” She whispered, before she practically jumped into his arms. He pulled her close, his nose in her hair, as he breathed her in deeply.
“Hey, Peach.” He whispered.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, her hands coming up to frame his face.
“Took a week off to be here for your birthday.” He said. He looked in between them, down to her growing belly. Slowly his hands ran down, until both of them lay on her belly.
“This is really happening.” He whispered, before he looked up at her again.
“You bet it is.” She smiled before she pulled him down so she could kiss him.
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3 months ago
“I’m so tired Sy.” She groaned. “These girls are always having a party just when I am about to fall asleep.” 
Sy looked at her on his tiny phone. They had a visit from some military officers today and he had to shave. This was the only time he had to talk to her this week.
“Want me to talk to them?” He asked.
“You think they’re gonna listen to you?” She asked, chuckling.
“Hey, I’m their Dad. They better start listening to me.”
“Allright.” She grinned, changing the angle on her phone so it was laying on top of her belly.”
“Talk to them, baby.” He heard her say. Sy smiled.
“Girls. Leave your mommy to get some rest. She needs her sleep so you can grow to be healthy and happy little girls.” Sy said. He heard her laugh, before he saw her face again.
“I think it might be working, they stopped.” She shook her head.
“See? Already listening to their dad.” He grinned, putting the razor down.
“You look sexy like that.” She whispered.
“Like what?”
“Without a shirt. God I’m so horny all the time lately….” She sighed. He crocked his eyebrow.
“I thought the five days we spent in bed when I was there would had helped you with that.”
She shook your head.
“I just want to be fucked. I get wet looking at the weirdest things lately….”
Sy groaned.
“Don’t make me quit my last job just to come and fuck you.”
“Would you?”
“I would do anything for you, Peach.”
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2 months ago
“I have bad news.” Sy groaned on the phone. He tried everything to not have to do this. He argued with everyone about it but there was no getting out of it. Frustrated he ran a hand over his short hair.
“What is it?” He heard her ask.
“I have to stay for a month longer, cause the Captain after me has to have surgery and won’t recover in time.”
“You won’t be here when the girls are born?” She asked.
“I’m so, so sorry, Peach. I tried everything. I talked to everyone. There’s no way of changing it.” 
“It’s not fair.” He could hear her sniff.
“I know.” He sighed.
“I want their daddy to be there when they are born. I want you to hold my hand. I need you, Sy.” She whispered. It broke his heart to hear her like that.
“I’m so sorry Peach.” He sighed.
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3 weeks ago
It was the middle of the night when Sy was woken up by his phone. He tended to sleep on his phone lately, waiting for his Love to go into labour. Blinking his eyes open he searched for his phone before he answered.
“Baby?” He heard a weak whisper, followed from a grunt in pain.
“I’m here, Peach. What’s going on?” He asked, being awake immediately.
“It’s time. The babies are coming.”
He tried to stay on the phone the whole time. Yet he missed the actual moment of his girls being born because he had to work. He missed their first cry. Their first bath. The first time being held by their mother. But this was not the time to be sorry about everything he missed. He never had to leave them again, to be so far away. They had both agreed that it would be best if the babies stayed at home with Dan. Breathing in deep he stepped forward, the door opening for him. Immediately his eyes found hers. A bright smile graced her lips as she saw him. Quickly he walked over to her, letting his bags fall to the ground, catching her in his arms as she jumped, her lips connecting with his.
“I missed you. So much.” She whispered, clinging to him.
“Missed you more.” He whispered back.
“Okay let’s go home. I’ve only been gone for half hour, and I’m already going insane and feel like the worst mother ever.” She sighed.
“You are the best mother ever.” Sy said, picking his bags up from the floor as she began to walk towards the exit.
“And you’ll be the best dad.” She smiled.
It was a short ride from the airport to his new home. He could feel himself getting nervous the closer they got. And when she parked her car in the driveway he was a nervous mess.
“What if they don’t like me? They have no idea who I am?” He whispered. She killed the engine turning in her seat, taking his hand.
“They will love you, Sy. You are their father. The best father they could have dreamed of.” She kissed his cheek. 
“Okay. Let’s go and meet my girls.”
He followed quietly after she opened the door. Taking his shoes off, he grew more excited and nervous the deeper they got into the house. He could hear his brother’s voice.
“Oh there are my baby girls.” She whispered as they walked into the nursery.
“Were you the best girls for your uncle Dan?” She asked.
“They always are.” Dan answered. Sy stepped in, seeing Dan kneel on the floor, with his back to him. He turned around.
“Hey big bro.” He said, getting up. He hugged him quickly, but Sy didn’t really acknowledge anything as he looked at the two babies laying on a soft yellow blanket on the floor.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Dan said.
“Thank you for watching them.” She called.
“Always. I’ll be over for dinner tomorrow, yeah?”
“See you then.” She called, sitting down on the floor. Sy just stood there, staring down.
“Come on now. Meet your daughters.” She smiled. He looked at her, then slowly got closer and sat down on the floor.
He had seen the many pictures she had sent to him but nothing compared to the sheer beauty of the two girls laying in front of him. Slowly he reached his hands out, brushing with his fingers over their cheeks.
“Meet your Daddy, Maya and Eva.” He looked up at her, as she picked Maya up. 
“Come sit in the armchair.” She said to Sy, who still wasn’t able to form any word. He got up to sit in the chair as she carefully put Maya in his left arm. In awe, and afraid to drop her he looked down at his girl. His right hand carefully brushing over the little girls cheek. 
“And here is Eva.” She said, wanting to put her in his other arm.
“No. Come sit on my lap with her in your arms. I wanna have all my girls with me.” He whispered. Softly she smiled, sitting down in his lap, Maya in her arms as his arm came around her waist looking down at both of his baby girls. 
