#love my patchy boy

[livinginshambles]

Not ridiculous at all | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You are part of the marauders, always having felt special when they called you part of the gang, but also consequently too embarrassed to admit to wanting to be more feminine, afraid that they would no longer deem you cool enough to hang out with you. You are hurt by James' comments and James might realise something when you're avoiding him.

Notes: Best friend!James, he's a bit stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, arguments, so maybe a little angsty, but not really, classic cliche tropes like friends to lovers, misunderstandings, pining (I literally just dreamt this so it's a bit patchy) and I know it's very stereotypical but that's why it's just fanfiction :)

(PS) I haven't written before, just wanted to get this out of my system. English is my third language, and this fic is not proofread because I'm way too lazy for that! Enjoy!

Part two Masterlist

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You've grown up with James Potter and have been part of the marauders since the very beginning. You always took 'being one of the guys' or 'part of the gang' as a compliment, it left you feeling giddy as if you were included in some secret group that only you had the privilege of belonging to.

But sometimes you would sit in the girls dormitory and despite your friends laughing and chatting about, you would feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. They often did activities together and by now, 6th year at Hogwarts, they've managed to stop asking you to join them as you've always dutifully replied that it 'wasn't your thing'.

I mean, what would the guys think of you? It would be too embarrassing to admit to them, or anyone for that matter, that you would love to be dolled up for once. To go shopping with your friends, be included in movie nights, asked by Alice if she could test some makeup on you, or read and gossip about the new romance novels that were the new hype.

Especially now when you sat on your bed, part of the circle in which they were discussing plans to go dress shopping.

"You should absolutely join us!" Alice squealed in delight. You were shaken out of your train of thoughts with a huh and realized the conversation had taken a turn somewhere and now included you too. Marlene and Lily nodded fervently in agreement but you bashfully shook your head.

"Nah, can you imagine me in a dress?" You joked, but Dorcas caught the curious and somewhat longing look in your eyes at the mention of getting ready for the Yule ball.

"I think you would look great actually. And besides, you can treat yourself too sometime you know. You're not obligated to stick with the marauders all the time." The girls in the dorm once again all agreed and you smiled at their kindness.

"Since when are you interested in things like the Yule ball?"

You snapped your head up at James to see his questioning eyes and then quickly averted your own in a flustered manner as if one of your greatest secrets had just been uncovered. "I just think it seems nice, that's all, I'm not even going or anything", you defended. You felt slightly embarrassed by James' face which wore a weirded out expression.

"Well you're not really the type to go to such an event anyway right?", James remarked. You did your best to hide your frown at his immediate agreement. Was it that bad that you'd hoped he would say something along the lines of 'what are you talking about, go enjoy yourself at the party' or something like that?

"Besides I can't imagine you in a dress, all made up, it'd just look so ridiculous." James continued. Remus, ever the sweet and attentive boy glanced at you and noticed your slightly sacked shoulders in disappointment at his words.

"I mean you're just not that type of person, you know? Like completely opposite of Lily."

And with that your face felt like it burned from embarrassment. As if you didn't already know. That didn't mean you didn't want to be more like her sometimes.

Peter's eyes flicked with concern from James to you and back.

You felt hurt and forced yourself to stop tears welling up at his words, mustering up a grin, ready to agree with him but were interrupted by Sirius who had now also caught your change in mood.

"Prongs, you really have no tact at all, how are you expecting to even win Evans over with that?" He said in a playful manner as to not offend their whipped friend, but not fully succeeding.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" James looked slightly offended and Remus jumped in the conversation.

"That's just not a nice thing to say. It's different if you call me an ugly toad, but not Y/N! If she wants to go to the Yule Ball all dolled up, she definitely should." He shot you a supportive smile which you returned.

Peter nodded in agreement. "I don't think you'd look ridiculous at all," he told you sincerely. You subtly scooted a little closer to him and Remus.

"But it's Y/N, it'd just look weird, cause she's just not a proper girl like that, no offense." James shot back and gave you a smile at the last two words.

You saw Remus opening his mouth to retort but quickly intervened. "He's right." You told them. You just wanted this conversation to be over with already. It was awkward and painful for you as it was.

James didn't seem to get the memo, however, and kept on going, drilling your confidence further into the ground.

"See, she agrees." He turned to you. "It's not like you're ugly or anything but it'd be ridiculous. Like I said, you're not the type to be all beautiful and dressed up, hair done and all. I mean you're cool, but not pretty like that." He was clearly not done yet and started talking about Lily and her beauty at which point you abruptly got up and left.

"What's gotten into her?" James remarked with a frown.

Sirius and Remus didn't even bother to answer and just stared at him in disbelief.

The girls comforted you as you cried. Marlene barged in with ice cream, stolen from the kitchen in one hand and 5 spoons in the other. "What a jerk." She commented and thrust a spoon in your hand before plopping down in front of you with the rest of your friends.

Lily sighed frustratedly. "See this is why I don't like him at all. He's so rude and arrogant, and he-"

"- is right." You answered dejectedly. "I'm your friend, but not the type to join you guys and belong to your circle."

"Well that's only because you hang around the boys all the time," Alice argued. She nudged you. "But you know what, now that James is being a git, you can hang out with us!"

Dorcas gasped dramatically. "We could do a girls night! Treat ourselves a little", she jumped up. "I'll get the face masks and nail polish!"

Lily let go of you too and told you to sit up. "Come on, let me do your hair," she smiled.

With Marlene feeding you ice cream, your nails being polished by Alice, hair done by Lily and Dorcas reading the latest romance novel out loud while you were all wearing a facemask, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.

"I love you guys."

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

You laughed and pushed Marlene teasingly off the bed.

"Hey, watch it! I just finished your right hand." Alice complained.

James was a moron. He was kind hearted (to most), popular, captain of the Quidditch team, good looking but a moron nonetheless. So he was absolutely clueless to find you missing from the common room yesterday evening and even more clueless when you were missing from your usual spot next to him at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, because he could not for the life of him think of a reason why you would sit with Alice and Frank instead.

He frowned and felt uneasy at the fact that you hadn't even looked at him, let alone come for a hug with your smile and said 'good morning' like usual. He shook the thoughts away. You were obviously allowed to have your own friends as well and not obligated to spend all your time with him.

The door of the great hall behind him opened and Lily Evans walked in, which was why instead of walking up to you to say something, he habitually turned to Lily instead.

"You look beautiful this morning as usual. I could put in the effort to match you when we go out together?" He shot her a wink and a coy smile but faltered slightly when his attempts at flirting got even less of a reaction out of her than usual.

James turned to Sirius with a questioning look, as if to ask 'you noticed that too right?' but Sirius simply shrugged. When James looked back at Frank and Alice, you were gone, having left the moment you felt his stare.

James started to ponder. 'Were you avoiding him? Surely you wouldn't, right? You two were friends after all, childhood friends. Childhood best friends even, for Merlin's sake! If you were upset with him, you'd definitely let him know.'

A week passed with you, sitting on the opposite sides of the classroom, seemingly having picked partners long before class because how else would you team up with random students before James could even blink?

He had now fully accepted that you were avoiding him. And with that, he meant 'accepting the possibility of that occurrence'. He was by no means going to accept your strange new behavior without doing anything.

The last drop though, was when he heard the news from Peter that you'd already left for Hogsmeade with the girls.

He frowned. 'You were kind', he reasoned. If you were upset with him, then he'd have to apologize. Quickly. Because it's been far too long without his best friend and he realized he missed you. Especially seeing you hang out with others.

"What did I do?" He finally asked his remaining friends.

"Really Prongs?" Remus couldn't help but ask. His friend just gave him a look that said 'well go on then, what is it'.

"How about you think about what you said last week, you know, those rude comments about the Yule ball."

"Yeah, but I already apologized yesterday and told her that I didn't mean to offend her!" James flailed his arms around when he exclaimed it.

"But she's still only hanging out with anyone but me," he whined. "Peter studied with her, Pads got a 'good morning' this morning and you're still talking to eachother.

Remus gave him an unimpressed look at his whining but James was not done complaining yet.

"She keeps spending all her time with the girls while she doesn't even seem to be fully enjoying herself"

This was true. You dearly missed James, so despite your newfound hobbies, a look of sadness sometimes fell over your face, which hadn't escaped James' attention.

"And I just don't understand why she would-" He started but never finished, something dawning on him. "Oh of course! Merlin, I'm so stupid!" He shouted out in epiphany.

"Your words not mine," Sirius quickly took the opportunity.

"Oh bugger off Pads", James laughed and pushed Sirius' arm. And with that, he took off to find you.

Sirius and Remus watched him leave and sighed at the same time. "Do you really think he got it?"

"I bloody hope so, Moony."

"But it's James."

"Yeah, but I mean it's not my fight but even I realize that she's sad that James made fun of the idea of her being more girly when she secretly wants to be. Now she's trying out what she likes, without having to stay within the role of 'one of the guys'. I mean, it's pretty straightforward. I guess a genuine apology and show of support is the solution."

"But it's James."

"Yep, you're right."

Though he hadn't been able to find you, he'd waited patiently for your return in the common room. Staring at the ceiling from his laid back position on the couch.

"Oh there you are, Y/N," He rushed to sit up to face you when you entered the room. If you were surprised by his presence, you didn't show it.

"We need to talk, I wanted to apologize." He breathed out, relieved at himself for having figured it out. "Also, I've missed you so much."

You felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You didn't want to be upset with him and felt incredibly relieved to hear him say that.

"I'm sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean for you to get offended or anything," James began.

"Yeah, you already said that." You frowned. "And I remember I told you that that was not a proper apology."

"I know, I know. It was shitty of me so I wanted to apologize. Properly you know? I'm really really sorry. I was a terrible friend and shouldn't have said the things I said. Please forgive me?" He proceeded to give you Bambi eyes in an attempt to convince you. It unsurprisingly worked.

You softly smiled up at him. "Okay". You barely got the word out before he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

"Great," he said, cutting through the comfortable silence that you two had been hugging in.

"Now you don't have to avoid me anymore, and you can stop sitting with the girls to prove your point, and join us again instead." He triumphantly continued.

What now?

You blanked. "I'm sorry?" You managed to ask.

"I get that I hurt you by saying your weren't a proper girl, but you don't have to pretend to prove your point by trying to be one." James stated, proud of himself that he figured it out.

"Because I can see that you don't like it, like your face gets all gloomy which is understandable because it isn't really your circle of people."

You stared at him, an incredulous look on your face.

"Fuck you James." You said, your voice coming out softer than you'd hoped. Tears were welling up again, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I do want that to be my circle of people? That I don't just want to be one of the guys all the time? Is it that crazy to think that I'm still a girl with feelings? That I want to feel pretty too? That I don't like being told by my supposed best friend that I'm basically ugly? That I hate to be compared to other girls like that?"

You were ranting and James had taken a step back, surprised by your outburst.

"No, that's not what I-", James tried to salvage the situation but you weren't having it.

"You've told me that stuff for as long as I can remember and I never told you otherwise because I was scared that you'd no longer want to hang out with me for not being a 'chill friend'. But you know what, I no longer want you to."

At this point, you angrily wiped your eyes to get rid of tears that were threatening to spill. "So fuck you". With that, you brushed past him, escaping upstairs to your room.

James Fleamont Potter felt absolutely miserable.

If anyone told James that you'd ever be more on his mind than Lily, he would call them ridiculous. But here he was, another week had passed and he was staring at your back as you were leaving with your friends for Hogsmeade again.

You weren't wearing your school uniform and robes anymore and James was surprised to see you wearing one of what he knew to be Lily's dresses.

'It suited you more than it suited Lily.' The unwarranted thought flashed through his mind and he shook his head with a scoff to himself. What was going on?

James also noticed that your hair was brushed and shining with a butterfly clip holding your hair in a bun. He wondered when you decided to change your hairstyle because he found that it framed your face perfectly.

'Not ridiculous at all,' he understood.

You looked absolutely perfect.

You turned your face a little and James could feel his head reeling. Have you always been this glowing? Was he just simply missing you? He didn't even realize that he hadn't spared Lily a glance- until Sirius mentioned her while they were having a drink - and a strange feeling washed over him at the thought.

You were running from Filch.

'Fuck I shouldn't have studied after hours, curfew was probably hours ago," you cursed to yourself and took a sharp right turn. You were trying to reach the secret passage right behind the big statue on the fourth floor when you saw the hallway light up because of Filches torch.

Forcing your legs to move faster, you were suddenly grabbed by the wrist. A hand was clasped over your mouth and you felt a heavy cloth fall over you.

You recognised the person pressed to your back immediately and tried not to melt in his embrace as Filch walked straight past the two of you, covered in the invisibility cloak.

You could feel his breath against your temple. His hand had dropped from your mouth, instead draping across your stomach now to rest on your side. The other held out in front of you to create space under the cloak. You shifted a little and finally turned your head and lifted it to look at him and thank him but you were unable to say anything for a moment.

You simply admired him.

The proximity of the two of you in that intimate embrace had something fluttering in your stomach and you harshly jerked away in denial when your feelings hit you.

Oh no.

Now, all suddenly? What changed? Does it really take one random moment to flip your world upside down?

You rushed to push the invisibility cloak out of your way and then left without sparing James another glance.

James couldn't force his legs to move to run after you, still reeling from about the exact same epiphany that you'd just run away from. Your gaze, his fast beating heart and the urge he had felt to lean down for a kiss had confirmed his conflicted feelings of the past few days since he'd seen you leave for Hogsmeade.

The following morning, you'd had the chance to properly process the happenings of last night.

Your conclusion was that you felt guilty that you hadn't even expressed your gratitude. It was rude, you figured. Even if you were overwhelmed by the sudden wave of realization that came crashing down on you, it was rude.

So you pushed your confused feelings aside and marched up to him when you found him in the great hall.

"Thanks, I owe you." You awkwardly said, stopping at his spot at the Gryffindor table. All while absolutely not having forgotten about the fact that the last time you had said something to him, you'd flipped him off and told him to go fuck himself.

James was absolutely beaming. "Yeah you do, but no worries, I'll cash it in right away." This was his chance. He would make up for his behavior and act on his feelings right now.

"How about a date?"

There was a long silence. Your heart plummeted to the ground. Right. James. Lily. Lily and James.

"What am I a magician?" You finally managed to sarcastically retort. "I'm a convincing person but not a miracle worker." You pulled your hand through your hair as you looked around the great hall to see if you could spot Lily.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." You forced a smile.

James, who had been mostly confused at your words, disregarded it completely in delight at your acceptance to go out with him, even if it seemed somewhat reluctant. Not that it would matter because he was going to prove what an amazing boyfriend he could be. If you'd accept him, of course.

He was grinning from ear to ear, which you mistook as excitement at the prospect of a potential date with Lily. So when you abruptly turned on your heels and marched over to Lily, James watched you confusedly.

And when he heard you try to talk Lily into going out with him, he wanted to crawl in a ditch and die. He stood there, frozen and recounting how you could've interpreted that wrongly.

You returned to him after a while with an apologetic smile. "Yeah sorry Prongs, she-"

"You", he blurted out.

You raised your eyebrows. "Me?" You repeated back.

"The date, I meant you. A-and me of course. Us, like you and me on a date. Together. I thought maybe Hogsmeade?" He managed to force the words out nervously.

There was a long silence and James' shoulders slumped a little. Even more when you finally answered.

"Uh, no?" You said in a questioning manner. James officially wanted to die now.

"You're sweet James, and I don't think you do it on purpose but you're not interested in me like that." You began, trying to convince not only James, but yourself as well.

James opened his mouth to argue but you quickly interrupted him before he could properly do so.

"James, you really don't. And you asking me out on a date when you've quite literally been drooling over Lily just last week as you have been doing for the past 5 years, that's not very nice to me." You frowned.

"Oh." He whispered. He was once again at a lack of words for a moment. Terrible new habit, he thought. This was not how he thought it would go.

"I'd still gladly go with you to Hogsmeade though?" You offered. "Just you know, not as an easy second choice date while you are obviously head over heels with her."

'I'm not', he wanted to tell you, but it was obvious that you wouldn't believe him. "Yeah okay," he weakly smiled. "Just the two of us though."

You nodded and stepped forward, wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, returning the hug.

With his face pressed in your hair, eyes closed, he decided that this situation wasn't too bad. He's fought for Lily's affection for years. He'd fight harder for yours.

Part two

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #marauders era #marauders #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter fic

[wheresarizona]

Creed

summary: Upon meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and discovering there are other Mandalorians out in the galaxy who remove their helmets, Din Djarin is suddenly questioning his beliefs and unable to stop from wondering what you, his wife, look like under your own helm.

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Din Djarin, established relationship, age gap (10 years), alternating pov, unprotected p in v, creampie, BREEDING KINK, oral sex (f receiving), first kiss, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic fluff, fluff, removing helmets for the first time, religious guilt, did I mention breeding kink? Din being so in love he wants to break the Creed, good parent Din Djarin)

pairing: Din Djarin/f!Mandalorian reader (from the Tribe with zero physical descriptions)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: It’s called Creed, but Breed also works. Lmaooo @what-muses sent in the prompt for Din hearing reader singing to Grogu, and I am so insanely sorry for this not being super wholesome. I just know in my heart Din would hear the woman he loves singing to their kid, and he’d want more children. 😭😭😭 I legit wrote 95% of this while either sick or in the ER to make myself feel better. Takes place during season 2. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing this.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to hear what you thought of it!

Masterlist

He knows his own face—the color of his eyes, the curve of his nose, the crease between his eyebrows, the patchy facial hair. He knows the shape of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, and the lines that show his age. He’s the only person who can take in all of these details and know they belong to him, something secret, sacred—the Way of the Mandalore means no other living being can see him without his helmet. It also means you’ve never seen his face, but that’s never been an issue since you also follow the Creed.

Staring at his reflection in the ‘fresher mirror, his naked body clean from the sonic shower, he slowly moves the razor over the skin of his cheek, wondering briefly what you look like under your purple helm.

Pausing, his eyebrows furrow, realizing the thought has never once crossed his mind—it wasn’t something he ever would have wondered before because it’s never been important. The two of you had your beliefs and followed them, not caring about what was beneath the beskar, all that mattered was you loved each other.

You’ve been together since he’d saved the kid from the Client, you leaving Nevarro with him, your relationship shifting as time went on—the two of you keeping the child safe and falling in love in the process.

Then on your quest to reunite the small boy with his kind, you’d met the other Mandalorians, discovering there were many out across the galaxy who didn’t follow the Creed or the ways of old. They believed you could be a Mandalorian and remove your helmet and that your tribe was a cult.

Continuing shaving, he rinses the razor blade under water before sliding it along his other cheek. A lot of people preferred using depil cream to remove their facial hair, but Din liked the precision of the razor over the viscous liquid.

It was overwhelming hearing all that Bo-Katan had said and having this new knowledge, making him wonder what it truly meant to be a Mandalorian.

