#I'm forgetting their name atm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ponderingmoonlight · 9 months ago

Note

Imma be an anon cause I'm bit scared . I fell in love with the way u write.

May I get a Headcanon with nanami if you're comfortable 🥺

A hurt /comfort where NANAMI raised his voice at reader which lead reader to distance him for a long period?

You can go anything with the plot . Thank you!

Hey honey, I'm not writing headcanons atm because I'm not comfortable with, but I decided to turn this into a full on fic instead - hope you like it, let me know! ♡

Nanami Kento raising his voice at you

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: He had no other choice but to scream at you in the middle of a fight, snapping at you like he never did before. It took both of you a few weeks to realize that you can't be with each other...

Warnings: Listen, I adore the gentleman Nanami fics (as you can see on my own blog lol) but it was so much fun to let this man snap as well, to let his temper show once, this is a classy hurt to comfort with some angst - enjoy!

„Don’t do it, (y/n). You’ll get yourself in serious danger. Stay behind me and let me handle this.”

You huff in sheer frustration, eyes piercing through the back of his perfect undercut. Why? Why isn’t Kento Nanami able to trust you? You are a grade 1 sorcerer just like he is, so skilful with handling your sword that even Gojo is impressed by your abilities. But despite all of that, he positioned himself in front of you instantly when that special grade curse appeared, blocking every minor attack that might come your way.

Oh, how much you love that man, how much you adore the way he cares about you deeply. It’s not a secret to anyone how you feel for each other, how your eyes light up when he enters the room, how his gaze instantly softens for only you.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle this myself.”

But this is too much. Damn, you’ve been a jujutsu sorcerer as long as he is, constantly training to get better and better. It’s not fair to lock you out of this fight when your-

“Stop contradicting me all the time!”

The sharp tone in his usual calm voice makes you flinch, body moving backwards automatically when he turns around. His eyes are cold, so cold that your blood seems to freeze in your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, especially not when it comes to you. That sweet and tender man with a face that doesn’t show any emotion most of the time now looks down at you with venom spitting from his orbs, arms so tight that his veins look like they’ll burst any minute.

“This is too big for you. Now do me a favour and stay.in.line.”

“But I’m-“

“ENOUGH!”

“Kento!”

“You are acting like a stupid child! Now do what I said!”

You are lost at words, eyes staring into his furious ones until he turns around and hunts after the blue-haired curse named Mahito again.

A wave of agony washes over you before you can stop it, body feeling numb. It’s ridiculous to be hurt about his words, surely he didn’t mean to raise his voice at you, but still…

You swallow hard. But still it fucking hurts. Since you’ve known him, Kento never snapped at you. Not once, not in a million lifetimes. He was always tender when expressing his opinion just like you are. Yes, there were never heated arguments, cruel words or loud voices from any of you. But he just broke that unsaid rule.

He really hit you where it hurts.

-back at jujutsu high-

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Your fingers ruffle through the pink hair in front of you gently, eyes scanning over Yuji’s bruised body. What an impressive boy he is. How did he manage to break through this sphere, to almost end that curse? For a new jujutsu sorcerer, he is remarkably skilled - and a true sweetheart on top.

“I’m doing fine, don’t worry about me, (y/n)-san. How are you feeling? You seem so…I don’t know, different I guess. Are you alright?”

You force a small smile onto your shaky lips. Is it selfish that you can’t forget the way Kento barked at you, that he basically told you you are too weak for this fight? You wish you were better than that, strong enough to outstand your self-seeking feelings and visit him in the hospital wing.

But you simply can’t. Not right now. Not when his stinging voice is still so present in your mind.

“Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“Hey, how you’re doing, sweet cheeks? Nanami is asking for you, are you free?”

You swallow away the big lump forming in your throat, eyes not daring to look up at her.

“Actually, I still have to tell Gojo what happened. Thank him for his invitation, I have to keep going.”

You need to get out of here as fast as possible, away from the stinging gaze of Shoko who knows exactly something’s up, who eyes you up and down. As if in trance you storm out of the hospital wing, straight into the burning hot sunlight, heart pumping so hard against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any possible minute.

“ENOUGH!”

His voice still echoes through your head, makes you feel like a child again. Kento never looked at you this coldly, without any emotion in his usual so soft orbs. What on earth did you do to upset him like this? After all, you were on countless missions together before, defeated multiple grade 1 curses side by side. What was different this time? Was it Yuji, the bad weather? Why did he decide to scream at you like this?

“What are you doin’ here? I was already on my way to look after you in the hospital wing. Aren’t ya supposed to be by Nanami’s side?”

Your heart stops for a minute. Fuck, Gojo Satoru and his cheeky smile are definitely the last thing you need right now. If he only knew how much his words make your heart sting in agony, how much strength it costs you to act like nothing happened. You know how ridiculous it must be, avoiding the love of your life over some random words and a harsh tone.

But you can’t help it.

“I was on my way to report about the mission”, you explain briefly.

“Is there something you need to tell me? C’mon, you can’t even look at me (y/n).”

Your glossy eyes dart towards Gojo. God, how pathetic you feel. Why aren’t you able to just get over it and move on? Why are you making things so hard for both you and Kento, standing here on the brink of tears instead of being by his side?

“I can’t have it right now, Gojo. Just leave me alone.”

But despite the way your heart aches for him, you continue walking towards your dorm. That stone cold look on his face, the way he clenched his fists.

“This is too big for you.”

“You are acting like a stupid child.”

You shake your head violently. No, you aren’t able to simply forgive and forget what you saw that mission. This man wasn’t the Kento Nanami you know and love, not the man you thought he was. What if it was all a lie? What if this is what he really sees in you? A weakling, a dumb child.

Breathe in, breathe out, don’t lose your composure.

“I need some time for myself…”

-a few weeks later-

Kento hates it with every fiber of his being. Waking up in the morning, your face still present in his sleep-drunken mind until reality hits him. Since he lashed out, you didn’t talk more than a few necessary sentences with him. And even though you don’t seem to be cold and distant, everything just changed.

Oh, if he could turn back time, if he was able to take back all those things he said to you. He should have stopped when you flinched backwards, should have stopped when your eyes turned glossy. But he knew your life was in serious danger, that Mahito is no curse to be messed with. The decision between hurting your feelings or watching you die…

At least you’re safe. At least Mahito was too focused on finishing him to even involve you into his sphere. This should be everything he cares about, it’s only naturally that you are hurt. But still…What would he do to hold you again, what would he do for you to smile at him as brightly as you did back then. He misses you with his whole heart.

“You could just try talking to her, y’know? I bet (y/n) might understand”, Gojo tries to cheer him up, legs laying stretched out on the table between them.

“I don’t want to force myself onto her. After all, I deserve her anger and disappointment.”

And oh, it was written on your face. The way your trembling lips parted, how your eyes widened just the slightest when his words hit you like a train.

“C’mon, don’t be so hard on yourself-“

“I hurt her. And I will never forgive myself for doing that”, he interrupts the white-haired man determined.

“Well, could you forgive yourself if she got killed?”

Nanami lets out his breath, simply stares into the distance. Of course Gojo is right. Damn, he doesn’t regret his decision. But still…

It hurts.

“Sorry. Do you have a minute to…talk?”

His heart stops beating. There you stand, nervously picking on your nails while you look at him. God, he always looks so fine. Why on earth does he have to look so fine? No, you have to focus. After all, you are here to talk things out. These last weeks were nothing but torture for you, your heart bleeding waterfalls every time you saw him. Oh, you never knew you were able to crave someone else this badly.

But there you are, standing in the door like an idiot.

“You sure can! I’m doing…some other stuff I guess. See ya!”

Within the blink of an eye, Gojo is gone in the wind and leaves you alone with him.

“You don’t have to stand there. Please, sit down.”

That gentle tone you know you well, his inviting voice that makes your stomach drop from time to time. With wobbly legs, you cross the room to sit opposite to him on the still warm chair of Gojo.

What are you supposed to say? How are you supposed to act? Your mind goes blank, forgets every little piece of conversation you trained these last days. Fuck, why are you even here? Maybe you should just leave-

He grabs your hand.

Nanami Kento grabs your hand.

“Let me apologize for the things I said to you back then. It was in no way right to snap at you like that. But when I saw what Mahito is able to do, when I realized he is far better than all the other special grade courses I ever encountered…(y/n), it might sound selfish, but all I could think about was saving you.”

You stare at him in utter disbelief, heart beating out of your chest. Did he…did he really say that?

“You…wanted to save me…”

“You are a skilled jujutsu sorcerer, probably better than me. But if it wasn’t for Yuji, I would be dead by now. To think that you might die…I couldn’t take it, (y/n). You are everything to me.”

“Everything…”

“This might be the wrong moment, the worst timing for saying such things. But I love you, (y/n). I loved you with all my heart for ages, love you for everything you are. Even though you aren’t able to forgive me what I said, even though you don’t want to see me again…(y/n), I love you.”

The countless nights you kept yourself awake pondering about how he feels for you, the countless nights his words echoed through your heart. The countless nights you thought you interpreted his affection wrong, that he doesn’t feel the same.

Vanished into thin air.

Nothing but a fade whisper in the darkness.

“These last weeks you were all I could think about. I thought you might not feel the same, that you might not be the person I thought you were-“

He squeezes your hands firmly, the troubled ocean of his eyes getting lost in yours.

“I’m not able to put my feelings into words the way you deserve it, (y/n). But I know for sure that I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

You snap. All these nights without him, the grief you were put through, his gorgeous face close enough to touch while you couldn’t allow yourself to. With a swift motion you crawl over the table that divides the two of you, closing the distance of these past weeks with a kiss.

A kiss that contains all the anger, the disappointment and the affection you hold for him. That gorgeous man who swept you off your feet. That gorgeous man who showed a side you’ve never seen before, who risked his own life in order to save yours.

Nanami Kento.

“God, I love you (y/n). I love you so much”, he mutters against your lips, hands pressing you firmly against his warm body.

“I don’t want to let go again.”

He smiles against your mouth, eyes gleaming like the sun itself.

“Then don’t”.

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

485 notes · View notes

pedroshotwifey · 9 months ago

Text

Beg For It

Pairing: Virgin!Din Djarin x afab!reader

Word count: 3.9k

Tags/warnings: piv sex, oral (m), cock worship, virgin din, premature ejaculation, teasing, humiliation, sub din, dom reader, degradation, cockpit sex™, embarrassment, age gap (younger reader), din djarin's monster cock, helmet stays on, pet names, snarky reader, experienced reader, stuff I'm forgetting (c'mon guys, it's me.)

