#this sounded way more intimate than whatever people would usually tell each other laying in the same bed

[motorcycleboy9]

could've just said that he and johnny are gay af no need to bring in the karate philosophy

#a weird way to come out but it's okay i support you daniel #this sounded way more intimate than whatever people would usually tell each other laying in the same bed #karate husbands lore #lawrusso #nickyapping

[chewiedon]

HANABI | AKAZA

I pulled out my manga for this yall better be thankful

HANABI

Nights between (Y/N) and Akaza were peaceful. Despite how exciting a forbidden relationship might sound between two people, sneaking out every night and skipping through missions seemed more troubling sometimes more than anything.

Anything that had anything to do with secrecy was usually illegal inside the Demon Slayer Corps, especially with any kind of demons. The intimate relationship between Akaza and (Y/N) was sketchy to say the least, sneaking out at night for midnight kisses or words of longing. (Y/N) already came from a family that had been completely slaughtered by the likes of demons, she killed them for a literal job. Not to mention it was upper moon three. It crossed her mind more than she could count that Akaza could be using her. A part of her didn’t care.

“You seem troubled, did you get back from a tough mission?” Akaza’s sweet voice made way to your ears.

The moon was in the middle of sky, the two of them were laying in the center of a clearing. Bathing in moonlight.

(Y/N) sighed, “Not exactly… I’m just thinking,” her gaze was fixated on the sky above them.

Upper moon three let out an exaggerated groan, “You’re always thinking! You overthink too much for your own good sometimes, just enjoy the moment without stress! I’m here after all.”

A smile made its way to (Y/N)’s lips, but the feeling of sinking hadn’t vanished. Perhaps it was her instinct telling her to run away. Akaza would rant about his fellow demon ranks, but never had he once spoken about their king. The both of them were sure that Kibitsuji knew about their get togethers, it’s impossible to hide anything from him. He would tell (Y/N) about the extraordinary world of being a demon and immortality, but how (Y/N) would have the chance to fall in love with him all over again as a demon. Demon’s weren’t allowed to love, the soft fluffy feeling and the suffocating warmth of love was completely illegal. Akaza promised his beloved how he’d turn her into a demon once she had reached past her prime, therefore he could stop the aging before it got too drastic.

(Y/N) would entertain his thoughts and ideas because she was in love with him, and his voice.

Akaza was immortal, he had all the time in the world to do whatever and to entertain whatever weird ideas and missions his king may have for him. Instead of hunting Hashira, he spent his time basking in the presence of a soft hearted human he fell in love with. He doesn’t understand love, at least he likes to think he doesn’t. He Isn’t allowed to love, but he can’t control his racing heart once (Y/N)’s lips meet his.

“It looks as if the moon is setting, it hurts me to see you leave, but I have a feeling we’ll see each other soon enough.” Akaza spoke, his eyes lingering on the light shade of the sky.

The human girl nodded and waved him off as he ran off, as he left the stirring in her stomach seemed to disappear. But so did the feeling of warmth she so desperately longed for.

After a few minutes of still laying in the grass, reluctantly she stood up and went the opposite direction she saw her lover run to.

❆

“Delicious!”

“Delicious?”

“Delicious!”

Rengoku Kyojuro, or rather the Flame Hashira was probably the most eccentric demon slayer (Y/N) had ever met in her journeys. She wasn’t a hashira herself, she was a Kinoto— a lower rank. Therefore, she’d never been on another mission with another hashira or even a group of people. Three other lower rank demon slayers were to be meeting her and Rengoku here, she had gotten there just plain early.

A demon slayer with burnt burgundy hair sat across from her, “There’s a demon in this box?” (Y/N) asked, pointing at the wooden crate set next to her.

Tanjiro Kamado, the demon slayer in question, was more than happy to explain his situation to her. Waving his hands in an animated manner as he told his story, keeping her attention fixated on him. Before anybody could even begin to process what was happening, they were already unconscious. Everything faded away so quickly as (Y/N)’s eyelids had started to feel unbelievably heavy. Before she or her comrades knew it they were fast asleep.

Everything felt like a haze, but she had never dreamed so vividly before. Akaza and (Y/N)’s hands were intertwined as the loud beat of the fireworks painted the sky. The demon always had a fascination with fireworks, a nostalgic feeling pulling at his heart. Every year he could, he would go back to the fireworks he loved so dearly, seeing it light up his beloved's features.

Summer was his favorite time of the year, no matter how many centuries he’s had to live through. He’s always been drawn to the festivals, and the colorful works of art in the sky. Akaza had no idea why this warmth filled his chest whenever the hues reached his eyes. His heart and stomach swelling with a longing feeling…

(Y/N) and Akaza were sitting on a cliff, far above the chattering of other humans celebrating their summer festival below. Silence filled both of their presence, but not stiff or unwelcome. The booming of the fireworks and the quiet ‘ahh’ and ‘ohh’ that would escape from Akaza’s mouth under his breath. His eyes were wide like a child. However, something felt off about the serenity.

Despite how hard she always tried to ignore it, there was always a menacing presence that radiated from Akaza. It wasn’t present at all, and it made (Y/N)’s nerves go wild.

Something was missing.

Missing..?

A feeling of dread sunk into (Y/N)’s stomach as the sparks in the sky had distorted, her vision going temporarily blurry adjusting to the new shapes and colors. Before her eyes could adjust, the sky remained blank before lighting up with more fireworks.

“Did you see that?” (Y/N) asked- suspicion evident in her tone. She leans on her lover's shoulder to catch his attention.

The demon shook his head, “No?”

(Y/N) shook it off as a play to the brain or a trick inside her mind. The feeling of dread never left her stomach, her instincts and adrenaline begging her body to move and to run.

Run from what? What was so dangerous?

Despite the desperate calls from her nervous system and her aching head, she remained still, eyes still fixated on the colorful night sky.

Wake up…

Wake up..?

Wake up from what?

A rush of adrenaline came to (Y/N) as memory flooded inside her brain… She was no longer sleeping upright where she left herself. Groaning out loud as she felt a pressure crushing her legs completely, an entire train was on top of her lower half. (Y/N) could feel her pelvic bone slowly crushed against the ground, her muscles constantly flexing in hope to alleviate the pressure against her bones.

“(Y/N)! You’re alive!” Rengoku Kyojuro’s voice rang inside her ears, “We got worried for a second since you didn’t wake when we burned your ropes! I’m sorry to keep you waiting, I’ll lift the train as much as I can. Can you still move your legs?”

(Y/N) had looked up to him with wide eyes, he didn’t have a speck of dirt on him. She nodded softly. Rengoku squatted down where the car came off the ground, letting out a grunt as he lifted it a good three inches. (Y/N) squirmed out the moment her bones were lifted from being pressed into the dirt below, feeling the broken shards of her calves grinding together as she moved.

“I didn’t mean for you to get crushed, I’m really sorry you had to hurt because of my lack of concentration, please forgive me for your injuries,” Rengoku interrupted her before she could rebuttal, “I will buy you lunch when we get out of here!”

She sat up, leaning on the car to support her weight, “You don’t have to do anything, I should have woken up way sooner and helped you all out. I should be the one saying sorry.”

A loud explosion interrupted both of their thoughts entirely, the same menacing demon presence filled (Y/N)’s veins. As soon as the dust cleared her worst nightmare was here and in the flesh.

Akaza was present and he had the intent to kill.

The Hashira and Akaza were engaged in some sort of conversation, but it was short lived when Rengoku tried to strike him.

(Y/N)’s heart stopped beating in her chest, dread overwhelming her system. Within the blink of an eye there was a standoff between the Flame Hashira and the upper rank demon. She’d never felt more of a stomach ache. As the flames arose from the Hashira’s katana, she couldn’t help tears slipping down onto her cheeks.

Within the dust the both had kicked up, the most she and the others could see was the indistant shine of Rengoku’s katana hitting the fleeting moonlight. Tanjiro and Inosuke had their swords in hand, waiting for some kind of opening to jump into battle.

Destructive Death: Compass Needle!

The silhouette of a snowflake with kanji spread on it erupted from Akaza’s feet before launching Akaza forward. Rengoku deflected it with the side of his sword, the movement of their bodies kicking up dirt into the air again. Hiding their bodies with the brown dust, you heard a yell.

“Your fighting is almost perfect, your spirit absolutely flawless! Why would you ever want to stay in that weak shell of a human body?! You have so much more potential as a demon! Kyojuro why?!” Akaza yelled over the flurry of fists and strikes.

Rengoku huffed, ignoring his protests for a moment before replying, “Growing old and dying the true beauty of the human you’ve got it mixed! The fleeting life of a human gives us meaning and purpose!”

As the two shouted back and forth, (Y/N) could see the brief glow upon the horizon of the rising sun. Panic filled her body, she knew what her duty was. She had been completely useless the entire fight and now she had a purpose, Rengoku was one of the strongest demon slayers and he could only continue to grow and pass those strong genes on.  (Y/N) was in love with a demon and could bear him no offspring, no strong children to give.

She knew what purpose she served in this moment. Despite her aching bones, and internal bleeding she forced herself to stand. All the speech between the men completely blurred, all (Y/N) could hear was her pounding heartbeat inside her eardrums. Gritting her teeth, she stuck her foot out into Rengoku’s side and propelled him a good meter away from where he originally was. There was no possible way for her to dodge her lover rocketing towards her, before she could even exhale his fist broke through her stomach.

At first Akaza thought he was hallucinating until he smelled his dear lover’s perfume, the floral sunny smell he loved so dearly. The dirt settled around the both of them, breathless and in shock he muttered his lover's name.

His worst nightmare, his worst thought had happened right in front of his eyes.

“...(Y/N)..?”

Soft and delicate (Y/N) wrapped her hands around his upper arm, trying her best to smile at him. The taste of iron invading her mouth.

“The sun is coming, leave me.”

Before the demon could protest or try and find a solution to heal her, (Y/N) was already pulling his arm out of his body. Akaza could never dream of hurting his beloved on purpose, but the fact that he was the cause of her death made his legs want to give out. The horizon glowed, the morning sun beginning to peek over the hills. Upper moon 3 slid his arm out, covered in her blood. Watching her fall to the floor, the two younger demon slayers behind them protesting loudly. Desperately swinging their weapons pathetically trying to kill the demon. As soon as Akaza’s skin began to burn his legs began moving on instinct, into the dark thicket of woods. He was crying, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had ever cried.

If being a demon meant that he had to see his only loved one, the woman he held such regard and love for needed to die. Then he was having second thoughts about being a demon.

By the time Akaza had begun to flee, (Y/N) was already dead on the ground.

A soft smile plastered on her face.

“I wish to see the fireworks with you in another life.”

sukuna? sukuna these balls

#akaza kimetsu no yaiba #kny akaza #akaza x reader #kny x reader angst #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer akaza #demon slayer angst #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x female reader #doing ur mom

[frankiekatt]

Wowy hii, saw that you're writing for slasher, so here I am!

Can I plz have some hcs about any slashers with s/o, but their s/o is a literal gremlin, like they're not serious at all, always joking and annoying people around, but sometimes might be quite soft and quiet.

Thank you and have a nice day! ❤️

This was fun to write lmao

Warnings: Sexual harassment, NSFW, murder, blood, canabilism

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Stu Macher, Michal Myers

Slashers With An S/O That Never Takes Anything Seriously:

Thomas Hewitt:

Thomas is a little overwhelmed by your personality at first.

He’s a quiet and reserved man who’s never had any kind of friends, so goofiness and jokes can make him feel uneasy at first.

But!! He gets used to everything very quickly!!!

Thomas loves everything about you and he finds you to be incredibly charming.

He can get a little anxious when he sees you annoying Hoyt because he doesn’t want his uncle to do anything bad to you in irritation/retaliation.

Your jokes are always a stress reliever for him, since he spends most of his days in a dark basement, surrounded by blood and gore. Your humor just shines a little bit of light on his day, and he loves you for that!

While Luda Mae and Hoyt might not like the fact that you never take anything seriously, Thomas finds it relieving. At the beginning of your relationship, Thomas was terrified of losing you because he thought you would be terrified of all screams, murder, and cannabilism, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that you didn’t pay much mind to it.

Thomas’ family mostly saw you as a clown, but Thomas could only ever look at you as the brightest ray of sunshine that has ever graced his life.

After all, he was the only one that saw your softer side.

Your soft and quiet side mostly shone through during the evening. Something about the sunset and cicada chirping calmed your heart.

You would often take Thomas by the hand and lead him outside to sit on the front porch with you, so the two of you could cuddle and watch the sunset together.

Thomas was always so used to your voice, because you loved to talk about anything and everything, so your temporary quiet nature was new, yet comforting.

During these moments, there didn’t need to be any talking between the two of you. You deep emotional bond allowed you both to communicate through actions.

You would lay your head on Thomas shoulder, stroking his chest, and Thomas would wrap his big arms around your smaller frame, resting his masked cheek against the top of your head.

This was Thomas’ way of saying, “I love you, you’re the best thing in my life,” and your way of saying “I could never live without you.”

Bo Sinclair:

:|

You’re gonna annoy the fuck out of this boy

Sometimes you both wonder how the two of you even got together, but the nights you and Bo spent pleasuring each other, going round after round, reminded you both how. (Your both just sexy okay its that simple)

Bo was a serious guy, so he was a little miffed that he was always the one having to take the lead in everything since you just couldn’t stop making a joke out of everything.

Sometimes you would actually make him really irritated due to your tendency to irk people endlessly, so he would have to step away to cool off and blow off some steam.

Sometimes he would yell at you in anger, which always made him feel like shit after, so he tended to stalk off to his shop to calm down before speaking to you.

You would have to go see him a couple hours later to wrap your arms around him from behind and shyly apologize to him.

He favored these moments the most.

Your voice quieter than usual, focusing on just him, touching him gently.

He would always accept your apologies, of course, and would let you know by kissing your lips softly.

Bo liked to take advantage of your softer side by lifting you up by your waist and setting you on the hood of whatever car he had been working on and kissing down your neck.

As revenge, Bo liked to draw out his teasing as long as possible. Kissing down your neck, chest, stomach, massaging your pussy through your skirt, palming your breast roughly.

It gets to a point where you just have to tell him, “Bo, I need you to fuck me.”

And he would oblige.

He would take you right then and there, on the hood of the car.

The metal beneath you was always shockingly cold, making you shiver against Bo’s chest.

“You cold, Darlin,” Bo would ask teasingly as he pulled your panties off. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you right up.”

He would spend hours licking your pretty pink pussy if he could. He licks and sucks and kisses your most intimate part until you're shaking and crying above him, begging him to fuck you sensless.

After he’s satisfied with your helplessness, he’ll lean back up and ram himself inside of you. There have been many nights where he has taken you gently and slowly in his garage, holding your hand with every thrust, kissing your sweet lips to quiet your whimpers, but tonight was different. There was a primal need shared between you two. Bo wanted to let his frustrations on through loving you, and you wanted to be taken hard and fast.

When the two of you are done, you lounge around inside the car to catch your breath, holding hands. Everything seems so perfect.

Until-

“Hey, Bo? What did the toaster say to the slice of bread?”

“.....”

“I want you inside me! Eh ha ha..”

:////

Lester Sinclair:

!!!!!

You like constantly joking and never taking things seriously? He does too!!

Lester would find you absolutely hilarious. Every joke you cracked would have him doubling over in laughter. Which would make you double over in laughter. Which would make Lester laugh harder, because now you both have the giggles and both of your laughs are just too infectious.

Everytime the two of you would go to Ambrose to visit his brothers, you guys would annoy the hell out of Bo and Vincent. Bo just wants to be left alone to work in his shop but instead he’s stuck listening to you tell a 40 minutes story about how you burnt dinner last night.

And Vincent just wants to be left alone to paint and sculpt but instead he’s here listening to Lester crack jokes that are a.) not funny and b.) don’t make any sense. -_-

Your and Lester’s trailer is always filled with so much love and laughter and the two of you could not be any happier.

You both have your own soft and quiet moments that hit at random times.

Sometimes it happens when the two of you are play fighting in the living room, howling with laughter. You both fall to the floor, wrestling and giggling until the both of you run out of breath and just gaze at each other as you lay on the carpet.

“You look so cute,” he giggles.

“No, YOU look so cute!”

“W-well!!! I love you!!”

“Uhm...well...I love you MORE.”

And it just turns into an argument about who adores the other more.

Billy Lenz (1974):

The perfect couple.

Literally.

The two of you are always joking around, cackling and goofing about every little thing.

Billy has finally found his soulmate and he could not be happier.

He two of you prank the sorority girls together, making sex sounds in unison to sound even more vulgar.

Everytime you crack a joke, you get worried Billy is joking because of how hard he’s laughing.

“Umm Billy you okay? It wasn’t even that funny.”

“HA haha...piggy makes me laugh...Billy loves your jokes.”

Needless to say, your relationship is filled with smiles, laughter, and praise.

Billy will tell you you’re the funniest person he’s ever met and he wants to keep you forever.

You tell Billy you love how much he laughs at your antics and that you can’t live without him.

It’s impossible to annoy Billy. It’s just not feasible.

Any time you try, he’ll just giggle and pat your head, telling you you’re his ‘favorite piggy ever.’

He LOVES when you annoy the sorority girls thoug!

Hearing you moan and squeal and speak so sexily vulgarly to Barb and Jess makes Billy so proud. And horny.

Almost all of your sexual encounters are filled with complete silliness.

Sometimes, however, the joking and cackling subside. The two of you will just be chilling, nothing else to do, and you just feel the need to profess your love for your boyfriend.

“I love you so much Billy.”

Billy will look startled at your sudden outburst, before he breaks out in a huge grin, launching across the room to tackle you into a hug.

“Billy loves you too! Billy loves you more than anything!!!”

Now the rest of your day will be spent in Billy’s arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

Stu Macher:

Match made in Heaven!

Stu loves to joke around.

He hardly ever takes anything seriously.

He annoys everyone.

And once he meets you? It's love at first sight.

The two of you are always in detention because you guys just cannot shut up in class. You are always disrupting something.

But you know what that means!

Detention dates <3

As long as the two of you together, Stu couldn't care less about where he was.

He and Billy appreciate your habit of not taking anything seriously because once the murders start occuring, you don't think too much about it, never asking questions or arousing suspicion around your boyfriend and his bestie.

When Billy had told Stu his plan to kill Sydney, and asked him if he was going to kill you as well, Stu’s heart sank.

He remembers when he was dating Tatum, just a few months ago, before he broke up with her for you, he had no qualms about killing her,

But you?

He loved you. You were his other half. The one person who understood him, who accepted him. He could never hurt you.

“Nah dude. I’m leaving her out of this.”

That night, he sneaks through your bedroom window to see you.

“Stu! (where the hell have you been loca) What’re you doing here?”

The sparkling smile you flash at him and the love swimming in your big, beautiful eyes makes him feel even guitler.

He feels bad that you’re dating a serial killer. He thinks you deserve better, but he would never let you go.

“Hey babe! I just missed you!”

You rushed over to him, dressed in kitty cat pajamas, and hugged him tight. He had only snuck through your bedroom window a couple of times before, and they had all been planned. Seeing him in your room as a surprise made your heart burst with happiness.

Stu led you to your bed and pulled you up onto his chest to cuddle you. It was late, and the both of you were tired. Stu just wanted to lay with you in silence, appreciating your presence.

You didn’t feel like releasing your usual high energy at the moment. Right now, you just wanted to fall asleep on your boyfriend’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

Michael Myers:

Girl

Michael does not appreciate your antics.

Annoying him is easy, but you would never know that.

He keeps his emotions very private, so when he is annoyed he’ll just stalk away from you.

He does not think you’re funny :(

He does enjoy your quiet moments. He likes to come home when your energy is low.

He’s usually covered in blood when this happens, so you clean him up without cracking a joke which he appreciates.

You’ll turn on a movie for the both of you, and Michael lets you cuddle up with him.

He does like you, he just doesn’t want you to know that...

#frankie writes #frankiekatt #slashers #slashers x reader #slashers imagines #slashers x you #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt imagines #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #Bo sinclair #bo sinclair imagines #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #house of wax #lester sinclair #lester sinclair imagines #lester sinclair x reader #leaster sinclair x you #billy lenz #billy lenz imagines #billy lenz x reader #billy lenz x you #black christmas #black christmas 1974 #scream #stu macher #stu macher imagines

[cades-outsider]

Johnny Cade X Reader *SMUT*

Warnings: Your first time with Johnny Cade

Irresistible

The feeling of Johnny's touch always lingered on your skin, his burning touch sent sensations that ran through your veins in such a way. It left goosebumps on your skin, the kind of goosebumps that only Johnny could give you.

  The sensation was almost like nothing you had ever felt before, his touch only ever made your skin burn with anticipation in the best way possible. It made your heart race ten times the normal speed.

  Your pupils would dilate times ten, so much so that your eyes would cloud up with love and lust only towards Johnny. Your cheeks would brighten from the inside effect he could cause. Your chest would tighten from anticipation and excitement. Every part of you felt like it was on fire just by Johnny lightly caressing your skin.

  You didn't know this, but your touch did the exact same for Johnny Cade. His moans and drawn out whimpers would let anyone know how desperate he was for your touch. The same tingling sensation would run through his veins causing him to let out a strain of moans from the contact of just your finger tips or your lips in contact with the sensitive skin on his neck.

You and Johnny had never had sex before, the farthest you both had went were intimate make outs. You hadn't even seen each other naked yet, for Johnny the farthest he's ever went was sliding his hands under your shirt and resting them on yours hips; not wanting to go any further incase you go uncomfortable.

  For you the farthest you went with Johnny was grinding against him, Johnny was to shy to ask for anything and he was to shy to do something about it. He didn't want to go over boundaries, and sometimes he was too afraid to ask so you both would just end the make out with slow pecks and hand movements.

  Neither you or Johnny were experienced, so when it finally did happen it would be both of your firsts. The Curtis's were having a family dinner with the whole gang, and being apart of the gang with Johnny they insisted you both came and stayed for their annual family dinner.

  Johnny agreed but only if you were going, you agreed as well wanting to spend time with your second family. Well technically they would be more like your first since you barley seen your real family, they were always gone on job trips or vacation. You were happy that they didn't drag you alone to say the least, that meant you got to spend extra time with Johnny.

  The times your parents weren't home which would usually be all the time; as of now your parents were home but resting for a trip they had planned the next day ahead. During these times when your parents weren't home you would take Johnny in and let him stay with you, you'd feed him, let him take showers, wash his clothes, and let him sleep in your room with you with the price of cuddles of course.

Both you and Johnny entered the Curtis's cozy home, everyone greeted you both with warm welcoming smiles and greetings. As always Darry came out of the kitchen wearing an old apron, drying his wet hands on the apron that rested around his waist as he let out a warm smile "make yourselves' at home" He tilts his head to the unoccupied couch.

