#also this derailed into an au. help.

[catsafari25]

A/N: Hello again, and with this I think (?) I may have succeeded in writing enough bionicle fic to get it out of my system (unless another plot bunny hits me like a cannonball, but... eh, we'll see) and thus, here is the companion piece to the Vakama & Roodaka oneshot.

This time, exploring the scene where Vakama entered the Great Temple, from his side of things! This was also partially inspired by the scene in Challenge of the Hordika where Nokama is almost physically repulsed in trying to enter the Great Temple :)

x

In the tunnels beneath the temple, Vakama must stoop.

At first he shuffles, mutated arm tucked against him and his sole hand brushing only briefly along the floor to steady himself, but the passages are dark and deep and lined with creatures which seek out the weak. The eyes that watch him are not hungry. They keep their bellies too full for that.

In the end, it is easier quicker to drop to all fours, to share the weight between claw and tool that feet alone cannot. His altered form folds into the new stance with frightening familiarity. It's comfortable.

Natural.

The crown of his mask grazes the tunnel's ceiling, but only in passing. His gait is sure. Well. Surer than the ungainly slouch it had been before.

It was said – back when Matoran were awake to say such things – that even the strongest swimmers of Ga-Metru would hesitate before plunging into the depths of the protodermis sea. Not because the creatures there had any fondness for the taste of Matoran. In truth, it was thought that the rahi actively disliked the flavour. No, it was because the way Matoran swam was indistinguishable from the rahi's usual prey. Only when they had sunk tooth and jaw into their meal would they realise their mistake.

It was an annoying, if harmless mistake for the rahi.

Matoran couldn't say the same.

Vakama's early crawl through the passage had been like that of a Matoran swimmer: functional, but slow and indiscernible from wounded prey. Creatures drag themselves down into these depths to die, in hopes that they will be devoured only when they are too far gone to feel it. The eyes are patient. They will wait to see if this newcomer is similarly inclined.

And so when Vakama drops to his haunches, the eyes blink. Reassess. He moves less like the hunted and more like the hunter now, more predator than prey, and the eyes – and teeth – keep their distance after that.

The path Vakama stalks through was once a protodermis pipe, made obsolete even before the cataclysm. Newer conduits had been built, more efficient, more resilient, and this one had been disconnected but never dismantled. When he reaches its origin, it takes some effort – and his blazer claw – to break the seal across the hatchway, but when he does, one of the temple's protodermis purification chambers looms above him.

The room beyond is quiet.

Unmarked.

He doesn't realise he's stopped until the chittering of his audience draws closer. The snarl he throws back echoes off the pipe's walls, and the eyes retreat, but do not leave.

Vakama curls his hand around the lip of the hatch, and then falters.

Something is wrong.

It's not a pain, because the feeling does not hurt as it ought, but something is undeniably, fundamentally wrong. It causes his breath to catch, his hand to flinch, and it would be so easy, so easy, to turn and walk away, only...

Only he came here for a reason.

The wrongness flares, amplified for a moment, and then he pulls himself up. The eyes watch, but do not follow. Do they feel it too? Can even such base creatures sense the innate malice the temple exudes?

He clambers out of the purification chamber – empty and abandoned now – and stumbles upon his landing. He catches himself, but does not rise back to his feet.

Wrong.

This is wrong.

And at the edge of the wrongness there is a strange sort of terror. It dreads the same way the fire fears the sea, the same way the prey fears the predator; it is the meeting of two primally antithetical forces where only one can survive. It whispers turn back through his mind.

He moves into the next room.

It's one he knows well. Light filters down from the rot-stained windows, centering – as it had the day he'd first seen it – on the suva, and casting long sentinel shadows of the columns standing to attention around it. A crack mars the suva, its stone dome now split cleanly in two from the quakes, and – drawn by some desire he cannot identify (instinct, curiosity... nostalgia?) – he approaches.

It seems so small now. Even bowed and altered in his Hordika form, he looms over the Ta-Metru symbol he'd once had to stretch to reach.

Unbidden, his hand moves to the niche where once he'd placed a Toa Stone – where once he had though himself chosen, duty-bound, destiny-gifted – and falters a breath from the stone.

The wrongness spikes.

Screams.

And with a twist of something he will not call horror, he understands it is not originating from himself.

But from the temple.

It is repulsion. It's alienation. It's recognising him, but as other, as rahi.

It's disgust that a monster would dare enter its sanctuary.

In the Ta-Metru carving, stone once polished to the point of fragmented reflection, he sees a glimmer of his own face. Neither Toa nor Matoran. Nothing blessed by Mata Nui.

Vakama recoils.

And then a wave of his own disgust, propelled by that fury that runs so close to the surface now, rolls through him. If you didn't want us as the Toa, you should've stopped Makuta from choosing us, he thinks, and digs his claws into the stonework.

The wrongness sings.

But he knows it for what it is now, and his morphed, clawed hand gorges scars through the carving. The stone is soft. Its makers had never imagined someone would take a blade to it.

There comes a tapping from across the room, echoing brazenly off the ancient stone walls, and Vakama retreats instinctively into the shadows. A Rahaga enters.

Norik?

No, this Rahaga's armour is more akin to a Po-Matoran than a Ta-Matoran's, the colour of dust and stone. Vakama tries to recall the Rahaga's name – and then dismisses the attempt.

It won't matter, in the end.

The Rahaga walks as he always has, stooped and slow, but clearly unhindered by the temple. He passes by the suva and runs one gnarled hand across the stonework, his movements marred by curiosity rather than reverence.

The rage arrives a fully-formed creation. It drowns out the wrongness, floods the apprehension, and he is moving before he's decided that this is the path he wants.

It is not pain, for it does not hurt as it ought.

But it does still hurt.

x

Whatever the Rahaga might once have been, they are old and weak now. Four are captured before Vakama's rage has a chance to cool, but the ire is no less dangerous when it does.

(That's the thing about Ta-Metru; it's not a place of fire so much as it is of magma. And magma doesn't extinguish with the cold; it sets. It moors itself into place, an unmovable, burning force.)

The rage settles, solidifies around his heart and lungs and carves a home between his breaths.

(Magma is not fire. It does not leap blindly from one source to the next. Instead it advances. Slowly. Steadily. It finds a channel, a destination, and it engulfs all in its path until it reaches it.)

He finds the last two remaining Rahaga, pathetically ignorant to their brothers' fates and still scavenging the temple for answers. He hears the way Norik appraises his sister's translation, relief clear in his voice that they are one step further on this wild rahi chase. Relief, surely, that the Rahaga are one step closer to regaining their Toa form.

(And Vakama's anger has found its destination.)

He does not descend on the Rahaga's leader the way he has the others. No. Norik will know what's coming for him first. He gets to fear. Vakama waits until Gaaki has gone, until Norik is alone, and then he circles. The wrongness thrums in his veins, weighing him down and labouring his breaths. It doesn't matter. Let Norik hear his approach.

Norik doesn't try to run. Vakama will give him that much. (A wise choice. Vakama intends for this encounter to last, but if Norik runs, Vakama cannot be sure he won't chase.) Instead, the malformed once-Toa calls out and actually tries to approach him. Stupid. Doesn't he know that he won't win any fight, transformed as he is? As both of them are? No, instead, he tries to talk. As if they are equals, as if Norik has done anything to deserve his respect rather than his scorn. As if he has earned the temple's forgiveness for his trespassing.

Even when Vakama raises the fate of Norik's fellow Rahaga, Norik attempts to sway him with the illusion of reason, talking of duty and unity, as if he's not using the other Toa Hordika to chase after a rahi myth for his own desires. As if their roles are in any way comparable, both Toa of Fire once, both leaders, it's true, but Vakama hasn't forgone his duty to chase after selfish needs.

And it stops now.

Vakama circles closer, and Norik is still talking, unease in his voice, but not fear. Still searching for the right words to turn Vakama to his bidding as he has the other Toa Hordika. Ever the voice of two-faced logic.

Why won't he just shut up?

Does Norik think him to be as gullible as the others? As quick to desert his duty as them?

And Vakama knows he wants – needs – to shake that assurance, that arrogance out of Norik. Needs to see that facade of self-righteous wisdom crumble into the terror of his situation.

The growl begins deep in his chest and, unleashed, it becomes a roar. He rears out of the darkness, into the weak sphere of light surrounding Norik – and there, there he finally sees true fear fill the old fool's eyes.

Something slams into Vakama and he reels, his roar cut short. His hand reaches automatically, defensively, to his mask. He finds only water there. It clings to him, imbued with some sort of power – he can feel something other in it – but otherwise impotent.

"Leave my brother alone," Gaaki snarls. She stands in the doorway, small and hopelessly overpowered, but her shoulders are tensed with a stubborness Vakama recognises. Already, her spinner is powering up for another shot.

Well. Two can play at that game.

Vakama's rhotuka fires into motion, but the water has seeped into the mechanism, and dowses the fire before it has a chance to catch. He gives it a withering look, before turning the expression onto Gaaki. "Very clever."

Another water spinner hits him, but this time he is braced for it and all it does is wash harmlessly off him.

"Is that all you have?" he asks. His blazer claw splutters, but the claws on his hand flex. After all, there's more than one way to defang a muaka...

Gaaki steps back. Good. She knows she's outmatched. "It's a devastating attack underwater," she offers, and her words are strong but there is a cracked edge to them.

"Then you'd better start finding a puddle," Vakama growls, "before my claws find you," and he drops into a run, feet pounding and fangs bared and that ever-present wrongness humming about him.

She doesn't flee. Just like Norik, she stands her ground, gnarled fingers wrapped tight around her staff. Her eyes are hard, but he sees the way her hands shake.

How long will her resolve last, Vakama wonders. Before or after the claws find their mark?

He never finds out.

He's knocked off his feet before he reaches her, and when he hits the ground, ropes of energy pin him to the earth, like a water-bound rahi caught in a net.

What–

Norik.

He'd forgotten Norik.

He thrashes against the restraints, but they hold strong – for now. His blazer claw splutters again, but it does nothing to the energy that binds him.

He stills as he hears footsteps approach.

The two Rahaga hobble into his line of sight. Gaaki is breathing hard, as if only now is she allowing herself to feel the fear. "You left that late, Norik," she says, and even the breath that follows sounds more like a shaken wheeze than a nervous laugh. "Almost too late."

"I only had the one shot. I couldn't afford to miss," Norik replies. "He's got our brothers. Gaaki, go find–"

"I'm not leaving you alone with him," she retorts. "I only went for a moment before, and look what would have happened if I hadn't returned."

Vakama tilts his head as well as the energy net will allow. He grins at the Rahaga, anger curdling it into a sneer. "Yes, Gaaki, you're very good bait, congratulations." He shifts his gaze to Norik. "But you've always been so good at getting others to do your dirty work, haven't you, Norik?"

Norik doesn't even have the decency of guilt. Instead, he simply looks tired. "Whatever you think you know–"

"I know the truth! You don't care about the Matoran, you only care about yourselves!" He strains against the ropes, and although they do not break, there's a little more give in them than before. He slumps back to the ground, breathing hard. "You might have the other Toa fooled. You might even have the temple fooled, but not me," he growls, and the temple's hatred presses down on him, straining his last words.

Gaaki places a frail hand on her brother's arm. "Norik," she says, and there is such unbearable sorrow in her voice. "He looks in pain."

"It's not my doing," Norik assures her softly. "My snare spinner only binds."

Vakama snarls. "I don't need pity from the likes of you. I know what you are."

"We're allies, Vakama," Norik says, in that insufferably reasonable way of his. "Friends."

"You're frauds," Vakama snaps. He twists against his restraints. They slacken, just a touch. "Liars. You don't deserve to walk these floors."

And the Rahaga stand there, unburdened by the temple's hate, strangers to this land, to Metru Nui, and yet it is Vakama the temple repulses? After everything he has forgone, the life he's abandoned, the friendships he's lost, Mata Nui punishes him?

His rhotuka fires off a fire spinner, and it goes wide, cracks a wall. Norik and Gaaki stumble back, Norik preparing another snare shot, but the energy net holding Vakama snaps. Vakama lurches forward, suddenly free, and slams into Norik.

The snare spinner wraps itself around a column. It lights up the room with crackling energy.

A blast of water grazes past his shoulder, too shy of hitting Norik to commit to taking the easy shot, and Vakama reels towards Gaaki. He fires with a snarl, but hears the snare spinner coming again and ducks at the last moment.

Again his own attack misses and the shot cleaves clean through a wall. Something on the other side begins to smoulder.

Then it begins to rumble.

It's a low sound at first, as deep as the earth and just as vast. Almost like a distant growl. But then the cracks begin to spiral out across the roof, along the columns, and the room buckles.

The light flickers. The frames of the high windows above collapse.

The world becomes fragmented, filled with flickering images. Falling masonry and toppling pillars and dust – but the sounds never relent. Even in the depths of the passing darkness, the thunder continues.

And when the dust settles, so does an awful silence.

Vakama straightens, or does his best approximation of it. Fragments of cracked protodermis fall from his shoulders, his head, his back. He withdraws the hand which has somehow found itself raised above Gaaki, knocking aside the stone slab caught against his arm.

Where's Norik?

Both Hordika and Rahaga stand side by side, that quietness disturbed only by the skittering of stone shards settling. There is wrongness in his breath, his head, and it's impossible to separate where the temple's ends and his begins. But any moment now, Norik will reappear from the wreckage, bearing that ever-same holier-than-thou look, and the anger will rise anew in Vakama.

Any.

Moment.

Now.

"You've killed him," Gaaki says, and her voice breaks that terrible stillness. She draws in a half-breath that cracks into a sob. "You've... oh, Norik..."

No.

No, it was an accident. He hadn't meant to– Norik had simply been in the wrong place. It wasn't as if he'd taken a blazer claw to Norik, or hit him directly with a fire spinner. He'd only meant to... what? What had he only meant to do?

Something swings towards him and he grabs the staff before he even registers what it is.

"He's not dead," Vakama says, and maybe if he says it, he might even believe it. He snaps his gaze to Gaaki, as if her grief is bringing it to pass. "He's not. He's not as easy to kill as that. When the others– when the Toa find him, he'll be fine. Fools like him always find a way to survive."

Gaaki attempts to pull her staff free, but her strength is no match for Vakama's. He wretches it out of her grasp and tosses it aside.

"Stop that."

She doesn't listen to him, only steps back and charges up her rhotuka. The grief in her eyes fogs into hatred.

The water spinner hits him but does little more than rock him.

"Stop."

Gaaki screams, a sound of rage and anguish, and releases a volley of spinners as ineffectual as the first.

Vakama's patience – or whatever had held him in place until now – snaps. He lunges forward. His claws close around the joints of Gaaki's rhotuka and pins the mechanisms harmlessly into place, in the same manner one might pick up a baby ussal crab by the widest edge of its shell. She thrashes, but Vakama's grip holds.

"I said, stop," he snarls.

She's breathing hard, her gasps sharp-edged with agony. "You killed him," she says, voice hoarse and hateful.

His insides twist, and – Gaaki hauled by his side – he starts the ascent to where the rest of the Rahaga are trapped. He doesn't look back to the rubble. Doesn't glance for one last glimpse of Norik's resting place.

He's not dead. He's not dead he's not dead he's not

The wrongness, the hatred, has woven so deep into him, it's almost a part of him now.

Toa don't kill. Vakama can't remember who taught him that (he recalls, briefly, the flash of a gold mask, but it comes with pain – grief – and he pushes it aside before it can take root) but it gnaws at him like a trapped stone rat. Toa don't kill.

But he was never meant to be one.

And if the Great Temple – if Mata Nui – thinks a mistake was made in Vakama's destiny....

Well. That's somebody else's problem.

x

The Hordika that returns to Roodaka is different from the one she sent out. There's something new in his eyes... or perhaps something lost.

"How was the temple, Vakama?" she asks when it's just the two of them.

He looks to her. Beneath the anger, beneath the rahi, there's almost a haunted look to those eyes. It vanishes a moment later, but Roodaka never doubts her own eyes.

"Unwelcoming," he replies, and Roodaka smiles. She could have suggested Vakama pick the Rahaga off one by one in the chaos of Metru Nui, outside where her Visorak could have been an aid... but the temple had been too good an opportunity to miss.

"Good." She sets a hand on his shoulder. "You owe no loyalty to Mata Nui, Vakama. Not anymore."

He rolls his shoulder, but not sharp enough to dislodge Roodaka's hand.

"One thing I do not understand," she says. "What happened to the sixth Rahaga?"

The Toa growls. It is a gutteral sound, rooted deep in the chest and at home in a way it wasn't before. "You wanted a message left for the other Toa. I needed a messenger."

"Alive?"

Vakama shrugs his shoulder again, and this time she lets him roll her hand loose. "Does it matter, so long as they understand?" he growls.

No, Roodaka concedes as she surveys the remains of the Toa before her. She supposes not.

#bionicle #cat writes #lego bionicle #do i have a weakness for the hordika arc? you'll never know #(yes. look i was a well behaved 12year old kid who loved plots about characters going feral. i ate the hordika plotline up) #(and two decades later or there abouts i still have nostalgic fondness for it) #heya so how do we feel about vakama returning to the temple and finding it is repulsed by him? #a discovery that might not only confirm he wasnt chosen by mata nui but has been forsaken #and yeah this was the fic i technically titled 'damned' #but also casually thought of it as 'god called to let you know he hates you personally' #because that's definitely a normal thing to name a fic #also yes i like the idea that roodaka pushed vakama to enter the temple knowing he would feel abandoned by mata nui #and thus helps sever the 'destiny' part of the three virtues #i like the idea that just like matau had to invoke the three virtues to get vakama back #roodaka worked on severing vakamas ties to the three virtues to get him to turn his back on the others #and while she succeeded with unity and destiny #duty she could only derail or corrupt rather than sever entirely #and that (esp since duty is vakamas whole shtick) is why matau reminding him of his duty finally worked #i'll probably add this and the stasis tube au to ao3 in time #but for now it goes here

[anangelcalledinquisitor]

hey does anyone else hate it when you're writing a scene and you have a specific direction you need to push the scene (to get to the next part you need to write) but the characters just refuse to let the dialogue happen naturally, and thus end up making you rewrite the dialogue

BUT THEN THE DIALOGUE TAKES THE SCENE INTO A DIFFERENT DIRECTION EVEN IF YOU TRY TO PULL IT BACK ON COURSE???

or is it just me?

#the inquisitor speaks #talking about writing #do you think I can get Y/N to HAVE THIS CONVERSATION??? No. #Moon is also not helping. #Sun is just there. #Sun is getting scritches #he has zero brain cells in operation right now #like yes Y/N I know it's an awkward AF conversation I'm going to make you sit through #BUT IT'S NECESSARY #I s2g if you three derail the smoochies to another three chapters down the road SO HELP ME #scp-au #ALMM #A Love Most Monstrous

[warriorrazor]

I feel like some Lila x Jaune shippers are really loving these two together >;3

oh hohohohoHO RIGHT YOU ARE MY FRIEND

That includes me. I am also Lila x Jaune shipper

SO what this means for the Spooky Family AU is that they often flirt with each other and make the other blush through goofy means. Tis a silly game they play.

So also Jaune has a husband. Because of this I’m thinking that Lila and Jaune are queerplatonic, and have been even before Jaune and her husband got married.

Just two flirtatious girls who would go to the ends of the earth for each other.

#I was also just thinking about not having Jaunes husband be in the AU #But mm I feel like that may lead to me derailing things #and I mean who knows I might just change things in the future #y’all might be able to tell I don’t have this completely planned out #most of it I just make up as I go along as I interact with y’all! #that’s why asks are so helpful; they give me ideas #so any input is always appreciated #even if I don’t get to yalls asks for like a month I’m sorryr #spooky month #spooky family au #spooky month au #spooky month spooky family au #spooky month lila #spooky month Jaune #warriorrazor ask

[aria0fgold]

I just remembered a lil oafb au fun fact: A sneak peak to it is that Mari’s outfit is the only one that’s supposed to be changed at the very start of the time reversal. Omori, Stranger, and Abbi would have outfits made by Mari with the help of BYC’s creation powers.

Basically, I’m supposed to design those outfits while putting myself in Mari’s shoes who I headcanon as someone that doesn’t have that much creativity as Sunny so the outfits she makes are meant to be based on media she knows like fairytale picturebooks, comics, cartoons, tv shows, and even stuff she sees when she was alive or as a ghost.

THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE PLAN

It was also the reason why Omori’s outfit design looks like that cuz Mari took ideas from like, fairytale princes and knights. That was the plan until I doodled an outfit design for Abbi on my notebook before I went to sleep last night.

I ended up creating an outfit that doesn’t match at all with whatever Mari can base it off of and has the similar vibe of Mari’s outfit that just popped into existence orz... and I fell in love with the design too...

