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salbei-141 · 1 year

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Good girl, stay quiet for me (Emmett x reader) Part 2 to A second chance

Masterlist

Part 1 (A second chance)

word count: 2.8k

warnings: 18+, smut, age gap (reader is early 20s and Emmett is late 30s), masturbation, voyeurism, angst, fluff, praise kink, very very slight degradation kink

a/n: y’all i am so apologetic if this smut is unreadable, i don’t think i’ve ever written smut before, so forgive me if it’s too horrific lol

Anyway here’s part 2 of this 2-part series, enjoy!

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Shaking the memories off, you stared as Emmett was drawing one of his sons again - over the last few weeks with each other, you had opened up more about your past lives. One particular night though, you had been sharing a memory with Emmett as he listened intently, holding your body in his arms as he sometimes did now. You had been crying at whatever painful memory you were sharing when you felt his hand come to the side of your face, tilting it up and placing his lips upon yours. You hadn’t pulled away - you’d be lying to yourself if you had said you didn’t like how it felt, even though you knew the age gap between you both was morally wrong. His lips were slightly chapped as were yours - but there was a tenderness to how he handled you - your lips both matching a rhythm, it felt right. But just as things were heating up, he had pulled away, looking at anything but you - it broke your heart, was he playing with you? You wanted to cuss him out, and ask what was wrong but feared causing too much noise, so just let him go.

You just found yourself watching his back as he turned, collected his stuff and headed out of the hole you were in. What the fuck was that? How could he do something like that and then run with no explanation? You spent the rest of your night curled up on Emmett’s bed quietly crying to yourself, feeling so dejected as you realised you had slowly been developing feelings for the man you now shared your life with - how were you supposed to face him when he inevitably came back? Would he ask you to leave - realising he made a mistake?

Emmett had walked off, deciding to take watch up on the top floors of the building you now knew as home. He sat, hunting rifle at his side, staring out the shattered windows at the surrounding overgrown weeds. He wanted to scream at himself for what he’d let happen - it was selfish of him. He knew where you had come from and he wanted to protect you - what if you thought he was just as bad as the men before him? He’d been discreetly fawning over you the past few weeks and he knew exactly when he found himself thinking about you in the way that he was.

It was a couple of weeks into your stay with Emmett and he had gone on a small run for a few necessities - you had begged to go with him, but he had refused, and there was no way you could’ve convinced him. Instead of worrying about Emmett, you decided you could distract yourself - still keeping him in your thoughts. You had laid on his bed - which you now both shared and found yourself taking in his scent, relishing in it as you so often wished you could do. The day you met him you knew he was attractive, and the attraction to him had only grown since. You had countless restless nights, trying not to wake Emmett from his sleep as you’d feel a pool of wetness developing between your legs, aching for Emmett who lay peacefully next to you. On this particular day though, you allowed yourself to indulge in the fantasies you had been having of Emmett while no one was around.

Gently running your hand under your shirt and up to your chest, you placed your thumb and forefinger on your nipple - rolling it with tender pressure - letting a soft breath out at the thought of Emmett. You dreamed of how Emmett’s lips would feel on your breast - the sensitive buds being graced by the desperate sucking of his mouth. Not being able to tease yourself anymore, you moved your hand from your breasts to your neck, keeping a steady grip - only if it was Emmett’s hand - you felt feral, losing all sense of logic at the thought of the calloused caresses Emmett’s hands could provide. With your other hand, you trailed it down your stomach, reaching the band of your underwear, letting a soft whine out. Pushing beneath the band of your underwear, you glided your finger over your clit - your whole body was so sensitive - it had been so long since you’d been able to feel pleasure. Rubbing your clit in gentle circles, your mind was still focused on Emmett and how he’d feel between your legs. Trying to keep as quiet as you could - only letting the softest of moans escape your lips, you sped up, feeling as the heat in your abdomen intensified. Removing your fingers from your clit, you inserted them inside yourself, feeling the way your walls throbbed with a dire need to be filled by Emmett. As you effortlessly pumped in and out of yourself, hearing the way your pussy would squelch as your fingers continuously worked it - you could hear it echoing within the small room you were in and a part of you wished Emmett had been here to witness it. With a few more pumps of your fingers, you felt the coil in your abdomen tightening up and with one more push, and a quiet moan of Emmett’s name, you felt the coil snap as your orgasm rolled over your body, causing your thighs to tremble as you whimpered at the loss of your fingers, still not feeling like you had been full enough, to begin with. Letting out a final quiet breathy moan, you rolled onto your side and made quick action at cleaning yourself, and bringing your heart rate down to normal before Emmett would be back. However, unbeknownst to you, Emmett had heard your breathy moans as he was about to slide back into the pipe. Instead, he had found himself growing hard in his trousers - trying to keep himself at bay, feeling like he had intruded upon you, but he was entranced by your sinful sounds and couldn’t move. The moment he had heard your quiet moaning of his name, however, he had lost all control and found himself pulling his cock - leaking with precum - out of his trousers. He gripped his cock pumping it with his hand, managing to keep his grunting to himself - avoiding alerting anything potentially around them. He continued this until he felt the pleasure in himself building and with a final pump, hearing as you started to move about with quiet, fastened breaths he had cum onto the floor beneath him, keeping his breathing steady as he put himself back in his trousers. Deciding an appropriate amount of time before he went back down, he realised how much of an issue this was about to become.

It had been a few hours now since Emmett had left to watch over the abandoned train station you were kept up in, and minute by minute it dawned on him just how much of an asshole he was. You had kissed him back - you clearly felt something for him, and he had just stood and left you without looking back once. He was hardly acting like an adult right now, and he needed to check up on you - he cared for you, a lot.

Treading cautiously back to you, he found your body curled up in the bed you now shared - you were lying on his side with the blanket pulled right up to your chin. As he walked forward, he saw the dried tears you had quietly cried as he had left you temporarily, and his heart broke. How could he hurt you like this? You didn’t deserve to feel such pain, and he was damned if he was about to let you go any longer not hearing from him.

Feeling as the bed dipped and someone started gently stroking your hair, you stirred from the nap you were having and opened your eyes, meeting Emmett’s gaze. He looked guilty, and a part of you was glad, but it also made you feel bad seeing him like this.

“Can we talk?” his tone was weary, he wasn’t sure how you were feeling and didn’t want to further cross any boundaries.

Sitting up, you gave a quiet reply, sleep still tangled with your mind, “Of course.”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve being treated like that and - ...and I don’t regret kissing you one bit,” he stared directly into your eyes, a sudden heat spread throughout your body at the small confession, “but I understand if you don’t want this to happen again - you’re a lot younger, and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t back out if you regret this, I shouldn’t have been so selfish in my desires, I’m sorry.” A sudden feeling of vulnerability overcame Emmett, and he couldn’t bring himself to hold eye contact with you anymore - instead looking at the wall.

Staring at his form, you decided to ask, “And if I don’t want this to continue, will I have to leave?”, you weren’t serious, but you wanted to know.

Snapping his head back to you, his eyes were wide - did you believe he’d let you just go back out alone? “No of course not y/n. You’re staying here with me, and that’s final. I’m not letting you out of my sight ever, as long as I can see you, I know you’re as safe as you can be, and I couldn’t give that up.”

You raised your hand, placing it on his cheek, feeling as he leaned into your touch, “Well it’s okay because I don’t think I’d ever want to leave you, Emmett.” Emmett’s eyes flittered back up to your own as you continued, “I care about you a lot Emmett, this is the first time since...since Dad that I’ve felt genuinely safe, and I couldn’t think of anything more painful than not continuing whatever this is with you.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, and any worries that were once present had now dissipated into thin air - it was just the both of you now. His lips were back on yours again, and this time they were more fervent than before. Letting out a quiet moan of shock, you reciprocated quickly, moving your own lips to join in a passionate kiss. Callous hands pawed at the sides of your waist - he couldn’t hide his desperation as he gently bit down on your lip, causing you to let out a soft gasp, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth - both fighting for dominance, until you inevitably lost and you felt his grip tighten. Pulling back for air, the both of you lay your foreheads against each other.

“Are you sure you want this?” Emmett wanted you - it was clear as his cock had started to harden in his trousers.

Without another word, you pulled him back into a kiss, slowly rubbing at his cock through his trousers - you had been dreaming of this for weeks, desperate to be filled by him. Feeling a growing wetness pool in your pants, you pulled your shirt over your head, breaking the kiss and feeling Emmett’s eyes hungrily staring at your exposed body. Pushing you back onto the bed, Emmet laid above your body. Bending close to your ear he whispered, “Be a good girl and stay quiet for me, yeah? Can you do that for me darlin’?” Your pussy clenched at his words, you didn’t think his voice could have that much of an effect on you, but you were glad to have been proven wrong. Moving back to your lips, he moved to your neck, trailing small love bites down to your chest, making you let out quiet breaths - being careful to not make too much sound. Bringing one of his hands to your breast, he massaged it gently as his mouth came down to suck on your unattended nipple. Biting down on your lip, you started to feel yourself grow desperate to feel him inside of you - you couldn't handle any more foreplay, you needed him.

“mmm please” you quietly moaned out, cautious not to break your one rule.

“What was that darlin'? Use your words like a good girl.” his hand had dipped beneath the waistband of your trousers and into your pants as he lazily circled your clit, drawing out the smallest of whines from you. His cock was straining painfully against his jeans, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could deal with it.

“Please I need you in me, I can’t wait anymore, please” He couldn’t deny your pleas - you sounded so desperate and pretty.

Pulling your trousers off in a singular swift motion, he placed gentle kisses on the insides of your thighs, teasing you before he pulled your underwear off and flung them onto the floor. Sitting back up, Emmett admired your naked body beneath him as he sat fully clothed still - you were beautiful, how had he got so lucky to have you? Before you could whine anymore, Emmett ripped his own clothes off, pressing his lips to yours to silence you.

Gently lining his cock up with your pussy, he gently pushed his way in - noticing the way your face contorted in pain.

“I’m sorry darlin’, you tell me to stop if it’s too much. You’re such a good girl taking me so far though, such a good slut for me.” his gentle degradation and care for your wellbeing had your pussy clenching around him already as you were suppressing desperate moans.

“no it’s okay, keep going, feels good, just hurts a little - I can take it” You looked up and him doe-eyed and it took everything in him not to slam into your tight pussy and have you panting for air.

Pushing himself further, he whispered gentle praises into your ear until he was buried inside of you. Stilling himself, he checked if you were okay, and the moment you reassured him, he was pulling back out, before he’d push back into you with military-grade-like precision. Trying to suppress his own grunts, he placed a hand over your mouth to suppress the lewd sounds that came from your mouth.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, taking me so well, fuck.” continuing to pump into you, Emmett could feel the tension in his abdomen starting to tighten as the lewd squelching of your pussy echoed in the small room.

“I don’t know how much longer I can go darlin’ you feel too good”

“s’okay, can I touch myself please, I need it” Your desperation and asking for permission almost pushed him over the edge. With a nod of his head, Emmett admired as you placed one hand between the both of you and started circling your clit as he continued to penetrate your pussy. Unable to control the subtle whimpers, you could feel your orgasm building in your stomach - circling your clit faster as Emmett placed his lips back onto yours.

With a final pump, your orgasm overwhelmed your body and your thighs shook against Emmett as he let you ride your orgasm out on him - you felt cock-drunk cumming over his cock as he praised you through your orgasm. As your walls continued to spasm, Emmett pulled himself out of you, hearing your quiet whimper of displeasure at the loss of fullness, and he continued to pump himself until he came on your stomach with a quiet grunt that had your pussy clenching around nothing.

Getting ready to clean yourself up, Emmett pushed your body back down and without saying a word went to get a cloth that he soaked in water and came back to clean you from his cum.

Smiling up at him, you stared as he came back to lay next to you, still not sharing any words, just being pulled into his chest, and basking in each other’s comfort, not needing to talk just yet.

Letting out a breath, Emmett tilted his face to look into your eyes, “I hope that was good enough to make up for earlier”.

“Yeah, it was. Better than good, thank you.” Nuzzling into his chest, you could feel your eyes growing heavy, feeling safe in Emmett’s arms.

“Go to sleep pretty girl, you deserve it.” Giving your forehead a peck, Emmett pulled the both of you down further into the bed, watching as you closed your eyes until your breathing evened out. Smiling at your relaxed, sleeping state, he whispered an “I love you” into your hair - his confession falling on deaf ears, feeling himself relaxing enough to fall asleep intertwined with your sleeping figure.

#emmett x reader #emmett a quiet place #emmett x reader a quiet place #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #a quiet place #a quiet place 2 #cillian x fem!reader #cillian fluff #fem reader #x female reader #love confession #angst #x reader #y/n #cillian murphy x y/n

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unexpectedbrickattack · 8 months

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old. man. yaois.

tiny gnome has very good senses and smells everything so much and so strongly. help him.

actually. going to keep this contained in the post and not in the tags bc its kink stuff and i think it should stay behind a readmore oop

spreading the 'old man engages in freak behavior' agenda...its not even freak behavior it is so tame for other shit i am writing w them LMAO musk is like whatever. its WHATEVER ! (its good) but my homebrew gnomes are based off of rodents and they have heightened senses of smell and hearing because of it and i think it is so funny to give my fave characters the most benign, yet debilitating kinks. Like bro im fine dw also u need to not be right next to me bc im going to go feral and i dont have it in my soul to explain why

i think its sooooo silly to have him already devote so much of his time to peppino and this business and now hes like god. what is that stickman meme picture of someone gripping their leg so hard its bleeding? thats gus hes like in his own hell. i think i wrote it before that peppino is sooooo aware of like. being a sweaty man and it makes him uncomfortable and he tries to avoid it but its like an inevitable facet of life and he deals w it the best he can. hes not smelly hes sweaty n musky and so working in the back w a hot oven means he ends his shifts absolutely drenched and miserable.

and gus is like👁️👁️ but hes a respectable man (tm) and he doesnt openly gawk n fawn. But. He is not shameless; he absolutely steals a shirt or two when he can and works w that for a while. he steals a shirt, keeps it, then rotates it w another shirt and when peppino is like WAA! My shirt !!! where did u disappear to??? Gus has to pretend he didnt snatch it away for like a month like the squirrel he is.

it (the thieving) would start before they get together and he would get caught a little while after they get together. like hey. not that i think that you think im stupid. but um. for like two years my shirts would disappear when u came over. like. after a couple of months it stops being a coincidence. so like. explain urself maybe?? and its definitely like a New feeling for gus, who is generally regarded as a dom (albeit a sweet one) to feel bashful about this but like in timid way that doesnt usually come naturally to him LOL. and i like the idea of peppino being an anxious little freak about soooo many things including sex, but when he gets more comfy w someone hes way more of a dick and blunt asshole (affectionate) and he absolutely would bully gus about this.

okay thats all i got just imagine my vision of gus and his little tail shooting straight up bc hes huffing this fucking shirt before he passes out for the night okay? and avoiding brick the next day bc beast to beast communication is real, okay? for me? thank u ....

