#usually I’m popping on those but I’m having a slow start

[congolese-kitty]

time to cry 💀💀💀

[tacticalprincess]

a/n i need him in ways that wouldve gotten me lobotomized in the 50s…

himbo!könig wanted your first time together to be special. after all the months of work he put in getting you to take him seriously, all of his dumb attempts at courting you, he wasn’t going to fumble his chances with you now.

he’s usually pretty confident in himself, almost to the point of delusion, but something about you makes him so nervous, and he can’t wrap his head around someone like you genuinely being interested in a goofy guy like him :( that’s why he misses all of the opportunities you give him to fuck you, always taking your hints and attempts at seducing him the wrong way…

“it’s so hot in here, köni.” “are you getting sick, liebchen? should i turn the air on?” “no, i think i’m wearing too many clothes…” “…you don’t look overdressed to me.”

at some point you start to question if he actually does want you in that way. but the way even the slightest touch from you has him popping boners is enough to shake you out of those doubts. everything about you seems to turn him on. he’s convinced you were plucked straight from his wettest dreams, and he can’t stand to be in close proximity to you for too long without being affected. but he thinks he hides it well enough— always covering the proof of his arousal with a subtle pillow over his lap whenever you’re around.

of course he wants to make the move, but he wants to do it properly. it happens the night he takes you to a small town carnival. he planned on kissing you on top of the ferris wheel, but he unfortunately surpassed the weight limit. instead he holds your hand on the rollercoasters and you feed each other fair food. he insists on stopping at every game until he’s won you too many stuffed animals for you to carry and eventually you’re forced to leave.

he’s shaking in his boots by the time you get back to his place, tripping over the mess on his floor and stumbling over his words. sensing his hesitancy, you’re the one to lead him to his room, your hand wrapped around his large finger.

“are you sure, maus? we don’t have to, i have DVDs–”

“shut up and fuck me, köni.” you huff, already fully naked and exposed on his bed. “please.”

he plans to take it slow, he really does. getting the chance to please you, to be let inside your hot body for the first time, is a privilege he doesn’t take lightly. he wants you both to savor it, he has to make it good for you :(

instead, he absolutely loses himself the moment his fat, pulsing cock sinks into your gummy cunt. he goes full caveman, your headboard slamming against the wall with the force of his thrusts for all your poor neighbors to hear :( all thoughts leave him when he’s sheathed inside of you except for how perfect your sopping pussy feels around him, borderline animalistic as he uses your smaller body as a fleshlight. the sounds of his heavy balls smacking against your ass accompanied by your pretty whines and moans only spur him on.

he fucks you in missionary so it’s more intimate, but there’s nothing romantic about the way he’s mounting you. you thank god for making you flexible as he’s pushing your knees up to your ears, seemingly trying to push his cock deeper than your small cunny has room for, stretching your poor cunt past its limit. you swear you can feel him all the way in your stomach, mushroom tip bruising your cervix with each thrust.

you don’t even notice you’re sobbing until he does. “are you okay, liebe? does it hurt?” he asks through heavy pants. “fuck, i’m sorry. i don’t think i can stop myself, you just— you feel so fucking good. you’re so… warm… squeezing me so tight. just- just hang in there for me, ja?”

your brain can’t work for long enough to form words, rough thrusts drawing nothing but high pitched staccato “uh-uh-uh”’s from your throat. you’re drunk on the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, the way his heavy body squishes yours, barricading you in so you’re completely engulfed by him. his hairy stomach ruts against your sensitive, puffy clitty until you’re clenching around him, your sudden orgasm draining the cum out of his tight balls. “so good. fuck, you’re so perfect. best pussy i’ve ever felt.” he fucks you through the high, mindlessly overstimulating you both until you have to physically push him off of you.

you might’ve created a monster…

[tulip-room]

✧.*Makes You Look Stupid*ೃ༄

"You want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid." "Yes, I do."

words. 1.2k

The relationship between you and Gojo was…interesting to say the least. Somewhere between friends and something more but nothing less. You would fight and tease each other daily, hair tugged, faces red, eyes narrowed. But there were also moments where the world seemed to slow down.

Moments where he would come back from a mission and would immediately start towards the door of your dorm. He would knock twice and then his head would rest against the cool and grainy surface of the wood. Your knuckles would tap the door twice and he would lift his head for you to open the door. This had become a ritual for the two of you. He would slink into your room and you would turn the lights off.

He would lay down on your bed, not bothering to take his glasses off, and wraps his arms around your pillow. You shake your head and sit down next to him, he lifts his head up and you pluck the glasses from his face and gently sit them on the bedside table. You didn’t talk. There wasn’t a need. Your fingers just slowly carded through his hair until he fell asleep. It didn’t matter what time it was when he appeared, your door was always open. Even if you weren’t there because of your own missions.

In the morning he was always gone and everything would go back to how it usually was. If your other friends new what was going on didn’t mention anything, at least to either of you. There were looks thrown to each other and reading comments that never quite reached your ears.

“Is it throw things at Satoru time again?” You asked with a smile and picked up a pencil. Your other friends also had objects in their hands. Geto tossed the eraser in his hand a few times and nodded.

“Yeah, he says he’s figured it out.”

“I just like throwing things at him. Helps me get my frustration out.”

“Your sexual frustration?” Shoko teases and pokes you as you roll your eyes.

“I don’t have sexual frustration.” You gag a little bit and throw the pencil towards Gojo. It stops before it hits him and he throws you a shit eating grin.

“Gonna have to try harder than that if you want to hit something.” He lets out a fake yawn and it’s Geto’s turn to throw his eraser. It too stops before hitting him. “Really? I mean come on guys, is that all you got,” he crosses his arms behind his head and leans back as he closes his eyes.

The three of you share a look and roll your eyes. “Oh wow, how cool. Your technique does what it’s supposed to do,” you say in a monotone voice and shake your hands.

“Aww, don’t get mad just cause you can’t hit me.” He pops his head up to look towards you. “Here, I’ll let you get one punch in.” He taps his cheek with a smile and brandishes his face towards you.

“I’m going to lose it guys.” You sigh and cross your arms. Shoko and Geto let out small laughs and pat your back.

“You scared?” He pulls his glasses down a little bit.

“Let’s let those two figure it out.” Shoko says towards Geto and the two of them slip away. You let out a scoff at Gojo’s words.

“And what pray tell, should I be scared of Satoru?”

“Who’s to say? Obviously something if you’re not going to hit me.” You roll up the sleeves of your uniform and match over to him with a sneer on your face. You grab the collar of his jacket, slightly surprised that you could, and push him into the wall. He looks down at you with a smirk. “Is that all?”

“One of these days I’m going to shut you up.” You glare up at him and his smirk makes you want to hit him even more.

“And how are you going to do that?” He puts his hands on his hips.

“Knock you out.”

“Just face it, you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.” He playfully puckers his lips towards you. You let out a groan and tighten your grip on his jacket.

“You’re right.” Huh? He opens his eyes so he can properly look at you. “Yes, I do. One thing you got wrong though. I’m gonna kiss you stupid.” He lets out a small yelp as you pull him closer, his hands finding their way to your waist. You stop before your lips touch and he can feel your breath against his lips. Your noses brush and if you looked away from his lips you would see just how flushed his face is.

“What are you waiting for?” His voice is uneven and breathy. His breath hitches when one of your hands goes up to cup his face.

“Can I kiss you?” He never thought that sentence could sound so hot. But here he is, the sun beating down on the two of you and the leaves rustling and threatening to fall from the tree. He nods minisculely. Head just barely moving. “Tell me.”

“Kiss me.” He says it so quick one would almost miss it. “Please.” It’s so breathless that it makes you stop. You smile and close the rest of the distance between your lips. He sighs the minute your lips touch and his hands tighten against the fabric of your uniform.

He never thought much about how someone else’s lips felt against his own. Now, all he can think off is memorising the way your’s feel against his. Your lips are slightly chapped, likely due to the weather. The way you kiss him is greedy, taking everything he will give you. Your body feels warm against him and his glasses have slid down and are now bumping against you. You pull away and he finds himself leaning towards you.

His chest is heaving and he’s not sure he’s ever been this breathless before. His glasses are balanced precariously on the tip of his nose, threatening to fall off. You take them off of his face and smile at him. “Hi.” Voice barely above a whisper.

“Hi,” he whispers back and his thumb makes gentle circles on your skin where it’s found its way under your shirt. The front of him is cold despite the warm weather since you’re no longer pressed against him. “You’re right. I think you did kiss me stupid.”

“Clearly not enough if you’re still able to make sentences.”

“I guess you’ll have to try again then.” He says it like a challenge but really it’s a wish. He could kiss you for hours and never get bored. Maybe he will.

Needless to say, when he gets back from missions there’s something else added to your routine. He kisses your lips once and then places his head on your chest while you press kisses to the crown of his head. Besides kissing, nothing much changes. If you want him to shut up you grab his face and pull him into one. Shoko and Geto are unsure if they’re happy with this arrangement yet or not. On one hand Gojo shuts up. On the other, the two of you are now kissing with little care for anything else.

taglist. @hiraethwa

stay a while why don't you? check out my other stuff

[moonstruckme]

Hellooo!!! I have a Spencer Reid request, but feel free to ignore it if you're not up for it hahaha! I was thinking about BAU!Reader and maybe her and Spencer starting to mimic each other because they've been together for a while and spend so much time together? Like the way they talk, etc! I think it could be so so cute, especially if they don't realize they're doing it and the team noticing it for them? Thank you so much, I love everything that you write 🤍

Thanks gorgeous!

cw: discussion of tongue preservation methods? sorry in advance

Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 560 words

You gaze lovingly at your boyfriend as he goes into detail about how to preserve severed tongues. 

“So the fact that this unsub is purchasing equipment actually shows a lack of medical expertise, since he seems to be going overboard with preservation measures.” Spencer’s nodding as he talks, a tiny scrunch between his brows. “It’s pretty silly actually. It’s probably only a matter of time until he figures out he just needs to keep them on ice.” 

Rossi’s eyebrows raise, and Morgan chuckles quietly. 

Spencer blinks, eyes refocusing as he comes out of his brain and back into the conference room. “What?”

“Did you just say the unsub was silly?” Prentiss asks, and his eyebrows refurrow. 

“Did I?” 

“Let’s stay on task.” Hotch is all business. “If he were as inexperienced as that would suggest, he probably wouldn’t make clean cuts. This skill level indicates some level of expertise.” 

“Well, actually, I’m not sure it would necessarily be medical expertise,” you say, cringing at your own knowledge. “The process he’s using doesn’t sound dissimilar to how I think they preserve cow tongues. Maybe he’s preparing them to eat.” 

You’re doing your best not to squirm, and Spencer can likely tell, placing a slender hand on your leg under the table. “That’s a good point,” he says, “he could have experience as a chef or in the meatpacking business.” 

Prentiss frowns. “Yeah, but how many chefs know how to preserve tongues?” 

“Maybe we could start by looking into restaurants that serve those kinds of delicacies,” JJ suggests. 

“Good.” Hotch closes his binder, standing. “Garcia, you get started on that and we’ll touch base with you from Atlanta. Wheels up in two hours.” 

“Yes sir.” Garcia looks a bit green—you sympathize—as she hurries out of the conference room. 

Morgan’s giving you one of his knowing looks, collecting his things extra slow, until finally you sigh. “What?” 

“Well, actually,” he mimics, lips curving into a grin. “You and pretty boy must be getting serious if you’re taking on his signature phrase.” 

You roll your eyes, but Spencer smiles, looping his crossbody bag over his head. “Actually, language style matching is only one form of mirroring. If you’re paying attention, people who spend a lot of time together can mirror each other down to their breathing rhythms or how many times they blink within a minute.” 

You look at him interestedly. “So what does that mean? Just that we’re spending too much time together?” 

The look Spencer gives you threatens to liquefy you with its softness. “There’s never too much time.” 

Morgan’s laughter is hooting, and you want to find that as cheesy as he does, you really do, but the place within yourself where you usually reach for sarcasm has gone mushy and useless. You rearrange some things in your bag unnecessarily, head down to hide your blush.

“Wow,” Morgan sighs happily, “I don’t know which one of you is more whipped.” 

This would normally be your opportunity to think of a retort, but luckily you don’t have to. JJ pops back into the room, looking frowny. 

“We just got a call from Atlanta. The unsub killed again overnight.” 

Spencer grows serious. “He’s accelerating?” 

“Yup.” She nods. “Hotch wants us there now, so it’s wheels up in twenty.” 

You and Spencer nod in tandem. “Sick.”

Morgan’s eyes roll straight up to the ceiling.

[muwapsturniolo]

✯𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐃𝐢𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠✯

IN WHICH...Y/N meets a biker who gives her the best night of her life, and manages to turn her world upside down.

