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gondowan · 3 years

Text

Communal Property

Pairings: Din Djarin x f!Reader, allusions to Paz Viszla x f!Reader, Boba Fett x f!Reader, other Mandalorians x f!Reader, big gangbang vibes here lads.

“I hear you Mandos like to share your women anyway.”

Tags/Warnings: NC-17. Explicit sexual content. Established relationship. Verbal humiliation. Dom/sub. Choking. Lots of finnnngerrring (vaginal/anal). Canon-typical violence (Din stabs a rando). Soup, but make it sexy. Daddy kink (ehe). Suggestions of a threesome, gangbang, public use, bondage, breeding, double penetration (if I missed anything please let me know), its fluffy at the end :D

Word Count: 4,709

Notes: <:3c please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with anything listed above lol. Seriously though.

---

It was getting late, and the only clientele left at the dingy cantina were either drunk and rowdy or on their way to out. Which was fine, it was rare for the two of you to have some time together and you relished every second you could get. Din had just bagged a large bounty for Karga, enough that he could be persuaded to take a short break. It had been far too long since the two of you could spend some time together without a bounty puck hanging over your head or fears of Imperials looking for the Child.

Besides, Sorgan was as quiet as it got, and with all the planet-hopping and close calls in the last few cycles, the two of you really hadn’t had any time to yourselves and you were getting a little...tense from the lack of release.

It wasn’t that Din ignored your needs, but rather you were both so caught up with everything that there was barely any time to sleep, let alone indulge in a long scene. There just weren’t enough hours in the day to both take care of the Crest, the Child, and yourselves while on the run. You could tell he too was tense from the lack of physical connection; from the moment you stepped planetside, he was constantly touching you, either guiding you with a hand on the small of your back or

Din was in a mood.

“What will it be?” the barkeep had asked when you both walked in.

Before you could open your mouth, Din replied “Some stew and cider for her please, nothing for me,” he said in a clipped tone, not bothering to look at you or even ask what you might want.

As the barkeep walked away, he turned his helmeted gaze towards you. “Any objections sweet girl?”

You felt your face get hot. “No,” you murmured.

He cocked his head to the side, waiting. He was in that kind of mood tonight. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the barkeep coming back to your table.

“No...daddy,” you mumbled, dropping your gaze away from him right as the barkeep put down your drinks.

“Let me know if you all need anything else!” she said cheerfully as she set your plate of food and drink in front of you, oblivious to what had just occurred.

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Din said, not even bothering to look at the barkeep. She must’ve thought you were mute or the two of you had an argument or something, the air between the two of you felt so charged. You hadn’t spoken a word since you two stepped in, and this armor-clad Mandalorian was basically bossing you around.

She walked away, and you reached for the soup.

“No.”

You blinked at him in confusion.

“I’m going to feed it to you,”.

If you weren’t embarrassed before, you were now. Although the two of you had conversations about taking your dynamic outside the bedroom, Din hadn’t tried anything outside the ship just yet. The two of you were constantly surrounded by others anyway (Cara, Mayfeld, Boba, etc), so there wasn’t much of a chance to be naughty in public.

Except now, you suppose. You should’ve known.

“Mando, we’re in public,” you hissed, looking around the cantina. It was crowded and loud, and you were in a corner booth, but there was still a nonzero chance that someone might glance over.

His vocoder crackled, “Just the first spoonful,” he said, dipping the spoon into the soup and raising it towards you. You knew better than to say no, not if you valued the ability to sit down comfortably tomorrow. If you were really uncomfortable, all you had to do was blurt out your safeword, and you knew he would stop.

You licked your lips, “Just the one.” You prop your forearms on the table and lean towards him, parting your lips, fervently hoping that no one would look towards your table. Din carefully tips the soup into your mouth, watching intently as you swallow.

“Good?”

You lick your lips, despite the (admittedly delicious) soup, your mouth feels dry, “Y-yeah,”.

“Finish it and we can leave,” to do what it is we really want to do, is the unspoken statement hanging in the air. He pushes the bowl towards you; you hastily grab the spoon, not even tasting it anymore. Din watches you eat, unmoving save for an impatient drum of his fingers on the table.

You relax a little, and ramble at Din about this-that-and-the-other to fill in the silence as you move onto polishing off your cider. Din says little in return but traces circles at your thigh, gloved fingers leaving a burning trial in its wake. Right as you are about to finish, a drunken man saunters over. You can smell the stench of alcohol rolling off of him. So much for a quiet night.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing with a tin can like that?” the drunkard giggles, pointing at Din. “Come with me instead, I can show you a great time, and you can see my face!”.

You sigh, so much for a quiet night, “I’m not interested, thank you,” you say with a clipped smile, turning away, hoping to the maker that he’d leave.

Unfortunately this idiot can’t read the room, “Awww, don’t be like that, I can-”.

“She’s not interested.” Din said, voice flat, gaze still directed at you, not even bothering to give the drunkard the luxury of his full attention.

The man scowls, throwing up his hands. “Whatever, she’s probably all used up. I hear you Mandos like to share your women anyway.”

The air got deathly still. Before you can turn to stop him, Din’s vibroblade is sticking out of this man’s shoulder. He screams, sobering up instantly, as Din twists the blade.

In a flash, the barkeep shows up, blaster in hand, “OUT! All three of you!”, she yells, “Sa’al, I told you if you were going to get in trouble for this shit one day. Don’t let me catch any of you back here again.”

You throw down a fat wad of credits at the table, face apologetic as Din pulls his knife out of Sa’al’s shoulder, returning it to his boot. Sa’al collapses and scurries away in pain, clutching his shoulder. Din calmly stands up, takes your hand in his and leads you towards the exit. You mouth apologies at the barkeep before stepping out into the cool night air. Sorry, my partner is...touchy tonight have a good night so sorry I’m so sorry.

You shiver, not looking forward to the long walk back to the Crest. Surprisingly, Din turns you in the opposite direction, marching you towards the inn.