Summary: You make a shocking discovery about Din and decide to do something about it.

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry if you're waiting on TTF or FB rn, but my brain does not want to cooperate atm. TTF 4 should be out relatively soon, but I'm not sure about FB. I hope you like this fic, bc I have no idea where it came from 🤣 My asks are always open in the meantime!!

***

“Fuck, it’s tight in here,” you complain as you stuff yourself into the small alcove exposed by the panel that was just removed from the Crest’s wall.

“And a fucking mess. Do you ever organize this shit, Din?”

The exasperated sigh that comes from behind you is enough to answer your question.

You roll your eyes as you reach for the tangled ball of wires in front of you. No wonder the lights have been flickering. You’re lucky it wasn’t anything worse than that.

“Who would even be doing this shit if you didn’t have me? Not like your broad ass could fit in here.”

Mando scoffs behind you.

“We got along perfectly fine before you,” he argues. “Grogu could fit in there, I’d have him do it.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh.

“Yeah, that would go over well.”

Din ignores your quip as he comes up to your side and nudges you with his boot.

“Hey! Can you not?” You turn your head to bite out at him even though he can’t see you.

“Scootch over,” he demands. “I need to see what you’re doing so you don’t blow the ship up or something.”

“Wow, it’s really reassuring to know how much faith you have in me, Mando.”

You swear you hear him bite down on a laugh and you smile despite yourself. You squash yourself to the side as much as you can, allowing a small gap so Din can peek in beside you. He groans as he lowers himself to his belly.

“Poor old man,” you can’t help but tease. “Bad knees getting to you?”

“Shut up,” Din quips.

You don’t actually know how old Din is, but you’re placing your bets on late thirties or early forties. Definitely older than you either way, but not quite old enough to be deserving of your quips. That’s not going to stop you, of course.

By the time he’s looking inside, you’ve untangled the mess of wires and separated the two that need to be switched.

“Damn it, Mando, you’re blocking my light. I can’t see shit.”

He sighs for the umpteenth time today.

“Really? There’s plenty of light,” he argues.

“Yeah, maybe when you have a fucking night vision mod in your helmet. Get up and tell me what to do from there.”

He obeys but you swear you hear him mutter something about being bossy through a groan.

“What have you done so far?”

“I’ve separated the red and blue wires from the rest.”

“Okay, go ahead and pull them both from their outlets.”

You try to pull them off, but you can’t quite reach the outlets on the back wall.

“Damn it,” you mutter.

You shove your knees under yourself and arch your back in attempt to push yourself further into the wall. Straining a bit, you’re able to grasp both ends and successfully tug them towards yourself.

“Got it, what now?”

“Put the red wire where the blue wire was, and the blue where the red was,” Mando instructs. His voice sounds much raspier than it had a second ago, making you quirk a brow.

“You okay there?” you ask as you finish the task.

“Yup,” he croaks.

“Okay, I’m coming out.”

You start to wriggle yourself back, and you hear Din make a strangled sound before biting down on it. It’s not until you feel your ass waggling with your movement that you realize what has him so worked up. A sly smirk quickly spreads across your face as you decide there’s no harm in teasing him a bit.

You groan and arch your back further as you back out, your ass up in the air as much as you can get it. You take your sweet time sitting up once you're out, and you can almost feel the heat coming from Mando by the time you do. You turn around to face him only to find that he’s avoiding your gaze, his hands clasped together casually in front of his crotch. You honestly wonder who he thinks he’s fooling—there’s not much that could hide a tent that size.

“What’s the matter, big boy?” you ask sweetly. “You look a bit flustered.”

“N-nothing.”

You have to physically bite down on your lip to avoid laughing at his voice crack. You’ve never heard him struggle so much. He clears his throat and tries again.

“Nothing’s wrong, cyar’ika.”

“Hm. You sure? Because I’m pretty sure you were checking my ass out a second ago.”

Din chokes on nothing as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“I was not!” He bites out in a panicked tone.

“Nothing wrong with it, I get it. I’d check out my ass, too,” you laugh and shrug. He looks down at his feet and your brows furrow. This might be the most flustered you’ve ever seen him.

“Dude, it was just an ass, not a big deal. I’m sure you’ve seen much more than that,” you chuckle lightly.

He slowly looks up at that, and time comes to a stop as things click into place in your head.

“Holy shit,” you say, bewildered. “You haven’t seen more than that. You’re a virgin aren’t you?”

You grin when he says nothing in response. No fucking way the Mandalorian hasn’t fucked or been fucked before. Hell, you’ve wanted to fuck him since you came aboard this junk pile of a ship. Damn, you’re going to take this opportunity and fucking run with it.

“Poor baby Din, never had pussy before,” you coo at him as you stand all the way up. “What’s the matter? Is it too small? Maybe you don’t even like pussy. You want a big strong man to fuck your ass?” You know you’re just spouting anything you think might get under his skin at this point.

“N-no,” he bites out, though there’s not much conviction behind it. You continue walking towards him, forcing him toward the cockpit’s pilot seat.

“No? You don’t like cock, Din?”

“I think you need some help, big guy. You clearly need someone to dominate you, since you don’t have the balls to step up yourself. You’re lucky I’m here, I can show you how good it can be.”

Din’s hands move closer to his clothed cock to hide the twitch that ensues from your words. You see the movement and it only spurs you on. He gulps again as you keep walking toward him.

“No, I-”

“Take a seat, Mando.”

He crosses his arms and stands up straighter, leveling you with a defiant stare you can practically feel through his beskar helmet.

“I will do no such thing.”

“Oh,” you reply, crossing your arms and returning the look. “But you will.”

You glance down at the impressive bulge in his flight suit, smirking when you catch him shift ever so slightly under the weight of your gaze.

“I think you want to sit down for me, Mando. And I think you’re going to be begging for my cunt by the time I’m done with you.”

You take a step toward him, and you can see the subtle way he stops himself from taking a step back in response. You stop in front of him and let your hand down to graze his covered length. There’s a sharp intake of breath barely heard throughout the hull. If you had been standing where you were a few seconds ago, you would have missed it.

“Sounds like you already want to, actually.”

You cup him fully now, and a strangled sound slips through his tightly sealed lips.

“Poor little virgin Din, doesn’t even know how good he could have been feeling all this time,” you tease, giving him a light squeeze.

“S-stop,” he grits out, uncrossing his arms to grab your wrist with one hand. Your movements come to a swift stop.

“Ask me again, and I will,” you tell him. “But I don’t think you really want that, do you? I think you want to stick your dick inside my warm pussy and come your dumb little brains out.”

There’s a brief silence as you stare each other down, and you can almost feel the way he starts to consider his options.

“I-”

You give him another squeeze, tighter this time, and his hips buck forward as another animalistic sound tumbles from his tongue.

“Fuck, please,” Din whines as he gives up trying to hold back. You grin wildly at the sound.

“Please, what, Din? What do you want?”

“P-please fuck me!”

Your hand flattens against him and starts to rub sensually up and down, giving him enough friction to have him shivering with each pass.

“Okay, baby. Sit down like I told you to, and I’ll take care of you.”

He nods as you start to lead him backwards, the back of his knees hitting the cockpit chair and forcing him to follow your instructions.

“What a good boy,” you lean forward to coo at the side of his helmet, right where his ear would be. “Why don’t you take your cock out for me?”

You push yourself away from him, your hands placed on either arm rest as you lean over him. Din hesitates for a moment, clearly not used to the kind of vulnerability you’re asking him to surrender.

“Go ahead, baby. I promise I won’t make fun.” In fact, you know you won’t. Judging by the massive tent in his pants, there is absolutely no way that Din Djarin is anywhere near small. Not that you’ll tell him that, of course.

You stare intently as he gulps and lets his hands trail down to unbuckle his belt and shakily pull his zipper down, revealing his boxers. He waits a beat before pulling himself completely out, and you have to fight to keep your jaw from dropping when he does.

“Holy shit, Djarin,” you gawk. “Well, your dick definitely wasn’t the problem. Scared some people off if anything.” Honestly, it almost scares you. You don’t think your hand could even fully wrap around it if you grabbed it right now.

You look back to his helmet, making what you hope is eye contact. Judging by the way he shifts in the seat, you’re pretty sure you’re spot-on.

“You’re so pretty, Din. It’s a shame nobody’s ever told you.”

“T-thank you,” he breathes, his head turning slightly.

“I want you to put your hands on the armrests while I show you how pretty I think you are.”

He hesitates, obviously still not sure about any of this.

“Go ahead,” you prompt. “Unless you want me to cuff you to the damn chair.”

At this, he quickly obeys your request and lets his hands go to grip the rests. His cock slaps up, hard and leaking against his covered stomach. He twists his neck all the way to the side, avoiding eye contact as much as he can manage. As much as he’s resisting giving in, you can see how his chest heaves with desire. In this case, the lust is simply stronger than the embarrassment.

You quickly bring a hand up to grab at the bottom of his helmet, roughly jerking his head back to look at you.

“You’re going to watch me while I suck your cock. If I see you look away, you’re not going to like what happens after.”

Din shivers and nods, shaken slightly by your authoritative tone.

“Say ‘yes, ma’am’.”

You watch his throat bob as he gulps down his nervousness.

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathes out.

“See, you can be such a good boy when you put your mind to it.”

You slink down to your knees and place your hands on his thick, tense thighs. With your eyes level with his cock, you’re able to watch the way a spurt of precum dribbles down from the tip.

“Look at that, baby. Little dick is drooling already and I haven’t even touched you.”

Din tenses and clenches his hand but makes a point not to look away. Good, at least you know he’s listening. Who knew how easy it is to tame a Mandalorian? A little humiliation and degradation can go a long way.

You lean forward, grabbing hard onto his thighs in reminder to keep his hands where they are as you stick your tongue out to scoop up the precum leaking down his shaft. His hips jut forward, and you swear you hear a quiet whine from his helmet. You can’t help but chuckle lightly.

You decide not to waste your time with little licks, and instead lean forward to take his entire tip into your mouth. Now you definitely hear a whine. You struggle to shove more of him into your mouth and down your throat, his girth making it much more of a task than it needs to be.

You can feel yourself getting wetter just from the thought of how deliciously he would stretch you out in other places. It really is a damn shame he’s kept this absolute monster tucked away for so long.