#arts #mine #suggestive #saucy #NOT putting this in any tags omg but i hope the readmore is enough to scare ppl off #okay byee #runs away cutely and trips over a rock #i have some other backlog stuff to upload but ill do that later or somethin #also i wrote a fucking essay. im NOT checking grammar in that mess #if u engage in my ridiculous mind rambles u need to engage in the chaos of it all #okay love u

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abiiors · 8 months

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cherry 🍒 - snippet

THIS IS SO HORNY YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. not proofread either, i refuse to read this again

there’s a rot in his brain, gnawing at his neurons and eating through the organ until everything is replaced by a single image of her sucking on the end of her pencil absentmindedly. ross has been through this scenario a dozen times now. it was fine when he was busy, staving the thought away by replacing it with work related things.

a million things he’s got on his schedule…

but in the comfort of his home, his bedroom, he can’t stop picturing the hollow of her throat—delicate and unmarred skin in direct contrast to her dress, her voice calling him sir. god, she’d even looked at him like a fucking fawn—all wide-eyed and flustered. how he would have loved to trace his finger over her bottom lip right then, if only to steal a sweet sound of surprise right out of her.

he’s going straight to hell for this, straight to the fiery pits for doing what he’s about to do.

ross props himself up on the pillows, delaying the inevitable, or trying to at least. but the ache in him won’t subside, the throbbing between his legs, the dizziness as all his blood rushes south. the tent in his joggers taunting him as if he were a teenager in heat. he groans. the sound echoes around the room.

shame courses through him, already overshadowed by the heat that flows through his veins at the speed of lightning.

he needs to stop thinking about her, this girl who he has barely said two words to. maybe this is how he gets her out of his system. instinctively, his hand creeps towards his thighs.

he wastes no time dipping a hand in his pants, the other arm supports his head; nothing he hasn’t done a million times since he hit puberty. somehow this feels more electric than ever before.

ross palms himself, eyes fluttering close and muscles pulled taut. he’s aware of everything—from the stretch of his soft cotton t-shirt against his skin, to his head touching the bedframe. he needs to keep what little sanity he has left, trying to sort through all the depraved and deviant thoughts racing through his mind. what would she have done if she could read his thoughts, if she could see him like this—a mess at her mercy? would she kneel down and crawl towards him, hunger clearly written all over her face, her big eyes hooded with lust.

ross groans loudly, letting out a string of curses, imagining that it’s her hand wrapped around him—small and inexperienced. stroking him up and down with unsurely; long, tentative, languid strokes making his head swim with deluded thoughts.

his cock is painfully hard. ross knows for a fact that he’s never wanted to fuck someone with this intensity before, never before has his brain reverted to its most basic instinct like this.

thoughts of taking her all over his house makes him fuck his fist faster and faster. gone are the gentle, sensual strokes from before, now his hips buck as he thrusts into his hand. his mind plays a slideshow of made up images—her bent over on his kitchen island, the marble biting into her hips as he pounds into her. he would speak the dirtiest and filthiest words to her as he watches her squirming with want; her pussy swollen and wet. his brain conjoures up the phantom feel of her silky traces between his fingers, gripped tightly in his hands.

ross chokes out a gasp that turns into a broken moan.

this is wrong, this is so wrong and sinful and every other synonym there is for it yet his mind refuses to move on from her. rather, it conjures up more images—her jaw slack with pleasure, eyes rolled back in her head as she rides him at her own pace, figuring it out along the way. he would flip her at the last second, of course, looming over her, a dominating presence, wrenching another orgasm from her after she’s already cum on his tounge, his hand, his stomach. but she would let go for him again. she would do anything to be his good girl.

his pumps grow rougher and more erratic, gasps leaving his mouth, echoing around the room.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

ross wonders if she’s doing the exact same thing he is, hand buried between her thighs, his name spilling out from her perfect lips. he wonders if that would absolve him of his guilt, his shameless act. it’s the thought of her soft sounds that tips him over the edge until he cums so hard, his vision goes black.

his strokes slow down, back to slow and sensual as he watches his release flow out of him; milky white ropes splashed on his stomach, on his thigh. his hand is a mess, the tissue he had tried to grab at the last second is nowhere near enough to contain all of it.

with her, ross wouldn’t need any of that. he would fill her up with his cum, fucking it into her, watching it drip out of her mixed with her own release, making a mess of her thighs that he could clean with his tongue.

fuck it. he was damned already. he might as well enjoy the ride.

somewhere in this city, she has no clue about all the dark and sinful things ross wants to do to her. and maybe he could get her out of his mind now, have her out of his system.

he could just as easily fuck someone tomorrow. and someone else the day after.

yes. yes, that’s what he should do. he should forget about the girl he’s known for less than twenty-four hours. that’s what he should do.

until she shows up at the studio the morning after.

#minors dni #ross macdonald #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald x you #ross x reader #ross x you #ross macdonald smut #smut #the 1975 #the 1975 smut

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joeytime · 3 months

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Maxiel Hogwarts Au...

If you asked Max what he thought of Hogwarts, he would likely make a joke about pigs and insult their quidditch teams.

He isn't sure it's smart to do that now, in the middle of the Hogwarts' grand hall, completely surrounded by Hogwarts' students and staff. He isn't sure he could escape even if he had his broom.

"Wow, you really hate Hogwarts." The dreaded hat says atop his hair.

Shut up! Max thinks furiously at it. Get out of my head!

Everyone stares intensely at Max, not daring to breathe while the fate of the member of the national quidditch team is being decided. Even the teachers are at the edge of their seats, other than Dumbledore, he seems to know where Max will inevitably end up.

"Little quidditch champion. Everyone is expecting" The hat says, as if it's life of forever moving from head to head to call one of four words is somehow a greater destiny than Max's.

It's not. Max knows he will go on to succeed in life, and win as many quidditch championships as he wants and then retire on an island in The Maldives with a butt load of cash while the hat is left in a dusty room, waiting for it's yearly use. Max wants to reach to rip it up but it would not be wise to do so in front of Dumbledore himself. His hands stay in his lap, frown etched on his face.

"Impatient. Immature." Max's fingers twitch slightly. There is only so much backtalk one can take from a hat.

"Violent and uncaring, wherever will I put you?" Max doesn't agree with that description, he cares plenty, about winning that is.

"Foolish. Foolish boy." It doesn't hurt, Max has heard those words plenty of times.

Max sulks.

It's a beat of silence before the suspense reaches its climax. "Hufflepuff! " The hat hollers, not bothering to consult Max on it's decision. Which is very rude and impolite.

The entire room erupts into chaos, screams of "What! " and "No way! No way!" echo throughout the hall.

Max can't help but agree, he thought he might end up in Gryffindor or Slytherin, maybe Ravenclaw if he was super unlucky. But Hufflepuff? His father was going to disown him. The media are going to have a field day. Well they were going to already, regardless of which house Max was put in.

Dumbledore moves to pull the hat off of Max, the treacherous thing whispers one last time: "Things will make sense in time. Be patient. Do not mope."

Max doesn't mope. Verstappens can't mope, so he doesn't.

Dumbledore gently guides a slightly speechless Max to the Hufflepuff table, pushing him into the seat before winking and walking off.

Max wants to burn down this school.

Cheers erupt from the Hufflepuff table, hands coming to pat him on the back and fawn over him.

The other tables seem miserable at the prospect of losing out on a quidditch champion.

"Oh my god! Hi! Hi! Oh my god! It's you!" A boy excitedly chatters to his left, other students crowd around him and Max suddenly finds that he can't breathe. It's like he's small again, after being knocked off his broom by an overly excited big kid. He had fallen to the ground, too exhausted and overwhelmed to get back up.

His father had been mad, really mad. He hadn't slept well again after that.

"Guys! Guys! He doesn't look so good. " Whoever that is, is definitely right, Max can hardly breathe, he tries to use the breathing technique his father taught him after his first match, control his breathing. It doesn't work, it only causes the panic and urgency in his veins to surge. It did work, it's purpose was to put him on guard, not calm down.

He curls into himself, hands around his ears to protect from the deafening sound of crowds cheering. His bubble of personal space is of course pried and poked at. Fans never had any self awareness when it came to these matters and his father never did have sympathy for personal space.

Hands are pried away from him, he can hear outraged screeching at the action. His own quidditch team's screams when he was 6 years old and pulled away to join the older kids. They thought it wasn't fair that a small boy climbed the ranks faster than they did.

"Hey! Hey! Everyone back up right now!" The entire opposing team bombarding him in an attempt to stop him. The referee's reprimand that fell on deaf ears.

The people at his sides are replaced and gentle hands hold him back up, out of the ball he curled himself into.

Max doesn't dare look up, too afraid at the thought of seeing his father's judgemental look.

"Hey, are you okay? " Max turns his head, soft, gentle, warm eyes, concerned. Jos was never concerned, he was the uncaring one! Not Max!

"I'm fine. " A repeated response, practiced again and again every time he came home to his mother.

The teen with the soft eyes gestures for another boy to sit on Max's other side. The boy opposite Max looks on in concern.

"Hello. I'm Daniel Riccardo, I'm a prefect of Hufflepuff, it's nice to meet you." The gentle boy says, eyes still filled with concern.

"Max Verstappen. " Max manages to choke out.

"The boy on your left is Yuki Tsunoda and that's Lando Norris." Daniel gestures to the boy sitting opposite Max, who waves shyly.

The ruckus Max's sorting caused calms down and everyone settles down to listen to Dumbledore's welcome back speech which luckily does not mention Max.

Max feels strange between Riccardo and Tsunoda, like dread wrapped in false cotton. Norris also peers at him from time to time, creep.

They're sent back to their dorms. Max tells Riccardo that he can get there on his own but the older boy frowns and insists that he takes Max. Max thinks his father would be disappointed at his complacency but he doesn't have the strength to fight it.

Riccardo leads him to the kitchen, Max wants to snap some insult about him being a goody two shoes and how this is none of his business. He holds his tongue.

Riccardo gestures to a specific barrel, looking more worn out than the ones around it. He taps a certain beat, perhaps it's a secret code. That's childish, Max decides, they are not children playing in a fort.

The barrel swings open.

Max grimaces at the small tunnel.

"Here, you try tapping it." Riccardo puts Max's hand to the barrel.

Max repeats the rhythm perfectly. Memory exercises were part of his training.

Once Riccardo is satisfied, he points at the tunnel, almost as if he wants Max to crawl through it.

Max scrunches his nose, seriously? The older boy points more urgently and Max relents, shoving himself through the tunnel.

Well, not shoving, he's not really big, a fact his father loathed, putting him on diets with large sums of proteins and even attempting to use transfiguration spells before it was put to a stop by his mother.

Max wished his mother had not stopped his father. Maybe he would have an excuse not to join this god forsaken house.

It's an agonizing 5 second crawl before he pops out the other end right in front of Lando Norris, the boy before.

Daniel appears behind him, putting a hand on Max's shoulder.

"So Max, this is the Hufflepuff house. You know Yuki and Lando. That's Oscar, Nico and Valtteri." Riccardo urges the boys to come forward.

"It's Verstappen. " Max declares, Riccardo quirks an eyebrow and the rest of the boys look equally confused.

"Hi! I'm Lando! I'm like a huge fan, do you mind signing this for me? " The boy's yellow robes are somehow orange.

Max's PR training kicks in and he smiles one of those sickly sweet smiles that his father loves to wipe off his face before ordering him to smile again. His posture straightens and he reaches a hand around the younger boy's shoulders, patting him on his back once, twice. Just like he rehearsed.

"Sure! " His tone is so obviously a faux sweet as he reaches to retrieve the black marker from his back pocket. The boy has stars in his eyes and Max feels guilty, he always does. He's a fraud.

He signs the hat from his national team, the one he left behind.

He wishes he didn't.

"Hey, are you okay Max? " Riccardo asks, looking weird again.

"I'm doing great, how are you? " His PR trainer said asking back these questions were endearing, cute. Max's father had mocked him for that act, his trainer had been fired after that.

"How about I bring you to your room? Would you like that?" Riccardo asks, Max smiles again, nodding.

"Sure." Norris waves enthusiastically as Riccardo leads him out of the common room and into his private room.

"Are you alright? Max?"

"Call me Verstappen."

"Verstappen. Are you alright?"

"You can go, Riccardo. "

"... Call if you need anything."

When the prefect leaves, Max wants nothing but to burst into tears. He flops onto the bed.

The next day he drags himself out of bed. Even if classes don't start till 9 and the sun hasn't risen yet.

Jos expected him to continue his strict training regime. He was almost tempted to skip it and lie to his father but he thought he better not after his humiliating sorting from yesterday.

Now, alone, Max can see the Hufflepuff room properly. It's... It's all gentle lighting, none of the bright fluorescent lights his room had. The chairs looked comfy and the many plants lazing around the common room tempts him to join them.

Perhaps that would be a better fate, turning into a plant to live the rest of his life in the common room. His hand lingers on his wand, mind on a spell his professor taught him when he was just 9. He didn't.

When he had crawled out of the Hufflepuff room, fully dressed, broom in hand, the sun was just peaking from the horizon.

The halls are empty, some portraits mutter as he walks by. His father's portraits never moved, other than those instructed to. For example, a painter that never stopped moving his brush or a surfer never to take a break from the sea.

Making his way to the Hogwarts field, he stretched, slow and patient. His bones crack from the exhausting day he had before.

The field is decent sized, not as big as the one he played in during national championships, bigger than the one his father made him run laps around till he fainted.

He glides through the air easily, flying comes easily to him. If he were to be given his own time and freedom he thinks he would likely still be a top player in the school leagues.

It's better that he was hurled up though. Better to have reached the top by sheer force of his father's training.

He thinks about his national team, he's a reserve, too young to play officially but the team has him in some practices and he attends smaller competitions for them. Max suspects it's more about having a claim on Max when he comes of age.

He's 15, he still has 3 years to choose which team he wants to go to. By then, he will make his own choice. He will not do whatever pleases his father anymore.

The golden snitch twinkles near the end of the field. Max pretends not to see it.

It is fun, sometimes, tricking the golden snitch, allowing it a false sense of security. Like a tiger cub playing with a cricket.

His father would get mad at him if he did it for too long, he was upset his son couldn't catch it at once. Which Max could, he just didn't see the fun of it.

The fluttering golden ball is in his hands before it can even think of escaping.