“Don’t want to wait,” he says. “Besides, it’s getting cold, and I know you don’t like that,” he drapes his cloak over your shoulders, and despite the reaction he had at the bar, your heart feels warm, and you lean into him.

---

The inn is quiet, and you were lucky to get a larger room at the end of the hall. A bath would be nice, the refresher aboard the Crest did its job, but five minute showers really didn’t leave any time for luxuriating. Maybe you could MacGyver some bubbles and really indulge with Din.

Din however, has other ideas. He all but shoves you into the room, closing the door behind him and quickly doing his usual checks for cameras and recording bugs. Old habits die hard. Once he’s satisfied, he sits at the edge of the bed. He pats at his lap, gesturing for you to sit. This had become a bit of a ritual for the two of you, he would often decompress by holding you as you sat there, either in the cockpit or the sleeping quarters. You amble over, planting a kiss on his helmet, and sit down.

Din doesn’t say anything at first, just lays his head on your shoulder. You reach in between his armor to rub at the tense muscles on his back, and for a few moments, it’s just the two of you and the sound of his breathing out of the vocoder.

“You didn’t have to go so hard on the poor man you know,” you murmur as you massage the back of his neck. Din doesn’t move, just continues to hold you on his lap, head on your shoulder as he scoffs.

“I’m getting soft. Before I met you, old me would’ve killed him,” the voice underneath the helmet is deadly. He releases his hold on your waist and takes off his helmet, immediately peppering kisses along your mouth. You knew he wasn’t lying, he had done worse--for less. “No one talks to my girl like that,”.

“It’s fine, you dealt with him. My honor remains intact, I swear.” you giggle as his lips reach a particularly sensitive spot behind your ear. Except the idea was enticing. Maybe you could bring it up another time, when Din wasn’t fresh out of nearly killing someone for saying that. The idea of being sandwiched between two Mandalorians was...tempting. You squeeze your thighs together, willing the thought away as you card your fingers through his hair. For someone who routinely kept it covered, it was so, so soft, and one of your favorite parts about him. Din still kept his helmet on more often than not, so you relished every chance you could get.

His mouth wanders to your collarbones, hand reaching into your shirt, fingers smoothing over your nipple.

“Although Din--ah,” your breath hitched as he rolled your nipple between his fingers, “What was that with the soup?”

“You didn’t like it?” his voice is muffled as he sucks a bruise onto your shoulder.

You loved it actually.

“Need to make sure babygirl has enough energy for Daddy,”. He continues to play with your nipple as you fuss around his lap.“Although...you averted your eyes earlier sweet girl,”.

You whimper, body tensing. Shit. That had one been one of the rules he had laid out for you at the very beginning. Eye contact whenever you were playing. Din loved it because it made you embarrassed to have to admit to your desires to his face and it put you in an almost automatic submissive mindset.

“Are you ashamed of being my baby girl?” he murmured, catching your chin with his hand, tilting your face to meet his. You knew it was a trick question, you could never be ashamed of the relationship the two of you shared. It had grown from just business to more, and despite the near-constant danger, you never wanted to be away from him, and you knew Din felt the same.

“Of course not,” you sigh. You could never be anything but happy to be his.

“Then why did you look away from me?” he asked, keeping your chin in a gentle grip, looking at you fondly, a smile of wicked pleasure gracing his handsome features. His voice was calm, and he maintained an innocent demeanor even as his other hand drifted away from your breast onto your thigh, squeezing gently.

“I was just caught off-guard, we were in public,”. You braced yourself for what you knew was coming-- punishment.

The other hand that had been trailing along your thigh paused, prompting you to freeze. “Well, it looks like you need to be taught a lesson. Always be ready for me, kitten.”

“I think five is good,” he releases your face, hands roaming to your bottom, groping as you let out a shuddering breath, “Remember to count them”.

You burrow your face into his shoulder, holding on tight. Din keeps his gloves on, knowing that you have a special fondness for being spanked while he was wearing them. The leather just adds that extra touch.

The first hit takes you by surprise, and you buck into him, feeling the sting of his hand.

“O-one.”

The second and third hit right next to the first, causing you to moan into his neck.

Din rubbed the growing warm spot on your asscheek, “You should be in a museum kitten, your body is a masterpiece,” he growled, “Almost makes me feel sorry to hurt you.”. He lifts his hand away and you close your eyes, bracing yourself.

“But not quite,”. The next hit has you whimpering.

“Four.” you manage between clenched teeth.

He murmurs, “Last one okay? You’re doing so well.” You steel yourself, knowing that this one will be the most painful. You loved it when he was cold and domineering, playing with your body, inflicting both pain and pleasure at his desire, extracting whatever he needed out of you.

Din’s hand comes down, hard. You cry out, shifting forward with the force, but are caught by his chestplate.

“Five!” you call out, relieved. “T-Thank you Daddy,”.

Din kisses your cheek, phrases of adoration and love filling your ear. He moves you off his thigh, pushing you onto the bed in one swift motion. You land with a soft ‘oof’, getting up on the back of your forearms to look at him.

Din hurriedly takes off the rest of his armor and looms over you on the bed, arousal rolling off his body in waves. His palm reaches down between your legs. “Babygirl...you’ve already made a mess.” Din pulls at the crotch of your panties, feeling the wetness that has seeped through. He yanks them off, making a big show out of sniffing them, all the while maintaining eye contact with you as you squirm under him.

“Is this all for me sweet girl?”. You nod feverishly and Din groans, as he inhales deeply again, your ruined panties pressed right against his nose, “It’s too good--I should just keep your pussy under lock and key.”

“Did the spanking get you all riled up?” he asks, the curve of his cock visible even through his pants, making your mouth water.

“Or…” his voice drops precipitously, “Were you thinking about being passed around?”

Damn, of course he’d know. Your eyes widen and you swallow, stomach twisting.