#aria rants #oafb au #lets just say dw oafb mari was given quite the creative skill because of the time reversal #LMAOSZJDXFKCGV PLS WHY DO I ALWAYS DO THIS #derailing from my plans i just cant help it when it comes to outfits #on the same note im also going to redesign omoris outfit now too #cuz if abbi can have an outfit with the same vibe as mari's #then omori and stranger can have one too #eheheehe ill be drawing abbi's outfit later once i finish up with that attsanm drawing

[yndrgrl]

katsuki bakugo is the only man who can help bunnygirl! you during heat.

established relationship. normal! au. first time as a couple.

warnings: nsfw, lowkey angst ngl, fellatio, praise, slight degradation, creampie

if you're here for the nsfw part, i marked it >:)

a/n: dude, idk why my last fic has that "mature" label 😭 also is this a hypersexual comfort fic? yeah.

---

"are you okay? you look hot?"

"your forehead is on fire!"

"you look red. drink some water."

you've been hearing that non-stop all day. of course, you know that everyone has good intentions, but it was so annoying.

no, you didn't feel fine, nor did you feel sick. it was a strange, embarrassing thing to admit. in a world full of truly remarkable quirks, you just had to get a basic one. your quirk was rabbit. you know mirko? yeah, well you two are in the same boat.

you have floppy bunny ears the same color as your hair, a puff ball of a bunny tail, & muscular legs. all so cutesy & alright to deal with. the behavioral traits were what got you though. increased hearing, jittery/easily scared, & most annoying of all, the heat that came with it.

though it wasn't unusual to have heat, it was definitely not something you mention in a passing conversation. heat made it hard to focus on anything except for breeding & sex. your senses are enhanced, making clothes feel itchy at all times. your train of thought always derailed to live making. that's why you were prescribed heat repressant.

no side affects & it worked like a charm.

however, this month you forgot to stock up on them, & you just so happened to run out. you would've just skipped school to get some, but it was midterms, which comes with tests & presentations that simply could not be made up. it was either fail your classes or bite the bullet.

"oi! what's your deal?" someone barked at you. ah yes, your boyfriend of six months, katsuki bakugo.

"nothing," you said with annoyance. another thing about your heat is that you get irritable because of the overwhelming feeling of needing to do a certain activity. "don't worry about it."

taken aback, katsuki reached out for you & spun you around. your eyes welled with tears of frustration & utter embarrassment, the tips of your ears were red, & every thread of your clothes made your skin crawl. "hey, what's going on?"

"i-it's nothing, just leave me alone. class is about to start." you understood how much katsuki prides himself in his academics. you're not gonna be the one to drag him down; that's not very amazing-cool-awesome girlfriend of you, after all.

he wanted to say that he didn't care & let's just ditch class, but you both knew you couldn't. the exams were too important. luckily for the both of you, the last period of the day was study hall. most kids just skip it, starting their free time early.

just a few classes, then i can go get medication, that's not bad at all, i've been through worse, you thought in attempts to calm yourself.

yeah, but imagine how could it would feel to be absolutely railed, oh fuck, imagine katsuki-

you had to cut yourself off, he was standing right beside you after all.

your relationship with katsuki has been slow, healthy, & true. the most you two have done in the span of six months is make out, grind, & grope each other clothed. both of you saw a future together so having sex didn't have to happen right then & there. if it happens, it happens, but there was no need to have it to connect.

you didn't want you first time with the love of your life to be because of your current circumstances.

"did i do something?" he asked, making your ears twitch.

"no, it's not you," you reassured, "there's nothing going on." you both entered the classroom, & you could feel katsuki's worried stare focused on you the entire time.

you took exam after exam, which, in of itself, is a long, stressful process. the bell rang throughout the school, & your classmates shuffled out of the room to go to their last period. finally, it was study hall. you threw everything into your backpack without a care. you were practically panting.

throughout the school day, the pressure building inside of you only gotten worse. you couldn't stop thinking about katsuki. his god-sent body, his perfect face, his rugged voice. god, he turned you on so much-- too much, actually.

you felt bad for ignoring all of his texts throughout the day. if you didn't, however, you had a feeling you would've sent some embarrassing messages.

as you exited your class, someone grasped your wrist, dragging you out of the school. their touch lit you on fire. you knew exactly who it was. "let me go, katsuki."

"no, not until you tell me what i did!" he growled at you. he doesn't even realize how wet i am for him-

you had to shut off your thoughts, but that's easier said than done.

"i told you already. you didn't do anything."

"well something is going on with you. tell me what's happening," he raised his voice, a vice grip still hanging onto your wrist. you were getting overstimulated & overwhelmed. once again, you couldn't help the angry tears from forming. you couldn't help but hyperfixate on your panties brushing against your sensitive clit. you couldn't help that your nipples were painfully perked.

you can't just admit that though. it's such a stupid problem to you. you felt so wrong & disgusting for thinking about sex all day. "you wouldn't understand!" you finally yelled back. "you wouldn't get it."

he didn't respond. katsuki continued to drag you throughout campus, leaving you with your thoughts.

god, i made him mad, you mentally cried out. hopefully he'll hate fuck you then-

you want to rip out your own brain & throw it on the concrete. it was a constant cycle of that the entire walk.

a few moments later, you realized you were in his dorm, sitting on his bed with him across from you in his desk chair. both of your hands were in his as he brushed his thumbs against your knuckles. that alone gave you goosebumps. "please tell me what's wrong, baby," he said in a hushed near-whimper. "i'm worried about you."

"you really wouldn't get it, katsuki," you whispered, finally letting a few tears roll down your cheek.

he placed his index finger underneath your chin. he gently raised your head, your gaze following suit. the two of you locked eyes, his swirling with worry & yours sprawling in uncertainty. "then make me understand."

"it's my stupid quirk," you exasperated. you tried coming up with ways of how to say what you want to say without scaring him off.

"what about it?" he asked.

"you have such a nice quirk, you know," you started, avoiding his question. "it's just so much flashier & cooler than mine. there's already a rabbit hero!"

"what are you talking about? you do have a cool quirk."

"i'm a bunnygirl. nothing more. people already know what to expect-"

"what is this really about? you brag all the time how you get to come up with new ways to make your quirk yours," he countered, not convinced with your answer. "there's something more, isn't there?"

katsuki was so good at reading people-- at reading you. the other times you've confided in him, your voice lacked clarity, stability. why would it be different now? it wouldn't, that's why.

"yeah, there is," you admitted, tugging on his hands so he'd get closer. "i just don't know how you'll react or how to even say it-"

"it's fine. just tell me, i won't get mad or judge you or whatever," he assured. you began to cry even more, staining his dress shirt.

he smelt so good, i can feel his muscles through his shirt, he's so sexy-

"i need you," you muttered into his chest.

"what was that, baby?"

you glanced up at him, eyes glossy, lips pouted. "i need you."

katsuki's breath hitched, "what are you talking about?" yes, he's had theories about your quirk & its drawbacks. was this it? was his theory correct?

more tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks as you tried to explained, "i have... you know."

his cock stirred, scolding himself mentally for getting hard during a time like this. "have what?" he wanted you to say it, confirm his suspicions.

you took a deep breath. "i have this thing every month or so, & it just makes things so much harder."

"tell me." his stern voice sent shockwaves through you.

it made you obey him automatically, robotically. "i'm going through heat." a silence followed. "it's normal for people with quirks like mine to go through this. i usually have repressants! & i know this probably makes you so uncomfortable; i understand if you don't want to be-"

-- nsfw starts here --

katsuki cut off your rambling, almost offended. "don't ever say that. i want you, all of you."

"p-please don't say such things," you begged him as you felt your pussy throb. "i'm r-really trying to hold back-"

"let me take care of you, princess," katsuki purred, finger tips ghosting over your exposed thighs. he buried his face into the crook of your neck. "do you want this, y/n? because i want you right now. if you tell me you don't want this, i'll stop."

all you could do is nod, your breath turning uneven.

"say it, y/n."

"i need you so bad. please, katsuki," you cried out as you rubbed your legs together.

he smirked into your neck before he started kissing your neck. you couldn't help but whimper. he noticed you holding back, so he bit your neck. he sucked hickeys all over your neck. your unsteady breathes turned into needy moans.

"t-take off my shirt, please-"

katsuki took in your demand by ripping it off your skin as if it were poison. he unhooked your bra, throwing it on the floor. "ah fuck," he groaned, cupping your breasts.

"are they o-okay?"

"you're fuckin' perfect, baby."

with one, he replaced his rough, calloused hand with his mouth. you grinder against his thigh as flicked your nipple with his tongue. "k-katsuki~"

he switched to the other one, giving it the same treatment. "all mine," he growled in between. he nipped at the skin around your nipples. your neck & chest were soon littered with purple marks & bites.

"let me touch you," you begged & you began to fidget with the buttons of his shirt. "take this off~"

"so needy, aren't you, princess," katsuki teased, yet he gave into you. he threw off his shirt, looming over you. goosebumps pricked at your skin, all over your arms down to your legs. you found yourself trailing your hands all over his abs, his muscular arms, around his back. it was like your hands had a mind of their own.

you flipped the two of you around, so now he was under you. "c-can i please mark you?"

he let out a laugh of amusement, making your face turn a deep red. "you don't have to ask, baby," he told you. as a response, you mimicked his actions from earlier. your lips kissed all over his neck, leaving marks in its wake. you trailed down to his chest, then his abs then his v-line until you reached the band of his pants.

the entire time, he was groaning, feeding you praises that shot straight through your core. when you stopped, he looked down at you, & there you were, staring back at him with eager, wide eyes. he could read you so well. "go ahead, y/n. pull them down."

to which you did. you hands hooked both his uniform pants & his boxers. you pulled them down, & your mouth watered when his cock sprung out. "i-it's so big," you moaned; you meant to only think that, but you couldn't help it.

his mushroom tip beaded precum, his veiny shaft twitched in anticipation. "you see how hard i am for you? all for you," katsuki told you, watching your eyes dart to his then back down to his cock.

you started licking him to test the waters. you saw as his eyebrows furrowed together, his mouth agape, narrowed eyes. your licks evolved into you sticking his tip into your mouth. your tongue flicked around his cock. you crossed your eyes & whined when you tasted his precum. thanks to his quirk, it tasted almost sweet, salty, & god, was it addicting.

you bobbed your head up & down his thick rod. the tip hit the back of your throat while spit flooded your mouth. it was hard to breath, but you didn't care. having katsuki inside of you was more important than breathing. "slow down. you're gonna make me cum, good girl."

that was enough inspiration for you. you needed his cum. you forced your head all the way down his cock, your nose buried in his pubes. your eyes watered (for the fifth time today), & you stared into katsuki's eyes. both of his hands tangled themselves into your hair. "i'm gonna fuck that slutty, little throat, okay? just tap if it's too much," he informed, but he had a feeling you were going let him do whatever he wanted.

you moaned as a way to let him know that you heard him. the vibrations quivered his tip. "mmm, fuck. you're doing so good," he praised, jutting his hips forward the drawing them back.

his thrusts at first were small, in fear he was hurting you. however, as he looked down at you, your eyes rolled back, drool spilling out of your mouth, rubbing your aching clit for some sort of release, he couldn't hold back. he started using your throat as a fuck toy.

fast & rough, & all you could do was take it. take it, even though you're crying & it's hard to breath. "i'm close," he uttered out in between moans. his sultry voice turned a pitch higher in a humiliating tease, "you want my cum, baby? huh? c'mon, tell me you want it."

you choked out muffled, "yes please" & "cum down my throat please." he laughed at you trying to form sentences with your mouth stuffed. "such an eager bitch. fine, i'll give you what you want."

he thrusted his hips forwards, keeping your head in place. you face smushed against his hips. his cock twitched as he unloaded spurts of cum down your throat.

he pulled away, & strings of saliva mixed with his semen leaked onto your skirt. you looked back up at him, finding his cock still erect. "you look so surprised," katsuki said as he caught his breath. "i'm still so hard for you. after all, i told you i was going to take care of you."

"p-please have sex with me," you barely even whispered.

"what was that?"

"please-"

"i still can't hear you," katsuki told you, stroking his dick. he really knew how to push your buttons

"please fuck me, katsuki! i need it, i need you so bad~ i need your big cock inside of me," you blurted out. you finally let you stupid, nasty fantasies get the better of you.

judging from katsuki's smug expression, he wanted you to indulge in them. "alright, alright. you've been such a good girl for me. it's the least i could do," he shrugged before flipping you over so you were trapped under him. even in your most intimate moments, he was cocky. & god, did it make your pussy wet.

as he started to pull your skirt down, your hands shot to grab his wrists. "no, fuck me now, i can't wait. it hurts too bad," you whined, your glossy lips pouting.

"of course, princess," he said with a smirk. "whatever you want." katsuki's fingers dove under your skirt to push your panties out of the way. he held your legs up, placing your calves over his shoulders.

he lubed the tip of his dick with your juices by running it through your folds. "you're so wet for me, good girl."

"it's all for you, katsuki~" you purred, anticipation practically killing you. you felt pride as he turned his head to kiss the meat of your calf in approval.

"can't let it go to waste," he told you. he lined his thick, heavy cock with your entrance. something must've taken over you because, the moment it lined up with your hole, you shoved your hips forward with your entire body.

you let out a squeal of pleasure, your pussy stretching to accommodate for katsuki's lengthy cock. "shit, baby, you almost knocked me over," he chuckled as he readjusted. both of his hands were on your hips.

"shut up & fuck me," you growled at him. his cock twitched, brow raised in amusement.

"yes ma'am," he replied, "but remember you said that." from the get-go, his thrusts were powerful, immediately finding the cervix. your nails dug into his biceps down to his wrists. moans, whimpers, & screams spilled out of your lips.

katsuki took his fingers to your mouth & demanded in a low voice, "suck."

the action made you quiet down. he found your g-spot soon after, & you felt lightheaded. with his fingers down your throat, his cock abusing your most sensitive spot, & katsuki whispering dirty nothings into your ears, you shut your eyes & released all the tension building up.

"f-f-fuck, i-i'm cumming, katsuki," you rasped, voice having a small lisp thanks to his fingers. you squirted all over his abdomen, breath heavy & uneven.

he didn't stop though. he still rammed his big fuckin' dick in & out of you, not letting you calm down from your euphoric high. in fact, his hand that you slobbered all over found their way to your clit. he drew small circles around it. "ah, katsuki!" you moaned. "it's too much!"

"you'll be a good girl, & take it, won't you? i haven't cum inside you yet," he responded while his other hand pinched your nipples.

"i-i-i'll be a good girl, katsuki~" you slurred, speaking on beat with his thrusts. he made you cum three more times then you felt as his hips became more robotic, shorter, uncalculated.

"i'm cumming," he groaned through gritted teeth. "i'm cumming. fuckin' take all of it." thick jets of hot, white cum stained your walls. his dick pulsated inside of you. you came again; who could blame you?

he took a few deep breaths, collapsing on top of you as he pulled out of your pussy. cum spilled out of you & onto his sheets. he embraced you, whispering, "round two?"

#anime and manga #bakugou scenarios #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou drabble #bakugou headcanons #bakugou smut #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #katsukibakugou #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki smut #katsuki x reader smut #bnha fluff #bnha #mha bakugou #mha #x reader

[geekforhorror]

pls pls plsssss i want older!anakin to fuck me where everyone could hear us so baaaaad!!! want obi wan to yell at us for being so reckless & disrespectful!! also daddy kink! imagine age gap!

pls write something about his i love your writing!!!!!!!!!

I PRACTICALLY MOANED AT THIS. ALSO I APPRECIATE THE FEEDBACK

shameless

pairing: older!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!anakin, sub!reader, established age gap (anakin is 35, reader is 20), anakin is a master in this (not readers master tho!), unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, pet names, divorced au (sorry miss amidala!), etc.

————

You always had a thing for Skywalker.

You didn’t know what made him so alluring. Maybe it was his confidence, good looks, personality, or perhaps it was all three. You had developed a crush on him from the very moment you encountered him in the temple’s halls. From then on, you could barely keep your composure around him. It started off with blushing and now it had gotten to the point where you had to clench your thighs together whenever he spoke to you. You tried your best to shield your thoughts from the confident Jedi and you thought you succeeded in doing so.

Oh, how wrong you were.

See, unbeknownst to you, Anakin had picked up on your behavior and instantly wanted to know what it was that was making you that flustered. He already had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on. Luckily, he would have the opportunity to see if he was right or not. One night, he had been assigned to be your dueling partner since your master was out on a mission. You were nervous to say the least. How the fuck were you supposed to spend an entire hour with him when you could barely keep your composure around him for more than five minutes? All you knew was that you were screwed.

————

The time had finally come where you had to meet Skywalker in the dueling chambers. Here you were, outside of the very room where the man you had grown feelings for was, yet you were too nervous to actually enter the room. You didn’t know how to describe it. Being around him was so… intoxicating, but also nerve wracking. You knew better than to let these thoughts surface during your session with him, but it would be rather tricky when you had to duel at the same time. Besides, what would he think? He would probably report you to the council the first chance he got for inappropriate behavior on your behalf. That’s why this couldn’t come to light.

To prepare yourself, you took a deep breath in and collected yourself enough before finally entering the room. As soon as you entered the room, you were met with those mesmerizing blue eyes you loved so much. They had a way of making you gaze into them until you were in a dazed-like state. It was hard to look away, but you managed to do so, keeping in mind that you couldn’t be caught doing a thing like that.

“Hello Master Skywalker. It’s a pleasure to duel with you again,” you say too cheerfully. Fuck.

“The feeling is mutual,” he replies with a rather nonchalant tone to his voice. You didn’t know what it was about his voice that always had you dripping through your panties, but fuck. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded like pure velvet.

“Are you ready?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you said a little too quick.

“Alright then. Positions!”

You do as he says and take your normal stance, which you had learned from your master. Anakin takes his signature pose, the room now filled with silence that wasn’t there before. Suddenly, his lightsaber strikes in the air and gives you barely any time to react. However, you know better than to let his hasty movements derail yours. You decide to use your instincts to your advantage.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you,” he says with a cheshire smile.

“Good,” you confidently reply.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your rather fierce response. He always admired your boldness and confidence. It was what set you apart from all the other Jedi. However, you were also selfless and willing to sacrifice everything for the ones you loved. He saw parts of himself in you. That drive and desire.

He saw your response as an invitation to go harder on you as he swayed his body around while attempting to strike you with his wielded weapon. You blocked him with every breath you took and focused on finding his weakness. Fortunately for him, your focus on defeating him allowed him the perfect opportunity to lodge himself inside that pretty little brain of yours and see what you were hiding from him. After all, his mind reading abilities were way stronger than yours, so it was likely you wouldn’t even notice.

Suddenly, he was met with a vision. It was one of you: all alone in your quarters, wearing nothing but your lacy bra. He was met with the sight of your cunt, all covered in slick and creamy arousal. There you were, all sprawled out on the bed while plunging two of your fingers inside your needy pussy—imagining it was him stretching your tight hole until you were practically begging to cum. Just as he was about to strike, his ears were met with your needy moans.

“Fuck- Ana- Anakin,” you whined out, loud enough for bypassers in the hall to hear.

The vision disappeared just as fast as it was displayed and was replaced with another, only this one was more of a thought and more dirty than the last. This time, it was you thinking of his hands roaming your body and pounding his cock into you until you were a crying and moaning mess around him.

How could a girl like you have such nasty thoughts about her superior?

He felt himself grow hard in the confines of his pants and knew he had to get out before you noticed. When he came back, he was met with your leg swiftly coming up in the air in order to counter his previous actions. Despite being distracted for some time, he somehow overpowered the thoughts of you just enough to hit you right in the leg with his training saber, declaring victory.

“Well, well,” you heard him say.

“What is it?” you say, sounding intrigued but also confused.

“It seems like I beat you despite getting into that pretty little head of yours,” he finally admits.

“Wait what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me… I know every dirty little thought you have of me,” Anakin chuckles confidently. “It’s quite adorable, actually.

You felt a flush of embarrassment fill your cheeks as they were now a rosy shade of pink. “It’s not that hard to sense in you, angel,” he replies, reading your very thoughts. “I found them quite amusing. The way you want me to kiss all over your pretty little body, how you want me to ruin you and make you mine, the feeling of what it would be like to be taken by a man, not a mere Jedi boy. They don’t know what you want like I do,” he says cockily.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you admit.

“Then I’ll do the talking. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you. I mean, why else do you think you ended up with me all these times your master was out? It’s because I told the others to let me train you even if it was temporary.”

“I had no idea, Master Skywalker,” you say truthfully, but also surprised at what you were hearing right now.

“I think we’re past all the formalities, don’t you? Call me Anakin,” he says.

