#yes i have a lil crush on blade. what about it

[blueflamepoisoning]

HAIII ENGINE im curious abt 3, 15, and 16 ... BE FREE BE THE YAPPER

HI KAZ WHATS UP!!!! ALSO . BROTHER YOUVE UNLEASED HELL. BE PREPARED. 3. how do the other characters generally feel about your self insert? lord. i think it'd depend on who you're asking! for HSR, they have a good relationship with the astral express :]] and march considers them one of her besties since they both like taking pictures! she just wishes they'd take off their mask tho. sorry march that's not happenin any time soon as for the stellaron hunters, i think kafka would like to tease them. blade's noticeably softer around them, and silver wolf probably wouldn't give much of a shit. which is fine for FEH... eough. god. all the ikes are fond of summoner!khuê, the younger ones having a more familial relationship and the older ones having a more romantic tone to their feelings toward summoner!khuê :] mist considers them family, and they've got a really good friendship with tibarn, ranulf and zelgius! 15. how does your self insert play a role in the plot of the story? do they help directly defeat the villain, support the heroes, etc.? fantastic question! i think eugene plays more of a supportive role for the astral express until the penacony questline, considering that their aeon is involved here. i'm thinking there'd be a scene with them facing against sunday, and by god they hate his ass so bad. perhaps while dan heng, acheron, black swan and boothill are on the express, eugene's on the front lines with the rest of them... hehe for FEH, well. khuê's the summoner. so they're PRETTY important ONRDSJKGHLJ 16. freebie! name a fact about your self insert you want everyone to know. OOOH this is a good one. under eugene's mask, they have a scar running across their nose and they're self-conscious about it. as for khuê, they wear a red butterfly pin on the back of their head and it holds some of their hair back

[b1rds3ye]

hi!! this is my first time doing a request so idk if I'm doing this right haha but uh, I was wondering if you could do like. yknow the masked one you made for the 141 (I can't remember the name rn💔)? I thought of like, a sequel idea. like, what if during combat an enemy manages to take reader's mask, and so reader panics and like, rips the enemies throat out with their teeth (or if that's too violent, just goes basically rabid on them lmao) and how they would react?? if this is too violent or specific dw you don't have to!! anyways, I love your content it's totally awesome ur writing is amazing! have a good day!!

YES I LOVE THE BADASSERY AND THE UNHINGEDNESS!! If I'm your first request I'm so flattered anon pls do feel free to drop by again <333 Also just going to do general rabidness because ngl the throat thing sounds like an infection speedrun and we want our masked reader to stay nice and healthy <333

Word Count: 1.2 (it got a little long WHOOPS)

Warning: Canon typical violence, reader does get a lil sadistic and unhinged <333

Beyond Task Force 141 and Laswell, many - if not all - allied soldiers wondered about what lay under your mask. Obscuring even the eyes, your visage was more unreadable than Ghost's. Larger than life, a soldier among men.

There was a running joke that there was just nothing under your mask, perhaps an eldritch horror of sorts. You let the new recruits entertain the thought, it kept morale up as they conjured more myths of you. They said that no one has seen you without your mask. They were partially right.

It simply was that no one lived to tell the tale.

You were never one for close combat, but fighting terrorists was never smooth sailing. The chaos of battle had all of the 141 separated against the tight streets of Las Almas. How uncanny that you could not see your allies but hear their gunfire. Running out of ammo, you couldn't lament at your misfortune as a shoulder pummeling into your chest, sending you to the ground and the air out of your lungs. Head bashing against the floor you groaned as you furiously clawed up to whatever heavy weight was crushing your body. You were starting to make up the figure of a man hovering over you through the blurry haze of a concussion that filled your sight. The distant static of Price's voice through the radio, probably asking where the hell were you but you had more pressing issues at hand.

Through your struggle and flailing limbs you managed to wring the enemy's pistol off of them with a painful twist of their wrist. And they retaliated tenfold, a large sweaty hand reaching down and pressing your head back against the ground. Your adrenaline makes you writhe further, he was going to suffocate you, or worse, poison you with how fucking awful his hand smelt as the stink of burning gunpowder replaced any of your oxygen. But no, he committed a far worse crime.

A singular pull and the grating tear of fabric as your mask is pulled off of your face.

A heavy moment where your enemy looks down at you and his gaze is not like before. It's clear, it's deep. It is not looking at your facade but at you and you are no longer a soldier. You are merely a human, so fragile, so weak. One that is on the verge of death in a foreign land surrounded by bodies of fallen comrades and enemies alike. One whose mythos is all but lost at the victorious and leering smirk of an enemy as they take in your face.

That simply won't do.

Pulling your knee up to create space between you and the man, you pull out your tactical knife from your waist and drive it into his torso. His smile falls only to land at settle on yours below him, just like his blood that trickles as forbidden crimson down your hands and seeps into your uniform. It's disgustingly warm. He grows heavier as he loses all control over his body and you heave to throw his figure off to the side. You stab him once again for good measure. And then again. And again. Quick, short jabs down with a sharpened blade that cuts through uniform, flesh and bone alike. You did not count how many times you drove your blade down, numbers were too complex when your mind was running faster than any comprehensible speed. There was only one goal. To make sure no one knows what happened.

A harsh grip on the shoulder yanks you back up and you swipe with your armed limb to cut your new assailant's neck but they were onto you. Catching your arm, they pull it up as they hold onto your shoulder once again with a tightening grip that digs into your uniform. But they do nothing more, no matter how much you thrash and kick.

"Wake up, Sergeant," your opponent seethes and that voice makes you still, a buoy that floats across through your rage. Deep and grounding and your captain's.

You nearly stumble back but Price catches you before you crumple to the ground in exhaustion. The adrenaline was escaping your body leaving you with barely the energy to stay upright. Your head lolls back for a second before you bring it to the side to look at your direct superior, the remnants of a concussion making your vision blurry.

"You broken?" he asks.

"Negative, sir,” you respond immediately but he looks a little doubtful, a singular eyebrow raised as he inspects you. Not your body, but your face. The dilated pupils and the taut muscles told more than any wound.

"Can't say the same about your wee friend over there," Soap whistles as he tilts his head to behind you. “Christ, you did a number on him.”

You dare turn to look over your shoulder but Ghost already situated himself in front of the body. But between his feet you could already make out the indistinguishable mass of tattered fabric and discoloured flesh. Fresh blood filled the rivets between the cobblestones, the remnants of the body inching its way closer to you-

"Was it the mask?" Simon brings your attention back to him. You nod dumbly. He only dips his head in what you can only describe as understanding as he folds his arms, fortifying his stance in front of the mess you made. You weren’t going to see your handiwork, he was too kind to ever let you.

John drops his hands down to his sides as Gaz approaches you with your mask.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," Kyle offers you a sympathetic smile.

"Learnt that the first day I saw 'em on duty," Johnny retorts and you instinctively smile as you take your mask from Kyle. The hardened plaster of your mask had cracked, the fabric that hugged your neck had become torn but it'll do for the remainder of the mission. Slipping the mask back on, Simon offers a nod of approval while Johnny tugged at the fabric for a few finishing touches.

Ultimately the mission was successful. The task force returns to base and although none of the boys mentioned the carnage you left, there are still whispers of it on base. You had hurried to debrief and get your mask fixed but it seemed some privates caught sight of you and that was enough to spark rumours. Your mask had gotten so fractured that a shard was left back in the streets of Las Almas and revealed one of your eyes to the rest of the world. Such a small organ but so vivid. The privates saw, and more was added to the myth that was you. There was now no question about what was under the mask. No lovecraftian horror or empty space, no monster beyond comprehension. No, what was under your mask was terrifyingly human.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[faetima]

Hi!! Can I please request a hanahaki fic with blade? I'm not sure if you've written for him though!

Also, please take some breaks! You've written a lot of fics lately, you might get overworked 🤍

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. .

. .hanahaki just had to put you through fucking hell, didn't it?

// tws ; lil bit of cursing, blood ; gn reader ; modern au, hanahaki au

a/n: OH MY GOD ANON YOURE LITERALLY THE SWEETEST ILYSM OMOGMOGO

i will be writing a part two to this.. soon enough :3

you couldn't do anything about this stupid disease anyways, so what was the point of even trying?

you heaved up clusters and clusters and clusters of ugly bright red petals, their sickly sweet scent making its way up to your nose. you felt so fucking nauseous and dizzy. the fragrant miasma of flowers overwhelmed you. you wanted to vomit or cry or die or anything but cough up these dumb stupid flowers.

the flowers flopped onto your floor--your newly polished floor-- ungracefully, covered in slick mucus and freshly coated in splatters of blood. they smeared the previously pristine tiling with blood, the iron stench of it mixing with the flowers and filling up the entire room. you just wanted the disease to kill you already. if it was going to either way, why make you suffer?

after what felt like hours and hours and hours and hours of coughing and heaving and choking, the flowers finally stopped fucking coming. you took shaky shallow breathes, trying to ground yourself.

your palms stung, and you looked down to realize you had been digging your nails into the palms of your hand almost strong enough to draw blood.

your gaze trailed up to the stupid fucking flowers.

upon closer inspection, you realized they were spider lilies. red ones.

his favorite flowers.

too bad you hated them.

--

his eyes were the same exact color of the flowers you had just coughed up.

blade sat two seats in front of you and one to the right, and whenever you saw him you couldn't help but wonder why you had fallen for him.

he was always so indifferent and cold. sure there might've been something warmer under his icy exterior, but you weren't the type of person to go dig through someone's cold attitude just to find out what they were actually like.

but some days you wished you knew what was under that cold front of his.

--

you were getting worse.

you'd barley come out of your room to stretch your legs or go to the bathroom or even eat.

the spider lilies were killing you from the inside out. of course you had to have hanahaki for someone who probably hated you, if he even knew you existed, that is.

and, on top of that, out of all flowers, the ones you coughed up had to be toxic.

if just hacking up the flowers was bad, the nausea they caused because of being toxic was worse. you couldn't even go five minutes without feeling abdominal pain and nausea.

ugh.

--

blade swallowed hard.

why did he feel like this? why did his heart beat so fast when this random ass person passed by?

he gritted his teeth.

"kafka," he grumbled, barley glancing in her direction.

kafka glanced up from her book, setting it down elegantly and tucking a strand of mauve hair behind her ear, adjusting the tinted glasses sitting atop her head in the process.

"yes, bladie?" she grinned a little, and blade could only groan in irritation.

"who's that?" he muttered, gesturing towards the person he had been thinking about earlier.

"why?" kafka mused. "you've never been interested in learning others' names before now. what's changed?"

"nothing," he muttered gruffly, crossing his arms across his chest. his ears felt hot and his heart was beating faster and he was getting butterflies and he didn't know why.

kafka grinned, eyes glinting with amusement.

"ooh, i think someone has a crush."

"no."

"okay, let's go talk to them then bladie."

"no!"

"why not? is it cause you like them?"

"..fine. let's go talk to them."

--

your head fell forward a little. another sleepless night of coughing up flowers didn't bring you any good.

suddenly, your eyes snapped open.

was that.. blade? walking towards you? with kafka?

no, it probably wasn't. you were probably just sleep deprived and hallucinating or something.

but then you smelt the strong and unmistakable scent of anise, too real to be your imagination.

[sleepyhead0720]

cna you write Sanji x reader, where Sanji is jealous. So reader wanna buy something for Sanji a birthday and aks zoro to help her with blade knowledge ( she wanna buy him a good kitchen knife) , bur he aussumes she has a crush ?

Sure! Ty for requesting<33

Masterlist

I love you, not him

You have had a crush on a certain love cook for a while. Long enough for Zoro to notice the obvious lovesick looks you sent to him,

“Oi, out of everyone why that swirly brows?

“H-huh??”

When zoro approached you about it,

You finally caved in and asked for his help.

“His birthday is coming up, could you help me?”

“Why me??”

“Because you know the most about blades and since I want to get Sanji some new cooking materials I need your help! Besides I don’t wanna get teased by nami or Robin”

He agreed once you promised him to buy him a lil something for his birthday too

So once the ship docked the two of you went to explore the island together in search of cooking materials

On your way off the ship though, you felt like you were being watched by someone.

|———————————————————————|

“Zoro! What about this one??”

You waved the sharp object around

“No, it’s too long, and stop waving it around!”

He grabbed your hand to stop you before grabbing the knife and putting it back

You sighed

“We’ve been to five shops and we haven’t gotten a single knife for his birthday!”

“We’ll find one eventually if ya stop complaining!”

You glared at him

“Oi y/n..”

“Yea? Did you find one??”

“No, but that love cook has been following us for the past 30 minutes”

He whispered

“What?? SAN-mph!”

He covered your mouth

“SHH! He’ll hear us!”

You slapped his hand away

“Since when??”

“Since we excited the ship”

“And you didn’t say anything??”

He shrugged

“But I think I have a theory,”

“And what’s that?”

He gestured for you to get closer as he leaned down to whisper something to you

“I think that love cook is a little jealous”

You blushed at the thought

‘Jealous? No way! Does he even like me back??’

You turned to face Zoro with blush still on your face which got even worse once you saw movement in a certain bush

“W-why do you think that??”

“Oh Cmon I know you aren’t that stupid to not notice the extra attention he gives you, especially the glares he gave me once we left together toward the first shop”

“H-he did??”

He sighed

“Yes”

You covered your mouth in attempt to hide your blush

“Well moving on, I think I saw a pretty good knife in that shop right there,”

He pointed at a nearby shop

You calmed down you blush as you nodded, heading to the shop

/——————————————————————-\

As you carefully placed the knife in a safe box you couldn’t help but think about what Zoro told you,

‘Extra attention? To me??’

You always thought he didn’t really like you since he was a little more quiet around you, that’s why you wanted his present to be special! And because your slight crush on the cook

When you and Zoro got back from the shopping, you payed a little more attention on Sanji’a behavior, and that’s when you realized that what Zoro said, was true

‘Maybe he really does like me’

You tried not to think about it much since you didn’t want to get your hopes up just in case

Zoro really was helpful the whole day so you decided to give him a little something since he was so much help

You looked yourself on the mirror and eventually got lost in your own thoughts

“Y/n-swan? Are you in here?”

Sanji’s voice interrupted your thoughts

“Yea m here! I’ll come down in a sec!”

You said not looking back as you fixed your makeup/hair

“Y/n-swan! You look lovely as always!”

He said with little hearts in his eyes

“Ah thanks Sanji! Oh! And happy birthday to you birthday boy”

He smiled back warmly

“Ah your too kind y/n-san!”

You giggled

“Oh! I totally forgot! Here”

You grabbed the safe box and gently gave it to him

“I wanted to give you this a little early because I just couldn’t wait!”

“Y/n-san! You shouldn’t have!”

You smiled back at him

“I had to! You deserve it after all!”

He took the box and softly opened it to reveal a sharp yet shiny knife inside along with a little note that read, ‘Happy birthday lover boy’

He blushed softly

“W-when did you get this?”

“Oh I got it yesterday when I got off the island!”

“But you were with Zoro the whole time!”

You tilted your head

“Yea… to get you this, Zoro is an expert on everything sharp yknow?”

You looked at him curiously

“Wait, how’d you know I was with him the whole time?”

He looked down as if he was ashamed

“I-erm…may have thought that you had a crush on that moss head and gotten a little jealous…. Just a little though!”

Your eye’s widened

He stayed quiet blush growing in his cheeks

“I-l…I sorta have got feelings for you y/n-san,”

He kept looking down as if waiting to get rejected

You blushed hard

“I…you do?”

He nodded,still not looking at you

You softly smiled

“M glad! Because I do too!”

He looked at you shocked

“Really?”

“Really”

He kept looking at you, as if expecting something, anything!

“A-and you aren’t kidding?”

“Nope!”