Din grins as he continues to let his hands caress your hip, “Was that it? Is that what you want? Passed around and used up by a bunch of Mandalorians?”

You whine, biting your lip, refusing to give him the pleasure of confirmation.

A sharp slap across your nipple brings you back to reality. “Answer me.”

You nod, lips parting, unable to answer as Din pushes a finger into your mouth and across your tongue. You lap at his finger, pleased at the subtle shiver that goes through him. He adds a second finger, reaching deep into your mouth, making you gag as you garble out an affirmation.

Din grins ferally. “You know I could call up Paz and Boba, let them take turns on you”. You shudder, the thought of sucking Boba’s cock while Paz worked your pussy was hot. You hadn’t done more than exchange a few conversations with the two of them, but you knew that Din would trust them with his life, they were his vod. Paz was the biggest one and you knew he wouldn’t take it easy on you. Boba, however, would be brutal, possibly even more so than Din.

“Although I don’t know babygirl, I’m not sure I can share your pussy-- maybe I’ll keep my cock in your pussy and the others can take turns on your ass and mouth, keep you airtight and so full. Would you like that baby? Be stuffed full of cock?” Din hums as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth. The image he’s painting in your mind is disgusting and oh so good, you imagine yourself straddling Din as his cock fills your pussy, holding on for dear life while Paz eases himself into your other tight hole and you choke around Boba’s length, utterly debauched.

Din pets your cheek, soft gesture contrasting sharply with the utter filth coming out of his mouth. His hand finally reaches down towards the apex of your thighs, knuckle grazing up and down your folds. “We better train your asshole then, don’t want Paz or Boba to hurt you,” your heart flutters, filthy images of you on your knees plugged up making your blood pound.

“That’s Daddy’s job after all.” he says absentmindedly, eyes laser focused on your pussy as he briefly dips his finger even lower, just barely skimming across your other hole.

“Look at you,” he says, admiring the way you shudder as he inserts his fingers into your pussy, you’re so turned on you can hear the squelch as he pushes in. “Knew you were a greedy slut since the first day I set eyes on you.”

You keen under his touch, mind flying high, pussy throbbing as you move your hips into his hand. “I’m your greedy slut Daddy,”

“Yeah you are, sweet girl.” Din says fondly. You wonder how it is that you’re already this close even though he’s barely started to finger you.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” you whimper, reaching for him. Din hums and puts a knee on the bed, leaning over, chest pressed against yours, pressing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. You pull him closer, needy for more of him as you wordlessly beg for more. He nips at your bottom lip and you open your mouth to let him in, never minding the mess of saliva.

“Never thought you were that much of a whore,” he hisses against your neck, teething grazing along the line of your skin as you tilt your head back to allow him better access. His fingers continue to work their magic on your slick folds, and you’re pretty sure you’ve made a mess on the bed already, and dear maker, he hadn’t even made you cum yet.

“Alternatively…”. Din stands up, mouth leaving yours and withdrawing his fingers as well. You whine at the loss of sensation. He nips at your breast before reaching down to pull his pants down. You swallow, chest heaving as you part your legs further for him. Din rubs the head of his cock on your clit,

“Spread yourself,” he orders with a sharp smack to your inner thigh. You scramble, reaching down to give him better access. Din lets out a moan at the sight of your dripping pussy and your debauched dreamy expression, fresh bruises adorning your neck and chest, all his doing. He loved the way you folded under his touch as if you were made for him, always so sweet and anticipatory of his needs. A beautiful complement to his twisted desires. The thought of it made his heart swell. He was never going to let you go.

Din makes an appreciative noise as you follow his command, lining himself up with your wet hole. You’re breathing so hard in anticipation that you feel light-headed, “Or...I could take you back to the Covert, let everyone else have a turn at you,”

Before you can fully register what he said, he pushes deep into you with one fluid motion of his hips. You squeeze down on him, grateful for the pressure and the way he fills you up every time like he was made for you.

“We could get your implant taken out, make you take all of our loads in your pussy. All of our cum mixing together.” You moan, head dropping back, shuddering as he continues to thrust, bottoming out, not giving you any time to breathe let alone think.

“Would you like that babygirl? Naked in the middle of the Covert for all to see?” you scramble to hold on to his arm, legs circling around his back. You squeeze around his length, getting close, but you don’t dare to cum without his permission.

“D-daddy…” is about all you can muster out, eyes looking at his face but unseeing as he continues. You pull at the arm he’s been using to brace himself against the bed, gesturing at him to put his hand around your neck. He obliges with a small laugh, the span of his palm encompassing your neck, lightly resting his hand there and not squeezing, yet.

“Close baby?”

You tremble, “Y-yes Daddy fuck, please may I--”

His hand returns to your clit and he presses down, taunting you, “You’re close already? If you cum, you acknowledge that you’re a filthy slut who needs Daddy to keep them in check. Is that what you are? A whore for Daddy?”. The hand on your throat squeezes just right and you can’t hold on any longer.

“Always Daddy f-fuck.” you cry out as you curse, feeling your release overtake you as Din fucks you through your orgasm.

“What do you say,” he snarls, ignoring your attempts to scramble away from the overstimulation of his cock and fingers.

You blink and take a deep breath, “Thank you for letting me cum Daddy.” You’re past the point of embarrassment at this point, he has you wrapped around his finger, all mental filters long gone.

You can see Din’s jaw clench before he pulls out quickly and you whimper at the loss of sensation. He flips you over and pulls your hips up. He huffs out as he pushes himself back in, chasing his own pleasure this time, nailing you to the bed and all you can do is continue to take it. Your mind swims as you let out a sob; you’re so deep in a trance that you barely register his finger at the edge of your asshole again. He pushes in slowly, first knuckle breaching the tight ring of muscles as you tense up around his thick finger.

“I knew you would love being the Covert slut; you always need so much to be satisfied,” he sneers, voice dropping even lower as he continues to mock you as his thick cock continues to work your hole and his finger fully breaches your asshole. “Maybe we won’t stop until we’re sure you get pregnant huh? You won’t ever know who the father will be since you won’t ever see their faces.”