Could he really put the helmet back on once he took it off in front of another?

With the location of a Jedi and your time with your foundling running out, it was important he was present to witness your union, both knowing you were going to spend the rest of your days together by each other’s sides. Din and you exchanged your vows, committing to one another for life in the cockpit of the Razor Crest with your child in attendance and the bright streaking stars of hyperspace flying by.

His face is mostly shaved, leaving hair on his chin and above his lips, now using a small pair of scissors to trim his mustache.

It doesn’t matter to him that no one else gets to see how he looks. He’s still particular in how he likes his facial hair, unable to stand too much of it under his helmet, keeping the hair on his head cropped short for comfort.

It makes him wonder if you have preferences as he shapes his mustache.

How long is your hair? What color is it? What color are your eyes? What does your smile look like? What will your children look like?

His hand stops, his eyes widening.

Gulping hard, that’s another thought that’s never crossed his mind. He knows you’re going to have children together. It’s something you’ve discussed, but not once has he thought of their looks. Things like that didn’t matter to Mandalorians, who spend their lives covered head to toe in armor. He wonders if he’d be able to pick out the pieces of you in them to get a glimpse of what the woman he loves looks like—he wants to know.

Why is he stuck on this?

It’s not the Way.

Din sighs, finishing what he’s doing.

The scissors get put back into his shaving kit, cleaning the sink of his hair clippings, happy you got a room at the inn here on Nevarro while the Crest is being repaired. The two of you are planning to help Greef and Cara with a small matter in the morning in exchange for the ship's repairs.

Once he’s done, the stuff shoved into his bag, Din pulls out clean clothes to change into for the night, settling for some cloth pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Putting his helmet on, he gathers his bag and flight suit, the rest of his armor out in the room you’re in with the kid, stacked neatly beside your own.

Greef was the one who provided the accommodations, Din assuming it’d be a basic room—a bed, a refresher, the necessities. That wasn’t good enough for the magistrate, though. Instead, he’d set you up in a one-bedroom suite with a sitting room and a tiny kitchen.

Making his way out of the ‘fresher and bedroom, he stops in his tracks at what he hears.

You’re sitting at the small dining table, the kid in the seat beside you happily accepting the food he’s passed, which was a common occurrence, it’s the song you’re singing that has Din so caught off guard.

He’s heard you hum a lot—tunes were always getting stuck in your head that you picked up in cantinas or buskers on the street. You’ve sung before, too, but you were trying to make him and the kid laugh with your boisterous renditions of Mandalorian drinking songs.

This is different.

It’s not loud—it’s soft, sweet, the Mando’a flowing from your lips like a soft caress, hearing your love for the child with every syllable sung. This is a song mothers sang to their children, having heard such a thing back at the covert, about Mandalore the Great taming his mythical mythosaur and the strength all Mandalorians had.

There’s a helmet on your head, and he can’t help imagining what your face looks like under the t-visor. He can hear your love, would he be able to see it, too? There’s a smile in your voice, and it makes his chest squeeze at how he wishes he could look upon it.

Din knows you, and you know him.

He knows your likes and dislikes, your deepest, darkest secrets—everything about you, Din has learned and loves.

And now he wants more of you to love—he wants all of you, wants to see all of you.

You’re a wonderful mother, the kid so happy with you, taking him in like he’s your own flesh and blood, and something inside Din is screaming that you need more children—he needs to give you that, more little ones to love, and sing to, as many as you want, the thought of you pregnant with his child making his skin heat.

Stars, you’d be even more beautiful round with his baby.

He swallows hard, his pants feeling a little tight.

He knows everything about you, he loves everything about you, and guilt has settled like a stone in his stomach that he suddenly can’t get his mind off what’s under the beskar on your head.

The singing stops when you notice him, your t-visor trained on his prone form, standing just inside the room.

“Hey!” you say, handing the child more food. “It’s dinner time—ordered food while you were in the ‘fresher. Got you something I know you’ll like.”

It takes him from his reverie, finally moving again to set his bag near the table by the couch, the shining pieces of both of your armor on top of it. He tosses his flight suit onto the sofa over his cape, walking over to where you and the kid are.

He’s behind your chair, rubbing his hands over your arms as he replies, “Thank you, my love.” Leaning down to gently knock his helmet against yours in the semblance of a kiss before moving around the table to take a seat.

What would your lips feel like on his?

He has to shake the question from his brain, clearing his throat, and opening the food container in front of him.

It makes him smile when he sees you did get him something he’d like—skewers of meat and vegetables.

Picking one up, he uses the fork beside him to push off the chunks into the container, discarding the skewer and using his free hand to lift his helmet up just enough to take a bite. He groans happily at the spices enveloping his tongue, chewing and swallowing.

“Good?” you ask, beginning to eat your own dinner the same way he was.

In the company of other Mandalorians, it was generally protocol to go off and eat alone, but you’d been traveling in the tight confines of the Crest for so long that barely lifting the helmet was an acceptable compromise, avoiding looking at each other as you did it.

“Really good,” he replies, shoving more into his mouth.

The kid coos contently, full from his meal, while you both enjoy your own, sharing snippets of conversation between bites.

By the time you’re both finished, the little one is falling asleep in his chair, and helmets are once again covering your faces.

“I’ll put him to bed,” you softly say, starting to get up from your chair.

“The couch,” he says a little too quickly.

“The couch?” Your tone is teasing. “Got plans since we have a bed this evening, my dear husband?”

“Maybe I do.”

“In that case, the couch it is,” you reply, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with a pillow and blanket that you put onto the sofa, coming back over to the table to take the child.

Din busies himself cleaning up the trash and finds himself stuck in place when he’s done as he watches you sitting next to the kid, stroking his big ears while softly singing an old lullaby.

That need comes crashing into him again, the one telling him to give you a baby. It’s loud, something primal that he feels deep down that won’t be satisfied until he’s buried himself inside your cunt and pumps you full of his seed.

Arousal is burning in his gut, his cock stirring, eyes locked on your downturned helm and the curve of your breasts under your shirt.

He wants to strip you bare and feel your skin, batting away the intrusive thought of getting your helmet off—his, too, in order to lick and suck what he wants to touch.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realize you’ve gotten up until you’re whispering by the bedroom door, “You coming?”

His bare feet move quickly, following you into the other room. Once the door is shut and the lock engaged, he’s crowding into you, needing to get his hands on your body, rubbing them over your soft belly and up to cup your breasts.

“You’re in a mood,” you giggle, Din’s hands roaming all over your body, your front, back, down to grab your ass.

“Need you,” he grunts.

Sliding your hands down his chest, you move lower to palm his half-hard dick in his pants, feeling it twitch under your touch.

“Yeah, you do.”

His eagerness is turning you on, wishing you could kiss him.

That makes you frown.

Over a year together and never once have you thought of kissing Din or seeing him without his helmet, for that matter, and yet, for days now, these things have been popping up in your brain. Kept you wondering what he looks like, or the face he was making in a moment or how soft his lips were, or the color of his eyes—plagued by thoughts that went against how you were raised and what you believed, clear violations of the Creed you swore to live your life by.

It’s never been an issue, always a fact that the helmet stayed on in front of another, and then you met Bo-Katan, and now you were at constant war with your own mind, feeling like it was an enemy you couldn’t vanquish in battle.

There are other Mandalorians out there, who even wish to reclaim Mandalore, and they believe you can remove your helm in the presence of another—Bo-Katan’s own armor had been passed down for three generations.

What if it was okay to remove it?

Would Din want to?

Would he still love you?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking you from your thoughts.

His hands are now caressing the sides of your helmet, a little intrusive thought in the back of your mind wishing he’d take it off.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff…”

His head tilts in confusion.

“Tell me.”

That’s the thing about Din, he’s your best friend, your husband, you can tell him anything, which is why you tell him the truth.

“Bo-Katan and the others, they are Mandalorians and remove their helmets.”

“Yes, they do not follow the Creed.”

“Do you believe they are Mandalorians?”

“Do you?”

“Bo-Katan was born on Mandalore. She fought in the Great Purge. I do believe they are Mandalorians.”

“As do I.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He nodded.

“Din, we grew up believing in the Way of the Mandalore—it’s all we’ve known. We went through the same ceremony, we swore to walk the Way and never remove our helmets, but I—” Your hands go up to cradle where his cheeks would be “—can’t stop thinking about what you look like, and I feel ashamed because I know it’s wrong.”

“It’s not wrong.” He sounds hopeful. “I feel the same and want to see your face, too.”

That has you taken aback.

“You do…?”

“I do.” He nods.

“But will you still love me…?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“Of course. I love you for you and not for what’s underneath the beskar.”

“That’s a lie. You’re obsessed with my body.”

He chuckles, “I am because I love you and would continue loving you even if it changed…” he trails off like he’s thinking about something “I. Love. You.” he adds, saying each word clearly.

“Promise?”

Pressing a hand over his heart, he answers, “On my life.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“Will you still love me…?” The question comes out slowly.

“We literally just had a conversation over how you love me for me, and you have to know I feel the same way.”

“Just making sure.” You can hear his smile.

“So, would you like to break the Creed with me…?”

Your heart is hammering in your chest.

“More than you know.”

Relief washes over you, combined with giddiness.

“Thank the Stars!” you exclaim happily.

“At the same time?” He’s as eager as you are, his hands moving back to hold your helmet again.

“Yes.”

Gripping his, you both count down together, “Three, two, one…” Carefully, you lift his beskar, your own coming off, blinking at the light in the room, and your eyes zeroing in on the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, your mouth falling open in shock.

A person’s looks have never meant much to you, thinking some were pleasing to the eye, you finding someone’s prowess in battle more attractive along with their personality.

Din is a formidable opponent, always succeeding in his endeavors because he is highly intelligent, strong, and knows how to fight and use a weapon.

Even though many fear your husband, he’s actually a very sweet man, caring, loving, and will protect you and your foundling with his life.

And now you know he is also unbelievably attractive.

Beautiful chocolate eyes are rounded as they stare at you, the look on his face a twin of your own, loving his nose, and the messy brown hair on top of his head, seeing that he recently shaved with his facial hair looking neat, taking in every detail and line of the man you love.

“Beautiful,” he whispers in awe, and it has tears brimming in your eyes, bending down to set his helmet on the ground, him doing the same with yours, your hands moving to touch his face when you both straighten.

He’s so gentle when his broad palms caress your cheeks, almost like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Smiling, you reply, “You’re very handsome yourself.” You reach up to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows. “Your eyes are stunning. I hope our child gets them.”

His lips tip up, and Stars, they’re so plush, you can’t help yourself when you lean in to press your own against his, him making a surprised sound.

Your heart picks up in speed, having wondered what it would be like to kiss him, and at first, it’s soft; the warmth spreading under your skin, meaning to only give him a peck, but then he’s pulling you closer, kissing you a little harder. It’s lingering, his lips moving against yours in tiny movements that have fire burning brightly in your veins, following his lead to mimic what he was doing again and again and again.

It’s not like either of you has any experience with this type of thing, so you’re figuring it out as you go, doing what feels good, getting braver and more comfortable. Your fingers slide into the thick strands of his hair, moaning when his tongue slides over your bottom lip, instinctively opening for him. This was somehow better, more intimate, tasting each other, exploring the other’s mouths until the need to breathe became too much, and you’re separating with smiles on your faces, Din’s lips red and shiny from spit.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and it makes you feel all gooey.

“You’re very handsome.”

You stroke your fingers over his cheeks, his hands on your jaw, rubbing a thumb over your wet bottom lip.

It’s like you both can’t stop yourselves from staring, eyes taking in every little detail of the other's face, saving them to memory.

The need rises, and you’re kissing once more, it’s messy before you’re both moving to get your clothes off as quickly as possible—once stripped, Din’s mouth is on yours as he walks you back toward the bed, falling with you on top of it.

His hips are slotted between your thighs, his lips detaching from yours to kiss along your jaw, over your cheeks, up on your forehead, and the tip of your nose.

It makes you smile, him kissing all over your face, then to your ear, shoving his nose in your hair, and inhaling.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he says.

That makes you laugh.

“Thanks, but we use the same stuff—we smell the same.”

“No.” He nips at your ear, sucking it into his mouth, gasping at the jolts of pleasure shooting to your center. “You smell better.”

You press your fingers into his hair.

“Stars,” you moan, his lips trailing down your neck and sucking hard on your pulse point. “It feels so good, Din.”

His mouth is so warm, leaving your skin wet in the wake of his kisses, and he can’t seem to get enough, lips streaking across every bit of you as he travels down your body. His mouth engulfs your stiff nipple, making your back arch, gasping his name.

Arousal is hot in your belly, the feeling incredible as he laves at one hard bud, then the other, your head feeling dizzy while soft sounds spill from your lips.

He comes off your nipple with a pop, continuing his journey lower, kissing over your belly until he’s half off the bed, his big hands spreading your thighs.

There’s a look of hunger on his face as he stares at the apex of your thighs, his fingers moving to spread open the lips of your sex, seeing the pink of his tongue peek out to swipe across his bottom lip like he wants to taste you. The look has excitement thrumming in your veins, wanting nothing more than to know what it feels like to have his mouth on you.

“Taste it,” you purr, and his eyes meet yours, his so dark barely any of the beautiful brown remains. “I know you’ve licked me from your fingers.” You’ve seen him on more than one occasion lift his helmet just enough to suck your arousal from digits after they’d been inside you. “Taste it—I want your tongue.” You bit your lip between your teeth.

“Fuck,” he rasps, wasting no time dipping his head forward, licking a stripe through your slit, the flat of his tongue going from your entrance to your clit. He’s groaning into your sensitive flesh as you moan at how good it feels, him laving at every bit of slick he can find, your back arching when he pushes the wet muscle inside you.

“You taste so good.” His words are muffled in your cunt, his mouth moving up, making your toes curl when he sucks on your bundle of nerves.

Even though this isn’t an act either of you has ever done before, Din is a quick learner, knowing intimately what makes you tick—once he has his fill of your taste, he slides two thick fingers inside you, crooking them into that spot he always zeros in on, your vision going white for a second at the shock of pleasure.

“Din,” you moan, threading your fingers into his brown waves for something to hold onto.

The muscles in your belly are beginning to tighten, the heat in the base of your spine growing.

His big brown eyes lock on yours from between your legs, seeing your arousal glistening in his mustache and on his plush lips.

“Wanna taste your come,” he husks, his fingers continuing to work. “Can you come for me? Please?”

This might be his first time, but that big brain of his has quickly worked out how to get what he wants, keeping his gaze on yours while pulling your perky little clit into his mouth, sucking on it while his fingers slide along something divine, rocketing you toward your release.

Your hands tighten in his hair at the pleasurable fire building in your core, feeling it getting hotter and hotter as he works you over, having to bite your fingers to muffle your noises when euphoria explodes inside you, quieting your whine of his name.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he says into your pussy. “My good girl—such a good girl.”

His fingers leave you, replaced with his tongue, hearing and feeling him loudly groan as he indulges in your come, drinking it down from the source.

Your chest is heaving, breathing hard as you come down, your husband having the best time with his mouth on your cunt if the noises are anything to go by.

He got to explore your body, and it’s your turn, salivating at the thought.

Tugging on his hair, you say, “Din?”

His head comes up, looking a little lost with glazed-over eyes, the bottom half of his face shining in the light of the room.

All he can do is grunt in response.

“Get up on the bed and lay down on your back, please.”

His face pinches in confusion.

“What?” he whispers.

You smile. He seems almost drunk, a state you’ve never seen him in since he doesn’t like anything inhibiting his mind or body.

“Get up here, my love—” You pat the bed beside you. “—and lay down on your back. It’s my turn.”

It registers what you say, and he nods, doing as he’s told and crawling up onto the mattress and flopping down next to you with his head resting back on a pillow. Rolling over, you throw your leg over his waist, moving to straddle his hips, your wet center pressing his hard cock into his stomach. You rub your hands up his soft belly and over his chest, seeing the faded scars on his golden skin.

“You’re beautiful,” you say.

His cheeks pink at the comment.

“Thank… you…” he replies, his hands grabbing your waist, smoothing his thumbs over your skin. “You’re more beautiful than the Diathim.”

Your eyebrow raises. “You’re saying I’m prettier than an angel?”

“Songs should be sung of your beauty—there’s nothing that compares in the entire galaxy.” He says it with such conviction your breath hitches, taken aback by the look on his face telling you he means it.

“We should get married,” you blurt out.

“What…?”

“I want to marry you again and see your face when we say our vows.”

You’re fascinated by how you can see him visibly soften, his mouth turning up in a grin that reveals an adorable dimple, reaching his hand to cup your cheek.

“Will you marry me again?” he asks.

You’re matching his look, nodding as you say, “Yes!” Unable to keep yourself from leaning down to press your mouth to his, moaning when you taste yourself in the passionate kiss. His arms wrap around your back, hugging you close to him, losing yourselves for a minute in your happiness.

You’re panting when you break apart.

You’d wanted to take your time getting your mouth all over his body, but there’s a sudden need to have him inside of you—sitting up on your knees, you snake your hand between your bodies to take his cock in hand, pressing it to your aching entrance.

You moan in unison as you lower yourself on him, watching his face as his mouth falls open, his hands grabbing onto your hips, the thick girth of him stretching you open and filling you inch by glorious inch until your thighs meet, feeling so unbelievably full.

“Stars, you feel so good,” you breathe.

“Not as good as you feel.” His words come out strained, watching his throat work as he swallows hard.

You do an experimental roll of your hips, making his fingers tighten in your skin.

His eyes are on yours. “I want to see you come while I’m inside you,” he husks. “Can you do that? Can you use me to make yourself feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer, starting to move up and down, your hands on his chest for leverage.

You love having him inside you—the way he fits so perfectly, rubbing against all the right spots, joining you together.

His hands are on your body while you ride him, rubbing along your ribs and over your stomach, moving up to palm the weight of your breasts, tweaking your nipples, sending jolts straight to your pussy.

“Ride my cock, pretty girl,” Din says in a low rasp. “I love watching you—so beautiful. Use me.”

Adjusting your hips has him sliding into that sacred place that makes your head spin, rising and falling at a pace that’s slowly building you up and up.

Arousal is dripping out of you and down his shaft, allowing you to move with ease, Din’s eyes locked on your face, groans spilling from his throat, looking wrecked at you bouncing on him.

His cock is hot and hard inside you, lifting your hips and slamming your ass down, working yourself closer to your end.

It’s exhilarating to be able to see how good he feels and how much he’s enjoying himself. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes lust-blown, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“I know you’re almost there.” His words come out rough. “You gonna come for me? Gonna be my good girl? I know you can do it. Wanna watch you—wanna see you come, my love.”

“So close,” you pant.

You’re rising and falling, moans slipping from your lips, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter until it’s snapping, and you’re coming with a gasp of his name. Your eyes close as pleasure expands from your center, spreading through your body.