You smiled and carefully approached him before wrapping your arms around him

He hesitantly returned the gesture, both of you still blushing hard

“I love you, not him”

|———————————————————————|

Sorry this is so long-

[barblaz-arts]

Hey! Since you mentioned "Soul Eater" before, can I ask what you think about it? From the anime, from the manga (if you read it), the powers, the story in general, the ships, the chops, the humor, etc.

The anime was stunning! I love that it managed to translate the gothic but campy vibe the manga had. The soundtrack was insane too. I used to be so obsessed with Paper Moon and the second ED. Even the character OSTs like Kidd's theme and BlackStar's theme were really good, even if the lyrics didn't make a lot of sense.

The character designs and powers/fighting style for each character was soooo cool btw. The aesthetic for this whole show was just so good. Like. If Tim Burton and Doctor Seuss went and collaborated on an anime idk what I'm saying.

And the animation for the fight scenes were just mesmerizing. Bones(the animation studio) are just real damn good at what they do.

Seeing Maka fight with that giant scythe changed my life. At the time shounen rather than shoujo/slice of life anime were my thing. It was my first time seeing a female main protag for a shounen anime, that was probably one of the reasons I was as obsessed with the show as I was. I saw myself in maka for many reasons, i loved her a lot.

I had my gripes with the anime. Like. The ending was a lil weird with how they defeated Asura, but I did love that it had Maka also be a weapon. Also the fact that Crona was alive and well by the end is a nice bonus.

I vividly remember being obsessed with this scene in particular. I had such a huge crush on them lmao

Also not to like out my cringey 12 yo self, but I used to ship Crona/Kidd. Looking back it's so funny.

Soul/Maka is still one of my favorites anime ships ever tho. Ships that start off being besties that gradually turn romantic are just always gonna be my favorite i guess

Also just... Soul's dedication to always keep Maka safe was so dang sweet??? He'd catch a sword on the chest for her. He'd break her fall for her. He'd really do anything for her. Like damn...

As for the manga, yes I did read it! I think it ended when I was in high school? I followed the manga as it updated along with other mangas like Pandora Hearts and Reborn etc. Soul Eater was the only shounen I finished reading (Unless PH counts as shounen. I don't think it does...).

The direction it went with was so painful. Crona leaving Maka and going back to Medusa was my NaruSaku fallout istg. It sucks that things didn't end happily for Crona in the manga, but I still enjoyed the journey it put me through. As dark as it was, the chapter where Crona finally kills Medusa was kinda cathartic.

And although the manga didn't have weapon!Maka, i like the upgrade when she honed the abilities of her grigori soul. Maka riding scythe!Soul like Cardcaptor Sakura with her magic staff was so cool. And the way she had Soul's blade turn into piano keys and turned the black blood into a dress was kinda badass. I wish we get to see these in reboot FMA brotherhood style someday

The humor was great. My brothers and I still quote/reference a lot of the funny stuff from it. I just wish it wasn't one of those animes that can get so pervy to the point it's uncomfortable....

Anyways, loved it a lot. Sorry I probably could have talked about Kidd and BlackStar too and I love them, but this reply would be a lot longer than i have the energy to do lol. They're popular anyways. This show had one of the best female anime characters in Maka and it will probably always have a special place in my heart.

And the chops? Great as always

[kay-elle-cee]

Happy birthday fellow swiftie!

Hope you got lots of presents at last nights show!

There so many prompts I wanted to send but let’s go with 50. Rudely barging in on a White vail occasion. (Possibly petunias wedding) or whatever comes to mind!!!

Have a great birthday week!

Hi there, and thank you so much for the birthday wishes! I definitely have not been able to stop talking about the Argentina shows 😅

I loved this prompt! Hope you enjoy some non-angsty Order!Jily (yes it's possible, don't look at me like that!). You can read here on ao3 or below the cut!

Taylor Swift Prompts Follower Milestone Celebration

A high giggle rips out of her throat as James’ lips tease the spot beneath her ear. She clamps a hand over her mouth, widening her eyes in mortification as a few gazes turn their way.

She doesn’t push him off of her, though.

They’re in the back of the stuffy, overcrowded ballroom of Stoneborne Manor as a wizened wizard performs a few incantations at the front altar. The bride and groom seem unaware of the interlopers’ presence, stoically staring at the officiant with stiff shoulders, draped in the finest traditional robes their centuries-long-lineage can buy.

Lily struggles to stay attuned to the crowd around them as James’ hands move up her sides, a breathy moan drawing a few more eyes their way. James nudges a strand of blonde hair back from her ear with his nose, lips brushing the dangling pearl that hangs from her lobe.

“How’re we doing, Lil?”

Her eyes flutter open to scan the room, noticing a few of their spectators have nudged the acquaintances next to them. A lecherous mixture of intrigue and disgust stares back at them, but those at the front of the hall are oblivious.

“More,” she breathes, running a hand through the dull brown hair that’s taken the spot of her favorite inky curls. “Let’s give them a show, P–”

His mouth crushes into hers before she can blow their cover, a deep groan reverberating against her lips as he pushes her back against an ornate column and slots his thigh between her legs. The sudden sensation pulls a high, keening sound from her throat, and she can feel James’ smile against her lips.

“What in the—”

“Merlin and Morgana—”

“Excuse me.”

Lily opens her eyes to find James’—a strange, icy blue—already locked with hers, the triumphant spark within them undoubtedly James. He gives her lips a final peck before spinning around and Lily demurely ducks behind his shoulders, attempting to play the mortified lover card as the whole chamber stares at them with rapt attention.

A short, irate wizard is standing before them, face red with indignation while his wife—a tall, wispy woman—looks down her nose at them with disgust.

“Our deepest apologies,” James speaks, lowering his head in contrition. “It’s a lovely ceremony. Very…inspiring.”

Lily has to press her lips to his shoulder blade to keep her laugh from sliding out. The fucking cheek. 

The woman’s voice is high-pitched, though she strains to keep it to a whisper. “You two need to vacate the premises immediately.”

“We have an invitation—”

“That hardly matters,” the man scoffs, and Lily’s eyes find the two new figures slipping their way past the altar, unseen. A relieved breath fans out against the back of James’ dress robes and she pokes her head out from behind him to address the angry couple. 

“We’re so sorry,” she says, fingers twining with James’ and tugging his hand. “Come on, dear, we’ve done enough here.”

“I should say…” the short witch murmurs with disgust as James follows Lily through the door of the ballroom. They walk in silence for several seconds that stretch between them, palms clasped tightly together.

His voice comes as a whisper. “They’re in place?”

She nods, looking up at him. Though cloaked in Transfigurable disguises, she can read his expression clear as day—the worry etched into strange features, the want that still sparkles in foreign eyes—and she’s confident he can see the same in her.

He exhales a shaky breath, thumb softly stroking along her skin as he pulls her body a little closer to his. “When this bloody thing is over, Lily—”

“I know,” she whispers, rising up on her toes and placing a soft kiss to his cheek, not trusting herself to do anything more.

[imalwaysaslutfordrag]

patient love (camgeria)

AN: Everyone having fun this beautiful Wednesday night? Yeah? Well, here’s some Camgeria angst that I couldn’t turn into a full fic, so it’s just a depressing lil drabble. Enjoy! (Also on AO3 if you like that formatting better.)

Summary: "If you love me, you don’t love me in a way I understand." - Crush by Richard Siken

Angeria stared blankly at the ceiling fan above her, counting each rotation of the blades.

Counting each breath from the warm body beside her.

Counting the number of times she bit back the words.

I love you.

Camden wouldn’t say it back. 

Not because she didn’t feel the same, but because if she said it aloud it would be real. And if it was real and if she meant it, she could never take it back. And Camden, Camden was practical. Logical. Emotional, sure, but those emotions were the result of hours and sometimes days of analysis. She felt everything through the lens of logic and reason. Her emotions, the expressed ones, weren't raw. They were filtered through trauma and experience and the fear that any move would be the wrong one.

Angeria didn’t blame her for that. She didn’t blame Camden for the way she loved. Even if it was frustrating at times… 

most of the time

all of the time

So Angeria was frustrated. So what? Didn’t she deserve to be loved in a way that she could understand? In a way that she could feel and touch and lean on?

But that wasn’t the crux of the issue. Angeria knew. 

She knew. 

And most days, she could go about her life like everything was fine.

It wasn’t that their relationship wasn't good. It was healthy, all things considered. It was solid. Stable. Comfortable. They were their own people. They made time for one another and frequently engaged in intimacy.

And yes, they’d been together for a year, and yes, they’d talked about living together and the big nebulous future where Camden opened her own dance studio and Angeria… would figure it out. 

And that was most days.

But some days…

Some days, Angeria was angry. 

Look what you’ve done. She longed to say. Look what you’ve turned me into.

Because loving someone more than they love you takes its toll after a while.

And so Angeria would be angry. At herself for being too much. At Camden for making her like that.

But she would never tell Camden that.

Because she would try to put it into words. She would try. But she would end up saying something like, I need you to tell me it’s okay to love you this much, because sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe.

And that wouldn’t do.

Because Camden would smile. It would be warm and comforting, but it wouldn’t reach her eyes. And she would kiss Angeria and press their foreheads together. Her smile would falter when their eyes met, but only for a split second. And there would be pity. And regret. And anger. 

And Angeria would stare blankly at the ceiling fan above her, counting each rotation of the blades.

[keikakudori]

If Aizen wanted more unreadable acts by Ichimaru Gin, he needn't look any further than the way moved his head in a slow, eerily amused and hollow tilt to the side, as though a beast that just heard a new and somewhat interesting sound. Discerning it with the flick of a sharp ear, or a darting tongue tasting the air. Hm. Jealous, was he? Ah, that ego of Aizen's was showing once again. Gin would crush it. He knew how to.

❝ H'oh, is that whatcha think? Yer self-importance's showin', cap'n Aizen. Nobody wants ya as bad as y'think they do. ❞ Those fingers relented on that throat only to lower to fasten themselves better over the center, squeezing again. Depriving him of air whilst the tension thickened, seething -- oozing, a venomous bite alongside constricting coils. Contradictory, Gin's free hand not currently gripping Aizen's throat went to lovingly caress the man's cheek, a feather light touch and a trace of cheekbone and down towards his jawline. Maybe veering to stroke idly, on a whim, up past his temple to delve into the thick brown locks atop his head.

Contradicting that, Gin spoke.

❝ If I ever got bored 'nough and decided I wanted ya, I'd simply beckon ya 'n you'd throw yourself at me like th' needy lil bitch that you are. ❞

how sharp gin could be when he wished to, how vicious. it had ever drawn the attention of the older man and this was no different. his attention rested upon the sharp features, the depths of brown focused intently, perfectly studious, regarding him with the intensity that had yet to ever waver. yes, this was something new, something almost unique -- something that he did not see from gin very often. and how curious aizen could be, wondering just what such a mood from his partner could lead towards. so if he wanted to indulge -- then indulge he would. ❝ tell that to the fan club i had in the seireitei, ❞ he drawled idly, the sarcastic edge on the words saying what he thought of them. equally, he could have brought up momo but something stayed his tongue from that decision. perhaps it was the way gin was behaving. perhaps it was the sensation of sharpness and danger he was beholding from gin, the way a bared blade could catch a bead of light along the cutting edge and one knew full and well what they were beholding -- imminent danger. a threat. so he chose to not offer that target up. what nearly had him recoil, however, were the words which followed up, posture stiffening despite the grasp at his neck and shoulders growing rigid. were it not for the grasp in his hair, perhaps he would indeed have jerked back from gin for once. but those words had indeed cut at him and his hands moved, seeking to try and grasp at those slim wrists as if he would pull those hands away from throat and hair alike. that had been the bite he'd expected and that one, oh -- sharper than usual indeed. ❝ a needy little bitch-- ❞ he hissed, voice sharper than not. ❝ oh, i must have hit the mark indeed if you're going to try and throw words of that nature at me. are you actually worried i'd consider looking elsewhere, gin? ❞ one might argue that aizen was simply digging the hole deeper or putting his foot into his mouth, but the brunet was watching intently. he wanted to see -- ... what? more of this? ❝ because if i am what you say i am - then maybe i'd consider that. or are you going to find some way to make me see your point of view? or, better yet -- why don't you prove that you can back your words up about beckoning me-- ❞ a challenge, thrown out sharply.

[nihilara]

🚢 /hehe enemies to lovers with blade

do i ship our characters together?: yes | no | not yet but maybe soon

would i like to ship with you?: yes | maybe, i'm willing to try | no

type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term situationship | crushes | unrequited hate | fling | long distance | online relationship | just dating | new relationship | toxic for a while tbh | friends with benefits

tropes i'd enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers | exes to lovers | fake relationship / dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine ( kuro is sunshine compared to blade lbr ) | star-crossed lovers | surprise pregnancy | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship

would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between 

what now?: let's plot something | send me shippy memes | i'll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i'll write you a random starter

anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits:  so i am very plot dependent. i.e i need plot to figure out if chemistry works between muses. and i am always willing to try, and explore potentials of characters. kuro's past as an emanator of yaoshi is definitely a glaring issue honestly, and i really cannot see that being forgiven. but, there are bigger issues out there than an ex emanator who desperately wishes he could die. and there's something to be said about the script, and kuro's place in it blah blah.  ( wow they have so much in common )  also, there's the one sided hatred thing going.  kuro doesn't hate blade, he never has and he never will.  ect ect.  i'll be here forever tbh if i keep going so i will definitely be nosediving into your dms to chat further.

send me a lil boat and ill talk about a ship with our muses

[imaslutforremusandsirius]

Cat fight

My first request, I‘m so exited. Really hope you enjoy it babe <3 @maraudersangel

Warnings: 18+

Pairing: Marlene x Lily x You

---

The walk back from the Quidditch pitch was tense, Lily and you throwing anxious glances at each other. Marlene was pissed off. Gryffindor nearly won the game against Slytherin, but Slytherin scored last second and the game was finished. Needless to say, James and Sirius were fuming with anger and Remus tried his best to hold them back from hexing the other team.

„I can‘t fucking believe it. They clearly cheated, everybody saw! I can‘t believe this bullshit“, she cried out, slamming the door to your dorm room shut and throwing her stuff in the corner of the room. You flinched when you heard the door creak and threw Lily a concerned look. Marlene had never been so angry before.

„It‘s alright Marls, you did everything you could! Besides-”, Lily was cut off sharply by her friend.

„No! It‘s not fair Lily! Why must they always get away with lying? They never get in trouble and it just isn‘t right! Fucking snakes, I‘ll show them..“.

Marlene was sitting on her bed now, face resting on her hands as she kept working herself up over the lost game. Lily sat down next to her friend, resting her hand on her back, stroking in a soothing gesture.

„Marlene, it isn‘t worth it. C‘mon you‘ll beat them nex-“

„God Lily, you just don‘t get it! This was my only chance to show James that I deserve my position! He‘s going to throw me off the team!“ She pushed Lilys hand away, hands tugging frustratedly through her blond locks.

You were starting to get angry as well. You had friends on the Slytherin team and hearing Marlene talk about them like that irritated you. Turning your attention on Lily, who was giving you a warning look, you crossed your arms and gave Marlene an icy glare. „Just because Slytherin won doesn‘t mean they cheated! Stop discriminating them for their house, I have friends on their team and you know that. It‘s not their fault you sucked.“

Lily let out a frustrated groan, knowing that neither of you would back down from this.

„So that‘s how it is? You are siding with them? The sorting hat should have put you in Slytherin then, you‘d fit right in with the cheating snakes!“

„Merlin Marlene you are so fucking full of yourself! Just because you are a Gryffindor doesn‘t mean you are above them! Get. The. Fuck. Over. It! You are acting like a bloody coward!“

Marlene abruptly got up, shaking Lilys hands off and strode towards you in quick steps. You didn‘t back down as she shoved you into the wall behind you and kept staring into her furious eyes.