You grabbed Johnny's hand with a warm smile and walked over to the couch, after greeting everyone yourselves you and Johnny take a seat close by. The room was always a bit tight considering there was only two rocking chairs, a love seat that could hold four people and a coffee table.

You sat closer to the arm of the couch, Johnny sitting so close to you your arms and legs were touching. Not that you minded, but his touch always just seemed to make your body light up in flames. A small blush covers your cheeks as the small sounds of Mickey Mouse playing ignited the room.

Two-bit sat on the floor as always, with a whole chocolate cake also not surprisingly; he always spoiled his dinner first as Darry would like to call it. You interlocked you and Johnny's hand together, resting both your intwined hands on the middle of your leg but still super close to your thigh.

Your exposed legs and his touch only made your skin burn more with anticipation, you decided it would be a good day to wear your flowered skirt that went just past your mid thigh. Since it was a hot and sunny day out, you also matched it with a black tank top that had a string tied in the middle way of your chest, with your worn out white converses.

Now you were starting to rethink the whole skirt idea, but maybe it would come in handy later on. Soon Dallas entered the house and all of a sudden the once small, quite house was now full of laughter and small talk.

Soon dinner was ready and Darry was calling everybody in the kitchen, Pony boy was setting the plates and silverware. Steve grabbed a few extra chairs for everyone and made room at the table, Darry had made his famous mash potatoes, steak, and vegetables; everyone's favorite.

Everyone over flooded their plates seeing as Darry made enough for three and a half families. You were seated next to Johnny on your left and Pony boy on your right. Everyone said grace before digging in and stuffing their faces with delight.

"This is really somethin' Darr" Dallas complimented with his face full, as everyone followed behind with praises and thank you's of the food.

Darry responded with a simple 'Thank you' in return before stuffing his face. Soon everyone was stuffed from the nice meal, though once Two-bit finished swallowing his last bite he sighed stuffed before standing up from his seat "I got the chocolate cake" he sates before rushing to the counter and grabbing the cake causing everyone to let out a little chuckle.

Everyone was able to eat a thin slice of chocolate cake while Two-bit on the other hand was back at his mission of sitting on the floor watching Mickey and eating the rest of the cake using his hands.

Darry collected all the empty plates and silverware before placing them in the sink, starting to wash the dishes. You kissed Johnny on the cheek and let him know you were going to help Darry with the dishes. He responded with a gentle nod before pecking your lips and taking a seat on the couch beside Dallas, Dallas immediately grabbed Johnny in a head lock and ruffled up his hair.

"Hey Darr, need some help" You offer, walking over to the sink.

"Sure Y/n, that'd be nice" He smiles moving over to let you stand by the strainer, while he washed and rinsed the dishes you dried them off with the kitchen towel given to you.

In a matter of five minutes you both had managed to finish up the dishes faster than just one person would've. Walking into the living room you take an open seat beside Johnny, resting your head on his shoulder to which Johnny lays his head against yours and snuggles into your side.

Soon the laughter and fun times ended once the sun went down and it started getting dark, you and Johnny said your goodbyes but before you could leave the porch Dallas came running over to Johnny. He tugged him away for a second before slipping something in Johnny's hands, it reflected off of the moonlight and you could tell it was a packet of some sort.

Once Johnny took a look at whatever it was he quickly shoved it in his Jean jackets pocket with an embarrassed blush covering his features "good luck" Dallas grinned, with a cheeky wink as he walked back into the house.

Johnny walked back up to you and slipped one of his hands in yours while his other rested in his pocket. It was quite chilly out, causing Johnny's small frame to shake from the cool air. You only shook once but that was enough for Johnny to pull off his jacket and drape it over your shoulders, your head snapped up to Johnny's.

"Johnny m' fine really, here" You tried to give it back to him but he refused to take it back, his small frame still shaking.

"Nah' Y/n I'm good really" He tries, but you clearly see behind his shaking features.

Grabbing Johnny's arm you lift up the jacket letting his arm slide through the collar but also draped around your shoulders, as you drape your shoulder around his letting the jacket cover his freezing frame.

You look up at Johnny, catching his loving gaze as he stares back at you. No one had ever really put him first like you have, even if he protested against something like this you always found a positive way to help the situation.

You smiled up at him shyly as you both continue to walk down the road, "wanna' come to my house?" You question.

He shakes his head "your parents' are there I wouldn't want to intrude" He says.

"You wouldn't, you never do... but how about' we go to the lot then?" You question curiously.

Johnny looks up at you "yeah, that'd be nice" He smiles small.

A couple more minutes of walking and you both arrived at the lot, the moon reflecting on the old seat car seat that you and Johnny have cuddled on many times. Johnny removes his arms from the jacket to grab his lighter and lighting a couple of dead leaves placing them on top of the wood, causing the sticks and limbs to ignite a warm fire.

  You rest your hands in Johnny's jacket pockets before feeling a sharp paper like object touch your finger pads, while Johnny was busy rearranging the limbs to keep the fire going you slipped out the golden packet from the pocket that read 'durex: one latex condom'.

  You soon heard the steering of leaves and branches come to a halt causing you to move your gaze to Johnny. His mouth was wide open and his eyes were slightly bulged open as well. There was a loud silence, the only thing that could be heard was the burning of the fire.

  You walked over to Johnny and sat down on the seat next to him, Johnny's gaze followed you as his expression never changed. "So this is what Dal' slipped you eh?" You giggle slightly, something you only found yourself doing with Johnny.

  A bright red blush covers Johnny's features as he looks down embarrassed but slowly nods, confirming it was in fact what Dal had slipped him.

  You lift his head up with your pointer finger, your eyes meeting once against you raise one of your legs and place it on the other side of Johnny now fully straddling his waist.

  Johnny gulps nervously as your body's continue to touch each other's, you gently caress Johnny's arm with the pads of your fingers causing goosebumps to ride down his spine. He continues to watch your every move, studying your features like none before.

  "Johnny I'm ready" You mumble softly, looking into his soft brown orbs.

  "Wait. Are you sure?" He mumbles resting his hands just above your hips.

  "Yes, are you ready?" You question softly.

  "I am" He gives consent, a small blush forming across his cheeks due to this conversation.

  He was terrified, what if's kept running through his mind 'what if you don't like it?' 'What if I'm bad?' 'What if she leaves me?'. He hadn't ever been in this position before and this meant a lot to him, because it was a sign of love for your partner and he didn't want to dis-satisfy and disappoint.

  You place your hands gently on his cheeks and bring him into a loving kiss, fireworks go off, your lips tingle against one another, slowly but surely the kiss started to heat up along with the speed.

  You were now both hungry for each other, you pulled away for air but immediately placed your lips against the sensitive skin around his neck, Johnny lowly whimpers in response as his head tilts back. You were starting to get greedy, your kisses became more desperate as did your grinding on his crotch.

  Though you kept that at bay not wanting to frighten him. Your breathing started picking up as you nipped and kissed his soft spots on his neck. Johnny felt as if he was floating with the immense pleasure and you haven't even started yet.

  You lifted your face from his neck and went back to his lips, closing the gap. You slowed down the kiss, gently you bend your head down a little and take his bottom lip in between your two lips, kissing slowly before moving to his top lip and showing all your attention there. Soon your place your lips on his, he runs his tongue under your bottom lip asking for entrance to which you allow.

  His tongue slipping into your mouth, interwinding and fighting for dominance with yours. You pull away slightly for more air, you get a good look at Johnny's eyes and see that they have darkened and lust clouds his eyes as he looks at you lovingly.

  You grind your hips against his hardening cock causing him to gasp in shock and in pleasure as he grips your hips and follows your rhythm. You close your eyes and let out a light moan from the stimulation. You never would've pictured Johnny like this, his eyes were practically begging you; speaking words he was to embarrassed to speak himself.

"Johnny..." You whisper, going back to your current position of kissing and nipping at his neck, making sure not to add noticeable loves bites.

"Y/n.. Can-can I touch you" He practically begs out.

"Yes..." You breath out, trying to maintain your breathing.

Gently he grips your hips and turns you over so he's hovering over you, his eyes pierce through your soul. You almost spill out all your dirty thoughts you've had about Johnny right then and there.

It felt like hours as Johnny's brown orbs stare into yours, when in reality it had only been a couple seconds. Everything seems to play in slo-motion as Johnny straddles your waist, knees on either side of your waist. Kneeling down so his forearms are resting beside each side of your head laying on the old seat.

Johnny peppers small kisses around your neck and under your jaw, slowly he makes it down the valley of your breast; not going any further than that he starts sucking on the sensitive skin leaving little loves bites in places that wouldn't show to much.

You run your fingers through his greasy hair, not caring that in return your hand was starting to get greasy from the intense amount of hair grease placed in his hair.

  Johnny slips his Jean jacket off your shoulders placing it on the ground next to you, he places gentle kisses all over your exposed shoulders. His hands began to shake from nervousness, this action causes you to lift Johnny's head up with your finger.

  "Johnny... are you sure you're ready?" You caress his cheek lovingly.

  He nods his head "I'm sure, are you?" He makes sure.

  "I am" You confirm, bringing him down to press a loving kiss to his chapped lips.

  He fumbles with the string of your top nervously, trying to untie it; his shaking hands not allowing him to do so. Eventually he manages to untie the bow, following with unbuttoning the rest of the buttons with a nervous struggle.

  He slips the piece of clothing off your shoulder, exposing your black bra that held a little diamond bow in the middle. You blush as Johnny stares at your chest lovingly, "Y-you're beautiful..." He gasps out.

  He doesn't give you to to thank him before placing little kisses above your breasts, gently sucking and creating little love bites causing you to let out a little moan. You tug at the hem of Johnny's black t-shirt, signaling that you wanted it off.

  Johnny stops what he's doing to lift up his shirt off of his body now showing of his tan skin. A couple scars rest on his chest and torso, you gently rub your finger pads over some of the old scars. Lifting up your body you rest on your elbows maintaining eye contact as you press a few kisses to his scars and chest causing Johnny to melt in his position.

  Johnny blushes as you lean back a little to get the whole view of your Johnny Cade, still resting on your elbows you look up at him with excited eyes. You run a finger down his chest to his stomach, stoping at the hem of his pants that held a very noticeable bulge.

  You lift yourself up, wrapping your arms around Johnny neck before bringing you both back down and pulling him into a lust filed kiss. Letting your hands wander you end up being back to the hem of his loose jeans, you let your fingers rest there for a bit as you and Johnny continue to make out.

  Soon you start to fumble with the button, then you start unzipping his jeans. You leave it at that before breaking the kiss for air. Johnny lowers his his butterfly kisses to your stomach, soon being face to face with your skirt.

  Looking you in the eyes he slips his hands in your skirt, rubbing your thighs as he does so. He grabs the edges of your underwear and tugs them down, licking his lips hungrily as he does so.

  Placing them on top of his jean jacket so they don't get dirty he spreads your legs not quite seeing your exposed core yet. "Can I taste you Y/n?" He asks innocently, his breathing picking up as he looks up at you his once light brown eyes now fully black and clouded with lust.

  You nod your head furiously your stomach tightening from excitement, lifting your skirt above your thighs your core now being exposed to Johnny. You were so into it you didn't feel embarrassed about showing him your body at all.

  He places kisses on your thighs, slowly leaning closer to the place you needed him the most. Looking up at you he wraps his lips around your clit, the feeling of his tongue causing you to gasp at the stimulation.

  He continues to swirl his tongue around your clit, flicking faster as your breathing picks up. Johnny gets more confident in his movements as he hears you moan, he speeds things up and slowly starts to add one finger into your now dripping core.

  Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he lets you adjust to one finger before slipping in two. You let out a strained whimper as his tongue continues to work on your clit and his two fingers stretching you out, getting you ready for him.

  Since this was your first time being eaten out and first time period, your climax comes closer than you would've expected. Your eyes roll back as your hips push farther into Johnny's hold, "I'm gonna cum, Johnny!" You whimper out as your high soon rolls over, causing your hips to stutter and Johnny to moan at the satisfying taste.

  He lets you ride out your high before coming back up to you, a panting mess as you try to calm yourself. Johnny's lips glisten in the moonlight as he's covered in your cum. He licks his lips and sucks off his fingers hungrily as his eyes continue to stare into yours.

  "You taste amazin'" He moans out as he presses a kiss to your lips before getting up and sitting on the other side of the seat and tugging off his jeans.

  Sitting up you wrap your legs around his waist, grinding yourself on his clothed bulge. You run your fingers down his stomach until you get to his boxers "can I?" You blush.

  Johnny nods shyly as a blush covers his features, you tug down his boxers revealing his cock that springs out and hits his stomach. You lick your lips as you place the piece of clothing on top of the pile of clothes. You run your finger pad over the tip of his cock smearing the pre cum that rested there.

  Johnny's breathing picks up as his head falls back, his mouth falls open and his eyes screw shut; having being touched for the first time. Getting more confident you grab his length and start to stoke his cock in up and down motions, slowly since he was sensitive.

  Small moans fall out of Johnny's pink lips, your mouth falls open as you look up at Johnny, his moans turning you on even more. "Oh my..." you mumble lowly, as you continue to stoke his length.

  Grabbing the condom that sat beside you, you slow down your motions before stopping causing Johnny to look back up at you. You gently open the packet to the condom, sliding out the lubricated latex. Flipping it to the right side you place the condom on the tip of Johnny's cock before sliding it down correctly.

  Johnny watches in amazement as you adjust the condom on his length, you press a loving kiss to his jaw before gazing into his brown orbs "are you ready?" You question, caressing his redden cheek.

Johnny nods furiously as he places his hands above your hips, shakily. Lining up his cock with your entrance, you start to slide down his cock. Your tight walls closing on around Johnny's length, it didn't really hurt as he slipped in your walls but more so stung a bit. It was a very tight fit as you continue to slide down further on his harden cock.

Johnny's eyes slam shut at the tight fit around his length, his breathing picked up as his cheeks reddened along with the tip of his nose. His stomach heaved up and down from your walls closing in on him, his hips stuttered from him being so sensitive but he maintained them as best as he could until you were ready to speed up.

  Soon your walls started to get used to Johnny's cock allowing you to speed up your actions, your head rolls back as your chest arches from the stimulation. Just now realizing you weren't completely naked since your bra was still connected to your body, you continue riding Johnny at a medium speed whilst reaching your hands behind your bra strap and unclipping it.

  Throwing your bra to the other side finally freeing your breasts, Johnny's eyes widen at the skin burning sight. He looks up with his doe brown eyes, asking to touch you. You nod as you continue to ride Johnny, your boobs bouncing as you do so. Johnny's eyes fall back on your perky breasts before letting his hand trail up from your waist and stomach to your boobs, lightly twisting your harden nipple causing you to moan and roll your hips.

  "Oh Y/n~" He all but whimpers as his hands continue to rest on your chest, Johnny throws his head back, mouth gape open, eyes shut as you feel his cock reach your sweet spot.  

  "Oh my, Johnny" You moan out, skin slapping together as you ignore the burning sensation in your thighs.

  Johnny lifts up and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your heated body closer to his as your motions speed up. Your hands fall to his neck, playing with the little hairs that rested there. His head rests on your chest, his breathing constantly heaving as he feels the burning sensation in his abdomen.

  He lets out a muffled whimper against your skin as his cock continues to reach a point past your sweet spot and your walls clench around him greedily. You swirl your hips around his causing Johnny to gasp, "do t-that again' p-please" he begs out, squeezing his eyes closed.

  You continue to swirl your hips around his length feeling that same burning sensation in your abdomen. You speed up your actions, ready to reach that point. Johnny places his lips against yours for support as he feels his body shaking from anticipation and also chasing his high.

  His hips stutter upwards causing his cock to be buried deeper inside your walls. You moan out into the silent night as your motions only increase, "y/n... I'm gonna' cum" Johnny warns as his breath catches in his throat, you nod your head in agreement.

  With one final thrust Johnny cum's in the condom, you're able to feel the warm cum inside you from the thin latex that was preventing him from spilling inside you, that set off your orgasm as you start to cum around his cock. Your hips stutter along with Johnny's creating more friction against your sensitive core.

  Once both your highs decrease you slow your movements, not quite quitting as you press a loving kiss to Johnny's lips. He accepts the kiss, only becoming more needy as you run your hands through his hair.

  You pull away gently before gazing into Johnny's loving orbs, "that was amazin' Y/n..." he gasps out as you agree, slowing sliding off his cock slowly causing you both to whimper as Johnny's hips stutter in the air.

   Before Johnny could slip the condom off you take action and began slowly slipping it off for him and tying it before discarding of the latex in the trash can beside the seat.

  You slip on your tank top, not bothering to put your uncomfortable bra on as you hand Johnny his boxer and jeans. Johnny slips on his clothes the same time you do.

  Johnny looks at you lovingly as you finish up the buttons on your tank top, half your chest still exposed until you finish buttoning the last button.

  You glance at Johnny to see him staring at you, "what?" You smile bashfully.

  "You're just'... beautiful" He admires you as you crawl over to him and cuddle into his side, taking his Jean jacket and covering you both up with it.

  "That was really breath takin' Johnny" You giggle slightly as you shyly look into his puppy eyes.

  Johnny smiles as a blush covers his features "i love you Y/n" Johnny admits as he cuddles into your side.

"I love you Johnny" You smile as you both stare at the burning fire, soon your breathing lured Johnny into a restful and deep sleep, you soon following behind moments latter.

_______________________________________________

Requested from Wattpad!!!

#wattpad #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk #tiktok #x reader #masterlist #johnny cade x reader #johnnycade #the outsiders #outsiders #johnnycade smut #johnnycadexreadersmut #robby keene

[missjaystone]

“Don’t Wake Up”

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader | Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Work keeps you busy. That's why as long as Steve's gentle and doesn't wake you up, he's free to do what he wants while you sleep, but what he wants is his best friend to feel what he feels. Word Count: 1,800

Trigger Warning(s): Somnophilia, NonCon/DubCon, Drugging Please DO NOT ignore trigger warnings and read at your own discretion.

Life was unpredictable, anybody who knew exactly how their life would go was either omnipotent or the most boring being alive. Early on you learned to roll with life's punches and that's how you were where you were right now. A top SHIELD agent trusted with a great deal of knowledge and an almost insane amount of clearance, working closing with the Avengers. You rose thru SHIELD's ranks fairly quickly, especially for someone of your age. You were mid-level when they unfroze Captain America. You were one of the people entrusted with the task of helping Steve warm up to this new 21st-century society, pun not intended.

Once the initial shock of being thrust into this world had worn off, you and Steve developed a comfortable and vital friendship. You two spoke multiple times a day and saw each other frequently. The two of you were together so often, people used to joke that if one of you was around, the other wasn't far behind and they usually weren't wrong. It was no secret nobody was surprised when Tony loudly made a scene when he saw you two sharing a New Year's kiss. Tony shouting "I knew they'd end up together! I fucking knew it!" to everyone on the Avengers team and a handful of SHIELD agents wasn't how you two intended on exposing your relationship, but life is unpredictable.

Things around you gradually became more complex but that wasn't a surprise, you just kept rolling with the punches. The battle of New York happened, Ultron happened, Hydra's infiltration of SHIELD happened, the team grew, the entire situation with the Sokovia Accords happened, the complexities already on your plates multiplied. Of course, you stuck with Steve thru everything, you never stopped having faith in him. There were a handful of times where you could've turned and stopped fighting but how could you abandon your Captain? You loved him. Over the years all the fights, all the curveballs, everything wore on you both and the two of you had to change with the times and adapt to your surroundings. You were both changing before each other. There were times where you didn't see each other for weeks at a time; Steve would get busy with his missions around the globe and you had a mountain of SHIELD files to deal with; drives that had to be decrypted and stored properly, reports that had to go to a dozen different people, agents to recruit and review, clips to scour with minute details.

Things got a little bumpy when Bucky came to stay at the tower; Steve trying to help his oldest friend get accustomed to everything and you helping any way you could. You couldn't bear the thought of telling Steve when you started to feel uncomfortable around the brunette. The lingering stares, the prolonged hugs, the borderline-peculiar conversations; you brushed it all off. This was a man who spent 70 years as a mind-controlled assassin, he had everything ripped from him and now he had to readjust to modern society. He had to learn how to form relationships again, he had to relearn everything so there were bound to be moments of discomfort as he navigated his way. In all of that, however, you missed the small frowns and brooding moments he had whenever you and Steve were being overly affectionate together. He'd never do anything about it though, you were Steve's. He'd had his fair share of ladies back in their time but you were Steve's girl, you made Steve happy and Bucky couldn't-wouldn't take that from him.

When your workload multiplied again, you weren't as available as you used to be and it wore on Steve a bit. He and his super-soldier stamina had gotten used to a certain level of intimacy that wasn't happening anymore. It came to a head one night when Steve was in the mood but you were too tired to even pretend. Your words were mumbled as you snuggled against your pillow but Steve heard them loud and clear "do whatever you need to get off, baby, just don't wake me up." He asked if you were sure and got a hum in response but that didn't entirely suffice. He gave your shoulders a small shake until you turned to look at him. You looked tired and were so close to kicking him out of bed "Stevie, do whatever you want just please let me sleep."

You two still had sex other times, they were more intimate and personal though. In a mildly humorous way, that seemed to boost your relationship some. You'd wake up the morning feeling surprisingly peaceful for a few minutes before your work to-do list came to mind and Steve found out he enjoyed the idea of doing something he wasn't supposed to. He'd made it into his own little game; how much could he do without waking you up?

Tonight, you had your nose buried in your computer screen and papers were strewn across the bed; you were already exhausted but you still had a number of things to finish. You were pulled out of your hype focused state when the bed dipped beside you. The blue-eyed man offered you a cup of water with a sweet smile "come on, I haven't seen you drink anything in over an hour." You thanked him with a quick peck before taking a long and much-needed drink, thanking him when you set the nearly-empty cup back down.

Time felt like it began to drag on slowly, heavy tiredness slowly enveloping you throughout the next hour. You didn't even realize you'd dozed off until Steve was gently laying you down, pulling the blankets over you. "Steve, I still have work to do," you forced yourself to mumble, everything just felt heavy. "You can't even keep your eyes open, finish it in the morning," he said softly. He hushed you when you tried to object "Captain's orders, doll." You couldn't argue with that. Literally, there wasn't an ounce of strength or a grain of energy to fuel a disagreement. You were out like a light in a manner of seconds.

The blond stayed snuggled up beside you, stroking your hair soothingly to lull you into a deep sleep. No more than ten minutes had passed before the door opened and closed without a sound. An unsure Bucky stood by the dresser with his hands in his pockets and spoke quietly "are you sure about this Steve?" He nodded "I'm positive, Buck. I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't sure about it. I see the way you look at her, you deserve happiness too y'know." Bucky started to question him but Steve stopped him "she'll love you as much as she does me, Buck, it'll take some time and subliminal messages but she will."