“So beautiful,” Din marvels in a groan. “Such a good girl. I love you—I love watching you.”

“I love you, too,” you breathe, your orgasm beginning to ebb.

A surprised sound comes from you when suddenly you’re jostled, Din groaning as he sits up, keeping you on him as he gets situated with you in his lap, spreading his legs on the bed for balance.

You’re now face to face, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his lips find yours, kissing you tenderly, his other arm wrapped around your back to hug you to him. You thread your fingers in his hair, melting into him, accepting his tongue when he deepens the kiss.

You’ve found you love kissing. There was something about it that was so intimate—sharing breaths, being so close, and tasting him.

His hair is so soft and thick, scratching your nails gently along his scalp and feeling him shiver beneath you.

His hands go to your ass, gripping it tight while he starts moving you in his lap, his lips still on yours.

“Want you close,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Need you close.”

You bounce up and down on his throbbing cock, your knees on either side of his hips helping you rise and fall, fucking yourself on him as you keep kissing.

His words are muffled against your lips, “You’re so beautiful, strong, fierce, loving, and good with the kid.” He moves you faster, using his strength to lift you, grunting in exertion. “I watched you tonight with him—I want more little ones.”

The thought makes you clench around him.

“Din,” you moan, feeling him smile.

“I want to raise more warriors with you,” he continues. “I want to father your children. I want to fuck a baby into you,” he groans, his cock twitching. You can tell he’s getting close as you breathe hard, your thighs burning deliciously. “I want to fill you up, fuck you full of me over and over until it takes.” His words have arousal curling in your gut and the familiar heat building at the base of your spine, bouncing up and down in his lap. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to have as many as you’ll allow. I want to fill the ship, then a house with our kids. I want to see you mother more of my children and sing them the songs of old. I want you, all of you.”

It all sounds so good, wanting the same, gasping, “Yes.”

“Can I?” he asks in a wrecked tone. “Can I fuck a baby into you? Can I get you pregnant? Please. Please, can I father your child?”

“Stars, yes,” you moan. “Please. I want one. Fill me up—keep me full.”

He groans loudly, kissing you hard, making you gasp in surprise when he tackles you onto your back on the mattress, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, holding himself up on his forearms beside your head.

He starts moving fast, fucking into you with abandon to chase his high. The wet slap of skin on skin is sounding in the room, along with his grunts muffled by your mouth, filling you over and over, his thick cock pushing in so deep he’s kissing your womb.

You grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to hang onto, digging your nails into his golden skin. The kisses are sloppy, the tension rising in your belly. His pace gets uneven until he pushes in one last time, going as deep as he can, coming with a ragged groan. You can feel him jerk inside you and the wet pulse as warmth fills your depths. He rocks his hips, moving a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, already so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you cresting softly with a moan of his name. Your body tenses up, Din grunting as your cunt chokes his dick, working his spend even deeper inside you.

“That’s it,” he groans. “So good to me, my good girl.”

You’re both panting, and he moves his head to the crook of your neck, collapsing on top of you.

It makes you smile when you press your fingers into his sweat-damp hair; how soothing it is to just run your fingers through the brown waves and lightly scratch at his scalp, Din practically purring.

“That’s so nice.” He slurs.

“I like It, too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s comfortable as you both lie there, not caring about your sweaty bodies or his weight on you, just basking in the afterglow together.

It feels like you’re so close, neither of you would know where one ends and the other begins—so tangled up in each other it feels as though you’re one—one body, one heart, one soul.

Minutes pass in silence, Din groaning as he moves to get up, kneeling between your spread legs. His eyes are locked on where you’re connected, hissing when he pulls himself out of you. Your eyes widen when his fingers catch some of his come that’s dripped out of you, moaning when he pushes it back inside.

“Don’t want to waste a drop,” he says. “Can you keep it inside, my love?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

He smiles.

“Thank you.”

His hand leaves you watching in interest as he pushes the digits between his lips, sucking them clean with a groan. They leave his mouth with a pop, his gaze on yours.

“I’ll never tire of how good you taste.” He says.

“I feel like you’re going to be insatiable.” You tease.

He smiles, and you love it so much that you wish to see it every day for the rest of your life.

“I’m already insatiable.”

“Yes, you are.” You reply with the same look on your face.

Quickly he’s off the bed and coming back with a warm wet cloth, gently wiping you down and cleaning himself up, it getting tossed to the floor when he’s done.

He pulls you to lay correctly on the bed in his arms with your heads cushioned by pillows, facing him.

The lights are still on, and you just stare into each other's eyes, losing yourself in his dark pools, him smiling softly under his mustache.

“I’m so happy to know your face,” he whispers, his big hand sliding along your cheek. “I love you.”

“I’m happy to know your face, too,” you say just as softly. “The face of the man I love, who will father my children.”

He smiles brightly, his eyes crinkling adorably at the edges, leaning in to kiss you.

There’s light banging heard at the door that can only be made by tiny fists, Din and you separating immediately with wide eyes.

“Were we too loud?” You whisper.

Din grimaces, answering, “Maybe?”

You’re both moving immediately, jumping out of bed and tugging on your clothes, the air in the room tinged with sex. At least the kid chose to wake up after you’d finished. It was always incredibly awkward when he interrupted during.

The two of you look disheveled, Din’s hair a mess on top of his head, and his cheeks tinted pink.

“Go wash your hands and face,” you tell him. “I’ll get him.” Neither of you bothered putting on your helmets, your husband heading for the en suite, while you made it to the door, disengaging the lock and opening it.

You’re smiling as you look down at the child, him staring up at you with a weird look on his face.

“Hey, buddy,” you say, and his eyes get big, him babbling something pointing at your head. It makes you laugh. “It’s okay,” you reassure, leaning down to pick him up. He’s staring at you, his big eyes somehow bigger. “This is what I look like under the helmet.” His little clawed hand reaches out, pressing it to your cheek as he coos, and it warms your heart.

“Hey, you little womp rat,” Din’s warm voice says as he enters the room, you turning so the kid can see him. The child is babbling up a storm, holding his arms out, and Din chuckles, taking him as soon as he’s within reach. “Did we wake you up?” he asks. “We were just, uh, sparring, yeah, we were sparring, there’s nothing you need to worry about.” The kid is looking at him in wonder, reaching to touch Din’s cheek, the man smiling. “Yeah, I’m not wearing my helmet.” The child looks at you and back at Din, chattering up a storm.

“I think he’s confused.” You tell your husband.

“Yeah, I think he is.” His attention goes back to the kid in his arms, rubbing his back, speaking in a soft tone, “Hey, it’s okay, buddy.” The child goes silent as he listens. “There, uh, were those other Mandalorians who took off their helmets, and we decided to do the same. Everything’s okay. It’s still us.” He’s cooing again, patting Din’s cheek, making his dad chuckle. “It’s my face.” The kid yawns. “You ready to go back to bed?”

You’re already moving toward the mattress, taking off the top blanket, tossing it onto the floor, and pulling back the sheets.

Din walks over and gets in on the other side while still holding the child.

The boy ends up on Din’s chest, his tiny hand reaching up to rub the man’s earlobe while softly babbling—you crawl in next to your husband, resting your head on his shoulder, the lights turned off.

You’re beyond happy to know what the man you love looks like, and you can’t wait to add to your little family, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Your period is almost a month late, and you have a feeling it has nothing to do with stress.

Din was going to be ecstatic.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

Tagging: @theorganasolo @tiredbuthappy @mandowhatnow @myloveistoolittle @perksofbeingamultifandomm @eddiemunscns @deliriousfangirl61 @fandomandotherthings @myswficlist @aaetherr69 @swimmjacket @ins0mniac-whack @rintheemolion @notsosecretspy @ghostyoongs @freightcarcap @untitledarea @whitemanshoe19 @tmiranda94 @fleetsonfire @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @star017 @artsymaddie @hansolosleftbuttcheek @deadhumourist @pretty-brown-eyess @hotchlover @eternallyvenus @allfoolsinluv @eppy816 @katareyoudrilling @babykangaemoji @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp @grimeysociety @bruxasolta @peachyaeger @din-jarhead @lovesbiggerthanpride

#pedro pascal #Din djarin #Din djarin/reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin fanfiction #wheresarizona writes

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine fitting in with Shanks's family

I had no idea what I should do for the title, sorry if it sucks.

Buggy: I don't know why I bother coming to these things, no one ever pays enough attention to me except Shanks.

Shanks: That's because we're brothers, and I love you man. *Goes in for a hug*

Buggy: *slaps a hand on the red head's face and pushes him away* We're not even related you ding-dong, and I certainly don't love you.

Rayleigh: *glares at the clown* Family isn't always blood, boy.

Buggy: ugh fine *lets Shanks hug him*

Shanks: *nuzzles his face against Buggy*

Buggy: Stop that, I already got an exfoliation treatment at the spa. I don't need any more from your patchy ass beard, ya big lummox!

Shanks: at least I can grow facial hair!

Buggy: I can grow facial hair!

You: Oh please, I'm hairier than you, you over-grown twink.

Shanks: But not me! Look it *rips open his shirt to display his chest hair sending buttons flying everywhere*

You: I'm not sewing those buttons back on

Buggy: Who's this lovely creature?

Shanks: This is my partner

You: Howdy.

Buggy: You poor thing

You: It's not so bad with Benn around.

Benn: yeah, without me, they woulda left him ages ago.

Shanks: truly?

You: of course not

Shanks: *kisses you before turning to Rayleigh*

You: *nods and rolls your eyes at Buggy*

That night after dinner

Shanks: *climbing a try while drunk off his ass*

Benn: *trying to coax him down*

You: *looks up at Rayleigh* he used to bite people as a child, didn't he?

Rayleigh and Buggy: *laughing so hard they cannot stand up straight*

Shakky: *snorts in amusement*

Shanks: *suspicious* what'shl going on?

Rayleigh: he did! He did bite people as a child!

Buggy: look look, *lifts his shirt up and points at crescent shaped scar on his hip* He bit me here when we were seven, because I ate the last chocolate bar on the ship, and we were a week away from any port.

Shanks: I still stand by that decision, you knew better.

Shakky: As did you, when you bit him. I'm still mad at you because he ruined a perfectly good table cloth when I was stitching him up

Shanks: I'll get you a new table cloth.

Shakky: no, thanks, I'd rather hold it over your head for the rest of your life.

Shanks: don't you mean the rest of your life?

You: honey, please, she'll out live all of us, especially you.

Shanks: you're supposed to be on my side.

You: I'd be on your side if you weren't wrong.

List of Up-and-coming works

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#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #akagami no shanks #red hair shanks #red haired shanks #shanks x reader #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #silvers rayleigh #shakky #benn beckman #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #9/11/23 #no beta we die like men

[alcorian]

this wasnt asked for but ive been thinking about werewolves.

ive been thinking about self-love.

ive been thinking about transformations into a True Self that is Hated. about how a body that fits over our souls better might be seen as an ugly monster. 

im trans, could you tell?

even when i was very very little, and imagined becoming a mermaid or growing wings, i immediately remembered how others would see me: a freak, an oddity, a concern. how are you this? why are you this? why did you change? go back to normal. it scared me and made me sick to think about it. but i always dreamed of flying anyways.

nowadays, im scared to transition. my family sees me as a girl who thinks shes a boy. theyre ok with that. im sure they wont be ok with hormones and surgery--things i've craved for years. i'll grow facial hair and i'll love it--rub and feel it, be proud of it, and shave it if i want to. just having the option feels right. a little stubble feels right. but my family will look and see their little girl growing a beard and feel disgusted. my friends will look and see me becoming an ugly "monster."

they hate my wings. they make me hate my wings.

last night i dreamed i was growing facial hair. it was patchy and weird like teenage facial hair generally is. but i liked where it was going.

today, awake, i thought about growing a beard while my mom was nearby, and i felt sick with her eyes on me.

i dont want to be trans, observed. i know how society feels about people like me.

what if the werewolf WANTS to be a wolf? what if they feel better that way? more them? more truthful? should they go back to being human to make you feel better? do you wish theyd stop being so ugly and wrong? do you wish they werent a monster?

#old post i wrote a while ago #finally sharing for tdov #transgender #werewolves #mythology #alv posts

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Helloooooo friend ❤️

For your 500 celebration, I am requesting a non vampire monster fucking fic with any Pedro Boy of your choosing 🙏🏼

(maybe something w tentacles maybe? not required tho whatever you want man love you)

General Warnings: 18+, as is the whole of my blog, I will mark anything specific but be aware this is predominantly a smutty blog with plot. DNI if you are a minor. By reading further you have taken the responsibility to do so with the warnings I have given.

Specific Warnings: Dubcon/noncon, phereomones, tentacles, bondage, mind-fuck, alien sex, alient tentacles, Mind break (if you squint), unprotectred PiV (WRAP IT UP) , anal, DP, sex talk. Let me know if I missed anything!

Taungsdays, am I right?

“Cyar’ika.” A far away voice calls to you but you can’t seem to make it out, the word means something to you. It’s a precious word, but you just don’t remember why.

“Cyar’ika, please. Wake up.” The voice is clearer now, you know it, but it’s weird, not quite right. It’s clearer than you’ve ever heard it, but who? Whose voice is that calling so sweetly to you in the darkness?

Then you hear your name, crystal clear, uninhibited by a modulator, and you squeeze your eyes closed. It’s Din, your Din, your Riduur. But something is wrong, his helmet is off.

“Din?” You try, but your voice comes out in a rasp as you realise how dry your mouth is.

“Praise the Maker, you’re alive.” Din’s unmodulated voice sounds strained, like he’s in pain. You try and move your limbs but you can’t. Panic sets in and you whimper as you keep your eyes shut, you will not breach Din’s creed, not for something as trivial as fear.

Feel for him, feel his energy.

You think to yourself, meditating on the thought, of the essence of your beloved. He’s close, so close, yet there is something else, something writhing in the space between you. You flex your fingers, opening and closing them rhythmically as you try and get some blood flowing through your body. You’re restrained by your ankles and wrists, suspended somehow.

“Din, what’s going on? Where’s your helmet?”

“It was taken, Cyar’ika, look at me.” Din cries out in pain, and the terror that grips your heart forces your eyes open. Your heart catches in your throat as you see him, naked, strung up by maroon vines. They writhe and squirm over his body, coiled around his neck, sliding over his tan skin. You look down to see his cock, erect and weeping as a thick vine slides over his tip, pulling his foreskin back. Din grunts, his beautiful face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and anger.

You feel anguish and hatred deep in your core as you realise you’ve just seen his face for the first time, and dank farrik is he beautiful. The facial hair you had only ever felt in the dark confines of his cot is patchy, but well kept, a strong moustache framing his top lip. His angular nose hooking slightly, and you remember how it feels to have it pressed into your hair as he wraps himself around you.

“Din.” You sob, tears streaming down your face as you meet his sorrowful eyes; deep dark pools of liquid caf, an apology written across them as his grief mirrors your own. This was not how this moment was supposed to play out, you were waiting for the right time. But it’s all wrong, ruined. A precious memory taken from you before it had chance to bloom.

“It’s ok Mesh’la, it’s not your fault.” His tone is soft, none of his usual curt, practiced stoicism. It’s the voice he uses when he makes love to you in the pitch black in his bed. The one for when your bodies wound so tightly it’s hard to know where you stop and he begins.

“What’s happening?” You ask as you look down to see yourself similarly restrained, the thick maroon vines tight around your wrists and ankles. You realise that you were wrong before in your assessment, they aren’t vines, they’re tentacles. They throb occasionally and you feel bile rising in your throat at the idea of being so vulnerable hits you.

“We’ve been ensnared by something, took us both by surprise. It’s been, ah, touching me since I woke a short while ago.”

As if on cue, the tentacles restraining you slither across your skin, hot and wet it almost feels good but you force the intrusive thought out of your mind. A long, bulbous-headed tentacle winds into view and you hear Din shout something but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears. The tentacle peels open like a grotesque flower and a puff of silver powder spits into your face.

You splutter as the powder coats your skin, flows through your sinuses and sticks to your windpipe. It’s like being suffocated, the taste of bitter fruit and the smell of Spice drowning you as the tentacle recedes.

“What was that?”

“My guess? An aphrodisiac, they dosed me earlier and I’ve been stiffer than Beskar since.”

“Kriff, what are these things?”

You feel a stir of arousal wash through you and as a pair of tentacles snake up to your breasts, you want to feel disgusted, angry even. But the moment they curl around your stiff, pebbled nipples you cry out in pleasure.

“Din, I’m sorry.” You whimper as the slick, hot, swirling sensation reminds you of Din’s lips. It makes you imagine him on top of you, kneeling between your spread thighs in the dark, worshiping your body with his mouth and hands.

“It’s ok Cyar’ika, I feel it too.” Din’s voice is thick with strain as you watch a pair of tentacles work over Din’s thick length, another rolling over his tight balls. You’re jealous, jealous that it’s not you making him writhe against his restraints.

“Thinking of you, of us.”

“Let’s work through this together, talk to me Cyar’ika, let me know what you’re thinking about.”

“Thinking about how your mouth feels on my breasts, when you take my nipple in your mouth and suck, just right, like that.” You mewl as the tentacle seems to react to your words. It hardens and pinches at your stiff peak and you cry out, mouth agape as you feel slick drip down your legs.

“Yeah? Good, I’m thinking about that smart little mouth of yours, sucking my cock, cradling my balls, fuck, yes,” He groans your name and you whine at the sensation of a tentacle sliding between your legs. The length of it sliding through your slick folds as you twitch at the way it prods at your clit.

“Din, wish I could kiss you.”

“Me too Cyare, me too, just want to feel you, the real you.”

Then something changes in the atmosphere, a vibration ripples through your mind and you feel something sentient brush against your consciousness. You meet Din’s gaze and judging by the look on his face, he felt it too.

“Wait, these tentacles, I’ve seen something like this before.” You think aloud as you try and wrack your brain for information.

Before you can formulate a thought you feel another thrum of energy ripple through the air and the tentacles restraining you loosen and flex, bringing you together before letting go completely. You sob and fall into Din’s strong arms, he pulls you against him with a soft huff. His scent envelops you as your bodies press together desperately.

You feel a tentacle press against the base of your skull before a sharp pinprick of pain on your hairline. Suddenly a consciousness bleeds into your own and you see through the eyes of the creature, watching you and Din embrace, both with tentacles hinged to your spines.

“Din?”

“I’m here, I see it too.”

There’s a feeling ebbing and flowing through your minds, you can hear Din’s thoughts and you feel heat warm your cheeks as you feel like you’re intruding. Then you feel it, his consciousness poking back at yours, asking for entry, and you realise Din must have let you in. Your shame doused, you feel something stir deep in your chest.

You submit to his request and it’s like cold fire burning behind your eyelids, licking at your mind but not burning.

Then you both feel it, the pulsating intent of the creature as it gazes upon you and you think you finally understand what is happening.