“They are beautiful.” He whispered.
“They are. And right now they are very calm. I don’t think I have seen them this calm.” She whispered back. 
“They are so tiny.” 
“Yeah. But they are gonna grow up.”
“Not on my watch.” He said, making her chuckle. They continued to sit like that for a while, until Eva grew a bit restless.
“I think someone’s hungry.” She said, bringing her knuckle to the little girl's lips who began to suck immediately.
“Can I…” Sy asked looking up at her.
“Let’s go to bed, so I can nurse them both, yeah?” She asked. He nodded and she kissed his forehead, before she got up from his lap.
Sy fell asleep in the arms of the woman he loved more than his own life that night. The woman he only met a year ago, but gave him everything he ever dreamed of.
“I love you, Peach.” He murmured before he dozed off.
“I love you more, Captain.” She smiled back, before she dozed off too.
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laequiem · 3 years
Text
Cheek to Cheek in Hell - Chapter 5
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Fandom: The Folk of the Air
Pairing: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Rating: explicit
Word count: 1,508
Cardan is an idiot. That is the only explanation for this clownery.
fanfiction masterlist • ao3
Chapter 4 • next chapter • Cheek to Cheek masterpost
Chapter 5. no man's land
Jude POV
Cardan is an idiot.
That is the only explanation for this clownery.
Surely, he knows I have seen him high before. He is always intoxicated, I fail to see how this is any different. Yet, he let himself be poisoned slowly, simply because he did not want me to see him consume.
Idiot. Idiot.
I repeat it to myself as I hear the telltale sound of him inhaling the powder.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
I look towards the man he has put to sleep. If he hadn’t been so stupid, we would be rid of him. I hate seeing one of the folk using glamour on unexpecting mortals, but we can’t have this man wake up here. Cardan should have sent him to get lost in an imaginary maze and told him to forget everything.
Instead, we’re stuck with a sleeping man who knows he has been put to sleep by some pale teenager after crossing a brick wall straight to no man’s land.
I sigh. Should we throw him out of the alley, put the glamour back up and hope he forgets?
Bribe him? We certainly don’t have the money for this.
Threaten him? Would I kill someone to keep my freedom? No. I have done horrible things, but I would not kill someone again unless they deserved it.
The person who deserves it the most stirs behind me. Cardan hobbles towards the sleeping man, kneels and starts emptying the man’s pockets. I rush to his side.
“What are you doing?” I ask, appalled.
“We need money, don’t we?” he replies matter-of-factly, not even looking at me.
I cross my arms. “We can’t just steal from him.”
He turns to me now, lifting a perfect brow. “Oh, so now you’re a preacher of virtue?”
My lip pulls back in a snarl, and he snorts. He takes out a thick leather wallet from the man’s pockets—thick with bills. Cardan gets back up and hands it to me.
“He followed you here, Jude,” he tells me as I grab it. “I doubt his intentions were good.”
“What do you know about good intentions?” I bite back and he rolls his eyes. I nod towards the pizza box, “Now that you’re well enough to be a jerk, eat.”
Cardan walks back to his little corner behind the dumpster as I open the wallet. I stare at the thick stack of green bills, my heart thumping wildly in my chest.
Don’t get your hopes up, I tell myself, maybe they’re all one dollar bills.
Except they’re clearly not.
“What is that?” Cardan asks, and I turn to him.
He is staring at the open pizza box, his head inclined to the side as he inspects the contents.
“Pizza,” I reply. “Just eat.”
I take out the bills and start counting.
This man has a few hundred dollar bills. I have never seen those in my entire life.
1500$.
I cannot stop the smile that forms on my face as I turn back to Cardan.
And when I see what he has done to the pizza, I laugh and he looks up from his work.
“What?” he asks, and I just laugh harder.
Tears prick at my eyes. It’s the kind of hysterical laugh that only comes from your life being completely absurd. From finding the money you need to rent a place, then seeing the boy you hate remove all the pepperoni from a pizza and stack them like a reconstituted sausage. Cardan takes a bite out of the thing.
I start to calm down as he finishes up his strange pepperoni mille-feuille.
“There’s over a thousand in there,” I tell him between long breaths.
“I assume that’s good?”
I grab the newspaper I had before I went out to the get the pizza, flipping through it to find the apartments, “It’s enough to rent a place.”
I spend hours looking through the papers, tearing out the ads of places we can afford. At one point, the man stirs and Cardan goes up to him. As if it were second nature, he orders him to leave and forget he ever saw our faces. The man, in a daze, follows his orders and leaves the alley, straight through the illusionary brick wall.
Cardan sits in his corner most of the day, sometimes staring at me, sometimes tearing small chunks of pizza to eat. I find it too endearing to show him how to eat it properly.
When the sun is at its highest, I rehearse the speech I will give the landlords on the phone.
“Hello, my friend and I would be interested in visiting the place you are renting.”
The words feel so strange. They should feel mundane to my human tongue, but they are words I never thought I would utter. Not when I thought I would spend the rest of my days in Elfhame, fighting for my right to be there.
I do not know how to define my relationship to Cardan. I try so many different options, and I can’t bear to look at him as I say the things that can only be labelled as lies.
My roommate. My boyfriend. My husband. My… partner? They’re all lies, all wrong.
My worst enemy is not something a landlord would want to hear.
When I finally make the first call, I don’t mention Cardan.
“Hi, I saw your ad and I wanted to know if the apartment is still available.”
By the time the sun comes down, I have a good schedule of places to visit in the Bronx tomorrow.
When I am done, I join Cardan by his dumpster to finally eat some of the cold pizza.
Cardan reaches for a piece after I do, his dark eyes watching my every movement intently. He copies the way I eat it, holding the crust and supporting the underside of the slice as I bite into it.