The next words she spoke were dangerously low, clearly trying to control herself from doing something she‘d regret. „Careful love, you don‘t want to go there...“

You kept looking at her, but your attitude was faltering. Thruth is, you fancied Marlene for quite some time now and seeing her so angry stirred something in you. She was so close you could count each of her lashes, see the different specks of color in her eyes. You took a deep breath, the smell of her shampoo and natural musk made you want to kiss her dizzy and apologize.

„You heard me, Marlene“, jabbing your finger into her chest you spoke loud enough for Lily to hear, „You are acting like a-”

Marlene kissed you. Hard and right on the lips. Her body pressed yours against the wall, her hands on your cheeks. She murmured against your lips, voice soft, but sure. „Kiss me back then, since you are soo brave..“

You let out a breath and kissed her, immediately parting your lips so she could lick into your mouth. Both of you were moaning now, the kiss was filthy and desperate, all your tension from minutes before turned into passion. You were kissing each other trying to prove that neither of you were cowards, you are Gryffindor after all.

Lily sat calmly, watching her best friends make out. Her voice was gentle as she spoke, a dirty glint in her green eyes, „So you‘re just gonna leave me out? How rude..“

Breaking the kiss you looked at her and Marlene let out a soft laugh as she sucked on the skin of your jaw. Grabbing your hand she tugged you towards Lily and pushed you on the sitting girls lap.

Sitting down next to Lily, both of them looked at you with small smiles. You were nervous and incredibly turned on, looking at them eagerly, ready to do whatever they wanted to.

„Lily told me about your little crush on me..“, Marlene drawled and you looked up at her, cheeks flushing crimson. „Maybe you‘d like to show me just how much you fancy me? Lily wasn‘t so convincing..“

Lily was grinning now and leaned to whisper in your ear as you and Marlene held eye contact. „You want to get on your knees and make our Marls come? Hm? You’d like that wouldn’t you, you filthy girl.“ You whined quietly, hips involuntary grinding on Lilys thighs and let out a „Yes! Please!“ eyes hooded as you held Marlenes eyes. The blonde leaned back on her hands and spread her legs to give you space on the ground, her voice dominating, „On your knees pet, I want you to make me cum.“

You scrambled to get on the floor, hands trembling as you unbuttoned her quidditch uniform and pulled them down her legs. Lily was busy making out with her, taking off her shirt to play with her breasts. You pushed her legs up, so her feet were resting on the bed and kissed around her bare pussy, wanting to take your time with making her fall apart. Marlene was already soaked from your kissing earlier, a proud grin spread on your face and you kissed her clit softly. Her hands combed through your hair, slightly pushing your mouth against her clit and you licked her firmer now. You couldn‘t get enough once you got a taste and your tongue lapped on her pussy, licking and sucking on her cunt. She fucked your face, moaning against Lilys lips, but you wanted her attention on you. You wanted to look into her eyes when she came gushing in your mouth. Pulling away you pushed two fingers into her tight hole, curling the fingers to find her spot, your thumb playing with her swollen clit. Marlene shot up with a gasp, leaning on her elbows.

„Mmmh fuck right there, right there pet, ah-“, her voice cut off, breathless as she moaned and moved her hips fast to fuck your fingers deeper into her needy pussy. „Fuck I‘m close, Lily, lick my clit baby, c‘mon“ Lily joined you on the ground and locked her lips around Marlenes clit. Sucking on her clit and Marlene trembled, letting out strangled moans as you fucked her through her first orgasm of the night. Taking your fingers out you put them into Lilys mouth, the red head sucking them clean and kissed you, sharing the taste. „God, c‘mere love“, Marlene let out as she pulled you on the bed. „Want you to ride my face sweetheart, can you do that for me? Can you do that for your Marls?“ „Oh, yes please!“

You hastily took off your clothes throwing them carelessly on the ground and knelt over her face. God, she looked so good. Blonde hair sprawled around her head, blue eyes peering up at you desperately. Seeing your hasitation, she locked her arms around your legs in a strong grip and pulled you down, instantly licking at your cunt. You were so absorbed in your pleasure of finally being touched by your crush, that you didn‘t even notice how Lily fastend her strap-on around her hips. Positioning herself behind you, she placed her hand between your shoulder blades to arch your back down and rubbed the tip against your hole. Realizing what was going on you tried to get up and peer around, but Lily‘s grip was strong, holding you down by your neck and fuck into you hard. You let out a shriek, gasping and moaning, your body trembling with bliss. You couldn’t move and your girls were feral at this point, Marlene sucking harder on your clit, Lily fucking your wet cunt in rapid thrusts.

„Fuck her harder Lily she deserves it. Stop squirming an take it slut, I thought that‘s what you wanted? Wanted us to fuck you?“

Lily let out a condescending laugh, „C‘mon sweetheart, show us how brave you can be. You‘re not a snake are you? You‘re our brave little lion? Our little cock slut?“

„You gonna cum? Hm? You gonna cum all over my face? Cum, slut! Now!“

And you came, body tightening as you grinded your clit on Marlenes face, fucking back into Lily. You were burning up with the force of your orgasm, your breath coming out in hard pants, body weak. They were praising you now, calling you their good little girl, kissing and shushing you.

„Good job, pretty! So good for us, hm Lils?“

„Yes, good girl! So pretty when she cums, Marls, should‘ve seening her pretty face.“

Marlene took the strap on into her mouth, licking of your slick and moaned. „Merlin, she tastes so good.“ „Fuck, gimme a taste..“

Marlene kissed her, tongue licking into Lilys mouth. It was filthy, the sounds of their breathing and moans and kisses were absolute sin and you were needy, letting out a whine. Lily kissed at Marlenes neck, sitting in the girls lap as Marlene shot you a grin.

„What is it baby, feeling left out? C‘mon, on the ground. Want you to make Lils cum.“

You had a different idea, however and bit your lip, „Wanna see you fuck her Marls, please. Wanna see you fuck her with your pussy.“ Lily let out a shocked gasp, her giggles reaching your ears, „God, love you are filthy, aren‘t you? What do you say Marlene, let‘s put on a show-“

Marlene didn‘t even let her finish her sentence and flipped her over, pressing a hard kiss on your lips, „Enjoy the show then, darling.“

They made out slowly, passionately kissing each other breathless, hands everywhere touching softly. Marlenes lips sucked bruises on Lilys freckled skin, making the red head gasp and hum in bliss. Marlene took charge, sliding one leg under Lilys and pushed her hips forward to rub her aching cunt against Lilys pussy. Both of them let out a high pitched moan at the contact, rubbing their clits together and got lost in their pleasure. You were hot again, reaching down to touch your own clit, not daring to make a noise, aftaid that you‘d miss their sounds.

„Fuck Marl- ah Marlene, please make me cum, m‘gonna fu-”

Marlene went faster, brows furrowed and lips in a tight line, concentrating on making Lily squirt. Lily was screaming at this point, rutting against her friend until her body went stiff, head thrown back and whined loudly, pussy gushing with her orgasm. Marlene came again, whimpering as she slowed down, leaning her head back and let out a heavy breath. You came as well, in time with Marlene, both of you sharing hazy smiles.

The girls lazily got up and crawled their way towards you, caging you in with their naked, sweaty bodies. Lily rested her head on your naked breasts, softly sucking on the skin and Marlene tucked your head under her chin.

„This wasn‘t a one time thing right?“, you said, fearing the answer.

„‘Course not, baby. Want you both as often as possible“, Marlene replied, kissing your sweaty forehead. Lily simply nodded against your skin, snuggling in closer.

You beamed at Marlene, breathing her in as you fell asleep between their warm bodies, content and worn out.

[muffindaddystyles]

KISMETS (Part 2)

Harry Styles x fem!reader.

Slow burn, platonic love and bunch of affection.

Fluff! Smut! Smut!

Frenemies to lovers, dad!Harry, Bestfriend!Harry.

Author's Note: The concept's kinda weird but if you've watched F.R.I.E.N.D.S and Phoebe Buffay carrying child for someone. You've got it my pal!

MASTERLIST PART ONE PART 3

"Oh pet . . you're jealous innit?" He swipes the tip of his finger over the waffle picking the puff of cream and swallowing it whole, "'M not! Why'd I be?" She squeals kicking at his boots.

"Always told me y'had a candy crush at Harold." He smirks mischievously. Spitting truth. She smacks his bicep with a wide open mouth.

Or

Y/N's carrying Harry's babies and is trying not be angry at him for pulling her into all of this with him.

//

Red's everywhere. It makes her pout. Everyone have someone to celebrate the day but she's the only one giving careless ears to Niall who's sitting opposite from her in the crispy lilac heart booth, "Mean ye' fought again with him?" He stirs the mango bobas in his drink wiggling his brows at her to fill him with some tea. She gasps full of drama and surprises, "What d'ya mean 'again? D'ya think 'm this crackhead that rips people in two for no-reason?" She whispers the last part when a waitress passed by them.

"No. Pet what 'm sayin' is --- you're too, feisty with Harry." He chuckles leaning to meet her betrayed gaze, "Did he bribe you with new golf stick? You've switched sides." She juts her bottom lip wet from pink marmalade drink and startles in her spot when Niall cackled ever so loud at her silliness.

"I just tol' him to go through Chessie marathon somewhere else than my home." Harry was at her flat as always. She was making red velvet strawberry flavoured muffins for the moment ( promised not to give it to Harry — "even if he'll beg") and then she fulfilled her promise when she saw him going through his pictures together with Chessie. The jealous little Y/N jumped out from her polite skin and she just tinsy bit mocked him, "I'd never look back at the person who'd have left me and my children. . ." That broke a mighty bit argument between the two idiots. How they're gonna take care of two babies when they themselves need a person to put them away from eachother?

"Oh pet . . you're jealous innit?" He swipes the tip of his finger over the waffle picking the puff of cream and swallowing it whole, "'M not! Why'd I be?" She squeals kicking at his boots.

"Always told me y'had a candy crush at Harold." He smirks mischievously. Spitting truth. She smacks his bicep with a wide open mouth. Sighing he grabs Y/N's hand knocking some sense into mama bear gently and making her nod with the each advice, "'s valentine's day 'course he misses her. His wounds are fresh they need ointment babe -- You've always been so good with him, what's the matter now?"

She circles her fingers round eachother. Sucking her lip harshly and not meeting Niall's intense stare, "Turns me mad that 'cos of one person we're here now." She mumbles caressing the belly button protruding from the flimsy fabric of her oversized hoodie.

"It's the fate, pet. Always tol' me how much you liked kids." She shakes her head in denial. "Not in this situation where 'm lost and doesn't know how it'll work out — " He cuts her off with concern.

"Talked to Harry bout it?" When she again denies he asks, "What you're gonna do about it then?"

"Dunno. Share?" She's new to all of this. What did she actually mean was that they could do it like how divorce parents do it, maybe? Doesn't know how Harry wants to handle the situation just leading a blind eye with him. Hasn't even considered getting ready for the life that'll come along with them.

"They're babies not a packet of crisps, Y/N!." He burst into giggles and she huffs slumping against the foggy window, "Pain in arse you're." She scoffs that pout still intact the whole time while Niall keeps on giggling finding it too funny.

. . .

Walking from the elevator to her flat's door seems like hiking a mountain for her and cherry ontop that the stares she gets from her neighbours is full of judgments. It makes her want to hide underneath her blankets and never pop her head out. Her brows coming together in wonder at the sight of small wood basket at her doorsteps.

"Oh my god don't tell me someone left a baby at my doorsteps, Hello!!!??" She spins here and there but finds no-one but empty hallways when a feeble sound coming from inside it almost made her tumble on her bum. The last thing she wants is not another baby. With a grunty noise she ducks down to lift the basket supporting it at her belly and unlocking the door while trying to squint inside it.

When she throws the lid away a fuzzy little grey creature with big mossy eyes was pawing in air needy for attention, a red choker with heart in centre around her lil neck. It almost brought her to tears. Blame her being extremely emotional these days.

"Awww. Hi!" She fawns picking it up from armpits inspecting the miracle kitten that's here outta no where. A crumpled note laying in the basket with a bunch of colourful disoriented flowers.

"'M sorry fo' throwin' a tantrum and leavin' all fussy. This's oreo. I want her to grow along my kids! Also forgive mee plssssss?"

She giggles throwing her head back snuggling oreo against her throat as she meowed adorably sweet, "Daddy's such a daft ehh?" She says in between breaths petting the new addition to her loved ones.

The first thing she does is call him and he picks on the very ring as if anticipating for it, "Come back home you fool." His smile was infectious as he taps his feet in his car a lil over joyed at the thought.

"So generous." Running upstairs as he used to in oast with anticipation to spill the tea of his day to her in any hour of the day. The door was already open, them standing at the either boundary line of flat. His first priority's always to shower his babies in evermost affection. Falls to his knees smushing his face to her belly quenching outta a ribs aching laugh from her as he caress his cheeks against the soft side of her womb murmuring things that's a secret between him and his babies.

"Hey Angels!" He greets them patching a loving tight kiss atop her belly button that tickles her softly, stands up and meets her teary gaze from laughing with much serenity it knocks breath from her, "Hi mama angel." His whisper fuses against her skin while kissing her cheek.

"Hi. ." She inhales in his woodish vanilla scent. Preventing from melting into his arms she pulls him back from shoulders grinning at him, "Let's ruin valentines watchin' Anne Hathaway's romcom." He tuts instead leading her with him to the sofa.

"Can't be better than that –— let me pop in some popcorns real quick."

. . .

The yellow carpeted floor's littered with candy wrappers, packets of half folded crisps, peach sodas and an empty bowl of popcorns. Oreo snoozing in her basket. They're on their fourth romcom. Her legs in his lap. His's on coffee table. He chuckles everytime she takes almost three minutes to be in a comfortable position, ushering her to sit up so he could put cushions under her.

"Are you craving nama chocolates?" She eyes him nipping at her blanket trying to snuggle closer to him. He runs his thumb at her shoulder blade in soothing circles peering down at her, "'m not pregnant. ye're moppet. havin' a sweet tooth?" When she nods sheepishly he shakes his head quickly hoping on his feet.

"Don't be shy --- dunno where ye' got this giddiness from, 'm your bestie. Gotta tell me yeah? Lemme grab me jacket." He grabs her from wrists helping her up and goes to her wardrobe to get her fist gloves, beanie and warm slippers.

When hears her huffing and puffing grunty-ly his head perks up with brows furrowed, "What's it babe?" He pads towards her and when she turns for him to have a look the zip of her jacket bursts open all the way to end revealing her bump.

She pouts sadly, "Nothin' fits me anymore." He just smiles adorning the same puppy look in his eyes as her's to light up the tension.

"I'll buy ye' new. Those cute maternity clothes, ehh?" Shimmies down the clothing from her shoulders, "oi you don't have to!" She retorts and he bobs his head taking his own puffer jacket off to wrap it round her small body.

"Yes I do." He mumbles zipping her all the way up warm and squishy in his jacket three sizes larger than her. Pulls her hair out and cups the nape of her neck with his calloused soft palm bringing her closer to feather a delicate kiss to her temple, ". . .deserves more than just clothes — deserves the world always gonna be thankful to ye, pet." She gulps the cobweb of silence down her throat fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

"What you'll wear? 'S cold." He gives her an elfin grin flaring a baby pink knitted cardigan he sneaked from her wardrobe, "Harry!" She squeals with a giggle, "You're gonna look like grann Matlinda."

"Ehm. 'etter not forget to send her a picture when 'm matchin' with her." He quips snapping his fingers.

. . .

They walk over the glittery layer of slushie snow and Harry walks infront of her two steps at a time capturing pictures of her as she prowls carefully trying to move the hood away from blocking her vision, "Ye'r walkin' like a penguin -- cutie!" He giggles with each echo of flash.