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!! drinking, public fondling, dom!Matt/asshole!Matt, spanking, choking, knife play, unprotected sex, slight predatorxprey concept, dumbification,, stomach buldging. If I forgot anything please let me know!!!

this is a long one so sorry not sorry <3

“I’m f-r-e-e fuck nigga free!”

My friends and I shout the lyrics to Glorilla's song at the top of our lungs as we fly down the street.

It was one of those nights where you feel like a teenager again, staying out late and sneaking out to go to parties to do lord knows what with your friends.

It was different in my case.

I was grown, 22 to be exact. I didn’t have to sneak out, I could walk out the door and not have to tell anyone where I was going.

“And I’m s- i- n -g- l- e again, outside hanging out the window with my ratchet ass friends!” Buddy stops at a light and I jump out of the car, immediately throwing it back. My girls scream and start recording me, making me act up even more.

We haven’t been out in a long time due to adulting. You know how it is, one of you is free while the other three have other things to do, and then you have to schedule two months out, only for someone else to cancel. it's the rare occurrence where our schedules finally sync up, and we decided to make the most of it, acting out like we have no type of decorum.

“At the red lights twerking on them headlights!”

I hop on the hood of the car and grind down.

“Bitch get in the car!” Buddy shouts while still recording me, her laughter louder than the music.

Suddenly the sound of revving engines makes all of us turn. A group of guys on bikes pull up next to us, clapping and revving their engines in encouragement. One of them takes off their helmet and puts it between his legs, licking his lips before smiling.

“You trynna ride sweetheart?”

I look back at my girls and they are vigorously nodding yes. I climb off the car and skip over to him, “ride what exactly?” He smirks and looks me up and down, “I was talking about my bike, but I could make the other situation happen too.” His answer makes me heat up, although it could be the three shots of Casamigos in my system.

He’s attractive, it wouldn’t hurt to have fun.

Live fast die young, right?

I say nothing as I walk around the bike and swing my leg over, pressing up against him as I wrap my arms around his torso. “You know how to ride?” I ask, taking the helmet from him.

“I’m in the front for a reason.” I can’t see his face but I can hear the smirk. “Bitch where are we going?” Buddy screams from the car. “Trail us! We’re gonna show you girls a good time!” One of the other guys shouts.

It seems like the light follows his words, switching from red to green instantly. The engines rev and soon we are flying down the streets of LA. He pops a wheelie making me scream in excitement and tighten my grip around him. The wind whips past us, the inches on my head flowing behind me.

I look to the side and see Buddy easily following along in her car, music still bumping loudly, filling up the abandoned streets.

It doesn’t take long until he slows down and pulls into a lot. The lot is filled with a bunch of bodies, bikes, and cars. People begin to hoot and holler seeing us pull in.

He parks his bike and climbs off before aiding me in doing the same. “What’s your name pretty girl?” He begins to help me take off the helmet.

“Y/n. You?”

“Matthew, but you can call me Matt.” He lightly squeezes my hip as he looks down at me. He's attractive, nice jawline, a beard, and tattoos going up and down his arm as well as his neck. His piercings fit his features perfectly. I usually wouldn’t go for the punk-looking dudes, it was something about him though.

“Well, thank you for the ride, Matt. You’re a great driver.”

“You’re a great rider, what else can you ride?” He shoots me a look, making me smack my lips and lightly push him. “Boy bye.” He laughs and keeps his grip on me.

“So what is this?” I ask looking around in curiosity. He lets go of me and begins to take his gloves off, “it’s a meet. A bunch of people round up and show off their bikes or cars. We do them every Friday.” I hum and continue to look around. I see my friends by the trunk of our car, sharing our bottle with the new people around us.

“So tell me something, you often get out of cars and shake your ass?”

“You often offer girls a ride?” I shoot back.

“Only the pretty ones.” He winks before grabbing my waist and pulling me towards him. “You’re staying with me for the night.” I quirk a brow at his statement.

“Am I?”

“Yeah, problem?” He seems secure in his words, like he’s daring me to tell him there is a problem.

“No”

“That’s what I thought. Let’s get your pretty ass to your friends.” He takes the lead, guiding me to clean white jeep.

“Girl I thought you were going to fall off when he popped that wheelie!” Lani exclaims. “The way I screamed when I saw that shit!” Mika adds. “I really thought your lashes were going to fly off.” Buddy finishes. I giggle at their over-exaggerated statements. Soon a drink is shoved into my hands, “drink up bitch!”

The night ensued, everyone having a good time. I mingled with a few people, attempting to learn about their bikes and cars. Everything honestly went in one ear and out the other. Matt kept me close, my back pressed to his front, both of his hands resting right on my hips. If it was any other guy, I would have been annoyed and pushed them away, but I’m not. My girls keep eyeing me, mouthing a “You ok?” occasionally. I respond back with a smile and a sip of my drink.

"You wanna get out of here?" His breath tickles my ear as he talks to me. I smirk and take another sip of my drink before turning around, "and go where?"

He gives me a look, "somewhere private." I feel his hands travel from my waist down to my ass, gripping the exposed flesh tightly. He softly kisses my neck, biting occasionally. I sigh out in relief, craning my neck as his beard tickles me.

"Come on sweetheart, you know you want to." He whispers in her ear before pulling away and giving her a look. She bites her lip and looks back at her friends before turning back to Matt. "let me tell my friends." He nods and watches as she scampers off towards the group of girls. She's soon skipping back with a wide mischievous smile on her face.

"Let's go."

Matt puts the helmet on her head and helps her onto the bike before climbing on himself. He starts the bike, revving the engine before pulling off.

Matt's going over the speed limit, pushing the gas to the max so he can get the girl behind him in his bed. Y/n holds on to him tightly, only loosening her grip when they arrive at a red light.

She's not sure how long it's going to take for them to arrive at their destination, so she decides to have some fun. She rests her hands on his thighs, rubbing them softly and allowing her nails to draw random shapes. Matt doesn't think anything of it, taking it as her relaxing at the light.

She slowly inches her right hand toward his crotch, palming him through the rough material. She bites her lip and smirks feeling him tense, noticing the way his hands grip the handlebars tightly. She decides to take it a step further and snakes her hand into his pants, wrapping her hand around the base and slowly jerking.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stop." His threat is oddly calm, his voice not rising in any way. She takes the threats with a grain of salt, rubbing her thumb over his tip.

"Fuck this-" he mumbles to himself. He releases the brake and speeds off, ignoring the flashing of the red light camera.

Y/n gasps and snatches her hand out of his pants, going back to holding him tightly.

After ten minutes of running multiple red lights and speeding, the two arrive at a house, the garage opening as Matt presses a button on the bike.

The bike inches forward before Matt turns it off and kicks down the stand.

They climb off the bike and Matt aids her in taking off the helmet, dropping it to the floor. He's quick to yank her forward by her throat.

"You think you're funny touching me like that?"

"I think I'm hilarious ac-" A whimper of pain and pleasure tumbles from her mouth as Matt smacks her ass. She looks up at him with wide glossy eyes filled with lust, Matt returns the look, a devious smirk coating his face.

"Take your shorts off."

Just like before his voice held no room for defiance, it was a demand that she had to follow,

So she does just that.

She continues to stare at him as she unfastens her belt, dropping it to the cement floor of the garage. She unbuttons the acid wash denim and shimmies out of them, standing in front of Matt with nothing but a bright blue thong on her bottom half.

He quickly turns her around and bends her over the bike, knocking her legs apart. He runs his ring-clad hand over her ass, enjoying the way the soft skin feels.

He doesn't think twice before spanking her, enjoying the choked moan that falls from her mouth. He enjoys it so much that he does it over,

and over

and over.

25 smacks later, she's sniffling and clenching her legs shut, her wetness causing a tingle in between her folds. Matt stands behind her, admiring the number he did on her ass. The soft brown skin was forming purple and blue bruises, ring indentations clear as day. He allows his eyes to trail to the blue material being swallowed by her ass, noticing the change of color.

He pulls the thong to the side, watching as a thin string of her slick attaches itself to the lace material. He puts his index and middle finger together before gliding them through her folds, moving her slick around. Y/n whines softly, pushing herself back in an attempt to chase his fingers.

"Tsk tsk tsk, so eager." He shakes his head as he clicks his tongue, eyes still trained on her wet cunt. Suddenly Y/n is yanked upward by her hair, her body now flushed with Matts. He turns her head and brings her into a heated kiss, their tongues meshing together.

She hears a 'shink' and chooses to ignore it, thinking it was something in the garage. However, she was proven wrong when she felt something sharp and cold against her collarbone.

She freezes as Matt smirks against her lips, pulling away slowly. She looks down and her heart begins to race seeing the pocket knife. He slowly begins to drag the sharp object downward, ripping her shirt in the process. She gulps watching the fabric fall to the ground, her boobs bouncing as they release.

Her breathing speeds up as he circles her nipple with the knife, pressing it softly against her skin. Goosebumps rise along her body as she sharply inhales.

"You like it, I could see it in your eyes," he whispers as he watches the soft buds harden under the coldness of the knife. He quickly pulls it away and forces her back down onto the bike. He leans over her, one of his hands still wrapped in the blonde hair on her head. She trembles feeling the knife move with the curve of her ass. He chuckles feeling her flinch as he cuts the band of her thong. He catches the material before it falls, and holds it in front of her face.

"Look at that, you ruined them."

Before she could say anything, he shoves the wet material into her mouth. Her face burns in embarrassment as her leftover slick touches her tongue.

He drops to his knees and spreads her cheeks apart, his mouth watering as her lips spread. He wastes no time and dives in, licking and slurping through her folds. Y/n moans as her eyes flutter shut, enjoying the way his soft and warm tongue laps at her juices.

He flattens his tongue and moves it back and forth across her clit, his nose softly pressing against her entrance. "F-fuck Matt!" He pulls away from her, licking at his lips as he pushes two fingers into her.

His fingers stretch her out, providing some form of temporary relief, but it's not enough. "M-more, please I need more!" She begs pathetically.

"My fingers not enough for you sweetheart? You need my dick that bad?" She struggles to speak as he relentlessly pounds his finger into her tight cunt, occasionally curling them.

"No they're enough, you're just a greedy girl aren't you? Well, guess what?-" He adds a third finger into her cunt, not slowing down his handiwork by any means. "You're not getting my dick until you cum on all my fingers. So, I suggest you hurry up if you're that eager."

She whines knowing it's going to take awhile for her to reach any type of orgasm if it's just his fingers.

Matt's not dumb, he knows how to pleasure a woman, so he drops the switchblade and uses his free hand to draw endless figure eights' against her clit.

She throws her head back and lets out a deep moan, her walls squeezing down on his fingers. "That's it sweetheart, come on I know you're close." He moves both of his hands faster making Y/n's legs shake slightly.

His finger hits that special spot inside of her and she lets out a high-pitched moan, her whole body tensing up as she reaches her peak.

She's too busy trying to catch her breath, she doesn't even notice Matt undoing his pants and pulling them down.

Her head suddenly drops as Matt slides into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. He's big, stretching her out perfectly and hitting all the right spots. Matt wastes no time snapping his hips, her body lurching forward with each thrust.

She grips onto the bike, her palms becoming sweaty against the metal. Matt is relishing hearing her wheezes as his cock nudges against that sweet spot, his tip pressing tightly against her cervix in the process.

"Fuck!" she finally manages to shout, her eyes rolling back.

It's almost euphoric the way he's fucking her, almost too euphoric.

She reaches behind and tries to slow him down but it's no use. He grabs her arm and folds it to her back, using it to pull her back and meet his thrusts.

"Already falling apart?" He taunts, a laugh exiting his throat as he continues to thrust.

He watches the way she sucks him in, her walls eagerly clamping down and welcoming him,

like he was made for her

like she was his.

"Whos pussy is this?"

She's so caught up moaning and wheezing around the lace in her mouth, she doesn't hear the question. He slaps her ass making her walls squeeze him even more. He throws his head back, his rhythm breaking as he basks in the feeling.

"Answer the question sweetheart. Who's pussy is this?''

"Ymm-Speak up baby, I can't hear you." He removes her thong from her mouth and snaps his hips harsher than he has before making her squeal, "Yours! Oh fuck it's yours!" She sobs out, not being able to handle her current situation.

"Good girl."

He sneaks his hand down and begins to circle her clit once again.

Her eyes roll back as her whole body begins to shake violently, her second orgasm of the night approaching quickly. "You wanna cum? Hm? You wanna make a mess on me and my bike?"

She moans loudly in response, her body getting weaker from his harsh thrusts and her approaching orgasm.

"Go on, make a mess for me, make a mess all over me."

Her body goes limp as her juices splash all over him and the bike, falling to the concrete floor of the garage.

Matt pulls out of her, pulling her up by her hair. Her legs shake as he drags her over to a free space in the garage. He flips her around and pins her against the wall, the cold concrete aiding in helping the welts on her ass.

he takes a moment to examine her face.