“Anakin, I had no idea,” you correct yourself.

“That’s better. Now do you want to take this somewhere a little more… private?” he asks.

“Like where?” you ask playfully.

“Perhaps my quarters?” he suggests.

“I’d like that,” you say with an ear to ear grin, clearly showing you had gotten over your shyness.

“Follow me then,” he says before reaching his hand out to yours. You take his hand before he walks the two of you out of the room and into the dark halls of the the temple. The two of you look for anyone who may be lurking in the halls, but there’s no one. Before you know it, you guys have reached his room and that’s when he hastily opens the door and slams it just as hard.

He wastes no time before hungrily kissing you on the lips and pushing you against the wall of his room. The kiss is primarily fueled by pent-up desire that had been built up in the two of you for what seemed like forever.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this... wanted you," you pant against his lips.

"Trust me...I do," Anakin clarifies. He then moves his lips and latches them onto your neck, sucking roughly at the surrounding skin.

"Anakin..." you whine.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he responds.

"I want you to fuck me," you confess.

"You do, huh?" he rhetorically asks, already knowing the answer you would give him.

"Please Ani.. don't tease me," you pathetically say. You know how you sound right now, but you're too lost in the moment to care about any of that.

"Anything for you, baby," he coos.

With that, he swiftly grabs your hips before letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He guides the two of you toward his bed and gently lays you down. "I'm gonna treat you so well that you won't be able to think about any other man besides me... gotta have you all to myself, baby," Anakin says full of passion while undressing you until you're all bare for him and only him. He knows you want to undress him, but he stops you before you can even lay a hand on any of his garments. He starts to strip himself of any and all clothes he previously had on and maker, his body did not disappoint. Despite his age, he had kept most of the lean physique he had when he was in his twenties. His abs were sculpted to absolute perfection. The way his waist was so defined practically had you drooling. He was perfect in every way. Even his dick was. It was all red at the tip and sat upright, but the thing that stood out the most was how long and thick it was.

"Eyes up here, darling," he says with a slight laugh.

"I don't know if I can take all of that," you shamefully admit.

"You want it though, don't you?" Anakin asks.

"Yes."

That was all you had to say before he positioned himself on the bed and instantly inserted himself inside your tight pussy, giving you no time to adjust to his size as he thrusts into your greedy walls. You immediately felt full of his thick cock and felt yourself clench around him.

"Need to train this hole if you're gonna be all mine," he grits.

"Please!" you cry out, digging your nails into his defined shoulders, which only eggs him on even further.

"Need to ruin you for any other guys, yeah?" he goes on.

You can only nod your head yes due to the newfound pleasure filling your body. No other man had made you feel this good. Maybe it was because one of them had experience like Anakin did. Relationships were strictly forbidden for Jedi to have, but there were rumors about Senator Padme Amidala being pregnant with Anakin's children. You thought they were merely rumors, but that was before you had his cock deep inside your weeping cunt, thrusting until you were all raw and sore. Before tonight, you never knew that's what you wanted.

"Harder!" you beg of him.

"Poor little thing... hasn't been full of my cock for more than 5 minutes and is already begging for more" he tuts.

"Please, daddy!" you scream.

"That's right baby," he says in a soft yet promising tone.

Fulfilling your needs, he spreads your legs even further to get an even better angle of your pussy before animalistically pounding his fat cock into your swollen walls. You couldn't help but loudly moan at his movements. You knew you were giving other people the chance to hear what was going on, but you were too cock drunk to care. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the thin walls of the room and probably the entire hall, as a matter of fact. You felt too full to even form coherent thoughts. He wasn't planning on slowing down anytime soon now that you had given him the green light to go harder. He wouldn't stop until you were a crying mess.

A familiar feeling started to form as you saw stars in your blurred vision. You felt a rope of heat fill your stomach and knew you wouldn't be able to hold off for much longer.

"'M so close Master...please let me cum!" you cry out.

"Just hold on for a bit longer... wanna make you feel as good as possible," he replies. You nod your head at this and comply with his words. He suddenly then ruts his hips even rougher on yours, knowing you would be bruised for days to come.

"I'm gonna-" you start to say.

"Let go for me baby. I've got you... cum all over my cock."

With his permission, you finally let go and spill all over him while he's still fucking you through it. He groans at the feeling of your warmth around his hard cock and cums shortly after. He pulls out of you before lying down next to you. "You did so well for me, darling," he says in a reassuring manner.

Just as you're about to speak, there's a sudden knock on the door that alerts the two of you. The two of you rush to put your clothes on, not wanting to answer the door naked for whoever is on the other side. Once the two of you are fully dressed, Anakin opens the door and it's none other than your master Obi-Wan.

Shit, the two of you were screwed.

"I see that the two of you are finally done engaging in....activities. However, please remember that some of us were forced to listen to your obscenities. Please come with me otherwise you will be dealing with far worse!" he says in an almost lecturing dad tone.

This was gonna be a long night.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin star wars #hayden christensen #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #attack of the clones

[wildemaven]

strangers : fog | dave york

pairing: dave york x f!reader word count: 5208 chapter warning's: 18+ blog: established relationship, workaholic Dave, soft Dave, miscommunication, Smut (slight exhibitionism, dry humping, orgasms, keeping kind of vague for the sake of not giving things away), implied/alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn’t know this), Dave’s phone makes an appearance- shocking, drinking alcohol, smoking cigarettes, conversations with bestie, reader is mentioned wearing lingerie and a bathing suit- but zero description features, no age given but it’s implied she’s at least over 30, no y/n, this is au- no Carol (at least not canon Carol) or kids, if I missed anything let me know notes: I kind of struggled with the end of this one. It felt very flat and blah, but thankfully @gnpwdrnwhiskey Is a gem and helped me, and it feels good now. So grateful for all of you who’ve been following along. Xoxo

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It’s sweet. 

But not the kind of sweet that aches and destroys your addiction. 

It’s perfect. Just enough. 

The kind of sweet that falls somewhere in the middle. Satiating that deep seeded craving that burns through your every fiber. 

Like a glass of ice cold tea under the Texas sun, sweetened to perfection. Each tantalizing drop coating your tongue, idly encompassing every single taste bud with refreshing pleasure. 

You're greedy. Reveling in your consumption. Take. Take. Take. Because it’s all you want and everything you’ve been needing. 

Finally.

You feel him everywhere. The weight of him is substantial, pressing you into the side of the pool. A secure grip onto the ledge, the swell of his biceps flexed as he does his best to keep you both suspended and unmoving from your secluded spot. 

He’s a blistering summer heatwave, one you’re fully hydrated and prepared for, but still stunned by its sultriness. 

“You think they’re watching us right? All of them so fucking jealous at how good I’m makin’ you feel.” You don’t bother to take a look when he says it, your head angled back and eyes closed as his lips work their way up your neck, your only concern at the moment. 

“Mmhmm— I honestly don’t care. Let them watch. Let them see how good you’re taking care of me— fuckbaby!” Your train of thought derailed when his hips jerk up with a little more eagerness than you expected. 

The cool water laps rhythmically against you both. The tiniest of splashes to your exposed skin as it surrounds your bodies, relieving the heat that’s burning through you. 

“Ahh!” You gasp at the sensation of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Nipping and pulling. The gentle glide of his tongue soothing over the pleasant sting. 

“Sorry—“ He manages to get out. “Didn’t mean to be so rough, but also been wantin’ this so fuckin’ bad.”

His lips seal over yours again, groaning where he can feel you grinding against him, discreetly hidden below the surface of the water. Your legs wrapped tightly around his narrow waist, holding him as close as possible. 

He’s unbelievably hard. Cock nudging against your aching core, the water aiding in the flow of your hips moving over him in search of relief. 

“I’m definitely not complaining in the slightest. If anything, I’m entirely enjoying the roughness— wouldn’t be opposed to more of it.” You say smiling against his swollen lips. 

Your words lure him back in, driven by a deeper sense of want forging beneath the water. Lashes fluttering shut as every bit of him consumes your senses. All tongues and teeth, tracing over every ridge and fleshy surface. A sweet delicate dance of unbridled emotions. 

It's a slow building, intensely breathtaking. Your body ignited by self-indulgent energy, so hell-bent on seeking out unrivaled satisfaction, but you don’t seem to care. Focused solely on how each and every nerve lights up because of him, desperately wanting a release. A natural response to the way he’s holding you, kissing you, his determination to bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Fuck— that feels so good!” Breathless and anchoring yourself to his warm body. 

“Yeah? You think you can come like this?” One of his hands settles on your hip, helping your unfaltering movements, hitting that ever so desirable spot just right. “There you go, gorgeous— just like that.”

“ohmygod!! I’m so close— don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.“ Your grip secure on his taut shoulders, unmoving even under the wet conditions. Your head falling onto his forehead, noses nudging, exchanging desperate wordless breaths. 

“I’ve got ya.” He whispers, nodding softly as your body writhes against him. “Come for me, Baby.”

“Oh fuck! oh fuck! oh fuck— I’m coming!” Everything dissolves into pleasure. Tense and blissed out as your cunt contracts around nothing. 

“Open your eyes, Baby. Let me see you come undone.”

You pull back just enough to see him. He’s beautiful, framed in a hazy white vignette. His patchy beard is both rough and soft beneath your fingertips, tracing over every little detail of him while you still can. His rich brown eyes now a golden hue as the light hits them from the reflection of the water.  

“Fuck— Joel!”

You’re floating. Further and further away. Every detail of him slowly dissolving into nothingness. 

Your body jolts awake, Oh god, That felt so fucking real. Quickly sitting up, your hand to your chest feeling where your heart is frantically pounding. 

The dry air from the vent billows out from above you, cooling as it skims over your tacky skin. 

The remnants of last night's headache still remain. Though it wanes in intensity, the throbbing pain continues. Rubbing at your temples, the added pressure doing absolutely nothing. 

There’s a faint familiar ache that catches your attention from below the sheets, prompting you to throw them off, finding a pillow still tucked tightly between your legs. The experimental squeeze of your thighs around the pillow sends a fresh ripple of pleasure from your fading orgasm, causing you to inhale sharply. Your palms clamping over your mouth, breath more constricted than the last as a strong feeling of shame begins to surge through your veins. 

The hotel room feels paralyzing, especially with Dave sleeping beside you. 

The beach. 

Needing some fresh air and some time to collect your irrational thoughts, away from this confined space where everything seems to be closing in on you. Hastily, you manage to pull on some warm clothes and sandals while throwing your wallet and phone in your purse without waking Dave.

You know the minute he wakes up to find you gone he’ll panic. It will take only minutes to have all his agent buddies pulling maps and running background checks on anyone who lives within a mile radius of the hotel. You’re already annoyed with his distant behavior, you don’t have it in you to deal with the added disgruntlement that will ensue. 

Grabbing for the monogrammed hotel stationary, you scratch out a note to leave on this nightstand for him to find when he does wake. 

Good Morning, Babe Couldn’t sleep. Went for a walk down to the beach. I have my phone. Will be back in a bit.  Love you Xoxo

You two his phone screen, noting the time at the bottom— 8:00 am —a little tactic Dave had ingrained in you for matters as such, giving a starting point in the case anything were to happen to you, taking the guessing game of when out of the equation. 

A New Message glows on the screen, came in sometime last night after you both got back from dinner, he must have fallen asleep before seeing it. 

Double checking, you peek over the mound of blankets that is Dave’s solid body— still sleeping. The side of his face buried into his pillow and his plush lips parted. No worry lines etched across his forehead. No tension pulling at his jawline. His perfectly groomed hair, all disheveled and twisted in all directions. 

Your heart blooms at how handsome he is, his truest self on full display. A running joke between you, how others would be disappointed to find out his grumpy exterior is all a show, only reserving his softer side and big heart for you. 

Refocusing back to his phone, you tap the message to preview it— a message from his mom. 

Mom: Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then. 

Did she find out? Find out what?

*

The beach isn’t far from the hotel. Grateful for only a few hellos and forced smiles exchanged on the shared path on the short walk.

The air is crisp the closer you get to the water, a light breeze blows over the shoreline bringing tiny bits of sand crystals through the air. You can feel the salt already crystallizing against your cheeks. 

The lingering fog adds a bit of gloom to the atmosphere as you look out over the horizon in front of you. The white caps of the waves slowly roll over into the next, pushing their way through until they’ve reached the shore. The water fanning out as it moves, blanketing over the sand as it reaches where feet are planted firmly, now surrounded by the frigid sea water. Then it slowly slinks back out, leaving you numb as you wait for it to return. 

Good Morning! Are you busy?  No. Are you okay? Yeah, I’m fine. I just need someone to talk to.  One sec!

It takes a few flicks of the small metal dial for the flame to ignite, cupping your hand around to shelter it from the light wind threatening to squash your attempt at some sort of relief. 

It’s instant when it hits the back of your mouth, swirling and stinging about as it creeps up the back of your throat. That burn is all too familiar, no longer a regular occurrence, but definitely not forgotten. It takes the edge off momentarily, it always does. You imagine blowing out all your pent up anger as your release the smoke into the oceanic air. 

The cigarette sits between your fingers with ease, secure against those first knuckles as you bring it back to your lips for another desperate pull. That dedicated drag of your favorite menthol smokes had once been a regular part of your daily life in your college days. Getting you through long days of studying and working late hours, barely keeping your head above the water. Pack after pack. Light, smoke, tension gone, repeat. 

Eventually it was downgraded to a social practice before finally kicking the habit all together. Something Dave never pushed for, but was proud of you nonetheless. 

Your phone screen illuminates and buzzes simultaneously, a picture of Jacey double fisting some beers at last year's Fourth of July party pops up. The image alone already makes you feel better. 

“Mmm… Hello?” You can tell she just woke up by the way she garbles her words into the phone. 

“Hey, Jacey. I didn’t wake you did I?”

“Mhmm— Kind of but it’s okay— had a bit of a late night, but it’s fine. How are things going?”

“Fine. Good. Things are good.” Trying hard to keep your voice even without giving away too much— but she knows you too well. 

“I’m calling bullshit. You’re seriously the worst liar ever. Spill.” 

“Ugh. Where do I even start?” You tell her, audibly groaning into the brisk pacific air. 

“I’ve got some time.” 

Jacey has always been this way. Available whenever you’ve needed her, at a moment's notice. Connecting with her in college, your friendship has been a steady source of support and encouragement through the years. She stood by you when you married Dave— having her now makes you feel less alone. 

“Well, if it’s not one thing it’s another. There were some high hopes for sex when we got in the other night,  then he passed out— which is fine ‘cause traveling and what not. But I got in my head, questioning shit about myself and our relationship. Like maybe it’s me or something. He did try to initiate the next morning but I just kind of wasn’t feeling it— so we didn’t. Plus he had phone calls he needed to make so he wasn’t worrying about them the rest of our time here.”

“Hey, it’s not you at all. Don’t ever think that. You’re a catch— Dave knows that too.” She says, her reassurance firm but delivered sincerely. 

“Thank you. I mean, we kind of fooled around at the pool yesterday.”

“Ooooh!! I love this for you.”

“Well, then he ran off right before I— you know.”

“Fucking men, I swear.”

“Only to find him on the phone when he said he wouldn’t be. Then he was all jealous over this stranger I was talking to. We got back to the room, things seemed a little tense— we still went to dinner. Don’t really remember much after that, because I kept ordering dirty martinis at dinner.”

After hearing the beginning of his phone call, the shower didn’t do much to help. You didn’t want to make a scene, deciding to just leave the hurt bubbling inside of you back in the room and make the best of the rest of the night. 

Dave seemed pretty much his normal self going into dinner. Conversation was lighter than it was earlier in the room. You both caught up on things that you hadn’t really talked about in a while— details about his latest assignments (within reason), your own latest work projects, random tidbits about things —things felt normal.

There was a slight shift in the evening, when he was checking his phone more often than usual. Glancing at the screen between bites of his steak then trying to figure out where you left off in the conversation. 

You hadn’t even planned on drinking, but the chilled cocktail in front of Dave had been taunting you, begging to help obliterate your lingering thoughts. Then it was I’ll have another, Maybe one more, Suuuuure another sounds grreat. The dim restaurant turned into hazy fractures of light. The steady buzz of alcohol had you feel giggling and sleepy, slumping back into the velvet cushion of the intimate booth. Dave cut you off before things turned into a wild evening, shifting from your introverted self into a very lively and friendly drunk. 

You don’t even remember getting back to the room, just brief glimpses of Dave undressing you and helping you into one of his shirts, then tucking you into bed. 

“Hold up. Rewind— you fucking hate martinis! What the hell happened?!” She knows you so well. 

“Jacey, you’re my best friend. Someone who will be straight with me no matter what. I think— Do you think Dave is cheating on me?” You ask meekly, inhaling another minty pull from your nearly finished cigarette. 

“What?! Babe, why would you think Dave is cheating on you? Did something happen?”

““No— I mean yes. I think so. Fuck! I don't know what to think. We got back to the room after the pool yesterday, talked for a little bit then I went to get ready for dinner. I guess he thought I closed the door or something but I could hear him talking to someone—“ You try to keep your voice steady, finding it hard to blink the tears away as the wind whips around you. 

“Okay. Well, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s cheating on you. It could have just been more work shit he said he wasn’t going to do. Maybe he figured he could squeeze it in before dinner— not wanting to upset you.” Jacey is all about layout the facts and details before jumping down dark rabbit holes. 

“Ashley— Her name is Ashley. I heard him say her name.” 

There’s a beat of silence on the line before you hear her sigh. 

“Oh— what else did you hear?” She says, sounding a little more somber than before. 

“Nothing. My brain kind of went blank after that and I just got ready for dinner like I didn’t hear anything. Hence the abundance of martinis I drank my way through. Which also explains the slight headache I woke up with this morning.”

“Okay. So whoever he was talking to—“

“Ashley.” Details Jacey. 

“Right, Ashley. We don’t really know much, aside from that. So it could be anyone. Could be work related— Ashley could be a last name too. You know how they always do that last name first thing for whatever reason.” Somehow she always finds a way to get you to back away from the cliff, especially when your feet are over the edge. 

“Yeah, probably.” You say softly in agreement. A flock of birds catching your attention, their wings moving in unison as they fly overhead. 

“Look, like you said before— I’m gonna be straight with you. I don’t think Dave is cheating or would ever cheat. That man loves you. Sure, he’s kind of been a little too invested in work, which is affecting things with you. I don’t think there’s someone else. I promise. But I do think you both need to talk instead of this weird dance you both are doing, that way you’re both on the same page.”

“Okay. Yeah— you’re right. Thank you, Jace. Last thing— Does it make me a bad person if I had a dream about another man last night?” You ask, feeling a bit embarrassed as you voice it out loud. 

“I have those all the time— especially with that cute actor from that narcos show we love. Dreams don’t equate to real life.” She only slightly laughs at your confession. 

“What if it was with a guy I met at the pool who’s staying in the hotel, who listened to me spill my life away about how I’m not sure if my husband wants kids or not now— and how marriage feels like a mess.” 

“Oh! Pool guy was cute— No, I don’t think that makes you a bad person. Your thoughts are just all over the place right now. It was a dream. You’re fine. Hey, I hate to bail on you— but I’m umm, getting another call. We will chat soon, then you can give me more details about the cute pool guy. Love you!”

“Love you too, Jace. Talk soon. Bye.”

The call clicks out. Waves crashing onto the shore brings you back to the beach. Your cheeks cold and feet stinging as the water recedes again. 

It's nearing 10 am now, deciding to head back before Dave does in fact worry that you’ve been gone for too long. You snuff out the smoldering cigarette in the wet sand and stick it in your bag to dispose of later. The added nicotine now mingles poorly with your lingering hangover, body in desperate need of water and a strong pain reliever. 

On your way back to the hotel, you take every bit of what Jacey said and truly let it sink in, even as hard as it is to not let your mind wander into dark territory. She’s right though, it doesn’t do you any good to dwell on situational events if you have zero proof of anything. That doesn’t mean that you’ve written off your uneasiness completely, just simply tucking it away for the time being. 

The sweet bellmen welcomes you back with a friendly smile and a wave as he holds the door open for your return. The lobby now bustles with more guests than earlier. Some checking in for their stay, others enjoying the picturesque ambience of the hotel. 

In the time that it takes to get up to your room, you’ve run through several different scenarios in your head. All feeling immensely overwhelming at the thought of talking with Dave about how you’ve been feeling since he hasn’t seemed to pick up on the subtle inklings that there’s been a definite shift in your relationship the past few months. You’re not really sure you even want to have the conversation now, let alone here— not wanting to ruin the rest of the vacation in the chance things don’t go as smoothly as you want. You ultimately decide to wait, once you’ve settled back in at home, finally address everything with him.