His fingers twitch at the same time his head slams back into the headrest, though he keeps it angled down so he can keep watching you. You have to swallow a few times to work him all the way down, and by that time you can almost feel the way he’s tightened up to restrain himself.

You take pity on him and pull back, resisting the urge to gag as his weight drags across your throat again. A string of spit connects you to his shiny cock as you smirk up at him.

“Tell me how it feels, sweet boy.”

“F-feels s-so good, c-cyare,” Din squeaks.

“Yeah, you want more?”

He nods furiously and you immediately flick the tip of his swollen cock, earning you a strangled yelp as his hips buck wildly.

“What’s the matter? Finally got your dick wet and suddenly you forget how to speak?”

He begins to shake his head before catching himself and giving you a verbal response.

“N-no–I mean, yes, yes I want more! Please touch me,” he thrusts his hips forward again, though you're not sure if it’s voluntary or not.

“Alright, since you asked so nicely.”

You quickly grasp him and start to pump him furiously, leaning to him again to drool on his tip. The extra lubricant makes your hand glide more smoothly, your pace picking up to the point where you can see his balls drawing up.

You work your mouth in tandem with your fist, worshiping his throbbing cock with open mouthed kisses and gentle nips on the exposed skin. You close your eyes for a second to savor the way he feels between your lips, and the salty flavor that graces your tongue. If you died with Din Djarin’s dick in your mouth, you would die a happy woman.

“C-cyare, I-”

He cuts himself off as you quickly pull yourself away, leaving him with nothing but your cooling spit to focus on.

“No, no, no–ung–I, p-please!”

You laugh at him as he thrusts up, trying to find some kind of friction. His voice sounds wet, almost like there are tears in his eyes.

“Aww,” you stand back to admire his writhing body. “Poor thing can’t remember anything but ‘please’. That’s cute. Not hard to get you dumb, is it, Mando?”

You start to strip in front of him, and his hands come up from the armrests.

“You better not be moving your fucking hands, Din,” you warn. “I know where you keep those damn binders, don’t think I won’t use them.”

He groans but lets his wrists back down. His feet shift instead since there’s nothing else he’s able to move at the moment. He whines again as your top comes off with your bra, and then your pants with your panties.

Fully naked and obviously soaked, you stalk toward him yet again, stopping to place your hand on his shoulder as you climb into his lap, careful not to touch his cock just yet. You settle your thighs over the tops of his and spread your legs.

When you look up at him, he’s staring you back in your eyes, refusing to look down. You smirk once you realize why.

“Don’t get shy on me now, baby boy,” you say. “Go ahead and look at my pussy, I know you want to.”

You watch him slowly lower his gaze and breathe out a curse once it lands on your seam. Leaning forward, you whisper again to the side of his helmet.

“You can move a hand, Din. Spread me open.”

He visibly trembles at your command but lifts an arm none-the-less. You feel his fingers trail gently down to where you want him, but he stops just short.

“T-take my glove off, please. Want to feel you, cyar’ika.”

You smile at him and carefully bring his hand up to pull his glove off, his dick twitching as you do so. You lick your lips as a tanned and scarred hand is revealed. It’s ridiculous how attracted you are to that simple appendage. You wish you could see his entire body, but you know that’s not a likely scenario.

Once his glove is discarded on the floor, he moves back to your cunt and sucks in a harsh breath as he feels you.

“You’re s-so wet,” he says in a way that makes you unsure if he meant to say it out loud or not.

You laugh quietly and guide his hand so that he can prod at your hole, to which he chokes.

“That’s all because of you, sweet boy.”

You move your hips forward, and his fingers slip through your seam, your slick collecting on the rough pads. You grasp his wrist to bring his hand to your lips, opening your mouth to suck your tang of the digits at the same time as you let your pussy push against the underside of Din’s cock.

Another animalistic noise accompanies the way his entire body jolts at the sudden contact. With a pop, you pull his fingers from your mouth to make room for the giggle that bubbles up from your throat.

“Poor baby’s so sensitive!” you exclaim as you grind against him, making him groan with each pass. Both of his hands grip down hard, one on the rest and the other on your thigh. The man has a fucking grip, you’re sure there will be five little bruises littered across your skin tomorrow. You wonder how good that grip would feel on your hips as he drills himself into you from the back, and file that thought back for another day.

You shudder as his tip bumps up against your clit, sending little shocks up your spine and making you dizzy.

“Gonna fuck you now, baby boy,” you breathe. “You want that? Want to stick your cock inside me?”

“I-ungh-yes, yes!”

“Yeah?” you ask as you keep up your movements. “Beg for it.”

“P-please,” Din asks a bit too quietly for your liking. You would bet all the credits you won that he’s blushing under that armor right now.

“Oh, come on now, you can do better than that.”

There’s a short moment where you think Din isn’t going to do it, and a lump of disappointment gets stuck in your throat. Luckily, he doesn’t make you sit with it for too long.

“Please, please put my d-dick in your pussy, want to feel you, please! I-I can’t–I want–”

In the middle of his babbling, you lift yourself up and line his cock with your entrance, slowly lowering yourself down. His hands fly to your hips at the same time his thoughts fly from his brain, unable to think of anything but the way your tight pussy is parting to welcome his fat tip.

He’s never felt anything quite this pleasurable before, the sensation nearly blinding him as you work yourself down onto him.

Your head tilts back as Din holds onto your hips for dear life. The combination of that pressure along with the burn from his cock stretching you out is almost too much. You can feel a heat bubbling at the base of your spine, and he’s not even all the way inside of you yet.

“Oh, god, that’s so good, Din. You’re so good.”

He whimpers in response, though part of that may be due to the fact that your hips are now flush to his. You’re both panting, a sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies. You can’t see the perspiration on Din, but you can feel the moist heat emanating from him.

You open your eyes, not realizing they had been closed in the first place. You’ve never been this fucking full in your life. You swear you can feel him all the way up to your throat.

“M–plea–please move,” Din begs and lets his helmet rest on your forehead. His entire body is shaking with the effort of not blowing his load too quickly.

You grant his request, starting to rock your hips as you bring a hand to settle on his neck, delighted to find a damp mess of curls peeking out from his helmet at the nape. Din gasps as you tug lightly while lifting your hips.

You start a slow but steady rhythm, your skin slapping against each other each time you bottom out. His heavy cock drags against your walls, making your toes curl. A little whine sneaks out from Din’s concealed lips every time you sink down on him.

A lewd moan tumbles from your lips as you feel him punch against your cervix, tucking in further than you’ve ever been able to reach before.

“Fuck, Din! You’re so deep, baby!”

“I’m not g-going to last l-long, Meshla,” Din strains.

You ride him harder, taking that as a challenge. The tight thatch of hair at the base of his cock catches on your clit as you slam down on him, bringing you further to the brink. Something white hot flashes within your body, blinding you momentarily.

You’re not even able to tell him you’re close too before you’re clamping down on him, and he’s shouting as he loses control. Your moans tangle together as you soak his dick, your legs trembling unlike you’ve ever experienced before.

Din wraps his arms around you as he thrusts up into you, spilling himself within your heat. You’ve never in your life seen or felt anyone come as much as he does. Every time you think he’s done, you feel another spurt of his seed clinging to your walls.

By the time you’re both coming down, your ears have started ringing and your breathing has calmed down enough for you to get a word out, though you’re not sure Mando’s quite capable of that yet.

“Y-you good?” you manage to gasp.

You feel Din nod against you, and give yourself permission to lean against him. You’re wrung fucking dry. If this is what it feels like when you’re on top, what might it be like when Din’s in charge? The thought makes your body shudder and your pussy quiver. You sit in silence with him for a while until he finally breaks it with a voice just above a whisper.

“C-can we do that again?”

You laugh at hearing the last thing you expected to come from his mouth after that.

“Fucking maker, Din.”

***

Thank you for reading!! Please consider interacting if you enjoyed this!

605 notes · View notes

swee7dream · 4 months ago

Note

hi vixy! i miss you sm 😞🫶 being here is just not the same when i'm not interacting w/ you (ノ_＜。) and im here in your inbox for a request!

remember when i always gush about your use of endearments? atm, im craving for a hc fic of 7dreamies using their favorite endearment/petname/nickname for reader >< i absolutely think that they have their own ways and the oddest yet the most endearing nicknames for their special ppl and i think about it everytime i read your fics bcuz there is that kind of spice of it in your works (*^-^) and i love it ^^

i hope you're doing well, love! have a great day (人´ｴ`*)♪

xoxo, wynnie.

7dream's nicknames for their partners nct dream x f!reader

genres fluff, established relationship warnings feminine pet names used, quasi-suggestive but not really ( renjun ) author's note omg not the love letter in my inbox !!! love u 5ever wynnie . sorry the bulletpoints are kinda short, i tried to make up for it in the mini-fics ! ty for the request + i hope u like it !

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

a very simple, casual guy

babe, dude (romantically), my girl

he can’t even tease you when you tell him it gives you butterflies because he’s the exact same way, giggling into his hand and turning away to hide his silly grin from you

call him dude though? he’ll be sulky until the next day (as if, he melts into a puddle with just one kiss)

“dude,” mark calls out from the hallway, still unsure where everything is still, being your first sleepover. “have you seen my charger? i don’t know where i left it.” “i dunno, man. you should ask your girlfriend.” “wow…” he extends the word in between laughter. he shuffles in his slides back into the bedroom, doubling over your body laying comfortably under sheets. “you are my girlfriend.” “nuh-uh. i’m your dude. your bro. your homeslice.” you over-emphasize the last word, flicking your tongue like a snake. “more like my homewife.” he giggles, reaching up to peck your lips. “that was terrible.” “come on! that’s worth at least half a point.” “negative eight thousand points.”

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

my love, darling, sweetheart

in my heart of hearts i view huang renjun as the definition of a romantic

maybe he won’t have diamond necklaces for you every date night, but he always makes sure to show his love in the small, important things

he has your favorite snack for when you get home, changes the bedsheets when you forget to, and refills the soap bottles in the bathroom before you even notice you’re running low

“you took care of the dishes.” renjun jumps in his seat, not even hearing when you came in. “i did.” he turns from his canvas to look at you, smiling as you’re already wrapping your arms around his waist. “how was your day, my love?” “exhausting. you are the sexiest man alive, you know that?” you mumble into his hair. “for washing dishes?” “so hot.” you nod, squeezing him tighter. “gee, thanks,” he chuckles, reaching a hand up to scratch your head. “how about a bath? wash away all that exhaustion.” “join me?” you pout. “of course, darling.”