Bucky looked at your sleeping form in thought, you were a nice person; you were smart, helpful, genuine, charming, you made him feel normal. He'd never be normal but if having you made him feel that way, who was he to pass up the opportunity? He quickly shed his pajamas while Steve moved your bottoms down. They'd been planning this for what felt like ages and they knew there'd be no going back, but it gave them a chance at a future they got to actually choose.

A thick silence filled the room as Bucky moved slowly to hover above you, lining himself up at your entrance with a slightly-shaking hand. With one last confirmation look from Steve, he slowly eased himself into you. He bit his lip roughly to keep from groaning and wake you up. The crushed-up Valium in your water should've kept you from waking up at anything but he wasn't taking a chance and getting too caught up in the moment. He finally broke the silence with a mumbled groan after finally bottoming out. Bucky's eyes fell closed and he stilled to savor the feeling, almost cumming right then.

Very slowly, he started to pull his hips back before pushing back in just as slowly. He continued like this for what he thought was ages and when the only response from you was a mumble here or a moan there, he slowly picked up his pace. Steve was in heaven watching the scene unfold in front of him. There was a slight pang in his chest for betraying your trust and not only letting but encouraging his friend to use you but he had a plan, a plan he was confident in. He started off palming his throbbing erection over his sweatpants before eventually pulling them down and fisting his member. There were a few moments where both stilled in fear when you stirred before settling. Bucky finished first, his hips jerking briefly before they stilled, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as he moved some hair out of your face. Steve finished when he watched him slowly pull out and came with a muttered 'fuck'. Steve quickly grabbed a few tissues, handing some to Bucky to clean you up while he took care of himself. Once the evidence was removed, the men shared a tight hug. Bucky actually looked a little more like himself now, he looked the slightest bit happier and more at peace.

In your unconscious and drugged state, all that you really felt was a sort of tugging pressure but you couldn't open your eyes. You heard voices conversing quietly after the pressure was completely gone and you felt the bed move as somebody got up. Despite your best efforts to listen, you couldn't make out the words. It took all of your strength to open your eyes even slightly but you could've sworn you saw a brunette figure leaving the room. There was no time to process it before your eyes fell shut again and you were entirely asleep.

You still felt a bit groggy when you woke up in the morning but nothing seemed out of place. Steve was quick to appear with a couple of mugs of coffee, handing you yours before he took a seat. He planted a sweet kiss on your temple. When you didn't say anything after taking your mug, Steve looked you over "are you feeling okay, doll? Are you coming down with something?" He asked, some concern in his eyes as he placed the back of his hand to your forehead for a temperature check. You finally took his hand and kissed his palm, sending him a smile "I'm fine, baby, just a little groggy is all. Crazy dream is all." Steve smiled sweetly at you “wanna talk about it?" An image of Bucky on top of you flashed across your mind and you shook your head “I don’t even remember what it was about.” You kissed his cheek softly and smiled. After all, it was only a dream.

#Dark!Stucky #Dark!Steve Rogers #Dark!Bucky Barnes #Stucky x Reader #Steve Rogers x Reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Marvel Smut #Bucky Barnes Smut #Steve Rogers Smut #TW: NonCon/DubCon #TW: Somnophilia #TW: Drugging

[elivanah-writes]

Gift of the gods ~2~

pairing: Paul Lahote x female!pagan!reader

Sum: y/n struggles with her feelings 

warnings: fluff, a bit angst

Yes there will be a part 3

masterlist   part 1

Ever since the day Kim and y/n had breakfast at Emily’s and had met Paul things had changed. She couldn’t really describe how but she felt it. Emily and the guys had been so welcoming to her and just accepted her into their group. It was nice, she had a harder time than others to trust people and she really felt like she could trust these people. She felt at ease like she belonged here. But she knew it wasn’t really the group that made her feel like that. It was mostly Paul. At the end of that day, Paul and she had exchanged phone numbers after they had sat on the beach talking while the rest of the guys played soccer. Even from those few hours of talking she could feel the connection between them like it just clicked between them. At first, she thought it was weird how quickly she felt at ease with him but then again not much surprised her anymore. And she had asked the gods for balance, who wasn’t to say that just like Kim had said the gods could have granted her wish in the form of a person?

The following few weeks she and Kim spend almost every day with Emily and the guys when they weren’t working. By the end of the first week, she really saw them all as friends. It was easy to say that she even had started to develop feelings for Paul, she didn’t know yet how strong those feelings were, but she had them. She knew he was interested in her too, he had even asked her on a date not long after that day on the beach. But she had to let him down, she really wanted to say yes but dating him would make leaving so much harder. And she knew a long-distance relationship was not something that would work for her. He understood, said that he’d be anything for her that she wanted, a brother or a best friend, he even kept the option of a lover open for her if she ever decided to give a relationship with him a shot. That only made her feelings for him grow. The way he talked to her, made her laugh or smile when she felt down. It was like he just knew what she needed, and he just gave it to her. 

La Push had always been her home, it seems that being back here only made that even more clear to her. Where she lived now she never had felt like she was home, even the people she had around her, her adoptive family never felt like real family to her, she only had a good relationship with her mother, she’d do everything for her. Being back where she was truly happy made her rethink everything.

It was her last week in La Push and she didn’t know how to feel, she felt torn. She wanted nothing more than to stay here and give in to whatever she was feeling for Paul. But sadly, things weren’t that easy. She had a job to go back to, her adoptive family. She couldn’t leave just like that. 

That’s how she found herself back at the beach at sunset, she had spent most of the day hanging out with Kim and Jared but she had felt like she was third-wheeling most of the time. She had muttered some lame excuse and walked the short distance to the beach where she found her usual spot and sat down. This time she wasn’t going to start a ritual, she was just going to pray to the gods. She tried to calm her racing heart as much as she could, took a few deep breaths, and cleared her mind before softly speaking.

“Make me strong in spirit, courageous in action, gentle of heart, let me act in wisdom, conquer my fear and doubts, discover my own hidden gifts, meet others with compassion, be a source of healing energy, and face each day with hope and joy” she repeated the mantra a few times until she felt completely calm and had a clear mind. She knew she could make decisions better with a clear mind. It had felt like only a few minutes had passed since she had arrived at the beach but when she looked up, she saw that the sun had gone down completely and made place for the dark night. She must have zoned out for quite some time because she could hear voices calling out for her. As fast as she could she got to her feet and slipped from behind the bushes and surely, she could see Paul and Jared walking straight at her spot calling out her name. It was like they knew she would be here.

“I’m here! Sorry, I lost track of time.” She spoke as she walked in their direction. “How did you even know that I was here?” 

“Kim told us you like to come to the beach to think so we figured that we would find you here,” Paul said as he scratched the back of his neck like he wasn’t completely sure of what he was saying. Kim never knew about her usual spot on the beach so she knew Kim couldn’t have told them, but she didn’t call him out on it. “Well, I’m taking Kim to dinner, so I need to get going if we want to be on time. See you guys later.” Jared said before taking off leaving her and Paul alone on the beach.

“Walk with me?” 

“Sure” she smiled as he held her hand and started to walk together along the shore. 

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said after a long comfortable silence “I don’t really know how to start. It’ll actually sound crazy, but I need you to trust me.”

“Of course, you can tell me anything, Paul. Whatever it is, I’ll promise that I won’t judge you.” She reassured him and softly squeezed his hand letting him know he could go on.

“I don’t know if Kim ever told you about our tribe’s legends?”

 “Her parents did, I think, back when we were little. I thought those stories were amazing, how some of your tribe members are supposed to transform into these giant wolves to protect the rez, right? At least that’s what I remember, it’s been a long time since I last heard them.” She smiled as she thought back to the times that Kim’s mother tucked them into bed and told them all these stories.

“Yeah, that’s the essence of the legend. But what if I said that those aren’t just stories, what if…?” 

“It was you, wasn’t it?” she quickly says when he didn’t finish his sentence. she knew that the wolf she had seen on her first night here in La Push had seemed familiar when she thinks back to it, the wolf’s eyes had looked so much like Paul’s. And in a way she felt like she had always known, he had been the wolf that had been watching her as she did her ritual. 

“What?” Paul asked a bit confused and stopped walking to turn towards her; this wasn’t how he thought she would react. Yes, he had expected her to take it better than how most people would but this he didn’t understand.

“The day I arrived, I came to the beach and I saw two wolves. You were one of them, weren’t you?”

Paul could only stare at her in amazement. She knew, she just knew and didn’t freak out about it.

“How did you know?” He asked softly

“When we met at Emily’s I already had the feeling that we’ve met before, your eyes just seemed so familiar, and then one day when we were talking you just looked me straight in the eye and I just knew where I had seen your eyes before. It was those wolf’s eyes, it was you,” she explains with a soft smile.

“So you’re not afraid of me?”

“No, of course not. Call it strange, but I knew you’d never hurt me from the first second that I saw you. I felt a connection like it was meant to be.” 

“I’d die before I’d ever hurt you. I promise you I’ll never hurt you,” he said as he cupped her cheek with his free hand looking at her like she had hung the moon and stars in his sky. Little did she know that was exactly how he felt. The moment was so intimate that neither noticed that they started to lean into each other until their noses touched. Before Y/n really knew it soft warm lips brushed over hers and for a minute she forgot all about why she felt like a relationship with him wouldn’t work. At that moment it was only him and her and nothing else mattered but them. If she had to describe it she’d say that a bomb of butterfly’s exploded inside her belly. If she wasn’t sure about her feelings for Paul, she was now, she was in love with him. Her mind was clear, no worries, no questions, just warmth and him. She let herself be selfish for once. Pressing her lips fully against his deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace of their lips. She doesn’t know how long they stood there with one of his hands on her cheek while his other hand was still holding hers as their lips and tongues danced with each other. 

The days following that kiss felt like she went through hell, it’s not like she regretted the kiss but it had complicated things. Leaving La Push, leaving Paul was going to be one of the hardest things she needed to do. That day after he dropped her off at Kim’s place she had cried herself to sleep, mourning a life she wished she could have with Paul here in La Push. For once in her life, she disliked the fact that she had a family and a job waiting for her to come back to. The following days she stayed inside her room, silenced her phone, and kept herself busy with packing her bags. Both Paul and Kim tried to talk to her, tried to figure out what was wrong but they were met with silence. That was until Kim had enough of her sulking and just used the spare key to open her bedroom door. Kim’s heart broke a little when she saw her best friend sitting in a corner of the room with teary eyes. She just sat down next to her, pulled y/n into her embrace, and cried with her like she already knew what she was going through. 

“ Whatever you decide to do, this will always your home too y/n,” Kim said later that night when they lay on her bed before the two of them fell asleep. 

Friday had never come this quick before, all her bags were packed and loaded into Kim’s father’s truck ready to drive her to the airport. Kim’s family had wanted to throw her a goodbye party but y/n shut that down as soon as they had vocalized the idea. Instead, she just wanted to spend her last hours in La Push with them as a family. Now she sat on the edge of her bed, taking in the room for the last time when suddenly there was a knock on her already open door. She expected it would be Kim or her father, but instead, she saw Paul standing there leaning against the doorpost. When their eyes met he gave her a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes completely. He looked like he hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours in the last few days and she knew that it was probably because of her but still he smiled at her. 

“So you were leaving without saying goodbye?” He said. It was more a statement than a question.

“I’m sorry, I just thought it would be easier like that.” She softly says as she turns her eyes back to her hands.

“Why would that be easier? Please talk to me, don’t shut me out.” Paul asks as he makes his way into her room and sits down next to her. “Because it just makes leaving harder, I can’t say goodbye to you.”

“Then don’t, don’t leave. Stay here with me.” he pleads, takes one of her hands in his, and gives it a soft squeeze so she would look up at him.

When their eyes meet again he can clearly see the tears in them ready to fall. 

“ As much as I’d want to stay I can’t. Please don’t make this harder Paul,” 

As soon as she started talking the tears fell, her heart already starting to break.

“If you want to stay, then stay. We can work something out, we can work. What, what about that kiss? You can’t deny that it felt right, amazing even.” he spoke like he was getting desperate.

“Yes that kiss was amazing and felt right but it complicated everything. I really like you, a lot, but I have a life back home, people who expect me to come home.” 

“I know, I’m not asking you to give them up. I’m asking you to give me a chance, to give us a chance.” He says turning his body fully in her direction.

“Look I know this isn’t the way I wanted to tell you but there is another part of the legend that I haven’t told you yet. Every wolf has this ability to imprint. It’s when we find that one person and you look at her for the first time and suddenly it’s not gravity that holds you, it’s her. She gives the wolf balance, peace. The wolf’s whatever the imprint wants him to be, a brother, protector, a friend, or a lover. they’re soulmates.” He explains as he looks at her hopefully.

“I’m your imprint.”

It was something she already knew deep inside herself, it might not be in the same words but she knew, she felt it. He brought her balance and she had never felt more at peace and loved. That’s why it was that much harder. Soulmate or not, long-distance would never work, but then again staying wasn’t an option. She had too many people depending on her back home, she couldn’t leave them fending for themselves. She couldn’t be selfish even if she wanted to be.

“Yes, you’re my imprint.” He smiled weakly as she just cried a bit harder than she already was and without thinking he pulled her against his chest. He knew he couldn’t force her to stay so his heart broke together with hers. He understood why she was leaving and couldn’t stay. But you couldn’t fault a man for trying, he wanted what’s best for and if that was not here with him then he had to let her go.

“Can we at least stay friends, stay in touch?” he asked her while a tear of his own fell.

tags:

@its-la-push   @ghostmistwalker @bisexualcrazybeans @fatiguing-thoughts @pawfect-melody

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #alex meraz #twilight #paul lahote x y/n #paul x reader #paul lahote fanfiction #pagan reader #wolfpack #embry call #jacob black #Jared Cameron #sam uley #Quil Ateara #Kim

[tennessoui]

40 or 43 if you’re still taking prompts! i love ur AUs they’re so beautiful and contain so much brilliance within a short snippet!

it's been so long, anon, you probably forgot you sent this but here is prompt 40, exes meeting after not seeing each other for a long time. in true tennessoui fashion, they don't. actually. meet and/or see each other in this snippet. also in true tennessoui fashion, all tennessoui needs to decide to continue this is one (1) validation.

the backstory here is something i have been thinking about for days after a discord convo, where during the fight on mustafar, obi-wan hits anakin hard enough in the head that he loses all of his memories. obi-wan takes him with him for a few months but the wounds of Order 66 and vaderkin's role in what happened is too fresh for obi-wan to (understandably) get over, even if this anakin doesn't remember doing it, so they separate. this is set 8 years after Mustafar.

(1.7k)

“Kenobi won’t come,” the fighter pilot says immediately upon disembarking from his craft.

One commander lets out a groan. Someone else hits the durasteel side of the closest x-wing with a closed fist.

“Do we really need him?” Anakin demands, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s been eight years since the rise of the Empire. Surely a washed-up Jedi General from the Clone Wars won’t have people jumping to join the Rebellion!”

No one meets his eye. In fact, the air room suddenly feels very, very uncomfortable.

Organa exhales heavily and turns to look at Anakin, which is rare because the man never voluntarily looks at Anakin. “There are few names from that time that still carry an untainted weight in the eyes of the galaxy. Obi-Wan Kenobi is one of them.”

“I grew up hearing about The Team!” A teenager says eagerly. “I’d join any resistance movement if I knew both of ‘em were fighting with me!”

“You’re already a part of a resistance movement,” a girl next to him pointed out waspishly.

The boy waves her off. “Skywalker and Kenobi, saving the galaxy! It’d be wizard to be a part of that, and you know it, Aasha!”

Anakin’s throat tightens at that name. Skywalker. His name. Or, his old name. He has no more connection to it now than he does to the name Kenobi or Organa. They’re just letters.

He catches Organa’s eye. The man is looking at him with a mix of curiosity and wariness. Anakin knows instinctively that this is another one of the man’s tests. Will this time be the time that whatever injury has kept his memories suppressed for eight years is undone, and his previous life comes thundering through his mind?

He’s sick of these tests. He’s never failed one, but Organa never comes closer to trusting him afterward. He can only assume that whatever Anakin Skywalker had done in his last few days alive had been so terrible that only a few people knew the truth, and those who did would never forgive any version of him for it.

Organa certainly knew, though he had never shared that information with Anakin. And.

And Kenobi did as well. That was clear. They’d only been together for five standard months, sharing a small spacecraft made smaller by the fear, agony, grief, fury, and hurt radiating off of his companion into the space around them.

It had been hard to tell at the time if one of the things Obi-Wan Kenobi had been grieving was the loss of Anakin Skywalker. Anakin isn’t sure Kenobi would have been able to answer that either.

Some part of him that usually rests dormant in the back of his mind stirs and hisses that it had to have been. That Skywalker’s loss had torn Kenobi’s soul to shreds.

This doesn’t necessarily feel like his own thought, but it’s quite hard to ignore. He wants to rub a hand against his aching head, but that surely would tip off Organa that something’s--what? That he’s having thoughts?

Perish the very idea.

One would think Anakin hadn’t joined the Rebellion of his own free will. That Anakin hadn’t spent three standard months on the planet Kenobi had left him on before catching wind of the existence of the Rebel Alliance, that he hadn’t risked life and limb (more limb, apparently, given his missing flesh hand) to find them afterwards. He hadn’t known much anything about himself, but he had known that he hadn’t liked what the Imperial troops were doing, how much destruction they were causing, how the people they were supposed to be protecting hid in fear of their white armor.

Something in Anakin had rebelled at that, had thought it wrong and twisted. Someone needs to stop them, he’d thought. So he had found the people that were trying to.

And yes, a small part of him had thought--perhaps hoped--that Obi-Wan Kenobi would be a part of the Rebel Alliance by the time Anakin made his way to their biggest base. He had thought--perhaps hoped--that he would be able to prove himself to the other man. Look, he had wanted to scream at Kenobi, I’m not like that other Anakin, I would never do what he did. You can trust me. You can look me in the eye, I won’t stab you in the back.

Because something in him had yearned, still yearns, for Kenobi’s approval. For the weight of his gaze settling warmly around his shoulders. For his small smiles, his calloused hand clasping the back of Anakin’s head to bring their foreheads together in a gentle tap hello.

These are things Anakin knows he’s never experienced. But he must have in his past life, because his whole body will ache for them like a phantom limb. It’s been seven years and a few months since he last saw Kenobi.

“I’ll go,” Anakin says, which is what he said the last time they were standing like this, huddled around a fighter pilot delivering the same message of failure.

Organa’s mouth tightens in displeasure, and Mothma places a hand on his arm in warning.

Everyone else falls silent around them, as if recognizing the fact that they’re in the middle of a brewing storm, and they’re lucky to be in its eye right now.

“I do not think--” Organa starts, but Anakin cuts him off, crossing his arms even tighter over his chest, as if to hold himself back. The force suppression collar around his neck grows warmer, but it holds. It always holds.

“You’re already sending men who look like me to him!” Anakin points out irately. “The last four men could have been related to me!” It’s something Anakin’s thought about in the past but never said out loud. He’s glad to say it now though, especially because Organa flushes a bit which means Anakin’s right. “Just send me! If it doesn’t work, nothing in the galaxy will!”

Now, Anakin isn’t sure that’s true at all. He’s taking a huge leap with this, but it’s been seven years and a few months since he saw Obi-Wan Kenobi in person, and every part of him is aching with the desire to lay eyes on the man again. Will he hate him still? Will he see all the differences Anakin’s made to his appearance? Will he like them? He fights the urge to run a hand over his shorn hair.

Will Obi-Wan even let him through the door?

The people around them are murmuring now. They don’t know what Organa knows, what Anakin has guessed at: that Skywalker died a traitor to the Republic, that he had tried to strike down Obi-Wan like the Emperor struck down the rest of the Jedi. To them, these fortunate outsiders, they’re wondering why Anakin Skywalker hasn’t already been sent to locate and bring back their errant General.

Before, Anakin’s offer had been quiet, easily ignored over someone else’s. Now he’s loud and confident. Impossible to turn away without making a public scene, without explaining why. And Organa has tried very hard not to do that. For whatever reason, Anakin doesn’t know. All he knows is that after he’d been examined by a battalion of med droids and interrogated by all three leaders of the Rebellion, Organa had given him a list of rules he had to follow in order to join the Rebel Alliance. Firstly, never remove his cuffs and collar.

It’s not a slave collar and it won’t electrocute you if you touch it or try to take it off, Organa had told him when he’d blanched away at the sight. But I have been informed by a trusted ally that the Chance--the Emperor knows your Force Signature intimately. We cannot risk being found. It would kill all hope for us.

Secondly, never confirm his identity. Never talk about who he used to be.

People will know, Organa had grudgingly admitted. Skywalker was one of the faces of the Clone Wars. But you cannot confirm it. In fact.

Thirdly, give up the name Skywalker. Pick another last name, if not first as well.

But Anakin had been attached to his first name for some reason he didn’t know how to begin to question, so even after he toyed with the idea of changing it completely, he couldn’t go through with it. Weeks later he had shown up in Organa’s makeshift office.

I had a mother, didn’t I? He had asked, causing Organa to stiffen immediately.

Do you remember? Organa had interrogated immediately, his standard greeting for Anakin. Anakin had gotten the feeling, especially in those early days, that Organa was waiting with baited breath for Anakin to remember so he could try him for war crimes or treason or whatever it was that Skywalker had done.

No, he had responded honestly. Just a feeling. If I am to take a new last name, I want her name.

A few days later, Anakin had stumbled into his bunk, tired from a day of hard training, to see a packet of documents on his pillow.

Anakin Shmison was written at the top of the first page.

The list of rules goes on and on.

But nowhere does it say that Anakin Shmison isn’t allowed to mention Obi-Wan Kenobi in public. He just never has, because even the sound of the man’s name makes him feel very nauseous, a combination of butterflies and adder snakes wrestling around inside his stomach.

Bail Organa is looking like he’s regretting that oversight right now, but Anakin has backed him quite solidly into a proverbial corner. Either finally tell everyone what happened between Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi in the last few hours of the Republic, or give Anakin Shmison leave to retrieve Kenobi.

“Fine,” Organa gets out, jaw locked and vein throbbing in his temple. Anakin has the distinct feeling he’se spent a lot of his life on the receiving end of that expression. “Have this X-Wing refueled, and leave tonight.”

“No sir,” Anakin says, enjoying the way one of the man’s eyebrows shoot up in angry incredulity.

“No?” Organa asks. “Would you like more beauty rest, perhaps, Shmison?”

“No sir, I don’t need it,” this time he doesn’t resist running a hand through his hair, messing with its part so his longer bangs fall to one side and balance out the mysterious scar that bisects his eyebrow. He grins. “But I will need a craft that sits two. For the return trip.”