“It’s a Marian,” You say without speaking, your thoughts bleeding across the psychic barrier between you, “Sometimes called a Bors.”

“They don’t usually uh, accost people like this though, right?”

“No, this is something strange, and I didn’t think Marian’s existed outside their home world.” Your mind wanders through the soup of three shared minds, wading through the freedom of being joined in such an intimate manner.

“Are you getting the same feeling I am?” Din asks as you absently leave open mouthed kisses against his chest, hands snaking up to dig your nails into the firm muscles of his back.

“It wants to fuck us, but wants us to fuck?”

“Mhm, you want that Cyare? Because I’m happy to go along with it if you are.”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice Din.” You huff as Din grinds his hips against you, his hard dick pressed into your stomach.

“No, but I’d much rather this be my choice, our choice, wouldn’t you?” He tilts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger. Your chest flutters with emotion as you let yourself gaze upon his face once again. This time there is no tug of shame, no sorrow. There is only joy, euphoria as you watch his cheeks dimple as he smiles down at you.

“Yes, I would, kiss me.” You reach up to cup din’s face with your hands, pulling him down into you as your lips fuse together.

Your mouth opens without prompt as you let him claim your mouth, his tongue hot and heavy as he licks into you. It’s as if you’d never kissed before, every synapse firing at full yolk as you groan into his mouth.

Din hoists you up like you’re featherlight and you wrap your legs around his waist as you thread your fingers through his hair. You tug lightly, causing Din to growl into your open mouth before nipping at your bottom lip. You yelp in pleasure laced with pain as he drops to his knees on the soft jungle floor, laying you down as he settles between your legs.

Tentacles wind around you both and you watch as they latch onto your nipples, curling around the stiff peaks as they pull and tug against them. You watch as a tentacle slides over Din’s body, nestling between his firm, pert ass cheeks. He shudders as the hot, sticky wetness teasing his tight asshole.

“This is new.” He grunts as he lines up at your core as you keep your hands on his face, savouring every moment of his exposed face.

“If you like it, we can try it out ourselves.” You wink at him as you feel a tentacle swirling around your own ass. Din has fucked your ass before so this wasn’t as daunting for you. You feel it breach your hole and you groan as Din follows suit, his cock stretching you out as you let out a strangled moan. You’re so full and you feel Din shake as he tenses up.

“Hey, Din, you’ve gotta relax,” You croon as you pull him down, your foreheads pressed together, you press a soft his to his lips as you rub your thumbs across his cheeks, “Focus on me, let go, fuck me baby, it’s alright.”

“Cyare, I’m sorry I can’t hold back.”

“It’s ok, use me, fill me up and make me scream Din.” You beg, already feeling your mind fogging over with bliss as you’re filled up and a tentacle comes to toy with your clit, the suction blinding as you pull Din down to kiss you as he lets out an animalistic snarl; his teeth clashing with yours as he fucks down into you with a fervour saved for nights where you’re blindfolded and bound to the side of the cargo hold, completely at his mercy.

“I love you Din, love it when you let go like this.” You breathe as you pull away, watching as his pupils dilate, his mouth open and hot breath fanning across your cheeks.

“Kar'taylir darasuum, Cyare.” He grunts as his face drops to your neck, his strong arms pushing your legs up against your chest. His broad palms anchored on the backs of your knees as he fucks deeper inside you. You cry out as the tentacle in your ass matches his pace. His teeth graze your skin before sucking against your sweat-soaked skin.

“Fuck it’s so deep.” Din grunts as his grip tightens on your legs, fucking harder and faster as you watch the tentacle inside him pulse and move in sync with all of your bodies. It’s all consuming, your mind and body unable to parse anything but the feeling of you all entwined.

“Din,” You whimper as your body trembles violently, “Going to come.”

“Come for me Cyare, let me feel you choke my cock.” He grunts, as you feel his hips stuttering as he nears his own release.

The pressure on your clit doubles and you are left mouth agape as your nipples are twisted and lapped at and the tentacle in your ass ripples rhythmically. You lace your hands through Din’s hair once more as you press your forehead to his, your mind going blank as you feel yourself coming hard around Din’s cock.

“Din.” You practically scream as he comes inside your pussy, the tentacle spurts into your ass, and you feel Din shudder as you know his ass is now filled with Mairan come much like your own. Din flops down on top of you, practically crushing you as you wrap yourself around him with all of your limbs.

The tentacles recede into the rainforest around you and the sound of nocturnal birds and insects chorus around you as the ethereal silence is broken.

“Are you ok?” Din breathes into your neck as you both pant heavily.

“Surprisingly, yeah, that was, something else.” You giggle and trace shapes over his bare back.

“That’s one way to put it.” He chuckles into your ear as he nips your lobe tenderly.

That’s when the fatigue hits you, Din falls forwards abruptly, forcing the air out of your lungs but before you can fight back you’re out cold.

----

The sound of the air recyclers wakes you slowly, a familiar, mundane sound that you usually tune out. You jolt upright and assess your surroundings, you’re back on the Gauntlet, in the co-pilot’s chair. You’re fully clothed and you look over to see Din, fully clad in Beskar, seemingly still asleep. You look out of the Transparisteel cockpit to see the rainforest outside, exactly where you had landed before you got ambushed.

Din wakes with a jolt and immediately springs to his feet, drawing his blaster in a swift motion as his visor scours his surroundings before landing firmly on you.

“Din?”

“Cyare?”

You throw yourself against his Beskar breastplate, ignoring the sting of the harsh metal on your skin. Din wraps his arms around you in a crushing embrace but you don’t care. All you care about is that you were together.

“So that wasn’t just a dream then?” Din’s modulated voice is a strange comfort after the events of your tentacle encounter.

“No, are you ok?” You ask, not daring to pull away from Din, you can’t bear being parted for him for even a minute.

“Yeah, was actually pretty liberating,” He chuckles as he rests the chin of his helmet on your head, “What about you?”

“I’m strangely ok, for unintended sexual encounters that was the best of them.”

“And ours isn’t the top of that list?”

“Din, you may have been oblivious to my very obvious advances on you, but I definitely intended to fuck you that night on Corellia.”

“Good point.” Din admits with a hum that rumbles though your chest.

There’s a comfortable silence for some time, the two of you swaying to a silent melody as the light bleeds through the night sky. There’s something unspoken, a deeper connection left as a remnant of the psychic connection with the Mairan which excites you and makes your chest flutter.

“So, that offer, about trying the uh, butt stuff, ourselves, is that still on the table?” Din asks as he lets out a nervous laugh. You lean back, only enough to look up into his visor, pinning his body to yours as you try to discern if he was joking or not.

“I meant what I said.”

“Good, I’ll hold you to that.” Din lets out a soft huff of air as he pulls you back against him. The Beskar is now warm from your body heat and you lean into it.

“But din?”

“Hmm?”

“We need to get some lube.”

He growls affectionately and hoists you over his shoulder before heading towards the crew quarters. You kick and scream with abandon as you feign a struggle against his firm grip.

You smile to yourself as you try and process the bizarre turn of events.

Taungsdays, am I right?

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! @wannab-urs @beefrobeefcal @proxima-writes @beskarandblasters @blackfemalenerd

#tentacle #tentacles #tentacle monster #monsterfucker #monster #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #mando #dark!fic #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #sex pollen #the mandalorian #mind break #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fic #smut #mindflayer #mind flayer #tw: tentacles #tw:bondage #alien #alien sex fiend #500 followers #500 follower celebration

[deerspherestudios]

Hi! I played your game and really, really like it, I am a huge fan of slow burn - combined with Yandere too? That's kinda rare nowadays, haha. Thanks for making it and creating Mychael, I love his design. Two questions: How many days are planned to be playable in the full release?

And

Since in just one day Mychael feels very friendly towards us (according to a post you made with where his feelings are based on a meter) does that mean he's very clingy??? Like, in just one day he feels like our friend. What little effort and words will it take for him to go from crush, to love, to whatever yandere thing he might be??? Like, is he okay??? Should I be worried???

This guy? Clingy? Nahhh. Nothing to worry about, anon :-) 🍄❤️

As for the game, long (!!!) answer below cut: might be spoiler-y might be not.

For context, here's the post mentioned above.

I'm still not sure how many days it will be, but it's definitely ranging between 4-5 days. Granted it'll be a while before the game is finished finished but I think progress will pick up as I complete assets that will be reused. I'm writing Days 2, 3 and 4 simultaneously (anyone who writes can probably relate to wanting a specific thing to happen in the story but dread writing up to it, so I skip around in order to keep my motivation and interest up)

As for relationship progression, slow burn usually means a long time passes before anything develops. But this is a VN and I'm a solo part-time dev so the scope still has to be small 😔 That said!

Mychael, as a person, is quite solitary in nature; he likes being alone and you'll find out why. He does however desire company and he's only realized just how pleasant having someone around can be (hence his reaction for the Bad Endings in Day 1 if you wish to leave/run away)

Although I'm not a fan of the 'you do one (1) nice thing any decent person would do and yandere is already head-over-heels for you' trope, I do have to make use of it but, drip-feed style? You grow closer to Mychael as you hang out with him and do little things that he appreciates. (Honestly I just realized I'm describing the typical visual novel experience just without the yandere beginning-- go! figure!!! /lh)

Example: the first thing that boosts you to immediate friend status is your willingness to accept his physical looks, something that's never happened to him before. (I know my artstyle makes him a yassified pretty boy but imagine genuinely meeting a sentient creature in real life with patchy green skin, a dextrous tail and four blinking pitch black eyes, I think I'd freak too haha) Little things like that mean a lot to him and motivates him to prolong your stay.

In a way, the MC is written to be more kinder and open-minded (at least outside of Bad Ends) than the sweet/sour personalities that come in a VN, so (for narrative AND coding purposes) I can't really diversify it much. I hope that's okay ¯\_(; v ; )_/¯ If Mychael met a more grouchy/mean MC on Day 1 he'd probably not be as attached. He'd just save you, feed you and send you home when you ask hahaha. Of course this will change as he gets to know you better, at that stage he'll be willing to overlook your flaws like any upstanding yandere

Phew this was a lot to dump in an ask but I did wanna explain my vision for the game! I enjoy yandere VNs as an escape fantasy, but it's common they start out with the yan already being invested in you or fall for you too fast!!! if that makes sense. I'm interested in yanderes in the aspect of how love (romantic or otherwise) starts from innocent affection and spirals into dark obsession!!! It's also compelling as to why a character is so devoted to someone, in this situation the MC, and I wanna write the kind of person Mychael would fall for. And personally 'love-at-first-sight' as a reason just doesn't do it for me 💔

(Disclaimer!!! I'm not saying my game is any more original or better than the other wonderful yan VNs in the works, but hopefully with Mychael as a character I can deliver that 'slow-burn-and-yearn' storyline I'd like it to be. As my itchio profile says: I make games I thirst for in secret but are sadly lacking around the internet 💔 )

Thank you for the ask!! :-D

#mushroom oasis vn #mychael ask #doodles #cheea chatter #q

[ladamedusoif]

Sweets (Frankie Morales x F!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 8

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

FYI: I'm having so much trouble with taglists at the moment that I'm not going to use them for now - if you want to keep updated, follow @ladameecrit and turn on notifications.

Happy Festive Frankie Friday! 🎄

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI; smut, oral sex (m receiving), established relationship, reference to P in V sex

Word Count: 824 words

Summary: Frankie’s smutty imagination means you’ll never look at a candy cane ever again without giggling.

Is there anywhere better to be on a cold winter night in mid-December than curled up on the couch with Frankie, watching a cheesy old Christmas TV special? He’s snacking on buttered popcorn and drinking a beer, while you suck thoughtfully on your favourite holiday sweet: a classic, red and white striped, peppermint candy cane.

Frankie shifts in his seat and exhales, long and slow. “Jesus, fuck.”

You stop sucking and look at him, a little startled at the outburst.

His coffee-dark brown eyes are looking at you with softness and need, his breath hitching a little as his broad chest rises and falls under the warm, brushed cotton plaid shirt he’s wearing.

He swallows hard as his eyes wander to your mouth.

“Baby? What’s up?”

Frankie flushes pink. “It’s…fuck. It’s the way you’re sucking that candy. It’s…fuck, my mind is in the fuckin’ gutter.”

He chuckles, but you can still see the tension written all over his face and throughout his body. And then it dawns on you.

“Francisco Morales. An innocent little candy cane, and that’s what you start thinking of?”

Your eyes fall to his crotch, and you realise just how hard Frankie’s been thinking about…that.

A cheeky smile spreads across his beautiful, boyish face. “It’s not my fault, baby. It’s that mouth of yours, all pretty and perfect and…”

He leans in and kisses you, groaning with pleasure and need.

You put the candy cane down on a coaster and face him properly, cupping his face in your hands and caressing his patchy whiskers with your thumbs.

“What do you want, Frankie? Tell me. Tell me what you need.”

His eyes widen as he looks at your mouth, then meet your gaze. “Need your mouth on me, baby. Please.”

You push back the coffee table to give yourself a little more room and sink to your knees in front of him, parting his legs so that you can move between them.

Frankie’s breathing grows more rapid as you unbutton the waistband of his jeans and tug down the zipper, exposing his cock straining against the light fabric of his boxer briefs. With a smile, you lift up the hem of his shirt just enough to plant a series of kisses down his soft middle, from his belly button down the fine trail of dark hair, until you reach the band of his underwear.

“Fuck, please. Please, baby.”

“I love you, Francisco. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

With a careful tug of his boxers, his cock springs free: already hard and leaking with pre-come in anticipation. You hum happily to yourself as you wrap your fingers around his length, stroking the velvety skin a couple of times as you lick your lips.

“Beautiful boy.”

He moans raggedly as you slip him into your mouth, gently building up a rhythm and keeping your palm wrapped around the base.

“Oh, fuck, baby!” Frankie’s hips buck upwards as you take him further into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock.

You stop for a moment to check in. “You okay, love?”

He’s panting hard, now, head rolling back. “Fuckin’ amazing, baby. Just…fuck…tingly, or something.”

“Oh god, Frankie.” You can’t help but giggle. “It’s the peppermint. I’m sorry.”

He huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Keep going, baby,” he murmurs. “Feels so good.”

You grin and lick a long, slow stripe up the side of his gorgeous dick before starting to suck again, carefully taking more and more of him before glancing up to meet his gaze again.

It’s always a pleasure to take care of him like this, to make your love feel so good, just the way he likes: to watch just how wrecked this big, strong man becomes under the touch of your hand and the gentle, rhythmic motions of your mouth.

Vulnerability is never too far from Frankie’s gorgeous face, but he never looks more vulnerable - nor more gorgeous - than in moments like this. Him, buried inside you and sweat leaving a sheen on his brow, kissing you deeply as he’s about to come. You, between his thighs, moaning with delight as you feel his broad hand reach out to hold your head in place as you bring him closer and closer to his release.

He pants harder and harder, babbling about how much he loves you, loves your pretty mouth, loves it wrapped around him. Frankie comes with a cry, reaching for your free hand to hold it as he spills into your throat.

He opens his eyes, hazy with pleasure, and caresses your cheek. With a languid tilt of his head, he beckons you back up to his side.

“C’mere, sweet thing. Your turn, now.”

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #frankie morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales smut #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedrostories

[pascallllllll1]

The Happiest Place On Earth

Request: “Hi can I request a one shot where reader and Pedro Pascal have a daughter named Esmeralda? They go to Disney for the first time, they dress her up in a Grogu costume and go visit the Mando and everybody go crazy to see Pedro and his daughter.”

Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: follows the request above, I also made reader pregnant. Lots of fluff. Esmeralda’s age wasn’t specified so I made her like 4/5?

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: pregnancy, suggests smut but no actual smut.

Packing the last of the necessary items you’ll need for the day ahead in your backpack, you zip up the bag and readily set it by the front door of your room. Esmeralda had specifically requested that daddy book her in the fairytale suite so she could get her beauty rest like a real princess and being wrapped around her tiny finger Pedro went online later that day to book said room. The room your growing family of three is currently getting ready in. Cressessing your small bump you cross the room approaching your struggling husband who’s trying to fight your five year old into putting sunscreen on.

“NO DADDY!” She screeches, resisting his best efforts to apply the cream to her face and ears. 

“Princesa please, the quicker we finish this up the sooner we can leave and check out all the cool stuff.” He attempts to reason with her. Stubborn times such as this one remind you exactly how alike you both are, your living breathing karma of what you put your own parents through. You decide to throw Pedro a bone and come to his long awaited rescue. You fake gasp obnoxiously loud to catch your daughters attention;

“Oh. My. Gosh. Guess who I just found out is here?!” You ask Esmeralda dramatically, squatting eye level with her. Pedro laughs and moves over to make room for you next to him.

“Who?!” She asks, eyes widening in excitement.

“Grogu and Mando!!” You exclaim jumping up and bouncing around. Esmeralda screams at the information and launches herself forward tacking Pedro with a huff.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US DADDY!!!!”

“Careful,” You playfully chastise her. “Daddy’s getting old can’t be as rough with him or he’ll break on us.” You joke causing Esmeralda to throw her head back and fall over sideways exaggeratedly in a fit of laughter.

“I was gonna say sorry and give you your surprise mi hija but not if you two meanies are ganging up on me!” He pouts.

“Aw I’m sorry baby.” You coo, coming up to him to cup his face and kissing the patchy bald spot you love oh so much on his scruffy jaw.

“I promise to make you feel better later.” You whisper low enough for his ears only. Pedro closes his eyes and groans at your hidden meaning before standing to his full height and making his way over to his bag to dig for Esmeralda’s surprise. When he returns she’s waiting patiently trying to get a peak at plastic wrapped, outfit? tucked behind his back.

“IT’S A GROGU COSTUME!!!!!—“

“Wowww, inside voice please! I know it’s very exciting hun but there’s other people in the building.-“ He leans forward swooping Esmeralda up in his arms so she could further inspect the outfit.

“Sorry, daddy.”

“Thank you for apologising hun, it’s alright.” God he’s so patient and caring with her. Every time you witness this paternal side of Pedro feels like a gift. You really are the luckiest woman in the world blessed with the most loving, doting husband who excels at fatherhood beyond your wildest dreams and taking to it like a fish to water. This is it. Everything you’ve ever wished for is currently giggling to each other while dressing in the adorable costume. Your beautiful family, that soon but not nearly soon enough your baby boy will be joining.

“What do you think mommy, am I pretty?” Esmeralda asks, twirling around in a circle on one foot then posing with her hands on her hips. The large floppy green ears bounce and swing with every movement, she’s drowning in the baggy brown fabric of the robe, her bright pink converse sneakers peeking out from underneath, and wears a smile that says she’s never been happier.

“I think you look gorgeous baby, right daddy?” You ask teasingly, trying but ultimately failing to hold back a smirk. He crosses his arms and huffs. He’ll get you back for all your teasing later.

“Si te ves muy hermosa hija.” Pedro confirms smiling.