You can hear Dave’s voice muffled outside the door of your room as you search for your key card in your bag, sounding as if he’s talking to someone on the phone. 

The room is bright as you enter, the curtains pulled open allowing the sun to shine through the large windows. The bed is somewhat made with the pillows stacked neatly and sheets straightened in an orderly Dave manner. 

Food had already been ordered and delivered, set out on the small table on the balcony. Your favorite breakfast of eggs benedict and toast along with a fresh pot of coffee. Dave’s usual eggs and bacon sit untouched, waiting for your return to enjoy breakfast together. 

Dave’s standing in front of the window, looking out at the scenery with his phone to his ear, but the sound of you entering the room has him turning towards you. 

His hair is freshly washed, combed up and out of his face. Wearing his favorite blue jeans snug around his hips, a white patterned shirt just barely buttoned to reveal enough of his slightly burnt chest to make your mouth water. It’s his beaming smile, arguably his best accessory, that makes your chest flutter, drawing you in closer to where he’s standing. 

“It’s my mother.” He whispers, covering the phone with his hand as she continues to talk into his ear. 

Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then. Still wondering what her vague text message meant. 

“Yeah, Mom. She just walked through the door.” You hear her mention your name through the speaker. “My mom says hi.”

“Hi, Carol.” You say sweetly, kissing Dave’s cheek before turning to place your bag on the ground near the dresser, leaning back on the wall, watching Dave as he finishes the rest of the conversation. 

“Okay, sounds good…Tell dad hello for us and we’ll talk to you later… Love you, too… bye.” The screen of his phone goes black and he tosses it over to the bed. 

Grabbing a glass and some small pills resting on the dresser, closing the short distance to where you’re standing and holding the water and pain reliever out to you.

“I figured your head is probably killing you this morning.” Dave says smiling at you, no sign of annoyance in his face. 

“Thanks— Sorry about last night. I don’t know what got into me.” Tossing back the pills back, gulping the water down quickly, your focus on the remaining drops of water sliding down the side of the glass, pooling together at the bottom. 

Dave takes the glass from you, setting it over on the top of the dresser. One of his hands settles on your hip as the other tilts your chin up so your gaze is now directed at him. 

“Did you have a good walk?” Dave asks. One of his warm hands now cupping the side of your neck, surely he can feel the way your pulse is quickening, elevated just by a simple touch from him. 

“Yeah. It was nice— foggy, but beautiful. We should go again before we leave.” Your hands migrate to his shirt, fingers absentmindedly toying with the top abandoned buttons and soft silky fabric.

“Umm— I can smell the smoke on you. It’s fine, I don’t mind that you were— but is everything okay?” He knows, senses something is off, because he knows you don’t just smoke to smoke these days. Senses there’s something that triggered your need for your old vice, something to dull out whatever is silently bothering you. 

Yet somehow you have almost forgotten about the cigarette until now when he asks. Feeling a bit of shame for the second time again this morning, though you don’t pick up on any sort of judgment when he does ask about it. 

“Everything is fine. Just sounded good so I bought them on my way to the beach— don’t think I’ll even finish the pack though. I’m good.” Liar. You hate the way Dave winces at your answer. He knows there’s something simmering below the surface, but he doesn’t push for more. 

“Okay— okay. There’s breakfast here and I was thinking afterwards we could go to some shops or something. I made reservations for tonight at 6, I thought you might want to find something new to wear. Maybe we can grab some lunch near the beach too.” He tells you, brushing off the small specks of sand cemented to your face. 

You find yourself on the brink of tears, swallowing the little lump that started to form in your throat. Certain the next few days would be filled with worriment and noiseless vexation. There’s almost relief in hearing how he’s planned out the day, something he hasn’t done in months. Work and meetings always at the forefront of his planning lately, leaving little to no time for dinners or regular weekend getaways. 

“Or we can stay in if you want.” His head tilts a little, brown eyes scanning over every detail of your face as you mull over his plans a little longer than he expected. 

“No, that sounds nice. I brought some dresses that I can wear though, we don’t have to buy anything.” You shake your head in response. Pushing a few loose strands that had fallen out of place, his eyes closing at the sensation of your fingers combing through his hair. 

“We can just look, and if you find something you like we can get it.” Dave suggests— a nice middle ground. 

He leans in, his nose knocking against yours, humming as you continue to play with his hair. 

“Okay.” You breathe out, his intense eye contact starting to ignite something within you. 

“You’re sure everything’s okay?” Offering you another opportunity to bare it all out for him. 

His lips graze over yours when he asks, just enough to have you wanting more. 

“Yeah. Everything is fine— promise.” 

“Alright. Let’s get some food in you and then we can get ready to head out. And there’s coffee—” His thought abandoned, his lips crashing into yours in a passionate kiss. 

You eagerly respond, wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses you further into the wall. Your head swirling with want, thrilled at the fact that he’s so keen to give you exactly what you’ve been craving. The scent of his cologne mixed with the musky smell of him fills your senses, making you weak for him even more.

His tongue explores your mouth, tangled together in a heated dance as your bodies grind against each other, arousal growing with each passing moment. 

His hands roam freely over your body, stopping at your hips to pull you in even closer has you gasping into his mouth.  

“Fuck— Dave!”

“Yeah— that feel good, Baby?” Dave’s hard almost instantly, pressing against you as you slowly grind on him. You're scorching from the friction of your bodies, the coil already winding in your lower abdomen, shivers tingling up your spine.

“Yes!! Oh god, yes!! So good, Dave!” You cry out. The heat between you unbearable, the need for release is all consuming—- more more more. 

Dave’s lips fuse to yours again, dragging one hand down between your bodies. He slips under the waistband of your leggings, deft fingers finding the damp fabric of your panties, a sticky mess because of him. He’s enlivened by the way your body writhes as a result of his touch. Fingers circling over your clit in a deliberate frenzied manner, causing you to release a breathy moan into his mouth.

“You think you can come right here? I’m not gonna last much longer.” He says breaking the kiss. His eyes are filled with a burning desire as he looks at you. You nod, encouraging him to continue his ministrations, before he’s capturing your lips again. 

You whine at the loss of his fingers moving over your aching bundle of nerves, your body in dire need of his touch now that he’s giving you all of it. 

Dave’s hands slip under your top, fingers trailing over your pebbled skin as he pulls it up and over your head. You help him, tossing it aside, leaving you in only your lace bra and bottoms as you lean back against the coolness of the wall, chest heaving with need.

“More— pl-please, I’m almost there. ohfuckyesyesyes!.” His hands explore your body, memorizing every curve and dip with a new surge of want and urgency, his fingers trailing down your back to grip your ass and pulling you closer— sparks of pleasure blazing through you nearing a fiery release. 

‘I know baby, I’ve got you’ murmured against your neck, his words riddled with assurance as he sucks on the sensitive skin there. 

Your hands grip his shoulders as he continues to explore you with his mouth, caressing every inch of you as he makes his way down to your chest, pulling the fabric of your bra down, his fingers gliding over the tight skin. He cups the weight of your breast in his hand, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, teeth gently nipping as you moan louder and louder, while his other hand fondles and twists at your other side. 

“Oh fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come—“ You gasp, arching your back, your nails digging into Dave’s shoulders has him clamping down harder on your overly sensitive nipple. The pleasing painful sting shoots straight to your core, your velvet walls pulsating, your climax within reach.

A pleasurable ache builds for the second time this morning, except this time it’s because of Dave. All your pent up emotions forging together, building into the most magnificent wave of arousal you’ve felt in a long time. 

You pull his face up to meet yours, lips messily crashing against his in another bliss driven kiss. His hard cock straining behind the tightness of his jeans, tilting your cunt at the perfect angle while hoping Dave is reaping the benefits of your euphoric pursuit as you grind down on the rough seam of his denim that helps careen you over the edge. 

It’s like a dream— except it's not, it’s better. Real and satiating. Your orgasm is forceful as it rips through you, taking every bit of residual tension along with it. 

Dave’s movements become faster and more charged. His hips moving in a stuttering pattern— fuckfuckfuck —then stilling as a deep groan barrels through his chest. You wrap a leg around him as he collapses into you, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, holding him tightly to your body. 

A breeze blows through the open balcony door, diffusing the layer of sexual haze wafting through the room. The air is welcoming, enveloping your bodies in the crispness that comes with being in close proximity to the Pacific. 

It feels lighter. Less suffocating— even with the weight of your husband holding you against the wall. The low lying fog no longer a dense cloud looming over you, allowing the brightness to fully shine through. 

The turbulent thoughts have settled, replaced with a mildness that seems more manageable for the time being. Your headache becomes a subsiding dullness, overpowered by the replenishment of a compelling desire. 

“Shit— I came in my fucking pants like a goddamn teenager. Couldn’t even make it to the bed.” He says, post sexual vibrato etched into his voice, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone as he lifts himself up to his full height. 

Dave’s skin is glowing, a sheen of sweat glistening in the morning light. His cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink, the muscles in his neck flexing as he worked to control his breathing. The silkiness of his shirt now damp and stuck to his chest. 

“Hmm. I feel too good to even care. You have no idea how bad I needed that.” You smile at him, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, brushing a few fallen strands of hair away from his face. 

The corner of his eyes crinkle. He’s beaming, infatuated with you as he leans in, resting his forehead on yours and whispers, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?.” 

“Love you too, Dave.”

#Dave York #dave york x reader #Dave York x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #pedrostories

[nartothelar]

AU were Emmets selfcare and self preservation subconiously takes form of Ingo to stop him from doing unhealthy things or destroying his own body.

Has the negative side effect of Emmet keep doing things because he is "with Ingo in a way".

Honestly sounds interesting and could also lead into a Emmet gets therapy situation.

(On the other hand the image of Ingo having this unknown man in white encouraging to keep going and avoid danger even if his amnesia sometimes frustrates him would also serve as a nice parallel. He doesn't know who he is but everytime he gets told to keep on going he can't help but do what he says)

subconcious Guardian Angel?

Hmm! That’s pretty much what this smoking series is sorta doing? These visages of Ingo are just his own subconscious (and old memories of his brother) trying to get him to not fall into old habits sksksk Emmet cares and depends on routines in his life, so having “Ingo” there, even if its not really him, aids as a reminder to not derail too much -> coping mechanism

As for Ingo’s case, this “man in white” that keeps appearing in front of him mostly appears only when he’s in danger, as a sort of “third man factor” phenomenon, to help guide him/encourage him to safety, which is something that has happened to actual people and something super interesting to read about!

“Subconscious guardian angel” au is an extrEMELY cool au name tho and I might have to snatch it whenever I draw something similar to these comics sksksks

#AWESOME NAME #ask #subconscious guardian angel au #tw blood #tw injury #tw impalement

[moxie-girl]

ASL+U Alice in Borderland AU!!

loads more lore for the AU under the cut!!!!

♠ACE

Ace entered the Borderlands alone, but soon teamed up with Sabo after seeing his skills in ♦ games. He’s aware that Sabo is probably using him for his strength, but he feels confident that he could take him if he tried anything. (Whether this is true remains to be seen.) Quick to anger, Ace has been fired from multiple jobs for insulting customers, but his temper proves its worth in keeping him away from untrustworthy ♥ players. Despite being skilled in many different forms of martial arts, Ace tends to fight dirty, which often catches opponents by surprise in ♠ games. He was arrested several times for suspected arson, and while the claims were never proven, his go-to weapons in the Borderlands include a lighter, and later, a makeshift flamethrower. While initially slow to trust, once he is comfortable around the others he becomes an overprotective and even doting big brother, not that he’d ever admit it.

♦SABO

Sabo entered the borderlands with a few of his co-workers, and was immediately thrown into a ♥ game with only one survivor. (It’s okay, he didn’t really like them anyway.) Initially, he teamed up with Ace to cover for his own weaknesses - while he’s decently fit, many ♠ games require athletics even beyond his level - but he unwillingly began to get attached. Sabo has a special knack for noticing the tricks or loopholes in ♦ and ♥ games, making him an extremely valuable player to work with. An investigative journalist before the Borderlands, he specialized in exposé articles, though many never got published due to companies paying the newspaper to keep quiet. He understands the risks of getting attached to other players, but all the same he can’t stop himself from caring for the others to the point that he’d probably trade his life for theirs, despite being a player who’d usually do anything to survive.

♣LUFFY

Luffy met both Ace and Sabo in a ♣ game that required players to work in groups of three. They tried to ditch him after the game, but were unsuccessful, and eventually decided to keep him around for his skills. While he seems incredibly trusting, Luffy has a keen eye for when someone is actually trustworthy, and survived several ♥ games on his own despite other players trying to take advantage of him. He is incredibly athletic and skilled at ♠ games as well, but his true strength is his ability to bring groups of people together and help them trust each other, even if it’s just for a short time. Luffy’s cheerful attitude despite the situation endears him to Ace and Sabo quickly, and they both find themselves getting attached to him. In the process of this, the two of them also begin to trust each other for real, although they try to deny this at first.

♥UTA

Uta is an incredibly famous idol known for her cheerful, hopeful personality. In reality, she’s merely playing a role she knows the audience loves the most, and she’s actually envious of those types of happy people. (Sometimes, she secretly wishes she was really like them.) In the Borderlands, Uta’s attitude serves her well, as does her fame, and she’s tricked many other players into doing hard work for her. The poker face of her preppy facade is another thing that makes her so skilled at ♥ games, and she’s much smarter than she lets on, playing up her attitude even more in ♦ games to goad opponents into making mistakes. Uta was saved by Luffy in a ♥ game when she was almost killed by a dealer she thought she was controlling, and under the guise of owing him, she travels with ASL for a little while. However, her plans of sacrificing the trio to clear more games are derailed almost immediately by Luffy’s endless optimism.

OTHER PLAYERS

♠KOBY

Koby was initially rather meek, despite having decent physical skills and having taken self-defense lessons for years (in an attempt to stop his bullies). However, after a chance encounter with Luffy, Koby develops his self-confidence and teams up with a group of other players including Helmeppo(♦) and Hibari(♣), realizing his abilities as a skilled ♠ player.

♣LAW

Law is the head surgeon of a prestigious hospital, and he and many of his co-workers were transported to the Borderlands at the same time. They formed a tight-knit team who all trust each other deeply. While Law is good at ♦ and ♥ games, his role as the head of the hospital group and skill at planning and directing the team means his true specialties lie in ♣ games.

♦KIDD

Kidd, despite his rough appearance, is actually an incredibly skilled engineer and one of the smartest ♦ players in the Borderlands. That’s not to say he isn’t also incredibly fit, though most of the fighting is left to his partner Killer(♠). He lost an arm trying to dismantle a piece of game tech, but he built a prosthetic and has continued trying to shut the games down. 

♥BONNEY

Bonney, at only 12 years old, is possibly the youngest player still alive in the Borderlands. Unintentionally, because of her age, more cynical players will sometimes sacrifice themselves to keep her alive. She carries this guilt with her, but doesn’t let it affect her worldview - her strong, trusting attitude makes her surprisingly skilled at ♥ games, and she’s no slouch at ♣ either. 

♠KOALA

Koala is a karate instructor who mainly stuck to herself after losing her previous group to a particularly brutal ♥ game. She has a particularly strong hatred for the game masters and wants nothing more than to give them a good beating. When Sabo gets separated from his group by the ♠K, she saves him and eventually joins his group when they reunite. 

♦DEUCE

Deuce is a medical student who took to hiding his face in an attempt to “re-invent” himself in the Borderlands. His skills as even a trainee doctor are invaluable, and he meets Ace in a ♣ game and eventually joins his group to help with ♦ games. Once he escapes the Borderlands, he plans to write a novel about his experiences, though he doubts anyone would read it.

THE STRAWHATS

I’m sure you’ve noticed that none of the Strawhats are listed here! That’s because Luffy meets them when he is thrust into yet another life-threatening accident after the Borderlands, and is pulled back into another, albeit smaller game. As the only person there who has experience with the games, he manages to keep them alive and the crew becomes close friends once they escape again. (After Ace, Sabo, and Uta beat Luffy half to death for scaring them like that.)

♦: Usopp, Chopper, Robin

♠: Zoro, Sanji, Franky

♣: Vivi, Jinbe

♥: Nami, Brook

#please read this i spent so fucking long on this #this au has totally consumed my brainnnn #one piece #alice in borderland #op #aib #crossover #au #asl #asl brothers #asul siblings #portgas d ace #monkey d luffy #sabo #ace #luffy #revolutionary sabo #uta one piece #koby #trafalgar law #eustass kidd #jewelry bonney #koala #deuce #adeuce #kobylu #saboala #kidkiller #<- ships for this au prolly #op x aib au

[tsukimefuku]

Tactics

You and Higuruma finally go on your first not-date when you finally decide to give him an answer.

Tags: +18! SMUT, Jujutsu Kaisen, WITH PLOT (I'm a plot whore), Higuruma x OC/f!reader, reader is definitely falling for him, this is going to get messy, bj, edging, penetration, m!top x f!bottom dynamic because Higuruma is clearly a switch and so is f!reader, Higuruma is sort of a little shit and you love it.

The song that inspired this: Tactics - The Yellow Monkey (on YouTube)

This is part of my "Jujutsu Partners Canon Divergence AU". A sequence of short stories and random drabbles for a Nanami x Reader x Higuruma long fic I might write. To see the ever-growing list of one-shots and short stories, please visit my masterlist :) 

Disclaimer these stories are NOT written and posted in chronological order of events. To see where this story fits in the timeline, please check the masterlist mentioned above. This takes place AFTER "Lover's Pass (Nxf!R)" and "The Event - Part 2 (Nxf!R)", that I'll post sometime along the next week.

The prickling feeling of love with you in the air, Biting into the rough sand, surrendering to the night. Won't you let me drink wine with those proud lips of yours soon? A man and a woman bound on a full moon night, eternally Intensely, lady, ah, gimme your love! Mysteriously, lady, I need your love! Occasionally, those lonely eyes you show, I can't tell if they're true or false. Honestly, lady, ah, gimme your love! Try to feel it, lady, I need your love! Swept away by your gestures, the passionate love dances within me.

— Tactics ☾ イエモン

Your face was flushed, but it wasn't due to the two glasses of wine you decided to drink that night. You and Higuruma were sitting across the table, officially on your first not-date with the man.

Earlier that day, you had called Higuruma, asking if he could meet you.

“Of course. It’s a date, then.” He answered on the other side, glad you called.

“No! It’s not a date! It’s a not-date.” You chided, barely noticing the blush on your face in the backseat of the car, whispering into the phone, while Ijichi drove you and Nanami to your next mission.

You heard a soft chuckle, and his voice was honeyed with delight. “Fine. Then let me take you to a not-dinner on our not-date. Okay?”

You could barely hold the smile forming on your lips as you said “yes. Sounds good.”

Then, after defeating the Lover's Pass curse with Nanami and having an emotionally charged conversation with him that didn't end well at all, you were on your way to meet Higuruma, to finally give him an answer. 

"So, what is it with you and Nanami Kento? You two seem very close." He asked, observant eyes on you, as he rested his chin on his hand, elbow on the table.

"Oh, you're a pretty straightforward guy, aren't you?" You asked, jokingly, taking a sip of wine. You were both in a restaurant, as he offered to take you to a not-dinner on your not-date. So you both decided on eating appetizers and share a half bottle of wine. After abusing your liver so much these past few days, you decided to definitely take it slow tonight.

"I like to think so." He smiled, avoiding a big witty comeback that could derail the conversation and help you avoid answering the question.

You sighed before responding. "We met around ten years ago, when I wasn't an actual Jujutsu sorcerer. He and Gojo came to my hometown, Odate, to work on a case that ended… Badly. After that, I left Odate. From what he's told me, that case was also the reason he left Jujutsu for years, too."

Higuruma was silently listening in between the clacks and clicks of glasses and cutlery that filled the restaurant.

"And how did you end up working for Jujutsu High a decade later?" He inquired.

"Gojo. He realized the higher ups were plotting to get me into 'custody' for working as a 'healer' under the radar around Japan, you might say, and he intervened, royally saving my ass." You chuckled, drinking some water and grabbing a plain dinner roll to take a bite. "He wanted to bring me here to Tokyo ever since we met at Odate, because he was sure I could learn reverse cursed technique to heal other sorcerers, but I was so angry at Jujutsu High at the time I couldn't bring myself to do it."

Higuruma tilted his head softly to the side, curious. "Why?"

"Long story short, the entire shitstorm in Odate happened because of their unethical ways of treating people outside the prized clans." You answered, sighing and leaning back on your chair. 

"Oh." 

"Yeah, ‘oh’ indeed." You shrugged. "Well, Gojo and Nanami are the two people in my life that still have some connection to my past, especially Nanami. We worked together on that mission from the first day to the last."

"I see."