Max briefly wonders if the snitch can possibly think, he lets it flutter away, repeating his game once again.

In the golden light of the sun and shaded path of the clouds, the wind whizzes past his ears, he falls into the familiar rhythm of flying, sometimes he makes his own obstacle courses, weaving through imaginary hoops.

By the time the sun reveals itself fully to watch Max fly, he realizes that a crowd has gathered around under him, star-struck Hogwarts students watching, mouths open and everything.

He flushes slightly, he may have had many adoring fans due to his membership in the national team and young age but come on! These were his peers.

Max lowers down, checking his watch to see that it is indeed 8.30am and he has to run if he wants to get to class not drenched in sweat.

He waves slightly to the crowd, zipping to the house dorm even though he's probably breaking several school rules.

He knocks the tune and enters quickly, still high from the adrenaline of flying.

He climbs out of the tunnel only to come face to face with Daniel Riccardo, his face stern and stony.

"Verstappen! You can't just sneak out like that!" Daniel's expression softens when he sees Max.

Max knows he feels pity even if Riccardo knows nothing about his life.

"I of course did not sneak out, I left my room and went to the field." Max doesn't think early hour training counts as sneaking out, going to parties in the dead of the night is sneaking out.

"Max, we were worried. I went into your room and you weren't there. Thought you'd been kidnapped by the other houses to play quidditch for them or something... "

Max considers this briefly, Riccardo knocking on his door gleefully, freezing when he doesn't get an answer. Did his blood pressure spike? Did he throw Max's door open in desperation only to find the room empty?

Max grimaces.

"I went to go training... Sorry..." Max stands awkwardly, hands by his side like a child being punished by a parent.

Riccardo sighs. Max wants to cry.

"Please forgive me, I'm of course sorry, I will do anything!" Max cringes inside, begging with someone other than his father is a foreign concept.

Riccardo has a cheeky smile on his face, Max is almost scared.

"I'll forgive you... Only if you call me Daniel!"

Max groans inwardly, well he's also partly relieved but Daniel doesn't need to know that.

"What will it be Max? Will you call me the d word? Or will you suffer in my never ending spite! "Daniel's grin grows.

" Fine. "

" Fine, who? "

"Fine. Daniel."

Max flushes, weird.

Daniel looks elated.

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simonssniper · 1 year

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Dilf! Priest Simon x Reader 1/?

WC : 1,382k

CW: Fem Reader, Creampies, Dacryphilia, Spanking, Face slapping, Rough! Simon, Sacrilege (they fuck in a church), Catholic Priest Simon, Age Gap, Reader is 19, Simon is 38, Corruption, Degradation, Humiliation, Overstimulation, Hair pulling. 18+ MDNI.

The usually filled pews of St. Christopher's Angel's Church were deserted. After all, it was a Monday evening, and the hymns of the choir no longer filled the air. But in its place, according to Simon, was a much sweeter melody—your sweet moans. Followed by the unmistakable slapping of skin, his against yours. No other harmony could ever compare to this. And even still, he wonders how he got here. Yet some part of him knows that this was inevitable; he had entered a losing battle from the minute he saw you. Sly exchanged looks of desire, and building tension can only go on for so long before someone cracks, and Simon was in pieces.

His usual gentle voice sinks into a menacing, stern tone. "This is what happens when you tease. When you look at me like a whore begging for my cock during mass, when you should be focusing on bible verses instead," and the vulgar words accompanied by a rough hand coming down on the flesh of your ass have you keening against him. A chorus of yesyesyes barely being able to escape alongside your desperate mewls and gasps. You never thought something so unholy could feel this divine.

You'd be a liar if you said you hadn't fantasized about this specifically, and on multiple occasions. And him being sinfully gorgeous didn't help one bit. Slicked-back blonde hair, a defined jaw littered with stubble, his towering height and muscles, the accent...it was no surprise that the other sisters tended to fawn over him as well. The church's golden boy was generally loved. Your feelings only escalated further when you noticed the kindhearted priest's ring finger was empty. You knew you had to get closer. Even if you couldn't have him the way you wanted, at least you'd still know him, right? Maybe you'd be satisfied with that—at least, that's what you told yourself in the beginning.

The respected head priest , a saintly missionary. Had been reduced to nothing but a man who was unable to resist one of his more carnal and frowned upon desires, lust. A sin said to be one of the greatest downfalls of men, and he knows it's true because you are the undoing of him. You’re fat hips are pushing pack to meet his cruel thrusts with vigor, and he knows he’s supposed to be a man of God, a role model who teaches the holy texts. But with the way your walls are strangling his cock, he thinks he’d rather be reborn into a lifetime of sin for a millennia if this is how delicious it was. And this had only been a small taste, a tiny indulgence on the long list of vile things that he wanted to do to your sweet, pliant body.

Simon knows he should feel ashamed, and on some level he does. For goodness' sake, he was supposed to be an important role model, especially for the youth of the church. But instead he was defiling one of them—a sister he occasionally counseled in the holiest of places. More specifically, he had her spread out on the altar. If this act alone didn't condemn him to hell, he didn't know what would, so he might as well make sure it was worth it. Brimstone and hellfire couldn't compare to the flames that were currently running through his bloodstream because of you.

He can't seem to decide whether or not you're a demon or an angel, so he decides you're both. Because there is absolutely nothing angelic about the way your pussy is weeping on his thick cock. No heavenly being would allow themselves to be bent over the altar with their clothing littered on the carpet like this. Eyes rolling to the back of their heads as the crucifix above them witnesses the whole indecent act altogether. So this is where his dilemma begins, because only an angel could be this beautiful. Have those innocent, doe eyes that made him want to corrupt you since day one. That gorgeous laugh. But maybe it isn't worth thinking about, at least not right now. Not when he finally has what he wants in the palm of his hand.

Everything about it was completely obscene. A sheen of sweat coating his, and your skin. You were fucking like animals, and the worst part is that you both got a thrill out of it. It was really quite simple: Simon was the predator, and you were his prey. The pretty little bunny who stumbled across the wolf . And he'd devour you again and again until he was satiated. His hands couldn't stop their attack on your lush skin even if he wanted to, he would sink his teeth in so deeply that no one else would even dare to look at you. Your plump ass was now a deep shade of crimson from his bruising assault on it, and your pretty eyes were flowing. A cry escapes your throat, and he quickly has a fist tangling in your hair to see the sight for himself. Angling your head backwards to see that adorable face, aren't you a vision? Your makeup, at least what's left of it, is almost gone. Drool running out of your open mouth. He's already made you come twice.

It's humiliating. Being unable to do anything but stare dumbly through the blur of your tears. And a moment passes before the man cruelly laughs at what he's reduced you to, you swear his eyes are a darker shade. His husky voice rings out. "Look at you, all dumb and cock drunk for me. This is all you needed, wasn't it?? Needed me to bully this little cunt. Hmm ??" Brutal thrusts never stopping because he wants to see you struggle. "Answer me bunny ,I wont ask again" the priest says in an even harsher tone. It's too good, too much, and you're trying to remember how to speak, which clearly isn't done fast enough for his liking. Seeing as his palm strikes one of your tear stained cheeks before you can even blink. A half moan, half gasp of y-yes! escaping your plush lips at the harsh treatment, fingers grasping at the edges of the altar for dear life. How could you go back to living without this pleasure?

You've gone completely boneless beneath him now, shoulders giving out and unable to hold up your weight any longer, top half slumped on the sleek wood. Taut nipples resting on the surface. The fact that the beloved priest you'd come to know had a side so devilish to his friendly demeanor only muddled your brain further. There was no doubt that you were thoroughly enjoying it. Hell might be waiting for you, but at least the journey there will be filled with his cock. How could anyone resist pleasure like this? Slick drips down your thighs in a never-ending river, lewd sounds following every time he sinks into your plush hole. Simon doesn't think he'll ever be able to get enough of it, or of you.

He's nearing the edge now, and he's going to take you with him. A hand drifts down to massage your head sweetly. "That's it, pretty girl, just one more time for me. Let me fill you up" And with a faint hum of approval from you, he's dragging his agile digits between your trembling legs. Thumb going to caress your sensitive clit with his thumb. White-hot pleasure building up to the limit for the both of you. Guttural groans part from his lips, and with a few more motions of his hips and thumb, you're both falling together. Kitten like whimpers sounding from your mouth.

Your battered cunt milking him for all he's worth while he fills you to the brim. So completely and utterly full. Any guilt and doubt that he had once felt is gone because he knows he'd choose this every time, choose you every time. And he makes sure to get the message across by littering your neck and torso with gentle kisses. "You did so well, so so well for me". His words instantly put a dopey smile on your face. Only reaffirming the thought that you wanted this man to be yours forever.

AN//: This was my longest work / fic ever?? I plan To release multiple parts for it Soon. Hopefully you guys enjoy because I tried my best and was very proud of how this turned out. Bye!!! <3333

#ghost #simon riley #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #ghost x you #ghost imagine #❥sage;writes🍰💒!#ghost mwii #cod smut #call of duty smut #Dilf! Simon #Priest Simon

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johaerys-writes · 4 months

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Ch. 22: Futile Devices

Read on AO3 | Read from the beginning

In the late morning light, Achilles’ hair is like liquid gold.

It glitters as it tumbles around his head in lazy waves, like a shimmering halo. It’s messy and disheveled yet it still looks as if an artist’s hands have arranged it carefully over the pillow. His features are perfect and serene in sleep, the light caressing the sharp angle of his jaw and the straight line of his nose, shadows ghosting over the side of his neck and hugging the delicate curve of his throat, his lips pink and sensual; he looks as if he’s in a painting already, the perfect picture of a lovely youth in repose.

Patroclus lies on his stomach, pillow propped beneath his chin, and watches him for a very long time.

It’s well past ten and Achilles still hasn't stirred, which is unusual for him. Patroclus can’t remember Achilles ever staying in bed too long after dawn. Even if he did, it would be to pester Patroclus until he finally gave up and got up with him. Perhaps last night was too intense for him, or the day before it. Perhaps Patroclus wore him out, or Antilochus before him, or a combination of the two.

They really should talk about that.

But… perhaps not just yet. Patroclus isn’t quite ready to let go of that warm, fuzzy feeling. He wants to hold on to this bliss for as long as he can, without spoiling it with thoughts of the past or the future. It’s enough for him that he can exist in this moment with Achilles, watching as his chest rises and falls gently with every breath, eyelids twitching in dreaming. There will be time to talk about the rest.

He hopes they will have time.

Laika trots into the room and comes to sit by Patroclus’ side of the bed. She gazes up at him with her big wet eyes and whines quietly, scratching at the blanket. Patroclus may be able to ignore the future, but the present is very insistently tugging him out of bed so that he’ll take it for a walk.

Achilles doesn’t open his eyes as Patroclus quietly shushes Laika and slips from underneath the covers, and if that isn’t testament to how exhausted he must be then Patroclus doesn’t know what is. He pulls his sweatshirt over his head and pads silently out of the room. Achilles’ jacket is hanging by the peg by the door and Patroclus throws it on before walking outside; it’s much easier than walking back towards his room and risking Laika’s impatient woofs as she’ll inevitably follow him there waking Achilles up. He pulls on his hood, and walks out.

It’s a clear, crisp day. A sharp wind is blowing through the park, but it isn’t unpleasant. It feels fresh and clean. It reminds Patroclus of Phthia and its clear skies, its rolling hills and wide open plains; it’s a bit of a welcome change in the stuffiness of the big city.

A strong gust ruffles his hair; Patroclus huddles deeper into the jacket. It smells like Achilles, warm and sweet and a little musky, and a grin comes to Patroclus’ lips unbidden. His heart flutters and his stomach twists in excitement at the thought that he will see Achilles again the moment he walks through their apartment door. It’s a little ridiculous, because Patroclus has hardly spent a single day of his life without seeing Achilles, but it’s even better now, infinitely better, because now Patroclus can kiss him. He can touch him, he can look at him openly without fearing that he’ll be caught. He can slip right back into bed if Achilles isn’t up yet and pull him close and smell the fawn-smooth skin of his neck without needing an excuse. He can just do that. The thought alone makes every nerve in his body sing. He’s all giddy like a child on Christmas day.

Laika seems to share none of his enthusiasm to return home; she’s more than happy to sniff and examine every tree and bench and corner they pass by. After ignoring her for most of the morning, Patroclus feels like he has to make it up to her, so he lets her do as she pleases until she eventually grows bored and starts tugging at the leash so they can go back home. They jog and then run down the last block, and by the time they reach their front door Patroclus is flushed and panting and grinning, scratching behind Laika’s ears with one hand as he fumbles with the key with the other.

Achilles emerges from the room, sleepy and bleary-eyed in just his boxers just as Patroclus closes the door behind him and hangs the jacket by the peg.

“Hey,” Patroclus says, still laughing as Laika hops around his feet and plays tug with the leash. He takes it off her collar and gives her a last pat on the head before urging her towards her food and water bowls. “Did we wake you? Laika’s very energetic this morning.”

Achilles just blinks at them both, his face still a little puffy from sleep and a clear imprint of the pillow on his cheek. “I woke up while you were out.”

“Shall I make us some coffee?” Patroclus walks to the kitchen and starts opening the cupboards and taking out mugs and jars. As the coffee maker hums awake and the kitchen fills with its warm and comforting smell, Patroclus rummages through the cupboards and the fridge to make them something to eat. Their fridge is more or less empty, with nothing but a couple forgotten apples in a corner, a stick of butter and some leftover takeaway that should really be thrown away. Patroclus regrets that he didn’t think to buy Achilles breakfast, but he didn’t want to be away for longer than he should. “There isn’t much, but I’m sure we’ll be able to scrap something together. Maybe… an apple crumble? Sort of? I think we still have some flour left, unless you used it all up yesterday—”

His sentence is cut off when Achilles’ arms wind around his middle and squeeze. He presses himself to his back, face dropping on his shoulder.

“I woke up and the bed was empty,” he murmurs against the fabric of Patroclus’ shirt. “I thought you were gone.”

“Oh.” Patroclus rests his hand on Achilles’ arms where they’re wrapped around him. When he rolled out of bed, he didn’t stop at all to think what Achilles would make of him missing. But given their history… the mornings after being intimate were always the worst. “Laika had to go, and I didn’t want to wake you. I didn’t realise….”

He shifts around in Achilles’ hold to face him. Achilles tilts his face up towards him; his eyes are still a little tired, dark circles beneath them from the previous night, but they’re clear and bright as always, reflecting the light. Affection blooms in Patroclus’ chest at the sight, warming him. He cups Achilles’ cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly. “I was only going to be out for a little while.”