It’s still delicious, even cold and pepperoni-less. Unconsciously, I let out a small content sigh.
“What is your favorite mortal food?” Cardan asks, breaking the thick silence.
I purse my lips as I think. Pizza is really high up there. Otherwise… There are very few things I remember from my time in the Mortal Realm. Except for one that never left me.
“My mom used to make these pastries,” I say, nostalgic, “pastéis de nata. They’re little tarts filled with egg custard. I haven’t had them since…” I trail off. Since she was murdered. “I’d like to try them again, see if they’re as good as I remember them.”
“Perhaps we can find a place here that makes them,” he offers.
I don’t know why, but the proposition makes me smile. “Perhaps,” I repeat after him.
When I reach for the last piece, I notice Cardan was also reaching for it, but he pulled back before grabbing it.
We don’t do much for the rest of the night. We don’t talk either. We just sit in silence, the thrum of the bustling city a constant melody outside our dirty alleyway.
After relieving myself behind a dumpster and making a mental note to buy tampons tomorrow, I make my way to my makeshift bed.
I climb over the dumpster Cardan sleeps behind, then swing myself over the railing of the lowest landing of the emergency stairs. The corner I have been sleeping in for the last week is nothing fancy. Flat cardboard lines the cold metal and I have stuffed my dirty clothes in a garbage bag to use as a pillow. No blanket, since I only found one and Cardan needed it more than me.
I lay down on my cardboard and try to tune out the sounds of the city. Faraway, an ambulance blares its song. Cars honk, streetlights buzz, people talk and yell and cheer and—
The landing shakes as silent feet land next to me.
I turn on my back and open my eyes, only to be met with Cardan’s tall, dark form standing over me like Death incarnate.
“What are you—” I start asking, a little panicked until I see the blanket in his hands. I frown. “Keep it. I’m fine.”
Cardan rolls his eyes, then swings the blanket over me.
“You’re cold,” he says. A corner of the blanket lifts and he slips under it too, “and I have been told I am burning.”
I had not noticed how much I was shivering until his warm arm snakes around my waist and he shifts closer to me. The other one slides under the garbage bag I use as a pillow.
His hips are flush against my backside, sharp hipbones digging into my cheeks. He tangles one of his legs around mine.
“This is just for warmth,” he whispers to himself.
I breathe deeply.
“You are very warm,” I confirm.
“Does it make up for the burden of bringing me along?” he asks me, and I feel him smile against my hair.
“Just an idiot,” I say softly as I drift away to sleep, “not a burden.”
-----
tag list: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thefolkofthefic @figonas @kingandfireheart @godgavemelou @lizziebxnnet @hazelsheartsworn @jurdannet
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quirklessthot · 3 years
Text
do as i say;
[ shinsou x reader ]
i love your work!! especially the hawks “punishment piece” and i see that your requests are open... so maybe a yandere hitoshi fic with some punishment vibes?? spanking, crying, maybe some spicy mind control??? thank u for writing!!! -anonymous
warnings: 18+, noncon, spanking, mind control
Your hands shake as you pull out a bobby pin, small and inconspicuous - the literal key to your freedom. You'd thought an angel was smiling down on you the day you found the innocent piece of metal lying discarded and forgotten under the living room couch. Without a second thought, you had snatched it up, holding it close to your chest like a secret that needed protecting. It wasn't easy keeping your discovery from Shinsou as you waited for the perfect opportunity to use it, but somehow you'd managed, and now is the time to act.
The pin completely misses the keyhole and falls out of your hand and into your lap. You curse, low and panicked, even though you're alone, and pick it up to try again. As terrified as you are, with your heart thumping almost painfully against your ribcage, you don't have time to fumble around. Shinsou has a frustratingly unpredictable schedule. He moves in and out of the apartment without so much as a hint as to where he goes or how long he'll be away.
This time you manage to successfully insert the pin into the keyhole. You jiggle the bobby pin, searching for the first of the small metal cylinders of the lock's pins. The clicking sound really solidifies the situation in your mind. You're almost overcome with tears at the elation you're feeling. But that could wait for after you break out of this hellhole and get to somewhere safe. You plan on going straight to the first police station you can find. With any luck, the officers there will believe your story of being kidnapped and held prisoner in the so-called hero's home and have the son-of-a-bitch thrown in jail.
The lock clicks, the door swings open, the world seems to slow down for you as panic begins to claw its way up your throat. You don't even have the sense about you to get off of the floor where you're crouched down on your knees. You stare blankly at the pair of dark jeans-clad legs in front of you.
Shinsou's eyes move from the lock you were fiddling with to the distorted, bent bobby pin clutched between your trembling fingers. "What are you doing?" he asks, although judging by his tone, you can tell he already knows the answer to that question.
His voice brings you out of your panic-induced haze. You don't answer, choosing instead to back away, scramble to your feet, and bolt. You're not sure where exactly you plan to escape to - the only door is the one you were trying to break through and Shinsou keeps all of the windows under heavy lock and key. There's nowhere to go, but your fight-or-flight instincts have already kicked in and even your body knows that you stand no chance in a fight against the underground pro hero.
After closing and locking the door (making a mental note to get a couple more locks) Shinsou takes off his shoes, hangs up his coat, and makes his way after you. He doesn't hurry – his pace is slow, measured, almost leisurely.
You can hear him moving about from your hiding spot, calling out your name every so often as if looking for a pet that's ripped up the couch and is now hiding from a scolding. Dread twists your insides as you sit and wait for the inevitable.
You let out a terrified scream at the hand wrapping around your ankle, not expecting him to have found you so quickly. You're dragged from your hiding spot and hauled up by a harsh grip on your upper arm, colliding painfully with the wall of muscles that is Shinsou Hitoshi.
"Kitten,” he begins, voice filled with disappointment. “You know you shouldn't be playing with the locks. Now I have to punish you. You understand, right?"