***

You follow and observe from behind while pushing Esmeralda’s wagon stroller as she leads your husband hand in hand through the bustling crowds towards the Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge attractions.

“Where would you like to go first, sweet girl?” Pedro asks, drawing Esmeralda’s wandering gaze to himself.

“I wanna make a lightsaber!!” She exclaims jumping up and down, her big ears slapping her face as she does causing both you and Pedro to laugh.

“Of course, let’s go head over there to… Black Spire Outpost.” He says pointing at the entrance of the workshop.

While Pedro pays for Esmeralda to do the activity you stand with your daughter admiring the beautifully staged rock cavern you're in. You’ve always loved and appreciated the Star Wars universe and its beauty. So many people and stories to explore within it that could continue going on infinitely. A warmth blossoms in your chest thinking about Pedro getting to be a part of that. He’d introduced everyone to a new character and without facial expression, only body language and tone of voice showed us the many layers and personality of The Mandalorian, Din Djarin. You are so insanely proud of him.

A kiss on your cheek and a hand drawing small circles on your belly brings you back to the present.

“Ok we’re all set, vamos!” Pedro announces giddily to which is met by loud cheers from your daughter.

The group you're with is small, usually that’s a positive but at the moment with such few faces amongst everyone to look at, your husbands very pretty and recognizable one is just that, more recognizable. You meet one of Savi’s Gatherers outside his workshop and Esmeralda chooses between four different hilts to build her lightsaber with, all having a different theme. Peace and Justice. Power and Control. Element Nature. Protection Defence. After hard consideration she diligently comes to the conclusion of choosing the Element Nature hilt which embodies the force, but mainly because she thought it was the coolest looking.

Next for the activity Esmeralda gets to choose a Kyber crystal, picking between red, blue, green and violet she confidently swipes the violet crystal.

“Now we get to put it together mommy!” She says smiling up at you with her crystal on display then runs to assemble the lightsaber with the help of her father. The process of putting everything together thankfully didn’t take long and in no time Esmeralda was wielding a blade of her own. By now you could feel the stares from those around you multiplying and you grab Pedro’s hand to signal his attention;

“Baby I think people are starting to notice who you are.” You speak quietly into his ear, playing it off like a playful kiss. He glances around inconspicuously and realises you’re right.

“Hey princesa, how ‘bout we go find some snacks, daddy’s getting hungry. Sound good babe?” He turns his head patiently waiting for confirmation from you. You peck his lips and respond with a, sounds good, and move to start making your way to the cantina cafe.

***

“Hi! could I get three small blue milks.. two roasted pork wrap Ronto Roasters and.. one grilled sausage, please!” You smile up at the cashier, she confirms your order and you tap your card on the scanner to pay then move closer to your family while you wait.

“Three small blue mills!” You grab your drinks thanking the worker and pass Esmeralda her own. She’s off in her own little world enthralled by the new strange drink.

“Babe,” Pedro says, getting your attention, then thanking you when you hand him his cup. You look up at him, eyebrows raising in question.

“People are starting to take photos and record, it’s only a matter of time before they start coming up to me-“

“-Two roasted pork wraps and one grilled sausage wrap!” Pedro sighs, moving over to grab the food, smiling at and thanking the worker again. He passes the food out and Esmeralda continues to zone out of yours and Pedro’s conversation and focus on the food set in front of her.

“How about you and Esmeralda finish up here and head towards a gift shop, I know she wants to grab some stuff for home. I’ll go use the washroom and walking around alone gives the fans some time to approach me without interfering with family time. I’ll come meet up with you both after a few photos.”

“Works with me.” You agree, smiling.

“Esmeralda, you wanna go space shopping while daddy goes pee?” The question has her snapping her head up at you and rushing to clean up her mess from eating.

“Ya! Ya! Let’s go, mommy!” She reaches for your hand not being used to push the stroller to hold and moves to leave, yelling over her shoulder to her dad;

“Don’t pee your pants, daddy! Mommy won’t be there to clean you up!” Pedro lets out an obnoxiously loud belly laugh that makes you giggle back at him before letting your daughter pull you down the path towards the promise of toys. After you and Esmeralda leave Pedro unwrap his food and scarfs it down quickly on his way to the washroom.

Esmeralda spends 20 minutes sorting through the many different options to bring home with her in Dok-Ondar’s Den of Antiquities. By the time the two of you make it up to the cash register she’s piling shirts, stuffies, one lanyard, a handful of pins and a few toys onto the checkout counter. When you paid the outrageous cost for her small hoard of items you tried to reason with yourself that it was Esmeralda’s first trip to Disney, special occasion means special treatment, right? As you’re walking out of the shop you spot Pedro finishing up with some fans a few feet ahead of you. Immediately, Esmeralda spots her daddy and is rushing over to him and jumping up into his arms.

“Daddy! I wanna show you all my new toys!” The group of people now forming around Pedro laugh and gush over your precious daughter, commenting on how much she resembles him. Esmeralda, like her father, soaks up with attention like a sponge and loves every second of it. As far as she’s concerned this group of people are for her and not her father. They all adore her Grogu outfit and one person tells Pedro he should’ve dressed as Mando to match.

“It’s always a pleasure to meet all of you and I’m sorry I can’t stick around longer but I have to get back to my family now. Everyone have a good time and enjoy yourselves!“ Pedro waves and smiles to everyone, carrying Esmeralda back over to you and continuing on in a new direction.

“How was that?” You ask him curiously. He turns to you and huffs out a breath;

“Good. I love getting to meet and interact with my fans, I wouldn’t be anywhere without their support. But sometimes I wish I could draw that line of time and place a little more clearly to them, ya know.” He shares with you. You nod in agreement and wrap an arm around his waist to comfort him.

“Yeah, I get it.” You say staring up at him. He leans down and softly kisses your lips letting them hover after.

“Ew! No kissing!” Esmeralda gasps grossed out before falling into a fit of laughter. Pedro attacks your face in kisses to bug her more and all you can do is laugh and enjoy this time with your family.

“Ok! Ok! Ah, ok!! Let’s go check out something else, huh?” You question both the Pascal’s before you.

“Falcon one next!”

“To the Millennium Falcon, vamos mi familia!!!” Pedro shouts with a loud clap of his hands.

The three of you spent the rest of the day exploring the galaxy via rides and interactive activities, gorging yourselves on as many sweet treats as your bodies could handle. Later that night you’d reward your husband and show him how much you appreciated what a perfect father and spouse he was. Meanwhile twitter and Instagram would become flooded with photos of your family adventuring Disney, Esmeralda as Grogu causing fans to go wild.



Open to requests!!

#pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction

[lunarmoonanons]

Wilted Rose

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Can you please write an angst fic where Maegor and his Tyrell wife’s youngest son is revealed to be allergic to the flowers in his mother’s garden so Maegor has all the flowers removed?

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Sequel to Dragon's Rose

Masterlist

It was widely debated on whether or not Maegor loved his children. He had a fondness for his girls and was proud of his sons. Having nine children made it difficult to zero in on that integral feeling of love. For he was still strict with all his children. People agreed that he loved his Tyrell wife, but many said that only happened after she gave him children. He was strict with her as well. 

YN loved her children, even though every time she looked at her sons she always saw Maegor’s face. She would spend a lot of time with her children. Her favorite time’s with her children were in the gardens that hosted her favorite flowers. Even though she was a Tyrell, her favorite flowers were lilies. She had her own path of lilies back at highgarden, and in an attempt to keep his wife happy Maegor had her favorite flower littered around the gardens of the Red Keep. 

YN started to notice something wrong with her youngest son, Laenyx. The four year old loved spending time with his mother, and since he was the youngest son he was allowed to be coddled and babied. So whenever she was in the garden, the little boy was right behind her. Holding her skirts and smelling the flowers with his mother. Though lately when he would smell the lilies with his mother he would sneeze and cough violently. His skin would turn red and patchy, becoming unbearably itchy. Eventually YN couldn’t bear seeing her son suffer when in the garden, so she reluctantly removed herself from the garden. 

It was widely noticed at the dower mood of the queen. How depressed she became at the loss of her precious outdoor time. YN felt like a bot of her soul was gone at the fact her body was trapped in the red keep she hated so much. Eventually Maegor grew to notice his wife’s depressed mood. Normally he would let her be, and attend to his other wives. But YN was his favorite wife. His successful and loving bride. So he resolved himself to fix her sour mood. 

“There’s no need to stand.” Maegor said as he entered his wife’s room. She was sitting by the fire, reading a book. 

“What can I do for you husband?” YN asked, placing her book down and tried to wrap her robe around her body as a weak attempt to hide herself from him. 

“I would ask what I can do for you, dear love.” He knelt in front of her and took her small hand into his. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I’m perfectly happy.” YN tried to assure him. 

“Now I am not stupid, YN. I am observant and I’ve seen your unhappiness, the whole of the Keep has.” Maegor began to rub his thumb over her knuckles. “Now tell me what is wrong.”

YN looked away and bit her lip. Trying to navigate what she wanted to say without having him feel the need to impose himself in her life further. “I’ve just.. missed the garden these past days. That’s all.”

“Then why do you deprive yourself of them? I’ve not made it impossible to see them.” 

“I Know. I know. But it’s the lilies.” YN looked at her husband who nodded at her to explain. “Laenyx is intolerable of them. The maester says his body cannot tolerate the pollen and fragrance they give off. And he spends all his time that he can with me. So I can’t have him suffer just because I want a walk in the garden.”

“I see.” Maegor stood up.

“I didn’t mean to keep this from you!” YN hurriedly explained. “It just you have so much to deal with already and I spend all my time with the younger children anyways tha-”

“I will see what I can do.” Maegor interrupted. 

“But… there's nothing to do. It's just the body’s nature sometimes to reject certain plants. I don’t think you can do anything for me.” YN stood up. 

Maegor held her face in his hands and placed a kiss on her forehead. “YN. You are my wife. You have given me nine children. If I fail you now then I am a pathetic husband. You will have your walks in the garden.”

With that he left the room and YN collapsed to the floor, taking in deep breaths. Even after all this time, she still feared what Maegor would do. Especially in the name of love for her. 

Few days later, YN was in the children’s room playing with her youngest two. Laenyx and his sister Daela jumped around their mother as she smiled and tickled them. Their time together was cut short by a guard coming into the room. 

“Excuse me, your majesty. But the king would like to see you and your children in the garden.” YN stood and picked up her little girl, holding her son’s small hand in her own. 

Once they made it to the garden. YN noticed the fragrance of lilies burnt wafted through the air. She looked around the garden and noticed her flowers were gone. A fire just outside the garden caught her attention, making her unable to notice Tyanna coming up behind her. 

“Maegor has done a great service for you, little rose.” Tyanna whispered in her ear, making YN jump. 

“What do you mean?” YN held her children closer. 

“Here he comes now. Ask about the flowers.” With that the strange woman slinked away. 

YN looked around and saw no lilies, She saw roses, daisies, and many more. But none of her dear lilies. Maegor came to her and kissed her forehead. YN swallowed her sadness and looked up at him. 

“I have given you a new garden.”

“Where are my lilies?” YN asked.

“I had them burned. Now there is nothing to stop you from spending time with our children in the garden.” Maegor stated as though he did her a great favor. “Now you shall be happy in the garden, with all these new flowers. Isn’t that wonderful?”

YN blinked away her tears quickly before Maegor could see her sad expression. She plastered on a pleasant smile and gave Maegor a kiss. “It is a lovely gesture. Isn’t that right Laenyx? Thank your father.”

Laenyx nodded and gave his father a hug. YN continued to smile the rest of the day, never letting anyone see her crumbling soul. Her lips remained stretched until she made her way to her bed. She sat on the edge and placed a pillow over her face, gripping it tightly as she muffled her scream against the fabric. The scream turned into a sob and she held the pillow close to her face until she was all cried out. Those lilies were her own little escape from Maegor. And like her family, he took them away as well. It felt like every little thing that was hers was slowly slipping away from her grasp. She wondered when he would take her children from her. Her little lilies.

#hotd #maegor x reader #yandere maegor #maegor targaryen #tyrell reader #house targaryen #maegor the cruel

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

hey, I'm a new reader and I love that you write dark stuff! you asked for unhinged requests.. i hope it's not too unhinged <3 a chillout evening with euronymous hearing music and smoking pot at reader's flat. the house party slowly comes to an end and he's the only guest left. He talks about hating posers and that he admires pelle for cutting himself on stage. he wants to try it too - now. both are super drunk and stoned, he gives reader the knife. after a bit hesitation he gets what he wants and it really turns him on. It leads to nasty sloppy bloody sex with a very submissive and masochistic Euro. Could also fit to Kappa!

My dearest nonnie, thank you for this request! 🫶🏻

Creep

Summary: After a night of party and unprompted celebration, some matters with your boyfriend take a drastic turn in a very different direction…

Pairing: Euronymous x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Content Warnings: Trve Kvlt Smvt 18+!, Unprotected P In V, Implied Substance Use (Pot And Alcohol), Kink Acceptance, Consensual Cutting, Blood Kink, Submissive!Euro, Dom!Reader, Reader and Øystein Are Painfully Lost For A Hot Minute, Pet Names/Honorifics, Implied Aftercare, Varg Vikernes Slander 💅🏻

A/N: I believe that by now we all know that I'm writing about Rory portraying Euronymous and not the edgelord with a patchy mustache 💀

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine

But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo

What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't belong here

- Creep By Radiohead

Accompanied by a long, dragged out yawn, you let your back fall against the cozy mattress of your messy bed. You stretched your tired body and felt like sinking into the fabric of your soft duvet, uncounted amounts of Tequila shots and a bloodstream saturated with THC doubled down on you after hosting a rather impromptu party with Euronymous and his friends from the Black Circle at your place.

"Øystein!", You called out to your boyfriend who waddled towards the bed while simultaneously stripping out of his clothes up to his shorts, "C'm here…I wanna cuddle you!"

Your voice slurred a bit but you didn't care. As long as your head wouldn't start spinning just now, you'd manage.

"On my way!" Euronymous stated, stumbling towards the bed and flopping himself right next to you face first before he turned on his back with an exhausted groan.

"Next time you better warn me before you just bring your greasy boy horde here, Øystein!" You teased whilst closely snuggling up to him, cradling his lean statue in your arms.

"I did!", He mumbled with a wide, zooted-out grin on his face, "I texted you 20 minutes before!"

"You know what I mean." Your elbow playfully nudged his side before he scooted closer into your embrace, sighing contentedly.

"Yeah, yeah…sorry, won't happen again. But it was nice, no?" His temple leaned into the crook of your neck and you felt his warm breath, heavy with hints of weed and alcohol on your collarbone.

"Yeah, unexpectedly nice but I've been wondering why Varg's never around to party." Your furrowed your brows just a little at the thought.

"You mean Christian?", Øystein snarled in an unmistakably derogatory tone, "Fucking poser if you ask me. He's too busy being a boring prick with his no alcohol, no party and no meat policy."

"Kinda no pussy policy, too, huh?" With your comment you elicited a loud and hearty laugh from your boyfriend's mouth.

"Oh, absolutely! Dude ripped off his cringe Scorpions patch and thinks he's the big deal now…stupid poser…" Euronymous mumbled into the skin of your neck before he looked up at you, his bloodshot eyes searching yours.

"Mmm…babe? Can I ask you something?" His lips pursed a little, sparking your curiosity.

"Sure, what's up?" You met his drowsy gaze with a warm smile.

"Uhm, I don't want to sound like a complete nut job, but..", He huffed reluctantly, biting down on the insides of his cheek, "But I think it's pretty cool what Pelle did at our last gig, you know, the…well, y'know?"

"The….cutting? You mean that?" Your brows arched a bit further in a low wave of concern.

Of course you've supported your boyfriend at their last gig, just like every gig before that but what happened on stage that time had been something a little very outlandish, even to you.

"Yeah, uhm…", Øystein stuttered somewhat insecure, nearly tripping over his own words, "I…okay, so…I think that was really…like really damn true."

"Okay…" You reciprocated slowly, the creeping feeling that this was not being all to it dawning on you, "....and?"

"And…ugh…" Euronymous shimmied himself out of your hug a little to properly look at you, "Hear me out, okay? I-...I know it sounds fucking deranged but…maybe…I'd like to know how that feels?"

His voice rendered lower with every word until the last bit of the sentence was nearly inaudible.

"Oh…", It fell from your lips a little clueless, "I mean…I couldn't stop you from doing it, but.."

"That's not…", Øystein interrupted you, his pale cheeks flushing with a tint of red, "It's not…I…fuck….I'd like you to do it. Thought about it since the last show. There, it's out now."

He made a move to turn his head away from you in shame but before he could, you cupped his jaw with the palm of your hand and guided him back to look at you. So many alcohol and weed spiked thoughts ran through your thoroughly intoxicated mind that you hardly knew what to say about it and of all things possible it was an upright "Are you sure about that?" that rolled over your tongue.

"Yeah." He muttered, eyes widening in uncertain anticipation.

"Okay, uhm…so…don't you think that…that we should maybe do this sober, babe?" You suggested, watching how his cheeks turned into a deeper shade of red.

"No, yes, ugh…I…can we maybe just try it? Now?" You took notice of the almost needy desperation in his voice and you'd be lying if you said it wasn’t doing something to you.

"Now?" You inquired a bit taken aback.

"Yeah.", Øystein nodded, scooting further away from you until he raised his torso off the bed, reaching for his pants, "Here…with that."

His slightly trembling fingers fumbled around the waistband of his trousers, fishing for a hunting knife that he started to carry with himself in a sheath on his belt a while ago. As soon as he had pulled the sharp metal blade from its casing, he held it up to you and your eyes widened at the dedication in his proposal.

"The sharper the better… Pelle told me.", Euronymous stated with a tremble in his tone, "Takes less effort….y'know."

"Uh, wow, uhm…you really want that, huh?" , You took the handle from his grip and studied the shape of the blade cautiously, "With all due respect, babe, this looks really sharp…"

"Fair enough…" With your eyes trained to the blade you sat yourself back upright against the headboard of your bed.

"Okay…so…so how do we start this now, huh?" You mumbled more to yourself than to your gradually more excited boyfriend.

"Like…where would you want me to cut you?" It rambled out of you.

With an equally puzzled face, Euronymous took a seat in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest while looking at the knife in your hand.

"Not my arms, that's for sure…thighs, maybe?" He suggested with a shrug of his shoulders.

"But, like, the top, yeah? I'm not gonna cut you on the insides." A slight shudder went through you just at the thought of possibly cutting too deep on the inside of his thighs.

"Yeah, yeah…of course, that's good." He replied with a shaky voice.

"Okay, so, am I just gonna…", You inhaled sharply to steady yourself, "Am I just gonna do this now or what?"

"I'm ready, I trust you, babe." Øystein wiggled a little in his sitting position, "Do you want me to help you get started?"