“I know. It’s okay. When I saw that Laika wasn’t here either I figured it out, but still…” He sighs, resting his face between Patroclus’ palms. “Do you regret it?” he asks, very serious.

“What?”

“What happened last night. Do you regret it?”

Read the rest on AO3!

#patrochilles #achilles #patroclus #the song of achilles #tsoa #hades game #the iliad #modern au #johaerys writes #finally got around to making a promo for this #it's a chonky one :3

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arrowofcarnations · 7 months

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Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 5: Ritual

Some spice (and I’m not talkin’ pumpkin spice) with a Star Wars-y twist for day five of the fest (@noots-fic-fests)! Co-written with the fantabulous @veryspacecowboy—and posted just in time for your birthday!!! <3

Title: Beskar Babes Characters: Finn O'Hara/Logan Tremblay/Leo Knut Rating: E

Thank you as always to @lumosinlove for the boys—especially Kuny, who I think we can all agree is the real MVP of this one.

Like many good things, it all started with a Star Wars marathon spread over an away trip.

Actually, it really started with a shutout game where Leo made several impossible saves. In the locker room, Kuny had ruffled Leo's sweaty hair and called him Master Skywalker, to which Leo had blushed and admitted he'd never actually seen Star Wars.

Naturally, this caused a huge uproar, especially from Kuny and Nado, but also from Finn. The three of them ranted and raved for all of about five minutes before Kuny clapped his hands on Finn and Leo's shoulders and said 'Your padawan, he is, O'Hara. Teach him Force, you must.’

Over the next week, Finn showed Leo (and Logan, who was mostly there for cuddles) episodes four through six, one through three, Solo, Rogue One, and finally (with a grain of salt), seven through nine.

Once they were finally back home in their apartment, settling back into their routine after the ups and downs of the long roadie, Finn started watching The Mandalorian on nights when he wasn’t caught up in a book. His boys had pretty much left him to it, declaring themselves Star Wars-ed out for the time being. But Leo’s passing glances at the screen while Finn was watching slowly became watching half an episode over Finn’s shoulder, and then the two of them were in it together, shared blanket thrown over their legs and all. Logan grumbled more and more about it until he finally gave in, the allure of couch cuddles too strong, and started watching with them.

It didn’t take Logan long to notice his boyfriends’ crushes on the show’s lead, the Mandalorian himself. Leo was the first to admit it, letting out a low whistle during the scene when Djarin removes his helmet for the first time. “I knew he was hot.”

Finn had laughed and thrown his hands in the air. “Okay, right?! He was hot with the helmet on, even, but damn. Like, okay.”

Logan didn’t disagree, but mostly he was just amused at their fawning, which they kept doing from time to time until the season ended. Then one day in the locker room, as he watched Finn and Leo talk about the finale with Kuny and Nado, he got an idea.

Before crawling into bed with his boyfriends that night, he sent a quick text to Kuny.

Did you buy that Mando armor you showed us?

да yes, beskar delivery today.

why?

Can I borrow it this weekend?

There was a long-ish pause, those three dots moving like Kuny was typing, then deleting, typing, then deleting once more.

clean off cum after, little Mando

you come here and pick up?

Logan’s cheeks were burning as he tapped out a fast tomorrow am, ignoring both the short joke and the implication because, well. It would just sound stupid to lie. He already knew the smug grin Kuny was going to give him tomorrow, but he could take a little chirping from him (and inevitably Nado) if it meant the success of his plan.

It was easy enough to pull off the surprise; Logan stopped at Kuny and Nado’s place on the way home from a grocery run, leaving the outfit in his car until he had some time alone to get ready. Luckily, Finn was hell-bent on restocking their bar so he could make them a round of after-dinner manhattans (“We have off tomorrow!”) and Leo wanted some weird liqueur for a baking project, so all Logan had to do was pass on joining them for the ride, saying he wanted to shower instead.

The armor wasn’t the easiest thing to get into, but still only took him half the time it did to suit up for a game, giving him a few spare minutes to check himself out in the mirror. It had been custom-made for Kuny, so some of it was unsurprisingly big on him, but he thought he looked alright anyway. He huffed out a laugh at his reflection, shaking his head a little.

“D’accord, here we go,” he said to himself. He heard the rumble of Leo’s car pulling up in the driveway, fitted his helmet on, and made his way to the living room.

The way their apartment was set up, the living room was kind of tucked behind a wall that helped give the kitchen more cabinets. If he knew his boys, they'd go straight to the kitchen to put away groceries before doing anything else. He shifted a little, the blaster at his hip and the tracking fob blinking steadily in his other hand.

The lock at the front door clicked open and the voices of his lovers carried through, halfway through a conversation. Logan swallowed thickly and waited.

"—cool that we don't have to get your Crystal hot sauce from your parents anymore, now that they just have it at the grocery store."

"Well, yeah, but I like getting care packages from my parents. Even if I'm paying for the shipping." The sounds of things being put away, bottles clinking, and the fridge doors closing were slightly muffled through the helmet.

"BabyNut, no one's saying you can't get care packages from your sweet mama, I'm just saying now she can put more homemade goodies in, if she wants."

"Yeah, s'pose so. Remember when it exploded in the box?" There was some laughter and a soft silence Logan recognized as kissing. "Hey, where's Lo? Is he napping?"

And with that, Finn flipped the lights on in the living room and the pair of them stepped out of the kitchen. Leo froze at the sight of Logan (he assumed it was Logan) in full-on, practically screen-exact Mandalorian armor. Finn bumped into him with a soft oof and gasped when he peeked around Leo.

"Holy—Jesus Christ, Lo, where the hell did you get that? It looks great!" There was a long pause as Logan stood up, tracking fob blinking softly as he pointed it at his boyfriends. Then, he pulled the blaster from its holster.

"I can bring you in warm…or I can bring you in cold."

All three of them went still for a moment, and Logan was smiling from ear to ear under the helmet at the literal jaw drops he’d elicited from his boyfriends. Leo was dragging his gaze all the way down Logan from head to toe and back again, and Finn’s gaze flicked from the blaster to the helmet right where Logan’s eyes would be, seemingly rendered speechless mid-sentence. That was more like it, Logan thought.

Leo broke the silence first. “I surrender,” he said, voice low and honey-sweet as his lips twitched up in a tiny grin. He sent a sidelong glance toward Finn, who was still wide-eyed and uncharacteristically quiet. “Harz?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “What about you?”

Finn swallowed twice, and Logan was just starting to feel worry unfurling in his chest when the redhead took a step forward, then another, stopping just short of the blaster aimed at him. “Oh yeah,” he said, putting his hands in the air in a show of surrender. His crooked smile was warm and full of promise, and it chased away the panic in Logan instantly. “I’m all yours, baby.”

"I would've thought that a Marshal of Tattooine—" Logan semi-gently poked Finn in the belly with his blaster before nodding his helmet at Leo. “and a Jedi Master would put up more of a fight for having bounties on their heads, but I've been surprised before. Not that surprise has helped them live."

There was another beat as Finn and Leo caught on to Logan’s play. Anticipation was picking Logan’s heart rate up, but he fought the urge to squirm, keeping still as he waited to see what the other two would do.

Finn considered him with raised brows, that crooked grin turning a little more surprised, but no less amused. “A bounty, eh?” Finn said, letting his belly press against the end of the blaster just slightly. “Well, that changes things. I thought this was a Mandalorian’s way of asking a guy for a drink.”

Leo came up behind Finn, snaking his arms around his waist. “And we’d be very interested in having a drink with you,” he said, voice soft and sweet but blue eyes full of mischief where they burned into Logan’s despite the helmet.

Leo leaned his head down to press a lingering kiss to the side of Finn’s neck, and Finn sighed into it. It distracted Logan just enough to let Finn get his hand around the weapon, coaxing it away from his body until it was pointed toward the floor between them. “What do you say?” Finn breathed. The two of them were looking right at where they knew green eyes were considering them. “No fun bringing us in cold when we’re this hot.”

That got a little huff of a laugh out of their darling Mando, and Finn felt that warmth in his belly from making his sweetheart laugh. They hadn't talked super seriously about sexy roleplaying or dress up, but this? The beskar armor? The tough-guy attitude? Finn liked it a lot and, from the feel of Leo pressed up against him, he guessed he wasn’t the only one.

"I thought the Jedi had rules about attachment. You two seem pretty attached."

"Restarting the Order comes with a few perks," Leo said, his disapproval of how Luke acted in the series shining through a little. "Friendship, love, and sex aren't the enemy. But…the last of those is on the table, Mando. If you like."

Logan tilted his head, pretending to consider their offer. Then he motioned toward the hallway with the blaster. “Bedroom, now,” he said in the most commanding tone he could muster.

He watched as Finn and Leo shared a look, all wide eyes and excited grins, and felt the familiar pull to be closer to them. But he wasn’t ready to give up the game just yet. Finn went first, then Leo, then Logan behind them both, closing the bedroom door behind him.

Once he turned around to face them, he was met with two gorgeous boys standing by the foot of their enormous bed, watching him and waiting for his next direction. A thrill ran through him as he found himself running the show. This wasn’t their usual dynamic, even without the roleplay, but Logan was eager to see where it would go, where he could take them.

He holstered the blaster at last, crossing his arms instead as he stared them down. “Take off his clothes, Jedi,” he said, the hint of a smile in his voice. “Since he’s in such a hurry to get out of them.”

Being called Jedi was apparently doing it for Leo because he'd never stripped one of the boys out of their clothes as fast as he was getting Finn naked. "Oh my g—kriffing shit. Leo!" Oop—he'd actually forgotten about Finn's shoes. Well, now he was naked at least. All those freckles on display, with that gorgeous, perfect amount of deep red body hair…and that lovely, lovely cock. Logan was definitely hard in his armor.

"Now, Marshal…give us a turn and get the Jedi naked."

Marshal. Finn didn’t know if he should be finding that as hot as he was, but he was too into this whole surprise roleplay to care. What was hotter than that, though, was Logan. The way he was carrying himself, so in command, made Finn want to do things—want to have things done to him—that he hadn’t really thought about before. He shivered in the open air, feeling distinctly exposed with his boyfriends still fully dressed. But not for long—he had orders, after all.

Finn stole a moment to give Leo a lingering kiss, pressing his palms to the sides of Leo’s neck and stroking the strong line of Leo’s jaw with his thumbs, before pulling away with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows. He stripped Leo efficiently—not as lightning-fast as Leo had done to him, maybe, but he didn’t make a show of it, either—and pulled him in for another kiss, heated and a little sloppy with excitement, once they were both completely, equally naked.

“Oh, hi,” Finn murmured as Leo’s quickly filling cock pressed against his hip. “You like him, huh, Master Knut?” Leo gasped, eyes wide and dark, and Finn smiled, knowing he’d got him good. They would absolutely be returning to the Jedi persona for Leo; it just fit so perfectly, and Leo obviously really liked it.

"I do, I do like him. The voice, the confidence…the armor." Leo swallowed thickly and glanced over at Logan, still with his blaster in his hand. "What…what would you have us do, Mando?"

"It's been a while since I've been to a show. Too busy hunting Imperials. Take him apart, Master Jedi. At my direction."

Finn felt a little shiver run through him again, but it wasn’t from the air this time. He looked over at Logan, then at Leo, who was sizing him up with a hunger in his eyes that made Finn’s heart pick up. Oh, he was in trouble. And it was going to be good trouble.

“It would be my pleasure,” Leo said, ducking his head to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of Finn’s jaw down his neck, stopping at the cap of his shoulder. Finn was a little twitchy with excited energy, wiggling his toes on the wood floor and skating his hands through Leo’s hair, across his back, up his arms—wherever he could reach.

Leo noticed, and walked Finn backwards until he could coax him down onto the bed. He ran a soothing hand down Finn’s bare chest, then looked over his shoulder at Logan. “This good?” he asked.

Logan nodded, walking closer to the bed to get a better view of them as Leo settled himself on top of Finn. He didn’t join them, though; he was content to watch the show for now, like he’d said, though he didn’t know how long he’d last without giving into the desire to touch them.

He watched as Leo and Finn lost themselves in a slow, tender kiss that morphed into something a little more desperate by the time they broke apart, panting against each other’s mouths. Leo hummed softly, nuzzling his nose against Finn’s cheek in a sweet contrast to the way his hips were slowly starting to roll against Finn’s. Finn’s hands were curled around Leo’s ribs, fingertips pressing into the strong muscles of his back, and he kissed the gray tuft that was always visible in the mass of Leo’s blond curls before his gaze wandered over to the armored figure looming a few feet away.

“You could help him,” Finn said to Logan, his smile going slack as Leo moved to suck a bruise into the junction of his neck and shoulder. “You could—fuck, Leo—help him take me apart.”

"Mm." Logan shifted a bit, helmet tilting as he assessed what Finn had suggested and what Leo was doing to him. "Something tells me you're not the one getting taken apart. Take it slow… take a moment to settle into it. I'll do my part soon enough, Marshal. And Jedi? Make sure to leave marks. This is the Way." This was as much Logan talking as Mando, and it made another shiver go through Leo and Finn.

Leo guided Finn’s gaze back to his with gentle fingers on his chin. “What do you say, O’Hara?” Leo’s smile was playful and loving and it warmed Finn from the inside out, helping to calm his energy a bit. “Do you trust me?”

Finn knew that Leo was playing along with the scene, but he was also really asking. He wasn’t used to just—lying back and taking it, so to speak. He liked to do the work, he liked to take Leo and Logan apart and give them everything they wanted and then some. But his answer came without hesitation. “Mhm,” he hummed, kissing the tip of Leo’s nose. Because he did trust them, both of them, implicitly. And whenever he’d stepped out of his comfort zone with them before, it had always ended more than well. “Go ahead, baby. I’m all yours.”

Just like on the boat in New Orleans, Leo would take good care of Finn, and hopefully the pair of them could ease Finn down into subspace. Logan and Leo had experienced it before and Finn had been so good with them. He deserved the same. The fact that it had a Star Wars flair was just…a nice extra touch.

The three of them shifted, Leo moving Finn up the bed a bit so Logan had room to perch on the edge of the bed and watch. He wanted to take off the helmet…but knew it would be better and 'more authentic' if he waited for now and left it on. "Touch him, softly. Ease him into it, touch him where he likes."

Leo looked over his shoulder at Logan and nodded, biting his lip against the arousal that spiked through him at Logan being in control. At Logan instructing him how to make love to Finn. It was intimate, doing this as a pair, and a part of his brain was already coming up with ideas of what they could try in the future. He looked back into warm brown eyes and shelved those thoughts for now; he had a marshal who needed him, after all, and he fully intended on following the mandalorian’s orders to the letter.