Her makeup was messed up. Her eyeliner and mascara were running and making black tears down her cheeks. Her lashes were beginning to loosen as well, somehow managing to keep some attachment to her lids. Her lipgloss was smudged around her lips as well, some even on her chin.

He presses both his lips and body against hers, gripping her sides harshly. His hands travel to her ass, separating the skin from the wall and hoisting her up, both legs wrapping around his waist.

She throws her arms around his shoulders as he pushes himself into her. She struggles to kiss him back, her moans vibrating against his lips.

His fingers dig into her thighs, leaving crescent-shaped marks on the brown skin. He presses her even harder against the wall and proceeds to position his hips upward, using his as an opportunity to claim her.

He dives in on her neck, working diligently to leave the bruises on her skin. He trails the marks all the way to her collarbone, eventually stopping to admire his work.

His eyes burn bright, his pupils dilated as he watches the marks shine in the dim light, spelling out his name.

His eyes fall onto her breasts that are bouncing with each thrust. He takes one into his mouth, softly biting at her nipple and using his tongue to soothe it. Y/n throws her head back, ignoring the ache that follows when hitting the wall.

"Please! Oh go-shhit!" Matt moans and looks down at their intertwined bodies, watching the way her juices splash on his abdomen.

"That's it baby, let it all go." He coos as her trembling body collapses into him, her grip still tight on his shoulders. She tries to put her legs down but he keeps her locked in place,

"I'm not done with you yet princess."

He opens the garage door and quickly rushes to his room, not struggling one bit as her carries the girl in his arms. He slams his bedroom door and throws her on the bed, her body bouncing on the silk sheets.

He stands over her, watching her body occasionally twitch, her chest rising and falling quickly as she pants in a delirious state. Her cunt glimmers in the light, her wetness pulling him into a trance. He falls to his knees and begins to lap at her cunt once again. She arches her back, going cross-eyed at the overstimulation.

She whines and shakes her head, trying to push his head away. "N-no more." She slurs, her mind hazy from the three orgasms she's had.

He yanks her closer by her thighs, and flattens his tongue, shaking his head back and forth. He circles her clit before sucking on the sensitive bud.

Her manicured fingers find their way to his head, gripping the soft brown locks and yanking. Her mind and body are fighting, her mind telling her to stop him before she passes out, and her body telling her to keep experiencing the rhapsodic moment.

Matt closes his eyes as he breathes in the scent of her juices, lapping at her like a dehydrated dog. He could eat at her for hours, finding her sweeter and more delectable than others. Her moans and withering body fueling his appetite even more. he snakes his other hand down and wraps it around his base, jerking himself off.

He moves back to her clit as he inserts two of his finger, moaning at the way her walls clamp down around them. All it takes is a few pumps and the curling of the digits before she releases over his face.

He swallows everything she gives him, making sure not one drop escapes him.

She manages to weakly push him away, her legs clenching as she heaves.

She didn't think her night would turn out like this.

She knew they were going to have sex, maybe one or two rounds, but she didn't expect four orgasms. She didn't expect him to make her squirt either, she's only ever been able to squirt alone and using a vibrator.

She looks over her knees, watching as Matt rises to his feet, his lips and chin glimmering in her mess. He walks around the bed and that's when the girl notices something.

He's still hard.

He hasn't came once.

That's when it finally hits her, she isn't done until he is.

She doesn't know how much more she can take. She's already had four orgasms, if she has one more she's sure she's going to pass out.

She watches with hazy and glossed eyes as he crawls over her, his eyes zeroed in on her as if she were his prey.

And she was, she was the prey and he was the predator.

he leans closer, his breath fanning over her face.

"You're pretty when you cry."

He rubs his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the mixture of makeup and tears. Suddenly, that same hand is wrapped around her throat. It's not tight, but it's enough to establish dominance.

"You gonna give me one more?" She shakes her head, beginning to cry softly. He shakes his head, shushing her softly, "Nuh uh, none of that baby-" He kisses over her face, his other hand running up and down her side affectionately.

He rests his forehead against hers, his blue eyes dark and predatory.

"You wanna be a good girl for me right? You wanna be a good girl and make me proud?" She whines and looks away from him, not being able to handle his gaze.

"Hey, hey, look at me-there she is, my pretty girl." He smiles seeing her dilated pupils, a clear sign that he did exactly what he planned on doing,

Dumbing her down and making her submit.

"You're gonna be a good girl and ride me, hm?" She nods, not thinking clearly in the slightest. He chuckles and taps her face a bit harder than he should have before he kisses her forehead. He flips them over, his hands finding their way to her waist.

Seeing that her mind is a bit hazy, he aids her in sinking down on him, throwing his head back at the familiar feeling of her walls that he has quickly grown to love.

She begins to rock her hips, throwing her head back and mumbling to herself. "You can do better than that can't you?" Matt taunts as he starts to lift her up and down. She nods absentmindedly and does her best to bounce on his cock, wanting to please him, needing to please him.

Her movements quickly become sloppy and Matt decides to take matters into his own hands. He plants both feet on the bed as he wraps his hand around her throat.

She gasps and lets out a choked sob as he begins to thrust upward, her nails digging into his chest. He watches the way her breasts bounce up and down, the way her jaw goes slack, and how her eyes roll back.

He grabs at her breast, twisting and tweaking her nipple.

His thighs become sore so he flips them over once again, missionary.

He throws her legs over his shoulder and re-wraps his hand around her throat. She lets out screams with each deep thrust he gives her, the bed banging against the wall. He notices the small bludge in her stomach and it drives him further.

He removes her legs from his shoulder and pushes them back to her head, his hips ricocheting off the back of her thighs.

Y/n screams go silent, her eyes rolling back and her jaw-dropping as he reaches deeper than he has the whole night.

"There it is, let go for me sweetheart." She lets out a bloodcurdling scream as she reaches her last orgasm of the night, her juices splashing all over Matt and herself. Matt gives 3 more deep thrusts before he stalls inside of her, painting her abused walls a nice shade of milky white.

Y/n lays there a sweaty panting mess, her eyes hallway closed as she remains limp. He looks down as he pulls out of her, the corner of his lips quirking seeing her flinch. he watches as his own seed spills out of her, falling onto the silk bedding beneath them.

He so badly wants to scoop it up and push it back inside her. he already marked her in more ways than one, it wouldn't hurt to mark her in another,

Right?

He's snapped out of his thoughts by his door swinging open, his brother Chris standing in the doorway looking pissed off. "I should beat your ass for keeping me up."

"Shut the fuck up and go to sleep Chris! We're done now so stop your bitching." Matt rolls his eyes as Chris slams the door. He hears a noise making him look back at Y/n.

She's asleep.

He chuckles knowing he truly pushed her to the limit. He climbs off the bed and rushes to his bathroom, cleaning himself up and slipping on a pair of boxers. He returns with a wet rag and cleans her up, slipping a clean shirt over her body.

He takes the sheets off the bed and throws them in his hamper, deciding to handle it later. He shuts off the lights and climbs into bed, grabbing his phone in the process. He checks his notifications and smirks when he comes across a particular one.

He mutes their conversation and throws his phone on the nightstand, ending the night with a smile on his face.

YUHHHHHHHHH!!!!! I DECIDED TO FEED YALL SUM GOOD CUZ I DONT BE POSTING FICS LIKE THAT SO I HOPE YALL ENJOY!!! LEMME KNOW IF YALL WANT A PART TWO!!!

XOXO PEACHES🍑

TAGLIST 🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore @stasiesturn @loljackwasfat @nicksmainbitch @ninacutebee16 @mayhem-72 @sturniolosmind @breeloveschris @mattslolita @mattsivy @guccifrog @hysteria-things @mrssturnioloo @teenagetrash00 @koris_009 @patscorner @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @nickuniversity @luverboychris @thenickgirl @riasturns @imwetforyourmom @junnniiieee07 @realuvrrr @milasturniolo @fwskullz @hearts4tatemcrae @mattandchrismakemewett @chrissystur @canthelpit0 @strnilo @demistyles @junovrsmp4 @heartsforchrisandmatt @maryx2xx @vecnasnose0 @freshsturns @xxsturnxx @pettydollie @crimsoncorpse @sturnssmuts @sturniolovoid @m0r94n

[servingrobin]

Hello. This is my first time asking for a request. Are you willing to do a prompt slow sex with Sanji as he’s injured from battle? I appreciate you. Thanks.

Love this idea!!!

Warnings: fem reader, oral (m-receiving), whiny Sanji, creampie, praise kink

Sanji was under strict orders from Chopper not to move around too much for at least a week. Nami and Usopp set up a rota for cooking for the time being and everyone just about ignored Sanji’s tantrums about other people using his kitchen.

You had the bright idea to bake for him, popping out whilst you were docked to find some fresh fruit and cream. You spent hours following the recipe you’d found, crushing biscuits, whipping cream, cutting strawberries. Finally you loaded your shortcakes onto a tray along with some tea, and made your way down to Sanji’s room.

“My love! I was just about going crazy not seeing your ethereal beauty at least once this day.”

You rolled your eyes at your partner’s usual antics and flourished the tray in front of you.

“I’ve made you treats for your recovery!” You grinned, proud of your haphazard work.

Sanji’s smile was blinding and the hearts in his eyes couldn’t get any wider. He scooted over in his bed so you could perch next to him, and you were careful to avoid his bandaged chest and arm.

You propped the tray over his lap and he gushed over your baking, puppy eyes in full force as Sanji begged you to feed him.

“I’m so injured mon amour, I simply cannot eat alone.” He fluttered those long eyelashes at you and though you sighed, you already knew you would do whatever he asked.

You picked up the fork and began to feed Sanji small bites of the shortcake, smirking as he moaned in appreciation with every mouthful. On one particular bite a string of strawberry syrup dripped down Sanji’s chin. You collected the syrup with your finger and popped it into your mouth, sucking deeply on the sweet taste.

Sanji stared at you open mouthed and you gave him a confused look that turned mischievous when you noticed the tent forming under the covers. No matter how injured, your lover really could get turned on by anything.

You moved the tray away to the side and pulled back the covers, climbing to settle between Sanji’s legs.

“What are you doing mon coeur? You know chopper has told me no exertion for at least a week.” Sanji’s face was getting redder and redder as he tried to calm his fast-heating blood.

“No exertion for you then my love, you’ll just have to let me take care of you.”

You smirked at him before pawing at the waistband of his boxers, gently nudging him to raise his hips so you could pull them down away from your prize. You salivated as his cock sprang free and bounced against his abdomen, rosy pink head glistening already with precum.

You leant down and licked a grand stripe from his balls to his tip, giggling at the way he jumped.

“You need to stay still my love.” You grasped his hips to hold him in place, and started an attack of kitten licks along his shaft.

Sanji groaned out and whined for more, long fingers threading through your hair to pull you closer. Your fingers indented his hips as you increased your pace of licking, bringing Sanji to full attention before you went any further.

When his tip was glowing a lustful red you moved up, taking his head in your mouth with a slurp. You suckled his tip for a few moments before making your way deeper, taking his length in your mouth with slow bobbing of your head.

You set a relaxed pace suctioning Sanji in and out of your mouth, relishing his moans and pants. He kept his hands in your hair, trying to push you faster every so often. You felt his tip bump the back of your throat and let out an exaggerated slurp, knowing how the noises set Sanji off. You kept him there for a while, dipping up and down only slightly to keep his full length in your mouth. You increased the pressure every so often and knew Sanji was getting close when he pushed your head to his groin, your nose brushing against his bare abdomen, holding you there in a vice as he tried to thrust up into your mouth.

He keened when you quickly released him with a pop, high pressure on his tip before you let go fully.

“Oh please my darling keep going, mon amour, my heart, please let me cum.” Sanji was babbling and begging now, breathing hard as he strained to re-enter your mouth.

“You know the rules, no over-exertion. Now be a good boy and sit still for me.” You cooed, reaching up to brush his hair away from his face, the sight of his reddened cheeks and glassy blue eyes sending a clenching shiver through you.

Sanji nodded furiously, laying back and placing his hands behind his head in a pseudo-relaxed pose. You grinned and rose up, perching yourself above him, knees caressing either side of his waist. Sanji was breathing hard now, eyes staring at you in wonder.

You took his cock in your hand and guided it to your entrance, lowering yourself down until he was fully seated inside you. You groaned at the stretch and sat still for a moment to adjust.

Before long Sanji was grasping your hips and squeezing, silently begging you to start moving. You dragged your pussy walls up his length at a leisurely pace, hovering with just his tip at your entrance before slamming back down.

Sanji let out a shout and threw his head back. The sight hurried you into bouncing up and down, fucking yourself onto his cock. He clawed at your chest with vigour and set about punching your nipples in time to your thrusts.