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა

doll, baby, babydoll

you are a living, breathing doll to him and everyone needs to know!!!!!

he forgets he’s literally mr. ferragamo sometimes and just stares at you with super heart eyes like:

wow (ෆ人ෆ) that’s my baby

“what about this one?” you spin in to give jeno a 360. “i really liked it in the store but i’m not so sure about it now.” “you’re the prettiest girl ever, doll.” jeno sits with his legs spread, his hands in the middle holding the edge of the chair he sits on. “pretty, pretty, pretty.” “thank you, jen.” you look at him. “but i’m asking about the clothes. i don’t know if this shade suits me! or maybe it’s the texture of the clothes? actually, it might be the material.” “everything suits you. if it doesn’t, it’s because the designer was stupid. you’re the pinnacle of fashion, babydoll.” “you’re silly.” you giggle, walking toward him to dig your fingers into the back of his hair. “you don’t think i should return it?” “absolutely not. you look great in red, baby.” “this is white, jen.” “whatever. gimme a kiss.”

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

baby, sunshine, sweetheart (derogatory)

outsiders looking in eavesdropping on your conversations don’t know if you’re about to bite each other heads off or make out against the wall

what else could you expect from haechan ‘dating is so boring, let's be best friend and act like in a relationship’ lee

you feel a dark energy looming over your shoulder, as you often have since saying yes to your first date with hyuck. you continue to feel it as your card taps on the reader, beeping happily at the successful payment, unaware of the incoming chaos. “oh heck yeah! thanks for the food, sis!” haechan’s hand sneaks around to hold the back of your head, pulling you into a deep kiss. he only squeals like an anime girl as your hands slide up to push him away and turn to the cashier, apologizing profusely and failing to convince them that you’re not, in fact, related. “thanks for treating me, sweetheart.” “hey siri, search shooting ranges near me.” “wait, baby no-”

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

lovey, princess, my muse

fun fact: he loves being called prince. having matchy matchy names makes his heart full and gives his life purpose (his words)

i put those three down but honestly, it really depends on the day. he’s constantly making new ones every single hour

he sees you in the flowers growing in the cracks in the sidewalk (‘petal’), in the songs of the birds outside (‘birdy’), in that one painting he saw back in a museum in italy (‘angel’)

“oh wait, i like these!” you swipe through some candid photos jaemin took of you of a trip you two took a while back on his phone. “how come you didn’t send me these?” “if i sent you every picture i took of you you would think i’m a crazed stalker.” “i know you are and i still love you.” you smile at him before turning back to the phone screen. “urgh. you’re always changing my name in your contacts. what is it now?” “munchy.” “munchy?” you stare at him with your eyes furrowed, having turned in slow motion as if you heard him wrong. “that was the name of one of the tortoises we saw at the zoo. he was so cute. it reminded me of you when you eat pasta. so you’re munchy.” “…okay, jaem. thanks, i think.”

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ)

babe, dollface, beautiful

surprisingly, not a big petname user. not at first at least

but one time he clocked you getting pouty and in your head and learned that you liked being called sweet things other than your name.

“what’s wrong with your name? i like your name, dollface.” you can see something switch inside of his mind. “mmm, okay. i’ll try.”

“i miss you…” even through the phone, chenle can’t help but smile at your voice. “please don’t die.” “i’m at the grocery store for ice cream you asked for, dollface. i’m not gonna die.” “what if you get hit by a car?” you sniffle, hormones overwhelming you. “i’ll survive.” “how do you know?” “i just do. you should know by now i’m superman, babe.” “fly home, le. wanna cuddle.” “don’t threaten me with a good time.” he chuckles, phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder as he places your ice cream—and a couple other things he thought you might appreciate—on the counter to be rung up. “stay put, beautiful. i’m coming.”

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩)

babe, dude, pretty (used EXCLUSIVELY behind closed doors)

bro gets embarrassed just breathing air, you think he’s gonna have the guts to be cheesy with you in public?

even calling you babe in public has him with his voice lowered.

it’s really counteractive considering being so shy about things brings only more attention to him from his friends

“could you pass me my phone?” jisung’s request flies over your head as the group conversation is alive and well around you. “babe,” he mutters, finally getting your attention. “can you pass me my phone?” in good 7dream fashion, all the boys ‘ooh’ at him, haechan and mark fangirling obnoxiously. “baby darling sugarplum angelface!” donghyuck mocks, laughing at jisung holding his head in his hands, being consoled by your rubbing his back. “could you pass me my phone, my darling sweetheart pookiebear cupcake?”

author's note i fear i'm running out of themes for fic headers !!!!! why was i not blessed with the moodboard bone all my other lovely mutuals have D:

348 notes · View notes

clovestreet · 1 year ago

Text

let me- ethan landry

an: i am absolutely FERAL for this man atm...😨i just had to write something abt him..

summary: you have been super stressed about exams lately and ethan knows the best way to make you feel better. (also this is DEFINITELY more soft ethan??) but i like that.. lol

warnings⚠ SMUT (16+), oral (f receiving), strong language

Hell on earth was organic chemistry.

Your absolute fucktard of a professor had scheduled your exam on the same day as two of your other exams. This man had it out for you.

You massaged your temple as you drummed your pencil on your notes. Your brain wasn't functioning anymore. You had been sitting at this godforsaken desk for three hours now. You needed a break.

You forced yourself out of your chair and faceplanted on your bed next to your boyfriend in defeat. You sighed into the mattress and tried to gather your thoughts.

"Something bothering you baby?" your boyfriend laughed as he rubbed small circles into your back, clearly amused by your frustration with trying to memorize aromatic compounds.

"I can't do this anymore E, "I'm actually so exhausted."

"I wish someone would just kill the stupid bastard." you groaned into your palms.

Ethan gulped and immediately froze in his movements and you weren't sure why. But then he was comforting you again like nothing had happened.

"I'm sorry baby. If it makes you feel better, I just failed my last exam."

You laughed as he pulled you closer, the grasp of his arms melting away your stress.

"Honestly, I don't know if anything could make me feel better at this point.”

“Unless you can teach me the structure of carboxylic acid." you said with your hands on his chest staring into his dark eyes.

His chest shook with laughter and it was music to your ears. Ethan was so comforting and even being in his arms took you to a place far away from your worries.

"Definitely can't do that, but I think I can take your mind off it for a little while." he murmured into your lips.

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

"Well it usually starts with my head between your legs” he says in a low whisper.

You immediately feel your cheeks flush with warmth and squeeze your legs together.

You completely froze and waited for him to finish his sentence.

“ ..And ends with you screaming my name or something like that." he says with a devilish smirk.

He grins like a lovesick bastard at your embarrassment and tilts his head down to connect his lips to yours. He smiles into the kiss and you can feel your pulse weakening at the way his tongue explores your mouth.

His lips travel down your neck and you know exactly where he's going. You pull him off of you and look him in straight in his hazy brown eyes.

You and Ethan had been together for a little over a year now and you had been intimate more times than you could even begin to remember. You still got nervous before he went down on you and you just couldn't help but feel insecure sometimes, but Ethan always made you forget about all of it when he touched you.

"E, are you sure? You really don’t have to, I-”

He immediately stops you with a confused expression on his face.

“Baby are you kidding? I live for this shit.”

“I should probably get back to studying E, I just-"

He cut you off again, this time taking your head into his hand and made sure you met his gaze.

"Fuck studying. Let me make you feel good babe."

His thumb gently brushed over your cheek as he searched your eyes for an answer.

"Ok, fine." you said softly with a shy smile on your face.

"That's my girl." he said with a grin spreading over his face as he placed the softest kiss on your lips.

His fingers danced their way over your ribs under your shirt and his lips were placing gentle kisses on your hipbones. His fingers made their way down to the waistband of your shorts and his eyes quickly glanced up to yours asking for consent. You quickly nodded your head, becoming more and more eager for him to touch you by the second.

He pulled down your shorts gently and tossed them behind him. He hooked his fingers under your lace panties and pulled them down painfully slow. Once they were off, he grabbed both of your legs and put them over his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled them open.

He looked up at you through lustful eyes while licking his lips.

"I got you. Always." he said in a low whisper placing a kiss on your inner thigh.

You brushed a gentle hand over his curls and offered a weak smile to him. You could feel your anticipation for his touch becoming stronger and your legs were shaking before he even touched you.

You could feel his breath on you and you couldn't take it anymore. You wrapped your fingers in his curls and guided him onto you.

He licked up your slit as you sucked in a shaky breath. Your thighs immediately clenched around him, but his strong hands pulled your legs right back open. His tongue started to circle around your clit and your fingers were already tugging on his curls. He groaned into you and the vibration had you letting out a choked moan.

"Right there E." you gasped.

He looked up at your face contorted in pleasure and started to grind his hips onto to the bed. Ethan was the kind of boyfriend who genuinely could get off from pleasuring you and have absolutely no shame about it.

He was lost in the taste of you and you were lost in his touch. You couldn't even remember what you were stressed about in the first place. Your mind was consumed by the feeling of his tongue sloppily tasting you and swirling around your clit, the tight grip of his fingers prying open your thighs, his dark eyes peering up at you through hooded lids occasionally rolling back into his head every time you moaned his name.

His hand slid carefully down your thigh as he slipped his middle finger into you, pumping in and out at a deliciously slow pace.

Your fingers tugged harder on his curls and he practically moaned into you.

"F-feels so good E, you're so good" you whined.

"I know baby I know, I'm gonna get you there I promise." he murmured into you, pressing wet kisses on your clit.

His words made you toss your head back and your back arch off the bed.

He slipped another finger into you, pumping a little faster this time.

Your fingers loosened from Ethan's hair and slid down his bare shoulders. His fingers started to curl inside you, purposefully hitting the spot he knew would send you over the edge. You moaned loudly and your nails dug into his back.

He groaned into you so loudly it almost caught you off guard. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought you hurt him. But you knew better by now. His sounds sent you even closer to the edge.

"Come on babe, let go for me." he breathed into you.

You could feel yourself impossibly close to your high with Ethan's gaze trained on your face. The second Ethan's nose rubbed your clit you were done for.

All you could do was moan his name over and over again, your nails digging into his back sure to leave marks. He fucked you all the way through your high until you were practically dragging him off of you.

You put your hand on the back of his neck and guided him toward your lips. God, he was so beautiful, even with the taste of you glimmering all over his features. You pulled him down into a breathless kiss and brought him closer by draping your leg over his waist.

