#and as you are attempting to pry the rock from your brain's mouth you go. oh? i used to feel like this all the time? huh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamauri · 2 years ago

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♪ — 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗥𝗘𝗗 dark!soft!max verstappen x fem! reader (angst / yandere, smut) “. . . you belong to max. you are his world. its his turn to be yours.”

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

How did it come to this?

You felt him twirling you as you danced together. Although you couldn't feel or control your body, you were moving, dancing even. Your brain was screaming and your heart was racing as Max pulled you in his chest softly.

You felt yourself slump in his his hold as he wrapped his arms around you waist, holding you close as his head dipped in your neck. You couldn't fight back. Why couldn't you?

"It's kicking in already? Hmm?" He whispered, licking up your neck and ear, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume and shampoo. Your legs were giving out and your vision was hazy. "I got you, lieveling. Let's go home." [darling]

By the time you were conscious again you knew it was too late. The last thing you remember was sharing a drink with your co-worker, Max Verstappen, during an after party. As to how you come to be in this situation you could not tell.

"You need to eat." He insisted with an angry sigh. You could only shrink further into the cold wall in protest, your knees pressing to your body to preserve the ounce of dignity you have left.

"Y/N, please. I'm being nice." He tried again, holding up the rice filled spoon. You huffed, closing your eyes and turning your head away. "Why do you have to be like this?" He growled, hand grabbing your bicep harshly.

Your bare skin prevented you from sliding on the floor. Toppling over, your knees on the floor were no longer covering your bare chest. Out of instinct, you tried to bring your arms to cover yourself only to be reminded of the handcuffs holding your hand behind your back.

Grabbing your jaw harshly, Max pressed his thumb in your mouth, prying your lips and teeth open. He force fed you dinner same way he's been doing for two nights now.

Although the taste felt like bliss due to your apparent malnutrition, you were terrified from the person feeding you. Giving in to your stomach, you hesitantly opened your mouth taking the next bite on your own.

"Good girl." You heard Max praised as you swallowed. He pulled you in his lap, your back to his chest as he continued feeding you and it felt humiliating. Tears were flowing down yours cheeks and you chocked on sobs with each bite.

Max pressed kisses to your neck once you finished, wrapping his arms around your stomach in an attempt to comfort you. You could only cry as he rocked you gently, shushing you quietly.

You wanted to feel the sun on your skin again and see your family once more. But you were stuck, with Max Verstappen.

"Wanna go home." You begged between sobs, feeling your body shake. "This is home." Max asserted, brushing your hair out of your face, stroking your hip. "Home is anywhere but with you." You could feel Max's anger meter go up hearing your words that you oh so regret spilling from your mouth.

Standing up abruptly, he dragged you away from your ankle. "Please no." You tried, pulling on your ankle with no avail. He dumped your body in his bedroom in front of the mirror. "You have nothing if it's not with me." He pinned your head to the ground before you could attempt to escape your fate.

Unlike you, Max was clothed. He pulled his sweatpants down, pulling his dick out. You could only whimper and beg for mercy under him. The stretch was painful, too painful for you to handle.

Crying his name was not enough to satisfy him. Neither was begging. He didn't stop pushing till he was completely in. Pulling you up on your knees, he held you from under your jaw, forcing you too look in the mirror. "Mijn liefje, you fit me perfectly. There is no one else for you but me and no one else for me but you."

Holding you back from your forearms, Max began with his thrusts. "You're so tight." He groaned, lips attaching to the skin on your neck as your back arched. "I'm your home now, Y/N. What more do I have to do to prove it to you?" Feeling yourself squirm, you did your best to resist as the pain only increased.

You squeeze your eyes shut, toes curling as whimpers fell from your mouth. "Y/N, my love. Relax." He whispered in your ear, hand trailing down your stomach finding your clit. An involuntary moan left your lips as you wriggled in attpempt to free yourself. "I don't want to hurt you. You have to relax."

How could you relax in a moment like this?

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"Slower." You begged. "Slower." He nodded obeying. You couldn't fight back, your coil was tightening as he trusted us into you, eyes scanning your body like a prize he earned. "You feel so good, schat. So perfect." He praised, involuntarily picking up the pace again.

"Max. Slower." You whined leaning your head down, squeezing your eyes shit. "I know my love. I'm almost there. Please." The hands on your hips pulled you down to meet his thrusts as you rode him, your fourth orgasm crushing you.

A whimper fell from your mouth as you leaned your head on his chest, body feeling limp while he continued pushing. "Almost there, I'm so close." He kissed the skin on your shoulder, finally arriving to own his release.

"Oh, lieveling." He groaned, finishing off with a few more thrusts. "Such a good girl." He praised pressing kisses to your jaw and cheek. Pulling put and laying you on your back, Max pressed a finger in your core gently. "Don't waist a single drop." You could only gasp and whine when he occasionally curled his finger.