Leo settled back over Finn, bracketing him with his knees on either side of Finn’s thighs and his forearms on the sides of Finn’s head, and kissed him for what felt like a blissful eternity, slow and deep. When he felt Finn start to relax underneath him, Leo pulled back just enough to drag the pad of his thumb across Finn’s bottom lip. Finn smiled, kissing it, and Leo kept going, tracing a gentle path with his fingertips down the long expanse of Finn’s neck, to his broad chest, pale and strong and peppered with freckles.

He shifted to kiss over Finn’s adam’s apple as his fingers traced teasing circles around his nipples. Finn made a soft sound at the touch, arching up into it slightly, and Leo gave him a little more, brushing over the pink buds with the smoothest parts of his hands and then the spots where his skin was rougher and more calloused. Finn squirmed and sighed and sunk his hands into Leo’s hair, but he didn’t try to initiate anything, so Leo replaced his hands with his mouth as a reward, lapping and sucking gently until Finn’s nipples were hard peaks.

“You’re so beautiful, Harzy,” Leo breathed, blowing cool air over Finn where he was now extra sensitive. He gave each nipple a last kiss. “So good for me always.” He kissed the bump of Finn’s sternum as his hands made a slow path down his chest and belly to the V of his hips.

“Leo,” Finn gasped, cock pulsing out a bead of precome where it hung heavily between his legs. Leo’s mouth watered at the sight, but he wasn’t there yet. Finn wasn’t there yet.

He kissed his way back up to Finn’s neck, leaving a purple love bite to match the one on the opposite side. “Fuck,” Finn groaned, gripping Leo’s shoulders. His hips bucked, unconsciously seeking friction. “Fuck, baby.”

“You like being my good boy, don’t you?” Leo asked, running his knuckles down Finn’s cheek tenderly as he got an enthusiastic nod in response. Then he took hold of Finn’s wrists, easing his arms back until they framed his head on the pillow. “Can you stay just like this while I go a little lower?” There were so many other places Leo wanted to love on Finn’s bottom half.

As Leo smooched down Finn's belly, headed towards his cock, Logan shifted so he could stand up by Finn's head. "You like to be good for your Jedi?" He traced along Finn's arm and then his shoulder with the soft leather glove, just the tips of his fingers to make Finn shiver and moan sweetly. "You'll be so sweet for us, I can tell."

"I—yeah, I'm good. I want to be good for you two." Finn let out a shaky breath as Leo lapped at the head of his cock. Logan cupped Finn's face in his hand, gently teasing his bottom lip with his thumb as he cradled Finn's jaw.

Without overthinking it, Finn yielded to the gentle pressure, opening his mouth and drawing Logan’s gloved thumb inside with his tongue as his eyes slid shut. He sucked on it once experimentally, then groaned around it, brown eyes fluttering back open to look up at Logan through his lashes. This was new for Finn; it made his cheeks hot and his dick throb under the barely-there flicks of Leo’s tongue. He stared at the shiny visor and wished he could see what Logan’s eyes looked like that second.

There was a shift between them, a subtle change in the feel of things, there in their bed. Leo squeezed where Finn's ass met his thigh and the redhead moaned softly around the gloved finger in his mouth. Finn was slipping nicely, his two boys easing him down into a fuzzy, warm floatiness.

"Yeah, sweetheart, you're so good. You look so good sucking his thumb. Such a good boy for us." Leo murmured these words of praise into Finn's lovely, freckled lower belly and looked up to see how Finn gazed up at Logan, still wearing his helmet. "Mando—Logan. Can you take off your helmet for us?"

Logan hesitated for a moment, debating with himself. Finn looked so gorgeous underneath them, eyes wide and dark and trusting, and his slow sucks around Logan’s thumb were sending arousal spiking through Logan’s body. Part of him was dying to rip the costume off and kiss the living daylights out of Finn, and then do the same to Leo. But part of him wasn’t sure what would happen if he did. Could he keep up this energy with them without the armor, without the persona?

He looked over at Leo where he was pressing kisses to the root of Finn’s cock and watching them both with lust-blown blue eyes. Then he looked back at Finn and felt his heart pull at the look on Finn’s face. He let Logan’s finger slip from his mouth, his hands reaching to find purchase on any part of Logan he could reach. “Please,” he said, soft and sweet and yearning. “Please, Lo baby, wanna see you.”

He hadn’t even finished getting the words out before Logan’s hands were flying up to the helmet, pulling it up over his head and letting it rest on the nightstand with a soft thud. He was flushed and his brown hair was sticking to his temples where a thin sheen of sweat had broken out over his skin from the heavy costume. Finn let out a soft noise as he finally locked eyes with Logan, smiling at him like he’d hung the moon, and Logan couldn’t wait another second, pushing a hand into Finn’s hair and giving it a tug that made Finn’s toes curl before catching him in a dizzying kiss.

“Gorgeous, mon rouge,” Logan purred against Finn’s lips, allowing the break in character to give Finn the praise that was so obviously sending him up to cloud nine. “Your mouth is perfect. I want you to keep doing that while Leo sucks your cock.” He looked over at Leo. “Ouais?”

Leo swallowed hard, his own cock heavy against the mattress. “Ouais,” he said, already a little breathless. It was such a treat to see his boys like this, it was like a remix of their special lovemaking on the boat. Christ, he wanted his boys any way he could have them, including with the added spice of beskar. "Finn, check in with Lo. Okay?"

"Uh-huh, okay, Le—" Finn let it out in a breathless rush, a blush settling high on his freckled cheeks as he gazed up at Logan. He tilted his head just enough to press a little kiss to Logan's thumb before Logan slipped his thumb past Finn's lips once more and Leo descended on the redhead's cock.

"You're such a treat to look at, Harzy, especially with Leo's mouth on you. Did the armor really get you that hot?" When Finn nodded and moaned around Logan's thumb, he couldn't hold back his smile. Fuck, he was so lucky.

For a long few moments, Logan let things play out, Finn’s sucks around his thumb becoming more rhythmic as he mimicked what Leo was doing between his legs. Then he slid his thumb out from that wet heat, cupping Finn’s cheek briefly to reassure him he hadn’t done anything wrong, and stepped back just enough to start getting himself out of the costume as fast as he could, taking care not to scuff or break anything. He had nothing but boxers on under the costume’s layers; it was a relief to be standing only in them after what felt like hours in the hot, heavy armor.

He crawled onto the bed, laying on his side next to Finn, and Leo pulled off Finn’s cock with a kiss before coming up to lay on his opposite side. Their hands trailed over Finn’s chest and stomach idly as Logan kissed him again, more slowly this time. When he pulled away, Finn chased his mouth, his eyes closed and his lips swollen and bitten-red. Logan felt his heart squeeze and his dick twitch at the sight.

“Gorgeous,” he said again, quiet and reverent, and ran a hand through Finn’s mussed-up hair. He took a second to lean over and kiss Leo for good measure, and he could practically feel how turned on Leo was by this, too.

A happy sigh beneath them made them both break the kiss and look. “Fucking love watching you two,” Finn said with a dopey grin. “Never gets old.”

That drew both of their attention back to him, and soon he had two pairs of lovely hands mapping his skin, two wickedly talented mouths drawing soft, low sounds out of him. Logan sucked a bruise into the side of Finn’s neck, just under his ear, as Leo pressed a few slow, open-mouthed kisses to the base of his cock before grinning up at him (fuck) and sinking down on him until the tip of his nose brushed the soft-coarse hair below Finn’s navel.

"Oh—Leo, fuck—Logan—” Finn was so glad they'd dropped the pretense of the roleplay because he was quickly getting a little too far under to remember anything but his gorgeous boys' names. Logan combed his fingers through Finn's hair again and again as Leo worked his magic on the redhead's cock, slurping when he pulled up near the head, swallowing and breathing through his nose to take Finn into his throat.

“Don’t come yet,” Logan instructed.

Finn whined, knee knocking into Leo’s shoulder as he shuddered with pleasure.

“Harzy,” he warned. He caught Leo’s eye as he looked up at him questioningly. Logan just winked in response, then grabbed lube out of the bedside table drawer and knelt behind Leo, drawing him up onto his knees, too.

“Don’t get him too good,” he said to Leo, borrowing a phrase he’d picked up from him. The anticipatory shiver that rolled through Leo as he ran his palm down each asscheek, then circled his rim with a slick fingertip, was worth every bit of chirping he was going to take from Kuny tomorrow. “You’re giving me a show, remember? I want to see him fill you.”

That got a moan out of both them, Leo's louder as he nodded his consent—and Logan worked the first finger inside him. "I can—I can take two, Mando—Lo, please.” The roleplay was a little hazy now that the armor had come off, but none of them much cared. Logan bit Leo's shoulder and then soothed it with a kiss, giving his lover another finger, at his request.

"You guys are gonna fuckin' kill me, I swear—Lo, lemme cum—"

"Non. You'll cum in him after I do."

"Fuck yeah I want both, I want you both—" Leo rocked his hips back on Logan's hand, but Logan stopped him with a hand on his hip.

"Be good and you'll get both."

Leo, ever the team player, obeyed, melting into Logan’s hold as he was prepped. He had to pull his mouth off Finn twice more after bringing him to the edge; Logan watched those big goalie hands pet down Finn’s chest and flanks soothingly as Finn obeyed, too. (They were being so good for him. Logan was going to make it worth their while.)

The first press of his cock inside Leo was pure bliss, just like always. Logan’s eyes darted everywhere: at the sight of himself disappearing into Leo, at Leo’s strong back and the slightly sweaty blonde curls at the nape of his neck as he swallowed Finn down again, at Finn’s wrecked, desperate expression and pale fingers gripping the sheets as if for dear life.

He knew it would be over soon—they were all too fired up to take it slow—so the pace he set was fast, giving Leo the short, sharp thrusts that would get them both there before Finn lost it completely. He could tell Leo wanted it just as badly, groaning as he pushed his hips back to meet him.

“Gonna come,” Logan said tightly, reaching around to take Leo’s cock in hand. Leo’s strangled cry made Finn thrash and Logan pick up the pace, jacking Leo to the quick tempo of his thrusts.

“Oh my god, oh—yeah, Tremz, come on, wannahaveitgimmeitplease?”

Logan dropped his head between Leo’s shoulder blades and moaned long as low as he pulsed inside him, hips grinding slowly as he rode it out. He smiled to himself as he felt Leo start to come a few seconds later, stroking him through it and savoring the shocked little laugh that tumbled out of him as Logan got him nice and full and spent.

Well, hopefully not spent-spent. He still wanted to see their plan through. Logan looked over Leo's shoulder at Finn, who looked like he was trying very, very hard not to spontaneously combust.

Leo had stopped the blowjob while he came which seemed to give Finn just a moment to calm himself. But now he had two sets of eyes on him. Finn swallowed thickly and his cock twitched against his lower belly.

"Leo, do you still want—?"

"Yes I want it, I want him, m'fucking good for it." Leo let out a soft noise when Logan pulled out.

"You know what to do then, O'Hara. Give him his second and make him messy."

Finn groaned and covered his face with his hands. "You can't just say shit like that after Nutty's just given me the succ of my life and then not let me cum—jesus—" By then, Leo had already shifted, climbing up on top of Finn so Logan could line them up.

Leo looked down at him and gently moved one hand out of the way. "There's my handsome guy. You ready Fish?"

"Yeah baby, fucking give it to me."

Leo wasted no time; he sank down onto Finn’s cock as he guided Finn’s hands to his waist, squeezing them in a quick pulse as Finn got the message and held him there.

Logan almost missed Leo’s hushed “fuck yes” under the punched-out moan that escaped Finn’s lips as Leo found his seat. Finn was beautiful like this, utterly breathless and flushed down to his freckled chest. Logan’s hand was tender as it brushed red hair away from Finn’s eyes.

“I like you desperate,” he murmured, which earned him one of the surprised little laughs Finn often gave them in bed. Logan wanted to kiss the point of his smile-scrunched nose, so he did.

“You two,” was all Finn said before kissing him, as though that answered everything about his current state. Logan’s chest swelled with pride as he realized that for Finn, it did.

The grin on Leo’s face was a little wild, a little sex-drunk, as he started to move (and oh, did he move. Logan had literally just fucked him, but he was still a tiny bit jealous as he watched pure bliss blossom over Finn’s handsome face).

“Holy fuck, Le,” Finn managed. He pushed his hips up a few times, trying to meet Leo, but his shaking legs flattened on the bed after a minute. He was going, going, gone, and so was Leo. Logan wanted to get them the rest of the way there.

"Can you give us another, soleil? Can you cum all over Finn's pretty chest as he fills you up?" Logan kissed Leo's cheek and took hold of his cock, causing a gorgeous little hitch in Leo's hips that had all three of them groaning. "He's so close, aren't you, Rouge?"

"I'm there, I'm there, holy fuck, Le—Lo—baby, I'm there, can I? Let me, please can I?” There was nothing so beautiful as Finn O'Hara spread out and flushed with pleasure and begging to cum. He made the prettiest picture and his cock just felt so good inside of Leo that…

"You can cum, Finn, be good and cum and fill him up." Logan gave him permission and kissed his forehead as Leo threw his head back and rode their redhead as hard as he could.

As long as he lived, Logan would never, ever not be transfixed by the sight of his boys like this. The way Finn arched his back, eyes falling shut as he moaned so pretty and gave himself over to it; the way Leo laughed around a “yes, yes, yes!” as he got what he wanted and then followed Finn close behind, knees jerking inward on either side of Finn’s hips as he came harder than he had the first time, shaking in their hold on him.

It was like Logan could feel it, too, and it made him needy all over again. His cock twitched against his thigh, but he ignored it in favor of stroking Leo through the aftershocks and run fingertips down the ladder of Finn’s ribs as he gave every last drop to Leo.

Soon, though, both of them went a little boneless, Finn slipping out of Leo as Leo pitched forward to lay chest to chest. Finn looked a bit squashed, but he wasn’t complaining; he kissed Leo’s sweat-damp temple and rubbed his back in a slow rhythm. Logan knelt beside them and bit his lip against a groan as he closed a hand around himself, chasing a second orgasm. He’d join the cuddle puddle in a moment, he just needed to…

“Lemme,” Finn slurred, eyes already half-lidded as Leo pet his hair. He shot a hand out but missed, grazing Logan’s thigh; Logan laughed even as he stroked himself faster, gripped a little tighter.

“Stay,” Logan teasingly commanded. “ ‘M close. I’m—merde, you two…”

He jumped a little as he felt a hand grip him by the back of the knee and pull him closer.

“C’mere,” Leo said, sounding just as sleepily sated as Finn even as he urged Lo closer. “On me, on me, please?”