He drew back and cupped your jaw looking down at you.

"I really hope you're not thinking about studying anymore tonight, because all I want to do-"

"Shut up and kiss me Landry."

#ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #scream 6 smut

2K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

Text

The Man 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You stare at your phone. It can’t be. After everything else going wrong, you can’t deal with Floyd. It suddenly makes sense why he was messing around with your phone. Ew, he’s kind of a creep.

You don’t answer and put the phone away. Well. You have no money, you’re about to have no home, and your milk is spoiled. Don’t panic. You can figure this out. You’re an adult, aren’t you?

First, go to the bank. You need milk. Once you have a coffee, you’ll worry about the whole eviction thing. You leave the convenience store and open Maps to look for the nearest bank kiosk. Not too far, one block. At least you’re getting your steps in.

You follow the directions on screen and turn to cross the road. You’re so distracted, you forget to look both ways and nearly get hit by a gleaming bumper. You wave a head but don’t look up. You need to get to the bank.

You come up to the pulsing blue dot and glance around. Huh. You don’t see a bank. You turn around and face the ATM built into the side of the building. Oh goddang! You walked to a bank machine, not a bank. Is it you? Are you the problem?

You drop your shoulders. Alright. You’ll just try again. You scroll to the next location and spin around, nearly colliding with a new wall. Oh, not a wall, a person.

You look up at Mr. Henson as he watches you with a line between his brows. Somehow, you’re not very surrpised. This guy is everywhere. It’s almost like he has no hobbies.

“Oh, hi, sorry, excuse me, I’m just on my way to the bank--”

“Ah, running short? Need me to spot ya?” He raises his hand, showing a black credit card.

“Um... noooo,” you utter in confusion. The other day, you ran off after calling him names. You really don’t believe he’s changed his stripes. He’s still a snarling tiger getting ready to feast. “Thanks, but I--”

“Things are tight. Job market’s trash, housing isn’t any better, and those banks,” he whistles and puts his card away, “they like to fuck around, don’t they?”

You look at him, scrunching your face up.

“Y-yeah. Weirdly, I did just get a notice to...” your voice trails off. “Why are you bugging me?”

“Bugging you?” His brows pop up and he guffaws, “oh, sweet lips, you’re funny, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know few jokes but--”

“Think a little harder, cupcake,” he lowers his timber and stares at you.

You blink and wet your lips, pushing them together. Think about what?

“Look, about yesterday--”

“I’m talking about today,” he insists.

“Sure, uh...”

“Do I really need to spell this out for you?”

“Spell what out?” You cringe, clawing for some hint of what he means.

“Your bank card isn’t working, right?” He asks, you nod. “You’re getting evicted.” Another nod. “You have no job.”

You make a face, “yes, okay. Rub it in. Alright. I get it. You’re some important guy and I’m a loser. Don’t worry. You own this city but I think I’m on my way out.”

He sighs and presses his fingers flat on either side of his nose. He drops them and opens his eyes again, “it was me. I’m the reason you—Don't you understand what I can do to you? I got you fired, kicked out, and poor in one day. What else do you think I could do?”

Your chest hollows out and your stomach lurches. What? Him? He just doesn’t stop.

“Sir, what—why would you—I'm sorry I called you a meanie. I was upset and the coffee, I tried--” You sniffle and shudder out a half-sob, “I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, well, you shoulda shut those sweet lips and opened those ears, huh?” He grins, “look, cupcake, you’re not going anywhere. You try to run back to your family, I’ll find you. Your mom’s a good lady, you shouldn’t trouble her. She doesn’t make enough teaching brats to put up with another one.”

“My mom—how--”

He spins his finger in the air, “catch up, honey bun. Alright? This is it. I’ll lay it out real clear for you, right now. You have no money, no home, you have nothing. You are nothing.” He jabs his finger at you, “so, I can solve all your problems and make you something.”

You look around. There’s really no way out. He’s a psychopath. You think. You don’t really know the difference between that and sociopath.

“Are you like CIA or something?” You ask.

He scoffs and flinches, “oh man, you are something else. Really, each time you open that mouth, I’m blown away by the idiocy. Rather just get blown, you get it?”

You shake your head and pout.

“Look, I think we can sort this out, Floyd. Really, I’m really sorry and I understand now. I get it. You’re very important and I messed up. I’m nothing and I did everything wrong. And from the bottom of my heart, I apologise. So, can I please have my life back?” You say, “I think we’d both be happier if we just went on our way and never saw each other again.”

His eyes dart away and he stares into the distance. Exasperation wrinkles above his brow and he looks back to you, hands on his hips, “too late, buttercup. So, let me put it as plain as I can. You don’t get a choice. You belong to me now. Just like everything else in this city. You are mine.”

“You can’t... do that.”

“I am doing that,” he insists. “Another thing,” he raises his hand, showing his palm, “it’s Lloyd.” He emphasizes the consonants of his name, “Lloyd Hansen. You can call me sir or Mr. Hansen. Hell, if we’re getting frisky, you can call me daddy.”

“Ugh,” you groan in disgust and curl your lip.

“Ugh?” He mimick the noise, “I’m about to--” He shakes his hand and sucks in the end of his sentence, “fine. Show, don’t tell. Got it.”

You cry out as suddenly he lunges at you. He grabs you by the back of the neck and hauls you forward down the sidewalk. He marches beside you as you writhe and paw at his large hand. You whimper, helpless as pedestrians move out of your path.

“Your mouth got you into trouble, now let’s see if it can get you out,” he growls.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the man #the gray man #drabble #series #au #mob au

225 notes · View notes

moonmedley · 29 days ago

Text

actually to continue my last train of thought, i wanna list all the things we stopped doing that helped us stress a LOT less about our system:

we stopped tracking switches, who's fronting/cofronting/co-con, etc

we stopped tracking who's dormant and who's active

we still track alters but we don't worry about where they come from, if they're part of a sidesys / subsys, etc etc.

furthermore we don't worry about getting EVERY LITTLE DETAIL DOWN; we get name, age, pronouns & identity down, sometimes roles if they apply, but other than that we don't feel the need to keep track of anything else

we don't worry about if we're "communicating properly" anymore. hearing each other's voices is nice and reassuring but sometimes we get emotions, feelings, vibes, images, etc which are all completely normal & still an effective way of communication!

aesthetics are nice and we indulge in them, but we keep it as minimal and easy to copy-and-paste as possible as to not stress over everything being "perfect"

this one's easier said than done but we just... stopped worrying if we were faking. anytime we stressed about it our mental health got so much worse, so whenever we have those thoughts we just...ignore them basically. go "ok then stop faking". nothing changes, we're still a system, it's been effective for us personally.

and there's probably much more i'm forgetting atm, but please let this be a message that you do not need to stress over everything about your system. it's okay to just exist. ✧ julian

#actually plural #plural #plural community #plural system #pluralgang #endo safe #endo friendly #plurality #plural things

139 notes · View notes

dyk3ification · 2 years ago

Text

low | ellie williams

summary: ellie has been and always will be on top, the dominant one. but when reader asserts her control, ellie can’t help but fold a little. basically ellie x dom! fem reader. (written from ellie's pov)

warnings: slight choking, name-calling (teasing), slapping, r receiving, r riding, strap-on sex, pet names, subtop! ellie x dombottom! reader, no use of y/n, if i forget anything pls lmk, 18+ (minors PLS dni.)

word count: 2,592

A/N: hi i havent written in so long and i cant stop reading ellie fics atm so i figured why not! plus i feel like there's a shortage of dom! fem reader fics out there. i just thought it would be a different reading experience to almost be in ellie's head, pretend ur reading her journal or sum fr. all that being said i hope you enjoy!! pls lmk if you do!! and a big ty to @elliewill for all her help and motiv when i was writing and debating this fic, i love her so bad.

i'm in charge, always. in charge of pleasing her, fucking her, loving her; in charge of her. the power complex when she's beneath me while i pound into her, getting to watch her face as the only sound she can make isn't even moaning. just short, open-mouthed gasps and whimpers, her eyes always locked with mine. her eyes would feel like they were nearly piercing into my brain like two damn fucking ice picks.

it only made me want more. more power, more of her. the way her eyes would hold their gaze on mine, even when the pleasure would threaten her to squeeze them shut; or go half-lidded. which was so unbelievably fucking hot to watch, knowing i was the reason for that- i needed her to look at me. i needed to know that she knew who was in charge, who was doing this to her, and who was making her feel so good. so i could know i was that person. who owned her, and fucked her so well she could barely keep her pretty eyes open. or her mouth closed. one of my hands began to travel, the journey starting from one of her thighs that i had pressed into her abdomen as i fucked her, not forgetting to drag the pads of my fingers over her skin; knowing how she reacted- and loving the feel of her shiver beneath them when she did react. the journey ended at her neck, one of my favorite places of her to hold. especially during times like these. i had a hold on her, physically and metaphorically. i threatened a squeeze, smirking softly as her pretty little lips parted when i did. those perfect lips, that were glazed from her drool, and mine. those lips that she couldn't keep shut, but could only let those heavenly fucking sounds out of. the sounds of encouragement, the sounds that i caused her to make. a short gasp fell from those damned lips of hers when i threatened the squeeze. i leaned in even more, my own lips barely touching hers, but enough for her to whimper against mine. it killed me knowing she whimpered, just for me. just for a fucking kiss from me. i began to speak, wanting to hear more of those pretty little praises. whether by sounds or words, despite knowing the words would probably be broken; but that made it even better. “yeah baby? you love me fucking you, ‘feels good, yeah?”

“yeah.. it feels good fucking me, doesn't it, baby?”

my grip on her neck loosened for a moment, more so fucking slipped. i let out a wry laugh to disguise the clearing i needed to do for my throat, nearly choking over what i just heard. i squeezed her throat this time, using her neck as leverage to pull her face to mine. baby? is she fucking with me? her face was smug once we were face to face, i couldn't tell if i was feeling her pulse on my palm or my own fucking heart pounding. baby. why did she sound so fucking hot-

“you okay, baby?” she spoke again. jesus fucking christ. her delicate hand trailed up my forearm, i knew she was watching my face to see if i'd give in. cave into her touch, her words; her. she stopped at my wrist, and my grip on her neck was merely even a hold at this point- and she used it to her advantage. she lifted my hand slowly, placing my thumb between those fucking lips of hers. the same lips that were making me so fucking weak with their words. “`m fine.” i mumbled, maybe stuttered. i knew i didn't look it, but i was so ready to just fucking collapse. and she knew it.