You’re nonverbal at this point, your litany of ‘yes Daddy’ and ‘more please’ muffled by the pillow.

“I guess we’ll just have to hope it looks like me huh?”. You groan, too overcome to do anything but moan.

“Gonna give us warriors babygirl?”. Din snaps his hips particularly hard, you’ll be feeling the smack of his thighs against yours in the morning.

You can feel yourself getting closer, the combination of the obscene image he had planted in your mind coupled with the press of his cock at your back and the fullness of his finger in your asshole was getting to be too much. You grip the sheets in a vice grip, mind falling into the web Din painted, of you on your knees, collar tied to a post, all your holes dripping with cum while the other Mandalorians all take a turn at you. So filthy, and you love it. You know nothing would please Din more than your complete and utter submission, and if that involves the entire covert or Paz and Boba, so be it.

Din’s hand comes back up to your throat, and squeezes, playing with your breath right as his other hand inserts a second finger inside your asshole. You clutch at the hand wrapped around your neck, feeling your head swim, closing your eyes as you bounce up and down on his cock.

He growls, biting into the shell of your ear, “Aww baby are you drooling?” he smears your spit across your cheek with his thumb. “Look at you, you’ve only cum once, and all of this is already making you cockdumb. Might have to call Paz and Boba in after all.”

You could only mewl in affirmation, mind floating, body only anchored by the points of contact made by Din’s hand on your throat, his cock in your pussy, and his fingers in your ass. You feel so good being used like this.

“I love it when you’re like this babygirl, so helpless for Daddy,” Din growls in your ear. His eyes are hooded as he chases his own orgasm, the rhythm of his hips becoming more erratic.

“I-I--” your tears break free, running down your cheeks as you struggle to form coherent words.

Din is unaffected, unrelenting in his thrusts against your walls. “Tears aren’t your safeword babygirl. You can do better than that.”

You manage a moan, barely registering his words, cries reverberating around the room as he knocks the breath out of your lungs with each thrust. “Tell Daddy you love this.” he hisses.

“I-I fuck, oh, oh, iloveitdaddypleaseplease,” you struggle to find enough breath to answer him, mouth dry from all your panting, Din’s hand unrelenting across your throat.

“I know you do baby. Is it getting hard to breathe? It’s okay, Daddy’s got you,” his voice full of pride as he rails you, splitting you open, filling the room with nothing but the sound of his cock moving in and out, his hips slapping against your ass. “So good for Daddy fuck-- I’m gonna-- this pussy is too good--such a good girl for me.”

His words fill you with warmth, and you squeeze your pussy against him right as he pulls out. Din moans, his hand letting go of your throat, looking for more leverage as he gets closer to his own completion. “Make a mess all over me babygirl, it’s o-okay I got you,”. You wail and sob as he pushes you over the edge again. All you can hear is your garbled ‘thank you Daddy thank you’ as you thank him devotedly over and over again. All the tension drains out of you, leaving you boneless on the bed, only held up by the fingers still in your ass and his cock.

“S-shit. You made a mess all over me f-fuck, oh fuck.” Din groans as he finishes inside you, filling you with warm cum. He pulls his fingers out and collapses on top of you. Din places his head against yours, peppering kisses all over you as he pulls out, his cum oozing out of you. It’s quiet as you both catch your breath.

You open your eyes blearily, “Fuck.” is about all you can manage before giggling, the endorphins making you feel so good. You can feel Din smile as he lifts himself up, pushing you back on your back. He looks ethereal, hair sticking to his forehead, sweat dripping down his body as he gazes at you fondly. You reach up and caress his face and he leans into your touch.

“How do you feel?” he murmurs, warm brown eyes on yours, laying a kiss on the back of your hand; ever the gentleman when he wasn’t busy degrading you at your request.

You stretch languidly, a little sore, but no more than usual. “I feel great actually. And you?”

Din smiles softly as he caresses your face, “Never better,”. You love all these aspects of him, the bounty hunter, the Mandalorian, your lover. Nothing made you happier than getting to share these moments with him. The two of you lay there for what feels like eternity, happy, sated, no concerns, just kissing each other softly, coming down together. You feel your eyelids close.

His voice brings you back from the edge of sleep. “Sweet girl...we need to clean up,”.

You blink at him blearily, “Ah right...I made a mess,”.

“We made a mess,” he chuckles, pulling you up into his arms (how did he still have all that energy?) before depositing you in the tub and turning on the warm water. Right as the water covers your shoulders, he gets up.

“Where are you going? The water is niiiiice.” you say as you make a big show of sinking into the bath. “Although not as nice as your ass.”

He smirks, “I need to send a message to Paz and Boba. Got exciting news for them,” he says as he turns towards his discarded armor.

Your eyes widen. Wait what?

---

I regret nothing lmfao. This is 100% me procrastinating from the fact that I have six months to finish writing my dissertation nbd. The line “you should be in museums” and “pussy under lock and key” is from Megan thee Stallion’s Sex Talk and Dance respectively. As always, comments/reblogs/keysmashes are always appreciated and give me much serotonin :)

Might do a part two with actual Boba and Paz but there are only so many euphemisms for cock that I know of ahaha.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #paz viszla x reader #boba fett x reader #mono writes

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kalinawtokilig · 3 years

Text

S/O with a Charming/Sharp Tongue

Get ready I’m getting all mystic and biblical;

“There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing...” (Proverbs 12:18)

But we’re gonna use that to SWORD TO THRUST INTO PPL

Pair(s) : Hinata Shouyou x Reader, Goshiki Tsutomu x Reader, Yachi Hitoka x Reader, Koganegawa Kanji x Reader, Haiba Lev x Reader

------

Hinata Shouyou x Reader

((Clementine babes,, *cue puppy eyes*))

It wasn’t much of a surprise tbh

Okay it kinda was

It’s just,,, Hinata can match anyone’s wavelength, y’know??