You were fast but careful not to jostle your lover too much, weight resting on your knees rather than his chest. You continued riding him, squeezing Sanji with your pussy as you did.

“Ooooh fuck mon cherie, squeezing me so nice, gonna fill you so full.” Sanji rambled, eyes fluttering as he neared his release.

You increased your pace as much as you could, breathing heavily as you slammed up and down on your lover, your own climax building quickly. With a loud squeal you came down hard on Sanji’s cock, walls a lock tight grip on him as you gushed your own release down his length and across his groin.

The feel of your wetness around him sent Sanji flying to his own release, spurting up into you as his tip kissed your cervix. He rocked his hips up a few times to pound the last of his release into you, before falling back with a groan.

The sight of you rising, your thighs covered in the sticky shine of his seed, sent droplets of blood running from Sanji’s nose. You laughed at your silly partner and moved to get a warm towel to clean the both of you up

[bullet-prooflove]

51.He's sitting in the corner with a six pack of Corona - I can so see that for Dean Winchester 👀🥺❤️

Tagging: @kmc1989 @district447 @cosmic-psychickitty @volumesofforgottenlore @spaghettificationandpretzels

Wow this one took a turn I wasn't expecting...

The sun’s just starting to set when you realise you’re being watched. It starts as a pricking on the back of your neck as you run your last lap around the field in Mill’s Park. You try to ignore the sensation and push on with the last hundred metres but it gets worse with every step because you can’t stop thinking about the last time you felt like you were being watched in a fire tower out in the woods.

Your Fleetwood Mac t-shirt clings to your form, the evening breeze ghosts over your balmy skin as you finally slow to a jog. You use the back of your wrist to brush the hair away from your face and that’s when you see him, sitting there on the fence at the corner of the field. There’s an untouched six pack of Corona resting by his feet and that’s when you know that this isn’t Dean Winchester you’re looking at.

You contemplate running but honestly you’re curious. It could have killed you at any point during the last five minutes but it hasn’t, it seems more interested in disguising itself as the man you love rather than harming you. As you approach, it tilts it’s head as if studying you. It’s gaze is curious and analytical, instead of the heat you’re used to from Dean.

“Are you going to share those?” You ask gesturing at the beer and it simply gestures for you to take one. You do, popping the cap off and tucking it in your pocket because you’ve spent too much time as a forest ranger cleaning up other people’s messes.

“You’re not Dean.” You say taking a sip from the beer and it smiles back at you showing far too much teeth.

“No I’m Michael.” It introduces itself. “How did you know?”

“The beer was the initial tip off, he’s usually on his second by the time I’m finished running.” You say gesturing to the rest of the Corona. “After that your body language, your eyes…”

“Ah yes.” Michael says his eyebrows furrowing into a frown as if he’s trying to recall something. “I should have kissed you shouldn’t I? You always respond very well to that.”

A flush creeps across your cheeks because you realise, this thing it has Dean’s memories and if it has those, then it knows you intimately.

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask Michael and he seems to take a moment to debate.

“No.” He says finally as he hops off the fence and takes a step towards you. “I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

“I don’t…”

He touches you then and you freeze at the sensation of his fingertips brushing lightly over your cheek as he looks into your eyes.

“He loves you, you know?” He murmurs, his nose tracing lightly along yours. “Do you love him too?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

“I wonder what that feels like…”

Before you have a chance to pull away, his arm wraps around your waist pressing you against him. His lips brush over yours and it’s like an explosion tearing through your nerve endings, igniting every single one of your synapses.  A wave of ecstasy crashes through you, followed by another and then another until you’re drowning in the euphoria, unable to keep your head up above the water. You try to pull away but he pins you to him, biting your lower lip as he grinds his hips against you. It’s too fucking much, something inside of you erupts like a star and before you know it, you’re coming in the middle of the fucking field you’ve been running track in since you were a teenager.  

“You fucking asshole.” You spit at him when he releases you and he looks mortally offended as you stumble back a step or two.

“Maybe if we did it together…”

“Do not fucking think about it.” You snap and he sighs as if you’re the one that’s being unreasonable.

“Don’t you want one last night with the man you love?” He asks you as he tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “It could be so much better than it was before…”

“But you’re not the man I love are you?” You say, your voice surprisingly steady. “You’re just wearing his body, thumbing through his memories.”

It’s like talking to a sociopath or a narcissist. He simply looks at you with an expression completely devoid of emotion and that’s when you realise maybe you aren’t too far away from the truth with that assumption.

“You can’t feel anything of your own can you?” You ask him, placing your hands upon your hips. “You can do the physical shit but there’s no emotional component is there? You don’t understand why that might not have been enjoyable for me because you don’t understand the concept of intimacy or love, they’re just words to you aren’t they?”

He looks stricken in that moment because until then, you don’t think he understood the disconnect between him and humanity. He doesn’t say anything in response to your words, he simply turns his back and walks away, leaving you pissed off in the middle of a field with soaked shorts and flushed features.

Your hands are still trembling just a little when you slip your cell phone out of the pocket of your shorts and dial a familiar number.

“Sam.” You respond, your eyes still fixed on Michael as he retreats into the distance. “What the fuck happened to Dean?”

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[merbear25]

Hey,so I have a sprained ankle and have been bed bound and sad about it, so I have a request, a Crocodile or Katakuri (you can choose) fic, where their fem! S/O gets hurt and has a sprained ankle, and they take care of them until they are healed(I'm not healed yet, but I need some fluff and domestic vibes to get me through this, for fun we can say they have a family of their own as well). You don't have a write this

Hello there! I’m sorry to hear about your ankle and hope you have someone to help take care of you. I did you one better and gave you both! I had some ideas for both of them, so why not? :) I hope you like what I’ve written for you and get well soon. 💜💜

CW: fluff, headcanons/scenario, fem!reader in mind but nothing specific mentioned, mentions of family au

Them taking care of you (Crocodile, Katakuri)

Crocodile

With how quickly you were running about the place, it was only a matter of time before you injured yourself. Even with all of his warnings to slow down and be careful, you’d ironically managed to evade those with no issue.

Despite his slight criticism of your recklessness, he was quick to come to your aid after you yelped from the sudden pain. Swooping you up in his arms, he gave you a few I told you sos. Albeit not what you wanted to hear, his delivery gave hints of tenderness and concern.

He was a busy man and couldn’t really make the time to wait on you. However, he ensured that only the best would take care of you—the best meaning those he and/or you trusted.

Each morning he gave you a light kiss on your forehead or cheek, so as not to wake you, and each night he made sure you were comfortable before you went to sleep.

I headcanon him being able to cook, so in saying that whenever he had time, he’d prepare your favorite dishes of his. He’d take pleasure in knowing that his food brought you some kind of comfort.

If you’d already started a family together, during the work day he’d have the usual caretakers look after them, so the children weren’t always asking you for things.

It did warm his heart to see them going in to talk to you though—sharing how their day was and asking how you were feeling.

Katakuri

He both literally and figuratively saw this happening from a mile away, but even with his warnings of what was sure to come, you carried on and eventually got hurt. The huffs at your stubbornness were kept to a minimum.

With those few moments into the future being crystal clear, he remained by your side and was there to swiftly carry you off to get treatment. You waited for him to give you some type of lecture, but he didn’t see any use in doing so. The consequences spoke louder than words.

He had many responsibilities, but he still did his best to prioritize your needs. With you bedbound, he checked in on you throughout the day or at least had someone he trusted to do it when he couldn’t.

Before he had to leave the house, he never forgot to ask if you needed anything. Even when you said you were fine, he still brought you things you were going to need: a fresh glass of water, extra pillows and blankets, and a snack if you got peckish.

When on his way home, he’d stop by his favorite bakeries to grab you something. If you weren’t that keen on sweets, then he’d pop into a place that sold your preferred snacks/drinks.

If you had a family, he’d like to spend a little bit of time in your room together—talking or watching something together. He liked feeling that warmth shared when around family and he was sure you did too.

He was a cuddler when it came to sleeping, but of course, your comfort came first. With you sound asleep, he inched closer to feel a bit of your warmth against him. Being careful not to disturb you, he laid down and let the gentle sounds of your breaths lull him to sleep.

[talaok]

I’m thinking like smt spicy where Pedro (Joel if you write the last of us fic) catching his s/o masturbating and then yk goes from there like take in in the direction you want but like make is spicy? Thank you o love your work!-liz<3

Pairing: Boston!Joel x f!reader

Warnings: Smut| f masturbation, daddy kink, dom! joel (in other words Joel makes you play with yourself while he watches as a punishment cause hes hot and he can do whatever he wants)

A/n: thank you for the really hot request liz💖

*not proofread*

And to think he thought you were cheating on him

he'd just got back from an assignment when he heard a soft moan coming from down the hallway

His heart was beating out of his chest as he approached the bedroom door, and he even debated for a moment whether to open it or not.

he was just so mad and so hurt at the same time that he didn't know what to do, until…

until he heard it

"Joel" 

It was so soft, so low, that he wouldn’t have heard a thing if he had been but an inch further.

But his good ear was to the door, and if he wasn’t sure before, it took only a moment for any doubt to leave his mind

“Please Joel- please”

And that was it. 

He’d barged in before he even had time to think.

And just as he’d predicted, you were splayed prettily on the bed, your legs bent and spread open with your feet on the covers.

You were naked from the waist down, your torso drowning in one of his flannels.

His gaze started on your bare legs, on your pretty thighs, the same ones he dreamed of living between, and trailed up to where the silhouette of your tits shaped your shirt

And it felt like an eternity, but really it was seconds, because as soon as he entered the room you had scrambled to shut your legs as a gasped "baby!" fled your mouth

He smiled that stupid smile of his he always had on when he knew he had the upper hand, when he knew he got to play with you

“What are you up to?” he asked

“N-nothing”

He tutted at that, shaking his head as he stalked towards the bed, ending up right by your side, his tall and broad body towering over yours.

“You're gonna lie straight to my face, sweetheart, is that it?”

The guilt immediately set in, as you tried to set your shirt in a way that would cover you more

“N-no I'm sorry- I was just…”

“Go on” he urged, nodding

“I was... touching myself “

"mhh" he hummed, his hand going to your face to gently move some hair out of your face "my pretty girl couldn't even wait for me to come back home?"

Your eyes widened as you tried to explain

"I-I thought you'd be home late I-"

"no no now" he shook his head, interrupting you "I don't care about your excuses" he cooed "You've been a bad girl, "his fingers trailed your jaw "and bad girls get punished"

"no please daddy I just- I was just really needy and you weren't here-please, I promise I didn't do anything bad"

"but you did do something bad darlin'" he corrected "and now since you were such an impatient little brat... you're gonna show me just what you were doing"

Your mouth parted in stunner, as your eyes started analyzing his face to see if he was being serious

"b-but I thought maybe you could... help"

"oh no" he hummed, his hand leaving your face as he baked away just to sit at the end of the bed, the mattress creaking beneath his weight "You wouldn't learn a thing from that now, would you?" 

"I-I"

"I don't wanna hear it" he shut you down "Now spread those legs and let daddy see what you were doing without his permission"

And just like that, you had obliged, opening your thighs to him, who hummed in approval at the sight of your pretty pussy on display just for him.

"c'mon now, I ain't got all day" he demanded, giving your calves a little pat 

Your movements were extraordinarily slow as you brought two of your fingers to your mouth, popping them in to get them wet just to let the travel downwards to your slit.

You waited for his nod before you dived in, starting your usual routine.

You began at your clit, drawing slow circles on it until you felt your hole beg for some attention,

You moaned softly as you gently pushed two of your digits in, finding no resistance, even when Joel's dark eyes were watching your every move as if he were a hawk.

"what were you thinking about?" he asked, making your fingers still 

"no, keep going"

"I was" you stuttered, starting to move your fingers in and out of yourself curling them up to that sweet spot that made you feel all dizzy "I was thinking about you"

"What about me?"

You sighed loudly, struggling to keep your eyes open 

"I was imagining it was you"

"fingering you?"

"n-no" you shook your head, your breathing quickening just as your pace "I was pretending it was your cock" you confessed "that you were on top of me and that you were inside of me"

"'s that right?" he smirked, the smugness evident in his tone

"y-yeah" you whimpered, feeling so close and yet so incredibly far from your release.

You tried fastening your pace even more, scissoring your fingers, and applying what pressure you could manage with your palm on your clit, but it just- it didn't compare to the real thing... especially when the real thing was tucked in his pants right in front of you.

"J-Joel please I need your help" you begged, your voice a breathy whimper "I-I can't- It's just not-"

"I don't wanna hear it" he spoke "You brought this on yourself, sweetheart. Now focus, or you're gonna have to watch me do the same thing to myself, and you're not gonna get your fill tonight"

The thought woke you up from your trance, feeling like a nightmare

"n-no please" you pleaded, your lips turned to a pout

"less complaining sugar" he cooed, his hands on your calf "Let me see how you can make yourself cum, and I'll give you what you want"

"r-really?" 