"Look who's saying an otter himself!" She mimics him and he blushes under the mellowness of street lamp. They're champs at pulling eachother's legs.

"It's soooooo slippery." She complains wiggling her fingers from under the sleeve, "Grab me hand 'n don't leave it kay?" He smiles like advising a three year old who's afraid of crowds in a market. His grip warm and safe for her.

. . .

"Aish. gimme gimme!" She gets all jumpy on her toes when Harry comes out of the shop with a box of chocolates and two sticks. "'Ey greedy pup." He chuckles booping her button nose opening the silky lid of box revealing the velvety delcious chocolates. He picks the stick up taking a piece of chocolate with it and hovering it over her little mouth. Scrunching his nose at how adorable she gets the moment she chews it.

"Hmm. 'S so soft!" She gulps wetting her cold lip getting all butterfly feeling when she catches him gazing down at her as if she hung the moon and saturns. Raises her brow for an inquiry if he's okay tugging him closer with a gentle clutch to his cardigan.

Their surroundings turning into ice crystals of blur carelessness, the noises of glimmering lights into lulls of whisper and their bodies cocooning into snuggly blanket when Harry's fingertips fluttered tenderly against her cheeks glueing her at the spot. Leans in to press his lips softly to her plush sweet ones in a heartwarming caring kiss that flooded her veins with warmth and made her brain mushy unable to think.

"Yours are softer lil penguin." He murmurs stroking the corner of her mouth and smirks when she squeaks a thank you in return.

"Such a cutie." He cooes squishing her blushed cheeks and kissing each of them with loud wet noise till she pushed him away wiping his wetness with a pout. "'M highly offended pet ya never used to wipe me kisses away."

She shuts him up by stuffing a chocolate in his mouth. Walking back home with his arms wrapped around her protectively as he comes up with silly jokes whole way.

. . .

Everything reminds her of him. That fuzz of kitten. The empty box of chocolate. Couldn't even focus on the work she's doing on her laptop. It's just that gooey feeling never left ---- now it has gotten stronger with it's mushk when Harry kissed her under that beautiful sky of wintery lilacs. If he's playing with her feelings he better not cause she'll break him in two in that case.

He was out shopping clothes for her when she texted him if he'll like to eat roasted chicken she made for lunch. The mere thought of him caring for her brings her to tears because before him nobody was there except only him that knew her from the depths of her heart.

"You look pretty. . ." She finds typing hard while laughing this loud as Harry sent her mirror pictures of him trying the maternity clothes himself that he's supposed to buy for her, "Thought a visual representation will be good idea ;)" He shrugs typing back with a grin standing bottom naked in the changing room getting a rolling eye emoji in return.

She yawns putting her phone aside when Harry got busy into his hunt for nice warm clothes for her. Something wasn't fine today. She's been changing sides for an hour now and she couldn't sleep. Her shoulders twitching with each blink of eye and when she finally slips into a light conscious sleep a bone rattling pain shoots through her whole damn body. She jolts from the state of haze and tries to sit up when another zap of pain makes her feel limbless. A feeble grunt of helping cry fizzes out of her when she feels a cramp at the bottom of her spine.

In her panicked state she fumbles for her phone dialing the first emergency number doesn't give him a chance to speak before she's yelling into receiver out of anxiousness, "Harry somethin' not right! — 'm m havin' these contractions —--" He's been out dining with Niall and shoots from his seat the minute her worried voice reached his ear.

"It's okay, lovie. yeah? 'M comin' take deep breaths how we practiced —-- I'll be there in a mo'." He assures her in his softest most pacific rasp but she shakes her head vigorously tears brimming in her sleepy eyes. Oreo tries to comfort her by sitting in her lap and rubbing her crown against her tummy.

"They aren't supposed to come this early . . . fo' fucks sake haven't even started my third trimester!" Harry doesn't know what to do except of consoling her and fidgeting around as Niall drives the car with same expressions of anxiousness and panic as Harry.

"Oh . . It's gone." She frowns in confusion able to sit now and it takes a little of burden away from Harry. He listens to the rustling going on her side jumping on his bum almost screaming into phone, "Stay where you're don' move!"

"Oh my god. They're back I'm not ready for this . . I'm not ready for this Harry." She cries and Harry even leaves Niall behind squeezing into the elevator fingers crossed at his back.

"'M here. Call our midwife can ye' do that fo' me, puppy?" She sniffs nodding to herself. Calling their assisted midwife with shaky fingers and tries to breath looking up at the ceiling.

In the meantime Harry's barging through the door pacing towards her in hurries steps. His face pale that if he has seen a ghost. She tries to saturate the distance between them knowing at this moment how much she wants him in her life.

He sits her back carefully crouches down and wipes her tears away, "'m so scared . ." She whispers squeezing his biceps and her phone's still ringing atop the sheets, "Don't be baby. Ye' have me — 'm not leavin' yer side."

He massages the dimples of her spine and runs warm hands at her sides to calm her down when their midwife picks up their call, "Hi. Is everything okay?"

"No Y/N's havin' these light contractions 'n 's not even the time of her labour." There's a pause from her side and Y/N bolts a worried glance at Harry in return he cradles her cheek to assure her.

"Oh . . that's nothin' to worry bout Mr. Styles. Those're some mild braxton hicks she might have mistaken with labour contractions." They both takes a sigh of relief but the little tick of pain keeps on coming and subsiding.

"They start at the beginning of third trimester, Y/N are you still getting 'em?" She asks her and Y/N clears her throat tugging the sheet beside her.

"Yes but less painful. Is that okay though?"

"Completely okay. Harry rest her against the headboard and push her knees upto her chest they'll be gone in a snap." He nods at her instructions helping Y/N lean against the headboard of bed gently and scooting between her thighs to do as she told.

"Better?" He whispers glancing up at her while wrapping his hands around her bended calves and pushing it slowly against her front, the move relaxing her pelvic muscles. Her head lulls at her shoulders from the effect and she hums from throat making Harry choke on his own spit.

He dares not to drift his gaze from her rigid features which are loosing it's tightness seconds after. Their breaths erratic from the humidity of sexual tension in the room when Y/N gets back to normal diverting her all attention to Harry who has his head tucked between her fleshy thighs. A blush creeping at her flushed cheeks and Harry gives her a flustered chuckle kissing the top of her knee to answer back Miss. Dori who's been asking how's Y/N.

"Stay hydrated and don't forget to take your vitamins." Saying this she ends the call. Y/N takes a huge sigh of relief spreading her legs back and Harry squeezes her ankles, "When was the last time you had a glass water?"

"Two hours ago." He rolls his eyes. "Supposed to be drinkin' every hour . . dehydration's s' unhealthy fo' you pet." He leaves the bed meandering through her wardrobe taking out a bag with Oreo in his armpit.

"What're you doing?" She gasps with wide eyes looking back at Niall who's still standing at the doorframe. God. It's so embarrassing he had to watch all of that. Now, he'll never not stop teasing her about it.

"Packin' 'cos ye're stayin' with me. No protests." Like she was going to. She loves to stay at his house. His guest room's mattress is such a royalty to sleep at.

. . .

When he tucks her under the layers of blanket she decides it's still not warm enough and grabs at his wrist when he was about to leave, "Can we cuddle please?" His lips quirks up with happiness and he crawls to the empty side of bed still letting her hold onto him. Slipping beside her to canoodle her cosily against his front nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck with "mhmpm." sounds of exhaustion.

"Anytime." Her eyelids slip shutting from the comfort he brings along with him, "ye' okay now?" His lips leaves it's sparkle at her skin as he mumbles spooning her from behind and spreads his palm wide atop her belly protectively. She nods cuddling into his bicep kissing the inside of his elbow and slips into darkness just with the song of his breath.

"Good night Angel."

. . .

She wakes up to the ruckus going outside and gurgling stomach from hunger. Pinches the blanket around her head and waddles outside yawning her way. Harry making brekkie in the kitchen, a grinder running, and waffles sizzling as he himself is moving around like Remy the Rat in ratatouille. His muscles stretching out with each haste motion and it made her tummy stir. She's been trying not be horny but it proves to be the hardest task when he's always around being that charming and alluring.

"Pet!" He grins spinning with a VR camera in his hand that makes her giggle, "What you're doing?" She giggles trying to hike up the stool.

"Recording the days with our babies until it's labour." Immediately he's at her side helping her sit up putting the camera at the counter and Y/N waves at it adorably voice low and sleepy, "Hi babies it's me your mommy." It catches Harry off guard. His heart shaped mouth baubles into awed expression as he blinks the shock away from his vision looking down at her.

"What happened?" She asks him in concern but he shakes his head pecking her hair and handing her the camera to go back to prepare brekkie — moreso to recover from the happy surprise of her acceptance or he might scream into these four walls.

He's got a heart of gold. Pure from the selfish intentions and full of love. He thinks he's an utter dimwit for neglecting his feelings for his own fucking bestfriend and finding love into places that were never meant for him. Now, he can't think of someone else as the mother of his children except her.

He smiles wet-ly to himself. Waterline stinging from the sweet epiphany that they're really gonna be parents. Together. That she's his person. Who never left his side. Fulfilled his dream of becoming of a dad when his own girlfriend backed out cowardly. What did he do to get her written in his fate?

"Would we get to eat in this hour of day Chef?" She quips elbow perched on the counter and chin resting in her palm. We. It makes his insides melt into squish of adoration and love for her, "Sorry! I know ye're hungry." He pouts apologetically putting the plates and a glass of smoothie infront of her tucking a napkin into her crew neck.

"I don't need that, pet!!" She laughs squeezing his thigh to refrain from falling -- for the fact she's the most clumsy person Harry knows, "look cute 's just all." He giggles back pulling his bottom lip that she has done a great job of flustering him this early in the morning — gonna be like that the whole darn day with the her words swimming in his mind hi babies it's me your mommy ——

"Hmm. It's so yummy!" She gives him a thumbs up leaning down to sponge a kiss to his cheek and his dimple milks against her lips from the shyness. He scrunches his nose as a cover up from blushieness else he might burst into lil confetti, "yeah?" His irirses twinkles impishly as he gave her an eskimo kiss.

They're so domestically in love. It's cute. Does thingies without knowing they've rocketed past the intense levels of intimacy.

When she whines at the end refusing to drink the green smoothie it's where he went all stern and daddy-ish with her. Pulling her into his lap, holding her wrists with his nimble finger and placing the rim of the glass at her lips encouraging her to drink, "I might puke." She tells him in a warning.

"Okay after drinking this." He declares not caring if she wrenches at him quiping with a pinch of brows petting her back.

"You're sucha meanie bro!" Bestfriend shit. More like lovers shit.

. . .

Blank staring is useless as fuck and mind tiring even if it's done sitting in the comfiest corner of sofa to get a watch of some piece of furniture, toys and clothes that litreally just belongs to little humans that are resting in her womb. There's this nice lady that Harry gave away all of this things to because she's having her third child and couldn't be able to afford this stuff for her baby, at the moment she's here to shift it.

"You don't have to --- I don't care. It's just some stuff you guys bought together." She had told him before he sat on the decision and once he makes up his mind nobody can make him act otherwise.

"Nope. Bought things fo' me babies by the choice of a person who wasn't even their mother in the first place, never deserved to be —-- would never be. We'll do everything from scratch . . ." His words held venom and hatred for her unlike the usual sadness and betrayal they carried weeks ago as he wrapped his forearm around her collarbones flushing her closer to his chest swaying in the living lounge, ". . . remember the plushies nan Matlinda gave ye' on ya eighteenth? Thinking it was yer thirteenth birthday? Found them from under me bed last night. Will throw 'em in the laundry and the descion will be on yours if ye' want them fo' yourself or your babies." She nods giggling and he joins her.

"'Course that'd be s' cute. My kids playin' with plushies that were once mine!" She clapped her hands atop her chest in sheer excitement.

At the moment, he flops onto sofa beside her with a dramatic huff after bidding the lady a warm good bye. Squeezing Y/N ankles as she's laying on her side. A pillow under her thigh for the ease purpose head on the other cushion, "Watching's the hardest work innit toots?" He grins impishly and she bobs her head with hooded eyes.

Rolling her shoulder to pop some joints to show her tiredness she's good at acting made him scoot closer to her immediately, "Actually yes — " Gets cut off with Harry getting really caring about her in instant.

"Lemme give ya good rub." His calloused palms starts it gentle pressure from the heels of her feet tricking up her calves and she hums sweetly with her face smushed into cushion. He does it for a minute, thumbing at her soles and popping her toes making her giggle lazily.

Her breaths turns warmer against the fabric when he glides his touch up her soft thighs running a trembling shiver into her blood and the coaxation from the daily tiredness plus the effect of him on her almost made her whine. Their breaths hitches at the same time his pinky brushes at the curve of her bossom peeking from underneath her pyjama shorts.

It makes her clench her thighs from the burn coiling in her tummy and it's embarrassing because he's doing nothing but giving her a rub. When the second time the pads of his supple fingers paints imaginaries at her skin she wiggles her cute ass and moans with an alluring stretch of throat when Harry slapped her arse playfully.

"'S good?" He rasps palming balmily her bossom ass hands gliding dangerously low to where she's pulsating with desire, "don't tease . ." She gives out a kitten-ish whine griping the corner of cushion to exhert the tension in her muscles. With a single glance to her deshilved state he slides his hand between her fleshy thighs pressing his lanky fingers against the wet splotch of her arousal from the only approximty of him.

"Jeez pet. ye'r absolute soakin'." He whispers circling her clit in tight circles from over her pyjamas and she ruts her hips in his hand for more. He hovers his fingers round the hem of her shorts testing the waters and if she really wants it ---- although she proves it with a groan indicating him to get rid of the material.

"Such a pretty bum 's a shame I got to touch it now." He traces the imprint of his redness on her skin making her hiss into her elbow and he pulls her over his lap; slowly feathering his touch between her pink slick folds down to her hole making her clinch around his digits trying to swallow them.

"S' tight babe. How long someone's been between these beautiful legs?" His words don't carry any taunt. It's just a genuine question. She gulps trying to escape the haze — couldn't when he's gliding his fingers non-stop in her wetness with dirty noises, "dunno . . don't remember!" She squeaks when he slides them inside her with ease from slickness caging a grunty moan that's threatening to slip from his lungs.

"It's been that long then . . ." He drawls out and Y/N's shook that she hasn't heard him in that tone ever before or maybe she's too floaty. This Harry intimidates her in a sweet way, makes her want to be blanketed under his warm weight always, to depend on him and be with him always. Makes her want to kiss him till the colours fade out and blossom back again with the witnesses of their love.

"Harry . ." She moans fogy-ly when he adds two more letting her stickiness drip down his thighs, "Yes baby." He giggles bashfully sneaking his arm under her shoulders to kiss her cheek.

"Gonna cum." She cries out softly nipping at his skin and he pushes his fingers deep till knuckles in her cunt pounding inside her with a pleasuring pressure, "Didn't stop ya." His little bubble kisses trails to the crook of her neck biting down to glitter hues of his affection for her.

"Oh my!" Her eyes popshut and thighs smack crampies his hand cumming on his fingers. Making a mess down his wrists, his trousers and the hem of his shirt. She purrs cheeks smashed near his thick thigh into velvet when he rubs her back to soothe her heated body down as that of a kitten, "Ye purrs are puttin' oreo to shame, moppet." He pushes her up. Straddling her each leg around his torso letting her melt onto him.

"S' warm." He mumbles against her throat pecking where the paths of her veins leads him to. Grabs her chin and nuzzles his nose to the underbelly of her jaw saturating her closer to his chest. She hiccups a breath when his swelling bulge nudges her already sensitive pussy making her wet again; she blames her hormones.

