#and im adjusting how i have the mess underneath sitting too as needed

[izzy-b-hands]

turns out you can cannibalize a pair of tomboyx trunk underwear to make a not half bad but still comfortable binder

it doesn't get me quite flat, but a lot better. but also the material is comfy (so much more compared to my actual binders), and while it looks v ugly lmao, for this first one I did most of the fabric cutting after I had the one leg I was going to use already trimmed off from the rest of the pair.

That meant I could cut and adjust as needed when it was too tight (made myself cough and take deep breaths as I went, until I could do so comfortably but hadn't lost the compression I wanted, tho that could easily have gone the other way and lost it all lol.) There are some edges on the sides and back that are a lil too loose, but tucking them into the main band resolves that mostly.

I'd like to actually use another old pair to double layer this one, plus then i could trim up those edges and see if I want to go with my two options for wearing after this:

1. Trim but don't sew edges to hem: Means it could stay a pull on from my feet thing, but it'll def fray faster and ultimately have a shorter lifespan (aka be cut up more, cleaned and doubled, then sewn up as thin washclothes.) It's less work over all, but the reward seems p temporary.

2. Cut side open, create spots for stays/something similar, use leftover fabric to create those: More work, and I'd have to rethread and tie up properly every time i wear it. Risks losing compression too, because the material has elastic in it that'll eventually tire out on me anyway. Cutting the side might just be a shortcut to that tbh. But, with things more sewn up and reinforced, might reduce wear and tear and give it a little more time before being pulled out of my closet.

It's an at home/undergarment still mostly, but it would also be cute in the summer as a faux crop top/tube top thing (what it would be if made from a less elastic material like these trunks, I think. But I don't sew/create clothes so idk, I just cannibalize my old shit so I can avoid buying new stuff that ultimately won't work for me, aka all my old binders.)

I'm not sure either of the above options would look good enough for that though 😬

More importantly, I need to see if this even is long term comfortable for me or if I need to redesign completely

#text post #been wearing it while typing this and i don't feel bad or anything #i can take deep breaths and cough deeply easily #just feel a lil pinch like with some other binders #and im adjusting how i have the mess underneath sitting too as needed #this is v imperfect but it worked in the pinch im in today lol #tw dysphoria #tw binding

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sparkling juice

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, dubcon, drugging/tricking reader into drinking, established relationship, innocent/shy!reader (at least at first wink wink), kinda dark!rafe but really he just wants to bang reader reaaaaal bad

“this is so sweet, rafey.” you coo, your hand held firmly in his.

“anything for you baby.” rafe pulls you along the path, further out into the meadow until you get to a shaded area under a tall tree.

“here is perfect.” rafe says, setting the picnic basket down and draping the large blanket he brought with him.

“thank you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before sitting down.

“i brought all your favorites.” rafe says, taking a spot next to you and opening up the picnic basket.

you let out a little squeak in excitement and seeing all your favorite foods before your brows scrunch together as you point at a bottle. “what's that?”

“that's um… sparkling juice. that's all, baby.” of course, rafe knows that's not all it is, but you don't need to know that yet.

rafe pulls out some food for you to snack on, not hungry himself, happy to watch you nibble on crackers and bite into juicy strawberries.

“wanna try some juice with me baby?”

“mhm, of course rafey.” you watch his large hands as he fills two plastic cups, handing one to you. “drink slow.”

you nod in response before taking a sip, pulling away and sputtering. “ew!”

“oh, baby.” rafe pouts. “do you not like it? im so sorry i thought you would.”

“let me… let me try to drink it again. i think im just not used to the carbonation.” you take another sip, able to control your reaction better. “it's not bad!” rafe can tell you're lying, but he lets out a fake sigh of relief and smiles at you.

“so glad, baby. we can keep drinking while we talk, yeah? tell me about your day.”

rafe knows the easiest way to get you distracted is to have you talk, and so as you describe your day, which leads into your plans for next week, which leads into how much you love rafe, you keep taking sips as rafe refills just your cup.

“i… my head feels kinda fuzzy.” you frown, setting the drink down, realizing your fingers are also slightly numb.

“uh oh.” rafe pouts, drawing his thumb over your cheek. “maybe it's the heat. why don't you lay down?”

“yeah.” you nod, laying back onto the blanket, surprised how plush it is from the soft long grass underneath it. “im-” you let out a sudden giggle. “im like really in love with you, rafey.”

“im really in love with you too, kiddo.” rafe adjusts himself to lay next to you, propped up on his side to keep an eye on your reaction as the alcohol you didn't know you were drinking slowly takes effect. “that's why i planned out this whole picnic for you. and brought you special juice.”

“was there-” you hiccup, words slurring slightly. “anything special in the special juice?”

“hm.” rafe sits up, picking up the now half empty bottle. his eyes widen in fake shock as he reads the label. “oh no baby! i must have grabbed the wrong bottle! i meant to get us sparkling juice but i got us sparkling wine!”

“im… im drunk?” you put together what rafes words mean, mind working slowly.

“im so sorry.” rafe moves to hover over you, cupping your cheek. “will you forgive me?”

“course.” you nod quickly. “was an accident.”

“you're so sweet baby.” rafe brings his lips down on top of yours, kissing you wildly, mouths and tongues a passionate mess.

“should we go get some water to help… get rid of this feeling?” you ask rafe as he shifts to kissing your jaw.

“that's so smart, baby, but i can't drive us home drunk, and you don't have your license.” 

you knew how to drive well enough, but in your 20 years of life, never felt the need to actually get your license. your parents drove you around as a kid until you started dating rafe a year ago, and then he drove you around everywhere.

“oh, right.” you nod, letting out a small gasp as rafes kisses move lower, exploring your neck. this is where you usually stop him, pull his head back up to kiss your lips and remind him you want to wait. not necessarily until marriage, but a bit longer, until the time is right.

“we should do something to pass the time, baby. until the alcohol is out of our system.”

“doesn't eating help?” you try to remember what you heard your friends talk about, since you're not a drinker yourself. “we could share the rest of the crackers.”

“i was thinking… we could finally make love.” rafe suggests, pulling back to look in your eyes, watching the way your brain is fighting against the alcohol in your system.

“well, you did take me on this nice picnic…”

“mhm.”

“and we have been dating for over a year now.”

“yes.”

“so… i suppose we could.” you shove down any doubting voices in your head, letting the looseness of your inhibitions guide your actions as you lean forward to kiss rafe again.

“thank you baby.” rafe repeats his words between kisses, his weight shifting to his elbow as his other hand holds your waist, before moving up until it's cupping your breast.

“oh!” you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. rafe smiles, tugging at your dress until the material is below your bra, pushing your breasts up.

“what if someone sees?!” you hiss out. it's not likely someone would come by, but rafe doesn't want to ruin his chance to finally have you.

“okay.” he pulls your dress back up, settling for touching you over the material as he distracts you with soft kisses once again. “ill just push your dress up. that way if anyone comes by you can easily cover yourself up.”

“mhm.” you nod, eyes sliding shut, head fuzzy from the alcohol and now from the pleasure building in your system.

rafe reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants, leaving himself mostly covered as well. he begins to slowly stroke himself, already halfway hard just from the excitement.

“oh!” rafe hadn't even realize your eyes had opened up until your outburst.

“it's okay, baby.” rafe says. he's well aware this is your first time seeing his cock as he waits for you to form a reaction.

“i… i want to feel.” you reach down, cautious hand, still numb at the fingertips as you stroke over rafes length, eyes widening when you realize how hard it truly feels..

“can you… can you not look?” you ask shyly, hand still slowly moving as you speak. “at me.”

“baby, you know i find you beautiful. all of you… but if that's what you want, okay.” 

“just… look away for a minute.” you wait for rafes gaze to turn to the meadow, watching the flowers sway in the breeze as he hears you shuffling around on the blanket to take your underwear off.

“okay.” you say.

rafe looks back to you, smile growing as he realizes you're laid back down once again, dress pushed up to your thighs, just enough to hide your privates.

“ill be nice and slow, okay? and you tell me if anything hurts.” rafe moves over you, waiting for you to nod before reaching down with one hand to grab his cock. he keeps your skirt as far down as he can while tucking his dick between your thighs. he moves until he bumps skin, letting out a breath when he realizes you are wet.

he rubs his cock through your folds, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, brows pulling together and mouth dropping open.

you let out a moan when rafe hits what he assumes is your clit. he focuses the head of his cock on it for a moment before sinking lower to your entrance.

rafe manages to keep his word, pushing in slowly. he may have been buttering you up for an entire year just to get in your pants, but now he wants more than just once, you're well and truly his, and he plans on exploring with you until you're transformed from innocent girlfriend into personal slut.

“oh! oh, rafe!” your hands move to grip his shoulders. “that… that feels really good!”

“doesn't hurt at all?” rafe can tell he's stretching you somewhat, but clearly by your rapid shaking of your head no, you're not feeling any pain.

“gonna f-make love to you now then.” he swings his hips back before pushing forward, and soon your moans are filling the meadow, being carried away by the wind as he thrusts into you.

“so, so good, rafey.” you cry out, back arching off the picnic blanket. rafe smiles. your first time, and you're already behaving like this. he's going to turn you into a whore sooner than he thought.

“fu-fudge!” you shout out, making rafe chuckle softly as you use your curse word substitute just like you prefer doing.

“you feel so good round me, baby.” rafe says, bending down to kiss your neck. “love the way you're squeezing me.”

“harder.” you whine out. rafes eyebrows raise, but he doesn't question your demand, pushing his hips faster, slamming into you more. your dress pushed up from all the motion to reveal rafes cock burying itself inside your pussy.

he lets out a moan as you grip onto the blanket, not caring about him being able to see you as you feel a high building inside of you.

“i think im close.” you say.

“cum for me baby. ill cum with you.” rafe says, bringing a hand down to your clit, your moans doubling as he rubs over it with his thumb.

your high hits you suddenly. it takes a perfect thrust from rafe a long with his thumb flicking over your clit and your wall breaks with a scream, hips rising off the checkered fabric as you cum, pussy clenching around rafe as he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.

you both collapse in a heap, faces flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly.

rafe pulls out of you carefully before flopping onto his back.

“that was really good, rafey.” you cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“thank you for trusting me enough to do that with me, baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“of course.” your eyes are on rafes cock, still halfway hard despite just cumming. you reach down, ghosting your fingers along his length before swirling your fingertip over the head then against his slit as rafes hips twitch from the overstimulation.

“do you think we can do that again? and then maybe when we get home? after you're good to drive, of course.” you look up at rafe with what he thought were big, innocent eyes, but he's quickly realizing you've got a different side just below the surface.

-- six months later --

“ugh, rafe!” you groan as he presses buttons on the controller, eyes firmly on the screen. 

“promise baby, will be done in five minutes.” he says, barely glancing to you.

you're tired of being ignored as you pull off the only clothing you are wearing, a big t-shirt of rafes to cover yourself. rafe glances over, realizing you're now completely nude as his fingers freeze.

“i want to fuck. if you're not gonna help me, im gonna go help myself.” you shrug.

rafe tosses the controller onto the floor, a proud smile on his face. you've become just who he's always wanted you to be. “of course im gonna help you baby, come get on this dick.”

#i wrote this on my phone so there are probably a lot of mistakes #sorry! #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x oc #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe imagine #rafe one shot #rafe blurb #rafe drabble #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron blurb

[veampa]

Matt (somnophillia)

Afab genitalia

Genre- smut-oneshot

Character(s)- Mail jeevas (death note)

ALSOOOO THIS SUCKS BECAUSE IM NOT USED TO WRITING STUFF LIKE THIS, HEADCANONS, ALPHABETS AND DRABBLES ARE WHAT IM BEST AT :,)

also I wanted this to be SO MUCH LONGER THAN WHAT I DONE BUT I DIDNT KNOW HOW

Warnings in tags, if I somehow missed a tw PLEASE tell me, it would be much appreciated<33

~MINORS DNI~

He couldn’t help the way his eyes roamed your body, specifically your thighs his hands wrapped around your waist as he cuddles your sleeping figure. Slightly squirming at the uncomfortable bulge that was making itself more known underneath his pants, he lets out a quiet groan, rolling his eyes in annoyance as it wont go away. He thought of what yous spoke about a few weeks ago, specifically something you brought up due to his high sex drive. somnophillia.

It was often (he) one of yous would wake up desperately needing to touch the other, to soothe the heat that was building up inside yous, but it still happened and yous were exhausted from getting woken up from one another when either of yous needed the other, thats why you recently brought up the idea of somnophillia despite yous both agreeing upon it he was still hesitant, what if you changed your mind, what if you forgot, what if he wakes you up his mind was racing with different thoughts. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable or hurt you so he just sighs. Trying to shake your resting figure awake “dear…?” His voice is quiet not wanting to be too loud yet it had a hint of desperation in it.

“Love?” He rubs his eyes sitting up and shaking your shoulder, you let out a soft incoherent murmur mixed with a groan as in response to him, he shakes your shoulder again taking your groan as a sign of you waking up.

"mm?" you murmur softly "what Matt..?" you sounded annoyed which was understandably so. He sighs looking down at your half asleep figure and hesitantly speaking "I need you.." his voice was barely above a mumble, barely coherent, his normally confident behaviour always crumbled when it came to you, becoming a mess just for you. he hated it. He hated the way you'd make him feel, he felt stupid for it, desperate even, he couldn't stop despite how much he hated the feeling he longed for it.

His thoughts were cut off by you're voice ringing through "we talked about this..." he looks back at you embarrassed "I know, I know.. I just wanted to make sure you were still comfortable with it.." his voice was soft and quiet, clearly embarrassed from having to wake you up, yet again, you just nod and yawn "Mmmhmm.." you chuckle sleepily.."it's fine.." you whisper and try to go back to sleep, ignoring your own arousal that grew between your thighs.

He softly sighs, freeing his cock from his boxers hesitantly. His eyes trailing along your thighs, gently spreading them and pulling at your panties (IM SO SORRY THAT WORD MAKES ME CRINGE SO BAD, I DONT KNOW WHY) his fingers skilfully but slowly rub along your cunt, prepping you as he pushes two long slender fingers in your tight hole eliciting a quiet and soft whimper quietly come from you, once he was sure you were ready he added an extra finger just to stay on the safe side, pumping them in and out of your cunt feeling some slick cover them as he removes them. Guiding his needy cock towards your cunt, his tip a angry red leaking with precum as he pushes himself in, groaning as he tries to stay still, letting your cunt adjust to his girth, his cock twitching inside your tight cunny and his piercing pressed against your gummy walls as he patiently waits, after a minute or two he finally starts moving his hips. His cock hitting all the right places as it rubs against your walls, he has to stifle a moan as to not wake you up again. His thrusts get progressively harder and quicker, moving his girth in and out of your soaked cunt, his balls slapping against your ass as he feels your cunny clench around his cock, biting his lip as he lets out a sharp needy moan at how good you feel. With a soft whine, he bottoms out in you, his eyes squeezing shut as he leaves sleepy but loving kisses along your neck whilst thrusting into you softly, his free hand playing with your pretty pussy, rubbing your clit gently, watching your hips slightly jolt as his fingers get more rougher with his thrusts, pulling your shirt off and gently kissing each of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the left one whilst his right hand continues toying with your clit, desperately rubbing it as he feels the nerves, listening to your soft moans and whines, feeling your cunt squeezing around his girth, signalling that your getting closer to the impending orgasm thats building up, watching as your lip quivers just slightly, letting out a soft pretty moan that sounds so angelic, chuckling as he presses his lips against yours, pressing a kiss against your beautiful lips, one of his favourite features of yours, of course he loves everything about you but your pretty lips are definitely one of his favourites.

Soft thrusts hit against your cervix, desperately rutting against it as he gets closer, rubbing your clit even more to get you to cum before him, holding himself off, wanting you to be pleasured before him, stifling a moan as he feels your cunt squeeze even harder on his girth, whimpering as he feels your cum start dripping onto his cock, sighing in relief as you come before he does, his cock twitches in your cunt almost instantly, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier as he nears his impending release, moaning loudly as his cum shoots in your cunny, semen dribbling out your cunt as he slowly pulls his half erect length out, laying on his back as he lets outs a soft sigh, cuddling you close to him, kissing your cheek and smiling as he yawns softly.

I dunno how to end it and my heads been splitting me for hours now >~< but hey it’s finally posted LMAOOO sorry for the wait!!!

#tw somno #tw smut #tw somnophillia #death note #death note smut #matt jeevas #mail jeevas #Matt jeevas smut #mail jeevas smut #jeevas smut #death note x reader #soft somno

[syringesyrup]

Hello syringe… u said ficlet request and we both enjoy mountrain so… rain being well rain and cooing and praising mountain in a demeaning manner Im just sayinnnnnnnn

amongus imposter sound effect in my head when i read this U PSYCHOPAAAATH!!!!

“There we go.” Rain hums as he straddles himself over Mountain’s waist, tying the rope around his wrists into a tight but easily undoable knot. Mountain feels suffocated in his jeans, clearing his throat as he adjusts to the grip around his wrists. He has got to stop getting himself into these situations.

“Good?” Rain checks as he shuffles back onto Mountain’s lap, sitting there like it doesn’t make Mountain want to rip the binds off and grab the water ghoul and make a mess of him. Mountain only watches Rain as he swallows and nods with an “uh-huh.”

Rain smiles. “Aww.” He coos with a flick of his tail. “Stupid already?”

Mountain freezes. “Wh-huh?” He babbles, his face flushed despite his heart falling through his stomach just a second ago. Rain only adjusts himself on Mountain’s lap, grinding his hips against the earth ghoul in a way that he knows makes Mountain crazy.

“You heard me.” Rain smiles before he sighs. “Or maybe you didn’t. Maybe you are too stupid to even listen to me when I’m talking to you.” His hand, once gentle on Mountain’s thigh, grips him tightly and makes the earth ghoul squirm underneath him.

“What the fuck?” Mountain groans. “I’m not fucking stupid.”

“No, no.” Rain soothes as he leans up and places his hands on Mountain’s face, rubbing soft circles into his skin. “Of course not, yeah?” Mountain only stares up at him, trying to lose himself in Rain’s eyes and not the tightening of his jeans that Rain is purposefully causing.

“You just get stupid when I’m around, right?” Rain smiles. It’s that dark smile that he’s definitely mirrored from Swiss. His eyes are lidded perfectly, just open enough to see the blue in them. Mountain shuffles below him, shrinking underneath the water ghoul as he leans back and presses his palm in between Mountain’s thighs.

Mountain chokes on his own saliva and reels back. “Y-yes!” he whines, high and embarrassing. Rain laughs at how easily he comes undone. He’s such a sucker for Rain.

Mountain doesn’t know if he hates this or loves this. It’s horrifying to see Rain flip the switch, being the one to dumb him down instead of vice versa. Sure, he’s called Rain his fair share of demeaning and borderline rude things in the bedroom, but Rain likes it. Rain bathes in it like honey and drinks it up like he’s starving.

Mountain? He hasn’t figured it out yet.

“Listen.” Rain says, low and gravelly. It makes Mountain’s head snap up quickly, his pupils blown as he watches Rain place himself between his thighs. “Good.” He smiles when Mountain stares down at him. “You actually listened for once instead of being lost in that empty brain of yours.”

Mountain shudders as Rain’s words strike him like a slap to the face. Maybe he does like this, or else he wouldn’t be so suffocated against his impossibly tight jeans right now.

“You just get to sit there and be my pretty little toy while I have my fun with you, yeah?” Rain hums as his claw hooks under the button on Mountain’s jeans. “You’re gonna do as I say. I know you will.” He grins. “You’re not much good for anything else, are you, baby?”

Mountain whines, tugging his wrists against the binds over his head. “Rainy, please.” He begs, his legs starting to shake from how badly he needs his water ghoul right now.

“Good.” Rain says. “Let’s see how dumb you get when I play with you.”

#my art #ghost bc #the band ghost #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #OH MY GOD WHO WROTE THISSS 😦😦😦!!!

[spikesbimbo]

Picnic Date

Pairing: Shugo Meian x Reader

Tags: Picnic date with a side of head, fluff, babymaking breeding kink, daddy kink, nipple sucking, oral sex, handjob, outdoor/public sex, mating press

Summary: Your titties look a little too good to be kept in that dress.

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: i tried looking up his bio to get a better idea of his personality but there's nothing. I def think hes a gemini sun and/or mars

-And also i do not support zoos and aquariums, i just can't think of where else people would go on a date☠️

18+ Minors DNI

You laid on the blanket, your head in his lap a little buzzed from the champagne you drank earlier, giggling with that soft smile of yours, him stroking your hair out of your face watching the cute little kids run around.

Going out with your fiance was a regular occurance, you’ve pretty much been (fucked) everywhere in the city with him. He loved to express his feelings for you by taking you on spontaneous dates; whether it be the beach in the middle of the night, the club, aquarium, and any new food place that opened up, loving watching you eat.

“Aren't they cute?” He said referring to the toddler pushing his baby brother on the swing. You already knew where this was going, yes you've daydreamed about starting a family together, but having a 6' 5., 200lb man's babies was a nightmare for your body. But that was overshadowed but the sincere look he had on his face watching them play, not to mention you were ovulating right now making your baby fever rise.

“Yeah” you shyly mumble, hoping he doesn't notice the blood rushing to your face, spoiler he does. 

You try to take your mind off of that, feeding him the sliced up watermelon, keeping all the strawberries to yourself. His lips lingering on your sticky fingers. You loved babying him, yes he was a grown, strong ass man, but the second he was in your arms he melted, finding comfort in you.

“Your shoulders are stiff baby” you said, noticing it after leaning on them for hours “You want a massage?” you asked, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, already knowing the answer taking matters into your own hands.

“Yeah doll, whatever you want.” he said, giving you the go. You work your hands over his shoulders down his back, your boobs pushing against him, making him grow in his pants. You were just trying to have a cute date, but the way your body looked in that sundress was killing him. The thin straps leading down to the v-neck exposing your cleavage. The loose cotton material hugging your hips perfectly, stopping below your knees. Fuck you were pretty.

The tree behind you covered you two just enough, the park was empty enough now as it was now dinner time and all the families went home. 

He thinks for a second, it not being the first time you two have fucked in public, the last time being in the locker room. All worries leave him as he grabs your neck pulling you in for a kiss, falling in his lap. His lips were warm and soft, parting slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside tasting the sweetness of the fruit.