"After I came to Tokyo, I started to go on assignments alongside Nanami for the first few months I was here. It was somewhat similar to our situation. I guess this is basically the entirety of the story. He became a close friend and someone I actually trust in the dirty world of Jujutsu." You concluded, taking an actual gulp of wine, trying to shove down your discomfort of talking about Nanami right now and having flashbacks of the night the both of you shared together. 

Somewhat satisfied with your answer, Higuruma leaned back on his chair too, starting to eat as he had his hawkish eyes trailing over you. His gaze was indecipherable, as you could almost hear the cogs turning in his head, seemingly… planning something? You could've sworn you saw the corner of his mouth twist up in a smirk.

***

You threw the keys over your tiny dinner table and invited Higuruma inside, as you both removed your shoes in the entry hall. When he made his way in, he was instantly overpowered by the multiple scents of different varieties of flowers and plants. Your entire apartment was covered with plant vases and greens, and had a beautiful light wooden floor that extended around the entire place. It was a little messy, but strangely welcoming, if you knew what to look for — somewhat like yourself.

"I'd like to talk and give you a proper answer, Hiromi." You said, sitting down on the couch, inviting him to sit beside you.

Higuruma nearly smirked at the sound of his name through your lips, but kept his composure. "About if we should continue our bedroom endeavors?" He answered, then smiling, as he sat beside you. 

You chuckled. "Yes. This not-date was lovely, but I don't know if we should proceed, and I'd like to talk about it."

The man hummed, kind of disapprovingly. "Here it comes. Tell me."

With a sigh, you began. "I have feelings for someone else. I do not intend to pursue any sort of relationship with this person, nor keep nurturing this, but I-"

"Did you like sleeping with me that night and would you like to continue?" He interrupted, looking at you, completely unbothered by what you were just saying.

You were taken aback. "What?"

"Would you like to keep having sex with me?" He inquired again. "I can tell you right now that I really enjoyed what we had that night, and definitely would like to do it many more times."

You were at a loss for words. "... I- I..."

"Stop thinking. This should come naturally. Just answer what comes first to your mind." Higuruma said, planting his hand over your knee while restraining himself from sliding his fingers up your thigh, knowing full well how that turned out the last time. He was very aware he'd have to navigate this with you carefully if you were to tell him how you truly felt, instead of running away, and he employed some of his old tactics to do so.

Interrupt you in the middle of a ready to go statement, surprise you with an unexpected question that addressed the main point he wanted to discuss, and rile you up in any way he could to lower your defenses. Truth was never calmly said — it was usually blurted out in shame or desperation. 

Your body trembled to his touch, and you were glad to be sober, or otherwise... Damn this man and how endearing, charming, and handsome he is. 

“So, what is your answer, my dear?” He inquired, pressing his hand over your knee. He was figuratively and literally pressuring the answer out of you.

"Yes. I liked it very much, and I'd very much like to do that more times." You spat out, smiling in utter embarrassment at your complete lack of self-control.

"Then that is the part which interests me," Higuruma responded, shamelessly leaning towards you with a gentle — yet mischievous — smile on his face, having you falling on your back in a second. He caged you in between his hands, holding the backrest with one hand, and the arm rest with the other. You put your hands over his chest and started breathing through your mouth.  You thought you should open the window, why is it so hot in here?

"Does it interest you?" This man knew, especially from your last pillow talk, you were like a bird. Prone to flying away at any sudden movements. So he decided to have a more active approach this time, because he knew exactly what he wanted — he wanted you.

"Yes. I-It does," you answered, body warm all throughout, as you looked at his mouth, biting your lips. 

That was all he needed. Higuruma buried his mouth to yours, pressing his tongue insistently against your lips. You welcomed him in, and his tongue teased yours as you began to take off his tie. He took both of your hands firmly using only one of his enormous hands, not squeezing them, still supporting himself to hover over you holding the couch's backrest. You halted your movements as he leaned back to look at you. "Not now."

His glassy eyed gaze and self-satisfied smile sent shivers down your spine, as he seemed to be taking bites out of you simply by looking. You smiled at him and asked, "bossy tonight?" 

"Kind of." he confessed, planting a quick kiss on your lips. Higuruma then got up, and kept looking at you, who was already becoming a little mess laying on your back, and nonchalantly put his hands in his pockets. "There is something I remember about the last time we did this dance, darling."

"Is there?" You asked, with half a smile, sitting up to look at him. "Is it the fact we seem to always start doing things on not-so-comfortable couches?"

He chuckled richly. "No. This time, it was a little intentional, not gonna lie." You were confused. "Last time, if I remember it correctly..."

"Oh, 'if you rememb-'"

Higuruma put his index finger over your mouth and instantly shut down your antics, making you go silent. "I'm speaking now, my dear." He smirked, sliding his finger under your chin, and proceeded. "If I remember it correctly, you got to finish twice. I only finished once. Does that sound fair to you?"

You shook your head, completely mesmerized at the effect he was having on you. You wanted to get on your knees immediately and unzip him, letting him face fuck you into oblivion, but waited, because at this moment he was leading the dance, and would dictate the next steps.

"So, do you have any idea how we could restore some balance?" Higuruma said, in a deep, gravely voice, as he lifted your face a little more, finally removing his finger from under your jaw.

Looking at the edge of his pants, your hands slowly made their way to unbutton them, but he held them in place. You whimpered, and he chuckled softly. "How do you say, darling?"

"Please?" You asked, rubbing your nose over his closed zipper. His erection was very evident at this point, and you huffed a blow of hot air over it, feeling his body vibrate softly.

"Good girl." Higuruma said, sliding his fingers through your hair, as you moaned to the sound of that. You unbuttoned his pants, unzipped him, and slowly removed them, alongside with his boxers, being met by his cock, already flushed with a red bulbous tip. 

"May I?"

He rested his thumb on your chin. "Put your tongue out."

You did as instructed, and could hear him groan at the sight of you presenting your mouth open, tongue sticking out to meet his needs. Higuruma grabbed his cock and grazed the tip over your tongue, moaning pleased, eliciting a whimper from you too. "Do you want it?" He asked, taunting you, brushing his tip, now slick with your saliva, around your upper lip. You nodded, both hands plastered over his thighs, longingly. 

In response to your nod, he used his free hand to delicately push your open mouth onto him, holding tightly to your hair as he did so. You felt you were already dripping in between your legs just to the taste of him, and began sliding your mouth up and down on his length, savoring it as you did so.

You made sure to press with your tongue every time you felt a particularly prominent vein, having Higuruma pulling his breath through his teeth in satisfaction. He began bucking his hips very gently, careful not to choke you, as you glazed his entire length with spit, moaning in appreciation. Even though he had you under his thumb right now, he was still very much preoccupied with you, so you put your hands on the sides of his hips, pushing him encouragingly. Following suit, his thrusts into your mouth became stronger and faster, starting to hit the back of your throat. You held your choking, and moaned louder, pressing his hips more urgently. He threw his head back, letting out a strained moan, as he began to effectively face fuck you with intent.

A few tears started pooling in your eyes, as you took his cock entirely into your mouth, eager to please him. Higuruma started to pump his girth sloppily into your mouth, panting, and asked, in-between moans, "can I come in your mouth?", to which you responded with a loud and muffled "mm-hmm". He then let go completely, bucking his hips with complete abandon against your mouth until you felt a warm splatter in the back of your throat, his cock pulsing as he came desperately.

You began swallowing his cum, sucking on his cock, feeling every spurt go down your satisfied throat, until you let go of it with an audible pop. Then, you looked up at him.

Higuruma was staring at you, and began brushing his hand on your cheek in a loving way. "So, now that we're even," he began, smiling in his blissful state, "we may go to the bedroom." The sorcerer offered his hand to help you, and you promptly took it. He pulled you up suddenly, and before you realized, you felt your feet swooping up in the air, with one of his arms under your knees. He was holding you in his arms, like a bride, and grinned as he tilted his head down to look at you. You put your arms around his neck for support, and couldn't help but flush so completely when he was gazing at you in such a lovely way. 

"You tend to get your face often flustered." He said, walking inside the bedroom. "I love it." Higuruma laid you on the bed and noticed you had a bedside lamp. He decided to turn it on, and you could see him under that half-lit daze.

Inside your room, the flowers smelled even stronger. Higuruma couldn't discern right now what was your flowery smell, and what the flowery smell lingering around your apartment. 

He put his knee on the mattress to climb on the bed, and removed his tie without breaking eye contact with you. Higuruma then started unbuttoning his shirt slowly, clearly teasing you, opening it up to reveal his beautiful body underneath. You stared at him shamelessly, and he noticed it, grabbing your hand, putting it over his abs silvery lit, making your body tremble in satisfaction.

With a chuckle, he finished removing his shirt and climbed on the bed, laying right beside you. Then, Higuruma put his hand right behind your waist and pulled you in for a kiss. You could still taste the wine on him, warm on his breath, and gasped the moment his hands began tracing the outline where your pants and your shirt met. Lost in your own haze, you rolled over him, removing your shirt with a tug. Sitting over his unclothed cock, you traced your fingers over his muscles, admiring the view. He had his hands up, splayed to each side of his head, and you grabbed his wrists, pushing them down the sheets. Higuruma's face blushed slightly, as he smiled at you. "Feeling bossy tonight, too?"

"Kind of." You replied, replicating his cadence. However, he effortlessly flipped his hips underneath you and had you rolling underneath him. Higuruma yanked his hands from your grasp and held your hands above your head, seizing the opportunity to grind his throbbing cock over your clothed sex, drawing a surprised moan out of your lips. Tonight, he'd break you gently, lovingly, in every way he could. "Too bad, my dear. Today, I'll be the one in charge." He let go of your hands and in swift moves, undid your bra, unzipping your pants and removing them calmly. 

Higuruma put two of his fingers over your lips, and said, "open up." You obliged, and he entered your mouth delicately with his digits, grazing them up with your saliva. You sucked on his fingers softly, while looking at him, satisfied at the sight of him grunting. Then, he traced his fingers down your body, ghosting right above your aching core. You tried bucking  your hips in the direction of his fingers, but the sorcerer noticed it, and pulled his hand a little further away.

"If you want it, ask for it." Higuruma chided, calmly, locking his eyes to yours.

"Please, touch me." You replied, desperate for some friction on your neglected bud. He seemed hell-bent on driving you mad this night.

"Oh, I didn't even have to say anything for you to ask nicely. Good girl." His praise came down on you like warm rain, sending waves of honeyed dewy satisfaction all over your skin. He pressed his fingers around your entrance, and gently pushed them in, having your walls clenching desperately pulsing around them. When Higuruma bottomed out his digits inside your pussy, he used his thumb to rub small circles on your clit, having you instantly trembling under his touch. He groaned, pleased, and said, "you look so pretty undoing like that."

His words sent shivers all over your body, as you felt every single hair pry up, electrically. You mewled and moaned, as his fingers stretched you out for his cock, throbbing and yearning for another release. As he felt satisfied enough with your walls fluttering around his fingers, he pulled them out, ghosting your entrance with the tip of his length. He got distracted for a moment, looking around. 

As if reading his mind, you put your hand on his shoulder. "I'd like to... feel you tonight."

He lifted an eyebrow, curious. "Are you sure?"

You nodded. Higuruma then took your hand on his, and gently kissed your knuckles, intertwining his fingers to yours as he pressed your hand beside your head on the sheets. Then, he teased the tip of his cock, sliding up and down your folds, stopping a few moments to press it against your bud, eliciting a whimper from you. He kept doing this to slowly drive you into a spiral, taking full advantage from the fact that he had already had an orgasm, and you hadn't. Watching you squirm, twist and turn under him was one of the best things he'd ever seen, Higuruma was sure of it.

"P-Please... Hiromi, I'm b-begging, please-" you pleaded, urgently, as he lifted both of your hands above your head and held them down firmly, putting his other hand over your hip to push you down the mattress.

"Ah... You look beautiful, asking for me." He pressed the tip of his cock in your entrance, and you gasped, as he thrust into you incredibly slow, sinking inch by inch, taking all the time in the world to weave your walls around his girth. Finally bottoming out, he pulled equally slow, and you were just about to weep in frustration, desperate to buck him into you relentless, but firmly held in place by his hand pressed against the plush of your hips.

"I need you... You're driving me mad-"

"Am I, now?" Higuruma asked, chuckling in between pleasure filled huffs, leaning over to hover his lips above yours. He didn't kiss you, though, and you couldn't press forward properly because the still held both of your hands above your head, limiting your upper body movements. You were just about to explode with all that buildup. "Then beg." He said, smiling, sliding his tongue quickly over your lips.

"Hiromi, please. P-please... Ah-" You huffed, "I beg, I plead, I implore. I'll do w-whatever you want, just please-" You looked at him, asking for him to have you, vulnerable and raw.

There, he had it. Your defenses dropped completely, and he finally started rolling his hips against yours intently, picking up a rhythm, sending your head spiraling and instantly making you feel dizzy in that stupor. You weren't even moaning anymore - you were actively yelling, arching your back on the bed, screaming his name. His body, his warmth, his smell, his taste, his name, it was all you had in your mind right now. You were completely Hiromi drunk, as he occupied all of your senses.

Not wanting to neglect your full pleasure, he drew his hand, previously on your hip, over your aching bud, and started drawing circles over it, eager to have you come completely undone under his touch and on his cock. You were so wound up by this point that your orgasm quickly came crashing down on you like an earthquake, cracking and breaking your convulsing body under him. Higuruma leaned down to kiss you, as he felt you impossibly tightening around his length, knowing full well that he wouldn't last long like this.

Right before he could press his lips to yours, though, he felt the desperate surge in his belly, and mustered up the strength to ask, in between grunts, "can I come inside you?" You said yes, and he let go, pressing a passionate kiss on your lips, as you felt him painting your walls inside with thick strands of cum.

You were panting into his mouth, after you both came down from your respective highs. After both finally opened their eyes, you looked inside his, and the way he looked at you, so intently, made your heart throb, sending butterflies down your stomach and raising every hair on your body with electric anticipation. Your face became completely flustered in an instant, and Higuruma noticed it. 

You realized the way you reacted to him definitely wasn't the way you'd feel if you just had a crush on the man. This was something else.

"What is on your mind?" He asked, letting go of your hands, and parting your sweat gripped hair on your forehead to lay a kiss. You quivered under him, and he felt it, letting out an almost unnoticeable grunt in satisfaction.

"You." You blurted out, before you could think of anything else.

He leaned back to look at you, eyes slightly wide, and an amused expression. "What now?"

You blinked repeatedly, insecure, not because you were completely naked under his body, but because you knew what you were about to say next.

"I believe I have feelings for you, too" You answered, surprised at how you said it, so naturally. “I’m actually sure of it. I do... Have feelings for you.”

His smile widened, and he pressed his lips to yours, heart fluttering content, lingering for a moment with the taste and sensation of you.

As he parted, he chuckled, putting one of his hands on your cheek and looking the most satisfied you had ever seen him. "Well, it's nice to know I wasn't barking up the wrong tree."

This charming asshole! You thought to yourself, in a mix of happy indignation and loving heart throb.

"Now, can I actually ask you out on a date and treat you to a proper dinner, please?" He finally asked.

Oh, this man would be the death of you. He surely had it all planned out. The not-date, going to your house, putting you against the wall, having you underneath his thumb, and every little move this bastard made. The worst part was that you loved every moment of it, just to have this former lawyer wiggle his way into your heart and whirl out a confession from you. Such a lovely bastard.

You smiled back at him, planting a quick kiss on his lips. "Yes. Anytime you want, bastard. Don’t think I didn’t notice what you did."

He laughed contently, brushing his lips against your cheeks, making his way down to kiss your jawline. You mewled quietly to the searing sensation of his lips on your sensitive skin, desperate for more of that. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Higuruma answered, mischievously. 

– 

End notes:

So, this is thoroughly inspired by the song "Tactics" (and I suggest you give it a listen, please!), and I loved every second of writing this one-shot. I really hope you guys enjoyed reading it just as much. <3

#jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma x reader #jjk higuruma #jjk hiromi #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk x you #higuruma smut #hiromi smut #jjk smut

[the-spirit-of-adventure]

Been playing with another FUTURE future AU and I'm having a lot of fun haha. Maj Skipjack and Cap'n K'nicknack! They also have a ship called Bub-E that they live and travel around in.

I'm thinking that Skipjack is earth's first space explorer, and Bub-E was created to accompany him so he wouldn't need a crew to run the whole ship. They meet Cap'n K'nicknack once they travel far from home, and he ends up derailing their mission by tickling Skipjack's adventure bone.

K'nicknack has a "Koinkydink Drive" which is a reference to the infinite improbability drive from Hitchhiker's Guide, but it's busted. He convinces Skipjack to help repair it to find the legendary candy planet. But Bub-E wishes Skip would focus on the mission first and foremost.

#tmmof #flapjack #captain k'nuckles #space au #cap'n k'nicknack #skipjack

[merakiui]

Mera... can I ask you for some Cater thoughts pretty please? 🤲

Any thoughts, I love all the ideas you come up with! >< Be it sk, fwb, a band au, just obsessed.... all good!

:D of course!!! I will happily share Cater thoughts.

✧ there's a yan fic idea I have for Cater that's told entirely in blog post format. Sort of like those smau fics, only instead of through texts/tweets you'd see something like,,,, the twst equivalent for tumblr or myspace and it's Cay-Cay's little private blog where he shares all of his innermost thoughts. The posts start innocent enough and then in classic yan fashion it derails terribly as Cater falls deeper into obsession with you.

✧ I like to think that when Cater's really stressed or self-loathing he just,,, uses Split Card to kill off his clones in whatever way matches the emotion(s) he's feeling in that moment. But then he probably also isolates himself when he's in bad moods. Definitely tries to distract himself with even more social media.....

✧ a pink bitch club au. Cater as Minako, Kalim as Gyaruko, and Lilia as Charlotte!!!! I feel like the role of VYT-24 fits Ortho because,,, android.

✧ omegaverse fwb......... whether he's an alpha, omega, or beta!!!! all is good!!! orz orz orz Cater helping you through your heats/ruts. Cater who gets too attached.

✧ serial killers Cater and Trey who work together. Aaaa but then serial killers Cater and Riddle.......... Riddle the lawful doctor who can easily find ways to cover things up or provide Cater with certain tools!!!

✧ serial killer Cater who livestreams all of his murders,,, live snuff. >_<

✧ the trope of popular guy is secretly deranged or a gross degenerate. You admire Cater's Magicam presence, but in real life he's actually horribly obsessed and gross. >:D

✧ there's some sort of Secret Alliance au to be had with Reader in the role of Eun Sian, Lilia as Chae Yul/Yuri, and Cater as Hyun Yujin.

✧ idol Cater....... all of his songs seem so strangely personal, as if they're about a specific person. Little do they know that same mystery person is locked up in his home. :)

✧ assisted non-con...... Cater and Trey teaching Ace and Deuce how to please you. Or maybe it's the two of them teaching Riddle because Queen knows he has no idea what he's doing. Leave it to the socially skilled upperclassmen to teach him what to do!!!

✧ I forget Cater is canonically talented at skateboarding...... there's a brain rot in there somewhere...

#twisted chit chat

[sea-you-in-paradise]

a o t   m e n   x   h e a d a c h e   r i d d e n   s / o

summary - how the aot men make their s/o feel better when they have a headache :(

word count - 643

setting - any (canonverse, modern au, etc)

features - armin, connie, eren, jean, levi, & reiner

genderneutral!reader

warnings - none

a r m i n

tries to keep you entertained. something he hates about headaches is how they always seem to derail your entire day, so when you’re not sleeping, he does his best to make you feel like you’ve accomplished a little something. this is mainly by reading to you in a very quiet voice in a very dark room. he just wants to distract you from the pain and make your day feel a little bit more useful :)) he will also make you drink a shit ton of water, which can be both annoying and effective, but he’s just trying to help and he’ll do whatever else you want as well!

c o n n i e

waits on you hand and foot. frankly, connie has no idea how to help, when he gets headaches, it’s usually because of an injury and he just whines about it until it goes away, but he will do literally anything you ask to make you feel better. he probably asks you a lot how you are feeling or if something is working (he probably asks at inconvenient times, like it might have worked if you had been quiet ;-;) he asks for jean’s advice for sure. he tries to whisper, but his whisper is so loud. you can really tell he’s doing his best though, and 3/5 times he does something super helpful thanks to your instruction!

e r e n

leaves you alone. unlike connie, eren does know how to help (at least he thinks he does) and that is by not interacting with you. you tell this man you have a headache and he’s like:

it’s not that he’s trying to avoid you, he just figures that there is no better treatment than silence and solitude. he will definitely stay if you want him to, assuming you just want to lay next to him. other than that, he doesn’t really know what to do. if you ask him for a massage, he’d probably be like “am i getting one too??”

j e a n

provides the essential relief package. need to get rid of tension? he’s there to give you a massage or draw you a hot bath (and you better believe he’ll make it a fancy one, he’s got bath salts for you bb). feeling warm already? he’s there with a cool cloth to dab your forehead. whether you want a cuddle buddy or something to eat that’s easy to chew, you better believe jean is on the case. can’t articulate what you need? he boils it down to basics and still manages to help. this man is so whipped, he would punch mikasa if it meant making you feel better. 

l e v i

makes tea. he literally doesn’t know what else to do! though he wouldn’t admit it, levi feels uncharacteristically terrible when you have a headache, like he’s completely useless in the situation. what good is he if he can’t even make his partner feel better when their own body is betraying them? so, he would make you tea, specifically chamomile to help with inflammation and make you sleepy (regardless of your fondness of chamomile), and he would sit in the same room with you silently in case you need anything else. 

r e i n e r

he gets headaches a lot too because he doesn’t sleep well, so he’s definitely good in this situation all around, but his strongest asset is his scalp massages. where he learned his technique, the world may never know, but this man carries the cure in his bare hands. he’ll let you rest in his arms in bed while his fingers gently draw circles over your head, somehow making the pain more manageable. it’s always a very tender moment and you feel better in half the time you usually do.