#asks #i had a scene planned out where x y z happens and obi-wan lets anakin into his hut/home #and anakin is just like look im a part of the rebellion now!! #and obi-wan 'i use my sarcasm to hide my infinite sadness' is like #'yes im sure the rebellion wouldnt exist without you' #because you know. technically it wouldn't. #but anakin doesnt really get that context so hes like 'stop speaking in tongues old man!!!' #and obi-wan says 'please do not call me that' in the wateriest most loosely strung together voice anakins ever heard #anyways whats happening with me that all im writing is angst #i love happy things and happy endings #obikin #(because they'd get together come on anakin probably has an undercut now and hes thirty obi-wans only a man) #(the bitter resentment is strong but the flesh is WEAK BITCH) #kit to kit: u dont need another wip u really cannot have another wip ur not strong enough for another wip u-- #prompt fill

[jostepherjoestar]

🥂Drunk confessions to the bucci gang🥂

sfw // gn reader // scenarios

A new ally and business partner owns acres upon acres of vineyards, treating you and your colleagues to a nice couple crates of their finest wares. Don Giorno decided to have an intimate wine party with all of his members. The wine didn’t only encourage you to be looser, it gave you the courage to confess your feelings to the colleague you’ve had a terrible crush on. 

cw: alcohol use, drunk people being stupid. Drink responsibly!!

Bruno

You’ve never perceived yourself to be the most caring or doting of your group of coworkers, now friends. But seeing your poor capo lean against the large entrance to the living room, clinging onto the wood for stability, you feel the intense need to help him out. In your own inebriated state you manage to make it across the room in one piece without bumping into tables or your teammates. When you reach Bruno you see beads of cold sweat cover his forehead dampening his bangs. The poor man is clinging onto himself and the entrance for dear life, his typically lovely olive toned skin now a paler shade. Piecing together all the warning signs you offer him your shoulder as you grab onto his waist and help him walk to the balcony. Some fresh air would do both of you some good. Even in this state your heart swells with joy to be so close to the man you’ve grown so fond of over the period you’ve become part of his and Don Giovanna’s team. You’ve endlessly fantasised about laying in his arms on another sleepless night, letting him pet your hair and cheeks, his blue eyes kindly telling you it’s all going to be alright with just a single look. You set Bruno down on the iron garden chair that decorated the balcony, he lets out a sigh of relief. Breathing in and out deeply as his shaky hands get a little calmer “Should not have indulged so much eh?” he chuckled at your state, knowing he was in a worse one. “Mh. Good thing I came to save you,” you teased. “it looked like you were about to spit all of that lovely wine back up in there.” A sympathetic smile being shot at him as you lean on the balustrade next to him. The cool night breeze offered a sobering effect. But you still felt like the world was turning and you were just there to hang onto it. “Heh, thanks for that. I have a feeling we’ll all come to regret this in the morning. If we remember tonight, at least. ”. He jokes as he stood back up to lean next to you, his closeness awakening a nervous fluttering in your stomach. Bruno isn’t known to invade your personal space unless you want him to, he’s rather princely in that manner. You felt the courage of the wine and perhaps the cool wind straighten your back. “If you won’t remember this I could just say anything huh?” you sighed, Bruno had closed his eyes in the meantime seeming to enjoy the breeze. “For instance that I like you... like a lot. Maybe too much.” you bit your lip as you hoped he understood what you meant. Soft hums came from your companion, a short silence followed. “I’ve noticed.” he paused, carefully choosing his next words. “I like you too. Maybe even more, we ought to discuss that later. Compare notes and such.” he chuckled while finishing, his cheeks turned a warm red, yours followed suit as you scooted over to wrap your hand around his on the balustrade, enjoying each others company. “I’ll do my very best to remember this moment my dearest.” he said as he squeezed your hand. “Good, because there’s no way I’m doing this again.”  

Mista

It was late into the evening, Bruno having retired after taking a quick breather, Giorno already softly snoring on the couch next to a grumpy sleeping Abbacchio that was leaning against the blond one’s soft hair. Just don’t let him know he did that in the morning. Narancia had been taking care of the music for tonight’s festivities, playing a mixture of his own favourite songs and the ones from the team. He was softly humming along to the slow tunes that played, it was one of those slower 2pac songs he enjoyed. Just enough rhythm to move to, but so much soul to keep you going. Slowly and not even following the beat you swayed together, arms crossed behind Mista’s neck, head buried in the crook of his collar as you felt yourself drift away on the dance floor. It was quite a sight, standing where the coffee table usually resided, stuck to each other like glue, barely awake and still savouring the effects of the wine. Mista’s arms clung around your back, locking you in his embrace. When he asked you to dance it started out quite energised, bopping along to the faster beats, shaking your hips and letting Mista twirl you like a ballerina on stage. But now it seemed like sleeping beauty’s spell had struck the house, causing a peaceful drowsiness. You weren’t complaining at all, being so close to the one you had started to gain feelings for. He held you so close you felt all your troubles disappear, maybe you did have a chance. Body heat starting to rise with each sway but you didn’t want this moment to end, having to let go and feel the coldness take over, no more Mista to cling to for warmth. As the thought of leaving entered, soft and sinuous moans came from your companion, like he was stirring in his sleep. The mewls only making all the hairs on your body stand up and your heartbeat quicken. To make matters worse, or better, soft little kisses were getting placed on your neck, skin tingling under the touches. For a moment you weren’t sure if this was a dream or reality. “M-mista, are you sleeping...?” you whispered close to his ear, so imminent your lips almost returned the pecks. You felt him shudder against your breath, maybe he woke up now? Meanwhile the both of you had stopped swaying, the music was still playing but it felt like it was just you and Mista, alone on a deserted island of bliss. “Mhhh” was the only reply you got, not affirmative, not disagreeing. His sluggish kisses still continued on your neck, warm and close to you, an onlooker probably wouldn’t notice his ministrations. “Mista, I like you too much to stop you. So please continue if it means you want this too.” Your voice so low only he could hear, mind foggy and hazy but heart racing in response to your confession. “I won’t stop then.” he hummed against you, continuing his idle caresses as he breathed out a sigh of relief in sync with yours. 

Abbacchio

“Hey Gio, wake up!” you whisper shout as you tap the sleepy blond one on the knee. He stirs a little in his seat, Abbacchio’s head still sleepily leaning on his hair. Mista had followed retirement after Bruno, complaining his feet were sore from dancing, leaving you with the last trio. “Giorno come on it’s time to go to bed.” this time you’re a little louder as you push on his knee harder. Still to no avail does your Don seem to want to rouse. His companion next to him still seemingly sound asleep, a grumpy scowl adorning his beautiful features. “Don Giorno please get up!” Perhaps addressing him like that would finally work. And it did. His blue eyes lazily opened as he moved away from the couch, Abbacchio’s head beginning to dip where the emptiness now resided. Even through Giorno’s weary gaze he saw the silver haired man’s position and figured out that he was the heavy figure leaning on his hair that had became all mussed up, his rolls no longer standing. “It seems like I was a pretty good pillow. He won’t admit that though.” Giorno teased drowsily in his regular volume, a mistake he should have avoided. “Fuck off Giorno. You weren’t even comfortable.” Abbacchio growled, eyes still closed as he straightened himself on the sofa. Giorno merely let out an amused breath, the wine making him a little more loose lipped. “Don’t be so grumpy, you can admit that your Don’s hair is soft, I don’t mind. Actually I encourage it.” you were shocked to hear the statement, Giorno being a little more reserved in his usual manners. Guessing that the wine had offered him an unbothered mind and unlatched lips. “Watch it blondy, I won’t hesitate to smack my Don.” Abbacchio retorted as he got up from his spot to face Giorno next to you. He wasn’t trying to initiate a fight but his anger did seem genuine. “Come on Abbacchio don’t be like that, we’ll all go to bed, take a nice rest a-” you tried to take the situation a few steps back calmly but were cut off by the silver haired man. “Hey, keep out of it. He can handle himself.” he shot at you, seeing an instant regret in his eyes as he said his charged piece. Auwch that hurt, especially since you’d developed a crush on the man, it felt like he just stabbed into your heart and twisted the knife, the alcohol only heightening the emotions. Giorno and Narancia both interrupted at the same time to not be so rude at you, glad that your younger friends stood up for you. “Don’t talk to me that way, just because I like you doesn’t mean you can just walk all over me.” you confessed in a hurry feeling your words carry along the message you still wanted to keep a secret. Giorno couldn’t help but look between you and Abbacchio in surprise, curious to see where this was going. Narancia kept his ears perked from the back of the room as well. “Pfft, is this your idea of a joke?” Abbacchio cracked back, but the weight behind his message revealed a nervousness. “No. I meant it.” your head sagged in defeat, your feet already starting to make their way to your bedroom, not wanting to be anywhere near anyone, this had been too humiliating. “Wait I’m sorry... I’m such an asshole, fuck. I- I like you too I just- it’s shit-” he held onto your hand as he stumbled over his words, squeezing it in the hope you’d stay. “We’ll talk about it later, you asshole.” you squeezed back at his hand, continuing on your path to bed. 

Bonus Giorno & Narancia drunk hc’s:

Both are very loose lipped drunks, saying whatever’s on their mind. For Giorno this is bit more surprising behaviour than for Narancia. Although they’re both lightweights, Narancia carries it better thanks to his stamina. Giorno will still fall sound asleep after the fight with Abbacchio and you, he’ll worry about it in the morning when his head is cleared and he can give sound advice if you need it. Narancia still felt a little weird after the whole ordeal and and offered his company to fall asleep. Both still very sweet during their hazy party, Giorno even busting out a move together with Narancia who’s trying to teach him the choreography. 

#please imagine this as a continuous scenario like the situation that you want is the one that happens #and the rest is just continuation like a choose your own adventure thing #no fugo am so sorry #jjba fic #jjba x reader #team bucciarati #jjba headcanons #bruno x reader #mista x reader #abbacchio x reader #giorno x reader #narancia x reader #jjba scenarios #gn reader #sfw

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

One Shot: Ask Questions, Throw Shield Later.

Intro: Steve and Katie have an unwelcome late night visitor…

Warnings: “Language!” Smut (NSFW, 18+)

Pairing:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

W/C: 1.9k

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: The first of two (yes, two) special 29th May Birthday One shots. Happy Birthday Tony! Man, I missed writing for these guys in this timeline! This fits into SSB within “I Told You I Said Yes”.

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

“Fuck, Steve...” Katie groaned, her head tilting backwards as Steve gave another deep thrust upwards, “right there... Jesus.”

“Good?” Steve panted as his hands grabbed her waist, finger tips digging into the flesh that covered her hipbones.

She nodded, grinding on him faster, his hands pulling her down making sure he hit as deep as he could.

Their soft, intimate sounds filled the room and, wanting to be as close to her as he could get, Steve sat up drawing a gasp from Katie as he did so. His hands moved to her back. One splayed half way up her spine, the other cupped the back of her head. His fingers tangled in her long, silky hair as he pulled her face to his. He kissed her, hard, his tongue dominating hers as he swallowed her moan, one that rumbled in her throat as if it came from the depths of her belly.

They’d already danced this tango once already that night. After a few beers with the team in anticipation of Tony’s birthday (minus Natasha as she was still on something Fury was running), they’d retired and gotten a little frisky some two hours prior. But then Steve had woken, his super sharp hearing alerting himself to some form of ransom noise deep in the floors below them and, well, he couldn’t get back to sleep. So he’d hugged Katie close.

Too close.

As ever he was unable to control his reactions to his girl and had ended up with a boner. Meaning she’d woken with him basically rutting up against her back, feigning innocence when she’d given him a grumble at the fact he’d dragged her from her slumber.

She hadn’t been grumbling for long.

“Stevie... I’m gonna...” Katie’s forehead pressed into his, her mouth open as her lips hovered over his, and he thrust upwards again, his nose brushing hers softly, like the touch of a butterfly.

“Let go. Doll,” he panted, actively fighting his own high, “cum for me.”

Her chest heaved, pert nipples brushing his bare skin and her movements stuttered. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, which cracked into a half grunt, half moan as she felt herself go, her body positively floating from her high.

By the time she came round, Steve had also finished, his broad shoulders rising and falling as he gathered his breath. Katie collapsed forward with a soft chuckle, her forehead pressing into his collar bone as he fell backwards, taking her with him.

They lay still for a moment, the only sounds being their heavy breathing and the soft rustle of sheets as Steve pulled the bedding up around them. The smooth cotton brushing over her sensitive skin made Katie shudder a little. Steve smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple, his large hands running up and down her spine.

“Am I forgiven for waking you up?” He asked and she shrugged, not even bothering to try and find the strength to sit up. “It’s three AM. I’ll think about it.”

Steve chuckled and she sat up slightly, leaning down to give him a slow kiss.

“Love you.” she pulled back a little, her eyes shining in the dim light, and Steve smiled.

“Love you too.”

Fifteen minutes later they were both settled down and on the verge of sleep once more when a loud crashing in the apartment made them both sit bolt upright.

“What the...” Steve was out of bed in a flash, wrenching the door to their room open.

Katie was seconds behind him, stopping only to grab Steve’s shirt from the chair at the vanity. As she shrugged it on, she ran into the hallway and heard a familiar metallic whoosh. There was the squealing of metal on metal and Katie flicked on the light just in time to see a flash of blue, red and white as Steve’s shield flew back to his hand. He looked over to Katie as she stepped towards him, her mouth falling.

“Is that...” she glanced down at what looked like a version of one of Tony’s suits. It lay motionless on the floor in two pieces, Steve’s shield having severed it at the waist. The failing electrics sparked as the various boards and cogs died, before it fell silent.

Steve nudged it with his foot. It didn’t move. He turned to Katie, a frown on his handsome face.

“Did he tell you he was making them autonomous?”

“That’s nothing new, JARVIS has always been able to control them remotely.” Katie shook her head as she crouched down, her hand gently touching the helmet. She tried to move the face plate but it didn’t open. Rapping her knuckles on the skull, she was met with a solid sound, not the usual hollow echo.  “JARVIS?”

There was no reply.

“Why isn’t he answering?” Steve looked at her.

“Tony might have him down.” Katie answered. “He runs the updates at night some times. I do know one thing though.”

“What?” Steve asked as she stood up.

“That couldn’t have gotten in here without Tony letting it in one way or another.” She glanced at Steve, her pretty face full of annoyance. “Imma kill him, fucking idiot.”

She turned to leave and Steve gently caught her arm. “Honey...”

“Seriously? You want me to let this go?”

“Hell, no.” He shook his head, “I want you to wait for me to put some clothes on.”  

Despite herself, Katie grinned as her eyes scanned Steve’s naked body, his shield still on his arm. He rolled his eyes and nodded to the suit on the floor, “I’m going to give him his property back, along with a piece of my mind.” **** Tony spun round, his brow arching as Steve and Katie walked into the lab. But whatever smart quip he had been about to come out with died as he spotted what was slung over the super soldier’s broad shoulders. With a loud slam, Steve threw the two parts of the robot down on the desk.

“What did you do to it?” Tony moaned.

“Threw my shield at it.” Steve folded his arms over his chest, the sleeves of the white ribbed Tee he had shrugged on straining over his thick biceps.

Tony was that distracted by his destroyed robot that he failed to notice Katie stomping towards him. She drew her right fist back and punched him hard on the shoulder.

“Ow, Kiddo!”

“You dick!” She yelled. “What the hell were you doing sending that into our apartment?”

“Wanted to test your reaction to it.” Tony shrugged. “See how it came across.”

“How it ca- Tony, it’s half past 3 in the morning!” She shrieked.

“Exactly.” Tony scratched his beard. “Total element of surprise. I thought you guys would give me a base of how people would react to them. Can’t have been that well if Spangles felt the need to cut it in half with his frisbee.”

“We had no idea what or who it was.” Steve felt his anger beginning to rise, “what was I supposed to do?”

“I’ve told you before, big guy. Ask questions, throw shield later.” Tony shrugged, “I can’t believe you killed Iron Kid.”

“Iron Kid?” Katie blinked.

“Yeah, the name’s a working progress.”

“Tony, what is it?” Steve pressed.

“It’s a prototype.” Tony informed them. “I had the idea last week. The Avengers exploded after New York. You should see the piles of fan mail that the guys downstairs sort each day.”

“Less bragging, more explaining.” Katie narrowed her eyes.

“The point is, we attract attention. So I had a thought about something that could help keep the public at bay,” Tony gestured to the pile of metal, “we can use them to issue instructions, help aid the emergency services. Keep civilians out of the way.”

Katie and Steve looked at one another, and Steve hated to admit it but the idea made sense.

Sorta.

“Clearly I need to rethink a little.” Tony mused. “I mean if they freaked you out then...” “It freaked us out because it was in. our. apartment!” Katie groaned. “In the middle of the night.”

“That’s the point, it was supposed to have the element of surprise, wake you up.”

“Well there’s your first fuck up!” She hissed. “We were already awake-“

“Why?” Tony frowned

“Because we just finished a great, sweaty sex session.” She shot back and Steve groaned, feeling the heat in his neck as he looked down, his bare toes flexing against the cool floor of the lab. “And you wanna be grateful we had finished because if we hadn’t I’d be really, really mad. You get me?”

“That’s.. disgusting.” Tony wrinkled his nose.

“And you’re an asshole.” Katie shot back.

With a shudder, Tony moved and picked up a screwdriver. He turned the helmet up aside down and opened a small hatch at the back. Stooping slightly, he prodded and poked at something inside.

“Huh, least the main board wasn’t damaged.” He straightened up and turned to face them both. “So, other than scaring the shit out of you what was it like? Voice interface okay? Too much me or not enough me or-“

“There was no voice interface.” Steve replied.

“What?” Tony frowned, “JARVIS was supposed to be controlling it. It should have told you why it was there and-“

“Well he didn’t.” Steve rolled his eyes, his already stretched patience wearing dangerously thin.

“He didn’t...huh?” Tony frowned and Katie moved past him to a computer.

“Oh for the... he’s on mute you dumbass!” She tapped a few buttons and JARVIS’ voice rang out.

“Thank you Miss Stark.”

“Shit.” Tony gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry, buddy. Forgot I turned you off.”

“Mr Stark, may I suggest you call it a night, Sir? It is rather late and you’ve been awake for almost twenty-one hours. Miss Potts instructed me to ensure you-“ “And that is precisely why I did.” Tony rolled his eyes and Katie let out a growl of annoyance

“I’m done. Come on, Steve.”

She stalked towards the door and Tony looked up. “You not gonna wish me happy birthday?”

In response she raised the middle fingers on both her hands, flipping him off over her shoulders as she stomped out of the door.

Steve watched her go before she turned to Tony. “You know, I think you’re onto something. Keeping civilians away would make things a lot easier.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Tony nodded, eagerly. “We’d need a fleet of them, an Iron Fleet, no that’s... like i said, the names a work in progress.”

“We can discuss this tomorrow. Give it some proper though.” Steve took a deep breath. “Just don’t send any more into the apartment, please?”

Tony saluted him and Steve rolled his eyes. He turned to go before he stopped, and looked back at his friend.

“Happy birthday, pal.”

Tony snorted. “Cheers, Spangles.”

Tony watched Steve walk out of the lab, before he glanced back at the destroyed robot.

“Mr Stark... Miss Potts is awake...”

“Ahh shit.” Tony groaned. “How much trouble am I in?”

“I don’t think a Roman Legion would protect you.” JARVIS replied and Tony stilled, a huge grin spreading across his face.

“Iron Legion.” He tossed the screwdriver up in the air and caught it, chuckling. “JARVIS, you are a genius.”

“Why thank you, sir. And now I really must insist you go to bed.”

“Yeah, okay, I’m going. Lock everything down will you? Oh, and order us all breakfast from the diner on the corner of fifth.”

“Of course. The usual?”

“Yeah. Have it delivered about 10:30. Should be enough to calm Kiddo down.”

“Very wise Sir. I’ll ensure there’s extra bacon, just in case.”

“Yeah, who doesn’t love extra bacon?”

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

[bkgmaid]

Can you do the nsfw first time but with Gundham and fem reader?

as a secret gundham kin I was anticipating doing this one hehe !! thank you so much anon !

☆ it took a very long time for gundham to be comfortable being even remotely intimate with you. not because of you of course, but due to his own transgressions.

☆ he never really liked being touched in general, mostly due to peoples "mortal status", but as you two grew closer as a couple his walls very slowly fell

☆ it was subtle at first, but even the slightest bit of deviation in his comfort level threw him completely off his focus. showing a much, softer side of him when you did do.

☆ hand holding was a huge one, for at least a month every time you'd hold his hand to even cross a street you would turn to be faced a blushed man with a scarf over most of his face.

☆ though, that was a catalyst for more intimacy between the two of you to be allowed. And once you mustered up to courage to kiss him it went all downhill from there

☆ he wouldn't say it, God no he wouldn't, but he craved you. the taste of your lips, the heat of your body against his if only for a second, was one he couldn't shake from his mind.

☆ he even confided in his animals about it. and of course, in return they offered helpful romantic advice that he very blissfully ignored. mumbling on about how a immortal being of his stature doesn't have time to waste with silly feelings such as those.. that he should just brush it off.

☆ though of course, he couldn't. and soon it became apparent to you as well the insatiable desire that slowly overtook him. feeling him gaze at you when he thought you weren't looking, only for him to catch himself and blush, straightening his posture and looking the other way as he pull his scarf over his face once again.

☆ there's no doubt you wanted him too. he was adorable in that sense, always trying so hard to be mysterious. but if you just watched him you saw how quickly he was to falter. you knew how soft his true demeanor was.

☆ so of course, taking all of that into account one night you took it upon yourself to visit him. letting him know you were there before letting yourself in.

☆ he was sat on his bed, eyes slightly red and adorning his pajamas, which simply consisted of black sweatpants during the hotter months. he looked up at you, eyes filled with subtle curiosity given that you usually aren't one to visit him so late at night.

☆ you couldn't take your eyes off of him. you knew what you came there to do, but now that you were confronted with it you froze for a moment.

NSFW//

☆ but as you gaze into his eyes, watching his face soften as he looks at you, seeing his love for you painted all over his face as he stared back at you, you go in for a kiss.

☆ all you went there to do was kiss him, but that quickly became the least of the things you two were to do that night.

☆ as your lips met his, his eyes widened in a mix of shock and excitement. quickly, he lifted his hands to keep your face next to his, feeling the cool touch of his rings contrast the flustered warmth of your cheek.

☆ you were surprised by his advances, but you soon began to deepen the kiss, placing your hands at either side of the bed next to him to better stable yourself infront of him

☆ as the kiss you initiated turned into something deeper, hearing low moans escape his lips between each breath, you moved your legs to straddle his

☆ in doing so you made yourself completely surround him, and not a few moments later did he softly fall back onto his bed to allow you to crawl on top of him

☆ you both were getting very heated, but you could tell it could go much farther very quickly. you let up from his lips, a whimper quietly leaving his mouth as he looks at you in confusion.