He kisses down your neck, stopping at your collarbone and pulls your top to the side freeing your breast. “Meian”  You moaned, the feeling of being exposed making you twitch.

His mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking greedily, gripping his hair pushing him into you more. Your tits feeling sensitive and sore, him latching his mouth onto you. He was so grateful for you being in his life, letting him use you as he needed. Him showing his love by giving you your every want and need.

You looked around making sure no one was here, the embarrassment of Hinata walking in on you two while he was balls deep in you in the locker room making cringe at the thought, but who were you to deny your fiance as sweet as he was? 

You reach down palming his crotch until he was hard. Your fingers sliding slowly down not wanting to leave, unzipping his pants bringing his boxers down, precum staining the fabric pulling it down enough to uncover his cock. 

You wanted to be his good girl, he was always so good to you. He’d never tell you no, whether it was wanting him to get you something or wanting to ride him in the middle of the night, he never told you no.

“nghh daddy” you whined, him finally giving you a break from abusing your tits. He tightly wrapped his other hand around your waist leaving an imprint, dragging you closer to him.

“You're so good to me angel.” He whispered, making you shudder. His low voice stirring something inside of you.

“Really daddy?” You asked, hoping to get confirmation that you were doing a good job, grabbing his balls underneath you.

“Fuck baby” he said, thrusting his hips, you squeezing his balls a little harder. He looked at you with heavy eyes, pleading for you to touch his throbbing cock.

You took him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his shaft the best you could, stroking him slowly looking up to meet his eyes to see if you were doing a good job.

He looks at you grabbing your thigh to stabilize himself and reattaching himself to you tits, you made him feel like he was in heaven, what's better than getting played with by a pretty girl with her tits in his mouth.

“Fuck princess im close. You gonna let me cum in that little mouth of yours?” you don't respond, just moving your head down to be face to face with his cock stroking your hand faster, opening your mouth for whenever he was ready.

“Fuck y/n” he groaned, his voice crackling at his release. His cock still so sensitive in your hands. His cum dripping down your lips, you not being able to swallow it all.

“Clean it up” He said, referring to the mess in his lap. You quickly moved your mouth to his length kissing the tip, some cum still on it as you worked your way down. His hand grips your hair as you wrap your lips around him.

 A throaty groan escapes and he rolls eyes back. He thrusts into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat making you gag and your eyes water, but you don't get off, still keeping him in your mouth.

You move your head up and down moaning at the feeling, wanting to reach down and relieve yourself but knowing he wouldn't allow it. Your eyes water this time not because you're choking but because you're needy, wanting to be touched also. 

Your eyes flicker up and see him staring at you with his eyes drowning you in lust. His dark locks stuck to his forehead. His cheeks red with want as his breath quickens.

“Baby, fuck. I'm close”

You bob your head faster, hoping to push him over the edge sooner, your jaw hurting with each motion. His hand is wrapped in your hair again and you can feel his voice get strained and deeper letting you know he was about to cum again.

He doesnt pull out when he spills, his cock sitting in the back of your throat. You swallow his cum for the second time today. Him finally taking it out, looking at your disheveled appearance, wondering how you were so beautiful while looking like a mess.

“Cmere baby” he said dragging you in for a kiss, lifting your dress up enough to feel your drenched panties, not giving a fuck if anyone saw with the sun still out.

You loved his cock so much, borderline worshipping it. It filled you in all the right places, stretching your little cunny out while hitting your g spot, him being the only one that could ever make you feel this way.

“Daddy” you moaned. “ I need it daddy. Please” You whined out as he laid you on your back, hand behind your head making sure you didn't hurt yourself. 

He parted your legs sliding your panties off, your body beneath him, your soft tits slipping out of your dress, your soaked pussy on display for him. Fuck he was in love. 

“Hold on angel” he said, adjusting himself with your entrance, staying in this position so he could see your pretty face.

 “You're such a good girl.” he said, slowly sliding his cock in against your whimpers. “Pretty girl, taking a cock too big for you” he continued, you grabbing his arms, leaving indents from your nails.

 “Look at you, i haven't even bottomed out yet and you've already made a mess” he teased, putting your legs on his shoulders, stroking your cheek.

 “Uhhngh please” you cried trying to hold on as he finally settled into you and started thrusting 

 “Meian please” you said not knowing what you were begging for. 

 “Hmm” he froze, stopping his movement.

 “s-sorry daddy” you realized correcting yourself.  “sorry please... please”

 “Guess I’ll just have to pull out then” he said slowly taking his cock out looking at your teary eyes all distraught

 “No! Dont pull out. Daddy pleaseee, no, please please... nghhah” you cried out like the world was gonna end if he didnt fuck you.

“Hmm? You want me to cum in you? You want my babies?” he teased, getting off on the fact that he knew you got turned by the thought of having his kids. The embarrassment appearing on your face, highly aware of your needs, you turned your face away looking at the grass beside you.

 “Hmm? u gonna be my good girl?” He said cupping your jaw to look at him.

 “Yes daddy” you said reaching your arms out trying to grab him in for a kiss.

 “Nope only good girls get to kiss daddy”

“Nooo daddy please!” You cried again, needing his touch.

 “U gonna let me stuff you full?”

 “Yea-ah” you said pulling your legs back exposing your sloppy cunt, needing him to be in you again.

 “There’s my good girl” he praised leaning down into you, thrusting in you getting harder each time. 

 “D-daddy m’gonna make a mess” You cried coming closer to your orgasm. You feeling him batter your cervix and g spot at the same time making your tummy burn and seeing white.

 “You are sweet girl? Go ahead. Do it.” He cooed, encouraging you to let go. You listened and quickly came, clenching around him making him follow soon after.

 He brought you up against him, his still being in you whispering sweet praise while stroking your head. You feel so content in his arms, enough to fall asleep, but unfortunately you two had to walk home as the sun was setting.

 “Love you meian” You said, snuggling in him yawning

“Love you too angel” he replied, kissing your forehead as you two watched the sun set in the distance, trying you best to stay awake. The both of you never being as happy as you were together.

<3

© all content belongs to spikesbimbo. do not alter or repost .

#shugo meian x reader #shugo meian #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #meian smut #shugo meian smut #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #meian x reader #meian shugo x reader

[peachiimilquetea]

𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 boyfriend has never been too sexual of a guy... or so he thought

this authors note is gonna be a bit longer so bare with me pls. so this is the very first request im doing! woo! tysm to @m0chilattae ​ for this request it was so good and i had a lot fun fleshing it out! this is also my first scenario so its not gonna be in my usually bulleted format. I hope you guys like it and please let me know if you have any preferences for legibility or anything like that!

length: 2.6k

contains: sub!bf x dom!reader, afab/fem!reader, light b0ndage, edging, teasing, use of baby boy, use of miss/mistress, light degradation (m!receiving), face sitting/ oral (mostly r! receiving), light overstimulation (m! receiving), 69 technically?, vibe play

“wow you didn’t even flinch,” you murmured

you and your boyfriend sat on the couch cuddled up together, the dim light from the tv softly reflected on your faces. this movie almost was unbearably long, but he had insisted you had to see it and so here you were almost an hour later.

“what?”

you pulled your eyes away from the screen to look at your boyfriend.

“this woman is getting some of the best dick of her life on screen and you didn’t even miss a beat,” you giggled.

you weren’t even trying to be funny. the actress on screen let out an exaggerated moan as the man in front of her practically plowed into her, almost to prove your point. the scene wasn’t really your cup of tea but even you were a bit affected, feeling heat prick your skin as you watched the sex scene unfold.

your boyfriend, however, seemed extremely disinterested.

“hey can we skip this scene?” he asked and you grabbed the remote to fast forward.

the rest of the movie went pretty well. your boyfriend made a pretty good choice for this week’s movie night, but you were more focused on what he said earlier.

“babe?”

“hm?”

“so that scene really didn’t make you feel anything? not even a little stomach flutter?”

“nope,” he said popping the p for emphasis, “its just not my thing i guess.”

it wasn’t a secret in your relationship that your boyfriend had a significantly lower sex drive than you did. it was a running joke among his friends and he was almost notorious for not really being too interested in the cultural narrative of traditional sex.

you didn’t hold it against him of course, you loved him all the same and he even got you some toys for the times that he just wasn’t feeling it, but something was always off about his apathy towards getting down and dirty with you. there was, however, one thing you had not tried yet.

you were a switch, but you had never tried to turn the tables on your boyfriend. it could be the missing piece you thought, as you cleaned up the living room. as he took the dishes to the kitchen to wash them you made the executive decision to test your running theory

“you know, i think we should try something later this week,” you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.

“yeah? something like what?” he turned off the water and sighed, leaning into your touch.

“hmmm its a surprise. but you do have to come up with a safeword for me.”

“ill think about it”

and thus your plan was set into motion.

on the days leading up to the finale of your master plan, you decided to start small with the teasing. you had never attempted to turn the tables on your boyfriend and you were extremely curious as to how things would go.

you had asked him to go out and pick up some things for dinner.

“im home!” he called and you directed him to the kitchen with his bags.

“i was just about to start cutting up veggies, so perfect timing babe. did you get the salmon i asked for?”

“yup! i got the last fillet.”

“good boy! you’re so helpful baby i was afraid there wouldn’t be any left”

your boyfriend paused mid-action as he processed what you had just said to him. he didn’t notice the way you were subtly taking note of how his face heated up slightly and how he began to fumble over his words just a little.

the pet name made his stomach do flips, but why was that? did he like that? he didn’t even know himself, but he pushed it down and continued to help you unpack the groceries and set up for your meal. 

the second time you teased him was when he was doing some work for school. he had managed to give himself a huge papercut and came out of his room to find you for help.

“what the hell happened?” you gasped as you saw the state of his finger. he would live but you had no idea how he managed to do this with one sheet of paper.

“s’just a papercut but it stings like crazy. do you have a bandaid?”

you hurried to get him fixed up so he could get right back to work,

“you have to be more careful, baby boy, you only get 10 fingers,” you smiled at him, knowing your words would have an effect on him again.

he sputtered, whatever he was going to say becoming a jumbled mess in his mouth at the casual way you called him baby boy. it was so natural for you, and it sounded so so good to his ears.

“what?” he croaked out, desperately hoping you would repeat yourself.

“are you feeling ok? you’re looking a bit flushed, babe. i just said you need to be more careful, how much blood did you lose?”

“n-not too much,” he ran a hand through his hair to subtly calm himself down, “it was just a paper cut.”

“well ok, if you need anything else you know where to find me.”

the smile in your voice was a new kind of torture to him. he didn’t even know he could feel so hot all the time, let alone from words alone.

you, on the other hand, were growing more and more excited as the days passed. the build-up would make the end of the week that much sweeter and you were determined to make it good for him.

the end of the week couldn’t come fast enough for the two of you. your boyfriend had never been this horny in your life and you had never been so ready to help him out.

as you gently adjusted the restraints around his wrists he felt all sorts of anticipation bubbling in his stomach. he didn’t know what you had planned but he was almost itching to find out. so much for not being too interested.

“do you remember the safe word?” you asked, tugging the chain to check its security to the bed.

“yes,” he breathed.

“good.”

you left the room to collect yourself and to give yourself the element of surprise. you had to make this a performance, and a damn good one at that.

giving yourself one last look over in the mirror, you stepped back into the room and put on your dominant demeanor. it felt good to be back after such a long time.

“you know,” you started, circling your boyfriend on the bed, “i almost feel silly for not picking up on this sooner.”

your boyfriend said nothing verbally, but his eyes followed you like a starved animal, mind holding onto every word you said for dear life. his mouth was so dry and he was so turned on.

“its funny really, i never did anything because i didn’t want to scare you. isn’t that ironic, baby?” you mused out loud, “the one thing you wanted all along has been here the whole time.”

he finally found his voice, asking, “and what’s that?”

you came closer to him, hooking your leg around his other side and sitting on top of him. you teasingly rubbed your hands all over his chest and stomach, reveling in how he squirmed for you made such small and cute sounds.

“you wanted someone to take control.”

he screwed his eyes shut and let out a low “fuck” at your words as you rubbed over his nipples lightly. he stared at your tits, desperately wanting to grope you back but being stopped by his restraints. 

he bucked in surprise when you pinched them, letting out a loud gasp and throwing his head to the side.

“awww, my baby boy is so sensitive,” you crooned and you swore you watched him die and go to heaven when you called him that.

“you like it when i call you a good boy?”

he groaned, nodding his head feverishly. you caressed his face and kissed him on the forehead, getting off his lap and getting out your box of toys from underneath the bed. it was time to really make him see stars

“as glad as i am that we’ve gotten to the root of your issue, you still need to be punished for not being truthful with me.”

“but _____ i didnt-”

“who?” you asked, voice turning icy in a split second, “you call me miss or mistress. do you understand?”

“yes miss,” he shivered.

“now, are you going to behave?” you asked, vibrator in hand.

he eyed the toy down but still nodded. you motioned for him to lift his hips up and got his pants off, leaving him in just his underwear strapped to your shared bed.

it was a sight you never thought you were going to see, so you savored it, drinking in his naked and flushed form, and really enjoying how antsy he got under your gaze. it was truly intoxicating.

“you always told me your sex drive was low, and yet here you are, practically keening at the thought of me using you like the toy you are. do you want me to touch you?”

he began to nod but you grabbed his jaw, making him look you in the eye, “use your words like a good boy.”

“yes mistress, i want you to touch me so bad”

“where do you want me to touch you?”

“o-on my c-chest and stomach. a-and on my… you know,” he mumbled shyly towards the end.

“you have to say it, baby boy,” you grinned pinching and twisting his nipples again. he cried out in surprise and pleasure.

“my cock! i want you to touch my cock! please miss!”

you smiled as he started to crack and looked down at where his dick strained in his underwear. his cock head was practically dripping, leaving him with a dark patch right on the front of his underwear. you hadn’t even properly touched him yet and he was almost cumming in his pants.

you pulled his briefs down, enjoying the view of his cock bouncing back up and hitting his lower stomach. grabbing it with some force, you started to stroke him, thumbing his slit to spread his precum around and use it like lube. 

“we’ll have you get you a cock ring soon because this won’t do,” you said, making a fist for him to buck up into.

he was moaning pretty loud now, the loudest you’d ever heard him outside of receiving head. there was a familiar but searing heat blooming in your stomach but you pushed it down. right now the focus was on him.

turning on the vibrator, you concentrated it to the underside of his head. he let out a yelp, then a hiss and a whine as he felt the waves of pleasure crash over him.

“t-this- its too much! s’too much!”

you let it continue for a few seconds before turning the vibrator off and moving away from him. 

you watched as your boyfriend fought against his restraints, bucking into the empty air for even a semblance of friction.

“i was on the edge! w-why did you stop?”

“you thought mistress was going to let you cum that easily? you’re working for this baby,” you stepped back up to him and grabbed his cock again, turning the vibrator to a higher setting than before.

back and forth you went edging the boy on the bed. as you teased him more and more, he became more restless, thrashing around more and really letting himself feel every stroke, change of pace, and new vibration. 

after a while, you couldn’t take the pangs of white-hot need shooting through your abdomen so you decided to put him to good use. you turned the vibe off, leaving the poor boy at the edge and climbed back on top of him, scooting yourself over to where his face was.

his eyes widened as he looked up at you, realizing what you had planned for him in real time. 

“do you think you can handle me sitting on your face?”

he audibly groaned, “yes mistress. i would love- mmmph!”

you cut him off by lowering yourself down on him, relishing in the relief of his tongue on your cunt. he moved in long and languid strokes at first, almost teasing, but then began to really eat as if his life depended on it, sucking on your cl!t and fucking you with his tongue.

you could feel your legs shaking as he went to town. you grabbed the headboard and unconsciously began to grind against his face, giving him little pockets of air now and then. you then got an amazing idea.

you completely dismounted off his face and turned around so you were facing his cock. he was still tied up very well, and he bucked his hips up at the view of your ass right in his face. 

he lifted his head to take a bite out of it and you slapped his thigh, chuckling at how eager he was. he had earned the right to be a little bit playful at least.

“do you want me to make you cum? you’ve been a good boy so i think you’ve earned it.”

“yes yes! i wan- i want it more than anything- i-”

“but,” you grabbed his cock, “ you have to make me cum first.”

“i-i can do that,” he moaned and you lowered yourself onto him and let him take over. it felt so good you almost forgot that his cock was right there.

you pressed a few light kisses to the head and almost immediately came his muffled moans from being deep in your pussy. you were so close you just needed a little but more.

he sucked on you with vigor, finally tipping you over the edge with a harsh suck to your clit. you cried out and braced yourself on his thighs, riding out your orgasm all over his face. he groaned as he tried to keep up with you, licking up everything that gushed out with vigor and you spasmed in slight overstimulation as he cleaned you up.

“you’re such a good boy,” you sighed.

you flipped around once again, catching him in a searing kiss before sinking down on his cock without warning. you swallowed a garbled moan of his as you continued to kiss him and leave marks on his neck and chest, riding him slowly.

“miss, im not gonna last long at all,” he whimpered and you ran a hand through his hair to push it out of his face as you looked at him.  

“that’s ok, baby boy. just let go”

two more strokes and he was cumming in you with a loud groan. his heavy breathing fanned your face as you continued past the threshold of pleasure he was prepared for.

“m-miss- i-ah! i finished- finished!” he babbled as you rode him into an overstimulated frenzy

“hurts-it hurts! please mistress no more!”

you finally slowed to a stop and let him just calm down inside you. after unsheathing him and taking off his restraints, you laid in your bed together in comfortable silence.

“what was that?” he asked and the both of you dissolved into post-coitus giggling. 

“well i’ve always been a domme, but i never thought you would be into that kinda thing. you never seemed like you were into any kind of thing.”

“that is true. i just didn’t know i was into… that”

he sighed as you played with his hair, “well now that we know, we can do more. a lot more.”

he looked up at you with a lazy smile, “most definitely”

𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @kixa​

#[🍑]peachiiwrites #[🍦] #[🍑]peachiimilquetea #peachiileafrequests #dom!reader #sub!bf #scenario #oneshot #request #overstimulation

[bloodpenned]

( sad caleb content has given me a mood 🥺😭 all the biggest “take care of him!!!” alarms going tf off. )

Ragged boy with hands too cracked and clothed rumpled, overworn, scars and bites peaking out from the collar of his neck? Getting yelled at by a couple, seemingly only saying things that keep incensing them towards chaos, til the guy finally punches him right in the nose and leaves him stumbling with a dazed smile?

Well, no one’s ever accused you of being well-adjusted. The way he wipes his blood on the edge of his sleeve that already has mysterious stains on it makes you pause. The blood dripping down his nose does something funny to your gut. Pathetic and easily bruised and a jarring sight to see surrounded by people who don’t know what it’s like to love blood smeared on skin.

You could just walk by and let this simple curiosity be nothing but a thought. But he coughs, throat scratched up and wheezing - he’s revolting. He’s lovely. Throw caution to the wind and edge closer to him til he notices you and cracks a joke about your ass or your lips. Smile pleasantly while you dig out a handful of napkins and reach out for him- is it okay? - you ask and he immediately says yes, like there’s no other answer at all. Clean up the blood and fluids around his nose and mouth gently, careful to avoid any flinching. (Honestly, you’d kiss him as is, blood and bruised face and spit and all. Boys like him kiss the sweetest at the end of the day.) Go into the convenience store nearby and buy him some ointment, some disinfectant, and sit him down on a bench while you patch him up. It’s what anyone would do, you say, but your intentions are hardly noble when all you want is to touch his cracked skin a little more.

Finish up and give into the desire to touch his hair and call him a good boy, he did so well. Underneath all that mess, his eyes are pretty. Take a gamble, ignore the need to take him home, and wait. Pretend you don’t feel exhilaration when you notice a familiar face in the crowd. (You want to tug him into an alley and shove his face between your legs. You want to sit him down in a bus filled with people and ride him, right in the middle of all those people, while he grips your shirt and whimpers. You want to see if he’d sit obediently and let you brush his hair til all the knots are out. He’d look so sweet curled up in your silk sheets, warming your bed.)

But you can play the long game. You’ve learned the hard way that if you try and hold onto someone the way you want to, they’ll drown under the weight of it all.

… you may or may have not presumptuously already bought a collar. Fuck.

ANONNN i love your mind <33333 creep x creep romance with caleb is the way to go. im just LKAJSFLKJSDFLKJSDF THIS IS GOOD.... VERY....

Caleb looks as dazed as he did after he was punched when you finish cleaning up his face. It takes a lot to resist grabbing your hand and pushing it against his face again. He's not used to touch without pain. (And he likes it that way, but it makes anything else stand out all the more.) Doesn't know how to return your pleasant smile with a nice one of his own, he always smiles too wide, with the slightest hint of teeth. The cracks in his dry lips widen. Nothing about him is approachable. (hunched over, panting like a dog, voice scratchy when he 'hits on' you, face and neck blotched red, licking the blood from his upper lip.) But you did anyway. This sparks a bit of interest inside him, more than the typical stranger.

So he follows you like a loyal dog, just half a step behind your pace. Never right next to you. Loiters outside the store while he waits for you to return instead of going inside. He's happy to be patched up in public. Caleb shuffles as close to you as he can, and you already have to be pretty close to each other so you can help. There's no way you aren't smelling his sweat. He shivers as you rub his skin, turning flush underneath your touch. When you disinfect the wounds, he moans at the sting it gives. At least he has the decency to apologise for that, albeit with a breathy chuckle and more of his 'smiling'. Caleb fully believes he's the only one with less than savoury intentions here. He's always blind to the perversion in others.

Even as you touch his hair (that might stick to your hand with how greasy it is) and call him a good boy, he assumes you to just be some sweet stranger. He shudders and breathes hard at how pleasant it is, and, for once, tries to act subtle not to draw attention to how obviously hard he is. Snatches your wrist when you turn to leave and stutters out a request for your name, but nothing more. His hand is so slick.

Of course he starts hanging out at the same spot, hoping to see you again. In a way, he plays the long game too. Caleb follows and waits and sees the places you frequent, to make it more likely to run into you. All for just a glimpse, a reminder of your touch. But he's too nervous to approach <3 He'd rather have the memory of how nice you were, than have a second encounter go terribly.

#oc.caleb #k.blood

[a-pretty-nerd]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 10

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

A/N:

I hope you guys like this chapter! If you wanna support me further and hang out, check out my Patreon for more of my content and my discord!