"Can you fuck me, please?" She gives him pleading eyes swiveling her hips back and forth against his thick length, "Don't 've to ask pretty girl." He kisses her mouth. It's not like their first kiss. Their first held innocence and sccachirness. This one's rather filthy, full of sucking, bites and spit. He splits his thumb in her hair cupping her cheeks kissing her passionately and winding his arm around her waist to caress her belly.

When she throws her shirt away he puffs out unbelievably taking in her to memorize each velvteen of her skin, "Fuck you're so beautiful moppet." It splashes blush at her features and his eyes litreally twinkles at the sight of her being like this. When his eyes halt at the swell of her titts he exhales through his nostrils a grin worming up at the little rainbow patterned bra she's wearing.

"Cutie." He kisses her again. It's like he can never stop kissing her ever. Her plump candy lips make it impossible. She skids his trousers down wrapping her hand around his girth squeezing him to quench out a throaty grunt from him. Stroking his cock with his pre-come and arches her back when his weepy head brushes against her cunt.

He helps her to take his cock being ever so carefull with her since she's pregnant but Y/N wants otherwise. She's insatiable. Could bite him whole at the time.

"Use me baby ---- make yourself cum with my cock. Wanted it yeah? C'mon now fuck me pretty girl. Take it all in. Yeah . . . Jus' like that." He grits stretching her to max and brings her neck to snuggle in to his chest when she was about to fall back because of her limbs giving out due to the ecastasy. She spurts out a giggle putting her hands between them to recoup herself and moves with his assistance on her ass.

"It's hard." She whines walls fluttering around his dick making him moan, "what me prick?" He smirks batting his eyelashes to get through the haze.

"Such a rotten joke." She rolls her eyes riding him with faster pace now and it's turning them all sweaty and hot, "mhmp. good girl takin' me cock s' well." His hands wanders above her tummy fondling with her nipples and takes it in his mouth while giving the same attention to other one with his thumb pulling it and tweaking it gently not to harm her, "don't like my jokes but you love my prick --- want to make ye' feel amazin' with it."

His balls thwacking against her bum and she leverages herself with his shoulders crying out in his ear when he hit a spot inside her she could never with her own fingers — she narrows her knees for more closeness and he tucks loose errands of her hair away kissing her temple with closed eyes.

"Tired?" His wet lips teases her earlobe and when she nods he gropes her ass thrusting up inside her, "It feels more good when daddy does it . . doesn't it?" He pounds roughly with a sharp angle of his pelvis and keeps on fucking her till she's crying his name.

She's a puddling. His words only made her float into her own head space where it's golden streaks in the amidst of violet clouds.

His own groans getting hoarse when she pulses around his cock milking and pushing his head fat out it makes him choke onto his spit, "cum for me --- inside me want it s' bad." She whispers woving fingers with his's and pressing it into sofa still grinding down at him whole body jolting from the sensitivity.

He does cum inside her. Filling her to brim with his seed it oozes out making soppy sounds when he pumps it back with lazy strokes to extinguish the last sparkle of fire that was crackling in their insides.

Remains like that. Tangled and dishelved. Listening to eachother's silence. He didn't even got a chance to pull out of her when his phone startled them beside her making her cramp hard around him and his head falls on the headboard with a grunt.

"Fuck." He squints back and pretends to eat the apple of her cheeks with roar like noises tickling her side making her stomach squeeze with laughs when his phone rings for another time and she ushers him to pick it.

His expressions remains stoic. Lips thinned into a hardline as he listens to the person on the other side. She's familiar with it. The feminine seductive voice she can never unhear --- it pangs her heart with an unbearable amount of pain and clogs her windpipes.

Dunno from where she found the need to ask this she did with a second thought from the anxiousness whirling in her mind the second he ends the call, "Are you gonna leave me now?" Tears of hurt without her knowing are already spilling down the valley of her chest.

Harry stares her. But, she could see nothing in them due to blurness from the pulversive of a single call.

[mandoinevarro]

Deep into the Wilderness

Words: 4.7k (this was supposed to be short but, alas, i am an asshole) 

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut, sex pollen :0, dubious consent (see: sex pollen), a bit of size kink ö, multiple orgasms :O, light descriptions of blood, magic nature if you’re in the mood, incredible coincidences if you’re not

a/n: i genuinely thought this would be a lil drabble :/, also fuck snakes all my homies hate snakes

There’s something wrong about the stars.

Nights in the Tatooine desert are usually dim and still, as stoic as the Mandalorian who’s been journeying across the endless dune sea with you in your little caravan of two. These past few days, you’ve noticed that the jagged difference between coarse sand and smooth beskar are no obstacle for his ability to blend perfectly into his surroundings. For days, you’ve seen the bounty hunter cruise the barren wilderness like he was born in it, climbing the mounds of sand leisurely and offering his hand when the treacherous ground gives in under your feet and you tumble forward. Ever the gentleman. Silent and observant, he tends to adapt to the elements around him and mimic their energy, until he becomes part of the landscape. Tonight is no different.

The normally scattered and shy desert stars have all gathered in a cluster right above your modest campsite, blinking down at you white and yellow and red against an electric blue sky, bright enough to spare the need of a fire. You feel watched. The stars’ ghoulish eyes above trail your every movement. Waiting to witness something.

Yes, a meek voice inside lies for you, it must be the stars, as you purposefully try to ignore the crushing weight of the Mandalorian’s trained gaze on you, much heavier than the strong beskared arm resting on your upright knee. The tube of bacta ointment moves awkwardly under your fingers and, Maker, you know it won’t be enough. The small holes on the wool covering his arm reveal two angry red pupils gushing blood where the snake’s fangs pierced him; pupils that stare amused at the medical salve that they know and you know and Mando knows will do little neutralize the unknown toxin. You sit so close to him you can hear the hitch of his breath when you pinch the tube and white balm oozes onto your finger.

“I—Mando, I-I think we should get help.” It doesn’t help your nerves that the man to your left hasn’t stopped staring at you since the ruby red viper appeared from under the sand like a conjuring, going straight for the Mandalorian’s arm and slithering back inside its hiding place beneath the dunes before either of you could react. It was unnatural; desert creatures tend to linger in the shadows and never attack unless provoked. Then again, everything about this particular evening—including the bounty hunter—seems to be slightly off, like when something in a familiar place is moved, but you can’t figure out exactly what.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” the voice under the modulator scratches at a  lower register than usual, gruffier in a way that would excite you and warm your belly if you weren’t so worried about the liquid currently poisoning his bloodstream. It must be the pain. “Two days by foot to the nearest town. Just use the bacta.”

You gulp and nod as firmly as you can manage, trying to quiet the whisper saying that bacta won’t cut it this time as you get your finger closer to his arm. It’s strange that he asked for your help—the bite is right on the pulse point of his inner elbow, where he could easily do it himself. Maker, just focus. He must have had a good reason to ask you. Plus, you’re not about to miss the promise of even the slightest physical contact with the Mandalorian, even if the situation is not exactly as you’ve fantasized all these months.

Your finger presses lightly into one of the gaps, and with a bit more force when you hear a raggedy exhale leave him. The opening the snake left behind is too small for your finger, and most of the bacta gathers around its edges, while barely any gets to the wound.

“I, um…I need to cut it—t-the fabric,” you stutter and, stars, you sound like an idiot, getting nervous over applying balm when you’ve seen him cauterize his own injuries with a steady hand, much to your horror. You can feel the way his eyes feed from your words as they study you carefully, somehow strengthening the gravity pining you to the ground. A strange static crinkles in the air between you, so real you almost hear it, and for a moment you feel the weight of his stare move past your face, lower down your body. By the time he finally nods and signals towards the open medical kit with a tilt of his helmet, you’re warm all over.

Stretching your torso just the right amount so that his arm doesn’t slip from your knee, you reach straight for the scissors in front of you. Your fingers pinch the fabric to lift it while your other hand works the clippers, cutting with tiny snip-snip-snips that do little to fill the tense silence between you. Why it’s even tense to begin with is beyond you. Sure, Mando got bitten by some unknown creature that could potentially be lethal, but the invisible rope getting stretched from both ends more and more between your bodies has little to do with the mishap. Stars, it feels like it’s pulling you closer and pushing you apart at the same time, and the arm on your knee suddenly feels like it’s burning through your pants. What would happen, you muse as you crank your wrist, if the rope gave in?  

The scissors close their circuit, and you lift a small circle of cloth, leaving the clippers aside. It’s a little bigger than it needed to be, but the Mandalorian doesn’t complain when you properly apply bacta on the lesion, sitting like a statue with the visor shining dark blue at your face. The stars reflect distorted on his helmet with judging eyes, like they can hear your thoughts. Like they just know how being so close to the man you think about to warm cold nights is making your heart pump more blood that you need. To places that definitely don’t need it.

You raise your other hand and rest it on his bicep. It’s only to pull the sleeve a little higher. To give you more room to work. And it’s only with that touch that he flinches.

You immediately lift both hands. “Sorry, I—I’m sorry, does…does it hurt—?”

“—No.” Mando moves his good arm and grabs your hand roughly, bringing it to rest on his bicep once again. He clears his throat, unable to wash away the grainy strain on his voice. “No, it—it’s fine.” His large palm stays over yours for a moment, before pulling away slowly. Reluctantly.

You nod and continue your ministrations, massaging a little more bacta than necessary on the bite. Maker, you never want to stop touching him. The patch of olive skin burns hotter than the planet’s twin suns under your touch, and you feel under your other hand how every shift of your finger makes his bicep jump in response.

His flesh absorbs the ointment fast, and you’ve now covered even the surrounding area around the bite, so you lift your finger, a bit disappointed that your little moment of intimacy is over. Until you feel him tug at his end of the rope.

“Cut more,” he breathes, and you freeze before you can lift the hand off his arm, staring right at the visor with eyes round as moons.

“Cut—cut more? More cloth? Wh—”

“The venom will travel up my veins.” Mando’s voice is a little steadier, but it still doesn’t mask a strange tint of something that doesn’t sound quite like pain. “You need to check how far up it goes. If…if it goes into my chest…”

He doesn’t need to finish. You shuffle to your knees—a little clumsily because of the sand beneath—and let his arm fall to his side as you squeeze his strong bicep a little tighter. For support.

“Tell me when to stop.” The blades cut away at the fabric, revealing a vertical line of lovely skin with each snip. They go higher and higher, higher and higher, and it’s you who decides to stop when they almost reach his armpit. You rest the scissors next to your legs. The slit uncovers the upper half of his arm’s underside, and you can’t help it when one hand moves to rest on the pauldron and the other slips under the crevice to caress his skin.

Mando’s chest puffs with more air and moves quicker, and—fuck—he looks so broad like this. Sitting and injured, he still towers over you with the beskar and the mass of muscle beaten into him through years of fighting.

He could crush me. The idea pools hot in your core.

“What, uh, what am I looking for?” Your own voice is thick. It’s wrong, but you’re honest enough to admit it’s arousal.

“T-the veins.” You hear him gulp and imagine the apple on his throat bobbing up and down. “Feel around. Che—check if they’re protruding.” You comply, dragging your fingers up and down his burning, strong arm, getting caught up in how he tenses under your touch. He’s pulsing, sure enough, beating like a drum under your hand—you even manage to raise goosebumps when you give a test squeeze—but you can’t feel any veins.

“No.” The hunter exhales with relief and nods once, but his arm doesn’t follow, as it remains taut as wood. You don’t remove your hand. He doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into you.

An soft breeze raises a small cloud of sand and cools your face, whistling past you while it orders you to do it. “If it’s not pain,” you murmur, deciding it’s your turn to tense your end of the rope a little, “what do you feel?” You scratch your nails down his arm.

The gloved hand furthest away from you balls into a fist, clutching sand. “It—it, uh. It burns.” The words are dragged out and gritty, like they’re forcing their way out. He shivers and shuffles closer to you. “But—fuck—feels good. You—you feel good.” Encouraged, your nails sink into his flesh, testing the waters. Finally, it earns you a grunt, deep and rumbling its way between your thighs. In a split second, his arms fly to his shoulder, tugging at the cloak desperately, and you remove your hand from the opening to help him. It takes a few rough jerks, but the cloak eventually rips away from his pauldrons, and the Mandalorian throws it back. His hand travels to the side of his torso closest to you and signals. “Cut here.” He doesn’t offer an explanation this time.

Shit, you probably shouldn’t. But wetness is gathering around your folds and you’re not sure if you’ll actually get anywhere, but, Maker, you’re willing to try. Your hand is trembling when it finds the scissors next to you and you crouch slightly to cut away, eager and desperate to reveal more of the mysterious bounty hunter. This time, though, you don’t make a crevice, but instead cut a long rectangle from his waist to the side of his chest. You drop the scissors and the piece of fabric on top of the cloak and waste no time before your right palm crawls into the opening. Boiling skin welcomes your hand as it explores his naked torso, up a sturdy chest rising and falling rapidly, and back down again, savoring the sensation of soft skin over firm muscles flexing under your fingers. You stop at a trail of hair near his navel.

The Mandalorian growls. You scratch the hair lightly. The rope snaps.

Your hand slips outside when two hands grab your hips to lift you, setting you down to straddle Mando’s lap. You fall ungracefully, wobbling and grabbing at him to find your balance, until his steel arms wrap around your waist to press your chest to his. You grab his shoulders for support, and your warm breath clouds the beskar of his helmet. Your hips squirm unconsciously, making your core accidentally rub against something hard between the hunter’s legs. His grip on your back tightens and grinds you against him again, making him release a deep, primal moan against your ear. Fuck, you feel how hot liquid plops on your underwear as he ruts you against his erection, but somewhere in the back of your brain a puzzle solves itself in a snap and sends a pang of guilt to your chest.

“M-mando.” You sound whinier than you intended. “Mmando, I—I’ve heard about this, you’re poisoned, y-you don’t know what you’re d—”

“—Shut up,” he spits at you and pushes you roughly against him as a hand unwinds from your waist and wraps over your mouth. Your moans are muffled against his glove when a current shocks your body as your clit rubs just right over his bulge. You glance up at the stars, looking for guidance around the overwhelming pleasure threatening to break you, but they only stare back, burning brighter than before.

Suddenly, Mando pulls his hands away and pushes you off his lap. You fall back kneeling, worrying you’ve crossed a line somehow, but your anxieties disappear when you see him rip off his gloves and pull at your clothes hastily. You take the hint and help him undress you. The top garments he removes, but your underwear is ripped away and thrown to the side.

He whips around and finds his cloak, laying it on the sand and silently ordering with a finger to get on top. You shuffle on your knees until they reach the soft material, and—just when you’re about to turn around and beg him to touch you—the Mandalorian lifts the rectangle of cloth you cut away and wraps it around your eyes. Your vision gone but impossibly turned on, you feel his hands shove you back until you lay on the cloak.

Sand and hair tickle your face, and maybe it’s not the best idea to lay completely naked in the middle of a desert where you already know dangerous animals hide. The thought is quickly washed away by the heat of humid breath on your stomach. It throws you off for a moment, to feel a human gasp so clearly against your skin, but once you put two and two together the realization hits you so hard you slump limp on the ground.

The helmet…

You barely have time complete your thought. The Mandalorian climbs on top of you, a tuff of hair tickling your stomach. The trail of heat stops at your tits, where he takes a nipple into his mouth and bites down hard. You whimper to the sky.

“F-fuck, what—” He cuts you off when he laps at the injured nipple with fast, wide strokes of his tongue, before sucking hard on it. One palm holds down your chest, as the other comes up to squeeze your other breast, kneading and pulling the soft flesh like dough. You try to bite down your whimpers, but it’s too fucking much and they tumble outside urgent and needy.

Fuck, you should push him away. You both need to calm down before he forgets your body is attached to a living, breathing person and tears you apart. You—you—

The atmosphere seems to fall down on top of you when two thick fingers sink to the hilt inside your open hole effortlessly. You hum at the bliss while Mando’s wet tongue travels between your breasts, up your sternum, and leans into the curve of your throat, stopping only until it reaches your chin. You’re starting to cramp beneath him, trying to push down on his digits, but his body is too heavy over yours and fuck, fuck, you want him inside you.