☆ you ask for his full consent before continuing to do anything more, wanting to respect his comfort zone in regards to intimacy.

☆ though to your shock, he consents, eyes almost piercing with desire as he holds your face. simply, but fiercely stating that he "wants all of you".

☆ that was enough for you, way more than enough. you went all in.

☆ you began softly, passionately kissing his neck and chest as you feel his hands run through your hair. whenever you were to hit a slightly more sensitive place, you could feel him subconsciously tug on your hair just a little harder, though you're not one to complain.

☆ as soon as you reached his pants, you met with his eyes again. reassuring with him that you were allowed to continue. and with the look you saw in his eyes it seemed more than anything as if he was begging for it.

☆ you slowly slid down his pants, boxers included, to reveal his cock. it was obvious he wisent one to explore its pleasures himself, because at the mere feeling of its sensitive state clash with the cool breeze flowing into the room was enough to make him squirm.

☆ you took this into account before you began to toy with it a little. softly stroking it as you held a few of his fingers, feeling him quickly grip onto you following a low moan anytime you hit a weak spot.

☆ after some time of gentle teasing, you couldn't hold yourself back anymore. you were obsessed with his sound, with his taste, with how he looked as you played with him.

☆ you slowly crawl on top of him again, stripping yourself of your clothes as you stay straddled over his stomach. you saw his eyes follow you in desire, hands spazzing slightly at his sides, not knowing where to hold you.

☆ you place yourself over his cock, gently asking him if you're allowed to go further. his eyes widened once again in shock at the implications of what you were about to do, but he nodded his head slightly so you could finally begin to pleasure the both of you again.

☆ you slowly slid down on him, watching an overwhelming amount of pleasure overtake his face as you go deeper. his hands instinctively grip you by the waist, begging for you to grind on him as you sit on him.

☆ so of course, you oblige. softly moving your hips back and forth on his cock, feeling his hands grip around your waist tight as they beg you to go faster. the room filled with low moans and groans coming from him and you.

☆ you try very hard to keep the same pace the whole time, but as he became more needy for you, and, as you got closer to finishing, you couldn't control yourself.

☆ by the end, you were still grinding at a moderate pace, but gundhams grunting and movements in general became more needy. more whines start to escape him as hes essentially moving your hips back and forth. thrusting up into you with his cock to the best of his abilities.

☆ not too soon later, he asks you to get off. quickly finishing on his stomach to avoid any issues that would ruin what you two currently had.

☆ as realization began to hit the both of you, you just lay in shock. out of breath from your first time, sore all over. all you can do is wriggle up to meet his height on the bed and hold him.

☆ you both are completely exhausted, so after he cleans up a little with whatever he had laying around at arms length, he reciprocated the embrace. softly holding you as you drifted into sleep. quietly thanking you as he stroked your hair. he felt loved.

#gundham tanaka #gundham x reader #sdr2 gundham #danganronpa headcanons #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa #y/n #gundham #tanaka #danganronpa 2 #smut #dr smut #danganronpa smut #headcanon #imagine #one shot

[theboredwritertm]

hi if you write smut.... maybe mando being the reader’s first time?? if not, ignore this :))

Innuendo 

A/N: I’m going to admit this was the first request I received (ever) for The Mandalorian and it’s been gathering dust for the past couple of weeks (because I’m a simp for Cobb Vanth apparently??) Anyway, so sorry it’s taken this long, anon. I haven’t written this kind of thing before, but always love the chance to try new subject matter. Thanks for sending it through! I’ll admit this piece felt kind of clunky as I was writing it, but since I’m (sorta) sticking to a posting schedule now, I just wanted to get it done. And apparently, I can’t write something without backstory, so it got a little long!

Rating: 18+ for adult situations

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: Awful jokes and innuendos, awkwardness, a clueless Din, probably swearing, consensual sex, loss of virginity

Word Count: 5930 (Once again, consider the first 3000 words terrible foreplay)

Summary: After putting up with months of your supposedly-unintentional innuendos, Din finally takes charge…only to find out things aren’t quite what he expected.  

He’d picked you up like a Bantha tick and hadn’t been able to shake you since.

You’d managed to argue your way into a semi-permanent position onboard the Crest after what he would call a rescue, but what you still stubbornly referred to as an ‘assisted retreat’, and it didn’t look like you planned on leaving any time soon. 

So, he was stuck with you. At least that’s how he liked to think of the situation.

Never mind that it was nice to have someone to come back to after a long mission that could actually talk back to him. Or that you kept the ship neat and tidy. Or that you were practically a live-in babysitter for the little one at this point. Not to mention the way you always managed to throw together decent meals for the three of you that didn’t always come out of a pack – and that you seemed to enjoy doing so. 

And never mind that he liked listening to your soft, happy hums as you stirred together whatever ingredients you had managed to pull together, and that he’d stand in the doorway, silent as a shadow as he took this in, thinking to himself that if a Bantha was half as lucky to pick up a tick like you, it could do much worse for itself.

But what really got to him were the jokes.

You weren’t what he would consider shy, not since you seemed to have no problem at all talking back to him when he had grown so used to others shrinking back at the mere sight of him – still, he hadn’t been expecting the first comment that had just sort of slipped out of you after a few weeks of being in each other’s company. By that point you were comfortable enough to throw the odd sarcastic quip around at each other without having to worry about someone getting offended, so that’s what he had decided to take it as: a joke. At least, the first time. 

Since the Crest was prone to the odd malfunction, given its age and what he guessed to be a few too many battles before it was decommissioned, it hadn’t surprised him to walk into a cockpit full of smoke one day. What had surprised him was the way you had stepped into the room, taken one look around as you waved the smoke from your face, and said, “Is it hot in here, or is it just you?”

He’d taken it as he thought he should. A bad joke. You were prone to them as he had come to find, and there’d been plenty of times that he’d heard you use the same kind of lines on people you needed something from. In his case, he guessed that something was shelter and a place to lay low for a while. And he had obliged.  

The second time wasn’t as bad. It was worse. Terrible, even. He had no idea what you’d been going for, but as he’d approached the ship after a particularly grueling job and found you standing on the ramp, one foot balanced on a crate and look of mock-seduction, you’d cocked an eyebrow and greeted him with, “Hey, handsome. Looking for a ride?” 

His response? A semi-confused, completely weary, “It’s my ship,” as he’d passed you by.

The third time he thought maybe he’d just taken it the wrong way.

You’d been discussing his work, how long it had been between jobs, and how you were both getting a little light on credits. You’d shaken your head, lounging sideways in the co-pilot seat in a way that always looked uncomfortable to him, but seemed just fine to you, when you’d said, “I don’t get it. There’s got to be work out there somewhere.” Then you’d paused for a moment before adding, “If I looked hard enough, I’m sure I could find a few openings for you to fill.” He had frowned and glanced over, certain he’d caught the passing ghost of a smirk on your lips before you resumed looking completely innocent, as if you were simply pondering the tricky predicament you found yourselves in. 

Then there was the touching.

At first, he’d found excuses to move out of your reach, an attempt to make his knee-jerk reaction to shrug you off look less obvious. Then one day he’d exercised some restraint as you’d popped a warm, friendly hand on his thigh before getting up from the co-pilot’s seat, announcing you were ready for bed, and he’d realized…he kind of liked it. What, to you, (he was sure) was just fleeting, friendly touches – something ordinary and human he had been deprived of growing up – started to become something he would linger on for hours, sometimes days afterwards. There was something frustrating in the way you could make something that felt so intimate to him look so casual to you. 

Another time, more recently, was probably the worst of the lot – but only because of the effect it’d had on him.

During the last stop-off, you’d both been standing in the holding bay surveying the handful of acquisitions he had stored in carbonite. Work had finally picked up, and you’d proven surprisingly helpful in acquiring them, but in that particular instance, there had been a slight problem – two of them were destined for the same planet, but the cities were in complete opposite directions. The timeframes to meet the employers would never have allowed him to make both trips. So, you’d stepped up, placing a hand on his arm as you’d surveyed the captives and said, “Look, I’ve never been much of a delivery person, but I’m more than happy to handle your package for you, just this once.” He’d stared at you, glancing down briefly at the hand on his armor, then up at your smile. “What do you say?” you’d asked, eyes never leaving his visor.

It had taken a troubling amount of self-control not to close up the ramp and show you just how okay with that proposition he was. Because it had been a long time since he’d last gotten the chance. He’d blame the dry spell on the kid, on new responsibilities that hadn’t been there before, but it had been like this for well-over a year, way before the Child had even come into his life. Gone were the days of his youth where he could pick someone out of a bustling cantina crowd and lead them off silently to some grimy bathroom or backroom for a quick fuck – them, for the thrill of being with one of his kind, and him, out of sheer physical need. He’d made peace with the fact that those days were behind him (and considering the state of some of those bathrooms – and some of the partners – it was probably for the best). But that didn’t mean that the need went away. And then there was you.

You, with your perfect skin and the glow of youth still about you. Your long, shiny hair that always made his fingers twitch with need to reach out and run them through it. Your (cute) annoying laugh, and the way you would crinkle up your nose as you found something he’d said particularly funny for some reason he could never figure out (him, fumbling with switches from the pilot’s seat as he attempted to focus, ignoring the smile prickling at his own mouth as the sweet sound of your giggling flipped the doofus switch in his brain). You with the form-fitting pants you sometimes wore when a mission called for something you could move easily in, ones that made his own pants feel a little more form fitting when he stared for long enough to let his mind wander. 

You and your damn jokes.

In the end, much to his surprise, it wasn’t a joke that had finally sent him over the edge. It was a simple word, and this time you actually had context to back you up, to assure him that it wasn’t you just fucking with him. Given the situation, it absolutely shouldn’t have had the effect on him that it did. But it had triggered something in him that even he didn’t know he was into.

The kid had been seated in his usual spot, in the seat behind Din’s, when you’d walked in and spotted his big eyes beginning to droop. You had developed a routine with him now – dinner, a bit of bonding time with Din in the cockpit, then bed – and so far, it had seemed to work well for the little guy. You were new to the whole childcare thing, but it made it easier for you to know where punishment and reward was warranted – especially since you were terrible at telling him off. One look at his little face and all wrongdoings were forgotten, something Din never seemed particularly impressed with (even if he was just as guilty of it as you were).

You approached the seat, reaching down to scoop up the sleepy bundle, and pulled him close.

“Come on, little one. Let’s leave daddy to his thing. Time for bed.”

As you turned and headed for the steps leading down to his cot, you failed to notice the way Din had stiffened in his seat. He turned his head to watch you go, eyes dropping down to linger on your ass as the word replayed in his mind. Then he turned back to the flight console, hand lingering over it in a split-moment of indecision, before he flicked on auto-pilot and got to his feet.

Enough was enough. 

*

You had absolutely been fucking with him.  

The first time it had just sort of slipped out, you’ll admit. After years of dealing with the Guild, which what was honestly a bit of a boys’ club, you’d developed the shitty flirting as a reflex to seem more at ease with whoever you were working with (and, okay, sometimes it got you better jobs, too. So what?) But after catching Din’s initial reaction (back when you knew him solely as the strong, silent Mando) you knew it was a thread you had to tug at. And tug at it, you had, just to see the man unravel. 

You knew the risks, knew the Mandalorian’s reputation, but part of you had wondered how far you could take it…how far you wanted it to go. 

You were about to find out.

As you pressed the button to close up the baby’s metal capsule, smiling as you caught one last glimpse of his sleeping form, you turned to find yourself face-to-helmet with the man himself. Even without seeing his face, there was still an intensity to the way he was looking at you, how he leaned in until you have no choice but to back yourself up against the cold steel of the wall. 

“This needs to stop,” he says, tone full of warning. Though you could have sworn there was a touch of something else to his voice. You want to say it sounds like desperation, but that feels a little self-indulgent, even for you.

“I’m sorry. Did you want to put the kid to bed? I just thought—”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

His hand comes up to rest beside you on the wall, as he leans in closer, effectively boxing you in. 

Oh, boy. 

You wonder if this is the same technique he uses on people he’s trying to get information from and if it should be having this effect on you. You’re almost certain it’s fear that you should be feeling, not, uh, this. You clear your throat and look up at him, wracking your brain for what you’ve done or said in the last ten minutes to warrant this kind of reaction from him, especially given the more obvious attempts to rile him up over the past couple of months. You’d picked up the kid, same as you did every other night. Maybe it was the way you’d bent over to do it. You glance down briefly at your clothes, but it’s not a particularly revealing outfit. You’d worn much less in front of him before with far less reaction. Maybe it was something you’d said?

Come on, little one. Let’s leave daddy to-

Oh. 

Oh.

The word leaves your mouth as a soft question intended mainly for yourself, a thought given voice. Din stiffens immediately, across from you. You look up at him, realizing at the same time he does that you’ve caught on.

“Wait, really? Is that what this abou—?”

His other hand comes up towards your throat, and for a moment you think he’s going to choke you (and you’re a little concerned that the feeling you get from that thought still isn’t fear) but his touch is gentle. His hand comes to rest on the side of your neck, thumb against your cheek as he looks at you for a moment before his voice comes through once more. 

“Say it again.”

You keep your gaze trained on his visor, where you’re sure his eyes are currently burning into you, and feel heat flooding in opposite directions in your body; up to your face, and down between your legs. And you feel ridiculous. You had never been into that kind of thing before, and you feel silly saying it; but if there’s one thing you are into, it’s the big guy in front of you – the one telling you to say this one little word, just for him – and having him this close talking to you like this, well it might just be worth the humiliation. Hell, maybe that’s something you’re into, as well.

“Daddy?”

The hand on the wall next to you pulls back as he growls, and slams forward fast enough to make you jump, smacking against the light switch, bathing you both in sudden darkness. You feel him lean in closer, certain that if you were to move your head even slightly forward it would come into contact with the cold beskar of his helmet.

“Do you want this?” his voice, gravelly with lust, sounds through the modulator, as the hand on your neck begins to slide downwards.

Shit.

Even if you had wanted to say no before – you hadn’t – you’re sure the low rumble in his tone would have changed your mind. You’d never heard him keyed up like this before. He always had a way of keeping it together, of staying in control, but you’d been messing with him for so long, teasing, casually throwing your innuendos around, knowing exactly what you were doing to him. You don’t know why you feel so surprised that it’s finally come down to this. It was kind of like a daydream, a fantasy finally coming true, and you feel completely unprepared.

“I do, Din, seriously, but, uh, there’s just—”

“What is it?”

You wonder how you’re going to break it to him. Honestly, you feel like a fucking fraud after everything you’ve put him through. You feel like you’ve been leading him on. You sigh and duck your head as you make your confession.

“I’ve never done this before.”

You don’t know how to explain it, but you feel him suddenly deflate, as if the tension in the room has been replaced with something akin to disappointment. 

“You’re joking?” And for once, you’re not.

He doesn’t mean for the words to come out the way they do, and even though he can’t say he’s any less turned on by this revelation he knows there are implications there that can’t be ignored if he wants to keep going. Only, right now, he’s not feeling very patient. 

You wince at the level of exasperation in his tone. “No.”

There’s silence for a moment and you have to reach out to feel that he’s still there, your hand landing on his chest plate. His hand comes up to rest on top of yours, and you think that maybe its to pull it away, that the lights will come back on at any moment and this opportunity will disappear forever, but he holds it there, thinking things over. 

“How much experience do you have? Any?”

There’s a change to his tone, now. He sounds curious.

“Yeah, I mean I’ve…”

Why does this feel so fucking awkward suddenly? You’ve spent the last six months in this man’s daily company, and while that might not seem like a lot of time in terms of getting to know a person, a majority of that was spent in the confined space of the Crest. You know each other’s routines now; all the little habits and pet peeves you can only pick up on when living in close quarters with someone else. You know he likes silence at meal times, but that he’s more open to conversation after time away on a job, and you’ve come to be able to tell just from his posture if that job had gone well. You know some of each other’s history – him mostly learning yours, since you’re by far the chattier person – yet, still, your face is hot with embarrassment as you recall the handful of experiences you’ve had. You’d never talked about this kind of stuff. You’d only ever joked about it.

“You know, like, mouth stuff.”

“Mouth stuff?” he repeats, and you swear there’s laughter in his voice when he says it.

Your face is beginning to feel unbearably hot, and you’re sure that if he decided to read your heat signature right now your skin would look like you’d just spent a week straight wandering the Tatooine desert. 

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“Hm,” he replies thoughtfully, like he does and that maybe he’s picturing it, “What else?”

“Hand—”

“Hand stuff?” he cuts you off, undeniably making fun of you now. 

You smack him in the chest plate, only managing to send a sting through your hand in the process, then push forward as if to move past him, like you think you could make your way anywhere in this darkness. “You know what? Maybe I don’t want this, after all.”

It’s a blatant lie, but you’re starting to think maybe humiliation’s not your thing after all.

He stops you and you don’t resist. You’d been wanting this pretty much from day one, back when he’d assisted with your retreat after a hunt had gone sideways – from the moment you’d watched him swagger into the cantina and stand calmly between you and the half-dozen armed men who were protecting their wanted leader. Back when you’d been just a young, fellow hunter in need of aid.

“Tell me what you want,” he asks you now.

You think about it for all of two seconds. “I want y—This. I want this.” You stumble over what is almost too much of a confession. It feels too soon to tell heavy truths like that, so you settle for what you already know he’s offering. “Just…go easy.”

There’s a silence that seems to drag out in the darkness, then a hiss as he removes his helmet. You feel his body move closer to yours, and you swear that’s his hair brushing your cheek as he leans in and says, “I can do that.”

He scoops you up without warning, reminding of how quick and strong he can be even when he’s weighed down by all that armor, and you find you can’t help yourself as you say: 

“You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

Without the helmet, his sigh meets your skin as a warm huff across your face.

“Do me a favor?”

“Sure,” you reply without hesitation, feeling him still beneath you.

“No more jokes. Please.”

You laugh at the exasperation in his voice and find yourself caught completely off guard when you hear a huff of breath escape him that might have passed for laughter, too, but before you can say anything you find yourself being whisked away towards what you assume is the small space of his sleeping quarters. He seems to know his way well enough to not bump into anything along the way, but even so you hug yourself in tight to avoid any knocks to the head. You look up as a door rasps open in front of you and you can only barely make out the outline of the bed. Din is quick to place you down on it before he drops his helmet to the floor and starts tugging off his armor, placing it somewhere nearby. You sit on the edge of the mattress staring awkwardly into the darkness, knowing you should probably start undressing, too, but suddenly feeling self-conscious despite the pitch darkness that surrounds you. 

“Do you want me to undress you?” Din asks, and his tone is gentle enough for it to be a serious question. 

You shake your head in response after thinking it over for a minute before remembering he can’t see you. 

“You’ll have to use your words,” he says, “The lights need to stay off.” He pauses for a moment, then adds, “Is that okay?”

You know it’s not him asking if you’re expecting him to betray his creed in order for this to happen; it’s him asking if you’re okay with not being able to see anything for your first time. 

Your first time.

Urgh. It sounds so juvenile when you think about it that way, but so far, it’s living up to the adolescent kind of awkwardness you had expected, back when you had actually been an adolescent. You were past that now, and if you’re being honest with yourself that’s part of what’s making you feel self-conscious about this whole thing. You feel like this should have happened a long time ago. You wonder if Din thinks it odd that you’ve left it for this long.

“That’s fine,” you tell him quickly. Though you wish you could see him, not only to know what you’ll be working with, but also because doing it this way adds a layer of anonymity you didn’t necessarily want to associate with your first time. You’d always pictured it being with someone you felt close to – as cliché as it sounded, someone who was special to you. And even though that was true in this case, not being able to see that certain someone was detracting from the whole experience. 

You feel movement in front of you and a large, warm hand finds your knee, running it over the fabric that still covers your body.

“We don’t have to do this if you’ve changed your mind,” Din tells you. His voice is different without the helmet; softer, gentler. Or maybe it’s just the circumstances that has him talking to you this way. You’d heard him use this kind of tone on the Child, and you had always admired the level of patience he always managed to show the kid, but you’d never found yourself on the receiving end of it like this before. It’s comforting.

Comforting enough to confirm your decision.

His hand moves away as he feels you start to shimmy out of your clothes. Your top goes first, up and over your head, joining his pile on the floor, then you reach down for the button on the front of your pants. You pause, realizing how exposed you’ll be, even with the cool air meeting your already-exposed nipples. This is a different kind of exposed, you think; more intimate. You give yourself a moment. 

“May I?” he asks, and you’re surprised enough by his politeness that you nod, forgetting again he can’t see you, and breath out, “Yeah.”

You move your hand and let him take over, feeling his deft fingers make quick work of your button and zipper before he starts to tug the fabric down your legs, taking your pants and underwear all in one go. His hands find your knees and you sigh at the skin-on-skin contact, never expecting the man to feel this warm. You hear him drop down to his knees and suddenly feel warm breath between your legs. You make to close your legs at the unexpected sensation, unsure about having him this close to that area, but his hands come up to pull them back apart.

“What are you doing?” you ask, only to distract you both, because your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest at how fast this is moving.

“Mouth stuff,” he replies simply.

It’s simple, dry humor, but you swear he never makes you laugh more than when he catches you off guard with stuff like that. You don’t think anyone else would believe you if you tried to tell them how funny he can be without even trying. The joke manages to diffuse some of your anxiety and you relax back onto the bed, trusting him with whatever he’s about to do. Still, you gasp when his mouth meets your core, and he hums happily against you. You’ve done this with someone once before, but the memory feels clumsy compared to what Din is doing now; his grip tight around your waist and tongue immediately finding the right places. You try not to think about where he’s had the practice, focusing instead on the sensation he’s creating with a simple flick of his tongue.

You start to make noises you don’t think have ever come from you before, unable to help yourself with the sudden assault on your sensitive nerve endings. He pauses from what he’s doing as if struck by a sudden thought, smiling at the way you whimper at the sudden loss of contact.

“Have you ever cum before?” he asks.

“I think so,” you reply, but if you were being completely honest, you’re not sure. And least, not with another person. You’re pretty sure you’ve gotten there on your own. You think. You feel like that’s something you should know for sure.

“You think so?” he repeats, sounding unconvinced. 

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve had, you know, urges, I took care of them, then they were gone.”

He makes a thoughtful sound and ones of his thumbs finds your clit, rubbing a couple of circles before he dips it down to your center to scoop up some of the wetness there to bring back up again. 

“You don’t sound very sure,” he says casually, like he’s not driving you crazy right now with a simple touch. Feeling slightly pathetic, you can only whine, your brain feeling scrambled as his assault on your clit empties it of all coherent thought. “Next time I ask you, I want you to be a little more certain,” he tells you, and without warning dives back in, his tongue taking over from his thumb at a much faster pace. Your back arches off the bed and he slips his free arm across your hips, holding you in place. 