"yes," he nodded "but only if you're good, can you do that for me, can you show me how my girl makes herself cum on her fingers?"

"Yeah daddy" you promised, a renewed vigor in your voice and movements at the promise "I-I'll be good, I- I swear"

"that's my girl" he praised, making you blush and squirm and only fomenting the ball of pressure creating in your tummy.

"Oh my god" you murmured " I-I'm about to cum daddy"

"c'mon now" he cooed "show me how good you can be"

And that was it, countless little fireworks went off at the same time in your whole body as you whimpered and moaned into the darkness of your closed eyes

"good girl" he grinned, his hand on the big tent that had created in his pants.

You sat up immediately, your chest still heaving, your fingers still wet

"C-can I have my reward now?" you asked, more eager than ever

And to that, he smirked

"Show me how badly you want it"

Such a simple sentence, and it took about a second before you were kneeling between his legs.

[starieq]

“Lovin her seems tiring..” Part 2

Taggies/ warnings; Pro!HeroKats, cheating, fingering, creampie, blowjob, ridding, cumming, squirting, swearing, mention of sex toys, dirty talk, titty fuck, drinking, drunk messaging, dry humping.

part 3!

After that crazy call with your boss, you went right into making reservations so you don’t get yelled at the next week of work. 

Wait. Is his girlfriend coming? Should you call and ask? Would he be mad? Do you reserve two rooms? One for you, and one for him? Of course you would! Why wouldn’t you? Don’t make this weird y/n.

You had a lot of what if’s. But, you wanted to be brave and call your hot headed hot boss. 

ring, ring, ring.

“The hell ya want now? Thought i made myself fuckin clear.” He grumbles into the phone.

“U-uh,” you stutter. “S-so, is uhm, Kira coming like she usually d-does, or..-“ 

“No. Just make two rooms. One for you and me.”

“Okay! Thank you for letting me know. B-but i do have a question Mr. Dynamight.” 

“Lay it on me.” He says calmly? Wow, you’ve never heard him so calm before. 

“So, why I’m I coming..?” You ask a little scared.

“Need ya to come with me cause you’re my damn assistant and you should do as I say. See ya next week y/n.”

He hangs up. God, his voice was so sexy. You couldn’t get enough of it. At least his bitch of a “girlfriend” isn’t coming. 

You go to work the next week after your short weekend. You get packed to go to Tokyo, and you plan to maybe go to Tokyo Disneyland since it’s not like your gonna be on patrol with him, right? 

Right? 

You make your way to the bus station to get to the Dynamight agency. It was snowing and a horrible day to wear a white high waist mini skirt with a cute flower cardigan. At least you have a snow jacket and shoes in the office. 

You pay for your ticket and get on the bus. The bus station was pretty packed, you cant be late today. You decided to go on your phone to see the news, until you get a text from your boss.

:Dynamight🧡💥: I need ya to get to the fuckin office now. Go to my office when you’re here.

:y/n: sorry! Bus station is a little full today. I’ll get there as fast as I can! :D

You see the Dynamight agency and run out the bus as fast as you could. You knew Bakugo was a hot head and the last person you wanna piss off. It was kinda hard to run in the thick snow with uggs on, but you couldn’t care less. You NEEDED to get to your boss. 

You open the large doors and greeted the front lady that at gives you little candies. 

“Thank you Mrs. Hellen!” You wave goodbye and pop the candy in your mouth. You get to the elevator and press floor 8. As you get on, you notice you have a big whole in your tights. Fuck. Those were new too! Damnit. 

You gracefully walk to Bakugo’s office and hear grunting on the other side of the door.

You knock on the door and you hear Bakugo startle and race to get up. You’re not sure what he was doing, but your little dirty mind thinks something else. 

“What-“ he looks down at you. “Get in here,” He pulls your wrist inside his office. 

“Good morning to you too, Mr. Dynamight.” You give him a warm smile and he falls back on his chair. 

You notice his face is a little red and his cheeks are slightly puffed. You couldn’t help but also noticed a bulge in his hero cargo pants. 

“Ay, eyes up here sweetheart.” He says with a a smug smirk.

“O-oh sorry. I was just thinking about my uh, hole in my tights.” You said. Nice save, you think to yourself.

“Uh huh.” He says turning his chair so the back faces you.

“So Mr. Dynamight-“

“We’re leaving tonight, did ya pack your shit?” You noticed he clenched his jaw when he span his chair to face you again.

“Yeah.. uhm, are you going to pick me up or-“

“Yeah. Text me your address when I leave.” 

“Ok.. thank you for your time.” You spin on your heel to leave. You opened the door and took slow steps. 

Well, guess you should start working.

@bakugounextswife

[seiwas]

for your ask! kita and farmers market au where he has a little stand and sells his rice :)

heids!! thanks for playing with me 🥺 this is an adorable au!! shoutout to @mieiri for helping me find pics 🥹

kita + farmers market au

kita joins the farmer’s market on every other sunday of the month.

his rice stall is quaint, barely even a full stall if he’s considering the technicalities. the display on his table consists of baskets of rice, all in varying grains and types, along with a few spices from akane-san, the middle-aged lady he agreed to partner with to help her cut booth costs.

it’s a good partnership, he thinks—he’s learned a fair bit about spiced rice.

business today is as usual: slow in the early morning, but bustling once it reaches 8:30 a.m.; he’s become familiar with the locals just as much as they trust him and the quality of his rice. and everything is as it usually is, except—

“hello,” you approach his booth, your smile a little shy as you gather what to say.

akane-san glances from the side.

in your hands lie two jars of jam, one a deep purple, and the other a bright orange.

he tilts his head slightly to acknowledge you, “good morning.”

you offer the jars of jam while chuckling nervously, “we’re neighbours,” you gesture towards the booth beside his, “this is my first time here, so…”

akane-san rises from her seat, smiling at you graciously, “those look delicious, my dear. you made them yourself?”

you look at her, flustered as you nod. akane-san nudges kita closer, his feet nearly stepping over yours as he inches forward.

“this is very kind of you, thank you,” kita offers his palms for you to place the glass jars on. akane-san reaches for the purple one and pops it open, the scent of wild berries filling the space between you.

she hums, long and delighted. kita smiles softly, “welcome to the market. i’m sure your jams will be a hit.”

.

it’s your sixth farmer’s market now, the fourth one you’ve spent as kita’s stall neighbour. and it’s been nice, having your company around, he thinks.

you are sweet, just as the jams you make are, and you never fail to give him a jar or two before selling even starts.

in exchange, he gives you rice, different grains and different types; he learns about your cooking schedule, and what you intend to cook for the rest of the week, just so he can give you the correct ones.

akane-san tells him that he should ask you out.

“you smile a lot around her,” she mumbles to him as you walk back to your booth. you’d just finished grabbing some lunch with kita during your break.

“it would be rude to frown, akane-san,” he settles back behind the display, hiding his smile.

she tuts, jokingly hitting him on the arm, “don’t be all smart ass with me.”

kita laughs, its sound echoing down to your booth. you turn to his direction upon hearing it and end up locking eyes. much to his surprise, he doesn’t turn away, and instead settles into giving you a smile.

it’s not like he denied what akane-san said anyway.

.

something is different the day kita walks up to your booth with a carton of eggs in his hands instead of rice.

(you’d mentioned something about wanting to try your hand at a quiche—that must be the reason why, you tell yourself).

he stands in front of your booth, shirt tucked in a little more properly than it normally is, and hands over the carton.

“fresh from the farm,” he starts, “thought i’d bring you some.”

“you didn’t have to,” you reach for it gently, your fingertips grazing the dips between his knuckles as you lower your head slightly.

“thank you for your sponsorship,” you add on, teasingly, “i’ll have to let you try the quiche now, once i make it.”

he laughs, waiting as you take your time opening the carton.

and when you do, the look on your face makes him wish he captured the moment. maybe with that polaroid camera atsumu gifted him last christmas.

inside the carton of eggs is a small cluster of flowers, handpicked (you can tell) and joined together by knotted grass.

(it’s sweet, you think, that there are even a few stems of a rice plant in the mix.)

the expression on your face is a mixture of confusion and surprise, and kita has never been one to be flustered or nervous for anything, but—

“i,” he clears his throat, “have been meaning to ask, actually,” another cough. your stare shoots straight into his nerves.

“would—“ you begin.

“would—“ he manages to say at the same time.

you both giggle, and he clears his throat again, reaching his hand out, “sorry, please go first.”

(the sentence forms itself in your mind, and you stare at the flowers again, a glimpse of courage, before you speak—)

“would you want to make some quiche with me?”

and kita smiles. is ‘no’ even an answer to anything you ask?

[yoditopascal]

Work From Home Pt 2

warnings: established relationship, fluff and smut, sending nudes, minors DNI

Part 1

Time seemed to slow down as Jason raced his way through traffic.

Just as he begins approaching your shared neighborhood, his police radio goes off, it's a bomber hostage situation down by Crime Alley a little ways away from the Hill… your neighborhood.

Are you shitting me?

He barely had his phone out before he was turning his motorcycle back around.

‘Gonna be a little late, don't wait up’

When he finally gets home he finds you on the rooftop when he gets home, gazing at the stars or rather the sun that was starting to rise. 

“The hell happened to you?” you asked, taking in his appearance, he looked disheveled, his clothes torn and bloody,  body hunched over as he leaned over the edge of the roof to balance himself, his arm wrapped around his ribs as he rubbed at them softly 

“Oh you know the usually bad guy bullshit, except this time he had a bomb” his voice modulator answered though his helmet

“Oh fuck you aight?” you asked walking over to him to further assess the damage but he stops you

“Yeah baby I’ll live”

He walks down the fire escape to your building, you leading the way, before you both enter your shared bedroom through the window. He stalks into the room and disappears into the bathroom, the sound of running water soon fills the dim room moments later as he hops into the shower

Jason watches the murky mixture of dirt and blood swirl at his feet before it disappears down the drain. He finishes up quickly before he can get lost in his thoughts and heads back into the room boxers on as he towel dries his hair.

“C’mere.”

You take his towel and begin to messily dry his hair for him. “That’s better,”

“Now pop a squat” you tell him as you pushed him down to sit on the mattress, on the nightstand by the bed was an array of medical supplies ready to patch him up, another nightly routine of yours.

The scrapes and bruises that litter his frame are much more obvious now that he’s showered, causing you to frown as you get to work cleaning his scrapes and wounds. He raises his arm over his head so you can get better access to the injuries on his torso, that's where the worst one was, it was gonna need a couple of stitches.

His eyes follow your every movement as you go about your business, humming while you worked to break the quiet, silently observing and admiring how gentle you are with someone like him, someone who’s never been treated like this before in his entire life. He’s not sure how he got lucky enough to have you in his life but he sure as hell can’t imagine what it would be like without you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you chuckle as you plaster a bandage to his scraped arm.

“Like what?” he feigns innocence.

“Like— like that. You know, like you’re gonna devour me or something.”

“Maybe I do wanna devour you.”

“Shut up and stop moving,” you snort as you  sit next to him on the bed, attempting to focus on stitching up his chest. The darkening of your cheeks deepens.

Just as you finish up the last stitch his much bigger hand grabs yours, forcing you to stop what you're doing.

“What?” you ask cocking your head to the side as you raise an eyebrow at him

“Nothing.” he shrugs caressing the back of your hand before letting you go, you skin soft under his rough calloused hands

“Ok nothing you wanna talk about it?” you asked setting the stitches down and scooting a little closer.

“You wanna talk about those pics you sent earlier?” he asked, it was his turn to cock an eyebrow up at you. Smiling brightly, having almost forgotten them, you shrug back at him as you get up to put the medical supplies back in the first aid kit in the kitchen. “No idea what you're talking about baby.”

“You can't be sending pics like that when I’m out working.” he says grabbing you arms pulling you back down to the bed, he gets closer practically towering over you as his lips hovering over yours.

“Maybe you should work from home more often then.” You say closing the distance between you just before you could move in to kiss him Jason pulls back a teasing glint in his eyes

“Please…” you plead

“Please what?” he chuckles relishing in the idea of having you beg for him

“Please touch me....” you said sealing the deal

Jason presses his lips to you gently once and then a second and third time, as if testing the waters, before he reaches to grab the back of your head deepening the kiss, your stomach begins to flutter and knot with excitement.

He presses you down against the mattress as he continues to ravage. His kisses trailing down your neck as his hand explores your plush rolls, he slowly begins to make his way to your chest.

“These are in the way.” he grumbles sitting up

Without warning, he pulls your shirt up over your head and your pajama shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor below, exposing your bare skin to the cool night air.