"Yeah, I think that wouldn't be too bad…" At that he reached for your hand that was holding the knife, cupping it and slowly bringing it towards his thigh, pointing the sharp tip right against the delicate, pale skin of his leg.

"Are you really sure about this?" You asked once more, just to be sure.

"Yes. I want that, been thinking about it for so long now…" Euronymous answered in heavy breaths, feeling the tip of the blade on his skin.

"Okay…so…" You slowly lowered the end of the blade onto his skin, applying a very careful amount of pressure.

The device was indeed so sharp that it broke through the first layers of his skin like a bread knife through room-temperature butter.

"That's is…" Øystein encouraged you and with that you slid the blade over his thigh, a bright red stream of blood pooling at the incision right away.

"Fuck.." Your boyfriend exhaled while he threw his head back.

"Fuck, what? Is it bad? Do you want me to stop?!" You were ready to pull the blade back at any second.

"No, more…please…, Ma'am." Euronymous pushed between trembling lips and his intonation shot right through you, sending a jolt of arousal right to your cunt.

With the knife in your hand and your gaze transfixed on the first cut, deeply red droplets gathering all over it, you placed the blade a little lower, repeating the same motion, ripping his skin and drawing even more blood.

"Shit…fuck….feels so good, Ma'am." He huffed, sounding…grateful.

"Good god, such a good boy for me, huh?" You jumped right into his headspace, shamelessly indulging in it.

"Always!" Øystein groaned out as you left another shallow yet efficient cut on his thigh.

With a subconsciously forming grin around your lips, you noticed how your boyfriend's cock started twitching in his briefs.

"Aww, is that making you hard, Øystein?" You pushed only to be hit by: "Just one more, please, one more and I'll fuck you so good, Ma'am, I promise!"

With eyes wide and an already throbbing cunt, you cut over his thigh once more, eagerly awaiting his reaction.

"Fuuuuuuuck!" He pressed a guttural groan through trembling lips before unceremoniously slapping the knife out of your hand and practically pouncing on you.

Before your intoxicated brain could truly fathom what was happening, Euronymous shoved his shorts down to his knees for his hard on to slap against his lower abdomen in a wet thud as he pushed his crotch between your legs.

"Shit, you really needed that, didn't you?" It cascaded out of your mouth as you felt him drilling into you.

"Yes, fuck…yes, Ma'am, thank you!" He whined against the shell of your ear as he started fucking into you at a reckless pace.

With every needy thrust of his hips against your lap, you felt the blood, still oozing out of the cuts, sticking against your thighs. Lewd, wet and squelching sounds from his cock pushing in and out of your cunt mixed in with the slapping of skin against skin and you could hardly hold on to yourself because Øystein never ever went that feral on you just like that.

"Such a good, needy boy for me, filling me up so fucking good!" You praised as your eyes fluttered shut, your entire body buzzing with physical sensations.

Every roll of his hips against you had you tethering on the edge of orgasming already. In your thoroughly intoxicated state, you could hardly tell whether or not your pussy was contracting all around him by then or not. Every sensation was fading into the next one, making you feel like cumming on his cock for as long as Øystein kept fucking into you.

"Oh, God, fuck….shit…" It spilled out of his mouth as he hammered himself into you one last time.

"Ma'am, fuck…." Euronymous groaned into your ear right before you recognised his cock twitching and pulsing inside of you, pumping his load deep into your pussy.

"You good?" It left your mouth in heavy breaths.

"Uh-huh…" He muttered before collapsing right onto you, his face hidden deep into your neck.

"Shit…that was something…", You tried to catch your breath while wrapping your arms around his sweat coated back, "You did so good for me, love."

"Really?" Øystein hummed into your skin.

"Of course you did. We gonna take good care of those cuts tomorrow, yeah?"

#tam rambles #asks are appreciated #asks are always open #rory culkin #euronymous x fem!reader #euronymous x reader #euronymous #euronymous × you #euronymous smut #rory culkin lords of chaos #lords of chaos

[milesdickpic]

His Little Girl | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader P.77

Click here to see the master list

Hello, my lovelies! The long wait is finally (kinda?) over! I am finally posting the next part of the HLG series. I just want to thank everyone who is still here with me and reading my fics. You are all truly the best. Thank you to everyone who has stuck around and to the newbies, WELCOME TO THE FAM! I love you all so much. ❤️ Thank you for this extraordinary journey. Happy reading and enjoy besties! 💕

A/n: The moment we have been waiting for has arrived! It's Bradley's first day back home, but that's not the only reason this day is special! There are so many things that will unload in this chapter! Get ready for another emotional rollercoaster... 🫣🫢

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: crying, cursing, description of injuries and pain, sadness, anxiousness, signs of PTSD, some adult jokes, but also so much love 🥰

Please don't take my work, I will find you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next couple of days, Bradley was progressing with his mobility and his ability to do things on his own. He still needed plenty of help, but he was doing so well. You walked into his room quietly as he stood at his bed packing things into his duffle bag. His arm was still in a sling to support his healing clavicle and shoulder. You knocked on the for frame and he turned around quickly. “Hey, baby. I didn’t know you were already here.” He chuckled and turned around. “Come and give me a hug, sweetheart.” 

You smiled and went into his embrace. You kissed his scruffy cheek. “You know, I’m liking the facial hair, Brad. You look good.” You raised your brows. 

He shook his head, “You mean this patchy ass beard. Baby, it took me 7 years to perfect this mustache. I think it’ll take me another 7 for this beard.” He chuckled and kissed your head. 

You ran your hand over his facial hair that was coming in. “I think you should let it grow. It’ll look really good on you.” 

He sighed, “I guess I can try, but everyone is going to make fun of how it looks. You know how hard it is for me to grow facial hair.” He laughed and continued to put things into his bag.

“Here, let me help you.” You started to fold his clothes neatly and place them into his bag.  He stood there and watched you. 

“Thank you, baby.” He kissed your temple. He sat on the chair next to the bed and started to put his shoes on. “Is everything ready to go? Can I finally get processed out of here? Can I finally go home to my own privacy and bed?” He chuckled.

You zipped up his bag, “It is, baby. You are all set to come home.” You smiled and turned to him. “Do you know what today is?”

He shook his head and chuckled, “I have no idea what day of the week it is, nor the date honey.”

You walked over to him and rubbed his cheek. You lifted his chin so you could kiss him. “Happy Birthday, baby.” You smiled and pecked his lips again.

He looked at you with wide eyes, “Holy shit, are you serious. I’ve been here for that long? It’s already my birthday, sweetheart?” He started to laugh. “Holy shit.”

You pecked his lips a couple of more times. “Bradley Bradshaw you are one crazy man. I’m glad you get to come home for your birthday.”

He smiled up at you and grabbed your hip, “Thank you, baby.”

You rested your forehead against his, “Show me the way home, honey.” 

You pulled into the driveway of your house. Bradley looked up at the house and sighed happily. “God, I’m so happy to be home.” He was smiling so big. You looked over at him and rubbed his knee. 

“Let’s get you inside, Bradley. Get you situated and comfy.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek. 

He nodded, “I can’t wait to freaking eat. I’m raiding the pantry when we get in that house, baby.” He started to laugh. 

Hangman came out and greeted the both of you. He helped Bradley down from the car and grabbed his duffle from the flat. He hugged Bradley tight, “Welcome home, big boy. You’re looking finer than ever.” He kissed his cheek hard and chuckled.

Bradley leaned his body weight against Hangman so he could help him to the door. “Dude, it feels so good to be home. I hope you cook your famous ribs because I am fucking starving, man.” Bradley laughed. 

“Oh man. You are going to eat good today. I promise, Bradshaw.” Hangman rubbed his back as he helped him onto the porch to the front door. 

You opened the front door and Hangman helped Bradley through the threshold into the house. 

“Surprise!” Everyone yelled to surprise Bradley. He looked up with wide eyes and an even wider smile. 

“Holy shit!” He looked around and greeted everyone that was over to see him. 

A couple of Bradley’s pilots from work were there to celebrate Bradley’s birthday and to welcome him home. Phantom and the other admirals and their families were there, Mav, Austin, Phoenix, and Leia. Bradley was over joyed to see everyone. Everyone took turns welcoming Bradley home and wishing him happy birthday. After Bradley said his hello’s and thank you’s to everyone he came over to you and kissed your cheek. 

“Did you plan this, sweetheart?” He furrowed his brows at you and looked at you in disbelief. 

You looked around and smiled. “I had some help. It wasn’t just me.” You got up onto your tip toes and kissed his scruffy jawline. “Welcome home, baby.”

Mav went and settled all of Bradley’s things in yours and his room. Hangman and Austin helped Bradley up the stairs to the room. You followed behind making sure they were okay.

“Aww man, it smells so good in here. I am so freaking hungry. I’m going to eat everything in sight.” Bradley started to laugh as Austin held him to lower him onto the bed. Bradley sat back as you started to undo his arm sling. He hissed at the pain when his arm weight started to settle down. 

Maverick brought up his medication and some water. Bradley took it as you continued to undress him. 

“All right, well let us know when you are done getting him ready. I’m going to head back down before I start to blush.” Hangman chuckled and grabbed Austin’s shoulder as they exited the room. 

Bradley put his hand on yours, “Sweetheart, I can do it. I have to try.” 

“Brad..” He waved you off. 

“Please. I need to try. If I need you I’ll let you know.” He gave you a smile and you nodded. 

Bradley’s POV

I got up and went into the bathroom. I didn’t want you to see all my wounds. I was nervous and scared for you to see it. I hadn’t even fully seen them yet. Mav assisted me as you waited out on the bed. 

I started to remove my pants and Mav placed his hand on my hips. “You got it, kid?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I got it,” I grunted as I dragged my pants off my legs. “Shit. Can you pull them off my ankles now?” I rested my hand against the sink’s countertop to gain my balance as Mav started to remove the pant legs from around my ankles. 

I took a deep breath as I started to remove my shirt. “Damn. I should just cut myself out this damn thing.” I chuckled as I carefully removed the shirt from my wounded arm. “Ah FUCK!” I looked up at the ceiling and then closed my eyes tightly.

Mav rubbed my back, “Hey it’s okay. Take your time, Brad. No need to rush. It’s gonna take some time. You’re doing great.” He took the shirt from my grasp and put it into the dirty clothes hamper. 

I hadn’t seen myself since before the accident. My breath was shaken. I was scared to look. As Mav was in the closet getting me some clothes, I walked over to the full body mirror on the sliding closet doors. I was looking down at my feet. I could feel my heart rate picking up. I looked up slowly in the mirror to see myself. I started to shake. 

“Holy Shit,” I whispered as I examined the damage. I had a huge slice that was healing across my right thigh. I could see where the staples had been, each little dot of whiter skin in a perfectly lined row. I had minor cuts that were healed but the skin was whiter than rest of my leg and still raised as it continued to heal. I had bruises all over my groin from when the chute hoisted me up before I plummeted to the water. My hips had been bruised up and were healing. My skin looked yellow on them. I looked up my torso. The by far worst part of me. I started to lose my definition. My dad bod was definitely coming in from being bed ridden the last month. My torso was still black and blue from impact. It was so tender to the touch. I traced over the sutures I had near my broken clavicle. It was still sensitive and swollen to the touch. I examined my shoulder. Staples still heavily in it, I could probably set off a metal detector when I walked through it. It was still swollen, covered in dried blood, and bruised. What the fuck. Who the fuck was this. My neck bruises and abrasions were healing and not as noticeable. My face swelling had gone down, but I didn’t look like me. 

I started to feel anxious. I felt sweat break out on my neck. I placed my hand over my eyes and squeezed them as all I could hear was Phoenix yelling for me. I let out a shaky sigh. “Holy fuck.” I whined out. I felt a hand on my back and the door open. 

“Hey, It’s okay, Bradley. Let’s sit you down kid.” Mav helped me over to the bathtub to sit. He held my face in his hands. “Hey breathe with me now, all right?” I nodded in his embrace. We were breathing together. 

“Is he okay?” Your voice full of concern. 

“I’m okay, baby.” I shot you a thumbs up. “I’m okay.” 

“I got him y/n. Why don’t you go down stairs and get the guys. He’ll be ready soon.” Mav shot you a smile as he continued to rub my cheeks in his hands. You nodded and left the room. 

“Bradley, Hey. You okay?” 

I closed my eyes tight and nodded, “I’m pretty banged up, Mav. I didn’t think I was this bad.”

He patted my cheek, “Hey, stop that. You look great. You are doing so well.” I gulped and looked up at him. He nodded. “You’re doing so good, kiddo. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

I nodded. “All I can hear is her yelling at me, Mav.” My lip started to quiver. “How do I make it go away?”

Mav furrowed his brows, “Hear who yelling, Bradley?”

“Phoenix.” I looked around the bathroom. “She was the last person I heard over the radio before I went down. The hurt in her voice.” I took a deep breath, “And Riot, he was in a panic. He ran outta flares.” I looked up at him. “How did you get through it… when it was you and I?”

Mav stood up and started to clean up my staples and stitches. “I just keep thinking about how you’re still here. I think about you being okay. It is hard. I have a lot of dreams about that day. I think of all the different possible outcomes that could have happened if something else didn’t go the way it did. So I know. It’s hard. But the best way to help yourself, well is to talk about it. Remember they are still here. They’re downstairs right now waiting for you.” He started to help me put on my shirt. “They’re here and you’re here. Lean on everyone, Rooster. I promise it’ll get easier. I’ll be here with you every step of the way.” He stood me up to help put some sweatpants on me. 

I gulped, “How’d you do it with dad?” 

He stopped for a minute and sighed. “It was hard. One of the hardest things in my life. I loved your dad more than anything. He was my best friend, you all were all I had left. I had to forgive myself. It took years for me to fully forgive myself for what happened with your dad. But with a lot of help, I was able to cope.” He sat me back down and started to put new socks on me. “It won’t be easy, Rooster. But it does get better.” He patted my cheek and helped me stand up. 

There was a knock on the door. “You decent in there?” Hangman called through the door. 

“Yea, he’s ready!” Mav helped put my sling back on my arm. 

“Thank you, Mav.” I nodded at him.

He smiled at me and strapped my sling. “Hey. I’ll always be here for you, Bradley. No matter what.” 

Hangman and Austin helped me back down the stairs. Everyone was excited when I came back down. Leia came over with her teddy bear. 

“Daddy look! Still has your wings!” She smiled up at me while holding the bear up to me. 

I took the bear and gave it a hug. “My girl, thank you for always keeping them safe.” I leaned down and kissed her head. I gave her back her bear and she gave it a hug. 

“Daddy, I made you a plate of food!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me eagerly over to the table.

“Hey, baby, not so hard with your daddy, please!” You called over to the both of us.

I laughed and shot you a wink, “I’m okay, sweetheart. She’s just excited. It’s okay.” 

Leia pulled out my chair for me and gestured for me to sit. “Here, daddy!” She was so happy.

I chuckled and kissed her head, “Baby, you shouldn’t have to pull my chair out for me, but thank you so much, sweetheart.” I sat down and she tried to push my chair in. I chuckled and I helped scoot in while she pushed.

She got on her tip toes and pulled my shoulder down to kiss my cheek. “I’ll go get your plate, daddy! Sit tight!” She skipped to the kitchen. I had small talk with a couple of the other pilots that were at the house. “Daddy!” Everyone got quiet and brought their attention to Leia. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” 

“Daddy, what do you want to drink?” She looked over and through everyone to make eye contact with me. She was smiling so big. She was the cutest little babe ever. 

I chucked, “I’ll just have some water, sweetheart. Thank you.”

“Yes, sir!” She came over and gave me my plate of food and a cup of water. She kissed my cheek, “There is another plate! I’ll be back!’

“Another plate!?” I was shocked and looked down at the plate already full of food. She placed the second plate of food down and she nestled herself into my arm. 

“Eat up, daddy! We have to get you big and strong again!” She kissed my arm a couple of times. “Do you need help with eating, daddy?” She peered up at me through her lashes. 

I kissed the top of her head and smiled. “I’m okay, baby. You’ve already done enough for me. Thank you so much, my Leia Rey.” 

I leaned down to lay my head on her head when she pulled me down a little further. She pushed her forehead to the side of my head, “If you need anything else, make sure to let me know, Daddy.” She kissed my cheek and disappeared into the crowd of friends. 

Phoenix reached over and grabbed my hand. “I’m glad to have you back home, Bradshaw.” She gave me a smile as we all started to eat. 

After we all ate, I went into the backyard to get some fresh air and enjoy the sunset. I felt someone rub my back. I turned around and saw Riot. 

“Sir.” He gave me a weak smile. 

I patted his shoulder and pulled him under my wing. “Beautiful, isn’t it, Riot?” I was looking out to the sunset. 

“Yes, sir. It’s a beautiful view.” He cleared his throat. “Sir.”

I chuckled. “No need for formalities, we are outside of work, Riot. You can always just call me Rooster.” I patted his shoulder.

He nodded, “Rooster, I hadn’t had the chance to thank you.” He looked at me with sadden eyes. 

“Thank me?”

He stood in front of me with his head down. “I haven’t thanked you properly for saving my life.” He took a deep breath, “You could have let me meet my own faith. I was out of flares… but instead you bit the bullet for me and risked yourself.”

“Riot.” He looked up at me, “You don’t need to thank me. I wasn’t going to leave you out there like that. It wasn’t your fate. I promised myself and you all that I would get you all home safely. At any cost.”

He started to break down, “Sir. I thought I lost you. My heart felt like it was going to explode, knowing that you had your pregnant wife and daughter waiting for you at home.” 

“And you have your family waiting for you at home. Your parents and your boy.” 

He wiped his tears, “Sir, I owe you my life. You saved me when you didn’t have to. And well now you’re here.”

I chuckled. “Here?” I looked up and looked around me, “Riot, I’m alive and here with you, everyone, my family.” I patted his shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up please.”

“But, Rooster.”

I shook my head, “Riot. I’m serious. I’m here. You’re here.”

He nodded. “Thank you for saving my life, Rooster.”

I smiled and pulled him in to hug him, “I’d save your ass any day, kid.” I started to laugh as did he. “Let’s get back in. I think I’m ready for some cake.” I patted his back as we walked back into the house. 

Leia came running to me and grabbed my hand again. “Daddy! It’s time for your cake!” She started to pull me over to the table. “Okay! Okay! I am ready for it, little Leia!” 

I sat down in the chair. “Daddy, is it okay if i sit in your lap? Or will it hurt too much?” She gave me the famous puppy dog eyes. 

I welcomed her into my lap, “Of course you can, sweetheart. I’d be sad if you didn’t.” Leia hopped into my lap and got comfortable. “Daddy, you’re really going to like your cake. I picked it out for you.” She whispered into my ear. 

I placed my hand on her belly and kissed her temple. “Did you, baby? Oh I am definitely going to love it then.”