Word count: 1,818

Warnings: Minor violence

Chapter 9 Chapter 11

Loud announcement after loud announcement blasted from the speakers as the police spoke. Repeating the same few sentences over and over again. His stomach turned as anxiety took hold of him. Izuku Midoriya stood nearly a block away from the scene as he watched. He and Bakugou were given orders to sit on the perimeter and wait in case they were needed. Having experienced The League before, their assistance was helpful. But everyone was hoping it wouldn't be needed. For now, everyone's top priority was you. Bakugou huffed in frustration, folding his arms across his chest as he watched.

"I don't get it. We should just round them up while we still can. If we don't act fast, they'll slip out of our hands again." He growled.

"Arrest isn't our top priority right now. The hostage's safety is. We can't risk any harm coming to her. You know that." Midoriya answered. The blonde scoffed and spoke again after a long pause.

"I still can't believe it."

"Believe what?"

"That he has a daughter. You'd think he would have mentioned something like that by now. After all these years. Especially one with such a strong quirk."

"Yeah...I don't have kids of my own so, I don't know much about that but...It's odd isn't it? That he never mentioned her. Not even to us." Bakugou thought for a moment.

"Maybe it was the mom. Maybe she kept it that way. We don't know much about her."

"No...that doesn't sit right. Her mom seems intense, sure. But that's his daughter. I don't know about you, but if I had a kid like her, I wouldn't be able to stop talking about her. So, it doesn't make sense why someone like him..."

"They were young, right? About our age?"

"That's right."

"Think about it. If you and Ururaka got pregnant right now, what do you think would happen?"

"Thats different, she's a hero too-"

"No. Really. Think about it. If she told you tomorrow you were gonna have a kid, how would you feel?" Midorya thought for a moment.

"Scared, I guess."

"Would you slow down your hero work? After everything you've done, all the work you've put into this. Would you risk it all to be a proper father? And what about her? Would Ururaka be okay putting her life on hold for that kid? I doubt it."

"I see what you're saying. But that still doesn't explain why we're just finding out about her now."

"I'm sure he was just trying to protect her from shit like this happening. It's clear he still cares for her. It was probably his was of keeping her safe. As messed up as that is."

"I studied All Might my entire life. Became his successor and student. And still...I feel like I never really knew him until now."

"Mh."

"You're still my most valuable player. You're staying right here." Shigaraki's voice purred as his grip tightened around your arm. Pulling you closer to him. You felt your blood quickly rush up to your cheeks. The hot feeling coursing through your veins. You heard the loud squeak of a chair shifting across the floor. Your quirk unwittingly being activated. He ignored the sound, his deep red eyes glaring into yours as his scarred brow bone curved over them in a tight scowl. His eyes, so brilliant and full of passion. You were lost in them. Time always seemed to stop when he did this.

"Boss! We gotta get out of here! We can't fight them all!" Spinner shouted, tearing those eyes away from you. How long had he been starring at you? Was he just as lost as you? You were doubtful. If he was lost in anything, it was probably his rage. His grip on you loosened, slowly dropping your arm almost like he was reluctant to.

"The truck. Is the truck ready?"

"Yes, but I doubt we can get out of here without being caught."

"Of course not. That's why we'll need a distraction. Until then we need time. Toga, the phone, quick." She jumped at the command. Grabbing a smartphone of hers and quickly adjusting it to film. Shigaraki's hands quickly found your body again. But they weren't nearly as harsh as last time, just firm. Man handling you to appear threatening. One hand coming around your neck from behind to display his fingers, and the other around your arm. He pressed you against his body.

"Filming!" Toga shouted.

"You heroes should know better than to just barge into such a delicate situation. The conditions are simple. Make one wrong move, and the girl is dust. I'll even leave her in a pretty little urn for you, hehehe, All Might."

"Cut! Edit and send to the heroes right?"

"And social media, anything to get it on the news. Dabi, Twice, is there a way for you to contact our friends on the outside?"

"But boss! They have us tapped! They'll be prepare for our escape!" Twice shouted.

"They've planned for it already. We've lost the element of surprise. We need results."

"Shigaraki?" You croaked.

"What!?" He shouted in your ear. You winced, holding your free had up to tap at his wrist around your neck.

"Could you, loosen up a bit?" He swiftly pulled his hands away from you. Watching you gently cough and regain your breath.

"We're not, really going to kill her, are we?" Toga pulled her attention away from her phone and shuffled closer to you. Turning to be in-between you and Shigaraki, almost to protect you from being grabbed again.

"No. Not if we plan to get out of here." He and turned sat down on the couch, his hands coming up to rub against his sore neck. Toga patted your back.

"You alright there? You're burning up. You're not sick are you?"

"No...No Im fine."

"You sure?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, Toga." It made her smile to hear you say that.

"Don't worry. Tomura's smart. He'll get us out safe, you'll see." You smiled back at her.

"I'm sure. But somehow I doubt I'll see you again. So, if this is goodbye-"

"Don't say that!" Toga shouted. "We're gonna stick together. Remember? I promised you I wouldn't let anyone hurt you!" You starred at her with wide eyes as your heart raced in your chest. A loud flutter.

"But, Toga."

"But nothing, friends stick together, right?" You nodded. "Then that settles it! We're taking her with us, aren't we guys?" Confused faces looked up at the two of you. "Well?"

"Uh- Sure." Spinner shrugged.

"Hell No - Alright!" Twice shouted.

"Heh, alright." Dabi chuckled.

"Tomura?" Toga called the absent-minded man.

"Huh?"

"We're taking her with us, right? She's one of us now!" Toga reached for your hand and curled her fingers between yours. Shigaraki looked up at her, his eyes lost in thought. "Tomura!" She scolded him like a little sister. He blinked a few times, shaking his attention to you.

"Are you, Y/L/N? Are you one of us?" You froze for a moment. No. Of course not. You're not a villain. You're not like these people! You're a heroes' kid! You're not evil! You're a good person!

You opened your mouth to speak, an overwhelming cacophony of thoughts keeping you from answering. For the first time in your entire life, you had been cared for in a way you never had before. No longer reliant on a bottle of pills to function properly. No longer forced to be productive. No pressure to be anything special. You could grow here. You could be yourself here. The room buzzed with energy at the activation of your quirk. Your emotional state boiling to a head, you opened your mouth to answer but before you could speak-

The building began to shake underneath you. You were thrown to the floor, eyes darting everywhere in search for the cause. The sound of explosions blasted above you, while what sounded like a bulldozer echoed below.

"Damn it! They're coming from both ends!" Dabi announced, gaining his balance to perform a ready stance before his blue flames emerged.

"C'mon Shigaraki! What do we do!" Twice shouted as he clung onto the man's forearm. The rest of you inching closer and closer to each other.

The blasts above became louder and louder until it became evident it was right above. Your stomach turned as you came to the realization. Before the order left his lips you had reached for a table across the room and brought it up above your small group for protection.

"Y/L/N!" Just in time for it to deflect the shrapnel of drywall that burst from the explosion above. Suddenly the floor below gave way, sending the six of you falling through the open air. There were supposed to be several floor to the building, but thanks to the hero, Deku, flimsy walls of the already rotting building had been quickly demolished within seconds.

You watched yourself fall, your hand desperately reaching for anything to hold on to. Failing and plummeting down with the rest of them. You watched as the DynaMight emerged from the smoke above to watch you with a satisfied grin plastered over his face.

The cries of the others behind you filled your ears. Why wasn't this hero doing something? Why wasn't he jumping to catch you? To catch the others? Is going to let you fall to your deaths? You can't let him do that! Quick- Quick- your quirk- catch them!

After a few attempts at activation in your panic, you were able to catch the others in the air. Just before their bodies hit the concrete of the building basement. Dropping them down from a safe few feet. The fall was uncomfortable, but a relief to you and the others that you could work so quickly.

But your success was short-lived as the building trembled and quaked with another explosion. You looked up just in time to watch what was left of the old hide out to come crashing down around you. Leaving you trapped in the basement, in complete darkness.

"THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" A familiar shriek echoed in Bakugou and Midoriya's ear pieces. They both jolted at the painful intrusion. Your mother, having just stolen a police walky talky huffed on the other end.

"Our apologies ma'am but they're fine. I saw it with my own eyes. They're just trapped under debris. Everything is going according to plan." Midoriya reassured.

"Ac- ACCORDING TO PLAN!? You mean to tell me, young man, that you intended to trap my daughter in with her KIDNAPPERS, WHO THREATENED TO KILL HER!?" She spat, understandably.

"If they wanted her dead by now, she would be. Shigaraki doesn't play games unless it's necessary. Trust me." Bakugou barked.

"So now what? We just wait until this psychopath decays his way loose?"

Taglist:

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff

@witch-o-memes @lolilith

#mha fanfiction #tomura shiragaki #tomura x y/n #bnha tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki thirst #league of villains #league of fanart

[yuthoe]

Day 18: Forbidden (MONSTA X: I.M)

S M U T tadaaaaa! (whether it's good is up to yall, but this is the most we're gonna get with my sleep addled brain lmao. today's prompt for May Trope Mayhem is:

Day 18: Historical Setting

and tbh i don't think i stressed that part of it well enough that it stands out HAHA i hope all my subtle allusions work lmao

(also this fic is driven by monsta x dropping concept images #1 and everyone swerving to im's vampire lookin ass, they all look way too good yall)

also, it's currently 11:25PM here and im tired from work, so sorry for any typos or grammatical errors. good night!

PAIRING: I.M x reader. GENRE: smut, fic. WARNINGS: oral sex (male receiving), female reader, degradation (this is a first guys HAHAHA). WORD COUNT: 899.

---

Changkyun sighs and shudders, losing himself in the feeling of your mouth on him. The darkness of the store room hides your features from him, but the way your tongue laves at him from root to tip, the way you suck on the head of his throbbing member, the way your hand pumps him with practiced movement… It is unmistakably you.

You with your expensive silks fit for a duke’s only daughter, your expertly styled hair that stays sculpted throughout a night of dancing, your delicate and smooth hands that only grip his when his face is between your thighs.

He lays his head back against the wall, mindful of the rough exposed brick that could no doubt crack his skull open, and that is not how he wants to leave this world.

A groan leaves his mouth. “Your mouth will be the death of me,” he grinds out, lowering a hand to you, almost landing on your hair before he remembers that you are still at the mansion of a baron of someone else, and he cannot have you looking like you walked through a hurricane.

You pull off, and even in the almost black of the room he can sense your cheeky smile. “My father will be the death of you if he finds us in here because you can’t be quiet, my lord.” And before he can reply with a quip of his own, you descend on him once more, prompting him to grip your hand that is keeping your balance on his thigh.

Changkyun tells himself that he indulges in these acts with you because of the unbearable tension between your families—a classic Romeo and Juliet kind of situation, where the more something is withheld, the more he wants to grasp it in his hands and never let it go. The allegory is quite extreme, but this lord is too much of a romantic to see any other side of his fixation for you.

He knows you cannot say the same, though. He knows that he does not know you.

Sparks rain down his spine at a particularly hard suck from you and Changkyun has to bite the sleeve of his velvet coat to keep from emitting another loud groan. The vibrations from your giggling wrack through him and make his legs shake.

“God damn it, woman, you really mean for the whole mansion to find us?” The earl rakes a hand through his hair and pitches his hips forward. “You really want everyone to see you?—my little whore, being so obedient for me and taking me so well in her pretty mouth.” He trails a finger down your cheek and cups under your jaw; you stiffen and shudder. “A shame I can’t fuck you like I want—your hair is done up very pretty tonight and I don’t want to mess it up and let everyone see how… depraved you are.” He tucks a stray hair behind your ear and you release a muffled mewl.

Changkyun smiles. “Or maybe you would like that, eh?”

He takes a shuddering breath, relaxes against the wall. “Go on then. Make me come.”

You do not need to be told twice, doubling your earlier efforts to milk him of his release. You take him deeper into your throat and suck hard, swiping your tongue over the skin you can reach. You set a rhythm as you bob your head, up and down, and with every tiny sound and whisper of praise from Changkyun you feel yourself leaking from underneath your skirts. It’s stuffy suddenly, the open neckline doing nothing to cool you down.

It is when you rake your manicured nails down Changkyun’s exposed thigh that he groans a final time and releases into your mouth. Where he usually presses you close by the back of your head, one of his hands is now clamped at your shoulder, the other at the side of your neck.

You swallow everything, and give him one final long lick as you pull away and adjust yourself to sit more comfortably on the dusty floor. You watch Changkyun catch his breath while righting his clothes with shaky hands. Once his breeches are properly fastened, he pats his pocket for a kerchief and hands it to you, and you take it gratefully.

He crouches in front of you, presses a soft kiss to your awaiting lips and says, “Stay here. I know your knees hurt from kneeling, so just wait for the pain to pass.” He levels you with the lopsided smirk you will never admit sends butterflies to your stomach. “If anyone asks, I shall say I glimpsed you by the hedge maze. It should tide them over for a while.”

You can only nod, grateful. Your throat is dry and you fear that no sound will come out if you attempt to speak.

The sharp-jawed earl stands, turns to you with his hand on the doorknob. “Wait here for that drink.” In a moment, the light swallows him and you are left alone in the dark.

Left once again to evaluate your stance on this rather sexual relationship, and whether it is in your best interest to pursue something more with him. Your father would have your hide for associating with his most hated rival, but surely he would not deny his daughter happiness, regardless of the person you choose…

Right?

#kdiarynet #monsta x smut #monsta x im #im #im changkyun #im changkyun smut #i'll put in the rest of the tags tomorrow im sleepy af #fic: mine #fic: spicy #fic: im #theme: may trope mayhem 2021

[himbodjarin]

LUNAR; CH8

18+ ONLY Series Content: Graphic descriptions of gore and smut. Din Djarin/Third Person POV.  Chapter Word Count: 8263 (im sorry) Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Reader - no use “y/n”

The Mandalorian is a driven warrior — traversing the galaxy in search of the ancient Jedi — but everyone has their weaknesses, and he’s no different. The Bounty Hunter possessed three in fact. One he’s discovered—The Child. The remaining two, though, he wasn’t aware of their existence. At least, not until he meets a valorous Sharpshooter underneath a moonless night sky; then he’s plummeting down a dark mission of self-discovery, questioning his morals and his Creed while the moon taunts him, the phases of the satellite corresponding to his personal revelations. However, the Girl has a dark past that may come to inflict hardships on the Mandalorian and the Child; it's up to the Bounty Hunter to decide her fate.

Read on AO3 / Series Masterlist

CHAPTER EIGHT: BLUE MILK PANCAKES

Mando still can’t grasp it actually happened—that he’d been so fortunate to experience such a jaw-dropping night with the Girl, with no ulterior motives no less. Back in his youth, when he was naive and desperate, it wasn’t exactly infrequent for a fling to take advantage of him; spend a quick few minutes so that one may eliminate him in his distraction or gain intel on private matters. The Girl didn’t try that—didn’t want that. She sought to provide him with sweet relief and nothing more, not even her own relief.

He felt so fucking worshipped.

Mando is the first of them to wake in the early rise of the sun. He sits there for a moment, savouring the gleaming rays shining through the viewport to warm his beskar and, consequently, his rigid body underneath. The Crest is coated in a layer of ice, corroding the durasteel beneath and, accompanied by the packed snow resting atop, it’s refrigerating the inside of the spacecraft. Mando slips on the discarded glove from overnight—a warmth surfacing his cheeks upon the reminder of last night’s events—and supplies friction to either hand in the prospect it’ll produce warmth. It’s wishful thinking. 

Granting him the opportunity to adjust to his surroundings, Mando stretches in his chair and virtually moans at the pulsations ranging through his limbs. It starts at his shoulders and travels through his core, nudging against the wound on his back and easing the tension out of his muscles, and reaches to the bottom of his toes which practically curl with delight. 

Mando considers removing the helmet to rub his eyes—the crust in the corners a botheration—lift it a tad in the least, but he doesn’t get the chance. The Child coos beside him, his little arms reaching up for assistance.

 “How did you get up here?” he asks, placing him on his knees. The Child doesn’t answer—why would he—and concentrates on balancing across the joints to tinker with deactivated buttons of the nav controls. “Where to, kid?” Mando scans the system’s database for a paragon planet to hunker down for a few days; spend some time with the kid—and the Girl, of course—before being ripped away from the semi-domestic life and continue on his unwritten path of planet-hopping.

There’s a planet not too far; small population, plenty of wilderness for the kid to explore, and there’s not much traffic that passes through. It’s good, perfect almost, and Mando is hesitant to accept the temptation. The Child’s head rotates to look at his guardian, his large green ears twitching curiously. He sighs and sets the coordinates for the planet despite his better judgement. It’s too fortunate; the last ‘safe’ planet they visited ended up in him protecting an entire village and the kid almost being killed. Although, he’s made a trustworthy ally who’ll assist if something were to go down. He glances behind him at the Girl, raking his brown eyes across her contorted body in the seat.

“Hang on, kid.” Mando lifts himself out of the pilot chair, leaving behind a monitoring toddler in his place, and kneels beside the Girl in the passengers. She’s sleeping peacefully and he doesn’t disturb her, despite the positioning she’s managed to get herself into. It’s unpleasant on his eyes and it couldn’t be comfortable. With a tremble in his back muscles, he reaches behind his neck and peels the cloak from his armour to drape it across her figure, relying on it to provide at least a small portion of warmth to her. She clasps the garment slightly and a smile surfaces his lips, his leathers coming up to brush a stroke across her cheek faintly—only lasting a second or two before detaching from her like an uncooperative magnet. Once she’s finally soothed back into position, Mando retrieves the safety belt from beside her and secures it across her waist before grudgingly tearing away from the Girl. “Looks like you’re with me.”

The Child squeals with enjoyment as the Mandalorian returns to his seat.

“Shh,” he instructs, glancing back to see the Girl motionless. He sighs with relief.

Mando joins the buckle’s latches together and wraps an arm around the Child to secure him against himself. The thrusters wake with a roar and quake the craft’s hull, the ion accelerator chamber thawing the thrusters nozzles of their icy barricade—shit, the ice. It’ll pose a threat, a handicap at the minimum if it doesn’t defrost soon enough. He cringes as the Crest whines against the glacier's dominance on his landing gear, but with the newly-maintenance thrusters, it’s no match against the craft. It rips from the ice and retracts to the hull’s underbelly, allowing Mando to manipulate the ship through the sky and out of the atmosphere; slabs of ice and snow descend to the ground beneath them. 

The feeble bumpiness fades into a smooth flight and Mando activates the autopilot controls. “Not so bad, huh?” He disconnects the buckle from his belt and slips out of the chair, letting the Child sit in the warm leather. “Don’t go touching things—and don’t wake her up,” he quickly adds, noting the Child’s inquisitive staring as though he hadn’t genuinely noticed her earlier. 

Mando sighs and hopes he’ll listen to his request just this once.

The Crest’s hold had been cleaned, just as the Girl promised to do, hardly even a speck of dust surfaced the floor. She’d been busy—and he had just been preoccupied with himself. Mando sighs to himself and browses through his reserved clothing. It mostly consists of bunking apparel—a couple of loose shirts and favourable pants—that he hadn’t had the opportunity to put to use since he fostered the Child. He’s expected—required to remain on the defensive at all times with the Guild breathing down his neck. 

He sorts through the articles and grabs the spare flight suit, his only other. It would be ideal to purchase another, especially now with this one having been ripped, but it wasn’t a necessity presently. The fabric in his hands smells of dirt and grime, residue from the lake he attempted to clean it in all those weeks ago, but it’s better than his current—tattered, bloody, sweaty, and cum-stained. What a combination.

Perhaps he should invest in a refresher for his Crest. That way he wouldn’t be hunched over in the dark corners of the hold, stripping the beskar steel from his body for anybody to stumble across. It didn’t provide much assurance being within eyeshot of the cockpit ladder and with the lack of places to conceal himself, his hurried movements advanced. Then again the sheer thought of the Girl seeing him like this—and joining him—isn’t unpleasant; it would make the situation a whole lot less embarrassing. 

He peels the last of his beskar from his body and stacks it against the wall, reorienting himself to slip out of his boots. It’s been a while since he last stood without any armour, excluding the helmet, and it feels refreshing in a way. But it doesn’t feel right.

Mando wasted no time in replacing the flight suit, smoothing the fabric out with his gloves and reapplying the ensemble of beskar; each patch of steel fitting snugly where it belongs. It’s slightly more bearable, not having to feel his own mess rubbing against him on the inside of the fabric, and he shoves the dirty flight suit in replace of the clean. He’ll get around to washing it when he has the time—or burn it by virtue of the rip across the arm. 

Speaking of arms, the bacta patch on his bicep had aided the wound significantly and within the next day or two, it should be healed. The lesion on his back was a different story. It’s still sore, somewhat better with a night’s rest, but it’ll be a while before he’s out there firing blasters with that same authority. It could cause jeopardy if he’s not cautious.

The Razor Crest abruptly rumbles and falls into a fit of tremors, hurling the Mandalorian against the stationary carbonite pods with fury. “Shit,” he growls and grips his bicep, pleading he won’t bleed through the fresh clothes so soon. It pulses again and the engines’ whining travels through the ventilation, discharging a high-pitched shriek followed by a low hum of a whistle.

“Man-fuck, Mando!” the Girl beckons from upstairs. Mando is quick on his feet up the ladder, clinging desperately to the rungs upon another spasm. “I was sleeping a-and the kid…” She doesn’t need to finish for him to understand, for the Child is sitting underneath the nav panel with colourful cords in his hands; wire coverings peeled away to expose the electricity hazards sparking in his fists.

“Kid, no!” Mando scolds and snatches the cables from his stubborn claws. He babbles a complaint to his guardian as he’s being relocated far away from the electricity. He’s completely dismantled it—Mando will need to implement an entirely new wiring system for the navigation controls alone; a job he’s not suited for. He turns to the Girl for support.

“Don’t look at me,” she raises her hands defensively, “I only know bits and pieces.”

Innocently burbling besides the Mandalorian, the Child watches as leather gloves track across the navigation controls urgently. He’s unbothered by the predicament they’re in—just glad that his guardian had returned to the cockpit’s cabin, it appears. Mando groans in annoyance, fumbling with the nav and fighting against it’s constant glitching. “We’re in luck. There’s a planet on the way. Tatooine. Someone can help us there.” 

“Yeah. Heard of it,” she mutters, regrettably, and he wonders what that is all about but it can wait. It wasn’t the time to sweat over the small details. “We’re not going to crash, are we?”