THUD

You both snapped your head to the foreign sound. While a look of fear covered your face, a look of anger covered Max's. Picking you up bridal style, Max set you in the bathtub of the ensuite bathroom. "I need you to say right here." He kissed you softly before locking the door from the inside before closing it behind him.

You didn't know what was happening outside, but it included gunshots and that scared you. You could only flinch with each fired bullet, curling up on yourself and closing your eyes.

It must've been police or something finally finding you right. It would mean freedom would it not? But on the other hand, you felt something burn in your chest at the idea of Max being on the receiving end of the gun.

It went dangerously quiet. Too quiet. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you climbed on your shaky legs. Exiting the en-suit and the bedroom. You peaked down the stairs. The part of the house you've never been to since you arrived.

"Hello?" Who were you checking on? Your savior or your ward? "Y/N, I told you to stay inside." A sigh of relief found its way to his ears as he moved into your frame of sight. Now you understood why he told you to stay away, he was bathed in blood, running down his bare chest and soaking in the sweat pants he put on in a hurry. There were two nasty looking bullet holes in his right bicep.

"Oh my God." You panicked starting to de-mount the stairs. "No No. Stay right there." He point at you, making you freeze in place. "There's glass all over the floor and I don't want you to walk in it. I'll come to you." He slowly moved through the floor till he reached the stairs climbing up to you and turning you back around.

"Let's go." He winced gently guiding you back up stairs. You sat outside the bathtub as he sat under the current of water, letting the blood wash away. You were crying again. Why are you crying so much?

"No no no, my love." Max cooed as he reached for you pulling you in a hug with his good arm. You could only lean into him as you sobbed. Someone was dead downstairs because of you. The thought haunted you and you could only go to Max for comfort.

"No one can hurt you. No can take you away from me." He assured pulling away and wiping your tears. "I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise." "B-But you're hurt." You reasoned looking at his bleeding arm. Would he ever be able to race again?

Why did you care? He could burn in hell for all you cared.

"I'd go through anything for you, my love." And you believed him. You climbed in beside him, cuddling into his side as he wrapped his good arm around you. You sat there like a few minutes, calming down from the past events.

"Why don't you go take a nap my love." He suggested. He wanted to clean up and didn't want you to see. "I want to help, with that." You gestured to his injured arm, seeing him struggle before. "I got it. It's ok-" "-please."

A moment of silence dawned in the room as Max searched your eyes for any fault, but he found none. Helping you tuck your legs through your arms, you helped Max pull out the bullets and clean him up using the limited first aid knowledge you had.

"Thank you, darling." He kissed your forehead as he helped scrub the blood off your arms and body. You couldn't take your eyes of his concentrate ocean ones, trying to understand him.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You sat a few stairs up as you watched Max mop the ceramic floor free of the thick red liquid. That you did not want to help with. "You hungry?" You nodded hesitantly. "You want . . . Take out?" You thought for a second before nodding again.

And so, you sat curled up between Max's legs, eating pizza hut. The first meal in weeks in which you were eating on your own.

The two of you were sitting on the floor, leaning on the bedframe watching some classic movie that you didn't bother concentrating with. "How are you going to race?" You asked out of no where.

"I'll figure something out for us, my dear." He caressed the back of your head gently pressing a kiss to your forehead. "All I need you to do is relax and stay here. I'll take care of the rest."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A pained moan left your mouth as pushed yourself up. Falling off the bed, your forced yourself on your feet, dragging yourself with all the speed you could muster to the bathroom. Max was quick to try and catch you, but he was proven your innocence watching you empty the contents of your stomach.

A frown fell on his face as kneeled down next to you, rubbing your back softly as he brushed your hair out of your face and behind your neck. You didn't know why you were crying, but you were. And for some reason, Max's attempts for comfort weren't bad as they used to be.

He wiped your mouth clean with a wet towel, setting you on the counter to catch your breath. "Does your throat hurt?" You shook your head. "Does your stomach hurt?" You shook your head again. "Maybe it's a fever."

Your temperature was fine, and your pulse was fine. Only one thing was missing. "It's been what, two weeks late. Maybe that's why?" "What?" You stuttered confused, eyebrows furrowing.

No. It can't be.

"Your period. I'll go out and buy something. Stay here and rest. I'll be right back." He kissed your temple before making his exit. You can't be pregnant. You just couldn't. You could not have a baby in these conditions. Not this house. Not with Max. This isn't how you wanted your life to go.

You chest began to heave again as you sat between Max's legs being fed ice-cream. Every time you glanced to where the positive pregnancy test laid on the vanity you just couldn't hold yourself together, gently accepting another spoonful as Max rubbed your back comfortingly.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You want kiwi? Where am i going to get kiwi?" "Please." You whined holding his arm with a desperate face. "The baby wants it." That always did the trick for you. "I'll— . . . I'll get kiwi." He nodded sighing, kissing your temple making you sigh in relief.