Mav brought over my cake it was chocolate cake with chocolate shavings all over the sides and chocolate drizzle on top. “Oh my god.” I was mesmerized. It looked so fucking good.

Leia whispered into my ear, “The inside is chocolate too, daddy.” She winked at me.

“Holy shit, Leia Rey. You know me so well, sweetheart.” I kissed her head over and over again. You came over and placed the candles on my cake. 

“Damn, Rooster. One year away from 30.” Hangman laughed at me and held his beer to me. I shook my head at him. 

“Thats one year less than you are.” I chuckled. 

He narrowed his eyes at me, “Watch it, Bradshaw.” He started to laugh as he took a sip of his beer. 

You placed a kiss on my cheek and lit the candles. “I added one for good luck, baby.” You winked at me. “Okay on three! One, two, three!” Everyone started to sing happy birthday to me. I swayed with Leia in my lap and sung it with her. 

After the song was finished she turned to me and kissed my cheek, “Make a wish, daddy.” 

I smiled at her, “How about you make one with me, baby. I have all that I need here.” Her eyes lit up. 

“Okay…” She thought about it. “I wish for you to always be safe, daddy.” She was holding back her tears. I saw her eyes gloss over. “I love you, daddy.”

I kissed her cheek. “I love you, sweetheart.” 

“Ready to blow?” 

“Let’s do it, babe.” We blew the candles out together. 

Everyone was cooing over Leia’s wish. I caught a glimpse of you wiping the tears from your eyes. You started to cut the cake and gave me the first piece, “Happy birthday, honey. I love you, always, Bradley.”

“Thank you baby. I love you, forever.”

Leia and I shared my piece of cake. She fed it to me. It was so good. “Leia Rey, you picked such a good cake. Thank you.”

“Aunt Phoenix and I picked it out for you.” She smiled at me. 

Phoenix came to grab her piece for her and Austin, “You’re welcome, Bradshaw.” She gave me a hug.

I kissed her cheek, “Well thank you Auntie Phoenix and my little Vapor girl. It’s delicious.” 

The party continued for the rest of the night. Everyone started to help clean up around 2000. After cleaning up, they all started to leave one by one. Austin and Hangman helped me up the stairs to our bedroom. 

“You showering tonight, Bradshaw?” Hangman helped me sit on the bed. 

“Yea. I’m gonna shower. Or probably bathe.” I sighed as I started to remove my clothes. 

Hangman chuckled, “Do you need any help? Just don’t blush.” 

I nodded unenthusiastically, “Yea, could you guys lend me a hand.” They started to help me take my clothes off until I was in my briefs. Austin removed my sling. 

“Do you need help getting into the tub, Bradley?” Austin undid my sling and placed it onto the bed. 

I gulped and looked at the bathtub in the bathroom. “I’m embarrassed for you guys to see me fucking naked. But, I do need help getting in. Please.” 

Hangman shook his head, “I’ve seen you naked plenty of times. You think I care?”

I squinted my eyes at him, “You’re making me nervous now.” 

Austin went to go and turn the water on. “We are all guys. No need to be ashamed. I don’t mind helping you out, Brad. I do this for a living.”

Hangman looked at Austin with wide eyes. “You what? You helped grown men get naked and put ‘em in tubs?”

Austin chuckled at Hangman’s analogy. “I’m a caretaker. Back in San Diego, I have patients that I provide at-home care for. I’m used to this.” He tested the water temperature. “It’s ready to go, Bradley. When you’re ready.”

Hangman helped me up and walked me over to the tub. I struggled to pull my briefs down. “Hey. I got you, Roo.” Hangman helped me out of my briefs and they helped me into the tub. I sat down and laid back in the warm water. 

“Holy shit this feels fucking amazing. I haven’t had a proper shower in forever. Just sponge baths.” I laid my head back and relaxed. 

You walked in and giggled. “You all having an after party?” We all turned around quickly to you.

“I- uh. We were…” Hangman was pointing at me and tripping over his words. 

“We were helpin him into the tub, darlin. He wanted to take a proper bath now that he’s home.” Austin chuckled and wrapped his arm over your shoulders. 

You nodded, “Thank you guys.” You looked at Hangman deviously, “You’re blushing, Jake.” 

You started to laugh as he rolled his eyes. “How about you guys go help finish cleaning up. I’ll take it from here.” You smiled at the both of them.

“Hey, no it’s okay, y/n. We can help him out.” Hangman waved you off.

You hugged both of them and started to push them out the door, “I got it from here boys, thank you. Seriously.” 

They left and you came back to me in the tub. “Baby, I can do it. I promise.”

You knelt down by the tub and placed your hand on my cheek. “I know you can, but just let me help, okay?” You kissed my forehead. “Just sit back and relax, Bradley. I’ll get you cleaned up.” 

I sighed and leaned back. “I just need help washing my back, baby. That’s it.”

You giggled, “Just take my help, babe.”

“But you’re already doing so much. And you are SO pregnant.”

You shook your head, “Don’t under estimate me, Bradshaw.” You narrowed your eyes at me.

Mine went wide. “Baby, I would never.”

You grabbed a cup and started to fill it with water to pour onto my hair. It felt so good. You started to massage my scalp with the shampoo and I nearly melted under your touch. I let out a little groan.

“You doing okay, baby? Am I hurting you?” You brought your lips to my ear since you were sitting behind me.

I shook my head, “No, sweetheart. It just feels really nice.” You continued to wash my hair and then you rinsed. You added the conditioner and continued to massage my head. When you started to wash my body you were so gentle. I just wanted to fall asleep in the tub. I didn’t want to get out. 

“You ready to get out, babe?” You smiled at me as you poured water onto me to keep me warm. 

“No, but I know I should get out.” I started to sit up. “Thank you for helping me, sweetheart.” 

You kissed my cheek and patted my face dry, “I’d do anything for you, Bradley.” 

You went and got the guys so they could help me out. After I dried off you help me put my clothes on. You re-bandaged my shoulder and clavicle and helped me into bed. You set up a couple of pillows to help keep me elevated. Mav came in with my medication for the night. While I took my medicine, you went to go and get ready for bed. 

“Leia is already down for bed. I put her down before bringing up his meds.” Mav smiled at you. 

You kissed his cheek and got into bed. “Thank you so much, Mav. Thank you for helping out today.” 

He winked at you and patted my leg, “I’ll see you all in the morning.”

I laid back and looked over at you. “Ready for bed?” 

You smiled and got comfortable, “I am. I’m going to sleep so much better knowing you’re here next to me.” You inched closer to me. 

“Come here. Baby.” I held my arm up and you nestled your self into my side.

“I love you, Bradley. Good night,”

“I love you, sweetheart. Good night.”

Your POV

You heard little mumbles coming from Bradley. You got up and looked at the clock. 1:30 AM. You thought that maybe he was in pain and was just trying to handle it. You sat up and placed your hand on his arm. 

“Baby. Do you need more medicine?”

He started to fidget under your hand. “Riot…. Riot I got you…”

Oh shit. You started to rub his arm. “Baby. Bradley.”

“Fuck….No….I’m sorry…” He started move his head side to side. 

“Bradley.” You turned your bed side light on. His eyes were squeezing and his hand balling into a fist. “Bradley. Honey. It’s okay baby.” You were rubbing his chest as he struggled in his sleep.

“PHOENIX!” He shot up hitting you with his shoulder. He was wincing at the pain he was in. He started to cry slightly as he held his clavicle and his chest. 

You held your hand over your mouth and scooted closer to him. You laid your head on his shoulder and comforted him. “Hey. Hey, I’m here. You cradled his head in your arms. “It’s okay, Bradley. You’re okay baby. Riot and Phoenix are okay.” 

He started to cry in your arms. “I’m so sorry baby. Did I hurt you?” 

You shook your head and cupped his cheeks in your hands. You had tears in your eyes. “No, Bradley. You didn’t hurt me. You don’t have to apologize. You’re okay my love. It’s going to be okay.” You scratched at his head and cradled him against you. “You’re okay baby. It was just a dream. They’re all okay.” You placed kisses on his head over and over again. “I’m here, Bradley. I love you. I promise you are okay.”

He held onto you as he started to calm down. He was still shaking slightly in your arms. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Shhhh.” You shushed him and comforted him. 

“Don’t apologize, baby. You’re okay. You are all safe, Bradley. I promise.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Babes! We are finally back 🥺 Thank you all for being so patient with me! I hope you are all doing well! Are you excited for Bradley to be back home? 🥹 I am! But he definitely has a long road ahead of him. #InDadlyWeTrust 🫶🏼 I'll see you in the next one, besties! 🫶🏼

The party crew is in the comments 🥳

#HI BECH IM BACK #His Little Girl Bradley Bradshaw x Reader #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw #Rooster #Top Gun Maverick #Top Gun #TGM Cast #Pete Maverick Mitchell #Jake Hangman Seresin #Natasha Phoenix Trace #Bradley Bradshaw x Reader #Bradley Bradshaw x You #Bradley Bradshaw Fanfiction #Bradley Bradshaw Fic #Rooster Bradshaw x Reader #Rooster Bradshaw x You #Rooster Bradshaw Fanfiction #Rooster Bradshaw Fic #Rooster x Reader #Rooster x You #Rooster Fanfiction #Rooster Fic #HLG #Roosterscockpit Originals #Milesdickpic #Bradshaw Twins #Bradshaw Boys #Dadley Dadshaw

[wannab-urs]

For the sleepover

Do me a favor

My baby boy, Dieter

Congratulations again babe! I love you!

Thank you bb I love you and I'm really excited about this fic

For the Record

Pairing: Record Shop Owner!Dieter x f!Reader

Summary: You go to a record store looking for something specific and end up on a date with the owner. 

Warnings/Content: Dieter Bravo being Dieter Bravo, excessive name dropping of bands I like, grungy Dieter wearing Doc Martens and covered in tattoos, reader going to a strangers house like an idiot, kissing, fingering, oral f!receiving, unprotected piv (this is not real life. Don’t be dumb), one tiny little ass slap, praise, creampie, no use of Y/N, WC: ~2900

Notes: Bravo Records is based on Grimey’s in Nashville, TN which you should absolutely visit if you get the chance. Unfortunately it isn’t owned by Dieter Bravo. Thank you @theywhowriteandknowthings for the beta read and the encouragement <;3

Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You’re on the hunt for a Replacements' album, Tim, specifically. Ironically, you’re replacing it in your collection, having lost it to your ex boyfriend. Note to self: never combine your record collection with anyone ever again. 

This morning you’d googled “record shops near me” and scrolled past Walmart and Target, no thank you, and settled on Bravo Records. The blurb advertised it as a “Laid-back music shop specializing in vintage, pressed recordings, CDs & cassette tapes,” and mentioned a bookstore in the basement and a consignment shop out back. 

Pulling into the gravel parking lot, you take in the building. There are murals depicting perfect recreations of album covers on the brick walls of the store. If you couldn’t see the brushstrokes when you got up close, you’d think they were somehow printed on. The bright yellow of Metallica’s 72 Seasons, the hands reaching for the sky on Boygenius’ The Record, both newer releases. But there’s also The Clash’s London Calling and The Stooges’ Fun House. 

Whoever owns this place has taste. You step into the shop, eyes immediately drawn to the oddly curved ceiling and the exposed brick walls, covered in posters and random paintings. There are 6 sets of shelves running almost the entire length of the store up to a small clearing in the back. There’s a surprisingly large stage beyond that, someone playing the guitar and reciting poetry, a smattering of people leaned against the shelves, listening. 

“Welcome to Bravo’s,” a deep but cheery voice rings in your ear. You let out a small yelp and turn sharply to face the source. “Oh! Didn’t mean to scare you. I was just downstairs and heard the door… I’m Dieter, by the way.”

You take in the man now standing in front of you. He’s wearing a very faded Nirvana shirt stretched within an inch of its life across his broad chest and shoulders. It probably used to be black, but now it’s a bit gray, and there are holes in the seams of the collar. His wide legged pants are black and flowy, you almost mistake them for a skirt until he leans against the counter and crosses his legs. His Docs are scuffed, clearly worn in, maybe vintage. You trail your eyes back up his body, noting the various tattoos on his hands and arms, all black ink and thick linework. You settle back on his face and find his eyebrows arched over deep brown eyes, plush lips in a pout. His beard is scruffy, patchy, and his hair looks like he just rolled out of bed. 

“Find anything you like?” He smirks at you and you suddenly realize you just silently checked him out for a good 10 seconds. Your cheeks heat and you clear your throat. 

“Um… I’m looking for Tim? The album I mean, not the guy, I don’t even know a Tim. By the Replacements? Do you know it?” You sound like an idiot oh god. 

He barely restrains a chuckle, mirth dancing in his eyes, “Yeah, I know it. I only have a first pressing in the original sleeve… is that okay?” He crosses his arms over his chest and holy shit. His biceps are huge. You bite your lip and nod. 

“Yes! Er… um. How much is it?” You wince. There’s no way it’s gonna fit in your pitifully small budget. 

Dieter tilts his head to the side and scrunches his eyebrows up, two lines forming between them. He brings a hand to his unruly hair and tugs. So that’s why he looks like he just got thoroughly fucked. He perks his head up suddenly, almost like he heard your thoughts.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” 

“What?”

“Oh! I mean go out for coffee with me and you can have the record.”

“I can’t just take it for free, Dieter!” 

“Of course you can. I’m the owner. It’s my record. Do you not want to go out with me?” His face scrunches up again and fuck. He’s really cute. 

“Of course I want to go out with you,” you splutter, shocking yourself. 

“It’s settled then. Let’s go!” He turns and walks out the door and you scramble to keep up with him. 

“Now? Don’t you have to run the shop?” 

“Nah, Chrissy can handle it,” he waves his hand like it’s no big deal and heads for the street. “It’s just right down the road.” 

–-

Coffee with Dieter is amazing. He orders a sweet monstrosity, frozen, topped with whipped cream and 3 kinds of syrup. You try to order your favorite drink, but he insists you get the same thing as him. 

“Just trust me!” You’ve literally just met the man, but you think you do trust him. There’s just something about him. He learns your name when you give it to the barista and you apologize profusely for being too flustered to properly introduce yourself. 

He just laughs and guides you to a pair of armchairs in the corner, kicking off his boots to reveal mismatched socks – one a dark purple tall sock with embroidered grapes on it, the other an ankle sock with a print of Starry Night on it – and settles cross legged into the chair. You tell him you like his socks. 

He asks you about what you do for work, where you’re from, what your favorite movies are, an endlessly easy and flowing conversation, peppering in his own answers and arguing with you when you tell him that Judd Apatow movie about making a movie during covid was awful. He asks you what your holy grail album is, the one you’d kill to have in your collection. You don’t even have to think about it.

“The Velvet Underground and Nico, original pressing, with the sticker still on it. I’ll never be able to afford it though. I’ve never even seen one in real life.”

“Do you want to?” He looks at you with a shit eating grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“What? Want to see one in real life? I mean… yeah?” 

“Let’s go then!” He jumps up, pulling his boots back on and heading for the door. You’re again hustling to keep up with him. You follow him out onto the sidewalk. 

“Dieter! Go where?” 

“To my house!” You grab his arm and pull him to a stop. 

“Why are we going to your house?” You’re exasperated.

“To show you the record. You wanted to see it right?” 

“You do not have it. Dieter, there’s no way… One of them just sold for 25k.”

“I do have it. My dad bought it when it came out and now it’s mine.” He takes off walking again, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him. 

“Is this some sort of ploy to get me to go home with you? You could have just asked.” 

“I know! I mean… fuck. I’m being serious. I have the record upstairs.” He suddenly comes to a stop in front of an apartment building. “If you want, you can wait here and I’ll bring it down. Just promise not to rob me, yeah?” You huff out a frustrated breath. 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll come in with you.” 

His face lights up and he threads his fingers through yours again. It feels nice, holding his hand. He pulls you up the stairs with him and unlocks his door, and you step into his living room. His apartment was clearly supposed to be one of those industrial chic, modern type spaces, but he clearly didn’t care for that style. There are paintings and posters covering every square inch of wall space. “I take it you decorated the shop then?” 

“Yep! I do all the murals too.” Fuck, he can paint too? The concrete floor is covered with rugs of all different shapes, sizes, and textures. There’s a blue couch and some clearly thrifted armchairs off to the left. The right side of the room is absolutely dominated by his record collection. There’s a shelf running the length of the room, standing taller than you and absolutely stuffed with records. On the floor around it are milk crates filled with even more records. 

“Jesus Christ, Dieter, how many records do you have?” You wander over to a crate and start flipping through, finding that he’s organized them by genre. This one is folk punk you notice as you flip through albums by AJJ, Violent Femmes, The Mountain Goats, and more. 

“I genuinely have no idea. I stopped counting back when I was a teenager.” He goes to the shelf, and you decide it must be more organized than it looks because he quickly pulls two albums out and presents them to you. One is the album you asked about in the shop. The other one… 

“Holy shit.” You stare up at him from your crouched position. “Holy fucking shit Dieter you actually have it.”

“I fuckin’ told you! Do you wanna listen to it?” 

“Do I want to listen to it? Are you actually kidding me? Of course I do!!” He grins at you and walks over to his record player beside the couch. He slides the record out of the sleeve gently and places it on the turntable before dropping the needle. You join him on the couch as the first notes of “Sunday Morning” drift into the room. 

“Dieter?” He hums and smiles at you again. “I could kiss you right now. Fuck. Can I kiss you right now?” He looks shocked for a second before taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back hard, licking into his mouth. He drags you into his lap, your knees settling on the outsides of his thighs. 

You bury your hands in his wild curls and gently tug on them. He groans into your mouth and trails his hands down your body, pulls you even tighter against him. You can feel him getting hard under you, his soft pants doing little to conceal his arousal. You’re not much better off as his lips leave yours and trail down your jaw, your throat, his teeth catching skin as he goes. When “I’m Waiting for the Man,” starts to play, Dieter brings his hands back to your face and pulls you away from him, staring deep into your eyes. 

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” 

You stare at him, shocked for a moment, and then you laugh so hard you fall sideways off his lap. “You know what, Dieter? Yes. I’d like to have sex with you.” 

“Cool,” he breathes out, turning and settling his body over yours. He presses another kiss to your lips and you tug on his shirt. He pulls back long enough to strip it off and you take yours off too. He lays sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your throat and chest, mumbling praises into your skin as he works your jeans and panties down your thighs. You kick them off as he makes his way down to your core. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been in your entire life. He’s so fucking gorgeous. All golden skin beautifully covered in black ink. 

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Dieter whispers into the space between your thighs. Your hands fly to his hair as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, immediately closing his lips around it and sucking lightly. Your head falls back and a moan rips from your throat. 

He presses a thick finger into you and it’s fucking bliss. He feels so good already. He curls his finger upwards, swirling his tongue in circles around your clit at the same time. Your hands drop to his shoulders as he adds another finger and starts thrusting them into you, curling on every upstroke into your g-spot. 