#armin arlert headcanons #armin arlert x reader #Eren Jaeger headcanons #eren jaeger x reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer headcanons #Armin Arlet #armin arlert #connie springer #eren jaeger #eren yeager #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirstein headcanons #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun headcanons #aot headcanons #aot x reader #aot fluff

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 12 - The Workout)

7.2K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Din “work out” at Mando’s gym and you end up getting sick.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), reader ogles Din like a piece🥩, smut, unprotected PiV sex, semi-public sex (car), new-ish established relationship, dirty talk, light degradation, light daddy kink, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, sweetheart, bunny, etc.), description of flu symptoms (it's gross y'all), reader is described as shorter than Din and he strokes her hair while she's sick.

A/N: Oo! This is a long one; it's just because The Workout and The Cold used to be two chapters and I ended up shmushing them together. There was an ask about Din taking care of reader while she's vulnerable; I hope this chapter fulfills that ask! 🥰 Thank you as always for reading!

Series Masterlist

“You know, you can come work out at Mando’s, if you want.”

“Really?  That won’t be weird?  Like, I’m moving in on your space?”

“I like you in my space.”

Din says it like a simple statement of fact, not even looking up from the cutting board where he’s slicing the steak he grilled for dinner.  You’re not big on working out, but once in a while you just like to go for a run or a row and zone out to some TV; it’s not a regular thing so you don’t have a membership anywhere, and your building has a gym on the third floor that you can use whenever the urge strikes you (not often).  But this morning when you went downstairs, ready to put in the hour you needed to catch-up on your favourite trashy reality show, you had found a temporary closure notice on the gym entrance.

It's not a bad idea.  The weather is getting a bit chillier so your walks with Al haven’t been as long as both of you would like; it might be nice to have another option to get a little bit of exercise, “It’s okay if I just use the cardio machines?  I won’t use any of the weight lifting equipment or anything.”

“You can use whatever you like.  I’ll even have Jimmy fetch you water and towels.”

“Noooooo,” you make a face and shake your head.

“Yessssss,” he mimics you, “You’re the boss’ girl, you should be treated special.”

“You treat me special enough, for you and Jimmy both, thanks,” you say, still scrunching up your nose, but you tell Din you’ll take him up on his kind offer.

---

The next weekend, you leave Al snoozing on the Din’s bed and head down to the gym with the intention of saying hi to Din while he works, but also to run off some of the stress from the work week.  Like the gym in your building, there are enough empty machines so you have your pick, but unlike your gym, the patrons all seem to know one another and are treating their workouts like a social event.  Din’s helping out with the training today; you give him a little wave when you walk by the ring so not to distract him, and pick a treadmill off to the side so you can still see him and also simultaneously do some innocent people watching while you run.  Headphones on, your phone jacked in to the console so you can stream your show, you pick the program you want the machine to run and start your work out.

Your plan is almost immediately derailed.  As the familiar title sequence of your show starts to play, your eyes drift up past the screen and lock onto Din’s figure in the ring.  He’s sparring with Chris today; having already gone a few rounds while you were upstairs, both men are sweaty and breathing heavily, chests and shoulders heaving as they circle each other.  Din has sweated through his t-shirt so that it’s now sticking against his body, making him look even more immense than usual, and you openly gawk at the strong lines of his back and arms visible through the darkened fabric.  As if he’s somehow reading your mind, Din puts a pause on the bout in order to remove his wet shirt; it’s not an easy task given his gloves, but he manages it with some grace and the use of his teeth to pull and hold the collar.  When he finally whips the shirt over his damp curls, you’re treated to the sight of his thick, hard chest, glistening and flexing as he stretches out his arms; you feel a heat pooling below your abdomen and a flush spread across your chest that has nothing to do with your lackluster exercise efforts.

Far from doing any people watching like you had planned, you’re now struggling to make sure that you yourself don’t become a spectacle by openly drooling while you watch a shirtless Din fight in the ring.  Every one of his punches is quick and agile, arms extending perfectly to show off his control and precision; his muscles prominent and flexed, the veins on his forearms protruding as his gloved fists clench, ready for impact.  He’s a mammoth force, a powerhouse, somehow both immovable and unstoppable, and he looks good enough to eat.

You haven’t watched single a minute of your show and it’s actually getting to the point where the voices coming through your headphones are an unwelcomed distraction from the actual show you’re engrossed in, so you take off your headphones and place them next to your water bottle.  Big mistake.  Now, you can very clearly hear Din’s groans and pants as he ducks and punches.  It’s like the thirst trap video you’ve been watching all of a sudden turned up its pornographic soundtrack.  Din’s low, throaty grunts as he exerts himself, coupled with the words of praise you hear him shout out in his deep, encouraging baritone, have your mind running wild.

When Chris lands a hard punch to Din’s shoulder and you hear him grunt out, “Fuck!”, you nearly trip over your own feet. 

You’re pounding back your water, throat parched and sweating profusely, and you’re barely 20 minutes into the preselected program; you’re not even going to lie to yourself, the flush of your skin and your shortness of breath have absolutely nothing to do with this treadmill.  You’re about to admit defeat and cut the run short, thinking you could definitely benefit from a cold shower, when you see Chris and Din touch gloves, seemingly done training for the moment.  Din ducks under the ropes and starts taking off his gloves; as he walks past you, he throws a towel around his neck and you a quick wink.  Where is he going? You watch as he heads to the front of the gym, disappearing around the partition wall that rests between the front door and the main gym.

Without even thinking, you stop your machine, grab your things, and try to quickly and discretely follow.  You find Din outside, having put on a dry shirt, standing behind his truck with the trunk door opened above him as he rifles through the box full of equipment he keeps in the trunk.  Wordlessly, you put your things down on the trunk bed next to the box, surprising Din at your sudden appearance, “Hey pretty bird, what are you doing here?  It’s cold, you sh-“.  Taking his hand, you lead him to step back before pressing the auto-close button on the trunk door; as it folds down; you open the door to the back seat of the truck, and gently push Din to get in, with you following directly. 

Din chuckles as you situate yourself on his lap, straddling his thighs, looking at him with a hunger in your eyes, “Baby, what’s all th-?”.  He’s cut short when you silence him by throwing your arms around his neck and attach your lips to his, hard and hurried.  You’re embarrassingly pent up from the last 20 minutes of watching the hottest man you’ve ever known show off his power and skill on what was basically a stage you had a front row seat to, and now you need to feel the strength of those muscles on you, under you, fucking up into you.

“Want you,” you mumble against his lips, “…so turned on. Watching you.”  You’re barely able to string together your thoughts, you’re so consumed with exploring the cavern of Din’s mouth with your tongue, but Din gets the idea.  Feeling incredibly needy, you start lightly grinding down on Din’s lap, and he encourages you by placing his hands on your waist and helping guide your movements; even this light friction feels overwhelmingly good against your aching clit, and you throw you head back and cry out, unabashed and loud enough for anyone walking by Din’s car to hear. 

“Fuck, daddy, need you.  Please, please…” your mouth back to messy kissing Din’s as your hands thread through his damp hair, tugging at the curls at the base of his neck and earning you a deep growl from the back of his throat.

“Look at my desperate, pretty girl,” groans Din, eyes greedy as you take off your t-shirt, then your sports bra, letting your tits bounce in his face, “…can’t even go a whole work out without riding her daddy’s dick.”

Unable to wait another minute, you peel your wet shorts and panties off in one go, now completely naked, sweaty and panting on top of a still fully clothed Din. “Not my fault, daddy,” you pout as you press yourself down on Din’s clothed cock, making a wet mess of his gym shorts.  “You looked so fucking good in that ring, then you were making all those grunting noises. Couldn’t think of anything else but you filling me with your cock.  Ahh-,“ you gasp out loud as Din takes one of your nipples in his mouth, nibbling and rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth before sucking down and flicking it with his tongue.  You whine and increase the intensity and tempo of your movements while he moves to do the same to your other nipple, hand palming and tweaking the now abandoned breast.  Din’s free hand snakes its way down to your core only to find you slick with want, a sticky mess already coating your inner thighs and soaking through his shorts, “Messy, messy slut.  You get this wet just from watching me spar?  Good thing you followed me out here, can’t have you leaking all over the gym floor like this.”  He brings up his fingers so you can both see how your wetness coats his fingers, even though he has yet to insert them into you.  When he pulls them apart, you watch the fluid web that connects his fingers stretch, proof that your pussy is positively leaking; you whimper at the filthy sight and bring Din’s hand to your mouth, popping his fingers into your mouth so you can suck off your own arousal.  Moaning at the taste of your own indecency, you grind down hard against Din’s groin, his hard-on straining painfully against his shorts. 

“Fuck me,” you mumble, Din’s fingers still in your mouth.

“Let me make you come first, pretty bird,” Din pleads, always putting your pleasure first and wanting to lesson the sting of the first stretch of his cock within your tight walls.

“Can’t wait, daddy… please, I can take it, please.”

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” grits Din, as he pushes his shorts and boxers down; his leaking cock springing out and slapping against your stomach, coarse hair at the base tickling your clit and making you gasp in pleasure, “YES!  Please, daddy, need to bounce for you.”

You’ve never taken him without having come first, and if you weren’t so far gone, answering only to your lust, you would probably be worried; but as you line yourself up with Din, the shudder you get just from swiping his swollen head through you folds and tapping it on your clit makes it impossible to care about anything other than having him inside you right now.

Slowly, slowly you sink down on Din’s length, taking him a little at a time.  Din grips your waist tightly, eyes closed, forcing himself to breathe; you’re so incredibly tight this, warm cunt practically strangling him, he fights the urge to move and bury himself in you fully.  The stretch of Din’s fat cock is almost too much, your soft walls molding so tightly to him you can feel every ridge and vein as you slowly spear yourself downwards.  The pain doesn’t register so much as the overwhelming feeling of fullness, your body needing more time and space to accommodate Din’s thickness.  When he finally bottoms out, you just sit and sigh, sated from just warming his throbbing cock in your tight heat. 

Your lust driven frenzy quelled, you now rest serene in Din’s arms, drinking in his gentle kisses, soothing touches, and words of praise of how good you’re doing for him; Din worshipping you as you take his cock so perfectly, and you getting used to his size and relearning how to breathe.  Finally, finally, you look up at Din’s face to see his eyes filled with adoration, and your breathing evens, allowing you to kiss him with renewed passion.  Grinning against your lips, Din murmurs, “Thought you wanted to bounce, bunny?”

Pulling away slightly and grinning back, you nod and lift yourself up a little, then slowly push yourself down back down fully onto Din’s length again, eliciting a heady groan from you both.  You repeat the action, again and again, each time increasing the amount of Din’s length you work in and out of your pussy, until you’re panting and bouncing up and down on the full length of Din’s dick, “Feel so good, daddy.  So full.”

“So fucking pretty, bouncing on me like a whore, bunny,” groans Din, as he mouths at your tits.  You love his new pet name for you, the endearment spurring you to bounce harder and chase the high that’s been building since you saw him land a thundering cross punch to Chris’ jaw in the ring. 

“Love being your slutty bunny, daddy,” you cry, head thrown back in ecstasy, “wanna ride this cock until it’s all creamy.  Until it fills me up, ngh..ahhh-“

Din thinks he’s going to explode from your filthy words, then he knows he’s going to explode when he looks down at where the two of you are connected and sees a ring of white around the base of his cock, “Holy shit, baby.  Look at you already creaming around me.  My perfect bunny.  Doing so good riding this dick, taking me so well.  So fucking perfect.”

He presses one of his hands against your stomach, balls tightening when he swears he can feel some movement against his palm from the inside, and uses his thumb to draw his name on your swollen clit. 

It’s too much, too much.  The stretch and burning sting of having taken Din’s cock without much prep, his filthy words of praise, the lewdness of fucking in his car in broad daylight parked out in the open in front of his place of business, the tenderness of your new pet name, the delicious pressure on your clit – you come.  You come with a soundless scream, the stuttering of Din’s name punctuated by sharp gasps of air, you body shudders and shivers as you clench down hard on Din’s cock.  Hand threading, then fisting the hair at the base of your neck, Din fucks up into you as he praises you through your high.

“So fucking gorgeous when you come for me, pretty bird.”

“My little bunny did such a good job on daddy’s dick.”

“You feel so good, baby.  Made for me.”

You’re still so full, but now also so pliant and eager to please; with what remaining energy you have, you bounce down hard, meeting every one of Din’s upward thrusts so he bottoms out in you each time, the force of each drive has your ass jiggling as it slaps down on his thighs.  Din grunts and pants as he chases his own finish; you hug yourself around his neck, and babble, “Thank you for making your bunny come, daddy.  Felt so good to gush all over your dick.  Want to do the same for you, Din.  Please, please, fill me up.  Need your cum, please.”  Never one to deny you anything, Din comes with a roar, filling your pussy with rope after rope of his milky cum so you grow even fuller and continue to hum, “Thank you, thank you, daddy.”

Your post “workout” cooldown comprises of gentle strokes to the back, soft cradling of heads, and quiet words of devotion; tired and satisfied in Din’s embrace, you start to shiver, and this time not from pleasure.  Coming out into the cold air while sweating from a run, then getting naked in a colder car was probably not the smartest idea, but you hadn’t been really thinking about the well-being of your health at the time.  Din rubs his big hands over your arms to warm you up, “Pretty bird, let’s get you dressed.”  You find your gym clothes but the idea of putting on damp clothes is wholly unappealing, so Din reaches his long arms into the trunk and roots around for some spare clothes.  Stepping out of the truck in an oversized yellow Lakers t-shirt and Din’s sweatpants that you’ve rolled up multiple times, you realize it couldn’t be any more obvious what the two of you have been up to.

Getting your things from the trunk, you decide to go through the side entrance straight up to Din’s apartment to avoid any walk of shame embarrassment in the gym.  Giving him a parting kiss at the front door, you whisper, “Hope it’s okay we did that, Din.  Don’t want anyone to file a complaint against Mando’s.”  You look so cute, worried about the reputation of his business, Din can’t help but yank you against him via the waistband of his pants and give you a deep reassuring kiss, “Perk of being a Mando, pretty bird – no one can say shit to you,” before sending you upstairs with a spank.

---

You start to feel a tickle in your throat when you go to sleep on Sunday, and by the time you wake up for work on Monday, it’s a full-blown sore throat.  You trudge through a morning of meetings, trying to avoid the pounding of your head and attempt to soothe your throat with lozenges when your team gathers at the door to your office and point a makeshift cross made out of pens and rubber bands at you, telling you to go home.

You gather your computer and some files and tell them you’ll work from home until you’re better, but they insist you rest; you compromise and say you’ll be available by email before heading home.

Din is doing double duty again his week; although you haven’t voiced your concerns, you've noticed that Din’s been a little restless as of late, him and Paz meeting more frequently over an increasing number of border skirmishes and disputes that need to be handled.  You’re not sure if it’s anything serious, but you do know that the need to step up security has been weighing on Din – he himself stepping in and putting in more face time than he has since his retirement.  You call Din to let him know that you seem to have caught a cold, and you think it’s better if he doesn’t come over, in case he catches it too.  With him working long hours, you don’t want anything to risk him getting even less rest than he already is.  As expected, he protests, but you insist even though you will miss him.

The next morning you wake up feeling like hot garbage.  You slog through about two hours of work before making the executive decision to put your out-of-office on and reschedule you remaining meetings.  Your team tells you they don’t want to hear from you until next week but know you’re likely too stubborn to agree to that.  You take a bunch of drugs and wonder how you got sick.  You’re usually pretty healthy and while the weather is getting chillier, you’re not out much without being bundled up? 

Oh. 

Your drowsy brain flashes a vignette of sweaty bodies in the backseat of a car, windows fogging as the heat from illicit activities condense against windows cooled by the lower outside temperatures.   Of Din’s face buried into your neck, holding you close as you both calm down, your naked body cooling and shivering after your explosive highs.  So, this man really will be the death of me, you think, as you pass out.

You wake up groggy and with your throat on fire later in the afternoon.  Popping some more drugs, you reply to some work emails and the messages from your friends and Din checking in.  You know he’s doing another late night with the Mandos, so you downplay your symptoms a bit so he will acquiesce to your suggestion that he go straight home to rest again.  It’s easier to do over text; a phone call would have given away your loss of voice and sent him racing over.  With your friends, you can be more candid, I’m dying you tell them – they all immediately volunteer to come over but you tell them to stay away for their own sakes.  Going to bed early after taking Al out, you debate dinner but ultimately go without because you can’t handle swallowing any food.

Wednesday is… a blur.  You don’t even turn on your computer today or look at your phone.  You drag yourself out of bed, take Al out, feed Al, then curl up on the couch shivering.  Shit.  This is the flu.  Your muscles ache, your head is splitting open, and you can add a stuffed-up nose to your growing list of symptoms.  Using the energy you have left to grab more blankets, take some drugs and pull down the blinds, you’re guessing the fever is next. That or death.

It's dark when you finally wake up to your phone buzzing on the coffee table; you groggily look at the time, shoot, it’s 7 pm already? You don’t feel well rested at all.  You need to take Al out.  Ignoring the call and what you think are a bunch of missed notifications on your phone, you thrown on a jacket over your sweats and apologize profusely to Al while waiting for the elevator.  Once outside, you have to admit that the crisp cool air feels amazing against your hot skin, and you’re debating if you should risk taking Al for a short walk when your phone rings again.  You pick up when you see it’s Din, “Hubo?” you croak out, barely audible.

“Pretty bird… you sound terrible,” Din’s been worried about you all day.  He hasn’t liked the idea of you being alone and sick, but you were pretty insistent that it wasn’t anything to worry about while encouraging him to stay at his place.  He’s been feeling a bit off kilter being apart from you; even though he’s exhausted from pulling double duty with the Mandos, he misses at least seeing you and Al for your nightly walk.  Now he’s even more thrown when he realizes you’ve been downplaying the severity of your illness for whatever reason.

“Thanks,” you joke, but it doesn’t come out sounding jovial; in fact, it’s barely the sound of a scratch.

“Baby, I’m going to come over and-” Din starts to say when you interrupt, “No, no, you’ll get s-” before you’re stopped mid-sentence by a coughing fit.

Din’s already gathered his things and is getting in his truck by the time you’ve finished coughing, “I’m fin-” you’re saying when you’re cut out by the sound of a siren going by.

Din says your name.  He hardly ever says your name; it’s always pretty bird, or baby, or sweetheart, or some other endearment.  And he never says it in this low, warning tone, like he’s afraid of what he might say if he doesn’t say your name instead.  He repeats it, then, “Who is walking Al while you’re sick?”

Why do you feel like you’re in trouble whether you answer or not?  Your body clearly doesn’t want to get in trouble either because it figures the best thing to do is launch another coughing fit.

Din softens a little, “Pretty bird, get inside and get in bed, I’ll be over soon,” and he hangs up before you can attempt to argue.

When you and Al come in a few minutes later, you feed him and give him some fresh water, all while giving him as many fussings as you can muster as a continued apology for having ignored him all day.  You trudge over to the kitchen thinking you should eat something, clearly the lack of food has not been aiding your recovery, but as you peer in your fridge, the idea of having to prepare anything overwhelms you.  You pour yourself some orange juice and use it to wash down some more flu medication and then look through you phone at the messages you’ve missed while sleeping.  You’re mid-scroll when there’s a knock on your door; after opening the door, you quickly step back to let Din in and cover your mouth with your hand so you don’t breathe your germs all over him.