He contemplates, glancing over the system’s diagnosis and dismisses the electrical yammering it erupts. “Shouldn't—there’ll just be a lot of turbulence.”

That there is—turbulence and a great deal of it. There’s too much to maintain an uncoiled stomach throughout the remainder of the short flight and they’re both surprised when they’re successful in their landing, especially without the contents of their stomach having been dumped over themselves. Peli Motto—an innovative mechanic but a bit too communicatory for the Mandalorian’s preference—stands in her hangar with two greasy hands on her hips, eyes squinting through the viewport to gaze up at Mando. Better have my credits ready to go this time, he can already hear her say and he sighs. Credits he did have, but they weren’t exactly his, and there wasn’t much to spare.

“I’ll see to her,” Mando announces and retrieves the Child, “would you care to join?”

The Girl seems hesitant and peers out the viewport curiously. “Do you trust her?”

Mando takes another glance outside. Peli’s droids are nearing his ship to begin operations but with one stern look from the woman, they back away from the craft. “I do.”

The Girl sighs and peels herself from her seat, fiddling with the cloak that had been laid across her body earlier. “This, uh-”

“Clip it on for me,” he instructs and turns, waiting for familiar hands to run across his shoulders. It takes a moment and he considers retrieving it himself, but he’s patient and it pays off—her fingers playing with the neck covering to manipulate the cloak into place, her digits stroking against the back of his neck underneath all the thick fabric. It’s therapeutic somehow or other. He doesn’t quite understand it himself, but feeling the Girl’s pressure against him relaxes him; eases his eyes closed until all he wants to do is sleep, in her arms preferably and with his head on her chest—his head, not his helmet. Mando wants to press his ear against her flesh and listen to her heartbeat, her breathing, but most of all he just wants to be touched and to touch another.

The Girl smoothes her hands out across the cloak, running her palm down his back and ending just before it reaches the curve at the bottom. “There you go.” She smiles. Fuck, her smile. It makes him want to say something stupid, something embarrassing just to get the same reaction out of her; he wants to be the cause of that smile on her face. She adds, “Thank you.”

Mando twists to face her again, his head tilting. “What for?”

“Buckling me up and, uh, giving me the cloak,” she confesses, a timid hue of pink on her cheeks—she was blushing. “You could have given it to the kid or just kept it yourself, but… you didn’t. So, thank you.”

He swallows and reaches his hand up—for what, he doesn’t know. It’s not until his digits touch the soft padding of her cheek that he notices he’s making a move, his strokes transforming into uncertain shakes. The Girl’s blush deepens at the contact and she places her hand atop his, giving a quick squeeze of reassurance.

With that, his head is back to sorting through indecent thoughts and actions—but none are related to those they had been previously; they’re not obscene nor lustful. It’s his Creed that they’re unethical towards. He imagines the Girl reaching for his helmet, her slender fingers brushing against his chin as she does so, and lifts the steel to unmask the face that’s been sealed away for a long, long time. If she tried to do it right here, right now, he’s not positive whether he would stop her.

“We shouldn’t keep her waiting, it’ll be rude.”

She can wait, is what he wants to say, instead, he murmurs a simple, “Right.”

The Child appears satisfied in Peli’s arms, a large smile on his face as he glares up at the Mandalorian ahead of him. He’s receiving every ounce of attention he can muster out of the woman. “You telling me this little one did all that? Maybe if you gave him a little more attention he wouldn’t be tearing out your cables!”

“What do you mean?” Mando ponders. She runs a finger across the kid’s batwing ears and gestures behind him in the distance where the Girl preoccupies herself tending to their blasters. “What are you getting at?”

“Oh, come on! Do I have to spell it out for you? Are you that oblivious?” She sighs and soothes the Child, “You’ve found yourself another lifeform to harbour—probably spending an awful lot of time with her, aren’t ya?”

He’s not oblivious, not in the slightest; he’s just trying to avoid coming to terms with the thoughts in his head. However, he hadn’t noticed his lack of bonding with the Child and he mentally scolds himself. Of course, the kid wants attention, all kids do, and he’s probably becoming rather frustrated at the inadvertent neglect as a by-product of Mando’s fantasies. 

“I ain’t saying ya shouldn’t indulge a little,” Peli chuckles and wags her hairless eyebrows at the visor, “I don’t blame ya for that. It must be hard adapting to having a girl like that on board your ship.”

Mando quietly sighs under his helmet but a blush lines his cheeks nonetheless. He’s relieved she can’t see it. He grumbles, “Get to the point.”

“Point is, you can’t ignore a child like that,” she explains, “he’s an impish little critter—smart, too. It wouldn’t surprise me if he did that on purpose to get your attention.”

“He’s costing me a lot of credits for attention.” Black-brown eyes observe the looming figure of beskar and Mando softens slightly. Peli watches with interest and returns the toddler to his arms. “The Girl-”

“She’ll be fine,” she assures, “if she wants to help, I’ll be sure to give her a real workout—don’t worry she won’t be too drained.”

The Mandalorian commits a final leer at the mechanic, enough to cause her to pull her lips tight into a smirk, and he returns to the Girl’s side to exchange his goodbyes, “I’m going to head into town and see if there are any jobs available.” 

The Girl raises an eyebrow in question and pauses polishing the blasters, “I’m not coming with you?”

Does she want to come with him? The vocoder emits a hum of thought but ultimately he knows she should stay behind this time, “Peli reckons I should spend time with the kid. Shouldn’t take too long—I’ll just head in and grab the kid a meal, look around for intel… I’ll be back before it’s dark.”

She nods, understanding. “I’ll—just wait here then.”

Mando reciprocates her nod and hesitantly steps back, but the Girl’s fingers loop through his belt and draws him in close to her once again. He steadies himself with a hand on the dip of her waist, digits unconsciously poking into the flesh deeper, and he angles the helmet to her eye level in disarray. 

The familiar weight of his blaster slips into position against his thigh but he doesn’t tear his eyes away to look, he doesn’t want to move at all. “Might need it,” she explains, her tone hushed, “it’s good to go.” She lightly taps the blaster with her free hand and he stiffens when her palm comes to rest atop it, the tips of her fingers brushing against the outside of his thigh.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” Her lips curl into a cunning grin and she tries to hide it by lifting herself onto her toes and breathing through the fabric surrounding his neck. Mando’s muscles flex involuntarily and the hand on her hip slinks a path to the curve of her back, where he fists a bundle of poncho fabric in his leathers. She whispers, “How’s your back feeling?”

“It’s - it’s better.”

She exhales softly and he swears he can feel it through the cloth, warming his jugular with her gleaming words, “So, you won’t be needing my help tonight?” Mando groans as she weakly pats the lesion deep underneath his cloak—it doesn’t hurt, more or less stings like a Droch crawling through his skin and draining his energy, but that was the Girl’s disposition more so than the wound’s sensitivity. 

“Well,” Mando clears his throat and steps closer—if that’s even possible—so his lower-half is pressing against her waist, evoking a hitch of his own breath from the contact. She’s so soft against him. “I might need a hand…”

She chuckles into his neck, sending the vibrations from her throat into his and it makes a beeline to his heart. It vortexes around the organ, a current so strong it’d be fatal to terminate the stream. Not that he wanted to stop it. It’s such a pleasant feeling, the phantoms of sunshine-esque tendrils applying a pacifying pressure that feels like that of an embrace; warm hands clasping his heart and delivering delicate kisses across the muscle. He can almost sense the cushioning of lips against the pulsing organ.

“Ya know, I’ve got more than just hands.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, practically drooling at the mere suggestion—he’d be so sluggish to drag it out as long as possible, every single touch of his deliberate to commit all her curves, bumps, even bruises, to memory. Store it away for a gloomy day, like a breach in the clouds; sunbeams breaking through the overcast and introducing a warmth like none other. 

Mando cranes his neck to the side slightly and she takes the invite to burrow deeper. The blood in his neck is hot and the air in his helmet sultry. He wants to do nothing but drag her back to the ship and lock themselves away for the remainder of the day, but the irritated child on his hip is starting to get antsy. Mando gasps, “Need to - to take the kid out.”

She hums her sympathy against his neck, “Take your time. I’ll be here.”

Well, time was indeed taken, or however the saying goes.

The Mandalorian had been forced into conversations all day courtesy of the Child; he just couldn’t seem to stop touching things or feeding on display products of each stall they’d pass. Mando’s entire vocabulary had been decreased to continuous sorry’s and kid, no! It doesn’t just end there. The Child was inquisitive of all his surroundings, particularly places Mando couldn’t fit himself—it made for some awkward dialogue between him and the kiosk attendants when he’d be on his hands and knees rummaging around for a loose alien baby.

“I’m not stealing!” He’d reassure but it’d have the opposite effect and turn heads, people eyeing him with curiosity; a Mandalorian, like that in folklore, frantically chasing a little green toddler with something half-alive dangling from its mouth. He’s made a fool out of himself enough for a day. The Child, on the other hand, is still persistent—giving him somewhat of the silent treatment until Mando bargains a promise of food. 

The Child attentively watches his food in the arms of the server, streaks of steam and a tender fragrance wafting in his direction as it settles onto the table ahead. “Thank you,” Mando nods and leans back in his seat, unequipping a small bag of leftover credits he could spare for the day and sliding it across the wooden surface, “do you know of any employment opportunities?”

“Regrettably not, sir,” the waiter replies and exchanges final pleasantries before returning behind the buffet to assist an unruly patron.

Mando sighs and returns his guard to the Child—who grabs a spoonful of scalding liquid and squeals in delight—and chews on the inside of his lip in thought. Tatooine is just as detestable as the last time he was here—the hustle and bustle never-ending. One would think that the Mandalorian could blend in with such an immense and diverse population, but his outright existence drew attention to himself; it’s becoming a ritual each time he steps foot inside a cantina. People’s discussions quickly cease as they scrutinise the warrior upon his entrance, contemplating whether they could neutralize him and pry the beskar steel from his body to sell in the black market. Some have tried and failed, of course. In his youth, Mando thrived off the sensation. It was empowering to have others tremble in their skin at the sheer sight of a Mandalorian, but he’s matured and those days are long since dead. He’s travel-worn, too exhausted to concern himself with people’s thoughts regarding him, so long as they weren’t orchestrating his downfall. 

“I ain’t never seen a thing like this before,” a disembodied voice mutters from behind the Mandalorian, the shoddy cantina lighting casting a shadow across their table. Mando doesn’t tear his attention from the Child but reaches for his blaster nonetheless, the leathers fiddling with the hilt in preparation. “Where’d you get it?”

When he doesn’t reply, the figure shifts to come between him and the Child—a trandoshan with wide-set eyes and sharp pointed teeth, sneering at the man underneath the beskar. She’s got yellow-brown scaly skin and dons a protective piece underneath an unbuttoned shirt, with a hunting rifle across her back and a carbine strapped to her belt. She steals a chair from the closest table and swings it around to join the pair, placing her elbows on the table and looking back-and-forth between Mando and the Child.

“We’re looking to raise a youngling like this, maybe something a lil’ bit more competent than this one.” The Child’s green ears perk up at the stranger but just as quickly dismisses her, plunging the spoon into the womp rat stew for seconds or thirds—Mando wasn’t keeping track. She glances behind Mando and waves a hand and calls, “Bookoo, what d’ya think?”

Bookoo—a Wookiee decked with nothing more than a dual bandolier across his chest and a small satchel at his hip—appears into view, soaring over the accumulated individuals and extends a welcoming smile at Mando underneath the shaggy rug of his face. “Muawa, ur oh.”

“No? What, you think we’re gonna get anything better?”

Mando interrupts, tired of the banter, “He’s not going with you.”

“We have credits,” she taps the satchel on Bookoo’s hip, they clash against one another inside the leather.

“He’s not for sale.” Mando tears himself from his seat and shepherds the Child into his arms, ignoring the burbles and whines he emits as he tries to grab hold of the bowl. Mando turns for the exit, intently listening to the whispers of the pair behind him, but stops when called for.

“Uh-sir... Mandalorian, sir?” He turns on his heels and eyes the waiter who places two small packages stacked together atop the counter. “Your dessert, sir.”

The Trandoshan eyes the Mandalorian as he awkwardly balances the boxes in one arm and the Child in the other. She steps forwards once his hands are far from his blaster to make her claim, “I promised my group I’d bring back an apprentice, ya see? With a lil’ bit of training, that thing should be good to go. Ain’t that right, Bookoo?”

Bookoo steps back defensively, “Mu waa waa.”

“Stupid Wookiee,” she mutters and rises from her stool, her bare feet tapping against the cantina’s duracrete flooring. She places a claw on the counter in an attempt of intimidation, but she only sustains a pathetic reaction from the waiter. “What’s a Mandalorian need a child for anyways? You raising that thing to become one?”

“We’re done talking.”

“Aw, come on. We’re just having a small chat. No need to run for the dunes.”

The Mandalorian denies her the satisfaction of retaliation and continues outside. The familiar crunch of grit a welcoming sound through his filters—he never thought he’d be comforted by such a sound. The Trandoshan yells one last remark before he steers a corner, “If you change your mind, we’ll be here!”

He’s suspicious of their intentions—and uncertain whether they were tailing him—so he weaves through the night crowd, bumping and pushing the drunkards to and fro. Once he’s scampered plenty, and positive they hadn’t been stalking his footsteps, he returns to Peli’s hangar with a drowsy Child and now-cold dessert. Optimally, the kid will be tuckered out for the rest of the night but it was never a certainty—he just hopes he’ll give him some privacy for at least a few hours.

Peli wipes grease on a rag hanging from a belt hoop of her coveralls and offers Mando a smile, “I assume you got yourself a job?”

Mando shakes his head in defeat and delivers one of the takeaway boxes in her hands.

“What’s this?” She opens the box and her eyes practically light up with joy but it’s short-lived as she eyes him suspiciously, “Is this a bribe?”

“Just a nice gesture. I thought.”

“Hmm,” Peli hums and closes the box, nodding her head slightly. “Well, ‘bout that ship of yours… It’ll be two thousand.”

Two thousand. It’ll bleed their funds dry, but the Crest needs repairs. Without them, they’d be stranded here on Tatooine for the unforeseeable future—something Mando really couldn’t accommodate. There’s too much sand. Too many people. His calloused hands aren’t for sitting on; they’re created to work, and he won’t allow himself to leisure around a planet without performing some act. 

The Girl won’t be pleased to hear he’s gone and spent a large sum of her earnings—not to mention how she’ll react when she ultimately comprehends she will be required to stay a little longer than expected. Mando feels his lips curling and he tries to smother it with reasoning; tries to tell himself he can’t keep her detained alongside him forever, but he’s obstinate and doesn’t take heed of his own advice. There’s a leap in his heart and a twisting in his stomach at the thought she’ll remain beside him for a little while longer—at least until he has the credits.

Perhaps the Child was onto something when he went and ripped all those wires out.

“That’s with a discount,” Peli adds.

“I should buy more of those.”

Peli scoffs at his jesting comment and tosses the takeaway parcel atop a flat surface. “The Girl. She’s good with her hands.”

If only she knew.

Something within the mechanic suggests that she does, in fact, know judging by the speculation written across her face; her squinted eyes waltzing his figure and her teeth chomping on the inside of her cheek to avoid voicing a sarcastic comment. The shield of beskar may disrupt his facial expressions—concealing them to only his cognisance—but his mannerisms are increasingly heightened to others and he’s gradually realising he’s not as proficient in masking them as he originally thought. 

Mando swallows a thick lump in his throat and shifts his weight to one foot, his hip cocking out vaguely. “Is the maintenance finished?” he asks, shifting the topic to something he can reduce the awkwardness with.

Peli clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes, “Oh, you mean the replacement of the entire navigational controls? Yeah, did it all by myself in a matter of a few hours. No help from my droids. No, it’s not done! Do you know anything about spacecraft restoration?”

“I typically leave that in the hands of...professionals.” Mando chooses carefully. “When will it be ready?”

“Me and your Girl are done for the night.”

His Girl?

Mando’s cheeks flush mildly, a faint tint of pink lining across his nose accompanied by a heat tackling the inside of his visor. Those two little words sound exceptional as the settle surrounding him, fogging his head with the seven letters—seven letters that he couldn’t relate to. They don’t belong to him; wouldn’t belong to him.

But he lets himself fantasise they could—they are.

His Girl. 

Mando’s lips ghost underneath the beskar, mouthing the words to himself as though to test the waters; dipping his toes in the substance and sampling the texture before sinking into it, letting it engulf him. He thinks of His Girl’s lips and how soft, how gentle, they looked. Her lips are the sandy borders of a beach—sand he wouldn’t mind if it were to wedge its way through his flight suit to abuse his body— and her tongue, her saliva, are the waters; refreshing but salty, leaving him thirsty for more.

Peli drags him out of his daydreaming without realising it, “But it should be up and running before the suns’ at its peaks. So you better have my credits ready! I’m not free labour, ya know.”

“Don’t worry,” he groans, “you’ll get the payment.”

She crosses her arms taut over her chest and squints at him suspiciously, probably wondering how he’s going to manage to pay her, but her determination fades into moderate compassion with a deep exhale. “All right, gimme the kid.”

“What? Why?”

Her earthy eyes flick up to the cockpit’s viewport and Mando twists his body to observe. The top of the Girl’s head can be seen from his perspective, her arms raised high above her in a stretch and then just as quickly disappears out of sight. Peli teasingly shoves Mando’s shoulder and laughs, “Go on, I’ll take the kid for the night. I’ll even do it for free; reimbursement for the dessert.”

She’s a blessing in disguise—who’s he to decline such a persuasive offer? 

“Just-” Peli stabilises the weight in her arms, the Child placidly dozing off in one, “I better not be hearing all that, okay? If you wake either me or the kid up-”

“Thank you.”

She watches him, stunned, and then shakes her head and mutters something under her breath. Mando doesn’t even feel tempted to know what she’s whispering to herself, he only has one thought on his mind: His Girl.

The Mandalorian reunites with the Girl in the cockpit’s cabin. She’s sitting on the floor tinkering with loose cabling with a craned neck to accommodate for the low-rise control board. Mando’s unsure whether he’s delighted to see her down there or disappointed; something within him expecting her to be somewhere less uncomfortable, awaiting his return—it’s a selfish thought and a very hormonal one at that. He sighs to himself and sits in the passenger’s seat, his elbows leaning on his knees to peer over her shoulder. “I thought Peli said you were finished?” Mando queries.

“She’s finished. I’m not.”

Mando breathes her name, introducing it to the cramped cockpit and it’s stale air, and she pauses a moment to turn her head and look into the magnetising visor. Now he’s the one pausing. It’s comical how he’s so easily conquered by a single glance. She doesn’t look at him like that in holoplays—where her eyes gleam in the low light hanging above and her mouth twitches when she’s restraining a smile—so why does his heart flutter and his blood surge through his veins? Rather, her eyebrows are crinkled with discouragement on account of uncooperative cords and there’s a streak of oil across her forehead—she looks just as gorgeous as ever. 

Mando’s voice softens as he talks to her, “Take a break. It can wait until morning.”

She dismisses his recommendation, “It’s fine, I can keep going.”

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

“Quoting me to myself now, are we?” 

He shrugs his shoulders. “You’re persuasive.” She chuckles some and he delves into the rumbles, enveloping himself in the bubbliness of it. “I brought food. You can have some if you stop working.”

She quirks an eyebrow and eyes the package in his leathers. “What is it?”

“Come here and look.”

“Are you having some?”

Mando contemplates, but he already knows his answer. “I’m not hungry,” he lies.

“Neither am I.” She deceitfully smiles and returns to her labours—it’s arduous, her fingers firmly twining the wires together and unravelling others apart to reconnect to a bundle loosely hanging underneath the panel.

The Mandalorian had completely forgotten how stubborn she can be, especially with his thoughts distorted by the events of last night; she had been so adaptable and willing to aid him. It’s ridiculous to think they’re the same person. Jaw clenching with defeat, Mando sighs heavily and fiddles with the takeaway box. It’s lid lifts from its fastenings to expose a small stack of fluffy cobalt-coloured pancakes. They’re slightly soggy from the absorbed condiments and stone-cold, having been outside for far too long, but they’re a Tatooine delicacy he had yet to try before. 

Mando glances at the Girl and rips the pancake into sections, simultaneously watching her exhaust herself. She groans dramatically and readjusts her position, practically laying on her stomach with her torso hoisted by her elbows. It allows for her to maneuver underneath the control panels—and allows Mando to drag his eyes lower. 

His leathers slide underneath the bottom of his helm and dislodge it from position, the beskar expelling a sharp hiss of air. He freezes at the reminder but the Girl doesn’t seem interested in the newly discovered noise; he continues, elevating the hindrance just above his mouth to slot in a slice of torn pancake.

They’re soft like her hands and he lets himself imagine they are—pretends the sweetness of the syrup is actually his cum on her fingers or, better yet, her own slick. He’s reluctant to even chew, not wanting to shred the impure fantasy he’s created upon himself, so he doesn’t. Mando sits there with the pancake in his mouth just holding it there, letting his tongue flatten underneath it and suck the syrup out to relish in the bittersweetness. 

It’s only once he’s drained it of its flavour that he finally devours the cake in hunger. It’d been a while since he last ate, but he repeats the process with the other sections he had torn apart—struggling to contain his self-control as he savours the sweetness and imagery of the Girl writhing underneath him. 

Mando plops the tips of his leathers in his mouth and absorbs the residual syrup before aligning his helmet in place yet again, his hunger reasonably quenched—his thirst for the Girl, not so much. It doesn’t help matters when she reaches for a cord and her poncho rides up, unmasking the curves of her backside and revealing a splinters-worth of skin above the hem of her pants. He indulges at the sight of taunting skin and licks a drop of syrup from his lips, imagining his head between her thighs lapping at something sweeter—tangier. Mando feels so fucking undignified around her like his honour has been squeezed out of an over-absorbed rag; dripping through the gaps in his fingers and there’s nothing he can do to catch it before it vaporises before his eyes hardly leaving a trace in its wake.

It’s wholly improper how his eyes attack her unclothed skin, obsessing over it like a glass of water in the outskirts of Tatooine. Now that he thinks about it, his mouth is significantly parched and he’s forced to bite his lip to avoid reaching out for the temptation. Still, he hungers to run his fingers across the bare flesh and explore her bumps and curves with his tongue, dragging it over her neck and feel the rumbles of her moans as he sucked on a pulsing vein. Her moans—what a magnificent sound that must be.

The unspoken promise between them plays with the dark crevices of his imagination.