Jason gives you no time to respond as he dips his head back down, stealing another kiss before he takes your nipple in his mouth. A shudder wrecks its way through your body as he nips and licks at your chest with surprising gentleness, you throw your head back reveling in the sensation. 

“Fuuuuuck me” you rasped out as he continues to suck and bite at your chest, earning yourself a chuckle from him.

“We’re getting there baby, we’re getting there.”

He’s getting sloppier, more impatient, you can tell as he reaches back up to kiss and nip at your lips, his clothed dick grinding against your inner thigh as he does so but he doesn’t want to stop, not until he can completely convey to you just how much you mean to him with his lips and teeth.

His boxer, which had been barely containing him, finds themselves on the bedroom floor in a matter of seconds. The knot in your stomach tightens at the sight of him, tip wet and sticky with precum.

Before you could scoot back and situate yourself on the bed so he could get between your thighs like you wanted him Jason grabs your hips and rolls over with you so that you’re on top of him.

“You’re in charge today princess.” he smirks up at you

You lean down and kiss him hard, his cock pressing against your belly, and drag your hands down his chest as he looks at you intensely, palms rounding over the globes of your ass as you line him up with your entrance.

You sink down onto him slowly, enjoying every inch as it slid inside you, slick cunt stretching around his girth. You roll your hips and when they meet his, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, watching as his eyes flutter shut, a tiny groan working its way past his lips as you let yourself  fully adjust to him.

With one hand on his chest to prop yourself up, and begin rolling your hips as you ride him, Sparks of pleasure radiate through your body as you move, your muscles contracting around him you rest one hand on his shoulder the other reaches out for him absentmindedly holding his hand in you lust fueled haze.

He mumbles your name, rolling his hips softly to meet yours. Your lips part in a moan, digging your nails into his shoulder as he slid in and out of you effortlessly as he begins to thrust up into you. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your back to bring you in for another deep kiss while also pulling little gasps and moans out of your mouth with his tongue.

“God damn, baby, you're squeezing me so damn tight,” Jason huffs, burying his face against your chest, his thrust are becoming a stuttering mess, He lets out a sharp breath and grabs your hips to pull you down onto him hard drawing loud lewd sounds from you that he never gets tired of hearing. His cock twitches for a moment against your walls before a warmth fills you. He curses, his head dropping to your chest as he pushes a few stuttered thrust into your core painting your insides hot and white as you come with him. 

Finally releasing you Jason sighs, a satisfied look on his face as he trembles ever so slightly beneath you, you sigh contentedly too, as you pull yourself off of him, and fall with your back to the mattress. The whole room is a mess, comforter and sheets a tangled disaster, clothes strewn about all over the floor but in your exhaustion you can’t find it in you to care.

“You didn’t tear your stitches did you?” you asked between breaths with a laugh. 

He chuckled too, looking up at you with lust-clouded eyes. 

“Don’t think so.” He sighed, kissing you softly, already heading towards that post-adrenaline sleepiness. 

“Good boy.” you mutter as sleep starts to cloud your vision.

He pulls you on top of him, he likes having you on top, your soft breast pressed against his hard chest, it's enough to almost get him going again, almost, if it wasn’t for the fact that you were already drifting off to sleep in his arms. 

A smile crosses his lips as he leans down to kiss your forehead, a yawn escapes him as he pulls a sheet over you both.

“Get some rest.” he tucks you both in.

“Welcome home Jay.” you yawn as you kiss him on the chin, both of you drifting off to sleep.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 44

Joyous Walpurgisnacht: Part II

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Please share your screams in my ask or a reblog!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Laufeyson returns with a second drink. You still have your first, nursing it as you find your head spinning with the activity all around. As more guests stream through, raucous as they meet others they know, the stage hums and the speakers crackle to life. 

Bragi begins his set, a brief tidings for the event before he strums into a tune. You wiggle your foot to the beat, peering over at the full band behind the lead. It's all so big and bright.

You turn back, reaching for your glass, as Laufeyson draws from his own. He watches you over the brim, eyes traveling down your body, focusing on the movement of your foot. You still it and uncross your legs, setting your soles flat.

He puts his drink down, half-finished. You sit back and fold your hands in your lap, peering around evasively. He probably saw you slouching or was annoyed by your fidgeting. You blow out between your lips as the party blooms around you.

Voices thrum in ripples beneath the steady rhythms of the stage, hollers go up now and then, piquing your interest as you look over to see a group cluster. They stand around smaller tables framed by two chairs each. You can barely see those sitting at them moving small pieces around the board.

“Hnefatafl!” The cry goes up as Thor stands and the pieces scatter on the table before him. You quickly look away as his head pops up above his audience.

“An old game,” Laufeyson explains, “rather dry for an event like this.”

You raise your brows curiously. You’re almost tempted to ask him more but think better of it. He hardly seems interested. Distant thunks bring another roar from a crowd further down. You twist in your chair to see across the field large round boards set up. A man with blond hair hurls an axe towards the wood, embedding it. You flinch and face the table again.

“Chaos,” Laufeyson mutters.

“Yes,” you agree, your toe tapping on the grass until you stop it again.

You sink into a silence which exists only between you and him. The furor of the party crackles around you, circling you in a whirlwind. There in the eye of the storm, there is no sound. It is deafeningly hollow.

“Ahem,” the clearing of a throat and tap on your shoulder brings you around. Laufeyson looks over your head, fixing his posture as you face Odin, “hiding in the corner?”

“Not exactly, father,” Laufeyson says, once more taking up his drink.

“There is much to enjoy. Your mother’s put in so much effort, I’d for her to see you glowering like this,” Odin reproaches.

“I do not glower,” his son snips.

“Mm, yes, well, you are more than welcome to wallow alone,” Odin replies flippantly, “but you needn’t cast a cloud over others…” he shifts to face you, opening a hand to you, “might I be so humbled as to request a dance from the lovely lady?”

You look up at him and your mouth falls open, “dance? I don’t know… how.”

“Well, then it is a good thing I must take it slow,” Odin insists, “it isn’t so hard to learn.”

Laufeyson sighs and drains the last of his whiskey. He stands abruptly, “I need to top up.”

Odin eyes him tensely but doesn’t remark. He looks back to you, “you don’t need to sit in his shadow all night. One dance, fair maiden of Walpurgisnacht, I see you can barely contain yourself.”

You look down as his gaze falls to your foot, once more wiggling. You still it and accept his hand. You hope Laufeyson isn’t too upset. It is only his father after all, he can’t be too put out.

“Thank you,” you stand and let him lead you away.

Odin brings you amid the other dancers, on a flat white floor laid out over the grass. He guides you to face him and helps you place your hands before he hooks an arm around you. He’s gentle but firm in leading you, counting with the rhythm between directing you how to move your feet.

“That’s it, dear, you’re a natural,” he praises as you let the music guide you, “and a beauty. That dress is very becoming, though it pales on you. You look immaculate…” he continues to sway with you, “my son is a fool not to say it himself.”

“Odin,” you look past him sheepishly.

“It is the truth. You are glowing and he is playing the troll, secreting you away from the light,” he tuts and shakes his head.

“It isn’t my party,” you utter.

“You belong here,” he insists, “don’t you think otherwise.”

“I am the house manager–” you rebuff.

“You aren’t,” he says, “my son didn’t get his senselessness from me. No, that is bred of mistrust. Fear, truly.”

“Odin, it’s true–”

“If he says it, it cannot be,” he counters, “when he looks at you, he is not looking at a house manager. He will claim I do not know him but he is my son. I see through him, it is only a pity he looks in the mirror and cannot do the same.”

You stare at the button of his vest. You don’t believe him. You don’t want to. You’re too afraid to think it could ever be true. Yet how can you tell him the truth? That would be humiliating. You are only half-right, your son wants more of me but only to sate his worst urges. It isn’t sentiment, it is convenience.

“Pardon,” a voice has you tripping over your own feet but Odin keeps you balanced, turning you as another figure stands close, “father, may I… take over?”

“Ah, but we are having such fun,” Odin taunts and twists you away from Laufeyson again.

“Yes, it seems so,” Laufeyson says thickly, “perhaps the next song…”

“Oh, don’t be so mopey,” Odin stops you as he chuckles, “I was only trying to pep you up, yes? It’s a party.” Odin raises your hand and kisses it gently, “thank you, dear, for humouring an old man.”

He stands straight and lets you go. He faces his son but you cannot see his expression, only the way Laufeyson’s eyes gleam back dangerously. Odin departs and Laufeyson’s attention flits onto you. He takes a step forward, once more looking you up and down.

The music ebbs and a new song begins. The soft plucking begins, then the reedy tone of a flute. Mr. Laufeyson offers his hand and you accept it, awkwardly coming closer as he sweeps his arm around you, his hand stretched over your lower back. He looks down to place his feet with yours before he begins. He is lithe and graceful, you feel otherwise.

“This is your song,” he says as the melody comes clearer.

You tweak an ear as you follow it, then lyrics begin.

“Moon River, wider than a mile…” 

Your heart pulses in recognition. You smile towards the stage. You didn’t expect him to truly do it but it’s wonderful.

“I like it,” Laufeyson says, “it is very… whimsical.”

You turn your head straight, focusing on your footwork, careful not to trod his feet, “it is.”

He’s silent as you feel his gaze upon you, bearing down. He must be annoyed by how you follow his lead, uncertain in your body. How pathetic; never had a birthday cake, never had a dance. You look up and gulp shakily.

You almost stop dead in your heels as you see something less than agitated in his expression. He is fixated on you without a trace of chagrin. His hand shifts on your back, his other on your hip as you hold his shoulder and his upper arm. He is handsome in the dimming approach of the evening.

“When I said before that you look nice,” he begins, “I was remiss. You look… beyond anything I could ever put into words. You are magnificent, pet.”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you stutter, “well, you look very handsome as well.”

“I am not looking for compliments,” he dismisses, “and I think I owe you more than that.”

You don’t know what to say. Is it an apology? You don’t know entirely what he means. He’s had three glasses of whiskey, just like that night, and in the morning, he was just the same as before. You won’t count on the kindness he finds at the bottom of a bottle.

A sudden flash makes you squeak. You look over as Yvonne smiles over the large lens. You give a nervous giggle and brace Laufeyson tighter. He sweeps you away from the camera.

“Tomorrow, we will talk,” he avows, “but we can enjoy tonight. It is Walpurgisnacht and it is a new beginning.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He winces and exhales, “can I be Loki for tonight?”

“Loki,” you echo, “yes.”

As the song ends, the heat speckling in your skin licks to flames. You don’t know if it’s being so close or his constant gaze or the thought of tomorrow and whatever you might talk about. You’re sweating and you're uncomfortable and you need a breath.

“Excuse me, um, I need the bathroom,” you gently pull away. 

He reluctantly lets you go, his hand lingering on your hip as he points, “there, in the tents, I believe mother had facilities put up.”

“Thanks,” you offer a weak grin and step away from his grasp.

“I’ll be here,” he promises as you go.

You try not to hurry. You don’t want him to see how desperate you are to be away. It isn’t him, it’s you. This is all too much for you. It isn’t you. You’re not one of these people but they treat you like one. You’re just a poor girl born of cigarette ash.

You find your way to the tent housing the stalls. You take your time and try to collect yourself. Your nerves are tingling in your fingertips and where he held you; just along your lower back and your hip. It’s that urge that worries you, the one that made you think of resting your head on his shoulder.

You emerge and use the outdoor sinks set up in front of the stalls. You dry off and measure your breaths. You can do this. You go back down towards the fervour and as the night sets in, the large lights come to life and light the crowd.

You search the clusters of bodies. Where is Mr. Laufeyson? As you inch along the threshold, a shadow shifts to your right. You glance over but the figure disappears. You shake off the eerie sensation creeping down your spine and march forward into the tide of people.

You weave around bodies and tables, dizzy from the flurry all around you. You stagger as you’re nearly stampeded by a rowdy group of guests and you spin around to face a table in the far corner. There you find a scene that makes your heart plummet into your stomach.

You can’t stop yourself as you near the pair. Laufeyson, Loki, sits in a chair, two drinks on the table; his whiskey and another bright purple concoction. But beside him is Sif. She leans forward, her wrist clutched in his grasp as she whispers through the curve in her delicate lips. He stares back at her, eyes fiery, jaw locked.

“Loki, we had something good…” you hear her slither as you get closer. Her blue eyes dance over to you and her lips curl, “I still love you.”

She looks at him again and smashes her lips into his. He winces and turns his head, his gaze finding you as you stop, paralysed as you watch helplessly. You blink and swallow, wetting your lips as you bring your hand up to your sickened stomach.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You turn and race away on clacking heels. You don’t look back as you elbow through bodies, running without direction, without escape. You just need to be away from it. All of it.