He looks at you, eyebrows raised as if expecting an answer, but you stay silent, offering nothing more than a watery glare. Shinsou sighs, rolling his eyes. You're too stubborn for your own good. The grip on your arm tightens and Shinsou drags you into the bedroom. Not even bothering to turn on the light, he takes a seat on the bed, roughly pulling you to lie across his lap.
"How many do you think you deserve?”
When you don't answer, Shinsou lets out an irritated huff and smacks you hard on your ass. The sting catches you completely off guard and with the little protection your shorts offer, it hurts enough to leave you hissing.
Another smack echoes loudly in the room, immediately followed by a barely restrained squeal from you. But still, you refuse to speak; no matter what you're not going to answer any of the seemingly innocent questions he continues to ask. You're not going to give in. But apparently, neither is Shinsou. His palm is heavy as he continues to spank you, one right after another, with hardly a break in between and with no apparent end in sight. Your attempts to wrestle out of his grip are met with a warning to keep still and an especially harsh smack on the bottom curve of your cheeks. You seize up, choking back a cry. You didn't think this could get any more painful.
Shinsou ignores your thrashing, pushing your hands away when he moves to pull your shorts and underwear down, so each hit now makes direct contact with your skin. And it's so much worse. You're openly sobbing now; hot tears spill down your cheeks as cries are ripped from your throat. Your skin is throbbing, white-hot pain racing through you with every quickened beat of your heart.
Your entire body is shaking. It's too much. You feel as though you're going to break.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, after what feels like a thousand spanks.
You let out a sob that wracks your entire body. "Yes! Yes, plea--"
Immediately your words come to a halt and your body stills under his quirk's effect taking hold. Your mind is still racing, but no matter how much you will it, your limbs refuse to move. Your tears have stopped, and your once erratic breathing is now deep and calm. You're not even sniffling anymore. Your eyes – pupils white and lifeless - stare blankly ahead of you.
Shinsou places a hand on your head, rubbing with a soft affection that would have you lashing out if you could. "Good girl. Now, get on your knees."
Before your brain can even fully process the command you're already sliding off of Shinsou's lap, knees hitting the wooden floor. You sit obediently between his spread legs, awaiting your next command.
"Open your mouth."
Without hesitation, your mouth falls open. You can't react when he pinches your tongue between his fingers and pulls on the wet muscle, leaving it to hang listlessly over your bottom lip. You watch as he brings his hands down to unbuckle his belt. Any other time the hiss of his zipper would have sent you running in the opposite direction. But in your hypnotized state, you just sit on your knees still as a statue as saliva collects on your tongue to drip down your chin.
Once Shinsou has his cock out, he spends a few seconds fisting himself as he studies at your blank face. You can tell that he's already forgiven you, the dying embers of anger in his eyes quickly give way to lust. There's a smirk tugging at his lips…
You want to scream when he puts a hand on the back of your head to pull you closer to his dick, but you go without complaint, dutifully wrapping your lips around the leaking head as soon as he commands you to suck him off. You're bobbing your head in his lap, giving little choked sounds every time you take him nice and deep, just the way he likes it.
Shinsou sighs, placing a hand on the top of your head. He doesn't pull on your hair or attempt to direct your movements. He instead sits there and enjoys the warm, wet heat of your mouth and the tightness of your throat. The room is silent save for Shinsou's occasional breathy moan and the wet sound of you gagging on his cock.
"That's it, beautiful, get it all the way in," he groans, biting into his bottom lip. "You love sucking my cock don't you?"
It's a pointless question - your reply comes as mindless gurgling - but Shinsou doesn't seem to mind your lack of an answer. He just grunts as he cants his hips, pushing himself even deeper down your throat.
Your jaw aches with the strain and you hope that his increasingly desperate humping signals his release. Just before he's about to cum, however, Shinsou's pulling you away with a firm grip on your hair. Your mouth hangs open, the bottom half of your face shiny with saliva and precum.
"Fuck, baby, you're perfect." He's panting, chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. "Get up and strip for me."
And you do, lifting the oversized shirt over your head as you stand, your shorts soon follow, and then you're standing before him completely bare. More than anything, you want to lift your arms and cover your breasts, to shield them away from your captor's leering gaze but your arms stay by your sides, allowing him to fully take you in.
"I'm a little tired tonight." Shinsou's eyes barely leave your body as he rids himself of his own clothing. He moves up to the head of the bed, sinking into the comfortable pile of pillows there. "Ride me."
Mindlessly, you climb onto the bed, taking his saliva-slicked cock in your hand and lining it up with your wet slit. You sink down at a slow pace until you're seated fully in his lap, face not giving so much as a twitch at the intrusion despite the lack of preparation. Your hands move to stabilize yourself on his chest as your hips begin to rock.
"Faster, kitten," Shinsou purrs, hands moving to grip your hips. "Fuck me like you mean it."
Immediately, your pace picks up until you're bouncing on his dick. He's getting lost in the moment, head thrown back as he curses and moans. Your face is blank, devoid of any emotions despite the almost mind-numbing pleasure you're feeling.
It’s not long before Shinsou is muttering a quiet curse under his breath and holds you flat against him, stilling your movements to fill you up.
You're not sure if he does it on purpose or if he simply lost his grip because of his orgasm but you can feel the control on your mind falter and slip. All at once, control over your body comes back to you, and every muted sensation is back in full force. You can feel everything – the cool night air on your sweat-soaked skin, the stretch of Shinsou's cock inside you, the stinging pain of your ass.
It's a rush of sensations that nearly knocks you over and sends you hurtling over the edge of your orgasm. You cry out and arch your back, walls quivering around him. As you come down from your high, you hold yourself up on shaky arms, panting heavily. You refuse to look at the man beneath you even when he starts speaking.