You soon feel pressure at your entrance as he presses a finger carefully against it and in your frenzied state you push forward onto it, forgetting in a moment of desperate need your body’s inexperience with something like that. You’re wet enough that it doesn’t hurt, but it’s still a foreign feeling having something inside of you, and you realize that’s only one finger. Before you can start to imagine how something larger is going to feel, he presses the finger upwards inside of you and hits a spot you’ve never felt before. You cry out, caught completely off guard as the tight feeling in your lower belly breaks and you cum hard against him, hips bucking uncontrollably against his face. He growls against you, but doesn’t stop moving until your hips do. 

“Fuck,” you whine, still panting as he slides his finger out of you and gives you one last lick. Still sensitive, you yelp and jerk back from the sensation, making him chuckle.

“Now you can say you’ve cum,” he tells you, and hell if he doesn’t sound proud of himself for giving you that. 

“Yeah,” you agree, still barely able to form a proper thought. Then one comes to you. You sit up. He’s getting to his feet in front of you and it’s put him at the perfect height for what you have in mind. 

He’s not expecting it when your hand finds his length, giving away his surprise with a sharp intake of breath. You take a moment to guess at his size, thinking once again how it’s going to feel once he’s inside of you, but any thought of pain is completely overridden by the very idea of having him inside you at all.  But one thing at a time – you want to explore a few things first.

“Do you mind if I return the favor?” you ask him. You’re feeling different after your orgasm – feeling a sudden, renewed confidence – and the way his breath hitches as you start to pump him up and down sends a thrill through your body. He doesn’t reply, answering instead with a simple touch as his hands find your head, brushing your hair back from your face. You’ve done this before, too, but unlike your partner’s attempt on you at the time, yours had proven more successful.

You bob your head forward to find him, lips meeting the head of his cock and parting to let it enter. As your tongue laps at its underside, Din drops his head back with a moan that only encourages you further. You take as much of him inside your mouth as you can, letting the salty taste of him hit as close to the back of your throat as you’re comfortable with, and his grip tightens on your head as he fights the urge to buck forward. You’d said to go easy, and he’s mindful of that, but picturing what you must look like right now, face pink and glowing from your orgasm, mouth stuffed with his cock, he wishes he could flick the light on for a second just to see it. You guide your head back and forth, taking in all the sounds he’s making for you, testing particular places just to see what else you can make him do. All the while he continues to stroke your hair, murmuring praise that sounds strained as tries to force the words out, things like, ‘Good girl’ and ‘Yeah, just like that’.

All the praise starts to go to your head though, it seems, as you forget your earlier feelings of humiliation and whisper back, “You like that, daddy?” Then you pick up your pace and have him moaning to the point where he has to stop you. He gently grabs your head, pulling his hips back and plucking himself from your mouth with a slick ‘pop’.

“We’re going to have to stop there, sweet girl, or your going to make me cum.”

You simply look up to where his voice is coming from and make a sad little hum, any self-conscious thoughts or anxiety long gone at the sound of his half-ruined tone, and you find yourself eagerly awaiting the next step, your body begging for further touch. He chuckles at your reaction and leans down to find your lips, capturing them in a searing kiss, both of you groaning as you taste each other. It’s the first kiss you’ve shared with him, and as he moves forward and forces you back onto the bed, you find your legs come up automatically to wrap around him. That’s when you feel him, hard and pressing into your thigh. 

“How do you want to do this?” he asks, as he grabs his length and rubs his tip between your folds to coat himself with your wetness. You moan when he passes over your clit and give yourself a moment to bask in the sensation as he continues to rub over that area. 

“Just go slow,” you tell him, then you feel his cock move down from your clit to your entrance, now that you’ve finally given him permission. He only applies the slightest pressure, letting you get used to each new sensation as he introduces it, but you’re so slick down there that he begins to slip in. You tense, waiting for the sharp sensation you’re sure is coming.

“Relax.” Din’s hips have stilled, and he reaches up in the darkness to run his thumb across your cheek, soothing you. “Deep breaths, okay? I’ll make it feel good for you.”

You nod, and this time he feels the movement against his hand and doesn’t ask you to voice it, instead taking it as his cue to continue on. There’s a momentary sharp, burning sensation deep inside as you feel everything stretch, but as he slowly begins to move his hips, you find it fades more and more with each thrust, your wetness coating him and amplifying your pleasure. You’ve never felt this full before, not in this way, but he’s big enough to be hitting all your best spots at the same time. You’ve never felt this close to cumming this quickly.

“Shit.”

Hearing that single word, he starts to pick up speed and you clutch at whatever part of him you can reach, giving yourself up to the sensation as you feel that electric, tightening sensation starting again in your lower belly.

“Do you think you’re close?” he pants, because he knows he is – dangerously so – but he wants to keep true to his word. He wants to make this experience just as good for you. 

You fail to answer, unable to stop the harsh cries leaving your mouth instead, and you don’t have time to tell him before the feeling breaks inside of you again and you’re pulsing around him. You cry out, louder than before, and this is enough to send him over the edge, too. He slips out at the last moment, and you feel warm bursts of liquid squirt across your stomach.

“Sorry,” he pants, grunting as he braces himself on one hand and then shivers through a couple of aftershocks, “I didn’t— I couldn’t—”

“It’s fine,” you tell him, voice just as breathless. And it is fine. You couldn’t care less about it. Your entire body feels more relaxed than it has in months. You feel spent in the best possible way and right now you’d be fine to just fall into a pile on the sheets and sleep.

He collapses onto the mattress next to you, his body close to yours in the small space, warm and sweaty, and you’re surprised when he slips an arm underneath you to bring you closer. “So, was that okay? Do you feel okay? Sore?”

“Yeah. I mean, no, I’m okay.” The words come out as a few huffs of breath and, still high on endorphins, the noise makes you laugh. 

Din gives you a squeeze at the familiar sound, smiling to himself in the darkness. Then he makes a thoughtful noise.

“What?” you ask.

“It’s nothing. It’s just…You’ve never been in here before.”

“So?” You gaze around in the darkness, thinking it is a little cramped compared to the space you’d made for yourself in the much larger cargo hold, and realize maybe that’s what he’s hinting at.

“I think you should cum here more often.”

“Did you just…?” You sit up to look at him the darkness, never in a million years expecting such a horrible, so very like-you joke to be uttered by the man and he yanks you back down and pulls you close, ignoring the sticky mess he’s made of you.

Then you hear a sound you’re not familiar with, and feel his warm breath against you as he laughs. 

“Din Djarin, that joke was terrible.”

He presses a kiss to the side of your head and heaves a sigh that suggests fast approaching sleep. “I learned from the best.” 

#din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #fic requests #the mandalorian #din djarin imagines #din djarin

[miss--aura]

Saw your requests were open! I too love Fatgum so maybe an +18 plus scenario with some angst? Like maybe you were good friends but now both are stuck in limbo after sleeping with each other one night. Confused about what they are. Sorry if I'm not making sense.

Stuck In between

Pairing: Taishiro Toyomitsu x Reader

Warnings: angst, bad smut because I had a headache while writing the ending, idk what to put for warnings, banana milk sucks

Requested by: ness-is-a-vanillabean

On a serious note I decided I don't know how to wrote angst or if this counts as angst lmao.

It was a spur of the moment decision, at least that's what you kept telling yourself. You were drunk, and let your lust get the better of you and now you didn't know what to do.

You shouldn't have let Midnight convince you to go, you shouldn't have taken the wine glass offered to you. It was all just some big mistake that you made, and it landed you where you are now.

You haven't left your house in a week and you certainly havent been checking any messages on your phone. Luckily you could work from home, but you couldnt hide forever.

"God, I'm so stupid!" Slamming your head on your desk with a groan, tears forming in your eyes as you choke out a sob.

No matter how hard you tried it kept replaying in your head. The way his eyes seemed to drink you up, his hands caressing every inch of your body, the way he filled you up hitting the spots that made you forget your name.

Part of you didn't regret it at all, getting out all of the lust filled emotions was such a nice release to something you've been holding onto for god knows how long.

Yet, you couldnt look back on the memory in a fond light. Because in the end, you said I love you. You said I love you to your bestfriend, and now you couldn't even talk to him.

He'd called you at least 15 times a day since then, over 200 messages being left unread. You just had to go and be selfish, didn't you? Ruin the one good thing you had in your life.

You wondered how he was doing, not that you'd ask. But at the same time, you were his bestfriend and you confessed your love to him in a drunken haze and haven't spoken to him since.

All the ways you could've confessed, you had to go and do it when you were drunk out of your mind and being pounded into a mattress. Going back to work at the agency would be a nightmare now.

One week left until you actually had to go back to the agency. Meaning one week to figure out how to avoid Taishiro for the rest of your life. Did you want to avoid him? No, but you'd rather avoid him than own up to your own emotions.

Picking your head up off the desk you decide to actually do something productive for once. You needed groceries anyways and right now was the perfect time to do so, considering Taishiro would be patrolling the other side of town.

You quickly freshen up and head out the door, the grocery store being only a few blocks away so you could manage walking there and back.

It was a short walk, being about 15 minutes give or take a few. Now that you were scanning shelves you realized how long it had really been since you've seen, well, another human.

It almost made you laugh, how seeing really people made you feel better about the situation your in. Sucking in your cheeks you put a small case of banana milk into your cart.

Taishiro didn't really care for it, but it was almost a comfort item for you. He always said it just tasted like a banana, and it'd cost less to buy regular bananas instead. Though you'd disagree everytime he brought it up.

Sure, it tasted like bananas, but it is banana milk so whatever. Plus it came in cute boxes with a straw and who were you to deny something that looked so cute.

Making it to checkout, you place your items on the counter. Allowing the cashier to do their job while you let your eyes wander around the store.

It wasn't big, but it had a comforting feel. Maybe it was because you'd been feeling down, or maybe it was the way you'd been here so many times that the familiarity was comforting to you.

Never the less you give a small smile to the cashier, finishing the rest of your items as you pay. Fishing the bags into your arms as you start the short journey back to your home.

"Need help carrying those bags?" The voice made you freeze in place. There was no way this was happening, he wasn't supposed to be here. He was on duty, right?

"Listen we need to talk, you can't keep ignoring me."

"I don't wanna talk right now, aren't you on duty anyway? I have to go put these away." You start walking off, hurrying to get away.

"I'm a hero, I help people in need. You aren't feeling like yourself which means it's my place to help. Is it not?"

"I said I don't want to talk, I said something I didn't mean, and I have to face the consequences for that. Okay?"

"So you don't love me?" You swear you could hear the hurt in his voice, but you told yourself you were hearing things. You can't ruin this anymore than you already have.

You can't bring yourself to respond, quickening your pace as your eyes fill with tears. Trying to blink them away only causing them to slide down your face. Not that you bother to wipe them because you know Taishiro is still watching you walk away.

He doesn't like you like that, he's a pro hero, you're just an office lady. That's what you have to remember. Whatever you thought you had, was just you trying to convince yourself that something could happen.

It didn't matter if you wanted to run into his arms, nothing would change. You'd be the hopeless romantic who had feelings for a hero who didn't have time to waste on a relationship.

"Y/n wait! Stop walking so fast I can't keep up!" Taishiro's voiced filled through your ears, your heart melting at the sound. But for once, your head was in control. Head over heart, that's what your mom always said.

"Go away 'shiro." It came out more broken than you wanted it to and you knew he could see right through you as much as you wanted to hide away from your feelings your feet plant themselves no longer letting you move further.

Two arms wrapping around your waist in the tightest hug you've ever experienced. Stealing the air from your lungs as a small whine of pain escapes your lips.

"Y/n, listen to me. You can't keep avoiding me. I've been worried sick about you, can't you tell? I thought I was dreaming when you told me you loved me but just as soon as that happened you dissapeared. Please Y/n talk to me."

You shook your head more tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to speak without sounding like you were dying. Though it felt like you were.

"You don't love me 'shiro, I gotta get over you but whenever you're near me it makes it so hard. No matter how hard I try I keep falling harder."

"Who said I don't love you? Angelcake, you never asked me if I loved you. Look at you, what is there not to love about you? When you said you loved me I'd never been more happy in my entire life. So please, stop running away from me, I hate not being with you."

"'shiro..."

"Shh, let's get you home, I wanna show you how much I love you."

Arriving at your house, you force the key into the door as quick as you can manage. Taishiro taking notice to how desperate you were to enter.

Pushing the door open you realize how messy your house was, an awkward smile spreading across your face as you let him in. "Please excuse the mess, it's not usually like this I've just been having a hard time recently."

"As if it's any worse than mine, besides I'm not here to judge you." He grins placing his hand in yours and leading you to your bedroom. Seeing as he'd been here enough to know the lay out of your house.

Just as soon as you were in your room, he was all over you. Kissing you with so much passion you thought you were dreaming by the way he seemed to be bleeding out lust.

Taishiro opted to use his normal form in moments like this, his fat body not working when it came to the more intimate moments. Not that you loved him any less in any form.

You whine into the kiss, your body on fire from the arousal building up within you. Clawing at your close to get them off, desperate to have Taishiro's hands be on your bare skin.

"Someones needy, aren't they?"

"'shiro, please I want you. I've been waiting for this."

He hums, giving you a small nod as his hands sneak up your shirt. Helping you strip out of your clothes before falling suite with his own.

His hands grope your breasts squeezing lightly to get a reaction out of you. Which you give through a small moan. The noise is just enough to get him going though.

Spreading your legs and holding them open with his knees he slides his fingers over your folds, getting a grasp for how wet you were for him.

The more he teased the more you squirmed under him, small begs passing through your lips. Begging for him to hurry up.

"Taishiro, please stop teasing me I cant wait anymore~"

He only smiles in response, placing his cock at your entrance. Having done this just a week ago he was more than ready to plunge into the depth. Slowly thrusting into you allowing you to adjust.

You whine out his name, back slightly arching off the bed in ecstasy. Clenching around him your eyes clouded with list at the sensual yet familiar feeling of him filling you up.

He thrusts harder, finding a sweet rhythmatic pace that made the both of you feel good. Not too fast, but not too slow either. The perfect momentum between the two of you.

Leaning down to kiss you, he finds himself smiling like a little kid, happier than ever to be with you in this moment.

"'m close baby, where do you want my cum?"

"Anywhere, I dont care."

Satisfied with that response he thrusts into you a few more times before pulling out and letting his cum cover your lower abdomen.

"I told you I loved you babe, is that enough to prove it?"

"More than I could have ever asked for."

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #masterlist #bokuno #fatgum #Taishiro #taishiro toyomitsu #Toyomitsu #x reader #smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha angst #mha angst #fatgum x reader #fatgum x y/n #fatgum smut #i hope you like this

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

70 George Weasley headcanons in celebration of 700 followers!

A/N: I hate to repeat myself but I do still love and appreciate all 700 of you! Thank you for reading my stuff and here’s to 700 more! <3 

Find the 70 Fred Headcanons: Here 

George is well known to be the brains behind the twins’ operations. He sorted out finding the location for the shop in Diagon Alley, he came up with most of the names for their products, even if Fred came up with the idea for the product itself, and for the longest time, he was the one who sorted out sales and orders for stocking their wares as well as overseeing the owl post-service while Fred sorted the more practical parts.

It might sound crazy, but if you ask George, he didn’t actually like Fred very much until they were about eight or nine years old. George was a lot more quiet and emotional than Fred and frankly, probably feared his mother more than his twin, and so George always thought Fred was too brash for his liking. Eventually, as we know, Fred’s crazy ideas rubbed off on George, and he started liking his twin more and more until they became the inseparable duo we know and love today. Mostly this was because the two found out how well they complimented each other, which meant that whatever they got up to turned out a lot better than when they’d attempt the same alone. 

Fred added an extra oomph to their escapades, daring to aim just a little higher, and George was sensible enough to make sure that a little higher wasn’t too high. 

It’s only their older siblings who noticed this change and remember the times where Fred and George didn’t get along as well as they did, which is why Bill, Charlie and Percy tend to treat the twins more as individuals whereas Ginny and Ron are more likely to see them as a duo. 

Since George is more sentimental, he’s also the bigger worrier. Did they like that joke? Did that prank go too far? Is this worth it and what are we going to do if it isn’t? He’s usually also the twin who’s more likely to step back and apologise to anyone they’ve pranked or teased, not liking the idea of upsetting someone.  

This also means he’s incredibly considerate concerning relationships, he’s not afraid to voice his concerns and worries. If his s/o is struggling with something, he notices, worries and tries his best to support them. 

Essentially, if their s/o is upset: Fred is more likely to make a joke to make them laugh and take their mind off it, George is more likely to take them aside and talk to them about it, letting them let their feelings out for as long as they need, he’ll listen for hours if that’s what his s/o needs. 

Speaking of letting feelings out: It’s been pondered if the reason George is the better beater, despite Fred being the more brash and extreme of the two, is because he uses the quidditch pitch as an outlet for his aggression and considering his anger doesn’t just involve beating bludgers but also resorting to elbowing people in the face (or beating Malfoy up) I’d say that this is incredibly true for him. Most people share the opinion that if something angers George, he’d let it build up until he explodes (myself included) and playing quidditch is a good way to let off steam without it being directed at anyone in particular, making him extremely violent on the pitch, though after every game he plays, he’ll probably be in his most zen and relaxed state of mind.

I do also like the idea of George being very emotionally mature in the sense that he knows how his feelings tend to build up, and since George is also a worrier, he probably doesn’t like the side of him that explodes in people’s faces and yells until he’s done being angry, so: He does try to confront his feelings as soon as he feels them so they don’t get a hold on him. If he’s angry with you, he’ll tell you, if he’s upset because of something that’s happened he’ll tell you. If he doesn’t and seems all quiet and broody (cause he’s not a saint and sometimes he doesn’t confess his feelings) then it’s probably a good idea that you ask him about it. 

George is also not afraid to cry, or at least he’s not as afraid to show it as Fred. He actually cried quite often as a small child, as Fred will happily remind him. The only times George will hold his tears back is when he doesn’t want to make the people he loves the most worry, like when he lost his ear. 

He was so close to crying he thought his throat would split open but he kept it in while his parents and Fred were there; he couldn’t bear to worry his mother more. Not to mention Fred for that matter. Instead, he waited until he was allowed to take a shower and let it out as quietly as he could, though little did he know Fred was standing guard on the other side of the bathroom door, crying as well. 

George doesn’t want a lot of children, he’s so used to the large family dynamic. It’s not that he disliked having many siblings but he’d prefer to have a few kids, three at most and be able to spoil them rotten. 

George has only broken one bone. It was his collarbone from a bludger. Besides that, he has dislocated his arm once due to hitting a bludger too forcefully from a wrong angle and sprained his ankle from landing too quickly more times than he can count. He’s also been concussed from taking bludgers to the head twice. 

George is actually a bit of a neat-freak. He likes having things in order and in the right place so he doesn’t lose track of things. He can’t put too many things in cupboards because if he can’t see them he’ll forget he has them and buy more and more (cause ADHD, baby), so instead he keeps things where he can see them, though in racks and specific orders which Fred often messes up.

Generally, once they moved out, George was better at doing the housework and he didn’t mind at all. Doing all the housework means it gets done the way he wants it done. 

His favourite season is winter and his favourite holiday is Christmas because it’s “a time for family”. 

George prefers Molly over Arthur (though it’s a tough pick), and he especially loves spoiling her once the shop takes off. He’ll buy her gifts often and always writes to remind her how much he (and Fred) appreciate her. 

He’d never admit it but he also does this as a way of proving himself to her. It really hurt him in those years where Molly would disapprove of his and Fred’s plans and even when he found success he still grappled with the feeling of his mother not being proud of him, despite her telling him that several times. All this just added to his disliking of Percy when he was at his going through his insensitive-git-phase.  

 George’s favourite time of day is the evening. When everything’s quiet and still he can concentrate better. He wrote most of his essays and came up with most products for the shop during this time. 

George loves intimacy. He’s not big on PDA. Cuddling alone together, being all tangled up in each other and having whispered conversations when everyone else is asleep are more his thing. 

He does love being close to you in public though, he’ll sit next to you, hold your hand, have an arm around you, lean his head on yours, bump his knee against yours under the table if you’re in a lesson or at a meal together. Small yet intimate touches are George’s romantic love language. 

George’s favourite sweet is chocolate. Anything with chocolate is good. If there’s caramel or coffee involved too then even better, mint is also accepted (his favourite flavour of ice cream is mint chocolate chip and he will fight you on why it’s the superior ice cream flavour) 

George prefers tea over coffee and drinks AT LEAST two cups a day but can easily have up to four or five depending on how long his day is. 

George takes a lot of naps. He’d occasionally nap at Hogwarts, like most students. He really started after he lost his ear because Molly kept fussing over him and forcing him to go lay down and rest, then it became even more of a regular thing after the battle of Hogwarts when he’d stay with Fred at st. Mungo’s, while he got better, and then when Fred forced him to go back to work because “sitting here, is not going to make my leg work, now go make us some galleons you git!” he’d work the shop mostly by himself, well, actually completely by himself beside his employees, which was still a small team at the time and he’d often just have to excuse himself to go upstairs and take 30 minutes to nap before he’d pass out from exhaustion. 

George struggles with some sensory problems since losing his ear, he gets a faint ringing sound in his ear every now and then, and though he can hear out of his missing ear, it’s less than his other one and he struggles determining where sounds are coming from which is distracting sometimes. He also got a bit of vertigo every now and then as well as some nausea for the first few years after he lost the ear, it got better and better and today it barely bugs him, though he gets dizzy easily.

On the subject of the ear: George enjoyed telling his nieces and nephews (and heck his own kids too) these wild stories of how he lost his ear: he paid it as a toll to an ancient spirit to gain superpowers, it froze off on a particularly cold camping trip with their uncle Fred, a bludger blew it right off, he was possessed by the spirit of van Gogh…. the list goes on. 

George was also slightly self-conscious of his ear for a while, he often worried if people were grossed out by it, though with time he forgot about it more and more until he hardly noticed it himself. Now he doesn’t notice if others notice and frankly, he couldn’t care less if they do.

Fred and George mention in OOTP that they took turns testing products, George tested puking pastilles and ended up taking several days off because of what Madam Pomfrey thought was a bad case of the stomach flu, nosebleed nougat (he said himself how it kept bleeding and at that point he let Fred do more testing because Madam Pomfrey was starting to get wayyy to suspicious of him having some terrible disease that was thought to be long gone) and fever fudge though Fred also tried that one. 

George takes after his mother as a parent, his platonic love language is definitely cooking for his kids, making them hot cocoa and baking with them during Christmas breaks. 