Logan was about to say something about Leo being messy enough, but then Leo arched a little so his ass was on display, displayed for Logan, and said “please?” again. Logan watched as cum trickled out of him and realized it could be his or Finn’s, and that was it—he shifted closer, jacked himself quick and hard for another few seconds, and painted Leo from the small of his back to the tops of his thighs.

All three of them were breathing heavily, sort of all smushed together in a pile of hockey players on their huge bed. That was truly one of the best parts of their sex ritual; however they ended up, they were snuggling. Eventually, Finn cleared his throat.

"So, uh, not to be that guy and question such an awesome thing that brought about mutual orgasms, but like…where the fuck did all that come from?! I mean, I loved it—the voice and the armor and the roleplay and the armor, but like. Where did all that come from?" He flapped his hands a little from where he was pinned under Leo, and it got chuckles out of Leo and Logan. But then Leo turned and peeked at Logan.

"...That's not your suit, is it?"

"Non. It's a rental."

"Right, but from who?"

Logan sat up and kissed Leo's shoulder and got up to get a flannel. "...it might have been Kuny."

"Ohhhh my God, we're about to get chirped so fucking bad," Finn lamented, even as Leo pressed smiley little kisses all over his freckled neck and shoulder.

"Mm, and I'm going to be fucking sore tomorrow, but it was worth it. Right, Marshal?"

"God… You'd make such a pretty Jedi, Le. The prettiest."

"Et moi? Do I get a thank you?" Logan returned with the cloth and began to clean up Leo.

"Consider my crush on Pedro Pascal officially replaced. New celebrity crush is Logan Tremblay in a Mandalorian costume."

"Hear-hear, seconded and the motion passes. But when you give the armor back…" Finn paused and caught Logan's eye with a grin. "Ask if that website has Jedi robes."

#sweater weather lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove #o'knutzy #my fic #ficoween 2023

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sepublic · 2 years

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Honestly, I just… Feel BAD for Belos at this point. He’s easily the most pitiable character in the entire show, Philip Wittebane has probably suffered more than anyone else, in a way that is 100% deserved, karmic, that he totally brought on himself and can’t blame anyone or anything else for. Belos has just been constantly wallowing in this cold bitterness for the vast majority of his existence, been defined by it; He’s like freaking Ebenezer Scrooge.

Philip’s so lonely and desperate for validation that it’ll make him act stupid around Luz as he latches onto her for validation, even as poor Luz cringes because she does NOT want this guy, she didn’t ask for him, but at the same time she has to humor Philip’s pathetic delusions for the sake of everyone else. Thinking you’re better than everyone else, that they’re all lowly and subhuman, is inevitably an isolating experience.

And like! He very easily COULD have companionship, he has an entire SOCIETY and its generations fawning at his feet. But he refuses it, because it doesn’t match Philip’s arbitrary criteria. It’s such a sad waste, really. He wants a playmate and best friend, but under a VERY specific set of circumstances, in his own way, and it’s just… As Eda said, you sometimes just gotta step out and make your own family with what you have, instead of waiting and expecting it; Even IF it’s technically destiny for Philip to have another human ‘friend’ show up.

Is that part of his unhealthy obsession with Luz? She’s a human who helped him back when he was Philip, and even after centuries as Belos, she still didn’t fail to return to him after all that time and effort. It could’ve fed his delusions that Caleb would do the same. Belos is a manchild who misses and longs for his older brother to take care of him like before, and he’s throwing a tantrum over the loss. He wants a replacement, but on his own specific terms, because any other way would acknowledge that he can’t go back to the way things were, and isn’t that something we can all relate to? But even as he does everything to keep things the same or restore them, perform damage control, it just keeps getting worse.

He’s so clearly insecure, needling Luz for approval and validation from a peer. He’s like playdough in the palm of her hands under the right circumstances, look at how she makes Philip feel self-conscious over his fit! He knows and suspects that the world has changed, he’s collected the human garbage over the years, no doubt as some twisted form of sentimentality. The false vision he gives the Coven Heads proves that he’s aware of modern architecture. But maybe that’s just a SURFACE-level change, right?

He’s “How do you do fellow kids” but also to humans because he’s realizing he’s out of touch with THEM too, he’s become so lonely his monstrous form is symbolic, losing for himself what he sought for in others; So yet another thing he’s missed, a specific definition of humanity, is gone too. Belos wants to be told he’s still doing the “human” thing correctly even as he becomes something very much not.

Philip just flips back and forth between so easily vulnerable in his desperation, to frighteningly dangerous and petulant when he doesn’t get what he wants after sacrificing and prostrating himself; It must be terrifying, being on the receiving end of someone who places so much faith and responsibility as a burden on your shoulders, the pressure! He really is like the Collector, more than he’d like to admit. And now that cursed mirror of his, reflected in a literal mirror, has taken everything from him; As did Luz, playing into Belos’ insecurities, it must be utterly humiliating.

All in a way he brought on himself, of course; He CHOSE to project onto poor Luz, convinced himself he was her Eda, her jaded older mentor who finds a kid to adopt and teach, even as she fills the emptiness in his heart left by his forsaken older sibling, lost to the wrong cause. She PLAYED him, how could Luz be so cruel, Philip feels so bad for his poor self and wants to curl up and cry! Eda sometimes acted a bit rash in wanting to impress Luz for her approval, but this…!

It’s like he’s being punished for opening up, exposing his own soft spots in the process to someone he expects to be tender with, and then shuts himself up again once hurt; Because NEVER again, he just gets more and more embittered and cynical, more certain of the world as this cruel place that’s targeting HIM specifically. He rejects humans and thus his own humanity in the process. First Caleb, then the Grimwalkers, now Luz…

And now, Philip’s back home, and it’s all changed, the original idyllic vision that he depended on. It’s all been for nothing. Philip has tortured himself with the transformations, the mutations, and it’s all for nothing. Everyone loves Halloween and witches now. His home is unrecognizable to himself, as is he. He’s gone from a human to a drop of green goop. He’s become the feared cryptid monster alluded to in bedtime stories, the one Caleb would’ve protected him from. Philip’s been through so much mourning and agony over Caleb, over his idyllic and nostalgic childhood. I can’t imagine the physical agony as Philip rebuilt himself, wanting to scream but not allowing himself to remain hidden.

At this point, I HOPE he dies; Not because I’m sick of his character. But because it’d be a mercy killing. With all of his pain and agony and unsustainable wishes, with the childish and naïve certainty that he’s right, leaping at the chance to be told he’s right, the worn-down feeling over the years… For all my scorn, I also feel sympathy for the devil. He’s like Senator Armstrong, despicable but also legitimately hurt, he just wants this stupid world to make sense!

I hope that in death, Philip Wittebane can finally find the peace he’s been searching for, the rest he’s agonized and longed for over lifetimes beyond what any human should endure, amidst the green, green grass of home. There just isn’t any other course for this sad, tormented soul, beyond some blissful ignorance and denial in his dying visions of Caleb accepting him in the afterlife, having made it to heaven after all thanks to Philip’s timely intervention, having been shown the light after all! He DID save Caleb, they can be together, are you proud of me Caleb…?

I fucking LOVE villains with very human grief and loneliness who also totally brought this on themselves and are just so desperately deluded and isolated in their denial, in their futile coping by throwing themselves against this unsustainable idea, just the most PITIABLE and pathetic fucker ever. Still clinging because they’ll have nothing left if they let go. Philip is a sobbing child, kicking and screaming and burping because someone was mean to him, hurt his feelings and took his favorite toy away.

The world is always revolving around HIM and HIS comfort, so Pip can’t comprehend how anyone could be mean to him because he’s like the Main Character or something. He can’t understand that other people have their own lives and needs and wants outside of him, as Caleb did; It drives him MAD. He can’t keep living like this, with this shattered innocence and realization, and hopefully Philip won’t have to anymore. Not by living denial, because that clearly hasn’t worked across centuries of trial and error, chances; But with ignorant death. What a disturbing dude, not just to us but even himself.

It’s funny. Philip convinced himself of a recognition of the self in the other (affectionate) in Luz, while desperately ignoring the recognition of the self in the other (derogatory) in the Collector, whom he’s spent more time with than anyone else. I suppose a kid who truly reminds himself of who he really is would be the worst, because seeing another Main Character like you just hammers in that you’re not THE Main Character if others are; You’re not special if others feel the same as you. Empathy is the worst idea ever to a racist colonizer, imagine.

#the owl house #philip wittebane #emperor belos #character analysis

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chaifootsteps · 8 months

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I keep seeing people being confused as to why Blitz didn't give Fizzaroli the love letter and I get why. I believe what the show was going for was him getting insecure cuz he's seen how loved Fizz is and thought that he couldn't possibly have liked him back. But it could have been better shown. I have an idea but it requires the flashback to be longer for starters.

So we know that Blitz wasn't very good back in the circus days and I would have made it so the whole circus kinda saw him as the weak link in the chain because of it not just his dad. Maybe he's not outright getting bullied but people still look at him with either pity or frustration, maybe he even heard them shit talking him after he failed yet another act.

Secondly, empathize how admired Fizz is in comparison. I noticed that besides Cash giving him that note, no one is really interacting with Fizz they're all just doing their thing. Instead, have people crowd around him, fawn over him and showering him with gifts. That way not only the contrast his more obvious but it would mean that Blitz would have had to sneak into the crowd, get the birthday boy and taking him to a private place which inevitably would have lead to some people in the crowd complaining or giving him the stink eye again.

Ideally I would have also put a scene before the birthday one that establishes Blitz's romantic feelings. So it would have been

Blitz bombs an act, other circus members shit talk him -> Blitz's feelings are established -> birthday and fire

It's not much but I do think it would have made things more clear

This is good stuff and I like it. Because really, it's not that it's anywhere near implausible for Blitzo to feel insecure or that Fizz will never love him back, it's that they've spent their entire lives with Blitzo being the unfavorite and it's Fizz's birthday of all days. What was Blitzo expecting?

It definitely needed something else, because right now, the fact that it's Fizz's birthday feels like nothing more than a flimsy excuse to have someone carrying something that's on fire...which shouldn't be necessary given that it's a damn circus.

#Anonymous #Helluva Boss critical #actual blog post

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pharahsgf · 2 years

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people write fics about yanli coming back to life and immediately fawning over jiang cheng and while i think that's not UNrealistic, it'd be so much more interesting to see her grapple with her devotion to jiang cheng vs her love and fierce protectiveness towards jin ling + every other thing stacked against jiang cheng that is public knowledge in the sixteen years after wei wuxian's death. if she was able to witness a moment between them when jiang cheng didn't know anyone was watching. for all that i think she'd probably never stop loving jiang cheng per se, i can't see how she wouldn't be angry and devastated if she were to actually come to know about some of it. i don't think she'd go as far as verbally eviscerating jiang cheng but i can see her becoming upset and expressing a feeling of betrayal or smth....a sort of "you aren't acting like the a-cheng i knew, how could you do this??" i think her shock and disappointment would curdle jiang cheng's balls more than anything else

the only thing i'm getting from those fics is that jiang cheng enjoyers like to view jiang yanli as his personal hypeman rather than her own character. she has better things to do than coddle & defend her brother all day and any content that disregards this is bound to be, inevitably, Boring!

in canon, jiang cheng waits until she's out of earshot before mentioning his fight with wei wuxian, refrains from expressing his nastier traits when she's around, and generally seems to attempt to control how she views him. this his probably related to his sensitivity re: how he's perceived and judged by others, but it does indicate he knows some of the things he pulls won't fly around her, and i don't doubt his behaviour towards jin ling is one of those things.

if jiang yanli can forgive wei wuxian for allegedly murdering her husband she'll definitely give jiang cheng the benefit of doubt in such a scenario LOL but i don't think she'd trust him around jin ling like, at all. he's her brother but that's her BABY and i have a hard time believing someone that protective and caring would prioritise her 40 yr old brother when her actual child is right there, needing attention and love and guidance and being very impressionable.

#replies #anonymous #sry if asks are slow btw. like slower than usual. i'm on trip ☀️🏖️

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wingsdreamt · 1 year

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Rampage was possibly putting it mildly.

SOLDIER, infantry, and general office staff alike knew when to give the self-proclaimed Speed Demon a very wide berth, and no time was there quite like now, as he would trudge through the 49th floor, a wild glint to his eye, and looking for one Zack Fair.

Roche didn’t need to ask the inevitable questions, word enough from the pretty receptionist down in the foyer as she would gush and fawn to her desk-mate over his raven-haired superior was all the Third needed to understand this particular SOLDIER was on-site. And he knew exactly where to find this sneak thief.

The training simulator.

There were no room for common courtesies, not when there were answers to be had, and so the blond would barge through that door like a bulldozer on a mission, to find the man in the full throws of his latest little gaming session. Thick soles would squeak against the metalic floor as he would stomp towards the control panel and mashed his fist into the bright red button which would bring Zack Fair’s fictional little world crashing down about his very eyes. He hit the thing so hard, in fact, he would surprise himself later that he didn't shove his hand right through the panel itself...

Though at least Roche would wait - still dressed in his usual oil stained attire adorned down in the bowels of the maintenance workshops - until Zack would remove his visor before fixing him with a belligerent glare only accentuated via the way in which he would shake the now empty toolbox - which had once housed a plethora of snacks and treats collected and archived over a vast period of week - in the Second's general direction.

“You have five seconds to explain this to me, Fair…” Roche was certainly not impressed, indicated at least within the dark, low drone of his tone, and an unimpressed Roche is often a rather flighty and dangerous one…

“... think quickly now!”

An abrupt end to any simulation is jarring. Swoosh, like having the ground dropping away beneath his feet to join the wild flip flopping of his stomach when suddenly introduced to the sensation of freefall in the dithering pixels of darkness between virtual reality and the blank feed of his headset in the real world.

“Uh…” Zack inclines his head in the direction of the voice of a man who has clearly found his prey. His eyes flit down to the empty toolbox hanging from Roche’s hand, then back up to Roche himself and his darkening, ominous expression.

The seconds tick by and Zack’s mouth hangs open. No sound comes out, despite his want for it.

“Uhhhhh….” Longer this time, more drawn out as Zack carefully, slowly edges away from Roche’s approach like a cornered animal while pushing up his visor with one hand to peek out at Roche beneath its lip. “I can explain.”

‘You have crappy taste in snacks’ probably isn’t a very good opening statement. In all honesty– Zack had meant well. The absence of Roche’s hoard of sundries, sweet and savory, were orchestrated with good intentions. Replace the hotel lobby, doctor’s waiting room, and tacky gift counter-standard candies with the good stuff and let his dear friend reap the benefits of enjoying real treats while he tinkered away in the workshop. Zack merely forgot about the most critical step in that plan.

Like replacing the actual snacks.