His hand wraps around your cheeks and presses them together, making your mouth give in to the pressure and open up wide. His tongue—still salty with the taste of your own flesh—barges into the cave of your mouth and messily drags across its walls, your tongue, the roof, somehow everything at once with aimless movements that lack rhythm or pace.

And then his fingers start pumping. They start fast and hard and only get faster and harder, as they curl into a hook and hit something that makes you see the stars outside through the blindfold. Mando moans against your teeth, and you swallow every vibration.

“Yeah? T-there?” His mouth moves away from yours and trails the edge of your jaw, stopping at the edge and biting your neck. The two fingers working inside you push upwards to make room for a third one, and the calloused pad of his thumb rubs your clit up and down. Your scream echoes in the empty space of the sterile desert, now buzzing with life. “R-right there? Hm?” His voice hangs thick in the air, mixing with the loud static in your ears. Through the haze, you wonder momentarily what his face looks like right now. Probably red and sweaty, popping a vein or two.

“Fuck, I don’t k-know…I—I have to…” The Mandalorian removes all three fingers at once, making you yelp at the emptiness that they leave behind. Your pussy clenches a second too late and pulses around nothing, as you move in the darkness to find him again. You open your mouth to beg, but he grabs your shoulders before you can even gather some broken vocabulary together and he turns you around, pressing your chest and face against the cloak.

Resting your cheek on the cloak, you grunt at the abrupt change of position. Five fanned out fingers press down between your shoulder blades, restricting your movements and compressing all the air out of your lungs. You can’t breathe and you can’t wait, too stimulated to backpedal now, but not enough to be satiated.

An arm wraps around your midriff and roughly lifts your hips. You hear heavy breathing behind you and some incoherent mumbling, as a zipper lowers.  

Something round and smooth pokes at your entrance.

Is…is that…?

It definitely feels like the head of his cock as it runs up and down your folds gathering moisture. It even twitches a little against your clit and he’s grunting with every movement but…but even without your sight to help it feels so big. It can’t be his cock, in what universe would he be that fucking bi—

A grunt and a slight retrieval of his hips for impulse is all you get as a warning before he slams into you, lurching you forward. It knocks every single thought out your head, jamming what little air you’d managed to inhale on your trachea. The stretch bites, straining against your walls at an uncomfortable angle. And then he grinds further inside, deeply and hard as the bulbous head of his cock stimulates just about every nerve inside your pussy at once. You choke on your own cry, desperately trying to hold on to some sanity as you focus on processing the burst of pleasure that casts a dark shadow over the pain. The feeling secures every muscle on your body so tightly you think your spine is going to snap.

And he holds there, pulsing angrily and breathing down hot against your shoulders. You feel a slow trail of flames burn your insides with every strong sequence of thum-thum-thums of his thick cock against your walls.

Stars, did he cum?  Is that why he’s throbbing so violently, did he cum? It’s hard to tell when you’re so wet you’re sure you’re going to dehydrate tomorrow and fuck you only get wetter with the strumming and Maker you know the snake was poisonous but…but could he really want you this much?  

He sucks in a gulp of dusty air through his teeth, grunts and holds you tighter, his arm strong as beskar around your midriff and a burning palm pressing you against the cloak, sinking it deeper into the sand.

Finally, the Mandalorian pulls out with a grunt, your hips following his with a sucking sound because of the grip of your walls against his girth. He stops right before the tip slips out, its ridge catching on your opening. And maybe whatever venom running through his veins dissipated because he doesn’t move for a second that feels like an eternity. Fleeting disappointment surges inside you because maybe…maybe it was just the serpent. Maybe he doesn’t really want you. You are the only fuckable thing for miles, and you’ve heard enough about the toxin to imagine how desperate he’d be. Stars, you feel like such an idi—

Mando’s hips suddenly crash against yours, sinking himself to the hilt.

You feel him everywhere. Fucking everywhere, even where he isn’t. The fat cock hammering into you randomly with no pace or metric, seemingly determined to taste every inch inside your cunt takes most of your attention, but the hand on your back kneads and pulls the thin skin there as best as it can. You try to brace yourself against something solid—anything—but when your hands form fists they find only handfuls of sand, and the delicate particles do nothing to steady you from the animalistic thrusts of the Mandalorian.

So you moan, long and high to try and release all the pleasure stockpiling inside of you with no exit routes. Mando answers with grunts all the way down in his glottis. A deep and angled snap of his hips hits you somewhere electrifying, and you feel something hot and liquid knot your pelvic muscles tighter. His skin slaps against yours obscenely, paired with the squelching of your pussy trying to engulf him deeper and deeper in spite of his size.

“T-take it,” you hear him growl behind you. Barely. Your ears ring and you can’t even listen to your own whimpers anymore. His length keeps coming, restless and infinite and fuck, you need to focus on something else, something outside to keep your head from slipping away. “Just—just f-fucking take me whole, you—"

Fuck, focus. Focus, count to ten, do something—

You grit your teeth and you can’t even warn him. Something drops into your pelvic muscles and you swear you can see the blue desert sky in a flash behind your eyelids and feel the blinking stars prickling the nerve endings on your back, making you spasm desperately. Your head spins, and you only feel pleasure. Only him.

Still half-passed out from your release, you hear it before you feel it. The wet sound contrasting the dry dunes of how he keeps using your cunt to get himself off. He’s not letting you come down, fall to the natural next step of your cycle and relax. Breathe. No, he keeps filling every last inch of you, faster now with the help of the additional wetness and holds you in that state of euphoria that keeps hitting you like a tide. Shit, are you cumming again?

“F-fuck—fuck—d-did you—ngh—cum? W-was that—” Another wave hits you and you clamp down mercilessly around him before he can get an answer. His long moan gets you wetter somehow, and you can’t even savor it before the strong forearm holding your waist pulls you upright against him.

Up is down as you try to figure out in the darkness where your body ended up. Something slumps behind you and pulls you down with it hard against the cushioning of the sand. You find yourself impaled on the Mandalorian’s cock, his chest to your back. He bends and opens his legs to grab yours, pulling them back and hooking them around his cuisses. Propped up with most of your weight on Mando’s hips, your feet barely graze the cloak below them.

You reach up to touch him but he beats you to it, wrapping his arms around your torso and grabbing the surely bruising skin of your tits. Your eyes roll back and you try you best to keep your head above the water, which proves incredibly difficult when you feel his lips on your jaw, his drool trailing down your neck. You turn your head and he doesn’t miss a beat before his tongue slips between your lips, tasting and exploring and almost drinking from you like you’re water in he’s been stranded in this desert for years.

Mando thrust up at you, resuming his senseless fucking. And maybe you’re a little greedy. Maybe it’s wrong, especially because you don’t have an excuse to act like this, but you roll down into his cock, wanting him everywhere and for as long as you can get him. His thrusts are almost impossible to meet and his thickness catches at your opening, but you work diligently—determined to have him buried as deeply as he wants to go. The beskar of his chest trembles against your shoulders with a vibrating, noiseless moan.

“You—you pretty t-thing,” he breathes lowly against your mouth. You grab his knees for support and push down harder. “I’ve want—wanted this—w-wanted you f-for so—so long.” He bites your lower lip. His voice sounds delirious.

Maker, it’s ridiculous. You’re bouncing your pussy on his stiff cock like an animal in heat, but his words warm your chest more than your core. You know it’s probably the poison talking, but you indulge in it. You let your hand cradle his cheek and bring your lips sweetly against his, pretending you’re his lover and not just a vessel for his release. He gasps into the kiss.

It’s with your lips that he finally lets go. It happens midthrust, so his cum spurts out of you and dribbles down his cock. It smears on your folds and, surely, on the cloak beneath. Stars, you’re shaking. Your legs spasm with the promise of another orgasm that almost—almost happened. Still holding you, Mando pulls out, and the rest of his seed spills on wool and sand.

What now? If not the sweat and the fucking, then his release surely evacuated the venom by now. The Mandalorian pants behind you, just as spent and exhausted, and what the hell are you supposed to say to each other now? You squirm uncomfortably at the dilemma, and your slit accidentally drags against something upright beneath you. Mando winces at the contact.

Maker, is he still hard? How—?

Fingers dig into your arms and force you forward and away from him. You fall on top of the cloak, barely pillowing your fall with your forearms before you feel the Mandalorian turning you around to face him.

You lay open below him, ruined and confused in the darkness as to what he’s planning for you next. Your clit pulses with equal parts arousal and apprehension at the uncertainty, but it decides for the former when you feel him dip his fingers in your entrance and scoop his cum and yours. The sound of him pumping himself faster and faster is muffled by his moaning. It’s filthy gibberish: loose words of everything he’s dreamt about doing to you; of how he’s going to fuck you over and over again; of how you’re going to take every drop of him; of how good it’s going to be for you.

Four fingers land on your clit and work it wetly up and down. A whine escapes you and you’re so sensible it almost hurts and your head swims and he’s still talking but there’s something…something sincere about his words. Something that hides beneath the frantic movements against your bud that feels almost reverent. Like the snake’s toxin only lifted a veil, revealing the Mandalorian’s pent up lust and primal instincts below his layers of unyielding discipline.

“S-so, so fucking good for me, so—"

You cry out when your walls tighten around nothing with powerful contractions, deciding at some point of the frenzy that consumes you that you’ll take advantage of this queer land and the limbo its night has thrown both of you into. Deciding you’ll let the Mandalorian explore his more primitive urges and fuck you into tomorrow, whatever “tomorrow” may mean for your relationship with him.

The sound of him fucking his hand quickens and you hear it closer to your body. You can’t tell exactly where.

“I—I—gonna c-cum.” His voice tightens in his throat. “Where?”

“Everywhere,” you answer breathlessly, and you mean it.

[strawberries-and-creame]

What about if Dave's s/o found out how Bro treat's him and one day kicks his ass and moves Dave into their place?

It isn’t exactly as requested but I hope you enjoy anyways ^_^

You had began to notice the different sizes of bruises on his limbs. When he would stretch and his shirt would rise, you could see reddened and purplish bruises to ones that were faded into yellow, showing previous ones.

You’d see how tired he appeared when you visited. The bags that were dark and heavy despite his dark, slight opaque shades did little to hide it from others that were close to him.

It wasn’t until Dave had seemed more stressed out that usual that you’d decided to ask him.

“Dave, what’s bothering you?”

He posture stiffened. “What do you mean?”

You swished around the remaining apple juice in your bottle. “You seemed stressed lately?” You said in almost suggestion. Trying to pry but not out right say it. “You also look tired, more so than usual.”

Dave squirmed slightly in his seat next to you. “Nah babe, I’m cool. Just haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand and very forced smile. “How about we play some video games?”

You frowned. “Dave…”

____________

It what been a few days since that evening, and now your worry had rose to unhealthy amounts.

Dave had avoided you since that night, and barely replied to texts that you sent.

You looked down to your phone and with an firm grunt you texted him quickly.

‘Dave I’m coming over. Now.’

Your pace to the high rise apartment was quick. Your thoughts heavy as you keyed in the code to the buildings entrance.

He’s never like this. He’s usually the one to text first and constantly at that. Your chats could go into the early hours of the morning sometimes.

The elevator seemed to be moving in half time while your sneakered foot tapped impatiently.

Why was he avoiding you? Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should have left well enough alone.

You pressed the button to his floor.

“Please be okay…” you whispered to yourself, the doors opening and you almost sprinted out them before they could open all the way.

You came to Dave’s apartment door and saw that it was unlocked. You decided to knock nonetheless before entering.

“Hello? Dave…? Mr.Strider? It’s Y/N.”

There was not a single person besides you in the entire apartment. Well you plus the countless puppets of Dave’s brother but you tried not to make eye contact.

You could hear something coming from the floor above you. Rats? It would have to be big freaking ones. Metal? Rats with knives? No that couldn’t be what it was.

You decided to investigate since Dave was no where to be found inside his home. You walked through his room, trying your best to not trip over the various cables on the ground that was hooked up to sound equipment and turntable.

You came to his open window and heard the sound of metal clashing and quickened footsteps coming from above more clearly.

“It’s a stretch but maybe they’re on the roof?” You said to yourself, already sticking a leg out the window to the staircase platform inches from the window sill.

As you made your ascent you stomach felt uneasy. Maybe as if you wouldn’t like what you found when you made it to the final step.

A familiar voice piqued your attention.

“Can’t abscond, bro.”

Dave’s older brother? Can’t abscond from what exactly?

You lifted yourself up to the final step and had to fight the gasp from escaping your lips at the scene you found.

Dave was panting heavily, in one hand one of the swords he kept in his room, the other was grabbing onto his side. His face was twisted in a combination of pain, fear, and anger.

He looked like he was about to fall right where he stood, his knees struggling to hold his weight above them. Which said just how bad he was seeing as how he didn’t weigh much at all.

Dave gave a loud grunt, forcing himself to a battle stance before running at his Bro with a strained battle cry. He pivoted the sword to face his older sibling head on, but was grabbed by his shirt and flung the way he had came.

His body skidded across the cement floor and came to a stop against one of the many air conditioner units for the building.

Bro walked to him slowly, his own sword still drawn at his side. His presence menacing to both Dave and yourself.

Dave seemed to shrink in on himself, arms already out in front of him. He brought them where they covered his head and his torso. “Bro… please. Can’t we stop for today?”

Before you could tell your body differently, it was already moving. Your legs spurred your body forward, sprinting towards the brothers.

Your lungs filled with air as you shouted almost helplessly. “Stop!! Mr. Strider, please!”

The two looked towards you almost instantly. One being stoic behind his shades, the other alarmed.

“Y/N what are you doing her-“ Your boyfriend began, his tone making your chest tighten with just how scared it sounded.

Before he could finish you brought yourself between the two, placing your arms around him from behind you, your front facing his brother. Your chest was heaving from sprinting and the anxiety that welded up inside you from the intense stare Bro was giving you.

“Mr. Strider, I’m I mean-“ you tried but cursed your tongues insolence. “Please, I don’t know what’s going on but can’t you stop for… today? Dave seems really hurt right now, and it’s getting late.”

You felt Dave’s body tense from his place behind you. You moved your hand to where it held one of his and gave a firm squeeze.

“Please Mr. Strider?” You pleaded, looking into the dark chasm of his sunglasses. If you had to beg, so be it. If it meant that Dave wasn’t getting the shit beat out of him, you would grovel.

Bro paused for a moment before sheathing his blade back into its holder. “It is late.” He replied in a low tone, placing Lil Cal on his shoulders. “We’ll go ahead and call it a day, Dave. Try to be with it next time.” He said, his eyes making their sight on the male behind you.

He then turned toward you. “Y/N, feel free and make yourself at home. I take it you’re here to see him?”

How could he act like he didn’t just beat the ever loving fuck out of his little brother?

You nodded stiffly, trying to not show the shakiness through your body. “Yes.”

He gave a small nod and without another word he jumped off the side of the building, but you could hear him on the staircase below.

A few moments passed in silence before you felt your knees give out and you landed on them with a soft sound. Your heart was still racing and you could hear it in your ears with every quicken breath you took.

Your turned on your knees and face Dave who would not make eye contact with you.

His normal stoic expression was plastered back on his beaten up face. His cheek a gnarly colored purple with his lip busted and blood pooling from the wound.

You didn’t even want to think about the injuries that you couldn’t see.

Words escaped you. What could you possible say to make everything that just happened seem like it didn’t? He got beaten to a pulp, by his own guardian. The person that was supposed to protect him.

You could see Dave’s eyes moving to steal a glance at you through the sun hitting his glasses. The red pools of his orbs made tour e/c ones start to water.