This babe thinks you’re so frickin cool,,, throwing spats on someone who decides to make the first move to insult you,,, bruh you are literally throwing out clever insults that can make Tsukishima impressed

At first, he was intimidated by you, and was a bit biased, having heard you had the same mannerisms as Saltyshima

He still tried his best to befriend you,,

And it worked!

Being paired into a group project, he introduced himself as bubbly and kind as possible

and damn,, ya heart melted,,,

You became friends as you both bonded over which type of meat buns taste good after a study

and you being a sharp, s m o o t h, muthafuca, you said

“If we’re talking meat buns, how bout I take you on another study date? Pork buns, right, Hinata-kun?”

This boy had to process what you said and became a total pomegranate

“ : 0 “

“Alright, cutie, c’mon if you get this question right, maybe we can get outta here and get snacks :3c “

You’re gonna kill him

and i think we all know he’s okay with that

Goshiki Tsutomu x Reader

((Omgahhh this babie,,, He is one of my fav first years in HQ,,, I do not pimp,,, I simp)))

You’re actually a second year whilst this bowl cut bahbie is a first year

When Shiratorizawa lost to Karasuno, it was a defeat that reigned with rumors of how the volleyball team isn’t as great as everyone thought they were

Goshiki was greatly affected by this

:((((

He feels he failed his Senpais and felt more of a disappointment rather than a failure

You being a tutor of his, you guys would occasionally converse about tips on self-care or he explains with the cutest expression when he talks proudly of perfecting a spike

he seemed normal, but you can obviously tell he was not okay

Tsutomi-bae was trying to hold his tears in while the students that accompanied the library talked about the defeat of Shiratorizawa

Having enough of this trash talk, you sternly declared each one of them, even seeing a few second-years from Shirabu’s class. Setting them straight and saying that if they can take on the freak duo that happened to attempt to take down not only Dateko, Seijoh, and Shiratorizawa, then they might as well try to come back to school, defeated as well

You say at least Tsutomu was able to play against them, playing proudly as the upcoming ace and knowing at least some of their tactics

Sitting down with a huff, you nonchalantly continue to tutor him

He sits there, starry eyes wide, mouth agape, and a pink flush on his face to the tips of his ears

Tilting your head, cutely, I daresay, you ask him if he’s alright

“Y-Yes! Thank you, (Y/N)-senpai!”

Humming, you smile slyly, “You are really such a cute kohai, Tsumtomu-chan.”

Congrats, you killed someone

Yachi Hitoka x Reader

((YESZ I SIMP SIMP FOR HER I AGREE YACHI SUPREMACY))

You were a second-year in Nishinoya’s class

You were actually good friends with the libero

as he was short tempered and ready to throw punches

you were ready to assertively borderline aggressive hurl insults on those who hurt your precious friends

unfortunately, while in a spat against other students, Nishinoya almost foaming at the mouth with Tanaka holding him back, you were snarkily talking the students down into their place

It was their defeat after Seijoh and it hit a sensitive topic to them

Yachi had been bringing paperwork to the teacher’s office and nearly BOLTED when she heard you talk with such confidence with provocation and underlying threat

when you were finished putting those maggots in their place, your pissed off glare landed on Yachi’s

Oh,,, she’s shaking,,, terrified,,,

Hurry to leave, she quickly turned around but rammed into the wall, packets falling to the ground

she scurriedly tries to pick them all up,, Babygirl almost shits herself when you tower over her

“P-Please don’t-”

You crouched down to her and she’s sweating bullets, seeing that your hand it outstretching until-

“I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to glare, you just so happen to be in my line of sight.” You apologized, helping up pick up the papers

Glancing up, you smile as kindly and less threatening as possible, “I didn’t mean to scare an angel like you, I really am sorry about that.”

Yachi tries not to combust at the compliment you’ve thrown at her

Getting up, she nods her head in thanks and you ask, “You’re Yachi, right? Noya says another student joined the club, Yachi, he told me. He was right,”

“About what?”

“Managers, specifically you, really do bless the eyes of a person like me.”

Stop killing ppl you sadist

Koganegawa Kanji x Reader

((I have a thing for blondes,,,, Not atsumu tho, I’ll peg the sh-))

this babie, can just be frustratingly cute

its not that he’s stupid, it’s cause he does more action than thinking

when he does think, it’s on the court and it’s in full hard drive

You usually get into petty spats with Futakuchi cause he’s being too hard on Kogane

“It’s not my fault you have such an obvious crush on him, (Y/N) <3”

“It’s not my fault that you have no one to worry about you the way I do for him Futakuchi-kun </3″

People often mistake why you would for,,, a bubble headed blone himbo like him

“Why do you go for people that are toxic and continue to go back to them when they obviously want your convenience :) ?”

Kogane literally needs to carry you to prevent further provocation

Lots of people don’t get WHY him

And you tell others to worry about their own bitter, single, loveless lives rather than your better and healthy relationship

You are salty and jab at them when they so much as talk negative about your boyfie

Kogane really appreciates you for stepping up for him, but he worries for how far you’d go for him

“...”

“...well?”

“Do you...need me to murder someone, baby?”

“NO”

“Oh, then you got your answer sweetcheeks ;D”

You, my friend, need to stop

Haiba Lev x Reader

((Silver-grey haired babes HIT DIFFERENT))

Being in manager of Nekoma is like,,, chaotic but in a way you NEED to prevent Kenma from strangling Kuroo for taking his Nintendoswitch and Yaku yeeting a ball at Lev’s tall ass

Until YOU wanted to yeet a ball at your boyfie’s tall ass

He finally was able to spike a ball.

but you caught it

with your face

and blood seeped outta your nose

Kuroo: This is my part no one els- Kenma: Shut up

Fiery anger.

Yaku is the one restraining you from going on an all out roast, covering your mouth and holding your shoulders

“Yes, yes, (Y/N), Lev is an idiot.”