You find the pathway into the garden, plunging into the brush as your heels wobble with each step. You stumble and grunt in frustration. You stop and bend to unbuckle the shoes, tossing them away before you hurry on.

You find the stone gazebo, lit only by moonlight, and throw yourself inside. You land on a stone bench and hang your head in the frame of an arched window. You deflate as you hunch over, trembling so much it hurts.

You won’t cry. Why would you do that? It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. Mr. Laufeyson only said you looked magnificent then turned around to kiss his ex-wife. And why wouldn’t she? She’s much more than you’ll ever be. She fits neatly into their puzzle.

“Ah, little maid,” the gazebo darkens as the moonlight disappears as if a clouds passed over the nocturnal guardian, “what is the matter?”

You sit up and shudder as Thor’s burly silhouette limns in silver. You brace the edge of the bench and stand.

“N-nothing, I was only… having a break, I should head back–”

“It is peaceful out here,” he says, unmoving as you gesture around him. He fills the entire doorway.

“Yeah, but er, I should–”

“How do you like Walpurgisnacht? Are you having fun?” He asks, propping and elbow against the stone.

“Sure, I guess.”

“And did you play any games?” he sneers.

You falter and lean back on one heel. You have a bad feeling. You wring your hands as the air breezes in, a shiver rattling you.

“No…”

“That is too bad. This is a day of fun! Games are fun, aren’t they?”

“Please, Thor, I have to get back–”

“Let’s play a game,” he ignores your protest and steps into the gazebo, “I know a special game.”

“Thor,” you croak as you glance towards the windows. You see the lights above the trees and hear the muted noise of the partygoers and Bragi’s tunes. You look back to him as he takes another step towards you.

“You can be the mouse…” he says, “and I shall be the cat.”

“No, please, I don’t want–”

“You best be nimble, mouse. for the cat is hungry,” he growls as he looms closer, “and ready to pounce!”

He lunges and you jump back. Your shoulder hits the wall and you cry out. You turn and feel around, nearly falling through the opposite doorway as your feet slip over the stone steps. You stumble at the bottom, slipping in the grass as twigs and stones poke into your bare soles.

You hear him behind you, laughing as he makes a steady but easy pursuit. You sprint across the small field towards the row of brush, skirt catching on bramble as you dive into the wilderness. You don’t know where you’re going, you just need to get away.

Your feet slip on moss as dirty sticks to your skin. You puff as you pump your arms, glancing back over your shoulder frantically. He isn’t running, but he is coming. You can hear him laughing.

You swerve around, towards the noise of the party. You just need to get back there. You need to find a path. You don’t know where you are, the further you go, the more lost you are. The noises fade further and further. Oh god, wrong way!

Suddenly, your toe hits something hard and you nosedive forward. You don’t have time to get your hands up as your face crunches into a thick trunk and you collapse to the ground. You roll over as you taste iron on your tongue. Ow.

You sit up and touch your throbbing nose. As you plant your feet to stand, you hear a rustle and suddenly, you’re pushed flat to your back. Thor snickers as he holds you down by your shoulders, straddling you beneath him as he huffs.

“Ah, I’ve caught you, mouse,” he taunts as you squirm and whimper, “now the cat must feast.”

[eepwriting]

hello there 💖 your friendly iii loving reader here again.

popping in to see if you have time for a new request; I would love to read your take on slightly subby iii fic where reader, who loves when iii dirt talks them, tries to give him a little dirty praise in return. possibly calling him a good boy? possibly putting a hand on his throat to see how he reacts?? would love it if it takes him by surprise and he unexpectedly loves it 🤭

thanks again so so much for your time and your amazing writing 🤩🙏🏻🫡

My Good Boy ✶ III x GN! Reader

Warnings: nsfw, smut, dirty talk, praise, light choking, no plot, we get right into it bby

ANONNNN im smooching you on the forehead for this!!! I love it, thank you for your request!! 🤍🤍 More of a blurb btw. Also IM SO SORRY I’ve been gone. I literally thought about this blog everyday and have felt so bad but I think I’m back 😎

!! mdni !!

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“You love it, baby, don’t you?”

III’s mouth rests against your own as he speaks. “Love it when I stretch you out, huh?”

You wanted to answer, you really did but it was almost impossible to get the words out. The way he slowed the pace of his hips, making sure you felt every possible inch of him, combined with the filth coated words he spoke had you practically choking on your breath.

“Yes, baby…cock always feels s’good. You always feel so good baby.” Your words are breathy, your heels digging into his hips in an effort to keep him close to you. The blush that starts on iii’s neck and crawls up to his cheeks is bright. He lets out the quietest groan and leans down to slot his head in the crook of your neck.

It was rare for you to speak during the act. Whether it be from nervousness to actually speak the filthy thoughts, to not being able to force them out due to overwhelming pleasure, you usually settled for head nods and moans of approval. You had little idea that your words could cause a reaction like that from him.

It’s startling when he flips the two of you, rolling under you and straightening you atop his lap. You let out a small laugh at his swiftness and lean down to press a kiss to his mouth. His cheeks are still a pretty shade of pink and he’s slightly sweatier than normal, stray hairs sticking to his forehead. “I fuckin love hearing you talk like that…wanna hear more, please.” The way his eyes rake over your body make you feel like the most desirable thing to ever exist.

You give him a sheepish smile and circle your hips. Your eyes shut tight, because he somehow feels ever better in this position. A long hum leaves you and your hands land on his chest. It’s good leverage to lift your hips off him and sink down again. “So, so good to me. I love my good boy.” The praise you give him is not one you’ve ever given, but feels the most natural, leaving your mouth with little thought. The loud half chuckle, half moan he lets out might be the hottest noise you’ve ever heard from him. He huffs and digs the tips of his fingers into your hips. “Yeah, I’m your good boy. Fuck…yes.” His hand cups the side of your face, coaxing you down to press a hot kiss to your mouth. Your fingers tentatively trace the base of his throat before wrapping around and gently squeezing. The need to hold on to something was strong.

Another moan from him floods into your mouth and you need to pull away, wanting to watch his face. Watch him make those noises. His eyes are glazed over as he looks up at you, pupils blown wide. His mouth hangs open slightly and his chest heaves. He strains his neck slightly. You squeeze your hand again, a little tighter this time and he eagerly nods up at you, squeezing your hips tight with a high pitched whine.

Oh.

You could definitely have some fun with this.

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YALL IM SO SORRY IVE BEEN GONE

BUT I had so much fun writing this 🫢 thank you once again anon!!!

More to come!

K. Bye bye.

[chubbunnyy]

i so badly need some sort of desperate sex with john, like… him being a whiny bitch 🥴

AGREED. HEAVY AGREE.

John had you laid on his cot, your hands tangled in his stringy dark hair as he buried his mouth into your pussy. His tongue swirled around your clit before diving into your hole. You tugged his hair roughly, pulling him deeper inside which makes him groan loudly. You swear you could see him trying to hump something.

He nudges his nose against your clit and tightens the grip he has on your thighs. “Fuck, darling… taste so good…” He groans and picks up the pace. Your legs began to shake and you buck your hips upward. “God damn it, John.” You moan. You start to feel yourself getting close, a warmth pooling in your belly. “I’m close.”

You feel him smile against your pussy before he pulls away. “Yeah? Good.” He stands up, unbuttons his pants and pulls his cock out. He was hard. Like really hard. He strokes his cock a few times as he stares down at your naked body. God you were attractive. Every time he saw you like this he couldn’t help but get aroused.

“God… your body, darling.” He grabs your ankles and pulls you down so your ass is at the edge of the bed. He grabs your breast rather roughly which makes you moan. He chuckles and releases it. God. That stupid smile. It gave you butterflies every time.

“I’ve been needing you all day, seein’ you pickpocket those fools in Valentine today… God.” He mumbles as he presses soft kisses to your neck.

“Then fuck me already, Marston” You roll your eyes with a smile. John was always so incredibly charming without even trying to be.

He grins and trails his hand down your bare chest. His fingers run up your breast before rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. He leans closer and moves his kisses down your chest as well. He takes your other nipple in his mouth and gently bites down. You whine, his mouth was so warm.

“John please… you’re being too slow.” You grumble. He pulls his lips away with a pop and grins. “Alright alright… relax, woman.”

He lines himself up with your hole, rubbing his cock head up and down slowly. With a deep breath John slowly pushes himself inside of you. John watches your face with a teasing smirk as you focus on adjusting to his size. “Aren’t you cute.”

You groan in embarrassment, he was incredibly annoying during sex too. Charming, but annoying.

He suddenly begins to rock his hips back and forth despite not bottoming out like he usually does. You glance up at his face and see how red his cheeks have become. He moves his hands to your waist and presses his fingers into the fat of your stomach. He lets out a low groan, nearly sounding like a growl as he picks up the pace.

You whimper softly and dig your nails into the blankets below the two of you. “J-Jesus John…” You squirm which makes him whimper.

You feel your belly flutter at the noise. He really was desperate, his eyes watering. “F-Fuck… you’re fucking clinging to me.” He picks up the pace a little. Soft breathy whines escape his lips as he tightens his hold on your waist. His face is dusted a cute shade of pink.

John mumbles something under his breath before fully bottoming out. He lets out a loud moan, loud enough for camp to hear but he doesn’t care. He needs you. You move your hands from the sheets to his back, digging your nails into his skin. “F-Fuck… fuck!” You moan loudly. Your legs move on their own, wrapping themselves around his waist tightly, your heels digging into his lower back, pulling him closer.

He whimpers and whines, pounding into you. “Damn it, darling… fucking feel s’good.” He mutters before crashing his lips to yours. He’s rutting into you desperately, the closer he gets the louder he becomes. “N-Needed this… needed you. So beautiful… fuck!” He whimpers pathetically, like a desperate animal.

John moves his head down and buries it in the crook of your neck. “I’m gonna cum soon… gonna…” He mutters into your skin. You feel the knot in your stomach tighten. “M-Me too… I’m close, John.”

He gently bites down on your shoulder and snaps his hips forward harder than before. “Please let me… inside… you feel so good.” Without hesitation you nod and almost instantly you feel hot ropes of his cum fill you up. He lets out a guttural cry and digs his fingers into your skin with bruising force.

After a few seconds your hand finds his wrist. You guide his hand towards your clit wordlessly. He begins to rub tight circles, panting heavily. “Y-You’re so good… so good to me… thank you.”

WAAAGGHHHHH I FINALLY WROTE SMTHN KINDA BIG!!! YIPPEEE!!!!

[svkahug]

once more to see you

[chapter three; ao3 link]

tags: slow burn, injury, forced proximity, quarry!reader, hurt/comfort

summary: On the run with the Empire on your heels, a bounty hunter seems to be your only option and your best bet to getting back home.

a/n: heard someone say tumblr has no fluff well i shall provide

---

Space is so… quiet . So empty. Sometimes there’s not another breathing creature for miles. Then you hit a planet. You’ve tallied all the planets you’ve been on recently as the Mandalorian goes on the search, relentless. Yavin, Geonosis, Lothal. Desolate and lifeless planets. But you never see them. The Mandalorian isn’t exactly a tour guide but he does talk to you more often as you strap yourself onto the co-pilot seat beside him. Him and the kid are gone for days at a time, no longer than a week. 

You eat, you sleep, you dream. You’ve snooped around every nook and cranny of the Razor Crest. It’s not as if he’s going to pop out of nowhere and chastise you. You can probably traverse this ship from memory alone. 

You find what you assume is his bed. But you don’t sleep in it. Not even on the days where he’s gone. It’s just as small and cramped as the ship and you simply can’t believe anyone even uses that thing. 

The worry that he might have perished out there crosses your mind. But you couldn’t let it get to you. He uses the ship's emergency comms to check in at night. Sometimes he doesn’t.  

You shuffle through the supplies, you use the fresher, you stare outside the windows of the cockpit then you sleep on the floor. Until on the nights that you don’t. You think it started when they left for Lothal. They were gone for four days and you barely slept a wink.

It was the nightmares, you think. Twisted and vile things that were a manifestation of your fears. 

You don’t like to think about it. When your ship crashed on Jakku. You lost people. Guardsmen that've been with you since childhood. People died violent deaths to protect you. 

The memories come in flashes, unwanted and painful. They chased you through that rocky and desolate planet. The Empire rained hell. You ought to be flattered seeing as how they would go through all this trouble for you. If not for the night terrors you had of being back in that rubble, of seeing people drop dead like flies, and smelling the stench of gasoline from their flamethrowers. 

You wake up, heaving and choking back sobs, the heat of the flame feeling too real and too close. On the good nights, you’re able to talk to the Mandalorian through the emergency comm on the console of the ship. 

You’re mulling around the cockpit, memorizing the console controls, wondering what each one does when a soft crackle gets your attention. You’re so used to the quiet that the soft sound causes you to perk up immediately. 

“Mando?”