“None of that now, pretty bird,” Din says firmly, reaching for you and pulling you in close with one arm before planting a kiss on the top of your hot head. 

“You’ll get sick,” you murmur into his chest. 

“Then I’ll get sick,” he puts the bags he brought on the foyer table before gently shuffling you towards your bedroom.

When he sees that your made bed (when did you do that!?) does not look slept in, he tsks, “They say that doctors make the worst patients,” he lays you down after pulling the covers back, tucking you in after, “but I think it’s actually stubborn little girls that work in finance.”

His words are lighthearted but you know he’s worried about you, so you play along and whisper as loud as your painful throat will let you, “Sorry, daddy.”

Din kisses you on your forehead, “You’re burning up.  I wish you had let me come over sooner, baby.  Take care of you and Al.”

“Didn’t want to bother you, Din,” you murmur, snuggling down into your bed; just being in his very presence has relaxed you. That and the drugs kicking in, has you feeling pliant and snoozy.

“You never bother me, sweetheart.  Except maybe when you don’t tell me how sick you really are and you go out in the cold while you have a fever,” he says pointedly. 

You yawn and close your eyes, confessing, “You seem so stressed out with all the stuff that’s going on with the Mandos lately, Din.  Didn’t want to add to your load, make you feel like you have to come and see me and Al when you’ve already had a difficult day.”

“You ever think that maybe seeing you and Al is exactly what I need after a long hard day of seeing some bad shit go down?” says Din, quietly.

Your eyes open wide; you can’t believe you haven’t thought of it like that.  You know that anytime you’re having a bad day, it’s been made better the instant you see Din’s face, and even while you’ve been sick this week, you’ve longed for his soothing embrace.  Why didn’t you think it would be the same for him?  You sit up so fast you get dizzy, but throw your arms around Din’s shoulders and bury your face in his neck, “Oh baby, I’m so sorry.  You’re right, I shouldn’t have kept it from you.”

“It’s okay, pretty bird.  You were just trying to take care of me.  You need to let me take of you too, okay?  I like taking care of you.”

You nod into him and let Din gently lay you down again.  As you snuggle back into your covers, you pat the other side of the bed, “Come and sit with me and tell me about your day and all the shit that’s been going on until I fall asleep.”

Din climbs onto the bed and starts to pet your hair, “Sounds good.  But whenever you wake up next, I’m going to feed you some soup, okay?”  You nod, and feel the bed jostle some more as Al hops up on the bed to join in on the family time.  He lays down between you and Din, resting his head on Din’s lap so Din can pat his head as well.

When you’re all settled in, Din looking like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, starts to share.  First you learn some background: in addition to the Fett family, there other powerful syndicates in play - The Pykes, the Hutts, the Guavians, to name a few.  You make a face when you remember Gorga Hutt and his slimey cronies from Jimmy’s fight night and Din chuckles as if reading your mind.  Apparently, years ago, before Boba rose to power, the rival gangs ran unchecked, and violence in the streets was a common occurrence.  Gangs constantly fighting for territory or profits made for a lot of instability and it was an unsafe time for Din’s neighbourhood as well as many others in the city.  Once Boba had built up sufficient territory and muscle to be taken seriously, he had called the families together and brokered a peace treaty; physical borders and commercial limits were drawn that minimized conflict and overlap of business interests, ensuring prosperity and minimizing bloodshed for all.  Din recalls for you how many of his earlier years as Boba’s enforcer were spent strengthening and defending these borders and boundaries.  Happily, for the most part things have been stable for many years; nothing is ever truly peaceful but everyone has been co-existing without issue. 

However, in the past month or so, something had shifted; little problems and violations have been occurring with increasing frequency. 

“What kind of problems?” you ask, you’re fighting sleep to make sure you don’t miss any of what Din is telling you.  Din sighs, “Things that if they were to happen as a one-off, wouldn’t necessarily be concerning. Like vandalism of a business under one family’s protection, or minor altercations among lower ranking members from rival families in public places, or even the theft of known family members’ property.”  Din rubs his face in frustration. There’s nothing to prove it but Din doesn’t feel that these incidents are isolated; there must be something bigger at play.  For now, the Mandos are being dispatched to put out these figurative (and in one case, literal) fires, and to beef up security where future infractions are likely to take place, but Din thinks they need to investigate these events as a whole to see if there is something more sinister behind it all.  It’s really been stressing him out.

Holding Din’s hand and stroking it so that you’re the one now comforting him, “I think you should trust your experience with this type of unrest. Plus, you don’t have any reason not to listen to your gut.  What does Paz think?”

“He agrees with me, but he’s the leader now and his orders are to quell and prevent further disturbances.  Any investigation has got to be secondary.”

“I see.  What do you think is going on?” you nuzzle Din’s hand with your cheek, letting him know he can think out loud with you.

Din rubs his chin, “I don’t think it’s a new player, they seem almost too careful.  None of the incidents ever hit any big enough targets or players that would lead to full scale retaliation.  So it has to be an existing family in order to be in the know.  The problem is, I can’t see any of the families risking all out war… for what?  A couple of corners?  The cost of a few repairs?”

Your analytical brain is turning, “Are the other families run like the Fetts?  I mean, when you say it can’t be one of the families, what you really mean is you don’t think it’s a family sanctioned plan or attack, like it isn’t approved by leadership? But, are any of the families big enough or loosely run enough that people could go rogue?  Or get away with stuff without their leaders knowing?”

“Hmmmmm… good point, pretty bird.  None of the other families are like the Fetts, actually.  Boba’s power never came from numbers, but from solidarity… stronger together, is the family motto.  Everyone knows what everyone is doing and we stick together, no secrets.  As I understand it, that’s not how the other families are run – they’re bigger for one thing.  And there’s a lot of segregation so no one knows everything. Everything is need to know and people sort of stick to their own lanes – it’s so no one amasses enough power within the organization to overthrow anyone.”  Din shrugs, “I mean, seems like a weird way to run things to me. What you're suggesting would still be risky, and I don’t know why someone would take that risk, but it's definitely possible we should be looking for people who are doing things without proper family sanction.”  Din grins down at you, “Smart girl.”

You smile back, “Really?”

“Really.  I can think of a few people I want to look into right off the bat.  You’ve given me lots to think about, pretty bird.  Now go to sleep.”

Yawning a big yawn, you close your eyes and smile, murmuring, “I helped.”

---

When you wake up, it’s nearly midnight; you’re groggy and still feverish, but your stomach is growling and there’s a delicious smell coming in from the kitchen.

You pad out to living room to find Din working on his laptop, a pair of reading glasses perched on his adorable nose.  When he sees you, he sets everything down on the coffee table, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Having decided that honesty is the best policy, you croak out, throat still scratchy, “Hungry.”

“Good!” Din guides you to the kitchen and gently helps you up onto a high top at the kitchen island. 

As Din takes out a bowl, you ask, “What’s that?”  Curious about the pot that’s simmering on the stove; you think it’s the source of the delicious aroma you woke to earlier. 

“Peli’s famous chicken noodle soup,” Din ladles some into a bowl. 

“You made this?”

“Yeah right.  No, Peli won’t share the recipe.  Says if we’re lucky she’ll will it to one of us when she dies.  Nah, she made this batch for you when she found out you were sick.”

“That’s so nice.  She didn’t need to do that.  I’ll have to bake her some cookies to thank her when I’m better.”

“She’ll like that, but she wanted to.  Pretty girl, don’t you get it?  You’re one of us now and we take care of each other.  You have more people than you know that have your back.”  He puts the steaming bowl of soup in front of you and tells you to wait.  Grabbing a blanket from the couch, he wraps it around you, tucking in your arms.  You manage a small laugh, “How am I supposed to eat my soup?”

“I’ll feed you,” he holds a hand up when he sees your expression, “you said you’d let me take care of you.”

You nod. It’s not in your nature to let people wait on you hand and foot, but you still feel bad for not telling Din how sick you were earlier so, you sit, bundled up on your chair, and let Din spoon the soup that he blows on to cool into you waiting mouth.  It’s incredible.  Even your stuffed up head can taste the explosion of flavours, the ginger clearing up your sinuses a bit, and the carrots, chicken and noodles all tender enough to be swallowed painlessly.  Din patiently feeds you the entire bowl, and you patiently let him; the look of relief and devotion that Din is giving you is enough to make you glad that you let him.  After you’ve brushed your teeth, Din sends you straight to bed, hardly needing any convincing to stay with you until you fall asleep.

The next day, Din calls out from work, both jobs.  He knows if he goes in, he’ll just be distracted by how you’re doing – plus, he’s making some headway in the investigative notes that he's making for Paz. He does all the walks with Al, and feeds you more soup.  He runs you a hot bath filled with eucalyptus bath salts and stays with you while you soak your achy muscles.  When he dries you, you try to give him a seductive look, but end up doubling over coughing and he tells you that while he still finds you very sexy even sick (Is that sarcasm?), you need to conserve your energy.  You make a face at him when he tucks you into bed.  You sleep.  By the late afternoon, you feel like you can sustain consciousness for more than an hour and you opt to lay on the couch and hangout with Din.  He puts on the comfort movie of your choice and massages your feet while you eat a yogurt.  You fall back asleep before the end of the movie, barely registering when Din turns it off and takes you back to bed.

It's past midnight when you wake up again and the first irrational thing you think is that you’ve somehow gone back in time and gotten sick again, but this time worse.  You feel disgusting.  Your nose is no longer stuffy, but that’s because the snot is now just free flowing out of your face.  You’re so snotty, in no time at all you’re surrounded by a ring of used tissues from having to blow your nose so much, and there’s no end in sight.  Your sore throat and dry cough, which had been clearing up, have been replaced with rattling phlegm which you can’t seem to clear no matter how hard you hack, but you try until your eyes water.  Ewwwwwwwwwwww. 

Din, appears in your doorway when he hears you, “Baby, you okay?”

You look up at him, squinting through your tears at his sleep tousled hair and the wrinkles on the pajamas he must have changed into.  You woke him.  And this is the thing that just breaks you and you start to cry for real.  He rushes over, scared, “Pretty bird, does something hurt?  Let me make it better.”  His obvious concern and caring tone of voice just make you cry harder, and now you’re snotting even more.  Great.  You hate that he’s seeing you like this.  You’re not the smart, pretty, funny girl he dates, you’re this weak thing, sick and tired and gross.  Totally unsexy.  Completely unhelpful.  Needy.  Putting so much on him.  He can’t even get a decent night’s sleep around you. 

You don’t realize you’ve said this all out loud until Din tuffs out a little laugh.  He climbs onto the bed and sits right across from you taking your hands in his, kissing them. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s okay.  I’m here.”

“No, it’s not,” you choke out between sobs, “You shouldn’t have to be here.”

Din sighs, but it’s not a sigh of exasperation, but of understanding; he tips your head up to meet his eyes, “I’m not here because I have to be, I’m here because I want to be.”

“Why?  I’m so gross.”

Smiling, Din patiently explains, “Why?  Because I love you, pretty bird, that’s why.”

Your eyes widen; your drowsy brain isn’t sure you heard him right, “You love me?”

He nods at you kindly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  But to you, in your current state, you can’t comprehend it, “Like this?”

Din lets out a deep laugh, one that fills the room, and he strokes your hair and looks lovingly at you, “Yes.  I love you like this.  Like the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, one who never ceases to think of the welfare and comfort of others even when she’s in an obvious state of discomfort herself.  Like someone I truly love taking care of because it’s such an honour to take care of her.  She’s strong and capable, and she doesn’t really need me and never asks anything of me, but trusts me enough to let me be around her when she’s not feeling strong and capable even though she is definitely still all those things.  It’s an honour to be good enough to take care of you, pretty bird, because the only person that can do the job properly is you, and it’s an honour to come second to you for anything.”

“Yes, I love you like this.  And I love you when you’re playing with Al, when you’re sneaking the treats you bake to Jimmy when you think Greef isn’t looking, and when you’re happy just to keep me company while I work.  I love you when just the sight of you brings a peace into my life that I didn’t know was possible, and when you laugh, or call me ‘old man’ or when you listen to me talk about the Mandos and never judge.  I love you when I see your name pop up on my phone and when you hold my hand when we walk Al together.”

“I love you all the time, pretty bird.”

Now you’re crying for a different reason, though no longer hysterical; just silent tears running down your face as you come to the obvious but inescapable conclusion about your connection to this magnificent force of a man in front of you, “I love you, too, Din.”

And you do.  You do love him.  You love all that he is, all that he’s capable of, and all of who he chooses to be on a daily basis.  You love his kindness, his protectiveness, his compassion, his gentleness.  You love that he lives by a code that values loyalty, respectfulness, and helping others, and he practices this creed in every little thing he does.  You love his playfulness, and his sharp wit, and how being able to make him laugh feels like an incredible accomplishment and when you do it, you just immediately want to do it over and over again.  You love that he always makes you feel wanted and cherished, but never treats you like you’re breakable.  You love how he’s constantly pushing up his reading glasses, and thinks they make him look old but will blush when you tell him how attractive you find them.  You love him when he’s bringing you and your work team dinner and remembers that someone’s gluten free.  You love him when he places his hand on your thigh when he’s driving, and you love him when he pushes up your sleeves when they start to slip when you’re washing dishes even without you asking him to.  Yes, you love him all the time too.

You can’t tell him all that right now, though; you’re too sick and sleepy, but you think you’ll be able to tell tomorrow.  And the day after.  And the day after that.  For now, you love him by letting him love you, snot and all.  Clearing away all the tissues on your bed, you lay back down and scoot backwards towards of the middle of the bed, making a space for Din and hold your arms out, I need you.  Din’s smile spreads wide across his face, relieved and content, he climbs in and wraps you up in his arms.  Stroking your hair, your back, as your breathing evens.

Drifting off, you roll over so your back is pressed to Din’s chest, taking comfort in feeling him there, a physical and proverbial wall for you to lean on, “Good night, Din.  I love you.”

“I love you more, pretty bird.  Good night.”

#din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #modern!din djarin #modern au #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #no y/n

[fairyofjaeyun]

s j y ➳ stupid puppy ꨄ

[3:17] now playing: maneater - nelly furtado

[warning] punishment, edging, choking, puppy kink, ma’am kink, degrading, hair pulling, mention of a safeword, very light and very brief cbt/ballbusting, footjob, mommy kink, facesitting, unprotected sex (this is fiction please use protection irl), cumplay/cumeating, jake and jay having terrible communication skills, lowkey fuckboy!jake, college au (ft. jay and heeseung)

1st person // 3.9k words // pt.2 // pt.3

[a/n] here it is, what you’ve all been waiting for! enjoy because I certainly did writing this ;)

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jake sim. he was quite the topic around campus. usually for his good looks or his enchanting accent. although, due to our polar opposite schedules and the colossal size of the campus, we never crossed paths.

at least not physically. his name floats out of jay’s mouth quite often around me, and I’m sure jake could say the same about mine. I’m not sure what jay was plotting—he never brought up heeseung’s or jungwon’s name as randomly, even though I’ve met them—but he wasn’t doing a fantastic job at being mysterious about it.

“you know, jake is such a messy roommate,” said jay after taking a quick sip of his coffee. randomly. frequently jay crashes at jake’s apartment in order to help him separate his college life and his personal life. and to also get away from heeseung, his dorm mate. “that reminds me, he invited me to his apartment this weekend and I was wondering if you’d like to come?”

see what I mean?

I watch him take another sip of coffee through the thin, black straw, his eyes slightly squinting from the sunshine pouring on us as we sat outside the coffee shop. finally, I said, “why though? I’ve never even met him and I don’t want to intrude on your bro time.”

jay rolls his eyes and I can’t help but chuckle. “we have bro time all the time. I just thought that maybe, y’know, since you haven’t gone out much recently and—“ he takes one good look at my quizzical state and his bullshit is derailed. “OH FINE! jake really wants to meet you. there!” he leans back and folds his arms, defeatedly.

“what?” is the first thing I say before I could even think. “why didn’t you just tell me straight up?” again, I laugh, because it all seemed so childish. as if we were passing notes with yes and no checkboxes.

“well…” jay starts, twisting his face a little, which starts to worry me. “he’s a bit shy.”

another lie. one so bad that I nearly wheezed. “shy?” I said through my laughter. “jake sim, shy? we both know that jake has no problem approaching anybody, especially women.” jake isn’t exactly a fuckboy, or at least that’s what I’ve heard, but he’s known to be a huge flirt. always unnecessarily brushing back that silky brown hair of his and licking those plump lips. I don’t know, but that sounds like fuckboy behavior to me.

extra defeated, jay sighs, “y/n, just come. I mean it’s not like you got anything better to do.” I honestly couldn’t argue with him there. I don’t consider myself a homebody but my bed is pretty comfy, especially on the weekends.

I groaned and finally surrendered, “ugh, fine!”

jay says nothing, just smiles and sips victoriously at his damn coffee.

 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 

now I don’t want to say that I was nervous meeting jake—THE y/n obviously never gets nervous—but my hands were a little sweaty and my leg was bouncing pretty much throughout most of the car ride. I know jay noticed, but he didn’t dare say anything. he knew I’d give him a mouthful.

luckily (or maybe not), the ride wasn’t long at all. my guess was around 15 minutes. however, time is an illusion and felt both like 5 minutes and 5 hours, especially since jay didn’t say much. he let the music, and the gps lady who kept rudely interrupting, do all the talking.

he doesn’t say anything until we’ve pulled up in front of jake’s apartment building. “we’re here,” he says while pulling the gearshift to park. if I was in my normal headspace I’d say something snappy like ‘obviously’ or ‘no shit,’ but my mind was too preoccupied with jake. I tried to piece together all the information that I knew about him, either from jay or others—his luscious dark brown hair that remained perfect even after he combed his hands through it a dozen times, perfect glass skin that shined in all the right places, plump lips that were often wet from his constant licking, his kind and compassionate heart that contradicted his flirty exterior. I tried to piece all of that together to make a face, a body, a person, but my mind’s eye could have never guessed who he truly was.

I follow jay out the car and I noticed that he seemed just as nervous as me as he nearly fumbled his keys when trying to lock his car. I let out a laugh that quickly lifts the tension and brings us back to our goofy selves. “you saw nothing.”

I let jay lead the way towards the building and up the two flights of stairs until he stops at the black door on the far right, and three knocks later I finally see him.

The first thing I notice, which might be cheesy as fuck, is his smile. it was so bright and pure, like he was genuinely happy to see us, and his sparkly eyes confirmed that. then, I see that his hair isn’t as dark as I pictured it. it had more of a reddish tone and reminded me of a rusted penny. he wore a white shirt with a dark blue button up over it that looked to be made of denim. and before I get the chance to look at his pants he says, “hey,” in that thick aussie accent. it felt weird to actually hear it in person. jay greets him back and I wave, and even though I didn’t speak his attention turned towards me. It seemed that he was doing the same thing I was a moment ago, analyzing me.

in order not to come off as creepy or awkward, I assume, jake steps aside from the door and invites us in. from first glance, jake didn’t seem as messy as jay swore he was. I was half-expecting clothes and empty cans to be all over the place but the living room was nearly sparkling.

once again, before my mind could completely process everything, jake steps in front of me and extends his hand towards me. “it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m jake.” oh, trust me. I know.

I laugh. not just because of his adorable smile that crinkled his eyes and smile lines, but also because he greeted me as if I was the queen of england or something. “y/n,” I reply and shake his hand firmly. his hands were soft. not alarmingly soft, but enough to know that he took care of himself.

after I let go, jake then motions that same arm towards the living room area and says, “make yourself at home.” don’t mind if I do I think to myself as I head for the decent sized leather couch. in front of it was a small glass coffee table that had the tv remote and a couple empty red solo cups. the tv, which I guessed to be about 40 inches, was mounted on the wall.

“would you like something to drink?” jake asks me as he collects the empty cups, his ears noticeably red. “we got lemonade, coke, water,” he adds, and I go with lemonade and jay requests a coke before plopping down next to me.

then rest of the day carried on like normal. seriously. the awkwardness literally faded away from there on out. we talked and joked as if we’ve been hanging out forever.

in all honesty, I was half-expecting for jake to make a move, but he didn’t. whether it was because jay was there or because I was already over analyzing how he felt about me, I’m not sure.

I would get my answer soon enough, though.

 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 

fast forward a couple weeks later, jake and I have been texting each other pretty much on a daily basis. since it’s been finals season in addition to having completely different schedules, we hadn’t had the opportunity to hang out again until today.

now you might be wondering if I’ve forgotten or shoved aside that whole weird wingman act jay did that had me meet jake in the first place. absolutely not. I went along with it, trying to act oblivious.

jake wasn’t flirty in the very beginning, he waited to about a week after meeting to call me pretty. week two he got adventurous and called me baby and princess, which I shut down immediately by telling him that those names won’t charm me and he’s going to have to do better than that. to which he replied, “yes, ma’am,” which I’ll admit did make my stomach flutter a bit. just a little bit tho.