“RAAWRFRREG”

“I agree, he can be a pain in the ass, but YOU’RE the one dating him”

“...”

“DONT FUCKIN LICK MY HAND YOU ASS”

Lev is so sorry. he is so sorry, so so-

“Lev, give me a towel..”

“Yes love.”

While Coach Nekomata calls a break, he chuckles at the young couple, that being you and Lev

Kenma cringes

As he cradles you with his larger figure, a hand resting on your head to lay on his shoulder

“You’ve improved on your spike, bae.”

“I did?!”

“Yeah, next time aim for Kuroo’s unnatural bedhead, maybe if you hit it, it’ll turn back to normal.”

“Oi, oi (Y/N), watch it. Rudolph.”

Lev freezes when your eyes smile with confidence, and he restrains you

“YOU WANNA CALL ME NAMES? BRING IT ON YOU TAPU KOKO LOOKIN’ MUTHAF-”

Kenma : “nice pokemon reference”

#hinata shouyo x reader #goshiki tsutomu x reader #yachi hitoka x reader #koganegawa kanji x reader #haiba lev x reader

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boyf-canons · 7 years

Note

HEY so i loved your soulmates au thing with evan and reader, do you think you could do that kinda thing with the boyf riends? that'd be super cool!! thank you!!!

Hey anon!! Sorry this took a couple of days to write, I wanted to get home and do this on my desktop first. It’s a different kind of soulmate AU because Jeremy and Michael have already known each other for quite a while! This is the one where every person has a clock that counts down to meeting their soulmate :3c Thanks for requesting!! ~Mod V☆

Word count: 1,335

tw: none

Jeremy Heere was terrible at math.

It’s not that he didn’t try,it’s just that the numbers never…clicked. Not the way that fighter game combosand convoluted anime plotlines did. However, even though he was bad at math,that didn’t mean he couldn’t count. Just because he had a low D in his Trigonometryclass didn’t mean that he couldn’t see the blue numbers on the small clock onhis wall, still slowly ticking down, day after day. Jeremy’s was gettinguncomfortably close, only a month left. He still couldn’t believe he wassupposed to meet his soulmate this early, when he was just seventeen!

He could remember the day he had received his clock in themail; each person got their soulmate clock when they turned six years old, theyear they started school. Six-year-old Jeremy had been so excited to get his—afterall, his parents had theirs hanging in the living room, times showing 00:00:00 in his parents’ favoritecolors.

Of course, that didn’t always mean the soulmates would staytogether. His father’s clock now sat, still glowing a faint orange, in theattic, the space where it had previously hung in the living room now just aglaring, bare spot.

Jeremy shook the thought out of his head as he pulled hisblue backpack with Rich’s “BOYF” still written on the back onto his shoulders.He glanced at his actual clock. “Shit!”he murmured, quickly pulling his converse on and rushing down the stairs. Hisdad sat on the couch, eyes red and puffy, trying not to stare at the blank spoton the wall.

“Um…Dad, I’m going to Michael’s,” Jeremy said, not surewhether he should be concerned. His father gave a muffled sound in reply, andJeremy just…sorta slinked out of the room and out the front door. He startedoff down the street—Michael lived a short fifteen minute walk away. His phonebuzzed in his pocket

Player 1:

dude where tf u at

Jeremy rolled his eyes and replied.

Player 2:

You make me cringesometimes. I’m on my way.

A moment later:

Player 1:

u kno u luv mejere-bear >;3c

Player 2:

You wish >:P

Jeremy shut his phone off and grabbed the keychain off of hisbackpack, using it to unlock Michael’s front door. It had been a gift for hisfourteenth birthday, when Jeremy had practically lived at the Mell’s whiletrying to avoid his parents’ constant fighting.

“Michael! I’m here!” Jeremy shouted into the empty house. Heheard a muffled “Down here!” from the basement, and Jeremy raced downstairs.

“Hey dude, what’s up?” Michael said, spinning around in hisdesk chair. Faint bass beats echoed from his computer speakers.

“Not much. Think we can crack Level 8 today?” Jeremy asked,plopping down in one of Michael’s beanbag chairs and placing his backpack besidehim. Michael sat down next to him quickly.

“Those zombies won’t know what hit ‘em!” Michael exclaimed,smiling as he gave Jeremy a high-five.

As they proceeded through Apocalypse of the Damned, Level 8:The Haunted Record Store, Jeremy kept glancing around Michael’s room. Theever-present ticking of Jeremy’s clock on the wall hadn’t gone unnoticed; hewas starting to get nervous about it. It kind of disappointing, knowing thathis favorite person in the world could never even possibly be his soulmate—after all, his clock was still ticking.But Michael’s…? In their twelve years of being best friends, Michael had neveronce talked about his soulmate clock. Jeremy had never even seen it.

Suddenly, the sound of Jeremy’s character dying broke himout of his thoughts. Michael let out a groan. “Ugh, Jeremy! You’ve gotta quitspacing out on me like that, or we’ll never get through this level,” Michaelsaid, pouting at him. Normally, Jeremy would have laughed, hit him lightly onthe shoulder, and gone back to playing his game, but Michael’s face,illuminated in the soft blue glow of the game’s pause menu, was absolutelygorgeous. His dark eyes were gleaming, and he was worrying his bottom lip withhis teeth, something he only did when he was nervous.

Jeremy felt his face get hot. Not right now, gay thoughts. “I-I, um, yeah. Yeah, sorry.”

“Jer, are you okay?” Michael asked, a concerned look on hisface as he sat down his controller and scooted closer. Jeremy gulped.

“Michael, have you ever thought…about your soulmate?”

Jeremy looked into Michael’s eyes, not expecting him toclench his jaw and look at the space beside Jeremy’s head, almost like he was holdinghimself back.

“No. Never.”

“Not even once?”