"You know how much I hate punishing you, kitten, but I think you've learned your lesson." When you keep your eyes downcast, Shinsou grabs onto your chin so that you're forced to meet his lidded gaze. "Now say you're sorry."
"Sorry, Hitoshi," you reply, voice flat despite his quirk no longer being in effect.
"'I won't do it again'," he prompts.
"…I won't do it again."
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forever-rogue · 4 years
Text
You Put the Stars to Shame
Tumblr media
Request: Hey! I wanted to make a request with Din. Maybe some soft, touch starved, love making?
A/N: So, this started as something much shorter and then ended up here. I have no shame and I am not sorry. This might be some of the softest stuff I’ve written, so I hope you enjoy! xx
Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: this is soft, but it’s still 18+ because of you know...sex
Mandalorian Masterlist
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Pacing back and forth along the cargo hold of the Razor Crest, you held the babbling green baby tightly to your chest, trying to get him to calm down and finally succumb to the soft pull of sleep. He’d gotten up along with the sun that morning, rousing you bright and early and keeping you occupied all day. He was just like any other child, so curious and in awe at everything that it was a job in and of itself to take care of him all day. 
But right now, not even the wild little child could not keep your mind occupied and free from thoughts of the Mandalorian that had been absent for more days than you would have liked. He’s left four days go, early one morning before the sun rose off in search of an elusive quarry. He’s promised the two of you that he’d be back within the day, two at the most, but he still hadn’t made his triumphant return. You’d had no communication or heard anything from him since then.
The first day you weren’t worried; you knew there was a variable amount of things that could go wrong, and the off chance that the quarry wasn’t even on that particular planet. You’d managed to clean through all of the weapons in his cache, polishing and shining them until they looked brand new, with the help of your small assistant of course.
The second day, an uneasy feeling had settled into your stomach, but you ignored it, reminding yourself that there was nothing to worry about. Maybe he was just being slow and methodical. He’d had bounties had before that had managed to allude him for some time before. You cleaned up the entirety of the ship that day, making everything spic and span, shining like it never had before.
The third day that uneasy feeling had transformed into a giant knot and you could think of nothing but the horrid things that could have happened to him. What if something had gone terribly wrong? What if he was laying in the ditch somewhere, bleeding to death or already dead? What if? What if something happened and you never told him how you felt? You managed to pull yourself together enough to keep the child occupied, trying not to worry him along with yourself. He was sensitive to your every mood and could easily pick up on your distress. He shouldn’t have to worry -  Din wouldn’t want that. He wouldn’t want you to worry either. Instead you focused on washing all the blankets, pillows, and clothes you could find, even mending and patching the threadbare pieces, making a note that you’d all need new clothes soon before winter’s harsh bite was too strong.
By the fourth morning, you were at your wit’s end. You hadn’t slept much the night before, tossing and turning with nightmares plaguing the little bit of slumber you did find. Whatever images flashed through your mind, they all ended with Din being hurt. By the time the child was tugging on your arm, you were almost happy for the relief of being awake. He had cooed at you excitedly, his large eyes wide as you scratched his big ears and held him close, trying to reassure him, and yourself, that everything was alright. He was getting worried too; you could sense it. You’d spent the day letting him stretch his legs and play in the lush green surrounding the ship were you had made camp, resorting to baking and cooking once the sun started to set. It was something to keep you occupied, but it wasn’t enough. You were almost sick with worry.
“Come on my sweet love,” you whispered gently to the babbling baby, softly tapping his nose before scratching the space between his ears. Swaying him with gently, hoping it would do something to quell his worries, you hummed under your breath. You didn’t know the tune, but you’d heard Din humming it probably close to a thousand times by this point. You never asked what it was or how he knew it, but you loved it either way, “don’t you want to try and sleep? Your papa will be home soon.”
He perked up a little bit, giving you a curious look with those big owlish eyes, almost as if he was questioning you. You gave him a small smile before sitting down on the floor of the small makeshift kitchen, “I dunno how I know. But I just know, you know?”
You answered his unspoken question and he cooed lightly before reaching up and gently touching your cheek with his small hand. A few tears had inadvertently rolled down your cheeks and he was doing his best to wipe them away, which only served to make you cry harder. What were you going to do if Din didn’t come back, “it’ll be okay, right? Tell me it’ll be okay. Maker, I wish you could just tell me that he’ll be home soon, heavy sigh and all.”
He made a small sound, almost as if he was commiserating with you, before laying down on your chest and doing his best to wrap his small arms around your neck. Trying to quiet yourself, you held him tightly, hanging on as if you feared that if you let go he might disappear. Eventually, after crying yourself to the point where your throat felt raw, you find solace in sleep, the two of you lightly snoring.
You weren’t sure how long you were asleep for, but eventually a small sound met your ears and cause you to startle awake. You sat up, one hand rubbing at your eyes and the other still clutching the small, sleeping bundle. He must have been tired and in a deep sleep if he hadn’t stirred. Standing up slowly, you held him tightly as you looked around for the source of the noise, a small sliver of hope in your heart that it might be Din.
You ducked quickly into the small sleeping quarters, gently laying the child down in his little pram and closing the shutters so he wouldn’t be disturbed and actually get some sleep. Stalking back into the main hold of the ship, you looked around everywhere for the source of noise, hoping the Mandalorian would surprise you at any moment. But your heart quickly sank as you searched every part of the ship and found no other signs of life. You came to the conclusion that Din was not there, and it was either your imagination that had roused you from slumber, or just something from outside. 
Letting out a heavy sigh, you trudged back into the kitchen and stared at the little cake you and the child had spent the afternoon baking. It was a sad, meager little thing, messy and uneven, but it was Din’s favorite. You knew he would love it, especially since the two of you had made it together. Maybe now he’d never even get the chance to try it. 