Does he fuss over his kids as Molly does? Noo, absolutely not no. no way. no. no. (yes)  

George’s boggart is being left alone. 

Despite that, he hates it when people assume that he and Fred are interchangeable and incapable of being without each other. He loves his friendship with Fred, he’s very happy to be his twin but he’s still his own person and it would be nice to be seen as such and not just “one of the Weasley twins” 

Mostly his hatred of being seen as “one of the Weasley twins” stems from the fact that people always assume Fred first, meaning George has been mistakenly called Fred more times than he can count. 

George is very timid, to begin with, in any relationships because he’s worried his s/o wants him to be like Fred, and that they don’t really care about him as a person but see him more as an asset or “the next best thing to Fred” Which is also why he’d never marry Angelina after she’d dated Fred, even if it was just for a while. 

George spent his first salary from the shop on a gift for his mother, a necklace, and a mixed bag of sweets from Sugarplums'...He knows it’s stupid but he just wanted to buy as much candy as he wanted without feeling guilty about spending money for once. 

George is not squeamish what so ever. He has got a stomach of steel. It’s almost kind of freaky how unfaced he is but then again, he did invent and test puking pastilles and a product called you-no-poo, so he’s seen a lot.

George’s favourite dates are movie nights and going for ice cream. 

George (and Fred) regularly attends quidditch matches, they also love to go back to Hogwarts to watch their kids play (you know at least one of their kids would be into it, considering the Weasley’s history with the sport) and they always yell out their support v e r y loudly. 

George really likes wine. The older he gets he appreciates it more and enjoys talking about it without any knowledge on it at business dinners, he’s impressed quite a few potential clients and business partners by giving them a long tirade about wine, without a single thing of it being necessarily true. 

George (+Fred and Lee, lol) experimented with eyeliner for a short while, they stopped because it was quote-unquote: “too much work” which made a lot of their female friends roll their eyes because, oh you’ve no idea, do you, Weasley?

I mean someone had to test the wonderwitch products, right?

George is a very light sleeper, and since Fred is anything but that- what with his sleepwalking and tossing and turning- George rarely got a lot of sleep, meaning there’s a large percentage of his detentions in school that were solely from “inattentiveness” aka “falling asleep in class.” 

George always thought that if he really really couldn’t work with the joke shop, he’d be a healer. He doesn’t know if he’d be any good at it but it’s a nice thought and he does have a caring gene from his mother. 

George’s first sign of magic was when he was a year old. He summoned a blanket into his crib, so it wasn’t much. His first noticeable thing he did was three years later by blasting Fred off him when they were play-wrestling, he basically shocked him with a defensive charge which sent Fred flying onto his back. Fred’s reaction was sitting up, looking shocked, rubbing his head and then whispering: “cool!” They spent days trying to recreate it but to no avail. The story of the event has been greatly exaggerated by both Fred and George to their nieces and nephews. 

They still joke that George has a secret superpower that can only be unlocked by play-wrestling him. 

As George gets older, he requires glasses like his father, though mostly for reading and sometimes for working on products. 

George’s favourite genre of music is soft rock, he’ll belt out an 80’s power ballad any day (and preferably while cooking) 

Oh, cooking. George gets super into cooking and baking after the twins move out, he tries his best to recreate his mother’s recipes and is still to this day attempting to perfect her cornish pasty (a personal favourite of his) and every Christmas, George and Molly practically never leave the kitchen in the burrow, as George desperately tries to learn everything he can. 

George is the godparent of all Fred’s kids as well as Albus, Dominique and Lucy. 

George buys the best gifts, I’ve already touched on this, but he has a weird ability to get you not only what you wish for but what you really need. 

Also, his gift wrapping skills are out of this world (his kids + nieces and nephews will never not receive those gifts that are wrapped in like 100 layers of paper)

George loves pet names, he loves the overly sweet, cliché ones and the simple, common ones. His favourite to call his s/o is darling, sweetheart and, weirdly, pumpernickel (he just thinks it’s a funny word).

George’s favourite dates he’d take his s/o on is: museum dates, cooking for them at home, picnics and going to the beach. 

George actually kind of liked the Hogwarts uniform. It was easy to keep track of and it meant he could spend minimum time in hand-me-downs that rarely fit perfectly. 

George would love to have (and probably has already got) a dog, he doesn’t care what size or breed (but personally I can see him getting on well with a cavalier or a Stabyhoun) 

George (also) has a small size kink: He loves wrapping his arms around his s/o from behind, enveloping them in his jacket when it’s cold and resting his head on top of theirs. 

George is either full of energy and wants to do five things at once or wants nothing more than to lay flat on the nearest soft surface he can find and watch movies until he falls asleep. 

He often takes his s/o on random adventures, he does it as a way to escape boredom or if he’s lost his inspiration. He finds it helps to come up with new ideas if you throw yourself off your rhythm (if you get it you get it) by doing something random you don’t normally do. 

George has big John Mulaney energy and if his s/o ever showed him his shows, he’d probably never stop quoting them. 

George’s favourite body parts on his s/o: Neck, hands, lips (and butt) (this is where it gets steamy just fyi) 

George is very respectful in bed, he’s the type to ask “are you ok?” and “is this ok?” a lot, at least the first couple of times he’s together with his s/o until he gets to know them better. 

George def. has a praise kink, he loves giving praise but he also loves feeling like he’s appreciated and loved and doing a good job, you know? 

We all know George has a thing for lace, we’re way beyond that at this point. Consider silk, though. He’d totally be into silk over the lace, it’s a light fabric, pretty and really easy to tear away…. *wink* 

George is surprisingly good at opening bras. 

Generally, he’s really good with his fingers…

He has a pretty dirty mind when it comes to sex but is also super embarrassed about it so he’d only admit his kinkier thoughts when he really trusts and knows his s/o. 

I think he’d be pretty two-sided in bed, he loves the intimate, sweet sex but also the rougher, tearing-your-lingerie-off-you sex. 

He prefers receiving more than giving oral but it is by such a small margin, he’ll happily give. 

He can only last one round (maybe two if you give him a long break) but he’ll absolutely make it count.

George’s fav position is missionary. As much as he likes trying other positions, he prefers the intimacy of missionary. Plus he thinks being able to see your face as you unravel under him is really hot. 

#700 follower celebration #george weasley #george weasley headcanon #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfic #hp headcanons #harry potter headcanon #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins headcanons #weasley twins #selfwriting-sugarquills 700 follower celebration

[santipietroepaolo]

Oh gosh I love your Suburra prompts! Could you please do 27 with Spadeliano? ❤️

27. "I'm not leaving"

[Read on Ao3]

“You look a mess, you know. You should go home, once in a while. ”

Aureliano’s voice was still very scratchy, but unlike when the breathing tube had just come out of his throat, at least it was working enough to be heard somewhat decently from all the way across the room. Spadino jerked his head up, startled at the sound, before letting out a disgruntled groan. Eyes closed and chin resting heavy in the crook of his palm, he had slowly been slouching further and further down in the usual armchair. Aureliano was pretty sure he would have fallen off the bloody thing, if he hadn’t decided to wake him.

“Look who’s talking,” Spadino grumbled as he sat up straighter, voice almost as coarse as Aureliano’s – albeit for different reasons, “Sorry to be the one to tell you, but you’re not exactly Prince Charming yourself, at the moment.”

Aureliano scoffed – then immediately regretted it, because the sutures on his chest did not like it when he did that.

“I’m serious, Albè,” he still tried again, hoping to camouflage his flinch of discomfort as a convincing enough frown, “How long has it been since the last time you were horizontal? Get out of here and go get some decent rest, before you faint on me.”

Albè. It still felt kind of weird to call Spadino that – almost too intimate. Ever since that night at the junkyard, however – the one Aureliano had, despite his own intentions, miraculously lived through –he simply found it impossible to go back to how things used to be. Alberto and him had gone way past the point of nicknames and other more-or-less sensitive monikers, he felt.

When you took half a dozen bullets for someone, and in the process got them so mad at you that you weren’t even sure you had a friendship left to salvage, the least you could do was call each other by name, right?

Alberto sighed, wiped a hand over his eyes, then gave his unshaven cheek a clumsy scratch. He really had a sorry look to him: his hair was un-styled and outgrown, his eyes reddened, his face pale under a decidedly unkempt scruff. He wore boring, plain work-out clothes, very unlike his usual flashy style. Oh my god, I’m so sorry, had been the man’s mocking reply, when Aureliano had first remarked on that fact, I wasn’t made aware there was a dressing code to follow, to be let in the King’s chambers. My very bad, your Highness.

Aureliano couldn’t help but worry about him, even tough he knew he was in no position to do such a thing. Whatever anguish made Alberto that way, Aureliano was behind it: Angelica’s very close call concerning her pregnancy, Manfredi’s death, their mother’s exile, the ongoing struggle for power left behind in the wake of it all. Sure, the four of them had won their battle, but theirs wasn’t the kind of warfare which had the courtesy to stop going just because someone needed a few months of beauty sleep after a close encounter with a firearm or five.

“Stop trying to tell me what to do,” Spadino said, stubborn, “I’m not leaving.”

Aureliano would have rebutted again, but unfortunately for him, he was already running out of energy, he could feel it. His days, ever since waking up, were pretty much all like this: a long, foggy, repetitive sequence of stumbling out of sleep and falling right back in it after only a few moments of relative consciousness. Dreaming to get back on his feet and feel useful again, but exhausted from the very act of keeping his eyes open and exchanging a few raspy words with whoever was in the room at the time.

Which was often Alberto, since he seemed to be there practically every available moment, despite his more than grumpy disposition towards Aureliano.

“I can’t sleep anywhere else, anyway,” Alberto quietly muttered, maybe thinking Aureliano was already too out of it to hear him, “Need to have your stupid face in my god-damn line of sight at all times, to do it. Otherwise I just-”

He stopped, sighed, shoved his face in both hands and rubbed hard at his eyes again. The edges of Aureliano’s vision were already going all white and melty: no matter how hard he fought it, he was high off his mind and could feel himself losing consciousness again. Aureliano slept so much that it felt like catching up on a lifetime of insomnia, while Alberto and the others were, well. Like that.

That struck him as extremely unfair.

“Get your ass over here.”

Aureliano’s voice had come out even flimsier, as his strength left him, but Alberto heard him anyway, because he raised his head, eyes wide with surprise.

“Come on,” Aureliano slurred out, frustrated, “Don’t make me say it again.”

Alberto seemed to hesitate for a second, before finally agreeing to do as he was told, for once. Still looking wary of Aureliano’s motivations, he walked over to the hospital bed, in the middle of the safe-house’s living room. Once Alberto was close enough, Aureliano grabbed the side of his ugly grey sweatpants and tugged on them to make him sit down on the chair right by the bedside. He felt infuriatingly weak, arm numb from both the intravenous tube sticking out the back of his wrist - and even moreso from the wide drain he still had stabbed into his upper ribcage. Maybe because he knew all of that, Alberto offered no resistance to that tug, letting himself be pulled down instead.

“C’mhere,” Aureliano whispered, taking advantage of that uncharacteristic sheepishness to drag Alberto even closer.

“Wait, Aurelià, that’s not safe for-”

Aureliano made a lazy sound that meant “shut up,” and kept at his plan. Alberto was right: he probably shouldn’t have anyone laying their head across his chest, on account of it being riddled with only recently-sealed bullet holes. But it didn't matter. His powerful cocktail of medication kept him from feeling pain, anyway. The only real issue Aureliano had with the arrangement was that he was already falling asleep far too fast to fully enjoy what was surely a delightfully grumpy look on Alberto’s face, now pressed up right against his bandaged sternum.

“How’s that for line of sight,” Aureliano mumbled, “At least you won’t completely break your back, this way.”

Alberto said nothing, probably too stunned to talk, and Aureliano let his eyes finally close. Man, he really was high. No way the hair on the side of Alberto’s head was really that soft, was it? A little mesmerized, Aureliano brushed it some more, dragging his thumb back and forth across the outgrown patch of it right above Alberto’s ear, which he used to keep so prim and shapely.

“Your heart’s beating so fast,” was all Alberto ended up saying after a while, his voice surprisingly quiet, “Is that normal?”

“I got shot,” Aureliano reminded him – as if he of all people needed the reminder, “Give the thing a break.”

He didn’t have any strength left in him for more than a whisper. Fortunately Alberto kept quiet, and Aureliano let himself sink right-back into the now-familiar oblivion of his drug-induced slumber.

That weird not-sleep had an advantage: it gave him a lot of time to think about a lot of things. Chiefly, what he had done, that night at the junkyard, and why he had done it – giving everything up, just to keep Spadino alive. Aureliano also thought about the talk – the long, difficult talk – he needed to have with Nadia, as soon as he was able. Judging by the sorrowful way she often looked at him, she had her own to have with him, as well. Something told Aureliano they might have been about the same topic.

As always, there was no way of telling how long he drifted off, but when he cracked his eyes open again, Aureliano could see that the light in the room had changed, and that Alberto was not only sound asleep, but also exactly in the same position he had left him.

His face was turned away from Aureliano, so all he had to watch were his neck and shoulders, rising and falling peacefully, for once. Alberto must have been really exhausted, not to care about people finding him that way. Aureliano himself couldn’t give a flying fuck, he realized: they paid that doctor more than enough to keep one more secret. And as for everyone else, well. Aureliano had come to a lot of conclusions, during his drug-addled meditations. The sooner everyone knew about those, frankly, the better, because he had no plans to hide more than strictly necessary.

You don’t take half a dozen bullets for a guy only to then be shy about confessing your feelings, as soon as you’re fit to at least stand to face him.

“How long are you going to stay mad at me?” Aureliano asked, but Alberto didn’t even flinch.

He was way too far gone to be able to hear him. Aureliano hazily wondered if the man was still listening to his heart-beat, in his dreams.

“You better get used to that,” Aureliano muttered, before resting his hand on top of Alberto’s on his chest, and letting his eyes close once again.

#suburra #suburra netflix #suburra la serie #aureliano adami #spadino anacleti #spadeliano #spadotto #suburra fic #by me #aaaaa thank you anon😍🥰🥰 #i'm really enjoying writig these in a very loose and relaxed way #suburra spoilers #one thing you have to know about me is that i fully intend to remain in denial of angelica losing the baby so here you go #another rubina lives au alkjhdaks

[blu-joons]

Dating Mark Tuan ~ GOT7 Headcanon

Getting Together:

He had been excited all night to walk over and introduce himself to you

His eyes had been on you since the moment you walked into the restaurant with your friends

With the help of boys, he introduced himself with the perfect line, complimented by his smile

It didn’t take long before you’d agreed to go on a date with him – what did you have to lose?

There was something about you that brought out a confident, louder side to him

You try to make him laugh as often as possible as you love the sound from the get-go

Very romantic but simple first date, he wants to keep the conversation flowing

A date night by the Han River was exactly what the two of you would enjoy, the scenery and the company

Tends to be quite handsy, he’s always touching against your leg or your shoulder

He’s not been on many first dates, but he knows he’s excelled himself with this one

Even the boys were very quick to notice just how happy he was to be dating you

Most nights he’ll ring you with Milo by his side just to check in on you

It’s impossible for you not to fall for him a little more knowing he has Milo too

It wasn’t long before your dates began to include Milo, adventuring more around the city with each other

Even his family were made aware of you pretty soon, mama tuan could tell very quickly that something had made her son very happy indeed

He was in no rush to make things official; he wanted to take his time and make sure you worked at a pace that was good for you

Your first kiss was something to never be forgotten, a few dates in Mark arranged a romantic night for it all

He’d decked his apartment out with plenty of things to make your evening cosy and homely

One night as the two of you finished a walk, he stopped you, taking a hold of your hand in his

Milo was barking to carry on walking, but for once, all his attention was on you

Instantly you knew that something was going on as you noticed the fear in his eyes

Feeling the squeeze of your hand in his gave him the confidence to finally say what he wanted to say

“I can’t really remember what my life was like before you came into it, which is why I felt like now would be the right time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

Seeing how nervous he was, you thought you’d play around with him, taking a while to respond

“I’d love to be yours Mark, and Milo’s of course, too.”

He brought you back to his place that night so the three of you could stay together

There’s was no way he was going to let you be alone on the night he’d finally made you his

His arms were firmly wrapped around you whilst Milo laid at the foot of the bed between you both

A lot of little kisses were shared that night as the excitable side of Mark came back out

Being In A Relationship:

Behind closed doors Mark was very affectionate and cuddly with you

He’d always be laughing when you were around, which would always make you chuckle too

Best of all he loved that finally the jokes had stopped with the boys that he was getting old and needed to settle down

Any day when he doesn’t get to see you, he rings you, that tradition never goes away

A lot of late nights, that’s when he likes to talk to you most about how he’s feeling

Usually these times are spent with his hands running through your hair, it always helps him to relax with you

Not many people expected it, but Mark is very romantic, he’s been brought up old school, the perfect gentleman

Whenever he’s writing he likes to have you with him for when he’s searching for that little bit of inspiration

It’s pretty clear to everyone that his soft raps are written about you and how you make him feel

But when it comes to talking openly, he’s a lot more reluctant, he likes to keep a lot of the two of you private

His tracksuits very quickly became sharable, you were always stealing his jumpers when he wasn’t wearing one

It’s often how fans notice you when you creep around his streams trying not to interrupt his games

Speaking of games, Mark gets a great deal of satisfaction out of teaching you how to game, sitting you down in his lap and showing you the controls

But don’t ever talk about the one time you beat him, to this day he refuses to acknowledge that it actually happened

Most of your nights can be found in his gaming room, where you’re often restricted to the sofa

You’ll always be a part of his family group chats; they want to see you in every single call

Even though you were yet to meet Mark’s family, you very quickly felt like you were a part of it

Cuddly sleepy Mark is also one of your favourite things, when he holds you tightly at night to keep you safe

He loves adventuring and finding thrill seeking activities so be prepared to do a lot of fun and wild things with him

Behind your back he’s always finding something fun for the two of you to do

The first time he took you to meet his family was an overwhelming experience, but luckily, they all quickly fell in love with you

Whenever he’s away on tour he’ll find ways for you to join him, or for him to go back home, even if it is for a couple of hours

And we know how quick he is to leave the studio so prepare for him coming home earlier than you expect him to most nights

His home is filled with lots of photos, to begin it was just his family, but now there are many of you too

He enjoyed watching his home to change to suit you more and become a place for the two of you

If you’re sick, he’ll have you at his home and laid in his bed until he decides that you’re better

If a day off of work is what it takes to get you better, then he’ll do it in a heartbeat

He’ll always be the one to drive you around, showing off that he’s got a tier 1 license

Most mornings it’s a mission to find your makeup bag as Mark loves to hide it and keep you natural, his favourite look on you

If he’s really bored, he’ll help you with your hair, curling, straightening, whatever you want him to do, he’ll give it a try

He can’t promise it will end well, but it’s the thought that counts right?

Whenever your name is brought up in an interview, he turns shy and coy leaving the boys to speak up for him

There’s not much that he shares, but he makes it clear to everyone he’s in love

So in love he decided to get you to help him pick out his next tattoo as he trusted your judgement

When the fans spotted it for the first time, they fell in love with you even more seeing how much you meant to Mark

He didn’t tell you often about the way he felt about you, but on those nights when he’d had a drink or two it was impossible to shut him up

It could be three in the morning, yet he’d still tell you how he’d never met someone like you

He’d always remind you how beautiful you were, especially when you least expected it

After a long day Mark always knew the way to cheer you up and make you smile

He’ll lay back and let you play with his hair whilst you talk off your problems

That was until Milo decided he needed your attention more than Mark did and started climbing all over you

He often calls you, ‘mummy,’ to Milo knowing there’s no chance you’ll be going anywhere

From the start he’s pretty transparent about the fact he can see a future with you

Slowly he stands back and happily watches his life revolve around you more and more

And he always makes sure to show you with actions and words how special you are

Affection/Skinship:

Prepare to cuddle Mark for most of your days to keep him at his happiest

Depending on his mood he’ll either be the big spoon or little spoon

In public he tends to just hold your hand so that he knows you’re still right by his side

If he’s feeling down or needy, he’ll sneak a few kisses to make sure you know that he wants attention

He’s a very attentive lover, he’s good at reading people and knowing what they want

Somehow, he always knows what you need and what can make you feel good

More often than not he’ll be the dominant one, but if you want to be dom, he’ll happily sub

If he’s feeling low or exhausted, he’ll happily let you be the one to put in most of the work

Don’t expect him to be too vocal in the bedroom, but he’ll always let you know when you’re hitting the right spot

He loves the intimacy of sex and holding your body as close to his as possible

Cuddly Mark peaks after sex, he refuses to let you go, even for just a few moments

He’ll often be much more vocal too, he’s full of praise and admiration for you

The two of you are equals when it comes to sex, both of you are happy to give and receive to keep each other happy

He’s very much a boob man though so prepare for his hands to often be around your chest

When he’s getting close, he’ll keep his hands against your cheeks so that he can kiss you through his high

He loves it when you play with his hair, especially when he’s working down on you

Whenever the two of you are intimate it’s a massive turn on for him to see the effect, he’s having on you

He likes to keep sex for the bedroom where the two of you are most vulnerable and romantic with each other

It’s a meaningful thing, don’t go expecting too many quickies, Mark enjoys taking his time with you

Arguments:

It’s well known that at times Mark can have quite the temper on him, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys arguing with you

He tries his hardest to keep himself calm and not kick off

As soon as the two of you argue he’s full of remorse, for some reason he just can’t stay mad at you

Time is a great healer for the two of you after an argument, giving each other plenty of space

Mark will usually be the one to step away first when he can feel him getting frustrated, so he doesn’t take too much out on you

But as soon as he comes back to you, he’s quick to apologise and work things through

He’s not great at being open with his feelings which is where most of your triggers lie as you try to figure out what he’s thinking

It’s something he works hard to improve upon to make your relationship a lot healthier, but it doesn’t mean it always happens

As the two of you worked through your argument did Mark finally tell you how he felt so that you could understand him

Yet it did take a lot for the two of you to start an argument as you were often so relaxed with each other

You’d been known to spend days apart during some of your biggest arguments to work things through

A lot of what was said would stick with Mark as he realised the terrible things, he said to you

Both of you knew what happened in the heat of the moment, and afterwards forgive each other

He’d never take his argument to work though, these were things privately that the two of you worked through

The boys knew he had a temper on him too, so when they sensed something had happened, they’d try and step in

The younger members would check on you, whilst the older members would talk to Mark about what was going on

Ultimately you knew it was his schedule that took the most out of him and made him struggle

Which was why you’d always spend time after an argument relaxing and calming yourselves down again

Your Relationship With The Boys:

 Just like Mark you were quite quiet around the boys at the start as you figured them out

But they very quickly warmed to you seeing how happy you made their eldest member

Jinyoung was the first member you grew close to as he’d often check on you and take care of you

Similarly, JB tried hard to bring you out of your shell and integrate you into the group

Yugyeom would always do the same, including you in all his jokes and pranks

Seeing how much time Milo and Coco spent together, you and Youngjae soon bonded over animals and your other interests

BamBam always made time for you too, if you wanted to meet for coffee or talk to a fresh face, he was always there

And finally, Jackson, as reluctant as he was to let Markson go, he knew you were the perfect replacement

They all made you feel so welcome and treated you as if you really were a part of Got7

Plus it gave them something new to tease Mark about, when he was going to put a ring on it 

The Future:

When it came to putting a ring on it Mark was in absolutely no rush

But one thing he did know was that he wanted his family and future to be with you

Already having his nieces he was desperate for kids, and seeing how well you bonded with them only made him more desperate for a family

As the group began to break and the Korean members started entering the military, Mark decided it would be the ideal time to settle down whilst work was less busy

But nothing important happened for the two of you until all seven members were together and able to bask in your love

No words could ever truly tell you how appreciative he was to have found you

Masterlist

#got7 #got7 imagine #mark tuan #mark tuan imagine #mark imagine #mark #got7 reaction #got7 scenarios #got7 scenario #got7 reactions #got7 drabble #got7 one shot #got7 fluff #mark tuan reaction #mark tuan scenario #mark tuan drabble #mark tuan fluff #kpop #kpop imagine #mark reaction #mark scenario

[misterewrites]

Secret Agent Bard (Welcome to the Underground!)