Alright. He can absolutely maybe salvage this before Roche came up and chomped his head clean off– “I was gonna get you a bunch of stuff from my favorite sweets shop! They have stuff from all over the world, and I thought you’d enjoy it a lot. I hid all your stuff and I was going to replace it all with some of the specialty candies and then…” Zack wilts like a neglected house plant. He stands partially bent over, arms hanging limply in front of him with his head down in shame. “And then…I forgot to actually replace them…”

#scorching-passion #roche.#[ μ ] – εγλ 1992 - 0000.#queued.

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residents-of-the-darkforest · 1 year

Text

A Little Help (short story)

Flowers…Flowers…

What flowers would be best? Obviously something that smelled good and looked good, but that didn’t exactly narrow things down. Nothing poisonous. He didn’t trust Aldereyes not to accidentally–or deliberately–eat them.

Nothing bright or pink either, those were simply bleh.

He was padding through the marsh ground, scanning along the high branches above and the lower undergrowth below for what must have been the entire day before something finally caught his eye.

In the distance were dark, large round cluster of flowers growing on the side of a small bend. Red chrysanthemum, he believed they were called. Perfect. And their size would prevent Aldereyes from inevitably choking on them, too.

He bounced over to them, feeling newly energized now that his endless searching was–hopefully–finally over. They didn’t smell bad from where he was when he saw them, and getting closer, he was relieved to find that that didn’t change. The scent was pleasantly earthy. Possibly herby too, but Myrtlewing was too used to those smells to tell if it was actually in the air or just permanently trapped within his nose.

Stretching his paws, he crouched down, lowering his head to nip at a stem–and was barreled over, the breath knocked out of him. He was dazed, but quickly regained enough clarity to leap back onto his paws, arch his back, and hiss at his attacker.

A dark grey tom stared back at him, seeming just as startled, before narrowing his eyes to slits and baring his teeth. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Myrtlewing raised himself up. “A medicine cat can go where they please. And even if I wasn’t one, you’re on my territory.”

The tom blinked, looking around in surprise. “Oh,” he said dumbly. . Then he shot up, gazing all around with more vigor. “The rabbit! Stars, where did it go?”

Rabbit? Myrtlewing didn’t hear any thumping paws. But he didn’t care about that sort of prey right now anyways. Already he was feeling the dark, thrilling waves build up inside his chest, drumming against his heart.

“Oh!” The tom seemed to suddenly remember that Myrtlewing was there. “Right. Are you okay? You’re Myrtlewing, right? I’m Nightfly. Heh. Kinda funny, isn’t it? We both have names about flight. I never really liked it, personally, but yours sounds cool. Were you about to pick these plants? I can do it for you if you like, to make up for the trouble.”

“If you wish.” Myrtlewing watched him carefully, the tip of his tail twitching with anticipation.

Nightfly seemed happy enough to do so, humming as he picked at the stems. All hostility was now gone, as though it were never there to begin with. Perhaps Nightfly thought that because Myrtlewing was a medicine cat, there was no danger. “No roots?” he asked.

“No. All that soil will make a mess.” The waves crashed higher. Myrtlewing could see every detail of Nightfly’s fangs, the spotted gums, chipped tooth on one side. He could see the way his fur lifted with his breathing–breathing that would soon be over.

Time slowed as the stem tore down to the final strings holding it together, as though the green line represented time edging closure to the inevitable end. Then it tore completely, like a signal, and Myrtlewing felt energy bursting beneath his paws. He lowered his legs into the beginnings of a crouch, and–

“Nightfly!” a voice called.

Both he and Nightfly’s heads whipped around. A patrol stood atop the hill, staring down in mingling confusion and amusement. At the lead was a fawn-and-white she-cat who didn’t appear any older than Nightfly. “Did you suddenly decide to change your Clan and life path?”

“Sorry, Daisyface! I was just helping! Sorry for the trouble,” he added to Myrtlewing before bounding up the hill and to the rest of the patrol.

Myrtlewing waited until they were out of eyesight before he let his fur bristle up in a thousand little spikes. He spat, saliva swinging from his lips as he turned to the rest of the flowers and raked his claws across their petals, breathing quickly and harshly until finally his toes were too clogged to shred anything further. Staring down at the mess, he whirled around and stormed back to the camp, the reason he needed the flowers forgotten.

---------------

--Night(kit) and Daisy(kit) created by @ambitiousauthor

They were kits during the time of Gorsedaisy’s Nigthmare! They’re probably not too older than Myrtle, since he would’ve been in his mama’s belly at that time

#nightfly #daisydusk #myrtlewing #wc #wcoc #warriors #warriorsoc #dark tales #dark forest tales #warriors story #warriors short story #myrtlewing story

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Can you do one where the reader is Bonnie’s twin sister and is dating Stefan ?

Salvatore - Stefan Salvatore x Bennet!reader

Masterlist Link

Summary; based on the request

Warnings; making out, slight smut, fingering, swearing, threats, mentions of torture, Bonnie being an adorable protective sister, implied smut

“Shhh.” It surpassed your mouth as a rumble onto your lover’s lips, as yours stretched out into a hushed smile. He too showed an expression of happiness, as he pecked your lips, his hands sliding beneath the material of your top, soothing your back with his calloused and wise hands.

There was a problem rendering you with the necessity of being quiet, it would be a terrible travesty if anyone within the household were to hear you, giggling like a teenage girl (which you were), their Bennet curiosity swiping off their nose and leaping into action as they would surely, and most definitely, take aid to discover what it was that had you amused so.

Their opinion on the immortal men of time, that were transformed into a whole new species by one transfusion of exchanged blood, and a sentence of completed death, was not an optimal nor within preferred context. Vampires had taken so much from the Bennet witches throughout the years, that there was a stifling resentment wedged between the two.

You and Stefan were the exception, the two star crossed lovers entailed in a forbidden romance. He wasn't the enemy, but that did not mean that your sister Bonnie would be pleased with the current partner that you were adjoined by in your relationship. She'd watched Elena fawn over the green eyed charmer, it would be an utter nightmare for her to discover that you were now coiled beneath him on the rectangle of your bed, as he pressed tentative kisses along the length of your neck, smothering you with affection.

It was inevitable that your secret rendezvous would one day be revealed to all, including your sibling, however that wasn't something that you wanted to think about as Stefan's hand crept down, and over your skirt, sliding beneath the flowing material, and up the skin of your thigh. His action extracted a wisp of a gasp out from your mouth, as you pawed at his chest, distinctively staring through silence that you were keen in removing the shirt from his body.

The message was delivered as he reeled it up over his head, exposing his lean and fit body to your eyes. He continued to feather your skin with amorous touches, as he removed your panties by sliding them down your legs, shoving your skirt up so that your intimate skin was bare to his touch. “Stefan....” you whispered his name, as he slowly slid a finger into you. Your eyes fluttered peacefully shut, as his thumb coiled in a circle around your clit, for a moment it was silent, until the door opened.

“Stefan?!” Your sister repeated your words, making you instantly cover up your barren flesh, and your boyfriend to roll off you. There was digress in Bonnie’s eyes, she was severely judging you in your choice of partner, you were well aware of how her mind worked. Her arms became crossed as she rigidly shook her head, Stefan tossed his shirt back over his head, trying to make the predicament that little bit more bearable.

“Bonnie, I can explain...” it was rather obvious what was going on. An explanation wasn’t wanted nor was it needed, everything that was necessary to know was right before her face. The two of you had been caught in the midst prior to sex, which was as awkward as expected, however more so considering your sister remained glaring back and forth between you and the vampire.

“If you’re going to tell me that it’s not what it looks like, I’m calling bull on that.” She stated in an unimpressed manner. “This also means that you invited him in.” Her and Stefan didn’t hate each other, their kinds had simply been used as pawns against one another for far too long, and she hated to see you, her twin, in a cycle with a vampire, especially a Salvatore.

She had a feeling you were seeing someone, call it a fraternal thing. Though out of the entire town, it had to be one of those brothers, the brooding and dangerous siblings that survived by drinking blood and often compelled people close to them to admin their whims. “You have too much trust in people y/n.” She sighed, and she wasn’t entirely incorrect with all things considered.

“But he’s the right person to trust.” You tried to reason with her, but after all the pain that he had put the Bennet family through, it was difficult, and logically so, to believe your words. “Come on Bon.”

“No. I can hardly believe you, you went behind my back to see him, out of all people.” She spoke angrily, her tone wavering with hurt. Stefan took that as the moment that he was meant to intrude, he stood, walking towards your sister, a small and kind smile upon his face.

He appreciated her instinct to protect you, but you weren’t as naive as she thought you to be. It had taken him multiple accounts to even sway you into even agreeing going on a date with him, though he realised that all those rejections had been worth the price of pain, because he had grown significantly upon you.

“I love your sister.” The vampire informed the witch, glancing over at you with a newfound smile on his frozen in age face. Your eyes widened, the two of you had yet to exchange such words, though rather than interrupting by saying them back, you allowed him to continue speaking, despite Bonnie’s light scoff. “I know you don’t like it, but can’t you accept that she’s happy, don’t you want your sister to be happy? That’s why I’m fine my brother is with my ex, I care about his happiness above all.”

“I’m not giving you my blessing.” Her chest heaved at her statement, she was far too protective to give anyone the pass of go ahead at you. “If you hurt her, I will pierce a stake straight through your heart, though I’ll make sure you suffer first. This is not a forgiveness Stefan, as you said, every sibling wants theirs own to be happy, but if I see one tear that you are responsible for, you’ll be praying to god.”

“That is understandable.” Stefan nodded his head, Bonnie sent him one last furrow of her brows before leaving and closing the door, slipping in a few words about keeping the volume down whilst doing so. “Now where we?” He licked his lips after his enquiry, as he crawled onto the bed, and cupped your face, leaning his own down closer to your own.

“In the midst of me saying that I love you back, and that I would take not doubt my sister in the slightest Salvatore, she’ll kick your ass if you hurt me; and so will I.” He kissed you, bringing your hand up to his heart, as he stared his emerald pools into your y/e/c galaxies.

“That’s not a part of my plan.” He promised, only to suffocate your attempted response with his lips once more. You were vastly aware that you had to tone down your noise, to keep Bonnie calm. You could practically feel her stare at the wall in the living room, although you were clearly in your own room. “I plan to spend forever with you.”

“That is a complicated subject, let’s not get to that conversation just yet. I’d rather spend time with your cold body than your even paler and motionless one, Bonnie will kill you if she hears whispers of that possibility.” To sway away from the idea of being like him, you pushed the duvet away from your bottom half. “How about you spend forever between my legs, and then we’ll get back to that.”

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escapewriter · 3 years

Text

secret’s out

request: hiii ! i hope ur day is going well 🥺 can i req #51 and #53 from prompt list 2 for sunwoo? thank youuu <3

paring : sunwoo x reader

genre : fluff, humor, slight angst, established relationship, secret relationship

type : drabble

wc : 639

warnings : none

prompts : “You make me feel alive.” “Who cares about what they think?”

main masterlist || tbz written masterlist

requests are closed

It was a rough week for you. News broke out at school that you were dating the untouchable captain of the soccer team, Kim Sunwoo. The two of you had been dating for a few months and kept it on the low, always making sure to be careful in school and even outside of school. But clearly that wasn’t enough considering that the school’s tea twitter account got hold of the shocking news.

You wanted to desperately disappear as you walked in the hallways of campus, quickly trying to get to your first class. Pairs of eyes shot your direction, many of which were glares of jealousy, made you wish you just called in sick.

This was one of the many reasons why the two of you never openly went out; people are mean and it’s inevitable to avoid. You just wished the news came out in a different way.

Upon entering your classroom, you spot your boyfriend sitting in the spot right next to your desk. You would think he would keep his original spot next to Eric in the back, but the smug look he had on his face proves that he does not care about the stares he’s receiving.

You smile softly to yourself before taking your seat next to him as he quickly kisses your cheek. Glaring, you pinch his thigh as he flinches.

“Ow! Can’t I not greet you in the morning?” An unsettling look crossed your features as you looked over your shoulder towards the corner of people who are known to fawn over Sunwoo.

“You can,” you mumble as you play with your fingers, “but not in front of people. Plus this is Haknyeon’s spot, he’ll be irritated because he has to move at the back.”

Sunwoo grins before leaning closer towards your face as you shy away from him. “Baby, does it look like I care if Haknyeon will be mad? No.” The corner of your mouth twitches up in a nervous smile, the thought of the people in the corner burning holes on the back of your head still lingering in your brain.

Your boyfriend takes notice, he has noticed the second you walked in, but he’s been waiting for you to say something. But his patience runs thin. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m uncomfortable,” your voice shakes nervously as you bite your lower lip, “it feels like everyone wants to rip off my head.” You laugh to yourself to try and lighten up the mood, but soon resume your tense state.

By now, the two of you were used to expressing your emotions to one another. Communication is important to you both, whether it be little or a lot, as long as it’s good communication.

“My love, you don’t have to worry about them. Who cares about what they think? What matters is that we’re happy, right?” He grabs your hand and laces your fingers together. He brings it up and kisses the back of your hand as you pout at how adorable he is. “You make me feel alive.”

“Okay you could’ve stopped at the happy part.” You giggle to yourself as he clutches his heart, a pained expression on his face.

“I express my love and get rejected? Wack.” You both laugh together, the weight on your shoulders long gone, the feeling of eyes burning on you forgotten, and the tense feeling now replaced with love. You were grateful for your boyfriend.

“Kim Sunwoo, I get you’re in love but I’m gonna need you out of my seat.” You both turn to Haknyeon standing in front of the desk, a dead serious look in his eyes as Sunwoo pouts.

You squeeze his hand, silently indicating that it’s okay to go back to Eric. He reluctantly stands up and kisses your cheek once more. “I’ll see you after class.”