“Fuck! Dieter… feels so good. Don’t stop.” 

“Shhh baby, I can’t hear the song.” 

You dig your nails into his shoulders, laughing and on the verge of coming at the same time. He slips his tongue down to join his fingers at your entrance and buries his nose against your clit and you’re gone. The shaking of your body from laughing at him quickly gives over to shuddering as your core tightens around his fingers. You cry out, pure euphoria washing over your whole body. 

“That’s it baby. Fuck, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight. Look so pretty coming for me.” Dieter talks you through it until the haze of your orgasm fades. “Here or the bed?” 

“Here. Get in me. Now.” You grab at his hair, pulling his face back up to yours. You kiss your own slick off his lips hungrily as he clumsily shoves his pants down far enough for his cock to spring out. He slides it through your folds a few times before notching it at your entrance. 

You grab his hips and pull him into you, throwing your head back and arching your hips up into him. “Impatient.” He grumbles it into your neck, but thrusts himself into the hilt, clearly as desperate as you. He barely gives you a chance to adjust before he’s drawing back and thrusting into you again. His breath leaves him in a low growl that has a new gush of slick coating his cock. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him back into you every time he pulls out. His thrusts are shallow from this angle, but he’s slamming into you so hard it doesn’t matter. You slot your lips together, not really kissing, just breathing each other in. 

“Dieter, I’m gonna come again,” you can feel your walls tightening around him, drawing him deeper into you. He shifts his angle slightly so that his pelvis grinds against your clit every time his hips meet yours. Your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders, dragging down to his lower back as your whole body tightens and spasms around him. 

For a moment, as you catch your breath, you think your hearing must have gone out. Dieter is buried to the hilt inside you, torso pressed flush to yours, but you don’t hear the music anymore. “Want me to flip it to the B side?” Oh. He just fucked you for the entire A side of the track and he’s still not done. 

“Yeah sure,” you huff a laugh into his hair. He lifts up, presses a kiss to your lips and pulls out of you with a groan. Your cunt flutters around nothing, missing the feeling of him inside you already. You get a good look at his cock now – thick, uncut, drooling precum and covered in your release. He’s so pretty. 

 He flips the record to the B side and then pushes his pants down the rest of the way, leaving them in a black puddle on the floor. He grabs your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. “Thought I’d get a look at your B side too,” Dieter says and you can hear the smirk in his voice. 

“I think I hate you,” you mumble into the cushions. He just laughs and settles one knee on the couch, his other foot planted on the floor. He taps your ass cheek lightly.

“Up on your knees, pretty girl.” You shift to comply and he settles his hands on your hips, helping you up and burying his cock in you again in one smooth motion. 

“Fuck!” Your arms buckle and you drop to your elbows as he rails you. The new angle is so good it almost hurts. He uses his grip on your hips to pull you into every thrust, punching the breath out of you and turning your brain to mush. You couldn’t tell him what song is playing right now if your life depended on it. All you hear is your own strangled moans and the praises he’s crying out into the air. 

“So fucking beautiful. You’re so tight and wet, fuck. I’m gonna come baby. Can I come in your pretty pussy? Please?” You nearly come again at that. The thought of being full of him. 

“Yes! Yes! Dieter. Come in me. Need it. Please!” He buries himself inside you and stays there and you can actually feel his cock jump inside you, hot spurts of cum filling you up. He curls himself over your back and you both collapse into the couch. 

He rolls onto his side, pulling you with him and tucking your back to his chest. He doesn’t pull out of you, just tangles your legs together and wraps his arms around you. You both just lay there in a daze, listening to the rest of the album. When “European Son” fades out and the record starts clicking, Dieter finally slips his softened cock from you. He stands up and puts the record back in its sleeve, filing it back on the shelf. 

“If I go to the bathroom, will you still be here when I get back, or are you gonna steal my record and break my heart?” 

“Of course I’m gonna steal it,” you smile at him, still stretched out on the couch and not really planning on moving any time soon. He rolls his eyes, laughing at you and disappearing into the hallway. 

Maybe combining record collections isn’t completely off the table. If it’s with the right person. 

#gins1500sleepover #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo fics #Dieter Bravo fanfiction #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #The Bubble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction #dieter bravo x f!reader

[bennysmiller]

Sweet Nothing - Frankie Morales x Reader

You and the boys have a night in at Benny's place, and amongst the chaos during a movie night, you and Frankie manage to find some quiet.

"Beer?"

You look up from your place on the sofa to see Benny holding out a full bottle of beer.

Normally you'd accept, but alcohol made you sleepy and you had to keep your eyes open for the game of charades Santi had proposed to everyone five minutes earlier. You shook your head at Benny but offered a slight smile in return.

"You don't have to stay awake, doll. Always welcome to crash in my bed while we're all out here"

Benny knew. He always knew. But once again, you shook your head at his suggestion and promised him you were fine. But you weren't fine. You wanted nothing more to fall asleep in Benny's bed to the sound of your boys laughing in the front room. But you also wanted to be present. After their latest mission, you knew how important it was to spend as much time as possible together.

"Well, you know where it is if you need it." Said Benny, before moving on and offering the beer to his brother.

Ten minutes later, the game of charades had been abandoned and Santi decided to put a film on instead. You couldn't actually hear what was being said, because Benny and Santi were too busy arguing over what they thought was going to happen. Then Will joined in and you wished you had taken up Benny's offer to sleep instead.

You managed to get yourself up off of the sofa, and over to the kitchen for a glass of water. As you take sips, you can't help but stare at an equally tired Frankie. The way his curls poke out from under his cap, and the way his hand is resting underneath his shirt, just on his stomach. You began to wonder what it would feel like to put your hand there instead. Do it for him.

You mentally kicked yourself for thinking about Frankie like that. He'd been nothing but sweet and respectful to you since you had met. But every now and then, no matter how hard you tried to push them down, those thoughts would creep up.

"They're real fuckin stupid sometimes."

You looked up to see Frankie stood across from you with his hands on his hips. When did he get here? you thought to yourself. You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't see him get up.

You straightened up and put the glass down on the counter before agreeing with the man in front of you.

"I love them to bits but you're absolutely right." you said, earning a sigh from Frankie.

"I'm an old man now, just want peaceful nights in where I don't have to listen to a running commentary on whatever film we're trying to watch." He said, before taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair.

I could give you those kind of nights.

Before you realised what you had just said in your head, you jumped at the sound of a bottle smashing in the front room. Frankie rolled his eyes and chucked his cap on the table next to him.

"Too damn loud." He said, and ran a hand over his patchy beard. "Hey, you ever get those Taylor Swift tickets you wanted?"

You were about to turn around, but paused when he brought Taylor Swift up. It was something you had mentioned to him ages ago. You were both sat in a diner after a similar night with the guys, and needed to escape. So you sat and talked. All night. About anything and everything. You mentioned wanting to get tickets but didn't spend too long on the topic, so you went red when you realised Frankie truly was listening to you ramble on about them.

"Yeah, I did." You spoke quietly, but inside you were screaming. For so many beautiful reasons.

"Can I confess something? The night you mentioned those tickets, I went home and played a few of her songs. She's good."

"Seriously? You like her?" You asked excitedly. You wanted to die at the dimple that made an appearance on Frankie's face when he smiled at your enthusiasm that had suddenly shown up.

"Yeah," He chuckled. "You mentioned you loved Sweet Nothing. That's my song right now. I really am too soft for all of it."

He looked proud as fuck for slipping that lyric into the conversation, and also for how he'd clearly been studying your favourite artist.

You thought of the lyric outside they're push and shoving, you're in the kitchen humming and realised that perfectly described your situation with Frankie. Pure chaos in the front room with Santi, Benny, and Will, but the kitchen? You and Frankie found five minutes of peace in the kitchen. It was your place. You made the rules that night.

#Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales #Frankie Catfish Morales #Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier x Reader #Santiago Garcia #Will Miller #Benny Miller #Pedro Pascal #Charlie Hunnam #Oscar Isaac #Garrett Hedlund #Taylor Swift #Midnights #Sweet Nothing

[finniestoncrane]

Would you be willing to do an ABCs for Arkhamverse Scarecrow?

NSFW Alphabet

Arkham!Scarecrow Headcanons yeah fuck it anon i had nothing else going on at work when i decided to write this and it was fun to do! i love doing my own headcanons for arkham jonny because i think he's such a gothic-romantic boy and i love indulging myself lmao 🧡🎃 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: the whole thing is nsfw and it's jonathan so obviously some riskier kinks are mentioned

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

surprisingly tender and vulnerable, more because it's been a pretty big display of desires, trust, and emotions that he's not used to exhibiting. he'd rather you didn't dwell on that though, he doesn't need extensive aftercare, and he won't be giving it out either. but you are required to lay beside him, quietly, while he calibrates his thoughts. and maybe he'll hold your hand

B = Body part (favourite part of theirs and their partner’s)

he's very fond of a partner's neck. holding it, stroking it, squeezing it, licking it, biting it, breathing on it, nuzzling into it, pressing the needles of his gauntlet against it or into it, just admiring it. anything goes

for himself, he's fond of his hands. they're his instruments of destruction and pleasure, it's fascinating that a body part can do both, that it can bring pain and comfort, kill and give life. the dichotomy gets him going

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

he's not intrigued or aroused by his own cum, in fact he'd rather not deal with the mess usually (so he's cumming inside of you, mouth or entrance, dealer's choice) but he's weak for his partner's and will beg to taste it, to have it in his mouth, to feel it on his fingertips

D = Dirty Secret (something they keep hidden)

not that he isn't willing to be gentle or vulnerable with a partner, but he would prefer to keep under wraps just how much he enjoys being held. he feels it weakens the facade he's built up. but nothing satiates his every desire more than being the little spoon

E = Experience (how experienced are they in bed)

he's had sexual encounters before, not a huge amount, and none in recent years, so he's a bit rusty. but he's very willing and eager, passionate and romantic, and extremely experimental with very little boundaries or hang-ups

F = Favourite Position

anyway that he can be in as much physical contact with his partner as possible, but a preferred position would be on your side, curled around one another in either configuration so that you can hold or be held while inside

second to that is holding or pining you against a wall either facing him or not so you can't escape from his clutches, it gives him a sense of control that he finds very enticing

G = Goofy (are they serious in the moment?)

i don't think he's void of a sense of humour, but he's not necessarily the silliest or most whimsical guy out there. and for him, sex is a transaction of vulnerability and emotion, so he takes it very seriously

H = Hair (how well groomed are they?)

he's not groomed at all. his pubic hair is patchy at best, due to scarring on his abdomen and thighs and the pubic mound, but what he does have he doesn't bother trimming or shaving. it's scraggly and wild and it suits him perfectly

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

there's usually not many words uttered during intimate moments, very few sounds at all save for some growls and breathless whimpers, so he's not going to be showering you with praise or sentiments of adoration

but everything is in his touch, and the way he holds you, the moments where he leans back to look into your eyes, searching for a sign of consent to continue, that he isn't hurting you (or not hurting you enough), the way he holds himself back until you give him permission, is all very romantic

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

jonathan masturbates as a means of curing the urge. if you're not there, or if he doesn't have a partner at all, he will masturbate when he needs to, which isn't frequently. mostly at the height of excitement in plans or research or experimentation he might need to excuse himself to take care of things

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

fear play: if he can incorporate your phobias then that's kind of like exposure therapy, no?

medical roleplay: having you strapped to a chair and experimented on, touched and teased, edged and denied

sub/dom, abuse of authority: he enjoys being called doctor or professor or master and loves to abuse the power that comes with those titles in roleplay

pain: knives, needles, clamps, chains, whips, anything! you name it and he's willing to use it on you or have it used on him

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

jonathan will have sex anywhere, he's not particularly phased by any social implications. however, his preferred locations are always somewhere a little bit gross, a little bit risky, and a lot bit horrifying. in true goth fashion, he'll pick a graveyard or a pitch black alley or an abandoned building over a soft, warm bed

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

like everything else in his life, jonathan is motivated by adrenaline, whether produced by fear or anticipation or desperation. it's why he's into experimenting with risky or intense kinks, why he chooses places that send a shiver down your spine to romance you in, he is motivated by the nervous sweating, the uncertainty of danger, and the way your pupils dilate in terror before you cling to him for safety

N = NO (something they wouldn’t do)

he couldn't adopt a dynamic as a permanent state. if you're roleplaying or getting into some sub/dom stuff, it's only for the duration of the sexual or intimate encounter, after that yoe are both free to be yourself again

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving)

he loves giving and receiving!! when giving, he takes his time with a slow-paced and very attentive job. if he's receiving, he likes you to do the same. it feels more meaningful to him if it takes an hour to get to the end, and it's always more explosive if you've waited a while

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?

he's slow and sensual mostly, but he can be a bit rough if you're into that sort of thing and ask him, or beg him, nicely. he prefers a soft and tender touch laced with passion, a grip that is tight but only enough to let you know he wants you and needs you to a feral and animalistic display of desires

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex)

he's not completely opposed to the idea, but the build up is important to him. the rising heat between two bodies, the desperate clawing at someone's skin out of the compounding need to touch them, holding them in your arms for as long as you can before letting them succumb to their orgasm, that's how he likes it

R = Risk (are they game to experiment?)

isn't that the only way? listen. he's a scientist. he's used to experimenting. it's not like he's going to ignore the opportunity to do so in bed. kinks, positions, toys, partners, even some slightly less traditional things (like have you ever been fucked while you're clutching at your chest in sheer terror?) you name it, he's down to give it a try

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he's an old leathery man oh my god you're lucky to get once good session out of him. if he runs out of energy though, rest assured he would be more than happy to swap positions and let you take control, or at the very least, you're getting your orgasm one way or another, he might just have to use his other talents

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them?)

there's not much he wouldn't try, but his favourites tend to be anal themed. beads, vibrators, plugs, double edged dildos, he's into them all. vibrators don't necessarily do anything for him, the nerve damage he suffers from means he'd need something industrial powered to make him feel anything, but up inside of him, he's still sensitive

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he's an absolute bastard. teasing to him is part of the fun. the anticipation, especially with toys or more extreme kinks, the almost fear that dances in your eyes as you await his next move, wondering when he'll relent and just do whatever it is he's going to do to you

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

the noises he does make are low and raspy, almost silent. it's like he's whispering, definitely holding back. but he moans and whimpers softly depending on what's being done to him (or what he's doing) and he grunts from his throat when he gets close to his climax

W = Wild Card (a random headcanon)

he lost one testicle in the killer croc attack and never had an implant put in so he's kinda lopsided, and his cock has a large scar running down half the length, which makes for a very pleasant sensation

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

further to the above, jonathan's cock is skinny but long. it's a slightly paler colour than his skin, except for the head which has a pinky-purple hue. there's several icy blue veins that wrap around it, and i know he curves up don't argue

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not particularly high. which is probably down to his preference for the build up and the adrenaline that comes from tension. he'd be quite happy to live in stifling sexual tension forever, than have a satisfactory release, but he understands that some people need to orgasm or at least get railed, so when that need crops up for a partner, he's happy to oblige

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

this is the only time he ever sleeps, it's the only occasion where his body feels so properly rested and relaxed that he's able to drift off into a peaceful slumber, with nothing but thoughts of villainy and torture and horror playing merrily in his warped little mind

#finnie writes #batman #fanfic #scarecrow #jonathan crane #scarecrow imagine #scarecrow smut #scarecrow x reader #rogues gallery #batman rogues #scarecrow x you

[beanghostprincess]

Thinking about Shuggy and Shanks actually just being in love with Buggy’s nose. It’s the cutest thing. When he was a teen he first tried to hide his feelings for his friend and pulled some , sometimes quite literal, pigtails to annoy him, often pointing Buggy’s, self perceived, flaw out to him to drive him up the wall, but in all honesty he really likes it. The crew goes out drinking and someone makes a jab at Buggy’s nose and the place is just roaring with laughter as the boy stomps away from everything, while Shanks just half mumbles into his beer that he wears it actually quite well.

It’s one of the many things about Buggy that he knows are ugly. Or so he’s been told. He knows Buggy is funny looking, not only the nose, but his face that starts to get more square as he grows up, his awkward stubble that doesn't seem to want to grow into a full beard, the lips that stretch too wide across his face, the ears that protrude a little from his head, the list goes on. People have been pointing out those things to him all the time, often mocking, sometimes soothing, because looks aren’t all that matters and Buggy also has other physical features that could be considered quite handsome despite those features. Shanks has decided that those people are idiots, because there is nothing about the way that Buggy looks that he doesn’t like. Not that he can tell him that.

Because if he told Buggy one of the best things about his kisses is just how he always has to smoosh his Nose against Shanks face to get a good angle, how it’s so endearing when he miscalculates and has to try again after realizing that it got in the way, how he loves how his ears go red when he’s embarrassed or flustered and that he wants to plant kisses all over Buggy’s weird looking face, Buggy would think of it as a joke.

So he just settles on watching Buggy get ready in the morning, how he puts his hair up in a ponytail and is already complaining about upcoming tasks, till he catches Shanks gaze in the mirror. His mouth curls into a slight snarl as he turns around to Shanks, a bit of patchy stubble sill dotted across his chin, his nose crinkles slightly in dismay, but it can’t hide the hint of self-consciousness in his voice when he asks “What?”

“Nothing.” Shanks answers, hugging his pillow closer to himself as he rests his head on it, smiling at the clown. “You’re just looking handsome today is all.”

The last line,,, I am sobbing,,, This made my heart do so many fucking backflips I am shaking and crying and curling up on the floor.

Shanks literally loves everything about Buggy. He doesn't even understand why people say he's ugly, they just say it and he just assumes that they're either stupid or that beauty standards suck ass. Because to him, Buggy is the most gorgeous pirate he's ever seen. Ever since they were kids, he has always been fascinated with him. He's always found his face captivating, and while they grew up, he started to find his whole body captivating and gorgeous. He's so down bad and he does not want to get up, really. He wants to stare at Buggy for as long as Buggy lets him. When people laugh at Buggy for how he looks, Shanks always fights them. Or he goes away too to be with him because he despises the idea of leaving him alone. When they were kids, nobody in the crew took him seriously when he screamed at them. But now? That's the one thing you can't do around Red Haired Shanks. Do not disrespect Buggy. If a poor soul finds themselves unaware of that fact...... Pray for them.

He enjoys Buggy's beauty the way somebody would enjoy a piece of art. And it's quite funny how Buggy is usually so self-conscious about it and how much it bothers him that Shanks won't stop staring at him. But Shanks can't help it! He just feels at ease when he's looking at the clown. He reminds Shanks of when they were younger. He makes Shanks feel younger. And Shanks doubts there will ever be somebody that warms his heart as much as Buggy does.

#people literally come in here and leave masterpieces in my inbox huh #i love the way shanks loves buggy #it's so deep and so beautiful and it makes me want to cry every time #one piece #red haired shanks #buggy the clown #shuggy