I’ve got more than hands.

Mando’s unsure if she meant it; she hadn’t indicated anything to him since his return. Is she expecting him to make the first move? If so, that’s torturous in itself.

Coffee-coloured eyes battle against the azure cakes and he confronts a moral dilemma. He has an inclination to satisfy the building arousal in his pants but it doesn’t align with his traitorous voice, “Eat.”

The Girl glances over her shoulder and Lord, he could get used to that view especially with him atop of her. She reverts her gaze to the opened box in his lap. “I’m not-”

“I’ve had one,” he confesses and tilts the box to show a stack of three remainders, “two each, but you can have my other.”

“When did you… Did you take off your helmet? In front of me?”

“Behind you,” he corrects.

She doesn’t find the humour in the situation, though, which surprises Mando. “What - what about your Creed? Fuck, Mando. You can’t…”

His expression softens underneath the visor and he sinks to his knees on the ground so he’s eye-level with the Girl, clasping one of her hands in his leathers. “Don’t concern yourself with that. I didn’t remove it entirely, just enough to eat. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal? Mando-”

Mando impolitely interrupts her by pushing a torn slab of blue through her parted lips—his digits lingering longer than necessary—and he chuckles at her shocked grimace. 

She swallows and slaps his pauldron, “Rude!”

“Sit down and eat.” 

The Girl conforms to his invitation and settles beside him, her back firmly planted against the durasteel wall of the cockpit. Mando awkwardly lowers to sit as well, the beskar clanking against the wall behind them but he doesn’t take any notice of it. It’d be like herding a group of Nexu—utterly impossible—if he tried to concentrate on anything but her thigh against his or her hand digging through the box on his lap. 

She munches on a blue cake beside him and it takes everything in him to give her privacy and not drool over the sticky syrup running down her fingers. It’s like she can read him though, her unsoiled hand hooking two fingers on the underside of the helmet and dragging it to look at her. “What about you?”

“I’ve...had one.” 

“One. I don’t want you passing out on me. Here, I’ll look away.” 

Mando eyes the divided dessert between her fingers and the drop of golden syrup slowly making way to her third knuckle. She’s not looking at him and can’t identify whether he’s accepting her offer or not, but she doesn’t dare retract her hand; it just hovers in the air waiting for his leathers to grasp the food from her—they don’t. Something so much softer does, though.

Mando licks a long stripe along the underside of her fingers, tearing the pancake from her clutch with his tongue and reserving it in the cheek of his mouth for later—too preoccupied with the sugary concentrate coating her fingers. She tenses at the sensations. It’s overwhelming, consuming her thoughts and spitting them out in a pile of goo. It’s almost irresistible to not look at him, to not watch as he sucks on her fingers so fucking desperately, but she’s respectful of his Creed even if it kills her.

“Mando,” she whispers because it’s too quiet, too real. 

His tongue is persistent, parting her fingers from each other and lapping at the syrup in the crevices of her knuckles. It’s so sweet and he moans around her fingers at the taste on the back of his tongue. Mando doesn’t concern himself with the potential of humiliation—he ought to look downright laughable right now—because she’s so sweet and soft in his mouth, far superior to the pancake he relished earlier. There’s a puny attempt to pull away on her behalf but with a firm grip on her wrist, she holds her position inside his mouth, especially when his teeth lock her digits in place, while her other hand finds the plate of thigh armour and hooks the fingers underneath.

“Shit,” she breathes and leans into him.

The Girl’s palm flattens against his chin and he stiffens his jaw, his movements slacking behind now that he’s focused on the warmth on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him so tenderly, no - he could but he didn’t want to; didn’t want to ruin the moment with the imagery of blaster fire and his mother’s last loving touch.

Her reassuring strokes against his cheeks with her free fingers urge him on and he sucked the final of the syrup from her digits before freeing them from his lips, placing a peck on the tips. Once the helmet is resealed, he finishes the neglected pancake in his mouth.

“You’re not as reserved as you act,” she chuckles, “where was that last night?”

Mando smiles. “Come here and let me show you.”

Where was all this confidence coming from?

He doesn’t care—he’s making a fucking move while he can.

The Girl contemplates him with a raised brow and a small smirk toying at her lips. It makes him want to know what she’s thinking—formulating—in that head of hers, but he’s not left in suspense for long. She braces a leg over his lap and straddles him, constricting her inner thighs against the outside of his and tilting his helmet back to look up at her. 

Mando nearly stops breathing, his organs refusing to cooperate in unison with such an unknown weight atop of him. All that confidence from earlier completely obliterates with just one roll of her hips—maybe it wasn’t confidence but arrogance, he thinks. She’s devious, he can see the pleasure in her eyes at his unfolding below her.

“Are you looking at me?” she asks, a hand on either side of his helmet to steady his head.

He nods because he doesn’t trust himself not to whine if he opens his mouth.

She looks back at him and for a moment, just a second, he feels as though she can see him, and then she grinds down and sketches the outline of his stiffening cock below her heat—and fuck if it isn’t one of the friskiest things he’s ever beared witness to. There’s just something so unique about the eye contact when she’s unravelling him like a ball of yarn; he wants to gaze into her eyes without the guard ahead of him and break her apart. “F-fuck, you’re,”-she rolls her hips again, faster-“ah, you’re too - too good to me.”

“I know,” she quips.

Daunting. It’s so fucking daunting being so paralysed with arousal underneath the Girl, stripped down to an accumulated pile of whimpers and twitches as she takes her sweet time tormenting him—and he fucking enjoys every second of it. He’s fatigued from years of bounty hunting, years of being shot, stabbed, beaten, and it’s stimulating having somebody touch him so languidly and voluntarily care for him in such a way.

“Tell me what you want, Mando.”

He swallows.

It’s so fucking ironic. He’s never had more than a few thousand credits to his name at a time and yet, pinned below the Girl with her being so provocative, he feels like the richest man alive—because it couldn’t be luck; he’d never been so fortunate to as receiving a simple bounty commission, a beautiful girl extracting every drop of arousal out of him no less.

He moans her name and inches his fingers under her poncho, “Want - fuck, I need-”

Mando’s pleas are interrupted by a suspiciously familiar disembodied voice shouting, “Come on out and nobody gets hurt!” It’s a gruff, hoarse sound that oils the cogs in his mind. The Trandoshan. She must’ve followed him here…but he took precautions…

He can’t find it within himself to tear his hands away from the Girl to survey the threat outside, so she takes it upon herself to clamber off his lap leaving him cold and hard in his pants. Molten lava rises in his chest as he raises to his feet, staring out the viewport with such vengeance it almost surprises him. The Trandoshan firmly stands with Peli Motto beside her, the barrel of her carbine pressed against her temple, and the Child squirming in her adjacent limb.

“Shit!” he growls and slams a pair of closed fists against the nav controls. It whines upon impact and blips a malfunctioning screen at his outburst.

“Hey, calm down,” she soothes, a hand slipping into his.

“They have Peli! ...The kid.”

The Trandoshan leers at him through the viewport. “Leave that blaster of yours on the ship and get down ‘ere. No funny business either! I’ll fire a hole through her head otherwise. Then the Kid’s.” She accentuates her point by thrusting the barrel against Peli’s temple harder.

The Girl fishes his blaster out of his holster. “They haven’t seen me,” she explains. “I’ll wait until you get close enough to them but don’t try anything without me.”

It could work. It could fail. He didn’t have an alternative plan.

“Okay,” he agrees, understanding the moment between them is long gone.

With one final gawp outside, Mando pries himself away from the nav controls and heads downstairs, bare. It’s not as though he’s completely defenceless; the flamethrower in his vambraces had enough fuel to get him out of a pinch, the whipcord could serve a purpose if essential, and he still possessed his vibro-knife in his boot. None of that can compare to the comfort of a blaster in his hand though.

The Child and Peli Motto’s safety is his priority, so he’ll comply with the Girl’s strategy and get as close to the Trandoshan as possible. He’ll use brute force if necessary.

They’ve relocated to an open region in the hangar where it’ll be near impossible to shield everybody if a blaster fight ensues. Preferably, it won’t come to that. The Trandoshan flexes her finger against the trigger when Peli fidgets with her hands beside her. Mando vaguely shakes his head in her direction and examines the Child’s wellbeing in the yellow-brown scaly arms.

“I’m here.” He raises his hands to demonstrate his compliance, “Let them go and we’ll talk.”

She sneers at him, laughs. “No.” The blaster reels back and whips Peli over the head, knocking her unconscious in a piled heap on the ground. Mando moves forwards, his fists tightening with each step. “Hold it right there.” The Child whines against the cold barrel pressing into his wrinkled forehead. Mando stops hastily, his eyebrows twitching with rage.

“What do you want?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“What do you need a child for?”

She smiles hauntingly, her sharp teeth locking together through her open-mouthed grin. “We don’t need one, but this one’s got a pricey bounty on its head,”—she aims for the flesh above his heart plate—“as do you.”

Guild members. Just his luck they’d be situated on Tatooine at the same time as he is.

The Mandalorian’s visor tilts to the Child in her arms, his eyes narrowing on the outstretched green claw. The kid’s eyes shut and his forehead wrinkles as he desperately tries to concentrate on something, and then it clicks in Mando’s head. His powers. The Child hadn’t used them since they took down the Mudhorn and Mando was beginning to think they had vanished, but they mustn’t have—he’s too focused on the air ahead of him.

The Trandoshan hasn’t noticed his fidgeting and Mando takes it upon himself to keep the barrel focused on him by stepping forwards, providing the Child time to figure out his abilities. “You won’t leave here alive,” he taunts.

She seems unfazed by his remarks, too confident in her plans. “Ah, what do we have here?” The Trandoshan asks curiously, peering over the Mandalorian’s figure and he whips his head to follow. The Girl is subdued in the arms of the acquainted Bookoo, who must’ve been anticipating resistance and remained obscured from their sight. 

The Girl fights against his grip but he’s far too strong for her to overpower and she limps in defeat, glancing up behind her at the Wookiee; eyes enlarging and her mouth falling agape underneath the face-covering she donned for the occasion.

Then—the last thing the Mandalorian expects to hear—the Trandoshan exclaims her name in a greeting, “It’s been a while!”

_______________________________

“Muawa, ur oh” - no, thank you “Mu waa waa” - please leave me alone

A/N: Good lord I am so sorry for an 8k chapter, I really didn’t want to split it into two. However, with this one being so long the next might not be out until the middle of next week (if I can manage to actually concentrate for long enough to write). Let me know how you enjoyed it and if you want to be added to the taglist! PS I’m running of gifs...please help...what do yall search for such hd gifs?

taglist: @ohhersheybars​​, @greatcircle79​​

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #mando x you #mando x reader #mando x y/n #din djarin #grogu #peli motto #fan fiction #star wars #star wars fic #star wars fan fiction #star wars smut #mandalorian smut #smut #din djarin smut #cw smut #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x y/n #mando/reader #mando/you #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #lunar fic #baby yoda

[taylorsage22]

Shy (Mick Rory x Shy! Reader.

Request-Hi, can you write Mick Rory x shy! reader smut? Thank you🖤.

A/N-I Hope you like it. 

Warning-Smut. 

          You were always a timid, shy person. Your face would turn as red as a cherry anytime anyone spoke to you and your voice  would come out wobbly and quiet.  The team has gotten used to your quiet voice and always knew not to call you out on it or else you’d get even more shy and embarrassed.

     Everyone knew you were shy and were like a turtle that liked to stay in your shell. Mick Rory has brought you out of that shell, little by little really everyone on the team wonders how he did it. He loves how shy and quiet you are.  And he also loves to see you initiate a conversion on your own especially if its with him.

    It took you  quite a while to get used to everybody and the first time you let yourself laugh uncontrollably without a care it made Mick fall in love with you.

    You were sitting in Micks room in the Waverider, cuddling after your movie had ended. The final credit rolled off the screen and you stretched out sighing. “Why did you make me watch that?’’ Mick ask even though he was happy to just hold you for an hour and a half. “I liked Olaf didn't you?’’ you said with a sight giggle which made you snort. 

    “What was that?’’ He ask chuckling. You blushed and giggled a little more. “Stoooop.” You playfully whined, lightly hitting Micks big chest. “Nope.” Mick Says back, pulling you fully into his lap.

     You giggled a little more, feeling Micks big hands rest on your sides. “Your so gorgeous, Y/n.’’ Mick says looking straight into your eyes. Your cheeks burned bright red and you hid your face with your hands. “You look cute when you blush.’’ Mick chuckled, rubbing your sides. 

    A loud string of laughter came from your mouth at the sudden action your body writhing slightly. “Mickkk, That tickles.’’ you whined, pouting as you moved Micks hands away from you. Mick smirked and raised his eyebrows at you.  “Really.’’  Mick teasingly asked. 

      You felt his fingers dig into your sides and you squealed out, laughing harder as he continued. You gasped for air, writhing around in his lap. He laughed with you as you tried to push his strong hands away but he didnt budge. His eyes remained on you as he felt his heart flutter in his chest. 

   “S-stop, ple-eeaaasse!’’ You squealed while you laughed so hard tears filled your eyes. Micks fingers slowed to a stop as you breathed heavily,  collapsing into Micks chest. 

   Mick went silent and you caught your breath, looking up at him. Your sides burned from the tickle session. Mick was staring at you smile on his face. “What?’’ you softly ask. “I love you.” Mick said. 

     Your eyes widened and your mouth opened slightly, “Y-you do?’’ you asked, getting shy again  ”So damn much.’’  Mick said pulling you in for a kiss. You kissed mick back, a small smile making its way onto your face.  you pulled away gasping for air “I love you to Mick.’’ you said quietly. 

Micks eyes remained glued on your face as he slowly leaned into your neck. You nervously sat there, anxious for his next move. A small gasp fell from your lips as you felt Mick press a kiss to your neck. Your eyes fluttered closed as he pulled away just enough to let his tongue trace little circles against your pulse point. “Mick.” you whispered breathlessly. 

Your shy nature caused your cheeks to turn bright red. “Y/n, let me show you how much I love you.” Mick whispered into your ear, causing you to shiver.  You opened your eyes and nodded slightly. “o-okay.’’ you said softly.

    He pulled away from your neck and saw something in your eyes that caused him to ask. “Are you sure? We don't have to.” You shook your head quickly “No! No, I want to. Its just I'm too shy. I don't have much experience.’’ You said quietly, feeling ashamed. “Y/n, that's okay. I don't care. I love how shy you are.’’ Mick said words full of emotion.

   You smiled and bit your lip. Mick looked at lips and brought his thumb to them, slowly pulling your bottom lip from underneath your teeth. “Bout’ you tonight.’’ Mick said as  softly as  you usually speak making you feel especially loved. 

     You blushed and nodded, holding onto Mick as he stood with you clinging to him. Mick carried you to his bed from his little couch in his bedroom. Mick gently put you down on your back before hovering above you. He smiled down at you and began to lift your shirt up, his hand rubbing the smooth skin exposed to him. 

      His hand slid further up your shirt as he looks into your eyes asking the silent question if that was okay. You nodded and as the goosebumps covering your skin from the cool air in the room, as you lean up so Mick could take your shirt off and he nearly groaned just looking at you.

    You  shyly crossed your arms over your chest wishing you hadnt worn such a girly purple bra. Mick frowned, pulling your arms away. “Gorgeous.’’ Mick Whispered leaning down to kiss your collarbone.  You felt Mick raise your arms above your head adding a little pressure as he gripped your wrists. Micks lips made their way to the top of your left breast and you gasped, closing your eyes for a split second.

   You quickly opened them, watching as Mick licked a strip up your cleavage. “So soft.’’ He grunted quietly.  He gently removed your bra making eye contact the whole time. The cool air caused your nipples to harden and Mick let out a small groan at the sight. Leaning down to capture one in his mouth. You let out a squeak and Mick groaned even louder grazing his teeth against your nipple. 

   “You can be loud.” Mick said in a sultry tone as he pulled away from your breast. 

                      You were a sweaty and loud moaning mess, your hands gripping the bed sheets so hard your knuckles were turning white as Mick worked his tongue around your clit. You could feel him groan against you everytime you squirmed.

  “ M-mick im gonna-” you whimpered out, arching your back. The pleasure spread throughout your whole body as Mick continued to lick and suck on your pussy. Micks strong arm held your hips down as you writhed around on the around on the bed. Mick cleaned you up with his tongue and kissed his way up your stomach. “Mm, You taste so innocent.’’ Mick said, nipping at your skin.

    Your breathing was heavy and deep, your head still spinning from your orgasm. “You’re good at that.’’ You said breathlessly. Mick chuckled deeply. “Mmm’’ he said resting in between your legs.  You bit your lip and looked down at Mick’s still covered cock. “ Do you want to go further?’’ Mick asked making sure you wanted to do it still. You nodded and that's all Mick needed to continue. You whimpered craving to feel him inside you. Mick Pulled off his boxers. His erection springing free and you gasped Mick chuckled, taking it in his hand.

   The tip was red and you could tell he was ready to chase his own release. Mick aligned himself in between your legs, rubbing the tip against your sensitive clit. Your hips jerked a tad at the contact and you whimpered. “I love the sounds  you make.” Mick said lowly, grabbing your hands and holding them above your head.

      You whined impatiently, rubbing your wet pussy against Micks hard cock, “ Mick please.” you softly begged. Mick smirked and started to slip himself inside of you slowly and carefully. You gasped and your eyes momentarily rolled into the back of your head.

“Fuck.” Mick groaned out, sliding in deeper as he watched you. He stretched you a good bit and you definitely felt full. Or so you thought. Mick finally filled you up, his pubic bone resting against your clit. He was a lot to take in for sure.

Mick gave you time to adjust and you were panting. “You’re so wet for me, y/n” Mick rasped, starting to slide in and out slowly.

You moaned, wanting him to take control. “Harder.” You begged, looking into Mick's eyes. “Are you sure?” He asked, suddenly growing serious. “Yes. I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk.” You said softly, trying to pull your hands out of his grip.

Mick grunted . “God, you’re sexy when you’re shy, but this is a new side of you.” Mick smirked and pulled out, and just as quickly, he shoved himself back in. You cried out, loving how he filled you. “Shit, yes.” Mick growled.

Mick started to pound into you, his mouth catching onto one of your bouncing breasts. You wrapped your legs around Mick’s waist, screaming out his name as his thrusts got faster. “Mick, oh my god!” You cried.

Mick’s flesh hand twitched in yours and you bit your lip. “Choke me.” You whimpered out. Your face got red, not believing your mouth spoke what was on your mind.

Mick's thrusts came to a complete stop. “Oh, princess .” Mick said with a devious smile. Mick got up on his knees, still inside of you. His hand released yours and he brought it to your neck. You moaned, moving your hips against his.

Micks thick cock slid in and out of you and he applied more pressure to your throat. He started to thrust inside of you faster and harder. “You like that? You like when I choke you and fuck you this hard?” Mick said, his breath uneven.

You nodded, gripping onto his wrist. You could still breathe through your mouth and you let out a particularly loud moan when Micks cock hit your g-spot. “There it is.” He chuckled darkly.

Micks thumb started to rub fast circles against your clit and you felt your orgasm approach quickly. “I’m close.” You squealed, gasping for air.

Mickcgrunted and nodded. “I feel you-oh God.” he growled as your pussy clenched around him. “Wait for me. Don’t cum yet, Princess.” He said, speeding up his movements.

You moaned, digging your nails into Mick’s arm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He groaned, his thrusts losing their rhythm. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You had to cum and you had to do it now.

“Mickkk”, you moaned as your pussy tightened around Micks cock again, “I need to-” “Cum for me, Y/N. Cum.” Mick ordered. You gasped as your orgasm hit you.

Micks hand tightened around your throat, so much so, you couldn’t breathe. You didn’t care, you loved it. A smile formed on your lips as you came around Mick.

You felt hot and long spurts of Mick’s cum fill you up inside, a little bit seeping out of your pussy. Mick came down from his high and you moaned as you finished coming down from yours.

Mick pulled out slowly and fell onto his back beside you. You both were breathing heavy and you let out a small giggle. You covered your face with your hands. “What’s so funny?” Mick asked with a chuckle. “I’m getting shy.” You said quietly.

Mick chuckled again. “You’re always shy.” He said with a smile. Mick got up to get a damp towel to clean you both up with.

You and mick were cuddling now, still unclothed and worn out. Mick's hand was drawing small circles on your back and you pressed kisses to his scar. “I love you.” You whispered softly.

You lovingly looked up at him, your cheeks red. “I love you too, my shy princess.” Mick smiled, pulling you in for a kiss. 

#mick rory x reader #Mick rory smut #MickRory #i take requests

[wordstrings]

of sleep-warm skin and love requited

Written and submitted by @delicategoblin:

OK IM OFFICIALLY TERRIFIED BUT IVE EDITED THE ABSOLUTE SHIT OUT OF THIS AND I CANT FIND ANYTHING ELSE TO CHANGE SO UHHHHH HERE WE GO. uhhhh you don’t need to anonymize it I’m g with having my actual blog on here i’m just ,,, f r e a k i n g o u t . thank you again for this opportunity though cause i never would have done this otherwise,,,,also it’s kinda cringe i know but i’m fragile ok i needed the Bois being soft

Publisher’s note: The first official fic of I Fixed/Fic’d It: A Supernatural Fluffsgiving Event! I absolutely love this and it’s exactly what my heart needed.

Words: 1,700

—

of sleep-warm skin and love requited

Soft puffs of warm air blew onto his chest, it blew the fine hairs that grew there against their follicles. It was an annoying, tickling sensation that made it feel like there was a bug crawling on him. He didn’t move, though, or adjust the sleeping hunter in his arms. It served as a grounding sensation, a reminder that the warm body lying next to him was just that; warm, breathing, alive.

“I c’n feel you look’n at me weird.” Dean’s sleepy voice cut through the gentle silence that hung around them. One sleepy green eye cracked open and he shifted, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s bare torso tighter and burying his nose into his sternum.

“I was admiring you,” Castiel protested indignantly and smiled at the muffled embarrassed noise Dean made against him.

“Less admiring, more sleeping.” He grumbled, and pressed a placating kiss to Cas’s throat. Castiel let out a contented hum and let his fingers glide up Dean’s muscled back, feather-light, and up to the nape of his neck.

“Quit it.” Dean shuddered and fell back onto the mattress with a bleary-eyed glare. Castiel shifted onto his side and smoothed his thumb over the crease in Dean’s forehead that resulted from his affronted expression. Dean didn’t comply with his silent request, and it was Cas’s turn to frown. He leaned down and pressed a tiny chaste kiss to the wrinkle, Dean just shied away and huffed.