#deobiwritersnet #newskynet #destinyversenet #ficscafe #the boyz #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz reactions #the boyz sunwoo #the boyz kim sunwoo #tbz sunwoo #tbz kim sunwoo #tbz #kim sunwoo #sunwoo #escapewriter.request

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teklarn · 3 years

Text

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

character(s): katuski bakugou x gn!reader

a/n : y’all this was gonna be for kirishima bc i love possessive kiri but like it works so well with bakugou. first part will be from third pov, following parts will be from second pov (reblogs are greatly appreciated !! <3)

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention.

genre: uhh idk a lil bit teeny-weeny dash of angst i guess

warnings: mild cursing, possessive bakugou, mutual pining, jealousy, aged-up to third year, possessive y/n, love triangle (square?), implied manga spoilers but not directly stated, tiny bitta tokage slander (sorry lol), slow burn romance (like SLOWWW SLOW BURN), lowkey enemies to lovers, like a lotta tension between bakugou and y/n

word count: 3k

UNEDITED w/ minimal or no typos. i shoved it into grammarly’s ass and prayed for the best okay

here’s pt 2 loves <3

- - -

y/n was used to picking and their skin, irritated at the girls fawning over bakugou. they were always on the sidelines, watching from afar, jealousy warping their heart. could these stupid girls not see that bakugou didn’t even care for their attention?

this time it was setsuna tokage who was begging for his eyes on her. y/n assumed it started in their first year when they’d been put against one another when the classes still had a clashing rivalry. (they still did, much more tame now, however.)

she leaned forwards, tugging on his short sleeve. bakugou’s uniform jacket was slung over one shoulder. he’d lost a lot of his angry demeanor from when he was younger, however it was easy to tell when he was pissed. it was inevitable he wasn’t going to lose his temper entirely.

it was easy to ignore the girls—most of the time, at least. what was ticking y/n off the most was the fact that bakugou didn’t seem pissed at all. his face was neutral, almost like the perfect mirror of todoroki on a daily basis. his eyes were not fired up in his usual ‘get the hell off of me’ manner. he was relaxed.

it didn’t seem like he reciprocated tokage’s feelings, however he wasn’t doing anything to get her off him and it was pissing y/n off to no end.

her sensuous lips were pushed into a slight pucker as she spoke, arching her back in a manner that made it appear much more provocative than she probably intended.

bakugou stood there, eyes flicking from her grasp on his sleeve and back up to her eyes. he didn’t say anything, didn’t move, only kept looking her up and down. not in a romantic way, of course. right?

y/n scoffed at themselves. they swallowed the lump in their throat, shoving down the pinging envy in their chest with it. why wasn’t he reacting?

heat rushed to y/n’s cheeks. why do i care?

tokage was nearing his face. she didn’t have any intent to press her lips to his, which y/n was more than glad for.

y/n had come to the conclusion they had feelings for the explosive boy weeks ago. perhaps they always had, but now that they were fully conscious of them... gosh, it was frustrating.

“you’re staring again.”

y/n turned to see kirishima, the only other person who knew about their feelings for bakugou. he’d lost the twinkle in his eyes after first year. he’d picked up a dominating sneer and a withering glare reserved for anyone who desired to cross his friends. everyone at UA had after what went down. it was a shock most of them survived anything.

“so?” y/n snapped, shoving their hands away and kicking a pebble before them. kirishima and y/n continued their walk through the courtyard.

“so it makes you look creepy.”

“no, it doesn’t. he didn’t even notice me.”

kirishima snapped his fingers. “partially my point here. that’s bakugou katsuki, you really think he’s going to notice you?”

“excuse me?”

kirishima pursed his lips, twiddling his thumbs. “i didn’t mean it like that, y/n. it’s just...well, he has so much to work for.”

y/n raised a brow, questioning his nervous antics.

he continued. “bakugou works hard. probably the hardest worker in UA aside from midoriya. and it’s bakugou. he doesn’t really see a point in relationships. you know that.”

“it’s not like i’m looking for anything with him, though. gosh, kirishima, you’re acting like this is some school girl crush.”

he tilted his head, giving y/n a look that screamed, are you really sure it’s not though?

y/n huffed out a breath, crossing their arms. they’d already vomited up their feelings, why all of a sudden call it a crush? sure, it was a tiny crush that was no larger than the brain of a dinosaur.

“i can swear that it isn’t, kirishima. you’re looking too deep into things,” y/n defended once again.

the red-head held his hands up in surrender, sucking his lips in to avoid another snarky comment slipping out.

the two looked up at the towering building that had been home to them for the past three years: Heights Alliance.

during their second year, the teachers had settled with having the dorms set up in a way that allowed the students’ rooms to be set up in a gender-neutral fashion. they’d been able to select new dorms beside whomever they wished. rooming next to kirishima was a blast, but the only person bakugou wanted to room next to was him.

mina had moved in next to you, and kaminari to her right, and sero right across from y/n.

y/n had no issue being squished between a group notorious for their goofiness and ability to never take anything seriously, however (especially on weekends) they were exceptionally loud to the point they were sure China could hear the blaring music.

friday was finally going to be over in a few hours. y/n felt a giddiness well up inside them, anticipating the weekend. it’d been a rough few days, for everyone, not just them.

class 1A had been bombarded with assignments and pop quizzes. y/n was lucky they finished it all in class. some of the homework was finished when they’d sacrificed their precious free time to get it done, but in the end, it was worth it all.

y/n let their bag sag down their arms as they entered Heights Alliance.

bakugou had just been asked out on a date. for the third time. first time, he’d denied. second time, he had to shove tokage off him. third time, he’d calmly accepted her offer, and she’d skipped away with more than a smile.

she’d squeezed his bicep, gave him a wink and an unnecessary peck on the cheek that bakugou had wiped off the moment she turned her back. he was now in his bathroom and, despite her not wearing any lipstick, he was scrubbing his cheek raw so that the skin was a blotchy red.

the date was tonight, and he found himself wanting to go, and questioning why he accepted in the first place.

bakugou forgot about tokage the second he won that match his first year and tossed her in the cage. he only noticed her when she and her group of friends giggled and passed by. (it was mostly her chortling, but whatever.)

he continued rubbing his cheek aggressively with a scratchy towel. he was repulsed by how he had stood there without bothering to snap at her to leave him alone for the third time.

instead, bakugou’s mind had buffered, and if he was in a video game, he had surely glitched. he should probably just tell tokage he didn’t want to go anymore. in fact, he never wanted to go in the first place and wants to jump out his window and escape.

it was almost comedic. the thought of him going out on a date? goodness, he wanted to throw up.

as he continued scrubbing the cloth along his cheek, bakugou found himself more than grateful for how much his quirk made him sweat. if it wasn’t for the nitroglycerin-like substance he produced, his skin would be scratched and dried up.

a knock sounded at his door. silence came, until the knock found its way to his ears. a set of three knocks, then five, then it was a needy banging.

whoever was on the other side heard his audible groan and shuffling feet dragging across the floor, because they knocked a lot harder.

he swung the door open, hinges crying out.

bakugou’s upper lip curled in disgust. tokage twirled her hair around a finger, eyelashes sticking together with mascara. “katsuki,’ she greeted.

his eyes narrowed on her. “don’t call me that.”

“what should I be calling you, then? baby? or honey?”

oh yes, bakugou wanted to vomit. what even was her name again? whatever, it didn’t matter. “lizard teeth, listen. i-”

“lizard teeth? why would you address me like that?”

“because i don’t know your damn name, alright? i don’t-”

“tokage. need me to spell it out for you?”

“no. shut up. i need to-”

“you should remember it, because i was one of the few who got in through recommendations, remember?”

“and yet here you are in class 1B. can you shut the hell up now?”

“well, you’re just being shitty.”

“why are you here, tokage.” more of a demand than a question, as bakugou’s questions always came across if he ever bothered to ask them.

“because, for our date tonight, I need to pick up some things and I really hope you’re up for coming with me.”

“no.”

“please?”

“no. stop pushing. and I don’t want to-”

“come on, grouchy.” tokage activated her quirk, one scale slipping into his dorm and pushing him towards her. she gripped the collar of his shirt and grinned. “come with me for a short bit, and I’ll count that as our date, m’kay?”

bakugou opened his mouth once more to protest, but tokage silenced him by pressing one slender finger to his lips.

“I’m fully aware you don’t want to go on this date with me.”

he relaxed, shoulders slumping. if bakugou was younger, if he was even just a little bit more stubborn as he had been before, perhaps he’d be out of this mess already, or never in it in the first place.

tokage let her hand fall back to her side—both of them. the scale returned to her lower calf; the jet-black leggings she wore now had a perfect hole in them.

“do you think i’m dense, bakugou?”

“then why ask me out?” bakugou felt himself leaning back.

“because if i can get under the skin of that stupid little...what do you like to call them? stupid little extras? yeah, that stupid extra who can’t stop fluttering googly-eyes at you every minute, then i’ll be perfectly content.”

“who the hell are you talking about?”

“alright, so you are oblivious.” tokage took a step back and crossed her arms. “are you both unaware of how you’ve both been pining for each other’s attention? y/n, that classmate of yours.”

“...y/n?”

“do you know their name or do i have to describe in excruciating detail what they look like?”

“no, no i know who you’re talking about. but you’ve got to be shitting me, alright? there’s nothing there.”

“i’m from 1B, and if there’s something going on in 1A, monoma is going to tell us.”

“shithead, get out of my face.”

“you still have to go out with me.”

“why the f-”

“because, bakugou. if you don’t, i’ll be sure to make sure y/n knows about your feelings, whether they’re real or not.”

“why would they care? more importantly, why would you care?”

y/n kicked their feet up and down, a lollipop in their left hand, phone in their other. kirishima was in his bathroom while y/n was playing a game on their phone. they’d stashed away a bunch of candy back in their dorm and had snatched a handful for the two of them to share while hanging out in kirishima’s.

he was currently combing a hand through his hair, and then proceeded to rummage through his cabinets.

kirishima emerged with his lips puckered. “want to come to the drug mart with me?” he stuck a thumb to his door.

“what for?” y/n didn’t take a glance away from their phone.

“this.” he chuckled softly. when y/n looked up, kirishima had two fingers parting his hair. the roots were a jet black, just growing long enough to become the slightest bit visible.

“you’re going to fry your hair.” they were already shoving their phone away and tossing their sucker into the trash bin.

“it’s a monthly tradition to do this, y/n. it would be fried by now if i was bad at it,” he joked, tapping his roots once more.

y/n laughed alongside him as they exited the room.

it was late, and the lights made everything feel like it was set in a world of backrooms. when the rest of the world is sleeping, it is more than quiet, and nothing feels real―possibly in the best ways.

kirishima scratched at his chin, staring intensely at the hair-dye boxes lined neatly on the shelf before them.

y/n tapped their foot, not out of impatience, but because of the creep staring at them through the aisle. yes, through.

between the boxes of hair dye and scattered makeup products, the beady eyes of setsuna tokage could be seen. she smirked when she tugged her hostage closer.

bakugou’s height had shot up to around six feet in the past two years, so all that was visible was his chest and the black sweatshirt loosely hanging off it, however his grumbling and stream of colorful language was unmistakable. it was him.

“you okay?”

y/n’s head snapped to their friend. “what?”

“you seem on edge. is something wrong?”

“nothing. nothing is wrong.”

“you sure? if you need to talk, i’m here.”

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. don’t worry.”

“alright.” kirishima held up a box, wiggling it in one hand. “got it.” he gave y/n a toothy grin.

“good.” y/n snatched his arm up and dragged him along.

“woah,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle, tugging his arm back. “what’s got you in a hurry?”

“nothing,” y/n said, shrugging. “just wanna get home.”

gosh, kirishima knew them too well. his eyes squinted just a bit, and there was that playful grin lingering on his lips, just ghosting over his face, barely visible to anyone who didn’t know him. instead of pointing out the obvious, which was standing just a few aisles behind, kirishima decided to play around. “goodness, honey, the kids are going to be fine back home.”

heat raced to y/n’s face. “what?”

kirishima winked. “it’s nice that you care about them, but care about me a little, would’ya? i miss you, too,” he said a tad louder.

this caught bakugou’s attention. his eyes clashed with y/n’s, and he didn’t look away until y/n did. even a few seconds after, y/n still felt the blaring heat of his gaze upon them.

kirishima slung an arm around his friend, enjoying their flustered image. of course, he would never even think about pushing boundaries. the thought never crossed his mind, but he knew they’d let him know if they were uncomfortable.

when y/n looked back as kirishima led them away, bakugou’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes were alight with jealousy.

of course, y/n didn’t notice the emotion flaring.

tokage smirked, clutching his loose sleeve.

y/n looked back to their friend, and kirishima flashed them another knowing smile. bakugou was getting antsy with his best friends’ hands all over y/n. well, not all over, but a tap on the shoulder was enough.

despite the way kirishima’s face dropped, y/n swiped his arm away and wandered over to tokage a bit more angrily than intended. they glanced up to bakugou, who was reaching up to retrieve something for tokage.

“what brings you guys here? didn’t expect to see you.” inside, y/n was screaming. gosh, their heart was angry.

“just running errands together.”

bakugou? going for errands? with tokage?

“cool, cool,” y/n said, nodding. “i was doing the same with kirishima.” they paused, awkward silence filling the space.

impatient as ever, bakugou tossed the item into tokage’s basket and clicked his tongue.

y/n didn’t know why. why were they being so stubborn? despite their protesting thoughts and their entire body screaming to hold back, y/n wrapped their fingers around bakugou’s wrist.

“actually, bakugou, i have something to ask you. i need your opinion on it. you’re smart, right?” y/n’s voice lifted at the end. although they couldn’t see the, what the hell are you doing face kirishima was making behind them as subtly as possible, they could definitely feel the glare burning into their back.

“tch, of course i’m smart, shithead.”

“good.”

“we’re actually kind of in a rush,” tokage spat out, snappier than usual.

“do you think i fight okay? i need someone with a perspective like yours to know if i do.”

“what kind of question is that, dumbass? i don’t care if you can fight well or not, just so long as i can beat the shit outta ya.”

tokage let out a low growl.

y/n smirked, hand still around bakugou’s wrist. “i’d like to know if i can beat you, then, so you can tell me if i’m good or not.”

ohgoshohgoshohgosh where was this coming from?

bakugou squinted. he leaned in closer, like he didn’t hear them. “speak up.”

y/n knew he heard them correctly, but he got awfully close.

feeling a little sneaky themselves, y/n ghosted their fingers over his strong jaw, tilting his head closer so they could speak clearly into his ear. “let’s train together,” y/n said, staring tokage dead in the eyes.

it was a stupid rivalry, really. they’d both been accepted through recommendations. they’d been friends all throughout middle school, and yet when y/n made it into 1A, tokage felt it a necessity to excel at everything and rub it in their face. no way was y/n letting them get away with this.

“i want to see how strong i am.” y/n let their voice drop just a bit. “you’re strong, right?”

“are you taunting me?” bakugou said, voice nearly a whisper. he still hadn’t moved from leaning down and hadn’t bothered to move y/n’s fingertips from his jaw.

“absolutely not.” y/n sent a small grin in the direction of their rival. “let’s just see who can beat who. we’ve never been against one another like this.”

tokage huffed, tugging bakugou back. his eyes were softened when they met y/n’s, and there was simmering, small grin on his face.

tokage, however, looked less intrigued. “he’s not your boyfriend.”

y/n shrugged, already backing away. they spread their arms in a mockery of surrender. “he’s not yours, either.”

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