I debated with myself if I was going to tell him that I’m dominant. he does a great job of coming off as dominant as possible and it’s quite fun to act dumb, but on the other hand I can’t help imagining him on his knees, looking up at me and saying ‘yes, ma’am’ to my every command.

by the time the day had come for us to hang out at jake’s apartment again, I had made my mind. that same bright smile he gave me as he opened the door only confirmed my decision.

his outfit today was very simple and cozy; a beige hoodie with black jeans, and he looked nice. his hair was still parted in the middle and looked a tad longer than it was last time I saw him. his bangs were now well past his eyebrows.

“hey, you look great,” I haven’t even gone past the door and he’s already complimenting me, as he should though because he wasn’t wrong. I was wearing a dark red cami with black lace underneath a black zip up hoodie and with black jeans. I also put on black eyeliner and a dark red lip stain to put it all together.

“why, thank you,” I said coyly, waving my hand at him. he chuckles and invites me in. I kick off my shoes and scanned around the living room for jay but he was nowhere to be found. “is jay not here yet?” I ask, and jake hesitates for a slight moment.

“oh nahhh,” he says. “he had last minute work to catch up on.”

‘then why didn’t he tell me?’ is what I wanted to say, but again, I acted oblivious. “ah, what a shame.”

“yeah, but don’t worry, we’ll have just as much fun. you hungry?”

“starving.”

i followed him into the kitchen as he lists the numerous snacks he had, including his secret stash he kept hidden from jay or any other of his friends who come over. “then maybe we can order something,” he adds after he realizes he didn’t have anything that could pass for a meal.

“sounds good. I’ll take a rice krispy.” he throws me a m&m rice krispy treat, then pulls up a delivery app on his phone. we settle on a local mexican restaurant and once he orders it and tells me it will arrive in an hour, I start my attack. “y’know,” I start, then crumple the left over wrapper and toss it in the bin. “I feel like you’re not telling me something.”

his adam’s apple jumps. “w-what do you mean?”

“I played dumb, but I noticed jay trying to get us together, you flirting with me. I bet jay doesn’t even have any work to do right now.”

by now his face is flushed and I could practically see him trying to scrabble his mind for excuses. “I-” he starts, and I walk closer to him, trapping him between me and the kitchen counter.

“you what?” I challenge, staring him down.

“I was interested in you but,” he pauses and his eyes flicker, “I found out about your… type, and I wanted to see if I could, I guess, change it? heeseung told me.” heeseung.

my mind instantly goes back to the night I snuck him on my bed. his face against my pillow and his bare back arched towards me as I pounded him. his back muscles tensed everytime I hit his spot, and he barely tried to lower his girlish moans and whimpers or his constant ‘oh yes’s and ‘oh fuck’s.’

then I start to become furious. “do you know how silly that sounds?” I ask, rhetorically. “you really thought you could change me, dominate me, but look at you. you look like a sorry puppy.”

I knew that set something off inside of him. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I saw what I know recognize as lust start to pool in his eyes and his jaw go slack. then he swallows and finally says, “I’m sorry.” and before I could shit on his lousy apology he adds, “I’m really sorry. I should of never tried to change you, you just ended up changing me.”

I raised my eyebrow at him because I had no idea what he meant by that. but then he grabs my wrist and guides my hand to his neck. momentarily, I let my hand hang loosely around him as I get over the initial shock. however, it doesn’t take too long for me to start squeezing and jake throws his back and let’s his eyes close.

“look at you,” I chuckle darkly, “I bet you planned to have me bent over, but here I am choking you, and you like it.” he moans, and I choke him harder.

I then let my hand palm his jeans. he moans and raises his hips to meet my hand. I rub my fingers along his boner and my other hand releases his neck. he takes a deep inhale and then watches me tease him.

“please,” he whines, raising his hips again.

“do you really think you deserve it?” I asked, coldly.

“no ma’am. I’ve been a bad puppy.”

my eyes widen, instantly. never would I have thought that jake sim would ever say anything like that, and by the looks of his flushed cheeks and nervous eyes, I could tell he didn’t either.

I smirk and place my arms on the counter behind him, now leaning against his body. he whimpers as his dick rubs against my thigh and he’s basically begging for me with those puppy eyes of his, but I don’t plan to give him any release anytime soon. “then you should be punished,” I say, lowly.

to which he replies, “yes, ma’am. punish me,” in the most desperate tone I’ve ever heard. I push myself back off the counter and pull him by one of his belt straps. “where to?”

he leads me to his bedroom, which is pretty basic. he had white wooden furniture and the only decorations I could see where pictures of his family and his dog, but I didn’t look around long at all. once I closed the door I commanded him to strip. he does so with ease, although his hands were noticeably shaky. he starts with his hoodie, which coincidentally has no shirt underneath. his abdomen and arms are perfectly toned, a perfect canvas for some marks. next, he slides his jeans and briefs down his legs in a quick motion, and when he straightens up his dick is standing tall. precum is oozing and dripping down his red tip, and his shaft is thick and veiny.

“you look so good,” I compliment him. “too bad you’ve been a naughty puppy. on your knees.” jake doesn’t question me and does as he’s told. he sits on his feet and places his hands on his thighs on either side of his leaking cock. he looks up with those charming eyes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“don’t be too mean,” he whines, using his best puppy eyes to persuade me.

unfortunately, it doesn’t work for him. “bit too late for that now. safeword?” I ask him and it only takes him a second to come up with one, “soccer.”

I unzipped my hoodie and threw it on the edge of his bed. the heat from my stomach and my core was becoming too much and I could already feel my underwear getting soaked, yet I kept the rest of my clothes on for the time being. jake still needed to be broken.

I grab a fistful of his soft hair and yank his head upward, earning a hiss and small whine in response. he liked that. a deep groan confirms it after another experimental tug. “who would’ve thought you were such a painslut,” I smirk, and it seems like jake almost shrinks in embarrassment. “what would jay and heeseung think? I wonder if you made a bet with either of them.”

immediately, he shakes his head the best he could with my fingers still tangled in his hair, “no, ma’am. there was no bet. I just wanted you so bad.” his confession takes me a little by surprise. I never thought he’d be so needy. turns out under that fuckboy persona of his, he was just a desperate slut. how cute.

“well, you’re going to have to work for me.” I remove my hand from his hair and place it on his cheek. “now be a good puppy.” after another cute ‘yes ma’am,’ I step back and return my gaze onto his neglected boner. he’s done a great job keeping his hands off so I lift my foot and rub his swollen tip against my sock. jake moans and ruts his hips against me. I lightly kick his shaft as a warning, “sit still.” he yelps and bites his lip. his hands are now fists on top of his thighs as he fights the urge to grind against my foot.

I continue teasing his dick until I feel his precum leaking through my sock. meanwhile, jake is making all kind of unholy noises and eventually leans back on his palms so I could tease his whole length and his balls. “please, please, please,” he begs to no avail. it just results in me ordering him to take off my now stained socks.

then I figured it was time to move onto his bed. my desire to straddle him was growing by the second. as he gets on his bed, I strip off my jeans and let them sit near my socks on the floor. my panties were now completely soaked with a huge wet patch (which wasn’t as noticeable since the panties I wore today were black). I catch jake staring at them as I climb next him, quickly swiping his tongue along his lips, which urges me to kiss him. his lips are so hungry and practically chase mine as I slide my hand down his chest. his body is hot to touch and I feel the swear start to form on his skin as he tenses up from my touch.

his eyes are still closed when I pull away, wanting more. I turn my attention back towards his dick and finally I wrap my hand around it. he’s still dripping with precum and I gather it all up by rubbing my thumb over his slit. he’s so close, he’s basically moaning in my ear. more desperate pleas leave his chewed lips as I rub his slit. I silence him by bringing my wet thumb to his mouth. he gladly parts his lips and let’s his tongue lap at his juices with half-lidded eyes. “there you go,” I praise.

at this point, my insides were melting because of how turned on I was. I needed to be on top of him now, and that’s exactly what I did next. I balanced myself on his shoulders and lean down for another quick kiss on his lips then trailing off to his jaw and his neck. jake shivers beneath me and grabs onto my hips. he’s so sensitive throughout his neck and each nibble of my teeth has him squirming and begging.

after leaving one good hickey and faint lipstick stains on the side of his neck, just below his ear, I scoot up and hover my core over his mouth. my thighs, which both had streaks of my essence dripping down them, straddled his head. jake looks at my wet panties, ripping them apart with his eyes before presenting his tongue. he licks a quick stripe as soon as I lower myself onto him, collecting all the liquid that threatened to drip onto his chin. I let myself sigh as he gives a few more puppy licks and grab hold of his hair. “you taste so good,” he moans, and then I completely sit on his face.

my eyes naturally close and my head is thrown back as he sucks my underwear dry, occasionally humming and sending vibrations throughout my pussy. “yeah that’s it,” I groan, slowly grinding my hips on his tongue, “use that tongue of yours, puppy.” he has a few more laps before I lift myself off of his face. jake whines in protest, and with his small pout I was almost expecting him to pull me back down.

instead, he cries, “please can I cum? please, please, please. it hurts so bad.” I could see the tears threatening to spill from his glossy eyes.

“hmm,” I tap my chin, “maybe if you beg some more I’ll let you.”

“please, please, please, mommy! I need you to touch me and make me cum so bad. I’ll be a good puppy, I promise.”

him calling me mommy nearly made me go feral. I was holding myself back this whole time for the sake of his punishment, and now I needed him as much as he needed me. so I tossed my panties, shirt, and bra aside and pulled jake’s cock towards my entrance. we both moan as I sink down onto him. he stretches my walls so nicely.

“fuck, mommy, you feel so good,” he curses when I start riding him. my pace is moderate, switching between me bouncing and grinding on his cock. my walls grip onto him, making him moan and curse even more. “yes, mommy. fuck me.”

his hands reattach themselves onto my hips. his face is now completely fucked out—his eyes half-lidded, his jaw slack and consistently releasing loud moans, his hair sticking to the sweat that’s accumulated on his forehead. I was honestly surprised he lasted as long as he did.

“mommy can I cum on you, please? I’ll clean it up, mommy. please.”

“go ahead, puppy. cum for mommy,” i say as I get off his dick. pearly white rope instantly shoots out from his slit and onto my stomach and chest. as promised, jake gathers his cum on my stomach with his fingers and sucks them clean, then licks the cum off my chest, sneaking a small suck on my nipple.

we collapsed next to each other afterwards, gathering our breaths and our thoughts before going to clean ourselves up. jake thanks me after he hands me a bottled water. although I wasn’t exactly sure what he was thanking me for, I still respond with “of course.”

briefly, I worried that things would be awkward between us. considering that jake only said he was attracted to me and didn’t specify if he had any romantic feelings for me, I half-expected him to treat me like a one night stand. however, he was sweet and offered to keep me in his bed to rest and that’s where we ate our mexican food when it shortly arrived afterwards before cuddling the rest of the night.

I had no idea what was next for us—a relationship, a friends with benefits arrangement, or maybe this really was just a one night stand. at that moment, I was content with either of those.

all I was certain of is that the next person I was punishing was jay.

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#sub!jake #sub!jaeyun #sub!enhypen #sub!idol #sub!kpop #dom!reader #dom!fem!reader #jake smut #jaeyun smut #enhypen smut

[onboardsorasora]

Renovation AU

Ok I tried to stop but I couldn't stop thinking about Renovation AU (especially considering I was literally going to write it then got derailed by Enchated AU: Christmas). And then when I wrote this little snippet it was like floodgates. so here it is Renovation AU in all its outline glory all 2k words of it 🥴🥴🥴I'll just put it under the cut

Max is a handyman/contractor. I know I know. We know how his hammer skills are and how he looks holding it and an axe. But let's just pretend he actually learned this skill and he's fucking hot about it and it triggers every competency kink.

He's built, he was able to grow into his stockiness and he's strong (I'm thinking like that tree splitting tiktok guy but not as Thor thick)

Christian hires Nyck as an interior designer and Nyck hires on Max and his small team. They get shit done. Geri wants to redo the whole cottage and they have until the start of the riding season? to get it done. (Don't question me. I know nothing about riding)

So anyways– they’re behind and Christian doesn’t think Nyck can manage the scope of the job so he fires him and hires on Daniel. Daniel’s a little bit more eclectic than Nyck– but he came highly recommended by Lewis and Seb and Geri loved what he did with their house in Switzerland so she had no problems changing directions a bit.

The problem becomes clear because Max and Nyck work well together, they know each other. Max doesn’t like big change and Daniel is a big change. He’s also good looking but that doesn’t matter. He’s annoying and picky and refuses to go by Nyck’s old plans and his laugh is funny and endearing and his face is pretty and his tattoos are cool.

But none of that matters. None.

Daniel is excited to get working, but he thinks Christian could have been a bit more forthcoming about how far behind they were. Daniel was expecting that maybe he’d be starting on some walls or something, he came with with swatches and tiles and everything. But no….the house is still pretty husk-like. And he’s annoyed cause now he’s standing there in his shorts and sneakers looking like a dick on this construction site.

Anyway, it doesnt matter because he comes prepared! He has like overalls in his raptor. So he grabs that and changes right there in full view of god and everyone. Why yes he is wearing his hot pink hot pants, thanks for fucking noticing. The creative juices always flow when he’s wearing them!

So he goes to Max– who is fucking hot– and also very angry with him. And Daniel gets it, because he and Nyck were friends and there's nothing worse than seeing your friend get fired for things out of their control.

No matter, Daniel is profesh. He can work in almost any environment and he’s not going to embarrass Sewis like that. They’re long time clients and friends. And their recommendations are always highly regarded.

So Daniel gets to work, first he’s helping this guy named Simon update the bricking outside, Geri wanted a whitewash on the southern side so the garden doesn’t get too hot and it’ll match with the new patio going in. Then he’s helping a guy named Genty inside the bathroom– a couple of the pipes needed updating. There weren’t any leaks but no one uses lead pipes anymore for reasons. And then he helps GP lay some new tiles in the bedrooms so that the floors are heated in the winter.

So this is going on for a few days, Daniel helping members of the team, building a rapport– keeping a wide berth of Max. Because Daniel knows when to not ruffle feathers. But he can’t avoid him forever, so finally when all the walls are up and the electrical is done. Daniel goes to Max with the new plans– because his part of the show is about to start.

Max…isn’t happy. Sure the changes aren’t that major, and it's not like they’ll be undoing anything his team has already done. But how dare this guy with his hot accent and laugh come in and befriend his team?! If Max had to hear one more inside joke that he has no clue about or hear his crew talk about Daniel this and Daniel that, he was going to throw a hammer.

So when Daniel comes to him one evening to go over plans, Max doesn’t really want to hear it. He’s come here in his shiny truck (untrue, the truck is dirty as fuck– they work in a construction site), in his tight fucking pants (ok true, Daniel’s work pants are a tad on the skinny side), and his fucking city boots (it was one day the first day. And Max will never let it go), and his gelled hair (ok fine, he makes sure to use his curl cream. Daniel is vain), and tries to take over Max’s job site.

So Max lays into him, letting out all his frustration and pent up sexual tension for this guy that he’s barely interacted with but hears all the time and sees his team– his friends enjoy his presence and maybe he also feels a little left out. And Daniel just stands there and takes it, doesn’t interrupt him, doesn’t fight back. Even when Max is saying blatantly untrue things– but he got a good rant going and Daniel wasn’t stopping him so he was just gonna keep going.

“–and your fucking hot pink–” Max cuts himself off because there was no reason to finish that thought. And Daniel gets this smug fucking grin on his face that Max just wants to kiss off.

“My hot pink what now?” Daniel raises a brow in a challenge that Max is so not going to take. But Daniel is nothing, if not a little shit. “Were you checking me out when I was oh so privately changing that one time Maxy?”

“You stripped in the middle of the driveway while everyone was working. That was hardly private, I think Daniel.”

“But no one else has mentioned my hot pink underwear Maxy Max. Did you like what you saw?” Daniel is dragging a finger along Max’s shoulder at this point and Max is just..frozen in place because how did we get here????

“I– well–You are changing in the middle of a site Daniel. You, of course, cannot be crying modesty now!”

“You wanna know what other colours I wear?”

“Don’t be silly Daniel.”

“Of course not Maxy, yesterday when I was tiling the guest bedroom with GP, I wore my favourite bright green pair that has some smokey black watercolour pattern. And when I was outside doing the patio I was wearing this pretty yellow polka dot ones.”

“I think that's enough Daniel, maybe. I do not–” Max is trying to push him away because when did he even get cornered by this wall? Who put a wall here??

“Oh but I think you’ll like the pair for today, you’re Dutch right? Do all Dutchies like the colour orange?”

“That’s enough Daniel I think! We–we can do the plan your way! It should look great–Geri will love it! I–I think I should go. Have a good night Daniel!” And Max manhandles Daniel out of his way and gtfo’s. He does not think about how Daniel’s waist felt under his arms because why did he even grab there??? He does not think about the fucking hot smirk on Daniels stupid face and kissable mouth and he absolutely does not think about Daniel’s ass in orange hot pants. Nope. He doesn’t.

That changes everything of course. He’s way more aware of where Daniel is in the house now. And its not like Daniel is going anything different. They speak now, and Daniel teases him with tool puns and very bad jokes and Max laughs at every single one because he’s down so bad. And everyone knows it.

Daniel makes random comments when they're alone, pouring over the blueprints and notes, about how Max’s thighs look like they can crush things and the he’ll make a loud offhand comment to the guys about having thighs wrapped around his face when they’re all making increasingly lewd sex jokes at lunch.

Daniel tells Max that he likes his thigh holster and Max internalizes the implications. So what if he’s blushing while they install the kitchen– he’s exerting himself!

Anyway they’re getting closer to the deadline, they have furniture delivery coming soon and there's still so much to do. Daniel has the team painting and wallpapering and Genty is doing the crown moulding and GP is finishing up the fireplace in the den and Max and Daniel are arguing about a chandelier that Geri wanted last minute. 

“We can extend it a little lower by three maybe four inches, c’mon Max it’ll really change like the look of the room. If it's too high then it’ll look too small and throws everything off.”

They're standing in the middle of the formal dining room, surrounded by chaos. Everyone is tired and a bit cranky because they’ve truly been going non-stop to meet this deadline. 

“It’ll be too low Daniel and the weight distribution will be off." Max sighs because he’s tired of arguing about this.

"Well if your guys installed the fucking beams–" Max had enough, he was tired, he was annoyed and he would not have Daniel complain about his team and fucking beams so late in the build. He sees white and he pushes Daniel’s chest. He’s mad, you don’t talk about his guys. He’s mad and Daniel is annoying and fuck. Max presses Daniel up against the wall and kisses him hard. And Daniel grips his shoulder and kisses him back.

And literally no one bats an eyelash because fucking finally. They can get shit finished now.

So they compromise on 2.5 inches lower. And Max is now wired because now he knows what Daniel feels like under him, pressed against him. Now he knows how his lips and mouth taste and what Daniel’s stubble feels like against his jaw.

It's late another night, the guys have all gone home and Max is with Daniel in the finally finished kitchen, going over what’s left to be done. Daniel’s team would be coming with the furniture install in 2 days so they needed to have everything done for them to take over.

Their time together is coming to an end and Max can’t stop looking at Daniel’s focused face while he makes a list and tries to figure out the best way to make things work. He’s staring at Daniel’s lips, at his nose, at the furrow of his brows.

Daniel looks up at him like ‘what?’, eyes wide and owlish? They really haven’t spoken about the kiss– not about it or what it meant or anything.

And then Max is kissing Daniel again and Daniel is all in. And it’s a push and pull between them and it’s hot and messy and they fuck right there in the kitchen. Daniel sucks Max’s dick in the nook that the stove’s supposed to go in and Max bends Daniel over the countertop (which they had argued about whether it was the correct height–it was).

Anyway so the house is finished, Geri is in love. Christian is happy with it all and life goes on. Max and Daniel go on a few dates, they fuck a lot and when Daniel got hired for another big job, he hired on Max as his contractor. 

It kinda went that way for a little bit, them doing jobs together, their teams merging until they make the leap to start a business together. Which incidentally happened before they took the step to move in together. Which is funny because they technically already did. A lot of Daniel’s stuff– clothes, plans, swatches– are already strewn around Max’s place and the cats know to leave the tiles and swatches alone. But moving together is a big step. Starting a business together is just smart. Anyway, they love each other and are grossly in love and their guys tease them about it daily. And Daniel now starts every job in his hot pink hot pants.

#there! its finally out of my brain #Its beautiful I love it #I hope you guys like it #renovation au #max/daniel #maxiel #my fic