Another wave of sadness washed over you as stared at it, hoping he would be back to try it. Until then, you decided, you’d wrap it up and keep it safe for him. Pacing around the hull for a moments, you dragged your fingers along the cool metal of the walls, knowing that sleep would evade you, knowing that nothing would settle your heart. What would you even do? Maybe you should contact Cara, or Kuiil to see if they could offer assistance. Surely they must be able to help, right?
So consumed in your thoughts, at first you didn’t even hear the ramp to the ship start to open. When you finally did, you were so startled that your only reaction was to grab a blaster - fight or flight definitely kicked in and it had definitely been honed by Din. 
Stepping down the ramp, blaster at the ready, you prepared for the inevitable; instead you were met with the sight of Din, clutching his arm and slowly making his way up the ramp. So surprised and taken aback, you kept the blaster pointed at him as you took a few ragged breaths. 
“What are you going to do?” his voice sounded rough and raspy, even more so since it was modulated by the vocoder of his helmet, “were you going to shoot me, mesh’la?”
“Din,” your voice shook as you discarded the blaster, tossing it to the side as you rushed over to him. You put your hands on his shoulders, almost as if you were unsure it was him, that you could possibly be fooled by a mirage. But your hands met the very real metal pauldrons of his armor. Tears, this time not of fear or worry, flowed down your cheeks as you came to the conclusion that he was back. He was here, “Din.”
He let out a ragged breath, as he slowly sank to his knees in front of you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you tightly. Din didn’t say a word, as he hugged you, holding onto you to ground himself and pull back into reality; he was home. Winding your own arms around his neck and leaned down, resting your head on top of his shining beskar helmet. You stayed there like that for some, as his breathing evened out and he slowly regained his collected senses.
“You’re hurt,” you spotted the nasty looking gash on his arm, wincing slightly when you realized just how painful it must be. He looked up at you, his expression hidden by the visor of his helmet, shaking his head, “Din, please...let me take of you.”
“It’s okay,” he insisted, stubborn as a blurrg as you helped hoist him up to his feet, “please don’t worry yourself.”
“I don’t recall asking a question,” you insisted firmly, touching the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and gently rubbing the small bit of exposed, tan skin, “come on, my love.”
Your words were not lost on him as you slowly started making your way up the ramp, keeping a tight grip him to make sure he wouldn’t fall. You hadn’t realized your little gaff, but even if you did, you wouldn’t have cared at this moment. You locked everything up behind you, before helping him to his cot. Once he was seated, you put a hand on his helmet where his cheek would have been, “stay here for just a moment and I’ll get some supplies to clean you up.”
Not even giving him a chance to argue, you stood up and went to grab some gauze and bacta spray and pads - whatever would help. When you walked back in the room, he was sitting there, hanging his head, looking worse for the wear. You kneeled in front of  him, taking his hand in yours, and giving it a light squeeze; although you couldn’t see his face, you had a feeling there was a light smile there. You’d been about to tell him that he should take his armor off, but decided against it, a soft bit of understanding passing between the two of you. 
Starting with his gloves, you slowly peeled them off and set them aside. His hands were large, warm, and surprisingly soft. You almost never got to see them without gloves, but you were about to take advantage of they felt in yours. A light sound was in trapped in his throat as he studied you with reverence, before you gently peeled off the rest of the beskar, piece by piece. 
Din was soon left in only his underclothes and helmet, and it appeared, thank the Maker, that the only injury was on his arm.  Grabbing the bacta pads and spray, you started to clean the wound, being as gentle as possible as to not injure him further. He hissed slightly at first, but let you work, slowly relaxing as he watched you, a small sigh of relief escaping his lips once the gauze was secured around his arm. 
Letting your hand linger on his arm, you looked up him, still nestled between his large legs. It was an almost compromising position, but there was nothing awkward or wrong with how it felt now. He leaned his head down and rested his forehead against yours in a soft sign of intimacy. Softly, your voice barely above a whisper you said, “your helmet....I...please tell me you’re alright under there. I don’t want to...”
You would never dare - ever - to remove his helmet, but you were curious. You were curious to see the man underneath the helmet, as he was, just him. You wondered if he had the soft brown eyes you always pictured, if the dark curls that sometimes poked out from under his helmet matched the rest of his hair. If his smile was gentle as you imagined, if his nose was as noble as you dreamt of. But you would never do anything to comprise his creed, to give up the way. 
Din’s breathing quieted for a moment, and you brought your hands to either side of his helmet, holding him as close to you as possible. If there was a moment that you never wanted to let go of, it was this: the quiet peace, the gentle tenderness and sacrosanctness of the moment. It was a few moments before he brought his hands up to yours, his much larger ones easily engulfing yours, warm, firm, and steadfast on yours. Slowly, almost achingly slowly, he started to push your hands up; you were so surprised that it took a long moment to see figure out what he doing. But once you did, your heart pounded rapidly in your chest and you wondered if his was doing the same, if he had thought about this moment before, if he had been waiting for his moment as long as you had.
“Din,” it was small, almost whimper, holding the promise of so much more. He knew what you were asking, he knew what this meant. What this meant to you, to him, to the creed, to everything that you weren’t just a friend or a companion, you were more - much more. Suddenly you knew Mesh’la was never just a nickname; it was everything. 
It seemed like it took a million years, and yet no time at all, as the anticipation that had been building for so long was threatening to bubble over. Once you had gotten a glimpse of his chin, your eyes instinctively squeezed shut, blocking out even the brightest of light. Your hands were guided by his as he set the helmet down, at his side. He dropped them from yours, and slowly brought his hands to either side of your face, gently cradling your cheeks. Your eyes still remained shut, lashes clinging together, damp with tears. 