“Dean,” Castiel squinted at the stubborn man beside him, who stuck his tongue out and made a point to draw his eyebrows even further - the crease became more prominent. Cas could almost laugh, but this was a challenge. A challenge he didn’t intend to back down from.

“Cas,” He mocked, pulling a face.

Oh, so that’s how it was.

Gears in Castiel’s head were turning, but before they could even quite slot into place, he was on top of Dean, pinning him to the mattress with his weight. Dean’s eyes widened, no longer half-shut with the remnants of sleep, and he sucked in a breath. Pupils blown wide, and Castiel grinned. Dean had a very wrong idea of what was about to happen.

“Dean, you’re very stubborn.”

Dean smirked and waggled his eyebrows, before quickly returning to his previous expression, complete with his arms crossed across his chest.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

Castiel hummed as if he were deep in thought, tracing his index finger from Dean’s collarbone to his sternum. Dean cringed and pushed himself back into the mattress.

“Me? Well, I’m going to knock you down a peg or two, in a manner of speaking.” Castiel purred, resting all ten of his fingertips on his ribs, a salacious grin on his face.

“You, on the other hand,” He continued, gliding his hands down to rest at Dean’s sides. “You’re going to smile for me.”

Dean barely had time to swallow nervously before his senses were set alight by tingling, buzzing electricity. He bit his lip and squirmed, grappling with Castiel’s flitting hands.

“C-Cas, c-c’moHAH. Nonono, c’mohon man, this shit’s for kIDS.” His voice raised an octave when the ex-angel who was enjoying this way too much dug his infuriatingly skilled fingers into his tummy.

It took less than three minutes for Dean to be lost to laughter, punctured by the occasional ‘No!’ or ‘Cas!’ and things that were definitely not shrieks when his attacker got to a bad spot.

Cas, the bastard, was watching him with a big stupid smile on his face. It was so wide and genuine Dean couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad when he caught glimpses of his face amidst his thrashing.

“Cas! Cas, it’s like 4 am, stoho- nahaha CAHAHAS NOT THERE, YOUSONUVABIHIHITCH.” Dean cackled and threw his head back with laughter as Castiel’s hands shot into his armpits, he convulsed and clamped his arms down as hard as he could. Nothing could deter Cas’s determined digits.

When Dean’s breathing started sounding labored, Castiel retreated his hands and took to scritching at Dean’s lower belly. Tickling there, just above his waist-band, was the closest thing to giggling he thought Dean Winchester was capable of. His other hand, bored and itching to roam the squirming body beneath him, cupped Dean’s other side and stroked the skin there. There was another layer of squirming away added to Dean’s half-hearted struggle.

“Caaaas, quihihit playing with my chubby spots.” He whined through bubbling laughter. It was innocent enough, but Castiel knew this man well enough to tell the difference between a joke and genuine insecurity.

Castiel pursed his lips and abandoned his tickling, leaning forward to kiss the panting, red-faced mess. Dean was enthusiastic, cupping the back of Castiel’s head, meeting his kiss sloppily with an open mouth and obscene smacking sounds.

When Castiel pulled away, Dean’s hand kept him there; their faces just inches apart, noses brushing.

“You’re the single most beautiful creature in all of creation, Dean Winchester. Inside and out.” Castiel said firmly, cupping Dean’s jaw reverently and looking into his lover’s wide eyes. A faint blush dusted Dean’s cheeks and he dropped his gaze, shrugging, and grumbling. Cas used his hand to nudge Dean’s face back up and pressed kiss after kiss to Dean’s face. His forehead, each eyelid, his nose, his top, and bottom lip, and his chin.

“I’ve seen stars born,” Castiel murmured against his jaw, pressing another kiss to the stubbled skin.

“Galaxies formed,” Another kiss, this time to his neck, then his collarbone, then his sternum.

“Supernovas,” His chest, right over his heart.

“I witnessed the creation of the very first life forms,” His ribs.

“I’m older than time, older than this world, than the universe.” His diaphragm, his stomach, his hip.

“It’s you, Dean. Nothing I’ve ever seen, ever experienced, could ever hold a candle to you. I just wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

Dean sat completely still, watching Cas with twinkling eyes, he swallowed thickly and made to sit up, Cas climbed off him and Dean leaned forward, resting his head on Castiel’s shoulder.

“You mean that?” He whispered, taking Castiel’s hand and fiddling with his fingers. Castiel smiled and pressed a kiss to the crown of Dean’s head, nodding.

“Yes, Dean. I mean it.”

Castiel could hear the quiver in his breath when Dean inhaled deeply.

“That’s pretty gay, man.” He said shakily, pulling away from Castiel with a wobbly smile on his face.

“That it is. I’d venture to say what I’m about to say is gayer, though; I think your smile is especially beautiful. And your laugh.” Castiel added with a sly smile. Dean was quicker on the uptake, though, and before Cas could follow through on his plan, he found himself pinned to the mattress. Staring down a disgruntled Dean, who wasted no time in reaching behind him and kneading Castiel’s thighs.

He howled with laughter and grabbed blindly at Dean’s arms.

“DEAN! DEAN, STOHOHOP!” He bucked underneath the grinning man.

“You started it! And you were about to ambush me again.” He feigned offense, his words spoken around a laugh. His hands converged on Cas’s ribs and dug into the giggle-shriek-inducing spots between each bone.

Expertly, Dean took Castiel apart. Fingers seasoned with years of big-brother experience. His goal was to just tire Cas out to the point he wouldn’t be able to re-retaliate. Ten fingers scribbled across his belly and Cas was lost to giggles that Dean would never tire of hearing.

“Deheheannn, nahaha I’m sohOHORY!” He barely managed around an honest to god squeal that left his mouth when one of Dean’s curious fingers wiggled into his bellybutton.

“See, I just don’t think that’s true.” Dean tutted.

He could have continued on forever, sweet laughter and adorable attempts at an escape or a plea. But, now that Cas was human and oxygen was kind of a necessity, he made the mature decision (what can he say, falling in love changed him) to stop. He pulled away with a parting raspberry to the side of Cas’s neck, which made him shriek and jackknife under him.

“I didn’t bring you back from super hell just so you could tickle the shit out of me, you know,” Dean said, poking his hip. Cas flinched and rubbed a hand over his face, residual giggles still tumbling out of his mouth. He sighed and parted his fingers, peering up at Dean.

“Why did you bring me back, then?” He challenged. Dean glared down at him, but his gaze held no heat. Maybe some exasperation.

“You know why.”

Castiel pulled his hands away from his face and shrugged innocently.

“I don’t, actually.”

“I told you,” Dean huffed. Don’t ask why he was allowing himself to be swept up into Cas’s little game - maybe he liked it. Or maybe he felt guilty still.

“You told me lots of things - through wailing sobs, so it was hard to understand at times. Here; I’ll even make it easy for you. I love you…”

“I know,” Dean replied in a mocking, honeyed tone as he flopped back onto the mattress, pointedly shutting his eyes. Castiel let out a long-suffering sigh and lay back next to him, body curved around Dean’s; a perfect fit, like pieces of a puzzle slotting together. It was a shame Dean was being too much of a man-baby for Castiel to properly enjoy their compatibility and closeness at the moment.

“You’re impossible,” Cas murmured into the skin of Dean’s shoulder, reaching over to pinch at Dean’s waist. He curled away with a squeak that made Cas’s heart swell and grabbed his hands.

“No more tickling,” He pouted. The other man smiled fondly and pressed a kiss to Dean’s temple.

“No more tickling.” He agreed, nodding solemnly.

Then it was quiet again, peaceful. The soft sounds of Dean’s breaths were in sync with his own - the feeling of his heart beating was still alien to him, even though it wasn’t something he noted often.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean said quietly, fingering a mindless pattern on Castiel’s bicep, “I do. Love you, I mean.”

Castiel smiled and pressed his thumb gently into the give of Dean’s thigh, reveling in the softness, the warmth.

“I know.”

#SPNfluffsgiving2020 #tickle fic #Supernatural #ticklish!Dean #ticklish!Cas #Destiel #tickling #ler!Cas #ler!Dean #Dean Winchester #Castiel #submission #author delicategoblin #not mine

[bitchiha]

✎Teaching The Brat A Lesson (Shikamaru x Reader)

Request: I accidentally deleted the initial ask, but it was something simple and along the lines of public sex with Shikamaru.

Summary: You’ve always acted like a brat when you didn’t get your way, but when you take it too far your boyfriend has to teach you a lesson you’ve somehow forgotten.

Warnings: literally just whore knee nsfw, public sex, degrading?? embarrassement?? Brat taming 10000%, Also very fucking whore knee reader and very long?? Or longer than what I usually write. SEMI PROOFREAD IM SORRY!!

— — —

You had been teasing him all day.

He should have figured it out the minute you stepped outside your apartment in his favourite skirt. The black fabric hugged tight on your body, showing off your perfect legs...

Or maybe he should have realized it when you bent down on the way to the restaurant, adjusting your shoe strap. Your back arched as you bent down, enough to perk your ass up right infront of him, the impossibly short fabric of your skirt riding up enough to give him a little preview of what you were wearing underneath — his favourite panties, the emerald lace ones.

More of your teasing ensued until there was an uncomfortable tent in poor Shikamarus pants, forcing him to take off his jacket and hold it low to his chest in attempt to conceal the ordeal. He refused to let you see just how much you were getting to him, but by the smug look on your face you already knew.

You thought that you won, too. That he was going to go ahead and let you have your way. That he was going to fuck you in the bathroom of the restaurant or just take you home and have his way with you. So when he opened the door to diner with a face of false relaxation, you stomped your foot almost child-like. Give in, give in, give in, lord why won’t be give in! He ignored your stomping and walked into the restaurant, looking as unbothered as usual, asking the hostess casually for a table for two.

He was never one to give in to your bratty tendencies, and today wasn’t going to be any different. But you’ve just been such an entitled thing today — more than usual. First, you didn’t want to go to the restaurant with him, begging to be fucked instead and you whined miserably over the phone when he refused. He wanted to take his girl out for once. You whined at his refusal, a dinner date would have been nice if he hadn’t just come back from a week long mission. You didn’t care for a dinner anymore, you only cared for him being between your legs. Then you hung up with a pout. Shikamaru wanted to kick himself for not fixing your ass right when got to your apartment. Instead, he walked straight into your trap and the only option he had left was to remind you who was in charge, as you clearly seem to have forgotten since the last time...

Letting an annoyed huff slip from your lips, you followed the waiter to your booth. Shikamaru trailed behind you with a hand in his pocket while the other carried his coat infront of him. The restaurant was dimly lit and you had a table in an empty corner of the space. It was a Monday night so there was few people in the restaurant, not that you noticed. You didn’t really care to notice anything but your own aching core. Miserably, you began to step toward the seat opposite your boyfriend, the waiter disappearing after setting the menus down.

You didn’t wait for the waiter to fully leave before you stuck your tongue out at Shikamaru. Causing the waiter to snicker a little. Your boyfriends eyebrow twitched in annoyance, that was the last straw. Before you could make any further move to sit down, he reached for your arm, tugging you harshly away from the seat opposite him. “Nu-uh.” Shikamaru scolded, grabbing you and pulling you down next to him in the booth. You gasped slightly, allowing him drag you down — thighs burning as their bare flesh slid against the sleek wood of the bench, making a loud squeak in protest, “where do you think you’re going?” He asked with a falsely sweet tone, hand still gripping your arm. The burning sensation on your thighs quickly moved towards your core at his sudden change in attitude — you had finally pissed him off enough.

A lick of heat brushed against your earlobe as he leaned closer to you, slipping you out of your thoughts as his voice whispered lowly into your ear. “Such a fucking tease, that’s what you are. Thought you could get away with that?” He reached for your hand, removing the jacket from his lap and placing your warm palm over his previously hidden erection. Your mouth opened slightly at the contact and he pressed your hand down firmly. Your soft hand was so inviting Shikamaru almost moaned right then and there, but this wasn’t about him — not yet at least.

You started to grow impatient as he simply held your hand down, teasing you. Pouting you tried to palm eagerly at his dick, but Shikamaru had a firm grip on your hand, preventing you from moving it. Desperately In need of some release you rubbed your thighs together — trying to relieve some tension from your body. You didn’t care that you were in a public space, and you wanted to sob miserably when your boyfriends hand instantly came down to stop the action with an annoyed scoff. You weren’t listening to him, so he repeated his previously ignored question a bit forcefully. “Think you could get away with all that? With giving me one of these in the middle of the fucking village?” His pressed your hand harder onto his clothed dick, mouth still hovering over your ear.

His tone was gruff, angry and frustratingly familiar. It was tone he used when you had gone too far the last time. You remembered what happened to you — face pressed into the mattress with tears streaming down your cheeks. Shikamaru above you and refusing to let you cum, ignoring your pleas completely... Your hips jerked up into the air a little at the memory, god, you were really in for it now. You hated when he didn’t listen to you and when he punished you like that, you hated not being allowed to cum when you wanted to, but it seemed as though you had willfully skipped right down that road tonight, wihout paying so much as a thought to the consequences.

“S-Shikamaru..” You fumbled to form a coherent sentence, a snide remark, something, anything.. but your brain was fogging up from the memory of the last time you had got him pissed of like this and the only thing you could say was his name — that and incoherent rambles. It made him laugh. For fucks sake, he hadn’t even done anything to you yet and you were already this far gone.

He was enjoying the mess you were making of yourself, he really was. In fact it took every ounce of remaining patience in his body to refrain from giving into you. Seeing you like this, with your hand so willingly around his clothed cock and your face flushed red with need in the middle of goddamn fucking restaurant made him want to take you home and fix you up real nice. But he knew he shouldn’t, if he did you wouldn’t learn your lesson and you’d just pull this stunt again, you needed to learn. Before he could open his mouth again you had managed to form a sentence.

“Please.. please.. I need you to make you feel good! Just take me home — let’s go home, Shika..” You begged, still ignoring his question, turning your head to try and face him, but his mouth was still pressed up against your ear.

You were so persistent, so selfish that you kept squirming and trying to relieve yourself in any way possible. Shikamaru was more than grateful that the restaurant was nearly empty and the waitress still hadnt come by, if they did they would have seen his girlfriend practically grinding herself down on the bench. “God, you’re acting like a fucking bitch in heat, y/n. Wait till we go home.” He snarled, grip tightening on your body.

“Shikamaru,” you whined again, unhappy with his answer you shook your head, “take me to the bathroom and have your way with me..” he scowled, feeling his cock twitch at your desperate begging, you could feel it under your palm. Did you ever shut up?

He shoved your hand off his cock, before grabbing the menu and shoving it at you, waiting for you to pick it up, but you just pouted. “Take it. You’re gonna order for us, you fucking brat.” You whined again at his name for you, but pricked the menu from his hands obediently. You’d been to this restaurant so many times before that you already knew what you wanted. Did he really think making you order the food was going to be a challenge? You quickly moved an arm to make the waiter come over.

You were so confident when you turned to call the waiter, so fucking smug you were gonna get your way that Shikamaru had to stifle a laugh. God were you too horny to remember Shikamaru was your boyfriend, since when did he ever make thing this easy for you, especially after the way you’d been behaving?

“Y/n, y/n.. When would I ever make things this easy for you?” But before you could really understand what those words meant, you felt one of his hands push your ass closer to the edge of the bench resulting in another searing sensation on your thighs. You did your best to ignore him as you successfully grabbed the attention of a waiter, your face twisting in satisfaction, but boy was it going to be short lived.

Just as you were about to turn your head and give Shikamaru a triumphant look, maybe stick your tongue out again too, you felt his hand creep past your skirt and up to your skimpy panties, wasting no time to push the fabric aside and plunge two fingers right into your pussy. The very sudden intrusion made you gasp, choking on air as the waiter finally arrived at the table.

Your boyfriend relished in watching you stumble over your words as you attempted to place your order. Shikamarus fingers concealed beneath the table as he worked at you. At first he kept the pace of his fingers slow — because you were a stuttering mess even at that pace — but as soon as you managed to adjust and say something coherent he would curl them again, sending you into a stuttering once more.

“Sorry,” Shikamaru apologized to the confused waiter with a dramatic sigh, “she’s just so shy. Cant say a single thing to a stranger save her life. It’s cute she wanted to try and order for us though, isn’t it?” He posed the question to no one in particular, despite the waiters presence. Shikamaru was only half paying attention to the sever, his eyes trained on your face as he watched you writhing.

The waiter nodded politely and you felt your face burn more than it already was. It was such a bold faced lie, you were never shy. Especially after how confident you looked calling the waiter over a few minutes ago, it seemed like such a hard thing to believe. And not to mention you were regulars at the damn place, they knew just how obnoxious you could be. God, the whole village knew. But having Shikamarus digits pumping into you right now had made you do a full 180. The show continued a bit longer than Shikamaru expected, afterall he figured you were a smart girl and he knew you would find a way around the issue, but your brain was in shambles as a result of what he was doing to you. So it took you a little longer to wiggle out of his own trap, laying the menu flat and just pointing at what you wanted — however even that proved to be difficult with your vision all blurred.

“Ah,” Shikamaru chided as the waiter scribbled down everything you pointed at (you gave up and just started pointing at random things), “giving up so soon? Well.. At least you tried.” He sighed playfully as the waiter finished and hurried off to place the order, wanting to escape your odd behaviour.

Once the waiter was completely out of sight, Shikamarus pace let up a bit and you managed to say your boyfriends name clearly. Your intent was to have the words come out in an angry tone, but instead they came out as a needy whine. Your hands moving to grip onto your thighs, nails digging in to give you some more desperate relief.

He refused to stop, returning to his ruthless pace, his fingers scissoring now at a pace impossibly faster than before. His thumb moved to rub furiously at your clit. You leaned down as your orgasm began to approach, feeling that familiar heat in the pit of your stomach. Shikamaru could see a little bit of drool about to pool out of your mouth and it only fueled for him to go faster. You were a good girl when it came to staying quiet, but the pleasure you were experiencing now made it quite difficult to stifle your noises. It was too exciting and nerve wracking at the same time. Little whimpers slipped out of your mouth, but they were masked by your hand. To any other table in the restaurant it almost looked like you were just innocently stifling a giggle.

He could feel your walls clenching around his digits and he suddenly halted their movements. You turned your head to look at him in shock, eyes blown with lust and eager for a release. The only thing your muddled brain could manage to do was make a confused noise of protest.

He laughed, savouring the sight of you squirming against the booth. “Did you forget, y/n? This is a punishment not a reward. You’d be stupid to expect I’d let you enjoy yourself.” The pace of his fingers grew tantalizingly slow in comparison to the speed they were ravishing you with seconds before, his thumb retracting from your clit. For a second you thought about just grinding yourself down on them until you came, but you knew that would only make the situation worse for you.

So you did your best to take it, hoping he would quicken the pace again if you were good. God, you were so close to cumming, his fingers were all you could think about, but as quick as they were plunged in was as quick as they left. He pulled them out completely, with a little lewd noise following suit as they left your wetness, leaving you unbearably empty. He brought the digits out discreetly from under the table. Wiping them off on a napkin. The actions stinging your eyes, so much so that tears flowed down your cheeks, why did he stop? and more importantly, why didn’t he lick you off his fingers instead of wipe them off?

He noticed the tears brimming your cheeks and stared at you disapprovingly, “Don’t you dare cry, y/n, you did this to yourself. Wipe your tears away.” You reached up to wipe them off your face with a quiet sob, having no energy left to disobey. He felt the strain of his cock through his pants at the sight of your watery eyes and the sound of the little whines leaving your mouth. He did this to you, he made you this desperate mess. His cock was becoming too much for him to ignore, he grabbed your wrist away from your face and forced it against his dick again, your damp tears mixing with the pre cum of the fabric of his pants.

“Finish what you started and maybe, just maybe I’ll let you cum. Only if you help me like a good girl.” You nodded eagerly with a sniffle as he planted your hand on his clothed bulge and you immediately set to work. You choked a little on your spit as you wiped the corner of your mouth with your other hand, a hiccup leaving your lips as you worked at him. You could see a dark spot on his pants as you began pumping at him faster. He managed to slide himself a bit farther down the table to further disguise your actions as you continued.

He was going to cum fast. Afterall he had been rock hard most of the walk through the village and had been in need of a release since. Not to mention the fact that he had just fingered you in front of a waiter, turning him on even more and of course your brattiness never failed to get him going either.

You watched his face, his head leaning back against the bench as you felt him twitch more and more under your palm. He was close and you continued working at him, the stimulation of the fabric of his clothes helping him over the edge. He came with a loud groan that he covered up with a cough. Your faces reddening as you felt a table turn its attention to you for a split second, before returning to their own conversation. You continued to pump at him, you were being a good girl right? Helping him ride his orgasm out, he would for sure help you cum next, right?

As he finally came down from his high, he shoved your hand off his cock lazily, gathering his composure again. Now that his own need was taken care of it was much easier to punish you. He straightened up, ignoring your expectant gaze as he put his hands on the table casually. Your mouth dropped open at how he was seemingly ignoring your presence.

“Shika..” you whined, grabbing at his arm but he refused to let you move it. You settled for tugging at his sleeve, “Shika what about me?”

“What about you?” He said, his breathing still a little heavy as he was still coming down from his high.

“I was a good girl wasn’t I? You said if I was I could cum.”

“Well I didn’t say I would help you, now did I?” He said with a smirk, turning to watch your already flushed expression intensify. He didn’t mean that did he? Was he going to make you finish on your own?

“Shika- “

“Would you prefer I didnt let you cum at all?” You shook your head slowly, letting your hands trail extremely slowly down to your skirt as you thought over what you were about to do. You didn’t want your fingers, they weren’t nearly as good as his own... maybe if you begged-

“What? Are you shy all of the sudden?” He snickered, impatiently grabbing your hand and guiding it to your core himself, positioning your fingers so as to have your middle and pointer out while the others were bunched into a fist. With his other hand he pushed aside your underwear, allowing his hand to plunge your own into your core.

Once again, you find yourself gasping. You were still dripping from the last intrusion, making it easier for Shikamaru to guide your hand in and out of your sopping pussy. Your high didnt take to long to come either, extremely turned on by the fact that Shikamaru guiding your own fingers to fucking you senseless.