Hello everyone! E here with a new chapter of the underground! Woo! I hope you are all doing good and staying safe.

So I actually have more to say today! That's a trip. I’ll have an author’s note under the line. 

So that's it for now. Stay safe, take care of you and your loved ones, stay out of trouble, wash your hands, wear your mask, get vaccinated if you can and push to release the vaccine world wide cuz we're all in this together. Have a great week and thanks for reading. I appreciate it and feel free to tell your friends, reblog, drop likes and feedback i love it all. Bye for now and enjoy!

If you want an easier place to read the story cuz tumblr sucks sometimes here’s a link to the chapter https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/79541746

The First Chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/68094967

and since you made it this far here’s a link to all my stories!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

Byeeeeee!

Author’s note:  Today’s work will be a little different as there will be singing. The chapter with the bard is gonna have singing? Go figure haha So if you see a sentence in Italics, that means someone is singing. Bold and italics represents various people singing as a group. The song in question is called twiddles. There's different versions of it but the one I chose is from the misbehavin maidens. Great group but all their work ranges from innuendos to straight up not safe for work so listen at your peril. I have now completed my responsible adult duties haha. here’s a link to the chosen song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iS1-_fKF5ug

Summary: Oliver has quite the task ahead of him as the group splits to achieve their goals. Leading Sel and Flora, the young bard will have to think quick on his feet to ensure this mission is a success. Luckily he's an old hand at this. Ironically the one person who could distract him may make a surprise appearance tonight.

-----

Oliver stood quietly, arms crossed and his mind thoughtful as the group prepared to go their separate ways. While ideally nothing would go wrong, that was a childish belief: Every person and robotic being here knew safety was not guaranteed in their line of work.

Even the old man knew the risks.

Oliver hated doing nothing. He thrived when he was busy, focused on whatever task required his attention whether it be being a better bard or upholding the Choir’s values. Too many ghosts and regrets lingered on the edges of his mind and he found the best solution was to simply keep occupied.

But that was his coping mechanism, not everyone else. He knew better than to rush his team: The party would last at least another few hours and beside the goal of getting Sel to the third floor, there was nothing else to do. No information to gather, nothing to review. Let them have their moment, it was good for morale.

Terri and Flora were sickeningly adorable: Hands clasped tightly with Terri tearfully asking her girlfriend to not poison everyone. Flora gave a halfhearted promise while as they shared a tender kiss. Terri noticed her less than enthused tone but refused to press the matter further.

Tyrell stood awkwardly to the side, his face twisted in a strange mixture of sick and excited. He fidgeted with something in his pocket, seeking comfort from whatever lay within. Given the shape of the bulge and size, Oliver guessed it was a knife.

Sel stood nearby, motionless in the shadows of the alley. They hadn’t moved in some time though he suspected the automaton was simply waiting for the next phase of the plan.

“Alright” Oliver spoke up, his voice firm yet gentle “Times up. You have your assignments?”

Uneven murmuring responded.

“Let’s go.”

Oliver, Sel and Flora went down one end of the alley, Terri and Tyrell disappearing in the opposite direction.

-----

It didn’t take long for the trio to find the main streets of the Merchant Ward and make their way towards the Brambleoak banking office. The crowds weren’t as thick as they had been during the day but Oliver knew everyone out and about did so with a purpose.

“Bard.” Flora asked without warning, breaking the awkward silence “Question.”

“Answer.” Oliver cheekily replied.

Flora glared.

Oliver coughed “Yes?”

“You are a First Chair Soprano correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yet you are so young. How did you manage that? I thought First Chair ranks were only reserved for experienced or particularly skilled members. You don’t seem to be very magically powerful.”

Oliver paused for a moment, trying to best answer the question.

In a way Flora was correct in her assessment: He wasn’t particularly powerful as a spellcasting bard. Unlike Flora who clearly committed herself fully to nature and thus druidic magic, Oliver had only recently thrown himself into the magical arts.

Unless you were a wizard who studied the secrets of the universe with a very intimate and well versed knowledge of magic, most spellcasters drew their power from sources of existence: Clerics from their gods, Druids from nature, Warlocks from something beyond mortal existence yet not quite a deity, sorcerers because a family member fucked around with pure incomprehensible concepts. Magic was the fabric of the universe and the more you threw yourself into a source of power, the more the source threw itself into you, guiding your hand and your spells.

Of course each, wizards exempt, were limited in their spellcasting options. Clerics were powerful holy/unholy practitioners but couldn’t command plant life to save their lives. Druids were in tune with nature and the weather and all the lovely flora and fauna but ask them to superimpose an image onto something and they’d give you a dumbfounded look. Warlocks kinda just do whatever their sugar patrons felt like lending.

Magic bards drew their power from the arts: Drawing, singing, poetry, even witty and funny satire. Bards were in tune with life, with existence. Art could heal, could hurt, could make you feel happy and sad. It could make you feel like a whole new person or perhaps take you to a time and place you’d forgotten. Bards sung the song of life and Oliver was no exception.

However, Oliver still wasn’t sure what he could do exactly. His magical muscle was average on a good day and he could only cast a few spells before needing a good night’s rest. The basic healing spells and comprehension language he cast earlier today had taken a good chunk of his energy but he relied more on his wit than raw magical strength. He discovered creative and useful ways to cast his spells like amplifying dissonance noises to distract and disorient foes or temporarily place another person’s image over himself. Magic was as much about creativity as it was skill, pushing the limits of what you can do with your particular brand of spells.

“I’m clever.” Oliver answered honestly “The whole magic of the arts is new to me but I’ve been in the Choir for a long time now. I used to be Tenor like Sel here but more fast talking than breaking and entering. I guess they carried over my old position into my new one.”

Flora nodded, satisfied “That answers much. How long have you been a bard?”

“Few years now.” Oliver checked the street sign to ensure they were on the right path “The magic part is going on 3 years.”

“I see.” Flora scratched her chin “I’ve been a druid my whole life so it is a strange concept to be so new to the spellcasting arts yet hold such a high rank.”

Oliver gave a casual shrug “Not sure what you want me to say. We’re here by the way.”

The bank looked as unkempt as Oliver had remembered: Faded, peeling green paint with gaudy gray stone pillars. Two guards in green uniforms stood in front of the massive reddish brown doors that led into the bank.

“Lea’s mercenaries.” Sel pointed out “They are not letting anyone in.”

“Correction.” Oliver brushed off nonexistent dirt from his washed-out outfit “They’re not letting nobodies in. Luckily tonight we’re somebodies. Follow my lead.”

Oliver let out a tense breathe before strolling forward, his mannerism cocky yet unsteady. He reached the top of the steps when two sharp looking blades reached out to stop him.

“Halt” The elvish woman spoke with a hint of irritation “You lost?”

“Not at all!” Oliver beamed with a smile that was too wide to be natural “I’m here for the party. There is a party inside no?”

“No” The human man spat out.

Oliver gave a forgetful grin “Oh? I could’ve sworn Brambleoak was having some sort of charity event tonight. I’d show you my invite but I think I misplaced it.”

The elvish woman sneered “Right. How convenient for you having lost your special one of a kind invite.”

“Pfft.” Oliver scoffed “Special one of a kind invite? Reiner hands them out like candy. Probably find one in a gutter nearby.”

The guards shared an unspoken understanding with one another.

“Well.” The human began “Let’s pretend that is true.”

“It is but go on.”

The human’s eyes narrowed “Why should we let you in? You dress rather poorly for someone claiming to be in Reiner’s usual circles.”

Oliver let out an exaggerated gasp as he puffed out his chest “Do you know who I am?”

“Umm no.”

Oliver growled unhappily, his fist clenched tightly within his pocket “I am rich! I AM POWERFUL! AND I DEMAND ACCESS!”

As quick as lightning, Oliver flung a handful of gold coins towards the pair. The two reeled back in surprised as the money clanked onto the smooth marble floor. A moment hardly passed before the guards were shoving the loose coins into their tunic pockets like hungry dogs. They straightened up, eyes alive with greed.

“Of course sir” The elvish woman bowed her head in apologize “Deeply sorry for that.”

“Please go ahead.”

Oliver gave a self satisfied nod before moving past the pair only to stop as he heard the sounds of swords scraping each other. He turned backwards to see the guards barring access to Flora and Sel.

Flora looked back and forth between the guards, her eyes calculating and cold. Sel stood still but clearly at the ready for any sort of trouble.

“They’re with me.”

The Elvish woman shook her head “We said we’d let you in. These two? Definitely not Reiner’s usual prey.”

“They aren’t” Oliver admitted “But I need them.”

The human turned to him, suspicion in his eyes “Why?”

“She…” Oliver pointed lazily towards Flora “Is my street doctor.”

“Street doctor? As in….?”

Oliver gave a cheery wink “The fun kind.” And for give measure, he added a weak shiver to his act “Ugggggh I feel cold, are you cold? It’s cold.”

Before anyone could say anything, Oliver began shaking. He rubbed his hands for ‘warmth’ while swaying back and forth.

“Uh oh.” Flora spoke dully, pushing past the guards and holding Oliver steady “He’s crashing. I need to give him his umm medicine.”

“Medicine?” Oliver repeated, his voice soft yet manic “Yes medicine. I need it. I NEED IT!”

Folks began to turn their way, the guards shifting uncomfortably under the sudden attention they were receiving.

“And this one?” The Elvish woman gestured to Sel.

Oliver began to rock back and forth, his voice a harsh whisper. “Guard. Guard. Guard guard guard guard.”

The human threw up his hands in defeat “Bah! Get him in there and fixed! Any trouble and I’ll personally come over to beat your asses.”

“Thank you sir.” Flora murmured through gritted teeth. She guided Oliver and Sel through the doors and into the party within.

Flora sighed as Sel cracked the tension out of their fingers. Oliver straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow.

True to his expectations, the bank had been altered to be suitable for a charity event: Torches lined the walls, casting the building into a bright light. The desks normally found on the floor were gone as to allow a more spacious setting. Oliver counted a handful of guards scattered about, wandering about for any sign of trouble. All except for the lone guard beyond the empty elevated platform who stood in front of the stairway to the upper floors.

“What now?” Flora asked

“Split up. Sel stay close to the door, Flora and I will figure out a distraction.”

“Sounds good.”

And without another word, Oliver was swallowed whole into the crowd.

-----

It had taken an hour for Oliver to figure out what kind of distraction he would need.

The patrols themselves hadn’t been very difficult to plan for: They would move randomly about, keeping an eye on the party and each other. He counted about 6 of them total and each one of them was easily starstruck. At the sign of any disagreement, they would swarm in groups of three and quickly threaten any troublemakers into compliance. However, upon meeting anyone with even the smallest bit of fame, they would subtly motion to each other and make their way as one to the person in question, hoping for a glance or the chance for an autograph.

So the floor guards were no problem but the one standing watch over the door was much more difficult. Evidently Lea was smart enough to give the most important job to the most responsible of his idiots. The stairway guard or Stairy as Oliver labeled him, would not budge at the sign of any trouble. Loud arguments, agitated party goers, a waiter being tripped (sorry it was for science buddy). None of these would pull him from his post. Celebrities wouldn’t either. Any time his buddies motioned to a famous person, he would shrug his shoulders and stay put.

Oliver was beginning to wonder if Flora needed to poison Stairy until he noticed something about half way into his observations: Stairy was a music lover. Specifically a cute girl music lover.

His gaze would wander every time he caught sight of a pretty girl who happened to be too close to him. Oliver wasn’t sure at first so he decided to test his theory. With his pocket change lessened, Oliver noticed how often a girl would catch Stairy’s eye. His attention didn’t shift when they fell in front of him, obviously in distress, or walked slower allowing him to enjoy the view longer but Oliver caught him smiling and tapping his foot when the odd girl would sing. He even staggered away from his door a few steps at a time before catching himself and returning to his post.

So the best distraction would be a girl who could sing and have some level of fame attached to her name.

Oddly specific and Oliver hadn’t the slightest idea how he was going to mange that. He was attempting to solve this puzzle when something caught his ear.

“Get off me you mulched dirt licker!”

That rather unique set of cursing could only mean one thing: Flora.

Oliver turned to where he last spotted her and found the young druid being hassled by a tall man in an elegant uniform.

Oliver noticed the guards were looking about, not yet spotting the commutation but aware something was going on. He needed to act first if he wanted to stop Flora deciding to kill everyone in the room.

The bard quickly slipped into the crowd, darting and weaving between any and everyone he could. He saw Flora slip a small vial into her hand as the man towered over her.

“I jus wanna dance.” the man’s words slurred out of his mouth “A pretty thing like yo shou wanna dance”

Flora’s eyes narrowed angrily “For the last time you dried poop stain, LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Flora pulled back her hand, prepared to throw the mysterious vial at the drunk’s face.

“Whoa!” Oliver cried out, tightly grasping onto Flora’s wrist “What seems to be the problem?”

“Nothing I can’t solve on my own.” Flora coldly glanced towards the drunken man.

“One sec.”

Oliver eyed the man carefully, absorbing every little detail he could.

He could see the muscles strain against the fabric of his light green tunic so this man worked in something physically laborious. The sheathed sword on his belt weight seemed to throw him off balance with every step. His gaze was unsteady and Oliver could see his pupils dilating wildly.

So this man was physically fit, armed with a sword in a charity event for the rich people and wearing light green tunic while currently drunk.

“You should leave her alone” Oliver said, sarcasm dipping from each word “You are so not her type.”

“So?” The man hiccupped “What’s the big deal?”

“So she’s got a girlfriend you idiot.” Oliver gestured with his hand “Besides you should go before your boss Lea gets here. I’m betting he won’t be happy one of his undercover mercs is currently drunk on the job. Of course I could always tell your captain what’s going on. That’s him over there right?”

Oliver gestured to the closest guard making his way towards the trio. He didn’t look any different than any guards but Oliver noticed his green was a shade darker than the rest. Lea probably used different hues to signify rank in his mercenaries.

The drunk’s face paled as he fidgeted nervously. He rose his hands in surrender, eyes darting between the two “Sorry.”

“Any trouble?” The captain approached, his hand tightly held around the hilt of his blade.

Oliver beaned cheerfully, trying his best to pull attention away from the fuming Flora “Not at all my good sir. This man simply mistook us for someone else, correct?”

The drunk nodded slowly “My bad. Forgive my intrusion.”

The captain gave a cold smirk “Apologizes. Mikey?”

The drunk flinched “Yes sir?”

“A word in private. Now.”

Oliver let out a sigh of relief as the captain dragged Mikey away..

“You should’ve let me poison them.” Flora muttered darkly.

Oliver scratched the back of his neck tiredly “Night’s still young. Still might get your chance if I can’t figure a way past Stairy.”

Flora tilted her head quizzically “Stairy?”

“The asshole at the base of the stairs.” Oliver answered absentmindedly as he spotted a familiar streak of platinum blonde hair among the crowd of strangers “And I just figured it out. Can I trust you not to poison everyone here?”

“You have an hour. I get bored easily” Flora swirled the sickly purple liquid in the vial threateningly.

“You and me both.” Oliver patted her shoulder before chasing down his perfect distraction.

-----

Oliver’s heart began to thunder loudly in his ears, a nervous and uncontrollable energy overtaking his resolve. The mission was important but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to see Maria today.

Maria Thoreau was the daughter of a powerful, influential family. The Thoreau’s were more concerned with their standing in high society than any virtuous endeavors and thus each one of their children was trained from birth to excel in their chosen field. Maria’s older brothers were an aspiring politician and merchant respectively.

Maria’s path was to be a well famous singer and patron of the arts. She wanted nothing more than to sing for the people. Unfortunately, her father only saw a chance to further the family’s good name and tied his desire for power with her passion and dream. It was bittersweet really but nothing much could be done about it.

Yet.

Maria knew Oliver as a musical rival who thwarted her group’s attempts at winning local competitions which in turned derailed her father’s plans. So needless to say she was less than thrilled when she caught him making his way over.

“Ollie” she forced a smile while her hazel eyes narrowed, peeved “I’m surprised to see they let you into this exclusive event.”

Oliver gave a cocky shrug “Well your beauty caught my attention and I couldn’t resist trying to figure out a way in.”

Maria’s cheeks burned a pinkish hue.

Maria was the same age as Oliver with short, tastefully cut dark brown hair. A single streak of platinum blonde hair hung off the side of her face, giving her such a cute look. Her clothes were practical tonight since she wasn’t performing: A simple white blouse with a long flowing dark blue skirt that went all the way down to her feet. Her shoes were sensible dark blue flats designed for comfort over style.

Maria coughed into her hand, willing her blush away.

“So.” She cleared her throat “Is this your sad attempt to throw me off my game? You won’t win the next competition. We’ll be dealing with professional judges this time.”

Oliver’s eyes widen in false surprise “There’s a competition here? Fancy that. I hadn’t been made aware of that but since we’re both in town, why not have a round two?”

“Oliver….”

“I mean” Oliver went on, pretending not have heard “You are a much better singer solo than with those harpies you’re forced to keep around.”

Maria glanced to the side timidly “Don’t be absurd, the Melodic Maidens are a perfect, well oiled machine.”

Oliver scoffed dismissively “I suppose they’re nearby, listening in. Hardly leave you alone, don’t they?”

Maria opened her mouth to respond when a shrilly voice cut in.

“What do you know you two bit hack? How much did you bribe the judges last time?!”

Oliver gave a strained smile as the rest of the ladies forced their way into view.

“Lilly, Filly, Sally. You suck.”

The triplets snarled in unison, openly glaring at the bard.

Lilly, Filly and Sally were Maria’s chains: They were as much there to further her career as they were to report back to daddy to ensure the errant daughter stayed on course.

As triplets, they all shared the same features: Three pairs of dull green eyes and long messy black hair. Even their clothing were the same with each wearing a strapless dress that showed way too much skin and skirts that were way too short. The only reason Oliver could tell them apart was due to their preferred colors: Lilly in a shade of pink that was bright for her skin tone, Filly with a pale ugly yellow and Sally in seas of dark red.

The trio surrounded Maria, their arms embracing her in an uncomfortable hug. Maria bit her lip, trying to hide her uneasy.

“Still wearing that tacky outfit huh Ollie?” Lilly eyed his faded clothing distastefully.

Sally let out an unfriendly laugh “Ollie always looks like trash. Not even prize money could buy an ounce of class.”

“Actually” Oliver brushed his shoulder dismissively “Class is cheap. No amount of money could buy an ounce of character. You can blow hot air at me all you want but nothing in this world could ever change the fact that the three of you are bitches.”

The trio clicked their tongues disappointingly, their normally plain faces twisted into unflattering visages of rage while they screamed as one.

“HOW DARE YOU INSULT US?!”

“YOU ARE SUCH A POOR TACTLESS MAN!”

“YOU FUCKER!”

Oliver casually waved his hand “All bark and no bite. I’m supposed believe you’ve gotten any better in two months? Last time I checked I won the last competition.”

“OH YEAH?!” The triplets yelled, furious.

Maria threw a suspicious glance Oliver’s way “Girls, I don’t think…”

“Come on Maria, we don’t want to have to tell daddy you backed down from a challenge.”

A shiver ran down her spine, the fight draining out of her face. Oliver felt a tinge of guilt but said nothing as the girls took their positions.

Maria paused for a moment, her breathing slow and calm. The murmur of the crowds grew louder and louder upon the recognition that the ladies nearby were the Melodic Maidens.

Maria pivoted on her heels, a bright warm smile gracing her lips. Oliver could feel his heart skip a beat at the sound of her soft, airy voice beginning to sing

“Oh you hear a lot of stories about the sailors and their sport” Maria gave a playful wink his way. His cheeks burned brightly at her playful banter.

“About how every sailor has a girl in every port”

Maria twirled, her steps mischievous and alluring as her dark blue dress chased after her. She gracefully held two fingers aloft for everything to see, her smirk cocky and assured.

“but if you added two and two you’d figure out right quick”

Maria backed up as the triplets step forward to join her, the group made whole and ready for the chorus.

“It’s just because the girls all have a lad on every ship”

Maria turned to throw a sultry look towards her rival bard but instead of finding a dumbstruck Oliver, she found a smiling one. His gaze was gentle and loving as if he was seeing utterly beautiful. A small smile was tugging at his cheeks. Maria could feel her heart thunder in her ears as, without warning, Oliver gave a thumbs up and mouthed an appreciative “Thanks” before ducking into the growing crowd.

“And it’s twiddley idle idle idle, twiddley idle aye.”

What was once a spattering of folks formed into a massive gathering. Most of the party goers and guards had come over to catch the free show the girls inadvertently given and thus all focus shifted onto them. What was an attempt to show up Oliver ended up being a very unnecessary showcase.

“It’s often times a man will leave you broken with dismay”

Boy was Maria feeling that dismay right now.

-----

Oliver’s plan worked: Stairy hadn’t been to resist the siren call of a beautiful woman and her singing. Luckily the harpies hadn’t ruined it with their imperfect pitches. Stairy hadn’t taken more than a few steps when Sel slipped in behind and began working at the door. It took a moment but one blink later and the automaton vanished out of sight.

Oliver let out a sigh when a hand gripped his shoulder tightly.

“Hello sir.” A guff, low voice in a less than friendly voice “Might I have a word? You’ve been acting rather strange all party long.”

Well fuck.

#Welcome to the Underground #My Story #Original Work #original story