“Look, Jer,” Michael said, looking him straight in the eyesagain. “I don’t need a soulmate to be happy. I have my music, I have my weed,and, well, I have you.” He said, the corners of his mouth twitching up in asmile. “What else do I need?”

Jeremy felt his face flush, and his chest bubble up with—something,he didn’t know what. He just knew that it was a warm, fluttery feeling. Andthen, he did something incredibly stupid. He leaned across the beanbags and grabbedMichael’s face in his hands.

And then, he kissed him

It was rushed and sloppy, a spur-of-the-moment move thatleft Michael stunned. Jeremy pulled away slowly, not realizing his eyes hadfluttered shut until he had to open them again. When he did, he saw Michaelstaring back at him, eyes wide with disbelief. He immediately started reeling.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t—I mean, I did mean to, it’s just—“

Michael cut him off, grabbing Jeremy’s face this time andpressing their lips together. They winced as their teeth clacked together (Jeremywas just glad Michael had gotten his braces off before this), but it felt toogood to stop, too…right. Jeremy didn’t have the words to describe the feeling;all he knew as he climbed into Michael’s lap was that he wanted more of it.

Michael’s soft hands were on his hips now, holding him steadyas Jeremy straddled his thighs, his own hands looped around Michael’s neck.Michael pulled away this time, gasping for air.

“J-Jeremy,” he gasped as Jeremy pressed wet kisses on hischeek, his jaw, the space behind his ear. Jeremy just hummed in response,making a shiver run through the boy.

He wanted to see him, feelhim do that again.

Hours later, hair ruffled and clothes rumpled from makingout, the two laid in Michael’s bed. Michael traced patterns on Jeremy’s barechest—his shirt had come off veryquickly as soon as Michael realized how easily Jeremy’s pale skin bruised—as Jeremyhummed contentedly, his arms around Michael and his head on his shoulder.

“Jeremy,” Michael murmured into his ear. The boy in questionraised his eyebrows in response, and felt Michael take a large, shaky breath. “Youasked about my soulmate, right?”

“Mhm?” Jeremy replied.

“…I broke it.”

“You what?” Jeremysaid, sitting up slightly. He’d never heard of someone breaking their clock on purpose; it sometimes happened byaccident, but never on purpose.

“I did. I broke it. Smashed it against the floor until thenumbers stopped.” Michael said. Jeremy’s mouth stayed open, a little “o” shape.

“Why the hell would you do that?” Jeremy asked, taking Michael’s hand softly and running histhumb over his knuckles. Michael gently lifted his chin up so they made eyecontact.

“Because that was the day that I realized that I wasn’tgoing to be in love with some manic pixie dream girl that the universe pickedout for me,” Michael said. “I was in love with you.”

Jeremy’s breath hitched. He wrapped his arms around Michael’smiddle, snuggling into him again, murmuring an “I love you” against his chestand feeling it convulse with gentle laughter as Michael kissed the top of hishead.

Unbeknownst to Jeremy, the blue numbers on his wall stopped,frozen at 32:38:10. They blinked fora moment, then read out 00:00:00.

#michael mell #jeremy heere #boyf riends #bmc #be more chill #meremy #fanfic #jeremy heere x michael mell #soulmate au #au #mod v

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ryujin-zanba · 7 years

Text

chapter 5~ the final chapter ;3; this fic has been really good fun to write,, thank you @katherine-ciejek for all your wonderful suggestions that made me want to do this lol, here’s to more in the future ;3c

no warnings that i can think of just pure and tooth-rotting fluff & body worship from here u3u hope y’all enjoy~

all chapters will be in one place on ao3 in the next couple of days ^3^

It seems as if he’s surprised even himself with that, but in the moment it had felt like the right thing to do; it was what he wanted to do. Because… being around you is nothing like being with his ex. There’s a constant, radiant air of comfort and belonging here, in your arms and just being beside you. He’s always thought so, but never in such an intense way before.

You’ve been a good and reliable friend, the kind he tries so hard to be to his teammates and to you in return, but coming from such a lonely, dark place, only to end up with you in this cosy, intimate setting feels more than just right, it feels natural.

It feels like home. You save him from the flicker of fear that washes over his face when he notices that he’s caught you off guard; a pink tinge to his cheeks that is kindling for a fiery blush. You tame it by kissing him with several tender, earnest touches of your lips, marking him from mouth… to jaw… to neck… to shoulder. He lets the blanket slip enough to expose more and more skin for your descent, but you go slowly; not rushing him at any point while you take the time to appreciate every inch of him that he offers to you. It’s funny, but you find yourself thinking of his ex briefly. You want them to know what they’ve done, and what they’re now missing. You want them to damn well see that this is how you treat the person you love: with devotion and respect. “You’re beautiful,” you say in a light voice carried on a quiet exhale, as you steadily help him to recline on the spread of feather pillows, but keeping his modesty safe by draping the fleece blanket over his chest once his is lying down. “These big strong arms…” you purr, caressing the relaxed muscles with one hand while you kiss the bicep of the other. Ebumi smiles lopsidedly and flexes for you, and you respond by widening your eyes and making an impressed noise.

It’s vital that he feels the kind of affection and awe that he needs in order to regain his confidence, so you encourage his efforts at every single opportunity. “I can lift Matsuo, you know?” He mentions, that loveable spark of arrogance flickering back to life as you gladly continue to feed his ego. “No way!” You challenge him playfully. “It’s true! I threw him a whole three feet vertically when I got attacked by some bastard crab at the beach and I still caught him!” He fervently retells. “Oh, selfless as well as strong,” you swoon in a dramatic voice. It gets a chuckle and a blush out of Ebumi though, and so you ease him down onto his beck again after he had momentarily leant up when protesting your disbelief. “Go on, beautiful, I want to hear more,” you smile, paying attention to his chest as you follow on from mouthing at his shoulder. “Heh, well… I uh… I scored three tries in practice today…” “Mhm,” you acknowledge, lovingly rubbing circles with your thumbs over the barely distinguishable ridges where his ribs should be.