It was your turn to be worried if anyone was around, if the waiter was coming with your food, but no one was paying you two any mind. You were glad for that as Shikamaru was no longer being very discreet with the movements of his arms and your lip was most definitely bleeding from how hard you tried to stifle your noises.

You came with a loud “hrmph,” your teeth crushing brutally on your lip preventing the full noise to come out. You felt your pussy clenching around your fingers as Shikamaru finally let his hand go, leaving yours limp in your hole, lazily riding out your orgasm on your own. You were drained, processing what just happened as you pulled your fingers out carefully. Shikamaru took your hand and wiped it off on a napkin before dropping it, letting your arm fall against the table as you tried to gather yourself.

Before you really could, the smell of food wafted to your nose and Shikamaru smirked, the waiter placing more dishes down than the two of you could possibly eat on your own. You couldnt help but smile in hazy satisfaction at your last little jab at Shikamaru. He hadn’t paid much attention to what you were ordering when he was finger fucking you. He cursed himself for promising you over the phone that he would pay the bill.

#Naruto Shippuden #naruto imagine #naruto headcanons #naruto x reader #shikamaru nara #shikamaru headcanons #shikamaru x reader

[hopelikethemoon]

First Words (Javier x Readr) {MTMF}

Tile: First Words Rating: PG Length: 2100 Warnings: Fluff Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set in 1993 after A Dance Owed.  Summary: Reader and Javier spend their last day in Laredo and it’s one of firsts.

@grapemama​ @seawhisperer​​​​​​​ @huliabitch​​​​​​​ @beccaplaying​​​​​​​ @thewallpapergoesorido​​​​​​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​​​​​​ @gooddaykate​​​​​​ @livasaurasrex​​​​​​​ @ham4arrow​​​​​​​ @plexflexico​​​​​​​ @readsalot73​​​​​​​ @hdlynn​ @lokiaddicted​​​​​​​ @randomness501​​​​​​​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​​​​​​  @roxypeanut​​​​​​​ @snivellusim​​​​​​​ @lukesrighthand​​​​​​​ @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​​​​​​​ @awesomefandomsunited​​​​​​​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​​​​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​​​​​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @ah-callie​​​​​​​ @swhiskeys​​​​​​​ @exrebelshocktrooper​​​​​​​ @u-wakatoshii​​ @space-floozy​​​​​​​ @cable-kenobi​​​​​​​ @cool-ultra-nerd​​​​ @himbopoes​​​​​​​ @findhimfives​​ @pedrosdoll​​​​​​​ @frietiemeloen​​​​​​​ @arrowswithwifi​​​​​​​  @cinewhore​​​​​​​ @random066​​​​​​​ @uncomicalhumour​​​​​​​ @heather-lynn​​​​​​​ @domino-oh-damn​​​​​​​ @cyarikaaa​​​​​​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​​​​​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​​​​​​​ @yabby-girl​​​​​​​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​​​​​​ @punkass-potato​​ @coredrive​​​​​​​ @pascalesque​​​​​​​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​​​​​​​ @queenquazar​​​​​​​ @sabinemorans​​​​​​​ @buckstaposition​​​​ @holkaskrosnou​​​​ @yespolkadotkitty​​​​​​​@seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​​​​​​​ @jaime1110​​​​​​​ @katlikeme​​

“She’s gonna say abuelo before she gets either of our names right.” Javier said lightly as he walked in from the back patio, sliding the screen door shut behind him. “Wrapped around his finger.”

“Josie’s fond of her Peña men.” You retorted, glancing up at him for a second before turning your attention back to the tomatillos you had boiling on the stove. “I can’t say I blame her, however—“ 

Javier arched a brow at you as he walked further into the kitchen, “However?”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m being a little set up here.” You told him, reaching for the spoon and giving the pot a stir. 

“I told you I’d help.” He ran his tongue over the front of his teeth as he gave you a look. “But I know you know how to make it.” 

“I do know how to make verde. It’s simple.” You retorted, setting the spoon back onto the stone holder on the counter. “But I’ve made this for the two of us, not your extended family.”

You knew Chucho and Javier were just trying to make you feel like part of the family — because you were, but at the same time they’d inadvertently set you up for failure. 

“Hey,” Javier said lowly, hooking his finger into the belt loop of your jeans as he drew you away from the boiling pot. “They’ll love it.” He assured you, smoothing his hand down your hip. “You made a good impression at the wedding.”

“I figured the only impression I made was — that poor girl Javier accidentally got knocked up.” You taunted, cocking your head to the side as you looked up at him. “I’ve never had to do the extended family thing.”

“Me neither.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. 

You gave him a skeptical look, “You almost married a woman, Javier. You never met Lorraine’s grandparents? Her aunt? A weird uncle?”

He scratched at the back of his neck and glanced downwards, “Touché.” 

“That’s what I figured.” You grabbed the dish towel off the counter and swatted him in the thigh with it. “If you’re going to stay in here, get the blender out.”

You’d had a handful of serious relationships in your life, and every time they got remotely close to really serious you’d quickly found a reason to skirt out of it unscathed. 

Maybe you didn’t want to admit it aloud, but that was exactly what had happened with Lance too. Except it was paired with the sobering realization that you wanted Javier — who had seemed unattainable. 

Who never once gave you the impression that underneath his bachelor veneer, that he could be something like a family man. When you first met him you never would’ve imagined yourself standing in Texas in his father’s kitchen, making salsa verde because his tia was coming over to visit before you went home to Miami. 

“Baby, did you remember cilantro?” Javier questioned as he hauled out the blender and plugged it in on the counter by the microwave. 

“There are so many knives in this kitchen.” You shot him a look over your shoulder. “And don’t the neighbors have pigs?”

“Ouch.” He feigned injuring, clutching at his chest. “I might have to take my offer to take ownership of the verde off the table.”

“Ha. Ha.” You laughed humorlessly, shutting off the stovetop. 

Javier leaned against the counter opposite of you, arms folded across his chest as he watched you work. You could feel his eyes on you as you blended down the sauce in small increments, before pouring them into a bowl to cool. 

“You know, they all adored you.” He told you, once you shut off the blender. “Pretty sure they couldn’t figure out what you were doing with me, but that didn’t change that they adored you.” 

You smiled at him as you cleaned up the mess you had made, tucking the dirty dishes into the sink, “They’ve all made me feel so welcome. Doesn’t mean I’m not nervous.” 

You recognized that some of the kindness was probably pity. You weren’t stupid — you were fully aware of the optics of the situation. 

Javier had a history of burnt bridges; a history that his entire family and the whole goddamn town knew about. You and Josie probably looked pretty flammable to them. If only they knew you’d been made flame resistant from all the bridges you’d set alight while standing on them. 

They hadn’t seen him in Colombia after Josie was born. They hadn’t been there through the years that mattered. 

Chucho was probably the only one who actually believed that you’d still be around next Christmas.

“Just one more night, baby.” Javier reminded you as he crowded in close to you at the sink. “Then we’ll be in Miami.”

You sank back against him and sighed heavily, “I’m looking forward to it being just the three of us again.” You curled your fingers around his arm as he curled them around your waist. “I haven’t spoken to my own brother in years. You can imagine how navigating your extended family feels.”

“You do it so well,” He pressed a kiss to the crook of your neck. “Couldn’t even tell you were nervous.”

You elbowed him in the gut, making him swear as you twisted around in his hold. “Fuck off.” You taunted, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips before slipping away from him. “I’m gonna go see what Josie and Chucho are up to.” You gestured to the cooling dish. “Finish our verde.” 

Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth and nodded, “I’ll be out there in a bit.” He told you as you slid the back door open and stepped outside onto the patio. 

Laredo was a nice change of pace from Colombia. Wide open spaces and a little peace and quiet. You almost regretted that the three of you would be moving back into an apartment in a few days. 

You tried to picture what a younger Javier looked like working on the ranch alongside his father. You’d seen the pictures in frames on the walls, the old high school graduation picture stuck on the side of the fridge alongside the pictures of his cousins and their kids. 

It was hard to picture him without the mustache, the worry lines, and the weight of life on his shoulders. 

You shielded your eyes from the sun, looking across the yard towards one of the horse paddocks where Chucho had Josie. 

You couldn’t picture Javier as a younger man, but you could picture Josie growing up here. Christmases, birthdays, family reunions. Snapshots of life that you couldn’t relate to. 

All you wanted was for Josie to have a normal childhood. A happy childhood. Two parents who loved each other, a stable home life, extended family members who cared. You wanted her to have everything you didn’t have growing up. 

You never wanted her to worry. 

“How are you doing, chica?” Chucho called out as he started back across the yard towards the patio. “You get that verde finished?”

“Javier’s finishing it up.” You answered, hugging your sweater around your middle as you moved to sit down in one of the chairs around the stone fire pit. “How’s Miss Josie?”

“Having the time of her little life.” Chucho bounced her in his arms and she giggled and squealed. “Give it two years and I’ll have her out there on one of my best mares.” 

You laughed, holding your arms out to take her as she tried to squirm out of Chucho’s hold to get to you. You could tell she was tired — but she was trying to soldier through it. 

“She’ll never want to leave then!” You kissed the top of her head as she flopped against your chest. “You’re going to need a nap before dinner.” You brushed your fingers through her curly hair as she sighed dramatically. 

“Javier was a natural in the saddle,” Chucho recalled as he sank down into a chair across from you. He gestured out towards pasture. “Not even two and I had him in the saddle with me, going out to check on the fence line after a storm.”

“You could probably convince me to let her ride when she’s three.” You offered with a short laugh, rocking her in your arms. 

“Deal.” He chuckled, adjusting his hat on his head as he sank back in the chair. “You looking forward to the big move?”

You shrugged, “I’m looking forward to being settled. It’ll be good to see our friends again. To get back into a rhythm.” 

“Never thought I’d see Javier settled.” Chucho told you, shaking his head slowly. “But it’s a good look on him.” 

“He’s a really good father.” You smiled warmly, looking towards the back door, you could just barely see Javier through the glass as he moved across the kitchen. “I know the situation isn’t ideal—“

“No.” Chucho cut you off. “Things happen for a reason. They always do. There’s no such thing as ideal or not. The two of you are good together.”

“Yeah, we are.” You agreed, kissing the top of Josie’s head again. “It’s all just very new for me.” You admitted. “The wedding was a lot.”

“Would’ve gone better if Javier had given his old man a head’s up.”

You felt your cheeks warm, “I know.” 

“Everyone was real impressed with you.” Chucho told you, “Javier was worried.”

You frowned, “He was worried?”

“That they wouldn’t welcome you with open arms.” 

“Oh.” You had assumed he meant that Javier has been worried that you wouldn’t fit in. But he’d been worried for you. “I really appreciated being included. I mean, I did show up unannounced.”

He waved a hand, “You know what you need?”

“A stiff drink?” You laughed. 

“A joint.”

“Excuse me?”

Chucho gave you a look, “You didn’t strike me as a tight ass like Javier.”

“I’m not.” Your brows furrowed together. “Just so we’re clear — you mean a joint joint, right?”

“Is there any other kind?” He questioned as he stood up slowly. “Old age takes its toll on you and I’ve found a bit of marijuana helps take the edge off.”

“I would agree but,” You gestured to Josie. “I’m still breastfeeding her. As tempting as the offer is.” You glanced back towards the house, “Does Javi know?”

Chucho shook his head, “Let’s keep this between the two of us.”

You grinned, “Now I really do feel like part of the family.” 

The back door slid open and Javier stepped out onto the patio. “The verde is finished and the blender’s washed and put back up.”

“Look at that,” Chucho clicked his tongue against his teeth. “He cleans too.”

“Funny, pops.” Javier retorted as he strolled over to where you were sitting. “Real funny.”

Josie perked up the second she heard Javier’s voice, scrambling to get out of your arms. “Da-da!”

Javier stopped dead in his tracks, looking between you and Josie. “Did she just—?”

“Can you say it again?” You questioned, smoothing out her curls as you turned her in your arms so that she was reclining back against your chest and facing Javier. “Can you say daddy?”

Javier knelt down in front of you, grinning from ear-to-ear at Josie. “Come on, princesa. You know you want to say it.”

She clapped her hands together, rocking back against your chest. “D-d-d!” 

“Say daddy.” You kissed the top of her head. 

“Are you going to say daddy, JoJo?” Javier questioned, tapping his finger against her nose as he leaned in to kiss her cheeks. “Say daddy.” 

Josie let out a shrill squeal, “Dada!” 

You grinned down at him, “Javi!”

“Ha ha ha!” Josie cooed, tilting her head back against your chest to look up at you. “Da da da!”

Javier gave your knee a squeeze as he met your eyes, “Baby, you’re gonna have to pinch me.” He glanced back at his father then, “You hear that pops?”

“I sure did.” Chucho smiled at both of you. “You know, I think I’m gonna take the truck out and check on some work I sent the boys to sort out this week. I’ll be back before they show up.”

“You need any help?”

Chucho shook his head, “You stay right here, Javier.” He gave you a knowing look, before heading back in the house. 

“Are we sure she said daddy?” Javier questioned as he scooped her up, cradling her against his chest as she babbled nonsensically. 

“I am certain.” You assured him, your heart aching from just how happy you felt. The joy on Javier’s face made everything worth it. The nerves, the worry, the anxiety, the uncertainty. Those two people made it all worth it. 

This was the Javier that no one else saw. The Javier that was madly in love with the tiny baby girl that the two of you had brought into the world. The Javier that was looking forward to being a stay-at-home dad. 

“Now we’ve got to get you saying mommy.” Javier murmured to Josie as he bounced her in his arms. 

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

[just-the-mage]

A Return from Dark Waters, Part III

Part I / Part II

Written with the lovely and talented @iris-ymir​! <3 

Iris picked up the fork, holding it between her thumb and middle finger. While poking the pie lazily, she kept rubbing her temple. Her head was pounding, like something was trying to force its way out through her skull. Purple eyes followed Eva, as the woman was working around the kitchen. Iris had never seen this side of her. Maybe it had always been there, but she had never paid attention to it, while toying around with the poor girl. She saw Evangeline in a completely new light. Was this because Blacksoul had taken her in, and given her a job? Or was this because of Irene? Iris did not know what to think of this Irene-person yet. Evangeline seemed to enjoy the company of the foxy creature, but there was something about Irene that Iris could not get a hold of. Compared to Lareine, she was completely different... There was something sinister in Irene. 

“Where do you keep your cigarettes? I can fetch one for you…” Evangeline had walked up to Iris, while she had been lost in thought. The pale viera raised her gaze up to the woman, giving her another uneven blink. Eva still had her towel around her, and another wrapped around her long, red hair. The towel was the same Evangeline had when she first took a bath in the manor. It was way too small for her tall, muscular form. It took a moment for Iris to notice she was staring, and she quickly turned sideways on the chair, gazing towards the hallway. 

“...Heck... Dere should be a pack in da drawer, ‘aight next to tha damn coat hangar... At least dere was... Another should be in tha pocket of mi leather jacket...

...Danke, Evangelin’.”, Iris sighed out, as the woman headed towards the doorway, leading into the hallway. The scent of fresh coffee started to fill the kitchen. Iris picked up the glass of water Eva had given to her, and held it to her lips. It was weird being here, after such a long time. In this kitchen, where everything seemed to be as it had been...long ago. It was like the whole world around had frozen in place for two years. Iris tipped the glass, taking a long sip, and then it happened. As the water ran down her throat... as she tasted it on her tongue, it suddenly returned her to the bottomless sea. She gasped for air, ending up only breathing in the rest of the water that was in her mouth. Cold fingers of terror ran up Iris’ back, and the glass dropped from her fingers and onto the floor, shattering into pieces with a loud crash, echoing through the manor. She curled up, coughing, and finally threw up onto the floor, where the remains of the glass were resting.

The viera’s hands were shaking as she grasped her upper arms, digging sharp fingernails into pale skin. The image of the white beach faded, and she was in the kitchen again. 

“I... Im not comin’ back...”, Iris muttered to herself, as tears ran down her cheeks. “... Ye ‘ear mi, motherfocker?! Im n-not comin’ back!”, she broke into a shrilling giggle, rocking back and forth on the chair. The coffee pot was boiling alone on the stove.

The shattering of glass broke the night-time silence that sat heavy in the air of the manor, piercing Evangeline’s reverie as she approached the jacket hanger near the large oaken double doors that led out into the courtyard. Eva turned on her heel, the cigarettes forgotten, her instincts kicking in immediately. She dashed back down the hallway, all manner of decorum immediately thrown from the window, unwanted and unneeded. Was Iris okay? Had someone broken a window? She knew she shouldn’t have left her alone...even for a second. Iris was severely traumatized...Eva should have brought the girl with her. Cold raced through her body as she turned the corner, skidding on the hardwood floors of the passage leading to the kitchen. She felt something drive into her foot, but paid it no mind. Bursting through the doorway to the kitchen, she scanned the room in one swoop, noticing the windows were intact, but Iris’ glass most certainly wasn’t. The pale, slight woman sat, rocking back and forth in her chair, weeping uncontrollably. The floor underneath her was littered with shards of glass, topped off with a puddle of vomit-this time neither black nor bloody. Evangeline swept towards her, taking Iris in her arms without a second thought.

“Iris? Are you still with me?” She said softly, cradling the woman gently against her.

A shiver traveled through Iris’ corpse-like body as Eva held her in her arms. How did she always end up being carried by this woman? The feeling was not completely unpleasant, but she still felt tied down...On the other hand, the warmth of Evangeline’s body tore her free of the remnants of bone-white beach’s grip. 

“...Damn, Cinnabun... Y-Yer gonna c-carry mi over tha frickin’ doorstep or whut..?”, Iris tried to laugh, but it came out as yet another cough. From the corner of her eyes, she thought she saw a figure, sitting on a top of a cupboard, but as she turned her gaze, it was gone. 

“...Seriously though.. C-Could ya put mi down? Tha... heckin’ coffee pot sounds like its about to blow up... D-Did ya find mi cigs..?” 

Evangeline finally noticed the coffee pot.

“Oh! Shite! Shite, shite, shite…” Still holding Iris, Eva stepped quickly across the floor, caution to the wind again. Transferring Iris to one arm, she moved the coffee pot off of the burner, spun surprisingly gracefully, and deposited Iris in another chair, well away from the glass and the sick that was slowly starting to seep in all directions, running along the cracks between the tiles. That would have to be cleaned up soon.

“I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have picked you up like that. Instinct, I guess...I don’t have too much control over it. I didn’t get to your cigarettes before I heard the glass break...I’ll run back out and get them in just a moment. Would you like to come with me? I don’t want you to have to be alone…” Evangeline said, suddenly realizing her towel had slipped quite a bit running back to the kitchen. She adjusted it as surreptitiously as she could manage, and turned away. She took the coffee pot and poured a mugfull of it for Iris.

“What would you like? Cream? Sugar?” Evangeline intoned over her shoulder. As she placed the coffee pot back on the stove and turned off the burner, she glanced at the floor, upon which she had left a few bloody footprints. She sighed internally. Arsene wasn’t going to be happy about this...not one bit.

“Uhh... Just sum cream... A-And a heckin’ whisky shot... Gramps used to give mi one wid mi coffee...” Iris leaned over the table, and could just reach the plate of pie, still resting on her former seat. She pulled the plate to her, and her eyes catched something on the marble flooring. Bloody footprints, leading towards Eva. The woman did not seem to even notice, while working with the coffee, going through the fridge, most likely searching for the cream, and struggling with her too-small towel. “’Ey!...Yer bleedin’ Evangelin’... Did ya step onto the frickin’ broken glass or sumthin’? Dat should be looked at... Yer gonna mess up tha carpet, if ya run around like dat... Come ‘ere, sit yer fine arse on tha chair, and let mi look at it... ‘aight?”, while talking, Iris waved her fork towards the chair next to her. ‘Even healed the burn on your arm’ Evangeline’s words about the fox haunted in Iris’ mind. She noticed she hated the creature already. The hate was different from the hate she felt towards Lareine though. Different like night and day... Lareine was basically a child. Annoying, yes, but in the end, rather easy to deal with. Irene though?

‘...Why are you afraid?’, the inaudible whisper in her ear.. an invisible, clawed hand on her shoulder. Iris winced, almost dropping the fork. She felt the hair on her neck standing up.  The medication... Had anyone given her the medication during these...what...? Four days,  Evangeline had said? In the middle of her train of thought, a cup of fresh coffee was placed in front of Iris. The scent was otherwordly... She raised her gaze up to the woman next to her. To those purple eyes, much like her own. With the color of her eyes, Evangeline could have been her sister. 

“Forget dat cig for a moment, Cinnabun, and take a heckin’ seat... I’ll see whut I can do with yer foot, but just payin’ mind to tha amount of frickin’ blood on tha floor, I dink we might need sum bandages or sum shite ‘ere... Whut are the fockin’ chances dat once when I could actually use Blacksoul, tha man has left da buildin’..?” Iris tapped the chair with the tip of her fork, waiting for Evangeline to take a seat, before the woman could mess the floor any further. She picked up the cup of coffee, brought it to her lips, and took a sip, focusing on the taste... on the scent... trying to ignore the whispers in her ear... chase away the creeping feeling of someone, or something, standing right behind her... a looming presence...

Evangeline sat down with a sigh, propping her feet up so that Iris could look at them. 

“Ugh...I didn’t even notice. Thank you, Iris. I’ll clean the floor in a moment...I appreciate you looking at them. I don’t have much feeling on the bottom of my feet anymore...you’re probably right. It must be some of the glass. Honestly though? I could have a nail in there and I’d have a hard time noticing.”

Evangeline glanced at Iris, who was carefully inspecting Eva’s foot. This was certainly not how Eva had expected, or wanted to spend her evening...she had been hoping for some relaxation, but she had been given a situation that was anything but relaxing. She was still surprised, though, at just how much better Iris returning had turned out. Eva had been dreading it in more ways than one...the shouting match that she had expected. The damaged feelings, the cold shoulders, the incredible awkwardness that would ensue, fallout from an earth-shattering argument between the two of them. And yet...despite the truly terrible breakdown she had just experienced, or...maybe...because of it? Everything had turned out well.

It was hardly a pleasant evening, but Eva found herself breathing a sigh of relief. And with that sigh of relief...she realized just how tired she was. The nightmare had taken its toll on her body...one that wasn’t obvious to the naked eye. Her limbs felt leaden, her eyes heavy...she felt like there was a stone tied around her neck, dragging her down. It wouldn’t be long before she fell asleep...she hoped Iris would stay with her. Sleep next to her as she had said she would.