“— Hello ?”

“Took you long enough.” 

“ How’s the ship?”

You look at the blinking communicator as if it’s done you some personal offense. “...I’m fine, thank you very much. Ship’s intact, at least. Old thing.”

“... And you?”

“Are you asking if I’m still intact? Because the answer is no. I’ve lost my mind. I think I can hear colors.”

“ Yeah, isolation will do that to you .”

“What about you? Any sign of her?”

“... No. I'm in a village. No one’s seen anyone matching her description. Fob’s no help either. ” 

“Oh.” It’s nearly been two weeks. Four planets and more parsecs than you can count. “A village?”

“ Yes. Almost a day’s trek from the ship, so I’ll be back there by tomorrow. ”

You hesitate. “Can you stay? Just for a bit?”

“ Have you been sleeping? ”

“Not really.” 

“...I can keep the line open for a bit. Try to rest. ”

—

Two weeks later.

Batuu was green. That was the first thing you noticed. As the ship geared closer to the surface you see that those are actually trees, densely packed together to form a jungle. 

The ramp lowers and you can’t help it, you stand on the mouth of the ship, admiring the life of the planet. They’re gigantic, with bark twice the usual size and vines hanging from their branches, unlike what you had back at home.

The Mandalorian falls into step beside you and you can already sense what he’s about to say so you beat him to it.

“I’m just going to look.” The crest is parked in a clearing in the middle of the forest, flattening the long grass. It smells like damp soil and you can hear birds cawing in the distance. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you as you slowly walk down the ramp, grateful for the fresh air. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s ancient.” He counters, his boots crunching on the ground as he flanks you. “These trees have been here for a thousand years. They’re sacred.”

You turn to him. “Don’t you think I should—”

“ No .” He says firmly. 

“She’s trained. Been in military command for as long as I can remember. She can outsmart you and she can fight….She wouldn’t run if she saw me.”

“Believe me, I can handle it. If she’s even here. I’m not risking you for an intel that could be weeks old.” He says, wading through a field of long grass, the little kid hovering nearby. 

“You’re no use to me dead.”

You make a face, smiling sarcastically. “ Charmed .”

“You’re welcome.” He deadpans. “Now get back on the ship.” 

—

There’s a storm outside when the Mandalorian comes back two days later.  You’ve fallen asleep to the sound of the smattering of rain on the roof of the ship when there’s a loud clang outside and you shoot up almost immediately.  

Suddenly, the ramp creaks awake as it opens, letting the water in. The sound of the rain is deafening now and you’re barely up on your feet before the Mandalorian sprints inside the vessel, the child’s pram zooming shortly behind him. He makes his way up into the cockpit immediately, firing up the engine before you can even hear the ramp shut below. Another crash comes from outside, and what sounded like an animal growling and clawing on the ground. Panic rises inside you as you stumble into the cockpit. 

“ What is that —?”

“Strap in now . We’re leaving.”

You do as you're told. “Did you find her?”

“No.” The ship lifts off the ground, and there’s something clanging on the side of the ship now. 

“ Who is that? ” They found us, you think. They fucking found us. 

“Bandits.”

“Wh– Seriously ?“

You’re in hyperspace when you finally notice it. You couldn’t help the gasp that escapes you, “ Holyfuckingshit , Mando—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He says, voice a little more ragged than usual, as if he didn’t have a knife sticking out of his fucking back.

You shoot up from your seat. “Shit , what— what do we do ? Holy —fuck .” It all comes out in a tumble. He’s facing you now but you can still see the knife sticking out of him. It’s really fucking huge. Especially because it’s halfway stuck inside him.

“Wait, wait here.” You’re practically flying through the ship when you come back with the kit, ripping it open on the floor of the cockpit and rummaging through its contents. “Here, what do you need?”

“The cauterizer.” His voice sounds thinner, even through the modulator, and it only adds a layer of panic to your already worsening state. “Look for the cauterizer— That— Yeah that one. Good.” You hand it to him. “You’re doing good. Now, you’re going to take it out—”

“What? No way .” You step back.

“Listen–”

“I don’t know how to — ”

“Hey, hey, breathe .” He grasps both your hands in his. His gloves are damp, and you see the droplets of water on his armor, his chrome visor staring up at you. “Calm down. It’s going to be alright. As long as I don’t bleed out, it’s fine.” 

“You’re kidding me right? How is that fine ?”

“Trust me, I’ve had worse.”

Trust him? That’s literally something the two of you couldn’t get right for nearly a month now. Now he’s basically putting his life in your hands and asking you to— Fuck . “Fuck, fine. I—I’ll do it.”

“Okay, you’re going to take out the dagger. Then you’re going to cauterize the wound with this.” He flicks some sort of switch and it fucking zaps . He places it in your hands. “Are you ready? You’re going to have to be quick, alright?”

He makes quick work of his chestplate, the armor clanging on the ground just as you come back with the scissors, ripping violently through his undershirt. You don’t think, you just do it and to your horror and surprise, the blade comes out easier than you expected. He lets out a long and loud groan, doubling over and gripping the console just as the bloody weapon joins the rest of his armor on the ground. You place a hand on his back to steady him, his skin warm.

“Maker, I’m sorry.” You say sincerely, gripping the cauterizer in one hand and steadying him with the other. He barks out a shout just as the laser makes contact with his skin. “ Stars , I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry… I’msosorry .” Your apologies turn into a whisper under your breath like a mantra, staying laser focused on the task at hand as he makes pained, broken noises underneath you. His fisted hand comes down onto the edge of the console.

It’s done eventually. The process felt longer than it was and there’s a moment when all you can hear is his heavy breathing mingling with the peaceful hum of hyperspace. It’s a juxtaposition of sounds. You couldn’t possibly imagine the pain he’s in and all he’s got to show for it now is a fresh jagged scar on the back of his shoulder.

You want to sit, but before you can even move an inch, he beats you to it. Suddenly, he’s tipping forward, a little too much and you recognize the fact that he’s going limp. You move just in time to catch him, letting your entire body support his weight as his helmet digs into your stomach while you try to get him back up into the chair without hurting his freshly closed wound. You hear garbling coming from underneath the armor. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hands on his pauldrons to support him, smearing red all over the metal. “It—It’s okay, I have you.” Literally. You don’t see any other option on how to move an injured man twice your size without hurting him right now and you’re too tired to think of a solution. So, you let him rest like that; his head on your stomach. 

You take a deep breath, your dominant hand cramping and your limbs feeling like you just strapped weights on them. You’re also getting colder and colder as the water he brought in earlier mingles with your sweat. Your hands are bloody. He makes another pained sound, a gloved hand coming up to grip your hip. 

“You ok?” You whisper. 

“ Mhm .”

“...Th—That wasn’t them, right?”

“No, it wasn’t.” Relief washes over you and you hardly feel his thumb brush a circle on your hip. 

You stay like that for longer than a moment. At some point, he’s placed his elbow on his knees to relieve some of the weight on you, still keeping his hand on your waist to steady you as you whizz through hyperspace. 

You let out a sigh, trying to focus on anything but how uncomfortable you are. 

It dawns on you you’ve never been this close before and you’ve never touched him, let alone seen his skin. It’s the first time you see him underneath all that metal. 

Suddenly, to you, there’s a lot of him. Weeks of looking at him and seeing nothing but metal and now the large expanse of his back is exposed to the cool air where you cut through his shirt. He’s a little pale from the injury and you also think it’s something to do with not being exposed to the sun that much. Your fingers grip his bare shoulder as you push him up just enough to make sure he doesn’t slip. His skin is damp, and he vaguely smells of rain, and something earthy. He’s a man underneath that armor, you almost forgot.

You watch the steady rise and fall of his torso as his lungs expand, muscles contracting as he tries to take in more air, and you notice the moles on his back. Tiny and completely unnoticeable marks scattered on the expanse of skin unless you stare really hard. You wonder if he knows this. Without thinking, you drag a clean hand, from his pauldron, to the small spot on his back, tracing it. Then to the next, and next, careful of his bad shoulder. It seemed like something you should do naturally and with no hesitation. You’re completely out of it, then, gently running your fingers along his back in a trancelike state, like your action and him feeling anything were two completely separate things. You hear him release a breath underneath you but you don’t feel the shudder that runs up his spine. You don’t see him shut his eyes underneath the helmet, don’t notice him lean back into your touch. Mando tries not to feel the throbbing pain on his shoulder, instead he focuses on the feel of your hand against his skin. He wonders if you were doing it on purpose. Or if you were in shock.

“Are you okay?” comes his question. He sounds more full now. Like he’s back to his usual self.

“Yeah,” you breathe, hand stopping in the middle of his back like you just traced a map and finally settled on a location.

You feel a squeeze on your hip, his head resurfacing from where it rested on your stomach and you’re suddenly faced with the chrome visor of his helmet.

“I’m fine. The kid’s fine. It’s over.” He says, sensing your distress. You nod silently. You can see him, and your reflection on his helmet but you can’t really… see it. Everything feels so cloudy and far away. You don’t want to look at the blood staining your hands, on his back. 

After dropping out of hyperspace, you lock yourself in the fresher and don’t come out half an hour later.

—

You assumed he was passed out from where he sat on the floor of the hull, resting, when you got out of the fresher until he said something. “We’re going back to Nevarro.”

“What for?” you whisper, meticulously laying out a fresh set of blankets on the floor. You were trying not to think much about anything right now. The baby is asleep, the hull is dark and silent, save for your whispers.

“I’m meeting with my employer, and we need supplies.” He’s changed out of his damp clothes now, and didn’t bother with putting the beskar back on yet.

You frown, listening to his attempt to get up. “You’re going to work for him?”

“Yes. I’m not made of credits.” You could argue that, technically, he was. But you feel like that would have been borderline offensive. He finds himself expecting you to say something back, but you’re quiet. He at least expected you to fight him on this, like you usually do. 

“Hey.” Comes the modulated tone of his voice, sounding hesitant. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” You chuck your damp clothes in the corner, not meeting his eyes—or rather, the chrome visor now staring in your direction.

“I think you’re in shock.” He takes hold of your elbow as you make your way across the other end of the hull. “Talk to me.”

You stop in your tracks, feeling oddly vulnerable in your state. “...You just scared me.” You state plainly and just when the words leave your mouth that’s when you’re able to pinpoint what it is you’ve been feeling all alone. Fear. An image flashed through your mind—limp bodies on the ground, eyes wide open but so empty and lifeless. The memories rears its ugly head at you tonight, resurfacing faster than you can help it. 

“ Maker —” You breathe out a puff of air, pressing the palm of your hand to your eyes until you can see stars. “I—I don’t want to do that again. Please don’t—don’t make me do that again. I—I don’t know why I’m—I mean, shit, you were the one with th—the knife in your back.” 

The Mandalorian’s hand drifts down from your elbow to grip your hand in a gloved hand, his filtered voice surprisingly really soft. “I think you’re just tired…. It’s alright.”

A wet sob fights its way out of you. Stars, it’s pathetic. It’s so fucking embarrassing . 

You wipe away your tears angrily with your free hand, a lump forming in your throat as you try to stifle a sob. You just stand there, frustratingly wiping away your tears as they come, sobbing quietly into the palm of your hands. It’s all really caught up to you now. How much the past few weeks—hell, months —really fucked you up. He was right. You were tired. You wanted to go home. You wanted to grieve . 

You suspect he might just leave you there, tell you to at least get some rest before going back up the cockpit to maneuver the ship to Nevarro but he doesn’t. 

The hand that’s holding yours starts to tug you closer, hesitantly and you go willingly, still wiping tears until you’re close enough to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his good shoulder, letting him soak up your fresh tears. He’s warm without the beskar, and you practically melt into him.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” You shook your head against the soft cloth of his black undershirt running down to cover his arms, now wrapping securely around you, albeit awkwardly like he really didn’t know what to do and was simply improvising. “...It’s okay.” He runs his hand across your back soothingly and you hum softly against his shoulder.

A part of you is surprised at the gentleness in which he handles you, something you only ever see him reserve for the kid, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away. While he never showed any ill intentions towards you, you could never really read him. This was a job. You were a job to him. And he never failed to treat you as such. The things he did, you always assumed, was to benefit him and the kid. Your protection was just a byproduct.  You had no qualms about it, but months on the run, weeks alone, and the uncertainty of it all was getting to you, you admit and you just needed… you needed someone that wasn’t hunting you down or trying to kill you. 

You stay like that until your sobs subside and you’re taking calming breaths against him, his hand lingering . It was nice. This was nice. You turn your face into the crook of his neck, where there’s a spot where a patch of skin is showing. You find yourself wondering what he looked like all of a sudden

Suddenly, a soft cry pierces the silence of the ship and you’re suddenly reminded about where you were.

Slowly, you part. “I’ll get him,” you say with a nod. 

That night, you fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.