“Mesh’la,” his voice was saccharine, beautiful and warm as ever, “open your eyes.”
Look at me, he wanted to say, please just look at me. 
Taking his hand and bringing it your lips, you pressed a soft kiss to his palm. You trusted yourself, you trusted him and slowly opened your eyes, taking a moment to blink away the bleariness from your tears. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but as your vision focused, a gently smiling face, one with sweetest brown eyes you had ever seen was staring back at you expectantly. 
You let a shaky breath as you realized this was Din. This was him in his most vulnerable state, his most true self. He was just as nervous as you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you studied him. His soft dark hair was mussed, he looked beyond tired, and there was several days worth of stubble on his face. He was everything you had ever expected, and then much more. But Maker, was your silence making him worry. 
Leaning up slightly and catching him off guard, you placed your hands on his cheeks, getting familiar with the feel of his skin, how delicate and warm he was. How human. But then, surprising you both, you closed the small, almost nonexistent gap between your bodies and pressed your lips to his plush, full ones. It was nothing dramatic, nothing crazy or wild, like legends and stories always make a first kiss out to be. 
Instead, it was a slow, soft, unsure thing as you both tried to figure out what you were doing, how badly you had been craving this. It was far from perfect, a passionate mess of teeth and tongue as you moved against his each other and he cupped the back of your neck and held you as close as possible. You hadn’t even realized that you were crying again until he pulled back from and wiped away every last bit of your tears.
“I thought I had lost you,” you faltered as you watching, more thankful than ever before that he was back, safe and sound, “I was scared, Din, so scared. I don’t know what I would have done if...”
“Shhh,” he said gently, “it’s okay, Mesh’la, I’m here. I would never...I’ll always come back to you. In this lifetime and the next and the next. Every one of them, even if I had to drag myself from the pits of hell.”
Unable to think of a proper response, positive that words would not be able to properly convey how you felt, you kissed him again, and responded in kind, his hands finding your waist and pulling you up so you were sitting in his lap. Your hands found purchase on his shoulders and you leaned into him as closely as possible. You had been refraining from this for so long, so long had you ached and longed for him, that now you wanted to feel every part of him as much as you could.
Once you found your rhythm, you could feel him smiling against your lips as his hands touched the soft, exposed skin of your hips. It wasn’t on purpose, an accident rather, but it caused you to gasp lightly. Din stopped for a moment, searching your eyes to make sure you were okay, and not feeling uncomfortable. You grabbed his wrists and held his hands steadfast on your hips,”it’s okay. I was just startled, your hands are cold.”
He laughed lightly, bringing his head forward and resting his head on your shoulder. You reached up and ran a hand through his hair, nails gently scratching his scalp as you held him close, before burrowing your face into his neck, “Din. You’re so beautiful, my love. You always were before, but getting to have you...completely...it is not something I cannot easily described with words.”
He murmured something softly against your shoulder, but you couldn’t make out the words. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to, or if it was just for him. Tracing your hands over his back, you slowly started to pull up his shirt, testing the waters as you both entered new territory. When he didn’t stop you, you continued your work, slowly, inch by inch pulling off his dark undergarment; he pulled back and lifted his arms, making it easier for you strip him completely as you discarded the shirt onto the floor. 
His torso was a golden bronze, soft and warm, and littered with various marks and scars that he had no doubt acquired over the years from his line of work. He seemed almost shy as you cast your eyes over him, trying to commit everything to memory. You turned slightly and slowly starting to push him back so he was lying on his back on the cot, staring back up at you. You traced your fingers lightly over his torso, touching every part of him, every inch of him that you could. He sighed lightly under your feather light touch. 
His hands traced over your sides and you nodded lightly, silently granting him the permission he sought. Peeling off your shirt, he soon had it on the floor next to his, and you quickly let your undergarment join the shirts. You leaned down so you were basically laying on top of him, pressing gentle kisses to his skin. A few on his shoulders, his collarbones, his chest and down his stomach, the areas where he had particularly painful looking scars getting extra attention. 
His stomach blossomed with nothing but love and affection for you as you were gentle, so gentle with him. He was not sure he had ever experienced this type of kindness and love before - honestly, he wasn’t ever sure he was deserving of it. But you always made feel the expect opposite, so loved, so human, so worthy. 
 He slowly pulled you back up, bring his lips to yours as he wrapped his arms around you and hugging you tightly to him. A soft sigh left your lips as kissed with such a fervent passion that it almost left you feeling drunk - on his love and touch.
You tilted your head back as a small mewl left your lips allowing Din even easier access your jaw and neck, almost inch of you bared before him. You were in such a vulnerable situation, but it didn't feel like anything but pure bliss and warmth as his lips explored every inch of your soft skin. His grip was firm but his exploration was the opposite.
Din was trying to learn every bit of your body, every touch, every curve. He admired how soft and delicate you felt, a complete juxtaposition to him; a balance of the darkness he had experienced and the lightness you carried.
Lightly, his mouth almost never leaving yours, he switched positions with you so you were on your back. Your eyes were trained on his, curious, wide, and filled with pure adoration. Surely he must have ascended because he would not think himself this fortunate in any lifetime to experience you in such softness.
You pulled him back to your swollen lips, arms around his neck as you held him close to you. It was so little, but meant so much. He took his sweet time, in rush as though all the time in the galaxy was on his side. And you let him, keeping a firm grip on him, but remaining gentle with his bandaged arm. The sound of your small sounds were saccharine to his ears, like music meant only for him.
It was a long time before he pulled back from you, and you silently grabbed his hands, setting them on the waistband of your pants. His eyes got lost in yours as he slowly undid the zip and fly of your pants, slowly them own your legs, drinking you in like he was a man that hadn't seen water in ages. 