“you sure?” she asked again, the plump skin of her lips brushing against the pad of my thumb when she spoke. i can't fucking do this shit. i hadn't even realized i had stopped moving, or lost my grip on those delicious fucking thighs of hers. but she did.

oh and did she use it to her advantage. she took those thighs and pulled me in again, locking me in with her. i couldn't hold back the groan, i was holding it in for too long at this point. her words, her voice, her fucking lips.. the pressure against me from the fucking harness of the strap when she pulled me in. everything. i dropped my face into the crook of her neck. too ashamed to even face her. god does not fucking give his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.

“ohhh, c’mon baby…” she fucking cooed. i just pressed my lips to her neck, trying to keep together any fucking amount of dignity i had left. if i were ever to whimper- so help me god. she fucking giggled. i suppose the hitch of my breath when my hands practically shook against her waist; was not keeping my act together.

within seconds i was being pushed onto my back, my own hands getting thrown at my sides. she crawled right onto my lap, her thighs on either side of mine, caging me in. i was absolutely fucking gone. i threw my hands up, my biceps staying against the bed. “babe.” i managed to get out, my eyes probably looking fucking wild. do i look at her face, her tits, her? she had rode me before, just not.. like this. “what is it, baby?” she said so fucking casually. like it was just some ordinary fucking question. is she fucking insane?

“noth.. nothin’.” i said through a shaky breath, real fucking dominant ellie. my eyes darted back and forth between her own, and her hips as she took me in again. that perfectly tight little cunt of hers sliding both of us right back into place. i bit down on my lip, leaning my head back into the pillow and just staring at the ceiling. i was gone.

a few throaty moans escaped my lips. a sound i rarely let happen. get it to-fucking-gether. the pressure on me from her bouncing on the stupid fucking cock, the sheer sight of her fucking herself on me like the little fucking slut she was. i could barely even watch her, i'd embarrassed myself enough. all i could do was let a hand run up her thigh, too weak even to caress it the way i usually would. i stopped at her hip, those perfect round hips she moved so fucking well for me. she had the power now. she had power over me.

“you like watching me fuck you, huh baby? so fucking dirty-” she spoke almost brokenly, but the words. the words. i think i let out a choke from them. if she ever knew how close to the edge i was right now. so close to soaking through the thin cotton of my fucking boxers. just from this and the friction, i’d never fucking hear the end of it. maybe i wanted to listen to it, though.

“mm- mhm. watching.. watching you take me s-so fucking good baby…”

she froze, stopping all her movements. those eyes piercing mine once again. oh fuck.

“did you just fucking stutter?” she said with that smug little fucking look, i could practically hear a laugh in her throat. she tilted her head, slowly leaning down to be face to face. i'm fucking gone. i furrowed my brows when i looked back to her. keep your fucking composure ellie. get it together. “no.” i practically choked on the syllable, my hand on her hip slipping slightly. she just gave me a smirk, that slutty little, smug, fucking smirk.

“fuck.”

it was all i could say- whimpered, when she jutted her hips forward, if she didn't know i was on the brink before, she sure as fuck did now. my hands had dropped at this point, i had to of looked like such a fucking fool. i couldn't even keep my eyes open at this point, but i had to. i couldn't miss seeing her like this. being such a slut and owning it. owning me. she looked so fucking hot right now, taking me in and out of that tight cunt effortlessly, her hair thrown to one side, her perfect fucking tits bouncing with every jut of her hips. and she was all fucking mine, and clearly, i was all fucking hers.

i squeezed my eyes shut, unsure of how else to hide how fucking close i was. how fucking close i was to letting go into my fucking boxers beneath the goddamned harness of the strap she was fucking herself on. i kept my eyes shut, unable to look at her knowing what i was about to fucking do. how fucking embarrassing.

until i felt that sweet little hand of hers on my neck, her touch gentle and her skin soft. my eyes were jutting open, as much as they even could, if they weren't rolling fucking backward already. i whined. how fucking pathetic.

“babe-”

i tried to speak, only to be cut off by a smack on my fucking cheek. from the same dainty hand that was just on my neck. and i fucking moaned. the sting of it. the fucking sting that came from that sweet hand of hers.

“i want you to look at me when you cum.”

and i nearly did right there. she knew what she was doing, what i was trying not to do, the entire fucking time. i just gave her a nod, too embarrassed of what would come out sound or word-wise if i were to fucking speak. usually, i’d be ravenous at this point for her to fucking cum, abusing that cute clit of hers while she bounced on me. until she gushed around me and collapsed. but that's the last possible thing i could even fathom doing right now, she was waiting on me. fucking herself to the brink. fucking me to the verge of insanity, it felt like.

“what a fuckin’ pussy..” she muttered through her heavenly fucking moans, shooting me a smirk. and i let out a fucking gasp. a fucking throaty, wimpy, loser-like fucking gasp.. a whimper.

i knew she was nearing her end, the way her hips twitched at the end of every hip thrust, the way she began to slouch towards me. i just wanted to fucking touch her, and i couldn't.

but she was fucking herself.

“you like watching me play with my little clit, baby-”

fuck.

she was starting to lose again.

“you're so fuckin’ hot, baby..” i finally managed to speak coherently. barely. my eyes darted down to what she was doing, taking my chance when she tilted her head back from the euphoria. those pretty digits of her’s making circles over her clit, so wet her slick had them glistening. god. she looked so fucking pretty like that, using me as a fucking toy. fucking herself into euphoria. so much of a slut for me that my cock wasn't enough. she needed even more.

that hand of hers that had slapped me, that nearly had me coming, amongst other things; still on my cheek. anytime my eyes fluttered shut, she'd give the skin of my cheek beneath her palm a smack. reminding me of what she wanted from me. this tap, she wanted something else. those fingers she had on that clit of hers just mere seconds ago, now being dragged down on my lower lip, tugging it when she did. teasting me with the essence of her cunt that i loved so much. it took everything i had in me not to give in and suck on them like some little bitch, yearning to taste that sweet shine on them.

i wasn't that weak, though.

“go ahead. suck ‘em off, baby. just like my little mouth does on that big fucking cock of yours.”

nevermind.

and i did. wrapping my lips around those two fingers, stabilizing myself by wrapping my hand around her wrist. being a little bitch, her little bitch. i knew i must have looked like one too. sucking the juices of that delicious pussy of hers off of her fingers, latched onto them like i was fucking dehydrated and hadn't had a damn drink in days.

“this must be how pretty i look.. huh? when i'm suck- sucking your dick.”

there she was.

she slipped. if we were in any other situation, i would've caught it. but she did. of course, she did. so she snatched her sweet fingers away, wrapping them around my jaw to cover that slip-up that showed how weak she still was. like i should be fucking talking. to keep my eye contact locked with hers, those gorgeous fucking eyes.

“gonna… gonna cum all over your fucking cock, baby,” she said through broken moans and her pretty little sounds, continuing to fuck as much out of that silicone as she could take. without my relentless ‘help,’ she couldn't take as much. but she was taking it “so good.. my fuck.. fuckin’ whore..” her eyes were glued to mine. the contact unbreakable. like something was holding the connection of us together so fucking well. and there was; pure fucking lust. she knew how badly i wanted to watch. watch her slick shining all over my cock every time she moved up on it, watch it pool at the base of it. soak those perfect fucking thighs, knowing i'd clean it all up for her after.

she was losing.

but fucking so was i.

she let out one loud moan, gasping as she began to tremble, her hand that was once on my neck dragging down to my abdomen. clutching on for dear fucking life. i let out a grunt when her face was down, letting her fuck herself through her orgasm. “so fucking good, baby..” i said as i watched her, hiding my own trembling with hers. i was sure my lip would be fucking bruised from how hard i was biting it. my hands slipping down her hips yet again, still wanting to keep her precious body stable and safe while we, she came. i am no better than a man.

the skin of my abdomen beneath her fingers, now indented with crescent shapes from her damn nails. a wet spot from slick on the base of the strap.

and beneath it.

she collapsed onto my chest, her chest rising with every fall of my own. our bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces that created a perfect picture. i threw an arm around her back as she lifted her hips off with a short breath, allowing me to pull out.

and there she was, there i was. fucked, literally. I tightened my arm around her back, her sweet body curling against mine when i did, dancing the pads of my fingers along her ribs.

she nestled her cheek into the valley of my chest, her sweet fingers dancing up the strap of my sports bra. “hey.” i spoke up, lifting my hand from her side to brush some wispy hairs from her temple, some of them stuck to her sticky skin. she looked up to me, using my chest as a pillow for her chin. that pretty face, all mine.

“you really think i'm a pussy?” i quirked as i looked down to her.

a beat.

“i mean.. you are what you eat.”

“speaking of.”

i smirked. i had a mess to clean up.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #tlou x reader #tlou #tlou2 #tlou smut #ellie williams oneshot #ellie william x afab!reader #the last of us #the last of us smut #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou ellie williams

1K notes · View notes

burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 1 year ago

Note

I was wondering if you do fluff/sfw fics, I love your writings! If so I would request some domestic fluff with one of cillians characters, I'm a sucker for that cute cuddly shit. <3

VISIONS OF SUCH SWEET DAYS ─── neil lewis 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I hold you like the first time. I love your heart and all that you are. When I think of us it seems absurd to not believe in eternity.” — a letter to Albert Camus, María Casares.

pairing. neil lewis x reader

summary. domestic headcanons w/neil lewis!

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, married life, domesticity, mutual pining, bestfriends-to-lovers

word count. 2.4k

a/n. ik this probably won’t get much attention cus theres no smut but this was sm fun to write!!! tysm anon & im so sorry requests are taking long to do😭schools taking precedent for me atm! also this wasn’t proofread i apologize😓 lastly, the title is from “apocalypse” by cigarettes after sex :)

P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR 2000 FOLLOWERS AHHHH I LOVE U GUYS SM!!!

Being in a relationship with Neil Lewis doesn’t change a thing at all. Your dynamic has stayed the same since you were just friends: you two were like an old married couple-- even before you did get married.

For years, it made Jonathan and Lucien wrinkle their noses, and you ponder about the matter often, how lovey-dovey you two had actually been without even realizing it…

🎬 you used to visit him at work with takeout after he complained about forgetting his lunch over the phone. he’d light up when you walked in, why’re you here?! on his tongue before you lifted up the plastic bag, and he’d smile that boyish smile of his, warm and appreciative and so neil, the same sweet neil you’d known since you were young.