They screamed helpless behind the still expression he wore almost all the time. You knew that this instilled stoicism wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t often that he showed emotions, he had gone so long without them from such a young age, it was hard for him to break down those learned behaviors.

You’d do it for him, you’d let down your walls first.

Your eyes began to flood with tears, making their color shimmer against the sun that was now setting beside you.

“Y/N?” He questioned softly, a frown forming on his face. He raised a hand to try and place on yours. “H-Hey it’s okay, this stuff is normal at my house. Bro beat my ass, that’s all there is to it. I keep telling him I don’t want to be a hero, but he just doesn’t listen sometimes. I just wasn’t with it today.”

You instead flung your arms around him, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. You let out a sob. “This isn’t normal! None… none of this is normal.”

You squeezed him to your harder. You hoped and prayed that he could feel just how much you loved and cared for him with just how snug your arms were keeping him pressed against you.

“Getting the shit beat out of you isn’t normal! Having bruises all over your body isn’t normal! No one should have to worry about getting a beat down by their own family.”

You felt his body stiffen against you again, his hands pulling at your shirt from behind in fistfuls.

You pushed his head to your shoulder, locking your fingers in his soft locks. Your chest wavered as sobs erupted from your core for him. Tears streaked down your cheeks and you cried.

Dave’s shoulders sagged and he dropped his head on your shoulder and let you cry. Silently he too wove his fingers through your hair and comfortably stroked through them.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry that you’re not safe. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you.” You chanted in between sobs into his shoulder.

You felt Dave let out a strained laugh, the bone crushing hug causing him some discomfort. “I’ll be okay. I promise, Y/N.”

Eventually you and him descended back into his room, and you helped bandage him up from his bed. A little uneven with some of the bandages, but it made you feel better that he was patched up.

He would be okay, because you decided from then on, that you would protect him. You would be his knight in shining armor if that’s what it took for him to be safe.

[dear-evanrosier]

Would you maybe do a favorite nightmare part 2…like continue it? Cause I freakin LOVED IT!!! I wanna know what Sirius does, I bet he would get Reggie outta that house faster than you could say expelliarmus, and also, James. What would he do, would he be like wtf lil Reggie black has a crush on me what do I do??? Or be like omg YAYYYYYY LIL REGGIE BLACK HAS A CRUSH ON ME! And then also what would Reggie do when he finds out the others know??? See, so many questions…so maybe a part 2…or 3….or more lol! But yeah, will there be more to it? (Hoping yes)

So I wasn't expecting anyone to ask for more, but i gladly wrote it

MASTERLIST

TW: mentions of child abuse

They were quiet as they walked up to the dorm, but the moment Sirius flopped onto his shared bed with Remus, the silence ended.

“That’s… a lot of information to get at once.” Peter started with, and then was shot a glare from Sirius.

“Hey, don’t attack me. I’m just saying.” Peter put his hands up in defense, flopping onto his bed. Sirius sighed and brought a hand up to his face, rubbing his temples. 

“Yeah, sorry Wormy. It’s just a lot to process. ‘m not trying to take it out on you.” 

“‘s okay.”

“So,” Remus said, sitting next to Sirius and carding his fingers through the black hair, “start with one thing at a time. What part first?”

“That boy. He said if I knew half of what Regulus did, I wouldn’t call him a coward. When did I call him a coward?” 

“Last week,” Remus answered, at the same time Peter said “Yesterday,” and James “This morning.”

Sirius sighed and moved his hand from his face, dropping it at his side. “Yeah, I do say it a lot. He deserves it.” 

“Does he?” 

The other three turned to face James, who looked embarrassed for the first time ever. 

“What do you mean, ‘does he’?! Of course, he does, James!” Sirius exclaimed, and James shrugged. 

“Why?” 

“Because he doesn’t have a brave bone in his body, that’s why! Why are you sticking up for him?” 

“Because no one else does. And you haven’t actually had a proper conversation with him that wasn’t you shouting and hexing each other in two years. How would you know anything that has happened in that time?”  

“I know he got the mark! Didn’t you notice how that boy avoided his left arm? Why else would he?!” 

“Didn’t you notice how you left him?” 

Sirius didn’t have a response, snapping his mouth shut and looking shocked. 

“James! That’s not-” 

“No, he’s right.” Sirius cut across Remus with a sigh, sitting up. “But I thought he’d be okay there. It’s not like he was really affected by what they did. He’d get up and walk away. He acted like it didn’t happen.” 

“So you’re saying that everything they’ve done to you, they did to him.” 

Sirius nodded at James and looked down.

“And you willingly left him there.” 

Sirius put his face in his hands, his words muffled. “I fucked up.” 

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you can’t fix it.” 

⨪⨪⨪⨪⨪⨪Days later⨪⨪⨪⨪⨪⨪

“This is a bad idea,” Remus whispered, but Sirius just shushed him and lead them further down the corridor, stopping at a door second from the end. A silver plaque read in black letters R. Black. 

“Not fair they each get their own rooms.” He mumbled, then pushed it open and led the others in, making sure the invisibility cloak stayed secure over them. Sirius took one look at the interior of the room and huffed, “This really isn’t fair.” 

The walls were a forest green, accentuated by a black bookshelf formed into the wall with drawers halfway up the wall. A desk of matching color sat next to the door. An open potions textbook, an inkwell, and a parchment half-filled with incredibly small writing sat on the desk. A double-sized bed opposite the desk, adorned with emerald green blankets and blacks pillows. A nightstand next to the bed matched the desk and bookshelf, holding a heavily annotated book and a few empty vials. The wall it sat against was glass, letting in the eerie pale green light from the lake. Another door at the foot of the bed was closed. “Wonder what’s through that door.” Sirius nodded to it, and Remus put a hand in front of his chest. 

“Probably just the bathroom. Besides, you’re not poking around your brother’s room. Why are we even here?” 

Sirius faltered. “I...I don’t know. I had a plan but I forgot it.” 

James sighed and looked as though he was about to respond, but hushed voices and hurried footsteps had him pulling the other two back into a far corner, keeping Wormtail from falling off his shoulder. 

Regulus and the Ravenclaw, Jacob, came in, shutting the door quickly behind them. 

“I’m going to murder Snape.” Regulus spat, sitting on his bed and wiping blood from a cut on his cheek. Jacob nodded and stood in front of him, leaning down to hold his chin. “That’s understandable. Just make sure you don’t get caught or you pin it as a suicide. Now, about this cut..” 

“I’ve got it.” Regulus waved his hand over his cheek, the cut disappearing. Jacob tsked and turned Regulus’s face to each side. “You’ve got to teach me that. Why’d you learn it anyway?” 

“Well I wasn’t going to lay on the floor and bleed out nightly, was I?” 

James caught Sirius grimacing for a moment. 

“Hm, fair enough.” 

He leaned down and kissed Regulus, who had no problem returning it. 

 James felt something pull at his chest. 

Jacob pulled away and pulled Regulus into a hug of sorts, his face pressed into Jacob’s chest. “Do you feel up to going to Slughorn’s thing tonight?” 

“Sure, but if Snape calls Evans that again I may actually kill him.” 

“Again, understandable. But you were only able to hex him this time because he also insulted you.” 

“I’ll hex him when I want, image be damned. He’s too much like my mother for me to care.” 

Regulus stood up, kissed Jacob’s cheek, and walked to the drawers, pulling out a jumper. “Are you wearing your robes or are you stealing my clothes? Tell me before I go too domestic like my broth- like Sirius.” 

“You can call him your brother.” 

“No. He’s made it clear I’m not. Why waste my time trying to convince someone to want me. I’ve survived the last two years without him, I don’t need him.” 

“I never said you did,” Jacob replied quietly. 

Regulus tensed for a moment, sighing. “Are you wearing my shirt?” 

Jacob sat on the bed, leaning back on his hands. “Yeah, any band ones? I know you stole that one from Andr- your cousin.” 

“You can say her name. I don’t care she abandoned me too, it was only a matter of time before it happened. And yes, I have a few. Uh, Led Zeplin? Does that work?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” 

Regulus pulled it out and tossed it towards him, then took his robes off and setting them on the bed. 

“Is he not changing in the bathroom?” James whispered, and Remus shrugged. 

“They’re together, I don’t see why he would.” 

 Regulus stopped loosening his tie and stiffened, standing straight up. Jacob paused unclasping his robes and looked at Regulus oddly. "You ok?”

Regulus nodded and continued, throwing his tie on his robes and starting on the buttons of his shirt. "Fine, just thought I heard something. It's nothing." 

Jacob nodded slowly and took his one robe off, beginning on his own tie. 

Sirius, in a turn of the normal, silently scolded the two, then gasped loudly when he caught a glimpse of Regulus shirtless back. 

Tourjus Pur was scrawled into him, between his shoulder blades, in his mothers handwriting. 

"Accio cloak." 

Their cover blown, Sirius looked up at his younger brother, who's face showed a mix of embarrassment and anger. He had his cloak in one hand, the shirt he had just removed in the other. 

"What the fuck are you doing in my dorm?!"

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

Cil and Von pls???

Funny enough, that's what @bi-julius-caesar wanted for their birthday! The exact prompt they asked for was 'Von humiliating Cil in front of Kohga and Sooga and Cil tries to hate fuck him but ends up getting fucked instead'. So, hope both of ya'll like it!

"With pleasure, Master Kohga."

Kohga loved having beefcakes to do what he said. And Cil was one of the many who were eager to obey. Like a show pony, he was eager to perform. In this case, he insisted on having him go head to head with Sooga. Not with weapons, but with their bodies, and bodies alone. Master Kohga was frisky today, it seemed. He watched angrily as Kohga held Sooga’s face, cooing in such a sugary sweet voice. The words fell on deaf words, lost in his frustration. Then he looked at him, and made a 'come here' motion with his finger. Cil damn near skipped over, but kept his proper form.

"I don't want you to go easy on him, understand? He needs to earn his prize."

"Understood. But pray tell, what IS the prize?"

Kohga thought about it for a second, before Cil saw that smirk of his (well not really SAW, but he felt it).

"Tell you what. Winner gets a kiss."

"...any kiss?"

"Eh what the hell, why not? Sure."

Oh he was going to murder him. Cil nodded, holding onto Kohga’s hand in his own, as a sign of respect.

"It shall be done, my Master. He will have to pry this trophy from my cold, lifeless corpse."

And he meant it. He doubt Kohga would let their match get that far, but if it came down to it, he absolutely would. Anything for that kiss he needed oh so badly. For that kiss he deserved. He stepped in front of Sooga, and drew his blade. He double checked his hair in the reflection of the blade, before digging it into the floor. Sooga followed suit, both blades wedging into the wooden floors.

"I appreciate your seriousness, Cil. You and I both know that we strive to please our Master."

"Of course. He deserves nothing but the best. As in, me."

Sooga huffed. Good, he was getting under his skin. Cil stretched for a moment (maybe showing off a bit for Kohga), making sure his body was ready. Sooga followed suit, before nodding. He was ready.

"You recall the rules."

"No weapons, no yiga special techniques. Just our body's strength, and our wits. And of course, mask stays on. On our Master's mark, if he may grace us."

Kohga loved this part, they could tell. He was about to start, when Von joined him, clearly excited.

"Aye my BOYS! Master Kohga, I can watch right?"

"Long as you don't interfere again."

"Oh. Right. Sorry. Shutting up right after this-good luck guys!"

He gave them a thumbs up, and Cil rolled his eyes. Ugh. Ever supportive, Von was. Kohga helped himself to a drink, before sitting up in his chair.

"On three. One. Two. Three!"

Cil was so motivated by the idea of getting his prize, he leapt for it first, bringing his fist down right into Sooga’s chest. Sooga got pushed back a bit, but didn't hesitate to grab Cil's arm, yanking him into a nasty headbutt. It was a cheap move, unlike him honestly. It was weird, until he heard Kohga holler behind them. It was a show for their master, not effiencity. Oh the cheek. He felt himself snarl at such a cheap trick.

"Oh you kiss ass!"

"You're just upset that he prefers looking at me."

Cil grit his teeth, before he dove for him in essentially a tackle. These little sprawling sessions were really just 'beat the shit out of someone until they're either unresponsive, or quit'. So tackling, although it was a bit barbaric, was pretty acceptable. Given how loud Von swore, it was quite a spectacle as well. He kept himself on top of him, starting to bring his fists down onto him. He aimed for his chest, his shoulders, even his head. Sooga kept trying to block, and Cil was happy he did.

"That's it, give me more of you to hurt!"

He wanted to bruise him. Wanted to walk away from this in absolute shame. Like a wounded street dog. He clasped his hands together, about to bring the combined force of his fists, when he was suddenly forced onto his back. Sooga had damn strong legs, and he often used them to his advantage.

"Your fury shall be the end of you, Cil."

He grabbed him by his head, about to slam it onto the floor, when he was interrupted by a very loud, VERY annoying Von.

"COME O N CIL, YOU GOT THIS BUDDY!"

It was annoying, and just the distraction he needed. He brought his fist up to his stomach, giving him just enough time to squirm out of his grasp. He managed to get Sooga’s head in his arms, in a headlock if you will. Sooga squirmed so adorably, he could pop his head like a cherry.

"That's it. Thrash. I'll crush your head like a fucking egg. I could watch the blood trickle down your ears as I make your brain mush. Or you could give up, and I could claim my prize. The one I d-"

He didn't get to finish. See, there was an issue with Von being both of their friends. He never picked a side, and always wanted things to be even. So, of course, it was his turn to help Sooga.

"SOOGA PULL HIS HAIR."

"NO WAIT-"

Too late. Sooga had reached up, dug his fingers into his hair, and pulled. It undid all the hard work it took to get it looking so pretty, and it made Cil moan. Loudly. He had just pulled it so hard, his blood was already pumping- it just happened. The cheers from everyone watching suddenly became a confused silence, and Cil hated that when he looked down, Sooga was obviously very uncomfortable. Cil let go of him, and turned to look at Von. Good. He knew he was in more shit than a horse stable.

He walked away, grabbing his blade on the way out. A foot soldier, their little referee, cocked his head to the side.

"Is this a forfeit?"

"...yes. Unfortunately, I yield."

He tucked his sword away, and as he walked out of the arena, and grabbed Von by his shoulder. Once they were out of the ring, and into Cil's room, Von FINALLY started to panic, hands up in defense.

"Cil don't be mad I didn't think you were gonna-"

"You made him ruin my hair. You made him humiliate me in public,"

Cil stepped towards him, slowly, and Von stepped back, clearly trying to get away from him. He made it a good distance away, before his back was against a wall. Cil put his hand up, keeping Von trapped. He wasn't going anywhere, they both knew it.

"You made everyone realize WE do things together. You made me come off as some sort of whore. You not only brought shame to me and me and our Master, but you made me LOSE. I deserved that prize. But thanks to you, I lost. LOOK AT ME."

Cil grabbed him by his throat, and listening to his choked up words of protest were music to his ears.

"I'm going to make you regret having a voice. I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to use you until I decide I'm not fucking mad at you anymore."

He threw Von onto his bed, crawled on top of him, and just when he was about to peel those clothes off, Von coiled some of his hair in his hand, and pulled. Like a a horse, he turned docile under his hand, suddenly not feeling so angry. Von laughed, pushing their masks aside, just enough to reveal their mouths. Never enough for their faces.

"Aye...so angry and so bitter, buddy. Easy does it. I know how you get when you don't get what you want. Come here. I'll give you a kiss."

Was it Kohga? Absolutely not. But after getting all riled up from a fight, he'd take it. He pressed his lips against his, swearing under his breath. Him and and Von have had a few...choice encounters, so this wasn't new. But Cil still hated it. There was still that shame, that bitter taste of defeat, not getting who he wanted. And Von knew it. It was silent, yet obvious. Yet, Von acted as if that awkwardness didn't exist. Cil sighed. He was still angry, but his cock was taking away some of that stress.