His touch was almost searing on yours as he explored the parts of you he had never seen before; your hips, your thighs, and every part. Sure that he was still either in shock or nervous, just as you were, you decided to help by pulling the remainder of your undergarments down and kicking them off, leaving you naked as the day you were born. His breath hitched in his throat as he reached up and ghosted his long fingers over your face, "you are easily the most stunning thing I have ever seen. You put the stars to shame, mesh'la."
You responded with a soft smile as you reached for the waistband of his thick trousers, fingers shaking lightly with nerves as the gravity of the situation slowly sunk in. This was happening - you were committing yourselves to each other in more ways than just physical. But you had known that as soon as he had made the decision to take off the helmet; you also knew that his decision had not been made on the spot, it had been slowly coming to fruition over a long time.
When the waistband was unbuttoned and unzipped, Din took over and slid his woolen pants down, kicking them away in a hurry. It wasn’t that his lust was all consuming or that he couldn’t wait, no, he’d already waited so long for you and he would be having been willing to wait for however long it took. But, rather, he wanted to feel every part of you on every part of him. He’d...known women before you, just as you’d known other men before you, but there was something so much more intimate and special about this, about you. But the way you beamed at him, a smile that rivaled when the beauty of Tatooine’s twin suns, his misgivings were washed and he just felt...loved. 
He propped himself on an arm next to your face, his injured arm burying itself in your hair as he kissed you, nuzzling his nose against yours. Capturing his lips in a soft kiss, you whispered a string of soft reassurances in his ear. Maker, you hoped, desperately so, that this was a sight that would become familiar. Reaching down you took his hardened length and guided him to your entrance, already well slick with your arousal. 
He slowly pushed in, a low moan escaping him as he gave you time to adjust to his length. It was a blissful feeling, mildly painful as you body adjusting to his width, but soon replaced with pleasure as he fully sheathed himself inside of you. He let out a breathy laugh before kissing you again, relishing in how you felt around him, how everything felt so right, so perfect. 
He had stilled in you, but slowly began to move, taking his time as there was no rush; he could have stayed buried in your forever. Arching into his touch, your hands were all over his body as you didn’t bother to hold back the little moans and sounds that he was pulling from you. It was such a slow and soft thing, you both knew you wouldn’t last long, but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, really, just being there in that moment. 
“Din,” you pulled his face towards, making sure his eyes are were on you, “when we go to bed, or when you leave, you always say...well, I don’t know exactly what, but I want to know what it means.”
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum?” he asked quietly as a light blush crept into his cheeks. You nodded and tried to repeat the words, failing miserably at doing so, causing the Mandalorian to chuckle fondly at you, “you’re so close...you’ll get there eventually, Mesh’la.”
“What does it mean?” you repeated, almost burying your face in his neck as he continued to move, and you were getting closer and closer to seeing stars, your vision softly going hazy, “you can tell me anything, Din.”
“It’s Mando’a,” he explained, kissing the side of your head as he felt himself getting incrementally closer to his bliss too, “it means...I love you.”
“I love you?” you gasped softly as he pressed almost nonexistent kisses along your jaw and neck, inhaling your warm scent; it had been his favorite for a long time, “but...you’ve been saying that to me for....”
“I know,” he finished your thought for you as he slowly started to still his lips, and you felt him twitch within you. He felt you grin against his chest as your hands trailed to his hips and beyond, grabbing the soft flesh of his backside.
“Ni...kar’grar...suum,” you mumbled against him, forgetting the words as you closed your eyes as your release washed over you, “kriff - I love you.”
A slight moan spilled from his lips as your words crashed around his ears, and he never felt more grounded or alive than ever in that moment. It was enough to spur him into his own release you and felt him spill within you. Wrapping him in your arms, you pulled him down to you, ignoring the fact that he was virtually crushing you, just wanted to feel him as close as humanly possible, to feel every breath he took, every movement he made. 
His eyes met yours and pressed a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I love you.”
There it was. Finally, hanging in the air and in the open. Although, as you had found out, he had been saying it to you for so much longer than you could have imagined. But it was easier, so much easier than you had thought it ever would be. Maybe that was how love was supposed to feel....easy and bright. You liked that idea; you liked the idea of sharing that sort of gentle love with Din.
He re-positioned himself so he was lying across from you, his longer legs still tangled with yours as he brushed the stray locks of hair away from your face. You were worn out and sweaty, basking in the afterglow as you stared at your newly anointed lover. Maker, he was the most wondrous sight you had ever beheld. 
“We made you a cake!” you suddenly remembered, eyes widening as you pictured the sad little thing that was wrapped up and waiting for him. His eyes light up as he laughed warmly, a rich, deep timbre that sent a pleasant shiver up your spine.
“Kriff,” he sighed lightly, “what did I do to deserve you?”
“You haven’t seen the cake,” you leaned in closer so your nose was brushing against his, “I wouldn’t say that just yet.”
“I’m not talking about the cake,” he let out a content sigh as wrapped an arm around your waist. You burrowed into his chest, listening to the even beating of his heart; it was strong and steady, just like him. 
“I know,” you echoed his words from earlier, “I just...”
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” he repeated slowly so you could listen to the inflection and tone of each word, “I mean it, Mesh’la. I have and will, in every lifetime I am blessed enough to find you.”
“Every lifetime,” you suddenly felt tired, a deep tired, but a happy one as you settled further into his chest, “like you said. Even if I have to drag myself from the depths of hell to find you. I would it, and again, and again, and again.”
He rested his head on top of yours and you could feel his throat catch as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. Closing his tired eyes, he let himself drift to sleep, content in knowing that this wasn’t just a dream - you were tangible and very real. You’d wake up in his arms and he’d get a lifetime of this. A life time of kisses, of love, of you.
And he was okay with. Even if he had to crawl from the very depths of hell to just see you smile one more time.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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