“forget your lunch again, neil?” you’d grin. “i bet you could recite the seventh seal word by word but forget if you brushed your teeth this morning.” “you wound me!” he’d press a hand to his heart, theatrically pretending he’d gotten stabbed, “you don’t have to bet— i can recite the seventh seal word by word.”

🎬 when his washer broke, and he was too busy to get it fixed, you offered to wash his laundry for him. obviously, the thought of you handling his clothes — his intimates — had him mortified, so he suggested he just come over to yours and put a load in instead. still, the day dissolved into the two of you folding your laundry side by side, humming nostalgic tunes alongside your handheld radio.

“oh, god, change the station,” he’d groan, haphazardly tossing one of his newly rolled up tube socks into a plastic laundry bin. “hm? how come?” you questioned absently. “they’re playing that song, y’know— from homecoming?” “when that girl -- what was her name, again? -- dumped you?” “ugh, don’t remind me and please, just change it already!”

🎬 with adulthood came change, and honestly, the two of you didn’t get to see each other as often as you wanted, so neil proposed that you spend at least one night a week eating dinner together. once, you decided to cook instead of eating out, but neil got impatient. he wandered over to your figure in the kitchen, whining that he was about to keel over and die since you were taking so long. you rolled your eyes, but relented, holding up the wooden spoon and letting him taste-test, asking if it was too salty or too sweet. maybe it was because he was hungry, or your food was something so nostalgic and familiar to him, but he absolutely melted at the taste, singing praises the entire night.

🎬 sometimes you & neil’s movie-nights would drift off a little too late into the night, and the two of you would fall asleep on his couch together. you’d wake up, a strained, uncomfortable tangle of limbs and blankets, but you still felt right at home— snug against neil’s warm body, his familiar scent clinging to your skin.

🎬 since neil rarely got out of the house, you made it your mission to expose that man to the sunlight as much as possible; you didn't exactly want your bestfriend to get jaundice because he was binge-watching humphrey bogart's entire filmography for days in a row. you’d take him everywhere and anywhere: the two of you would go to the sunday farmers market downtown, looking at all the booths and tents laid out, buying fresh fruit and vegetables as opposed to, what you called, “overpriced, super-market big-box store garbage”, to which, neil would say, “is this a dig at me? because you know i’m terrible at grocery shopping, i cant help buying whatever’s easiest!”

🎬 other days, you’d walk in the park side by side, taking in the fresh air and throwing bread at ducks despite the DO NOT FEED THE DUCKS sign in bright yellow, snickering like school children.

“that one looks just like you,” you’d giggle, pointing at a particularly ugly looking one, flailing about in the water and splashing its siblings. “hardy-har, that’s very funny,” neil snorted, pushing you playfully. “jokes on you, it’s probably just like the ugly duckling.” “poor neil, is this your way of telling me you were switched at birth?”

🎬 sometimes, the two of you would sneak on top of your work building’s roof and, well, people-watch, picking a random person and dictating what you thought they were doing that day.

neil pointed at a lady wearing a furry wolf costume, and you filled in what you thought. “oh, oh, she’s going to her kids' birthday! the guy they hired to be a wolf didn’t show up, so mom decided to do it herself.” “good on her, but i don’t think it's her kids birthday she’s going to…” he trailed off, and you looked at him confused, before he gestured to the fur-suit-wearing woman entering a strip club. “huh,” you’d blink, “kinky.”

🎬 despite the confidence he projects at gumshoe video, considering he dresses up in some silly costume every week, the guy is absolutely terrified at booking his own appointments. it doesn't matter what it is, dental or medical or even a haircut, he stumbles and hangs up at the slightest rise of panic within him. its funny the first few times, but you could not deal with it anymore after he was sick with something he “didn’t know” because he was too nervous to call his doctor. you booked the first few, but then you taught him, shoving the phone in his hand and pantomiming what to do silently in front of him.

“uh, um, i’d like to book my - my-“ neil froze, mind going blank. you smacked your forehead lightly in exasperation, then pretended to inject yourself with a needle. “my, um, routine-- routine vaccinations!”

🎬 it took a few tries, but he finally got the hang of it— a big achievement on his part, but your number’s still hooked up to his dentist, so you have to remind him every time that he has to book his cleaning.

Nothing about your love has changed, not a single thing from back then, and honestly, maybe you loved him the whole time. Thought there certainly is a more romantic tone to your relationship now…

🎬 waking up next to neil might be one of the sweetest sights you’ve ever seen. usually, it’s him who wakes up first— he’s a light sleeper, while you sleep like the dead. your eyes flutter open, and there he is, piercing blue eyes drifting past your every feature. his gaze is tense and consuming but tender and loving all at once; you feel like he’s seeing through you, but it's in a good way-- you want to bare your heart on your sleeve for him because he does it for you. his hands are smooth on your side, holding you close, and he brings one up to cradle your face when he notices you’re awake.

“goodmorning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “morning, you little creep,” you grin against his skin, “do you watch me every morning?” he rolled his eyes, “not every morning… i can’t when you go to work early, obviously.”

🎬 your wedding is the funniest thing you’re ever experienced. sure, most people want it to be beautiful and perfect, but you were content with anything— hell, neil could’ve married you with just his cardboard cutout of ingrid bergman as the sole witness and you’d still swoon. it’s funny because your families have this chemical energy about them when they’re together— they get along like a house on fire, and it’s just, seriously, seriously chaotic. all your friends being there doesn’t help either, especially when you were 99% sure your other best friend, violet, was pickpocketing the plus-ones you didn’t know.

“is that your aunt, or my cousin’s girlfriend?” neil asked in a whisper, taking a large bite of your red-velvet wedding cake. “i’m not sure…” you knit your brows, “but that is lucien asking for her number.”

🎬 you had gotten sick before with neil knowing before, obviously, but living with him while you’re sick means he makes it his personal mission to cater to your every need. he supplies you with dozens of pillows and blankets if you’re chilly, and will just as quickly fling them across the room if you break out a sweat. he’s by your side the whole time, even though you protest and fume that he’ll get sick too, but he says he doesn’t care, not when the love of his life is suffering. he’s so devoted to you, and it gets downright irritating at times like these, but you can’t deny how warm being showered in his love feels; being taken care of, doted on, his wide blue eyes peering into you for any sign of discomfort at all so he can quickly fix it.

just a single could i have some water? and neil’s hauling a thirty-six pack of plastic bottles into your bedroom. “just in case,” he pants, “dehydration’s a big problem when you’re sick, okay?!”

🎬 this man is a fiend!!! for spooning. little spoon or big spoon, he does not care okay maybe he likes being the little spoon a lil bit more he just adore having you near him. when he’s the big spoon, he pulls you real close, your face in the crook of his neck as he pets the back of your head gently, your arms wrapping around his waist. it’s the perfect angle because he gets to see your darling beautiful eyes looking up at him in the way you know he folds for every time. when he’s the little spoon, hes wastes no time in curling up against you, his head resting on your chest. theres just something so comforting about the position, be it your hands running through his brown locks, your legs hooked over his, or how his hands come up under your shirt and make you shiver, but you let it happen anyway, because you know how much he loves feeling your warmth under his fingertips.

🎬 neil is terrible, downright terrible at cooking… but he is a genius when the oven mitts come out! his silly little cinephile brain apparently made ample enough space for him to hone his baking skills, and when he’s not working or watching movies or cuddling with you, he’s in the kitchen, flour unknowingly on his face as he beats the living hell out of some poor egg whites.

“c’mere,” you usher him over, your eyes crinkling at his state: he was wearing a frilly hot-pink tartan apron with a heart-shaped chest — a gag gift you got him last christmas— while he piped chocolate ganache frosting on cupcakes. he drifted over to you absently, eyes still trained on the treats. they snapped straight over to you however, when you leaned in, presumably to give him a kiss, and instead darted your tongue out to lick the frosting on his cheek. “hey!” he gasped, face flushing as he scrambled to wipe away the saliva on his face. “you could’ve just said you wanted a taste.” “wouldn’t get such a cute reaction though, now would i?” you winked.

🎬 when a song comes on that doesn’t bubble up traumatic juvenile memories, you’re quick to clasp neil’s hand on your own, letting the music take you wherever, be it in your kitchen or at gumshoe video.

“dance with me,” you said, like it was a question, but already pulling neil up by the arm off your livingroom couch. your arms hooked around his neck as his hands rested softly on your waist, a familiar and comforting pressure on the flesh as you two swayed back and forth in tune to the music. “do we have a song?” you wondered, shifting your feet on the hardwood floor and looking up at him through your lashes. “the one from our wedding, probably,” he answered, “but this can be it if you want.” it’s some song you’ve never heard before, but its a good one, something you both like. “sure,” you murmur, turning to the side and resting your head on his chest as he pulled you close, swaying still. “i love you,” you said suddenly, and you heard neil let out a soft exhale of breath. “i love you, too. i think marrying you was the best thing i ever did.” “i think letting the weird new kid sit next to me at lunch was the best thing i ever did.”

All in all, married life with Neil is a dream, and entirely what you expected: you understand him like you do breathing. this love for him is innate, ingrained within you, and you know its the same for him— the love he’s shown you this whole time is the same pure thing, a tender and married adoration.

You know your husband so well you swear you could pick him out of a group by heartbeat alone; how it skips and stutters at the sound of your voice, how his heart pumps with a love only he can provide. There’s no-one else but Neil for you-- no one.

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis headcanons #neil lewis fluff

445 notes · View notes

blanketforcas · 3 months ago

Text

raffle: shellfish lover for clean amazon water

excuse my cringy title lol. it is what it is!

I’ve been looking at the Amazon Watch fundraiser Misha and Alex set up, and I think we can do even better. So I thought of doing a mini raffle :)

It's pretty straightforward: if you can show me proof of donation (15 dollars or more) (don't forget to censor your name on the screenshot of the email though)

you will get the chance to:

make a song suggestion for either a cockles, jensen, or misha centric amv (i'll use at least 1 min of the song, unless the song is shorter)

The song choice can be comedic, meta, or more sappy/romantic

I'm not sure if there's any interest in this but this is what I can do with the spoons I have atm. (please note that I can only start making these at the end of august)

If you want to participate, just shoot me a DM!