Melancholy weighed upon her mind as she wound down, pent-up tension releasing as she felt the light pressure of Iris’ fingers on her foot. It would probably be improper for her to sleep next to Irene in the future. Especially once Silke got back. The two of them seemed truly meant to be together...despite whatever it was that was holding them back. The last thing she wanted, though, was to let go of that friendship...whatever her own needs were, she felt a pressing need to maintain her friendship with Irene...and perhaps even create one with Iris. She winced as Iris touched something. There it was...whatever was plaguing her foot.

“That’s something...ah...what did I step on? I can actually feel that.”

Iris leaned forward, while turning Eva’s foot as much as it was possible with the woman sitting down, to get a better look. There was definitely something in there. By running her fingertip gently over the wound, she could feel something sharp in there. It was a big one, and had sunken too deep for her to get a grip of it. Even less with her long claw-like nails, which in this case, were more in the way than helpful. 

“Dere’s definetely sumthin’ okai... But dis arse’ole is a big one... Let mi just try to...”, she placed her thumb onto the side of the wound, and while pressing onto it, rubbed her other thumb down from where she thought the little piece of shite was hiding in. As she did this, Evangeline’s leg twitched, making Iris lose her grip.

 “...For fock’s sake... Do mi a favor, Cinnabun... ‘Aight? Try to stay still... I almost got it... May need sum tools though, but... Lemme try it one more time!” The blood was slowly dripping out of the wound, running down on Eva’s foot, and falling onto Iris’ pale thigh, like an injured wolf’s lifeblood dripping onto fresh snow. With a long sigh, Iris returned her attention to the wound. After some time, and a couple of failed attempts, she got a grip of the end of what appeared to be a splinter of wood, instead of glass. She bit her lower lip, and pulling down carefully, got the splinter out, holding it up for Evangeline to see. 

“Now look at dat frickin’ bad boy! Dis is a damn ‘alf o’ a log right ‘ere! Damn... Dis fockin’ ‘ouse is fallin’ apart...”, she gave a quick glance towards the wound, while placing the rather sizeable splinter onto the edge of the table. The wound was not bleeding badly. The splinter had gushed out some blood on the way out, but without it, it was hardly dripping. This was good. 

“Now stay dere... I’ll see if... I can find anythin’ to tie tha wound wid.. Its not bleedin’ much animore, but ya cant walk on tha hallway carpets wid it aniway.. Blacksoul would frickin’ kill ya..”

Supporting herself with the back of her chair, Iris got up, only to almost fall face first onto the marble flooring. Her head was spinning. The room changed in front of her eyes. Hard, cold marble under her feet turned into soft, bone-white sand. The walls around vanished into thick fog, rising from the pitch-black sea. She fell onto her knees, breathing quickly... breathing in the thick air which reminded her of cold winter graves... and rot. 

“No... Nonononono!”, a wail escaped her lips, as she held her head, trying to make the vision disappear, but it was no use. Evangeline? Iris turned around quickly, but the woman had disappeared, with everything else. There was something in the mist though... Further away on the beach, near the waterline... A figure, dressed up into a grey gown, which almost made her part of the fog. What stood out though, was her face... Lips had been painted black, against almost white chin. And the eyes... The area around the eyes had been smeared with black, like soot, and from that darkness, two empty, dead eyes stared towards Iris. Dead, soulless eyes. Iris opened her mouth to scream, but no voice came out.

Suddenly the world turned again, turning her stomach upside-down, and throwing her back into the kitchen. She was sitting back on the floor, the towel had dropped, and was now laying next to her feet. Evangeline was back... and for the second time, during a single evening, Iris was happy to see that face... those eyes like purple pools. Eyes that were alive. Visibly shaking, Iris got back onto her feet, picking up the towel, and wrapping it around her form. 

“...W-When’s B-Blacksoul comin’ back, Evangelin’..?”

Iris rose from her chair, remarking that bandages would be a necessity if Eva ever wanted to leave the kitchen again. The muscular woman nodded in agreement, her crimson locks bouncing as she did. The sooner they could bandage her foot, the sooner they could fall into bed, something Eva was quickly finding that she needed desperately. Iris hadn’t been standing for more than a second before she tipped over like an expensive, fragile glass vase. She didn’t hit the floor immediately, but hung in the air for a moment, wobbling, her eyes searching the room wildly for something that wasn’t there. Before Eva could untangle herself enough to catch Iris, though, the other woman had collapsed to her knees, quietly wailing and clutching at herself. Evangeline sprung to her side, decorating the floor with another splatter of blood. Again? Crossed her mind. The mental toll this...dark sea must have taken on Iris’ mind seemed immense. She wondered if there was a trigger...something to be avoided that might help Iris stay grounded. Or maybe...something to be said?

“Iris? Iris! Listen to me, okay? You’re right here, not anywhere else. I’m right here next to you.” Evangeline knelt down next to the kneeling woman and took Iris’ chin under her hand, tilting it up so that she could look into the other woman’s eyes. 

“Look at me...focus on me. Hear my voice, and stay with me.” Iris’ eyes...they weren’t Irene’s, that much was certain. But she almost looked through Evangeline...her eyes locked to something that wasn’t there. In a moment, though, she seemed to snap back to reality, her eyes no longer drifting, focusing in on the woman who was directly in front of her.

”W-When’s B-Blacksoul comin’ back, Evangelin’..?” Varg hadn’t said specifically when he would be returning. A month, or two perhaps. He may have been vague because he himself didn’t know how much time he’d need to be away for. This wasn’t particularly good...especially given the way Iris’ condition seemed to be straining her. Hadn’t she...hadn’t she had some medication? Something she had taken days before? Evangeline remembered Varg making some sort of comment about Iris working at the hospital… 

“He said...a month. Two at most.” Concern was clear on Evangeline’s face.

“Wasn’t there some sort of medication you had? Were you supposed to take it daily? Irene never took anything, to my memory.” Eva placed her hands on the shoulders of the now shaking viera.

“You’re going to be okay. I promise.” Evangeline stood up. She’d have to get a bit creative for now...fetch some proper bandages later once things had settled down. She stepped over to the sink, leaving a still-noticeable but less severe pattern of blood along the kitchen floor. From a drawer underneath it, she pulled a dishrag, and, crouching over, wiped her foot and tied the cloth around it. Hopefully this would be enough to staunch the bleeding, at least enough for her to move around the house. She returned to Iris, coming back down to her level. She took Iris’ hand in hers, and looked into those deep purple eyes. The eyes she had loved, lost, and that had come back...not at all in the way she had expected.

“Do you think the medication will help you? If it will, I’ll come with you...and we can find it together. You’re not alone.”

Iris took hold of Evangeline’s hand, letting the woman help her back onto her feet. Her head was still spinning, and she felt like her legs would give in, but she managed to stay standing. She gave a quick glance around the kitchen. It was a mess. Bloody footprints traveled back and forth across the floor, like an echo of where Eva had been. The puddle of almost colorless puke was still resting at the foot of the table, but had stopped from spreading further. Leaning onto Eva, Iris took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of someone constantly watching her from the shadows of her heart. Two months until Blacksoul would be back? For once, Iris would have actually needed the man, and on the moment like that, he was gone. This was like a bad, universal joke…

 “Tha medicine, yeah. I... should take it daily. It should be in mi room... At tha heckin’ nightstand.. a small wooden casing. ‘Onestly though? Im frickin’ tired.. Could just head off to bed and take it den...”, while still talking, she glanced towards the pie and fresh cup of coffee, that were left on the table. 

“...Shite... I-I can make it into mi room on mi own.. Im not a fockin’ grandma to be carried around. But... could ya bring tha coffee and pie wid ya? Damn I hate to even ask, but Im afraid I might drop dem on tha way...” 

“Absolutely!” Evangeline’s lips curled up into a warm smile, as she made sure pale woman would stay standing without support. She took couple of steps to the table, and picked up the plate and cup of coffee.

She would need to clean the kitchen floor, but first she would see Iris into her room, and get her the medication. Meanwhile, Iris was waddling her way towards the door, and into the hallway. She glanced up towards the stairs, bit her lip, and started to climb. At this point she realized just how tired her whole body was. The dream... hallucination.. whatever it had been, had taken its toll onto her body, and she felt like she had not slept in days, while truly, it was almost all she had done for the past week or so. After a climb that felt like a dozen floors, Iris arrived at the second floor of the manor, where her room was. She could hear Evangeline’s steps in the stairway behind her. Every second step sounded damp, because of the rag she had wrapped onto the wound. Iris placed her bony fingers onto the handle, and opened the door, stepping into her room, which was filled with dolls of all shapes and sizes. Everything seemed to be as she had left it. She fought her way to the wide bed, and fell back onto the black, velvery sheets, partly sinking into soft cushions.

Iris’ usually confident stride had been fully replaced by a half-awake stagger. Evangeline wanted to support her...help her along...but Iris’ pride, even in this state, probably wouldn’t allow for it. She had already picked the woman up once tonight...might as well let her maintain her independence in getting to bed. Eva padded along behind her, uneven in her gait as she stepped on the rag again. Hopefully it wasn’t soaked through yet...she just needed a bit longer until she was able to slip away to the bathroom. Loathe as she was to leave Iris alone, she felt a pressing responsibility to clean up as much as she could...and she needed to bandage her foot if she wanted to get into bed. Bloody sheets were the last thing that anyone wanted to wake up to.

Iris rounded the corner into her room, which had remained mostly, if not entirely, untouched throughout the other woman’s absence. Now all that remained was injecting her medicine, a task that Eva wasn’t fully familiar with. She hoped Iris would be able to manage it. Administering medication was far from Eva’s strong suit, and though she could apply a bandage as well as the next person, she would be hard pressed to find a vein with how tired she was.

Evangeline slipped into the room just in time to see Iris throw herself onto her bed, as if she were a fox plunging into a snowbank in search of prey. The bed looked incredibly comfortable.  Iris being in it...an added bonus. Evangeline thanked all twelve gods that she wouldn’t have to sleep alone tonight. Even if it wasn’t Irene...having someone else there would be a lifesaver. She approached the bed, and set the coffee and the pie down on the nightstand next to the side Iris lay on, wreathed in dark sheets. Looking to a wooden box on the same nightstand, Evangeline picked it up and opened it, revealing a syringe and a bottle of light green liquid. It looked like what one would expect poison to look like…

“Can you inject this yourself? I’m not...not really a professional with a needle, unfortunately.” 

"Yeah, I can do dat miself... Not dat I even like anyone else doin' it. Just... fill tha syringe to one third and 'and it to mi, will ya?" Iris replied, her eyes full to the brim with exhaustion.

“Of course.” Evangeline smiled softly at the small, slight puddle of viera lying in bed in front of her. She filled the syringe, at first halfway, and then letting enough out to be right around one third full. Handing it to Iris, she asked: 

“Will you be okay if I run and get bandages? I’d like to keep your bed as clean as I can...and I feel a bit obligated to clean up as much of the floor of the kitchen as I can manage. I’ve left the pie and the coffee here on your nightstand.”

Iris nodded and gave Eva a slight wave, shaking hands trying to find a vein with the needle. Evangeline struggled mentally for a second, before uttering: 

“Can I...would you like me to...can I help at all?” Iris shook her head, still concentrating on placing the needle. Eva let out a light sight and withdrew. She wanted to help, but at this point it would be better to get everything sorted with the kitchen then to try and help Iris with something that Evangeline herself had no idea how to do. She’d most likely just make the situation worse.

Stepping away from the pale viera, Eva unevenly retreated out of the room, her every other footstep muffled by the rag that was luckily still tied around her foot properly. Over the next few minutes she first made her way to the bathroom and found a roll of blissfully white bandages, thoroughly wrapped her foot, and carefully taped it together with a few lengths of medical tape. That would hold her until morning...at least. She’d need to air it out tomorrow, and try to take a better look at it, but hopefully it would start healing on its own. Holding up the rag she had removed, she sighed disappointedly. It was fully dyed crimson at this point. Very little of the original grey of the cloth remained. She hoped Arsene hadn’t been particularly fond of this rag...it was basically useless now. Eva balled it up and stood, now properly bandaged. One task down...now on to the next one.

To Be Continued...

#ffxiv #evangeline cross #writing #rp #mateus rp #iris ymir #the coils of d'espair: irene #viera #rava viera #veena viera #crystal rp #ffxiv rp #a return from dark waters

[sinfulserpents]

Pegging Steve request. 😶

OKAY OBVIOUSLY THIS IS V V NSFW SO PLEASE DO NOT READ IT IF IT WILL MAKE YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE THANK YOU

like seriously, if anything about sex or this certain kink makes you uncomfortable DO. NOT. READ.

steve loves when you dom him

like he didn’t realise how much he loved having a femdom until he started dating you

he loved when you’d tease him through his boxers

running a vibrator up and down his length lightly over the fabric before giving his dick a slap

it’d leave him a stuttering mess as he moans out gasps of your name

or he’d love when you’d tie him to the headboard and put a vibrator on the base of his cock and just leave him like that while you got yourself off

FUCKKKK

but what steve loves even more than being teased is when you’d peg him

he fucking adores it

the first time he asked to be pegged would start with him being dom

eating you out and making you cum over and over again

until he grabs the strap on and lube that he kept under your bed for a really long time

and he’d nervously place them in-between the both of you

you’d pick them up and look at him so innocently that he almost came right on the spot

instead the small dot of precum on his grey boxers began to spread as he waited for you to speak

“what do you want to do with this baby boy?”

steve would let a involuntary whimper past his lips at the nickname

“i-uh, i was wondering if you’d fuck me?”

“you want me to fuck you? are you sure?”

steve would blush and stutter taking the strap out of your hands

“if it’s not something you’re comfortable with, thats okay. we can…you can just ride me?”

you’d quickly shake your head, taking the toy out of his hands leaning up on your knees to attach the strap to your lower half

you wouldn’t say anything else but “get on your hands and knees baby boy” while you lubed up the toy and steve’s hole

“are you sure you want me to do this stevie?”

“please princess, fuck me. hard.”

“as my boy wishes.”

grabbing his hips just as he usually grips yours you pulled him towards you as the dildo on the end of the strap rubbed along his slit

steve’s cock would be hard and leaking precum all over the sheets beneath him

as slowly as you could, you began to push the strap inside steve who would shove his face into the bed and grip the sheets

“baby boy, do you want me to stop? does it hurt?”

steve would quickly shake his head as he positioned himself so his face was resting on his forearms

“p-please don’t stop princess, f-feels so good. i fin - i fingered myself before to be looser.”

humming, you’d bottom the strap all the way inside steve as he began to wiggle his hips and adjust to the new feeling

“you’re such a need baby, pretty boy” you’d coo, which would make steve mewl

you had never seen him so turned on before which made your pussy drip down your legs

“please princess, make me cum - fuck my tight hole”

“since you used your manners, you little cumslut.”

with a slap to one of his ass cheeks, you’d begin to slowly pull out of steve before thrusting back in - gradually building a fast pace

steve would be so turned on that tears began to stream down his cheeks from the pleasure

one of his hands would reach underneath his body to jerk himself off

the feeling of the dildo hitting his prostate while his finger rubbed harshly against his slit would be all too much for steve 

and he’d cum so hard that his legs almost gave out beneath him, his entire body slumping against the bed

you’d gently pull out of him, rubbing his ass as he came down from his high; slowly turning over so his dick slapped against his lower belly - still twitching as he milked his orgasm

you’d crawl over his body before giving him a gentle kiss; caressing his cheeks as you praised him for being such a good boy for you

and from that moment on - pegging would become such a regular since it turned the both of you on so much

sometimes you’d sit back against the headrest of the bed - the strap on raised as steve hovered above you

you’d place your hands on his hips and guide him down onto ‘your cock’

the both of you moaning at the sight

steve’s dick would twitch at the feeling of his ass being full and you’d grab it, gently stroking him as you told him to

“fuck yourself baby boy, i want you to cum so hard you see stars”

imma take a break right here to get a glass of ice-water brb

his hands would rest on the wall above your head as he began riding you

both of you moaning and gasping each time steve takes the whole thing

oh my don’t even mention him not being able to wait for you to get home from work like you asked 

so he’d grab your vibrating dildo, attach it to the full body mirror in your room so he could watch himself fuck it 

and turn it on before taking the whole thing

baby boy would be so into it, palming himself as he thrust the toy in and out that he wouldn’t hear you get home and immediately make your way to the bedroom

you’d hear his desperate whines and moans quickly stripping yourself of your clothes as you opened the door to the sight of your boyfriend fucking himself

leaning against the door frame, one of your hands would roam down your body to play with your pussy while the other gripped the door frame

you could tell when steve got close

his thrust slowed down and his legs began to shake so that’s when you’d make your presence known

clearing your throat you’d let out a loud “couldn’t wait for me to fuck you pretty boy? got so desperate that you had to fuck yourself even though i told you to wait?”

steve would halt his movements, quickly going to remove the dildo but you’d hold your hand up, stopping him as you stepped into the room - shutting the door behind you and sitting on the edge of the bed as you began to play with yourself in front of him

steve’s mouth would part at the sight as his hand began to pump himself again

you’d nod your head towards him and state “you wanted to cum so badly that you didn’t wait for your princess; so go ahead baby boy - show me how badly you need to cum and i might decide to fuck you”

cue desperate steve fucking himself so hard because he needs his princess to take him!!

steve would also love when you’d fill his ass with a dildo and then use a vibrator on his cock while his hands are tied

or when you’d storm into your bedroom after a hard day in work and he immediately goes into sub! mode knowing what you want to do 

“face down, ass up baby boy - i’m going to ruin you.”

steve would probably cum on the spot

when he’s in dom! mode and about to switch to sub! before he gets pegged; steve would make you wear a vibrator and then put on the strap

because he wants to be a good sub and make sure his princess gets off while pleasing him!!!

y’all would fucking love cumming at the same time

steve loves position changing as well

like he loves going at it doggy style (he didn’t know why you loved that position so much until you began fucking him)

but he also loves being able to wrap his legs around your waist while you pound him

baby boy also is such a good sub for you

so after work (he’d get home before you) he’d quickly strip down - putting a dildo inside himself and cock ring on, while he sits down and watches tv

as soon as you get home you’d be greeted with the sight 

which would fucking instantly turn you on because he’s such a good boy for you

and steve would be like “i haven’t cum yet, i got close but you told me to not cum when you’re not around.”

quickly stripping, you’d smirk at him before dropping to your knees between his legs muttering a “such a good boy” before taking his cock in your mouth and thrusting the dildo in and out of his tight hole 

the pleasure would be too much and would make steve cum inside your mouth

you’d swallow it before pulling your lips off him and giving his thigh a harsh slap

“did i say you could cum? or did you just assume that because i’m fucking you, you could?”

“i-im sorry princess, i t-tried to hold it off but i-”

“damn right you’re going to hold off your next orgasm, or i won’t let you cum for the rest of the week, got it?”

steve would weakly nod before throwing his head back and letting out a grunt at the feeling of the dildo hitting his prostate

“h-harder princess, please - let me be a good boy for you.”

you’d watch as the cum from his previous orgasm that you didn’t swallow dripped down his cock to where the dildo was pounding him

such a pretty sight

steve would get close and his dick would twitch but he’d hold off the best he could

gritting his teeth as he let tiny spurts of his seed escape - but not enough to send him into an earth shattering orgasm

you’d rub your thumb over his tip before leaning up to whisper in his ear

“let go baby; cum for me pretty boy”

god steve has never cum so hard

he’d think that’d be the end of it, but you’d quickly pull him up to stand on shaky legs

and you’d send a slap to his ass which still had the dildo in it

steve would let out a sound that was a mix between a sob and a whine because he just knew that you were about to overstimulate him 

“oh i’m not done with you yet baby boy,” you’d mewl, pushing him backwards onto your bed “im going to fuck you again and again, and you’re going to take it like the good boy you are - and then you’re going to help your princess cum because she’s so fucking wet for you, got it?”

“y-yes princess - please fuck my hole - i need i-it”

flipping him over with his help 

steve is still a heavy guy okay lmao

you’d grab a pair of your panties off the floor and put them in his mouth, attaching the strap on and taking his arms behind his back

“you’re such a good slut for me, always waiting to take my cock. that’s all you do, go to work after i suck you off, get home and probably fuck yourself while i’m not here and then wait for me to get home so i ruin this ass, don’t you?”

“y-yes” you’d barely make out the word over his gag

“you love cumming - well you’re going to cum so many times tonight that you’ll be in sub space until the morning,”

with that you’d push into steve quickly reaching beneath him with one hand to play with his hard cock

steve’s hips would meet your thrusts, while one of his hands would be gripping the sheets to keep himself steady and the other would be pinching his nipples

the sensation would immediately send steve into another orgasm, his thighs shaking as a loud moan of your name bubbled from the bottom of his throat

he’d think you were going to let him catch his breath as his cum dripped onto the new bedsheets

but you’d slap his ass and grab his hips before turning him around and continue your hard and fast pace

steves face would screw up in pleasure as the loudest moans he’s ever done filled the room

one of his legs would be pushed up over your shoulder and the other is pushed out to the side (steve recalls you saying that this position is one of your favourites)

and he understands why because it immediately makes him cum again

the creamy substance coating his chest as you slow down your thrusts before pulling out of him completely - making him whine at the loss of being full

agily removing the strap-on, you’d move to hover above him

“i want you to fuck me baby, i need you to make me cum like the good princess i am”

steve wouldn’t be able to do anything but whimper as he felt you sink onto his overstimulated cock and he knew he wouldn’t be able to last long 

you’d begin to ride him, and it wouldn’t be long before he was coating your walls with his seed, but you’d grab his chin - forcing him to look at you

“we’re not done. you’re going to make me cum, yeah?”

and he’d quickly nod in agreement, watching as your eyes shut in bliss and you’d begin to reach your high

even though he was overstimulated and fucked to the max - steve would still want to make sure his baby got pleased

the feeling of you clenching around him while you came with a loud whine of his name would send him spiralling into an orgasm that had him gripping your hips so hard that it was sure to leave . bruises tomorrow

all in all, pegging steve was something that you didn’t know you needed in your sex life 

but it was something that you were definitely glad he got you to do

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington imagine #steve #steve x reader #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington head canon #steve harrington smut #strangerthings #stranger things #stranger things steve #stranger things steve harrington #stranger things 3 #stranger things s3 #stranger things season 3 #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things oneshot #stranger things one shot #stranger things headcanon #stranger things head canon #stranger things smut #smut #so much smut