It’s a nice thing to note that they’re not particularly prominent, actually. Ebumi is very soft around his torso; nicely padded. Ebumi is a nice shape in general really. He’s particularly muscular around his extreme upper half and extreme lower half, but connected in between by a plush chest and the softest, most palpable little waist. He’s like an ice cream sandwich; cool softness protected by crisp, abrasive layers… with a sharp flavour but the sweetest melty centre when you get past the initial tang of his prickly nature. You suppose that makes him a rare delicacy in that, in this metaphor, he’s not the type of ice cream cone the majority would like. Most would go for something classic like strawberry, or bubble-gum, or perhaps rocky road, but there are always those who will opt for rum and raisin every time, and right now, Ebumi looks an awful lot like a big soft serve of your favourite flavour as he melts into the duvet and purrs under your touch. “You’re beautiful,” you remember to keep mentioning; adamant that he will think so too by the time you’re finished here. He smiles dreamily, his eyes closed and his arms raised by his head as he fists up the sheet on the duvet beneath him. You’ve been revealing him very steadily up to now, just rolling the blanket down a fraction at a time, but when you take another inch of cover away, Ebumi tenses and his comfortable expression disappears. You notice immediately, of course, and stop right away, waiting for his word before doing anything more. “Do you need a minute?” You offer rather than ask. Ebumi looks down along his body, seeing you poised but patient as you lay out on your front between his legs. “Just… just please don’t stop, okay?” “Please don’t stop kissing me.” He’s almost begging you. You can hear the desperation and defeat, and it’s there in his eyes too. “Please don’t decide you hate it— or h— hate me when you see me there—” “No, gorgeous,” you intervene, wanting to banish those threatening tears before they can ruin his good feeling. “You’re just fine—” “But you haven’t seen me yet! You might think like they did! I might just repulse y—” “I want you, Masaru. I want you just as you are, and I will love everything that comes with you, including these,” you smile with unchallengeable conviction, sliding the rest of the blanket down without looking, and kissing the soft swell of his tummy that just slightly extends the waistband of his boxers. Without faltering for a moment, you begin to kiss each individual stretch mark that adorn his hips, getting so close in that your nose lightly nudges his belly and your eyelashes sometimes brush against his skin. “You see? Beautiful,” you hush between kisses. “They’re beautiful,” you soothe, migrating inward to his thighs. “You’re beautiful,” you croon, leaving kisses for every little stripe, every little mark, and every little ladder you can discover. Ebumi trembles, relaxing once more and letting out a wistful sigh as his mouth twitches at the corners; the pure and tender ministrations setting his chest a flurry as he comes to feel the love and acceptance he deserves to have learned of long before now. All it had taken was one unpleasant encounter with someone who didn’t respect his body, and since then he’d been convinced that any hope he’d have of being seen as even remotely desirable was diminished completely. But he will never know the right words to describe how magical it is to have all those hurtful criticisms and thoughts of self-loathing singed by the unshakable passion of somebody else.

To have his confidence return steadily, and his doubts chased away by the devoted lips of someone who loves him, and this time, truly loves every aspect of him. “Your skin is the softest here,” you tell him, smiling serenely as you close your eyes and just brush the tip of your nose against the tails of the stretch marks that reach toward his untoned tummy. “It’s the softest thing in the world…” Ebumi gazes down admiringly at you, watching as you explore him with no hint of judgment, only genuine adoration. He extends a hand to tentatively stroke the back of your head, and lets out a breathy laugh that makes his chest expand quickly and in turn makes his tummy ripple slightly like the tiniest disturbance on the surface of water. “You’re just perfect, Ebucchi. Just the way you are,” you promise, opening your eyes to unveil a rich, mellow gaze that you fix directly on him. Heat simmers under his skin and causes a blush to reach up to the tips of his ears; it’s far too adorable, and you wonder how anyone could be so mindless not to realise how perfect he really is. Sensing that you’ve worshipped his beautiful imperfections to the fullest extent, you draw the mood away into a happy close by pressing your lips all over his tummy in a rush of raspberries and noisy, ongoing smooches that have him squirming and cackling, rolling around as he begs you to stop even though he’s giggling and laughing himself to tears. You cease before he starts to actually run out of breath, and bundle him up in the blanket like a little fleece wrap, pinning his arms in the swaddle and kissing his nose. “Now then, beautiful boy, are you hungry? Have you had anything to eat today?” Ebumi’s laughing dies down, and he sniffs as you release him from the blanket burrito and shakes his head. As he sits up though, the fleece slips into his lap where he adopts a pose with both knees bent for his forearms to rest along. This position makes his tummy double up like a little roll of pastry; overhanging just a bit. You’re glad that he already doesn’t feel the need to hide it anymore, and you share in a flurry of chaste kisses all over his face before getting up to make him dinner. He’s clearly starving, the poor mite. He barely says a word; too busy trying to eat his fill when you place a well-piled plate on the coffee table in front of him.

Once he’s satisfied his hunger, however, you seem to be in the company of a very special side to Ebumi. He snuggles up to you automatically, and you sit with his head in your lap for most of the night, just playing with his hair as you watch television into the early hours.

He’s fast asleep when you check on him by silkily moving his bangs from his face. His mouth is partially open and he’s drooling, breathing deeply through his nose and making a slightly congested snoring sound; it’s just far too damn cute.

You’re careful then, delicate with him as you slowly slide him out of your lap and decide that you’ll stay in the little blanket nest in front of the fire tonight.

It’s cosy and intimate, and there’s no chance of a chill when Ebumi instinctively hones in on where you’re about to settle down and attaches himself to you like a baby bird.

You chuckle softly, enamoured by his sweet, sleep-driven antics. But more than anything, you’re happy knowing that he is too.

#my wriiting #all out!!#ao!! fanfiction #ebumi masaru #gender-neutral reader #long post #Mar 17

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