If there's more than like, 3 people I guess, I'll stick to the original plan of a mini raffle. If not, I'll just take the suggestions I got and get creating ✨

#cockles #misha collins #.. not gonna tag jensen lol too much of a mixed crowd in that tag #anyway yeah hiii pls reblog if you can #i would've done destiel but i'm just more fascinated (creatively and amv wise) by the actor men atm. tragic #i'm also open to general meta ideas re the whole topic of fandom/fandom vs show/actors #btw if you've already donated - that also counts

101 notes · View notes

orchidsangel · 11 months ago

Note

struggling terribly atm, just need comfort with jason i just need to be in his arms!! (´＿｀)

i'm so sorry lumi, i hope things get better for you soon. sending lots of love to you honey <33 this is...not good :( but hopefully it will bring some semblance of comfort

A thud comes from your bedroom, followed by heavy boots shuffling around which you presume is Jason placing your trinkets back on the windowsill like he does every night when he comes in through the window next to your bed instead of the one in your living room. And just like every night, he’ll walk to your side of the bed to place a kiss on your forehead before slipping out of his gear and quietly joining you. Tonight, you aren’t in bed, and when he walks over to the spot you usually occupy, he’s met with an unwrinkled sheet, indicative that no one had touched it in hours.

Sleep had slipped through your fingers once again. Yet another sun had set and risen without you closing your eyes for anything more than a blink. You could practically feel the bags forming, a result of the combination of tears you’d shed and insomnia you hadn’t been able to shake for days. So, there you lay on the couch in the dark, too unmotivated to move beyond pulling the blanket further around your shoulders to combat the cold atmosphere of your apartment.

The sound of your name comes from a distance, followed by an “is everything alright?” and you can picture the worried look on your sweet boyfriend's face as he calls for you. He treads down the short hallway until he gets to you, curled into yourself on the couch. A warm hand reaches curls under your waist and you feel yourself getting pulled upright with ease. It takes him one look at you before he’s wrapping his arms around your body and whispering, “it’s okay.” against your head; but you can’t talk, can’t move, can’t do anything except quietly let a few tears slip past your eyes onto his jacket. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, and you shake your head against his chest, breathing in his scent; a comforting mixture of leather and gunpowder, something you never wanted to forget.

It’s a few minutes before he opens his mouth again, a quiet, “is there anything I can do?” comes out. Steady, but you can hear the concern; and you shift against him, lifting your head to look up at his face. You confirm your suspicions when you see how his brow furrows at your tear stained cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you say, looking down again, unable to let him see you like this for more than a few seconds. “Can you just-” you suck in a shaky breath. “Can you just hold me… For a little while?” He doesn’t answer, but you feel his arms tighten around you, drawing you closer, surrounding you in warmth and lulling you to sleep with each passing moment until the sun is fully risen, lighting up the sky while you’re just now seeing darkness.

#☆ messages from friends ☆#☆ lumi ☆#jason todd i’ll love you forever #jason todd x reader #divider by cafekitsune

186 notes · View notes

thedaughersofferrix · 2 years ago

Text

Birthdays

(work is not nsfw, but this blog is generally intended to be 18+)

synopsis: cal forgets about his birthday. you don't.

pairing: cal kestis x gn! reader

content warnings: pining, fluff, reader is a jedi

word count: 1.5k

a/n: something short and sweet to say happy jedi survivor release everybody. game looks amazing & i'm so happy to see cal again. might be a part 2, but i'm not sure atm

if cal kestis has a million fans, then i'm one of them. if cal kestis has one fan, then i'm them. if cal kestis has no fans, that means i'm dead.

Cal decided that fighting the Empire would be a priority in his life five years ago.

After he destroyed the holocron so the force-sensitive children in the galaxy could live in peace, that was his vow.

The Mantis crew got to work; blowing up Haxion Brood bases and wiping out legions of stormtroopers at a time. The fight thrilled him and every battle only left him in anticipation of the next.

It got to the point where he struggled to think of anything but the fight. Every thought was the next move, their wrongs and the perpetrators. The scars, the injuries and the losses continued and Cal never wavered.

He knew it was an obsession, but he just couldn’t help it. It was a need, etched into his soul and a part of his identity. His was Cal Kestis. The rebel Jedi, the most wanted man in the Empire. And the most dangerous.

Then he met you.

Well, he met you again, because he’d met you years ago, back when the temple on Coruscant was a Jedi temple. When Master Tapal was alive and little Cal’s mind couldn’t even fathom an Empire taking everything from him.

You’d been his crèche-mate and friend, long before either of you had been padawans.

In between lessons, you would spar or lounge in the dining hall, where most of the other younglings liked to loiter. He formed a puppy-love crush on you that made his Master chuckle. It’s only natural, Cal. The feelings will fade with time. He has half-right, Cal supposes.

He remembers vividly the last time he saw you when he and Master Tapal were minutes away from loading onto a cruiser with their clone troops. Thinking back, he’s embarrassed by how hesitant he was to leave you.

Don’t get all sentimental about this, you told him wisely. We’ll see each other when we get back.

It was so hard to tell himself you were dead.

Cal Kestis was the last living Jedi, fighting against the Empire that deemed his kind a traitor and punished them for crimes they never committed.

You had died, so had your master and so had everyone else he once knew. That had been difficult for him to accept.

Merrin and Cere understood the pain and that helped, at times. Though sometimes he didn’t want to understand. He wanted to see you, feel your arms embracing him and hear your voice in his ear. He didn’t talk about you to them though. He wanted something for himself, a little what-if to hold on to during the nights he felt particularly melancholic.

Then came his trip to Segra Milo, to speak with Saw Gerrera about his next move.

By that point, the Partisans recognised him on sight and offered him only a nod of acknowledgement when he passed by.

There you were, in all your glory. Older, a bit more rough around the edges (like himself) and even more attractive than you’d been about nine years ago.

When the two of you locked eyes and time bowed at your feet, to allow you both this moment of silent disbelief.

“Cal?” you had whispered. He whispered your name back and you smiled widely.

You embraced him like he had been so desperate for you to do. And he heard your voice, the one that had previously only reached him in dreams.

“I thought you died,” you told him.

“I thought you died,” he said, in a single breath. Emotion threatened to explode from his chest until Saw Gerrera cleared his throat.

“I hate to break up this lover’s reunion,” he said. “But we do have a war to fight.”

“Tonight,” you whispered into his ear and he felt like a padawan with a crush again.

Sure enough, the two of you made a rendezvous under the moonlight. The cavernous, dangerous terrain of Segra Milo felt so inviting that night.

You explained to him that you and your master had been ambushed by your own troopers. You and your master were separated when they received the orders and by luck, you weren’t the one in a room full of clones. Quietly you found an escape pod and left for the nearest planet. You cut your padawan braid and disassembled your lightsaber on the same day. The kyber crystal that powered it hung from your neck, hidden behind layers of clothing.

“One day I watched them string up a man for dropping his drink on a trooper's foot,” you recalled to him. “They claimed he had done it as an act of civil disobedience and that it was anti-Imperial activity. I rebuilt my lightsaber and started looking for the Rebellion the same day.”

You were the same person he remembered, only better. Now you were stronger and smarter, without losing your humanity.

The next day, you were separated again. You were travelling to Devaron to provide the Partisans there with support. He tried to go with you, but you sagely reminded him of the danger of two Jedi being found together.

You exchanged comm links the night prior and hugged tightly before you boarded your ship and he the Mantis. It reminded him of the one you gave him before what he thought had been your demise. He prayed he wouldn’t have to remember this hug the same way.

“Until next time, Cal,” you said, hopeful and bright.

“Until then,” he replied, leaving you with a smile.

The next time he saw you, he thinks he might have hugged you tighter than he’d ever hugged anyone.

There had been a next time, he thought. There could be another one.

And there was. In fact, there had been many next times. He couldn’t count on his hands how many times he had gotten to see you. On the good days, you spoke and drank together. On the days, you fought and mourned together. But you were together and it was so much easier than it had been before.

Recently he’d probably gone the longest without seeing you, which made him realise the effect you had on him.

The Empire was still are the forefront of his mind, almost always. It consumed his actions and words. Slowly but surely, however, you had been weaselling your way into an important position in his life.

He didn’t care about the Empire when he was looking at you and he may as well have not met an Inquisitor when he’s hearing your laugh. You were there and he didn’t need to think about any of that.

Then, when the gap you filled was empty again with your departure, he was consumed by the need to fight once more.

He forewent sleep and food, only collapsing when his body refused to preserve and eating when the hunger pangs came. Fight, fight, fight, was all he could think about. It never really occurred to him to celebrate his victories or even do simple things, like check the date.

But you returned to him again and reminded him of what he was missing.

“A win like this is worth sitting down for,” you insisted, sitting beside him at the fire. “Besides, today is special.” His brow furrowed.

“What’s today?” he asked you, which made you laugh, loud and beautiful.

“You can’t be serious, Cal.”

“I am! What’s today?”

“Cal,” you sighed. “It’s your birthday.”

His mind went blank as the gears started to turn. “Oh,” was what he came up with. You laughed at him again.

“Did you really forget?” you asked him.

“I haven’t celebrated it in years,” he admitted and you frowned, making him wish he lied. He hated it when you frowned, though you did make a cute face when you were angry.

“Well we’ll have to make up for that, won’t we?” you announced, standing from your seat and downing your drink. “Stay here for a second.” He nodded and you slipped away.

You returned not long after, with something behind your back.

“Close your eyes,” you instructed. He looked at you curiously. “Just do it.” His eyes fell shut. He heard you shuffling and muttering something to BD-1. “Put out your hands.” He open one palm and pushed it toward you. “Both of them.” He opened the other. He felt a weight in his left hand, then in his right.

“Open.”

Cal was greeted by a cupcake in his left hand and a multitool in his left.

“I tried to find a cake, but apparently Devaronians aren’t very fond of them,” you explained. “And this,” you pointed to the multitool. “I bought this for you back on Corellia, but you were gone before I could give it to you. It’s got everything you need to keep Beedee in working order.” BD-1 chirped happily at that.

Cal was starstruck. He hadn’t experienced softness like this since before the Clone Wars. Suddenly his chest felt fuzzy and his face was hot.

“Thank you,” he managed. “No problem,” you answered breezily.

He shared some of the cupcake with you, but you insisted he had to eat at least seventy per cent of it. The multitool found a place on his belt, though with the amount of combat he saw, he’d be using it soon.

You sat beside him at the fire on his birthday and Cal Kestis felt hope again in a way like he’d never felt before. Hope for not just the present, but the future.

#cal kestis #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x you #cal kestis x y/n #star wars x reader #star wars jedi: survivor #star wars #star wars fanfiction

757 notes · View notes