"You're a pest. And I'm still angry."

"You're always angry. Now come on, clothes off."

He waited till Von let go of his hair, before he sat up, removing everything but his mask. Von gave a loud, headache inducing whistle.

"Dunno why you had to strip, you could've just flexed this off, god damn."

Cil was about to insult him for such mindless flattery, when Von held his cock in his fingers. He toyed with the tip with his thumb, watching as Cil melted on top of him. Cil huffed in his face, annoyed still.

"You shouldn't make me feel good. But you know what I need."

"I've known a few cocks, my guy, they more or less need the same thing. But yours is the cutest!"

"Not this again..."

Cil smacked his mask with his hand, groaning. Von laughed, clearly finding it funny.

"I'm sorry but it's such a cute lil cock! It's like a wittle itty bitty carrot! You know how sometimes it doesn't grow right but you love it anyway because its special?"

"I'm going to kill you. I'm going to hang your corpse on-"

He was silenced when Von scooted down, and put his cock past his lips. He stiffened up for a minute, before relaxing, digging his fingers through Von's mop of hair.

"Ugh. So messy. Your stupid hair. You should let me fix it properly. If I have to hold it while I use your mouth, it should at least not look sloppy."

"Aw, is that a date?"

Von looked up at him; kissing at his tip. Cil scoffed, pushing himself back into his mouth. Much better use of his lips than the constant smart mouth.

"It isn't. It's a standard that I want...met."

He could tell Von knew. He was already getting close. That's what fighting did to a true yiga. Made them aroused, eager for more. Von peeled away, watching as the little cock ached for more.

"Well I want MY dick to meet that ass, so on your front, princess."

"I grow weary of that nickname."

He complied however, trading Von spots. He laid on his stomach, letting Von apread his ass, and rub his thumb over his asshole.

"But you're SUCH a pillow princess! You lay there, pushing against me and waiting for me to help you cum. And you look pretty too. Nice hair, a damn nice back. You take care of yourself, I REALLY can't believe you don't get fucked more often. Think its the attitude. But I like it."

Cil grabbed onto one of the pillows, tensing once Von dragged his tongue against his asshole.

"Don't....say that while you're doing such things. It's...v...vile."

It was gross. He kissed the same lips that kissed his asshole, and he loved it. Von's tongue moved in little circles, drool cascading down and meeting his aching cock. Von chuckled, pulling away after a second.

"You just mad because it's not Kohga saying it. Ease up big guy, you're gonna get what's comin' to you."

He was about to bark at him, recalling why he was mad to begin with, when he felt goosebumps at his skin. Right. Von was...well equipped, unlike himself. It felt good grinding against him.

"Just...ugh. Be silent and put it in already."

"Such a grumpy wumpykins. Fine."

He leaned down to kiss his jaw, before he adjusted his clothes, and pressed his bare cock against his ass. Cil tried not to, but he found himself pressing against against him, body needing SOMEONE to touch him.

"You remember the rule."

"Right right, finish on the ass, not inside, and tell you so you act like you don't like it- I know I know."

Cil didn't want to admit that he wanted him to just fuck him already. But thankfully, Von let him get away with that one, and pushed his cock inside his ass. He held him still, as his size was STILL a bit much for him. He groaned as his body tried to accommodate, trying not to tear open the pillow in his hands.

"SLOWLY, you fucking moblin."

"This IS slow, you just don't get fucked enough to be used to it."

He was going to back talk further, when Von grabbed some more of his hair, giving it a gentle pull as he started to slowly roll into his ass.

"I...oooh...mmmph."

He hated the sounds he made when he felt stuffed. But it felt so...good. Von chuckled, hand roaming from his hip, up his back.

"That's it. You've got no dick, and ass is pancake flat, but when you finally get tamed...damn you sound so pretty. You like it when you get a good stretch, eh?"

"I DESERVE a cock. The fact that it's yours is unfortunate."

"Sharp tongue for a man with a thick dick in his ass. Lemme taste it."

He laid on him again, pressing his lips against his, and letting his tongue roam over his. Von knew he hated kissing so much, but this time he was grateful, as it helped keep his moans muffled, if only slightly. They sat there for a moment, sweat glistening off their bodies and swears filling the air. Then Von started to move properly. He started to buck his hips into his, balls smacking against his own as their hips bucked together.

"Shit Von...You’re throbbing inside of me. It's shameful."

"Funny way of saying you really like my dick. It's fine, I like this ass of yours. Looks good when you're taking it. Don't think I've fucked someone so big and delicate."

"I'm NOT deli-"

He was cut off when Von yanked his hair, starting to pound into his ass.

"Not delicate? Look at you fumblin' over yourself as I fuck that ass like a toy. My cute, baby dicked princess~"

He couldn’t even scold him. His vision was too hazy, his mouth was too busy biting into the pillow. It felt just. So good, letting this man use him to please his cock.

"I'm gonna fucking cum. I'm gonna bust a FAT fucking nut because of you. Come on, let's see what kinda load those little balls of yours can give me."

Cil was the first to cum, whining loudly once he finally hit that peak. He sat there in his mess of sweat and cum, before Von joined him. He pulled his pretty hair, pulling out just in time to cum on his ass, and on his back. Von still kept moving, albeit much slower, snearing his thick cream in between his cheeks. Von grumbled against his sudden mouth full of feathers.

"They're...not small."

"Size of chickaloo tree nuts. But I love 'em anyway, princess."

Von finally got off of him, laying right next to him. Cil sat there, trying to recover. He silently listened as Von lit up one of his cigarettes, helping himself to a nice smoke, blowing rings into the air. Cil inhaled, before slowly exhaling.

"Why I insist on entertaining you, I have no clue."

"Because I got a fat dick. And I'm funny as hell."

"Funny looking, you mean."

Cil didn't move as he shifted his gaze to meet his. Von grinned, taking another puff, before leaning over and smacking his ass. Least, what was supposed to be his ass.

"Ha! After all this time, my guy still got jokes! I love it! Good to see I took a...load off."

"Stop."

"Even though it was very HARD."

"VON."

Von grinned like the idiot he was. Cil hated to admit it to himself but...well. he did get the gold medal, but silver was just as good. For now.

[toukenramblings]

Dating: Azuki Nagamitsu, Doudanuki Masakuni, Yamabushi Kunihiro

@areyousurprised​

You are indeed right sweetie, these three are indeed underrated and I had soooo much fun writing em! I hope you enjoy em sweetie~!!!

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Azuki Nagamitsu

Azuki is, by no doubt, a very caring young man. He is a dad figure of the citadel and this extends to you as well, his dear master. Even when you have first smithed him, he is there ready to bake you something sweet to enjoy or even make you tea. The perfect husband.

It honestly begins rather simple, perhaps the relationship between you two is already borderline on marriage anyway. You tend to his wounds and help him cook, he cooks for you and is also a shoulder for you to lean on. It’s a gentle circle of love.

Perhaps everyone around you assumes that you lot are already dating so when one of the lil tantous asks if you two are really a couple…he has to stop and think about it for like fifteen seconds before flushing, turning his face away as the realization settles into his mind. Are you two dating???????

 Azuki begins to test the waters when he realizes he has a crush on you. Yes he already makes your favorite treats a lot, but he will do it more just to see that smile on your lips. Sometimes his hands will brush against yours when he’s handing the article of yumminess to you and it sends tingles down his spine. He doesn’t really avoid you, more so along the lines of trying to get closer and closer, just to gauge your reactions to see if you like him back.

At this point, you’ll never confess and it’s up to some tantou or other Osafune swords to scream, “JUST KISS ALREADY” while you two are chatting and eating on some kinda snacky. That, or lock you two into a room and not let you two out until you confess. It’s probably midare, he is an agent of chaos

To be honest, Azuki’s confession is lowkey a marriage proposal.

“I want to always see you smile, master, the way your eyes light up whenever I cook for you, it’s the most beautiful thing. I…I understand if you do not want to return my feelings, but please take your time to answer me. I will wait for you.”

 Now how could you ever turn him down?

 Azuki is a gentleman at heart, calling you his sweetheart or other delicacy related petnames. He adores hand kisses, will do so as he hands you something sweet. Along with cheek kisses, holy cow does he love them.

Speaking of PDA, I feel like Azuki does it at his own pace. If you even try to initiate it, he dies on the inside and his cheeks are this super cute pink; but then he wraps his hand around yours and squeezes it and man does it feel gOOD. If he initiates it, it’s mostly hand kisses, hand holding, or a simple peck on the cheek. The other stuff comes later, the kids are watching!

 Speaking of the said tantous, they will find it cute that you do PDA but then there’s like others who are like: “EW GROSS” or “GET A ROOM” most likely Tsurumaru who screams the latter.

 That being said, sooner or later, the tantous will start calling you whatever parental title you prefer along with calling Azuki ‘dad’. Azuki isn’t crying, he swears.

Call him your little red bean, he will die, it will be the most amazing thing.

 Breakfast in bed? Breakfast in bed. All day, every day. You are never going to go hungry with him around. Sure he’s more of a baker than a chef like Shokudaikiri or Kasen but he will learn from them without a doubt. Start making regular dentist appointments though, he’s gonna load you up with sugar and sweets.

He’s also the kind of person who has candy on his person – to either give out to the little ones or you if you need a snack! He also carries an aid-kit, he’s just super prepared.

Will love it if you two cook together! Maybe get into a little food fight? Who knows.

Azuki is somewhat of a morning person, around you when you two are sleeping together? Oh man, he turns into putty. Sometimes he won’t want to wake up because you are so warm! But he will wake up on his own in the end, he does want to make you something to eat after all!

 Matching aprons? Matching aprons.

 The relationship you two have is almost marriage material, what every couple aspires to attain. You begin the day together and end it together on your own terms. All you two have to do now is to tie the knot.

 Doudanuki Masakuni

·Doudanuki doesn’t really keep you at a distance per say? It’s respectable kind of distance, like a boss and an employee. He is a sword and he knows that he is here to be your blade, to cut down your enemies without hesitation. There is no doubt that he will protect you, and wants to be of use to you.

  In fact, he doesn’t even realize the feelings he has for you are romantic in nature. You come around to watch him train yes, but most likely he won’t even notice that you are present unless he stops or you make yourself known. Hell, sometimes he’ll train you as well! Swordplay, how to throw a punch, sparring, anything man! But as time goes on, he will look forward to your little lessons together. It brings a small smile to his face whenever you appear at the edge of the door of the sparring hall, ready to face him yet again.

   It has to be someone who has to tell him that he likes you. This will cause him to pause almost in horror at the thought, needing to go have some time to himself to think. That is when your daily lessons and training will stop for a while; he reschedules them or downright cancels them, making some kind of excuse. He doesn’t know how to deal with these emotions and the other swords had seen him pummel a punching bag until it was broken while he was in deep thought.

 It’s not that he doesn’t want the emotions; Doudanuki doesn’t know how to feel about it. He is a weapon, not a piece of art. He lives to serve and to kill, why would you want to have a relationship with him?

Again, it’s probably someone midare or tsurumaru who needs to help. The distance between you two is unbearable and thus, you two are locked in a room. Doudanuki offers to destroy the door but it’s a good time for you to talk to him. He panics on the inside as you two sit in silence for a while before trying to speak.

“Look…I don’t what to do with these…emotions. It hurts whenever I’m around you, like I never want to let you go. It’s just…how do I say it…what do the others call it? Love?”

Hug him, immediately. He will melt into your embrace.

When you two become an official couple, daily morning training sessions are still a common thing. Except this time, Doudanuki is a lil bit more affectionate than before. Yes he smiles more, and sure he does help position your body with touches – but it feels much more…hm, wholesome now that your feelings are known to each other. You almost melt into his touch and he has to jokingly remind you that you two are training, cuddles can come later.

 Doudanuki isn’t much into PDA, he feels a bit embarrassed by it. Again, he isn’t used to such affection and the least he will do in public is hold your hand in a loose grip – squeezing it every now and then – not because he doesn’t like you or anything, it’s because you two are going at a relationship at your own pace. In private? Cuddles are common. Again, loose grips in case you are uncomfy and want to move or body or something – but there are times when his bear hugs are just the thing you want and need.

He gives amazing massages and knows every inch of your muscles like the back of his hand – whether or not you two are truly intimate in a sexual sense. He knows how tense they can get so if he notices that you are hunched over your desk and your shoulders are tight, expect him to make himself known with a small, “I’m going to touch you, okay?” and then place his rough hands on your shoulders, smoothing out each and every kink you have.

If you massage him in turn, Doudanuki will turn into mush, leaning against you and almost purring.

 Big spoon? Little spoon? Who cares? As long as he can hold you, he’s happy.

 If he ever comes back all bloodied and bruised and you always take care of him with the most fond of care, there is a light blush to his cheeks as he leans into your touches. It’s super cute.

  Also super dense, cannot understand how flirting works but easy to make blush if you manage to do so!

  Over all, the relationship between you two is slow and patient, not at all in a rush to reach any kind of goal. It’s simple, awkward, full of ups and downs, but it’s a sweet one none the less.

 Yamabushi Kunihiro

 Bear hugs? Bear hugs. No matter if you two are dating or not, hugs all around. He will shout your name from across the yard and wave to you, and when he comes back from a sortie and isn’t too injured, he will find you and hug you! He’s just very affectionate!

Most often found in the mountains, probably running around and training but if you decide to come with him, he would be more than happy! He shows you around, tells you about nature and its gifts, and it’s more so of a hike than anything. Sure he may get ahead of you with his long ass legs and walk cycle, but he always waits for you to catch up. Or carry you if you ask. No hesitation there.

But when he starts falling for you, Yamabushi goes off to meditate on it a little bit. He will avoid you and ask that you do not disturb him during that time but it takes him at least a couple of hours before he settles on an answer. He meditates a lot whenever he has time to think, probably under a waterfall. In the end, he accepts those feelings of romance. He takes everything in stride after all.

After this meditation session, expect him to immediately go out to seek you and your attention. He may not confess right away, but simply become much more affectionate around you. But then again, he always is. Yamabushi’s hugs are softer, tighter, and he invites you out to the hikes much more often.

His confession will come outta nowhere, during a hike, enjoying the fresh air. Maybe it was the sunshine illuminating your form, but Yamabushi will suddenly speak.

“As gorgeous as ever, master! Kakaka! I wish I could forever capture your ethereal form!!”

 You would think that he would want a camera but no, after explaining what he meant and his confession is something oh so earnest. He spills out his love for you in such a happy nonchalant manner you would think he was joking. But the minute you share his feelings, his eyes light up like a puppy and he screams into the mountain air that he is the happiest man alive.

Yeah don’t think that the physical affection doesn’t go away. You’re gonna be drowning in it, fam. Yamabushi lives for PDA. Random hugs outta nowhere, picking you up and spinning you around when you least expect it, cheek kisses, lips kisses; all of the works!

  Cuddles are mandatory. That is it. You cannot escape cuddle time.

   Very much a morning person. If he wakes up before you, Yamabushi will do his best to keep quiet and not wake you up. Instead, he might just lay there, watching you and how the sunlight hits your face. It’s there when he just…melts. Yamabushi falls almost into a lull state, enjoying your warmth and presence.

 But if you two are indeed morning people, expect to be lying in bed for a while. Yamabushi cannot help but gaze upon your form. Then it’s time to get up and go into the mountains for training and hiking!

  He tends to laugh at his sorrows and that is all fine and dandy, but he will lean on you for troubles from time to time. He will also do the same for you, his advice is sweet and sometimes it may not help but he is trying his best!

  The relationship between you two is rather seamless, passing from friendship to romantic; the barrier between those words was already thin, and it just took a little bit to tear it down. It’s a comfortable, rambunctious, and overall, full of affection.