It hasn't even been two months and you were going haywire. "And blue berries? Please?" "And blue berries." He added to his list raising his eyebrows. Max has slowly been preparing for the arrival of the soon to be coming baby and you could tell he was exited. As mentioned before, you were haywire, so you couldn't really tell if you were exited to have max around with the baby or not.

"I'll be back in an hour or so. Please don't do anything stupid." He told you firmly, pocketing his keys and wallet. You could only raise your cuffed wrists in reply. "I have no other choice." You joked making him chuckle. "I'll see you soon, love." "sure."

You sighed sitting on the couch in your room quietly. There was nothing to do around here. Not even clean or do chores because Max saw you as "too divine" to be doing such hassle work. You listened to music, passed time watching movies, bored out of your mind as you painted your own nails to entertain yourself.

"Chili sounds really good right now." You nodded to your not born baby. And so, you found yourself steering the meat and the tomato sauce in the kitchen, humming a melody that was stuck in your head.

"Your naked." You practically had a heart attack, turning around to face the intruder. A woman, younger than you but old enough. Nice blond hair and gorgeous green eyes.

"You're pregnant too." She furrowed her eyebrows looking at your belly. "And handcuffed. I knew it— what are you doing here." Her face turned sour really fast. You couldn't quite put q finger on her but you felt a sense of danger and hostility radiating off of her.

"Who are you?" Venom leaked through her words as she stepped forward. You took a step back, covering your small belly bump out of instinct. What did this crazy woman want from you?

You broke out in a run towards the stairs, aiming for your safe spot. "No you don't." She caught you real quick. You couldn't help but cry as you fell, doing your best to push her off of you.

"Max is mine. Why would he want to be with a slut like you?" She was frustrated, clearly she didn't know Max Verstappen's true colors. "Look at you. You're just a pathetic bitch." You could only cry as you tried to protect yourself.

Your that's were running wild as you tried to wrestle yourself free. Your mind clearing once you heard the front door click. "Max!" You never thought you'd be calling that name in such a situation.

But deep down know he'd always be there for you.

It wasn't much after you were sitting in the backyard, bathing in the moonlight. "Sweetheart." Max broke you out of trance as he came outside to sit beside you on a chair while you took refuge on the grass near his feet. You found yourself snuggling into Max's legs, leaning your head on his thighs as he slowly peeled a kiwi for you.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, lieveling." He sighed feeling disappointed in himself as he hand fed you gently. You could only sigh as you took smile bites, looking at the shirtless and bloodied man, cupping his hand over the lighter to start the flame to his cigarette.

You turned your body to face him, watching him take deep breaths of the nicotine as his hand gently brushed your hair from your eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'll be more careful, for you and for our family." He promised holding you chin gently, plucking the cigar out of his mouth before he leaned down and kissing you.

You let him kiss you instead of struggling or pulling away like you usually do, enjoying the taste of smoke on his tongue. Something changed in him. Or maybe, something changed in you. The way you saw him wasn't the same anymore. Watching him rescue you from that mad woman this morning, watching him beat her up with the baseball bat he kept at the front door.

Blood splattering on his body which each swing, pulling her off of you and dragging her out to deal with her.

Watching him protect you like that. It just- a switch was flipped, you didn't see him the same. You closed your eyes as Max stroked your cheek gently with his thumb, pressing a soft kiss to his bare thigh.

You could hear the smile spread on his cheek as he continued to hand feed you, gently and lovingly. And you enjoyed it.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"M—" You cut yourself off felling your self gasp for air, gripping onto the strong hands that wrapped around you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt empty, sheets wet.

"What's wrong?" He groggily woke up, turning around to turn the lamp on. Red, the cream coloured bed sheets were blood red. "No no no no." You cried covering your mouth as sobs filled the room. Pulling the sheets off gently, Max knew what this meant.

He sat up gently holding his head on his hands as he tried to collect himself. Only moments later did he pick you up and set you in the bathtub, doing his best to comfort you with kisses as he washed you clean from the horrid colour.

"I'm so sorry, Max. I'm so sorry." "It wasn't your fault, liefje." He assired caressing your head as he pressed his forehead to yours. "But you w—were so exited and I took that away from you." "You didn't do anything wrong." He kissed you gently, running his soap filled hands along your thighs and tummy. "It wasn't you fault."

You laid quietly on his lap, leaning on his chest as he scrubbed and cleaned your hair with shampoo. Shaky shighs rocked your chest as he gently set you on the edge of the tub, drying you, and for the first time dressing you.

He gently slipped up panties for you, sticking a pad on and help you pull them up. You leaned on his shoulder as he stroked your bare back gently, brushing your hair and braiding it for the night. He knew you had fallen asleep by the time your breaths were even.

Max carried you to the couch, making it as comfortable for you as possible, sleeping on floor beside you. When you woke up the morning, you were surprised to see your hands not pulling each other in different directions, and you had a shirt on. When was the last time you had a shirt on. shuffling on your other side, you saw max sitting on the floor beside you, passed out.

Two warm cups of team. You took one, sitting beside Max, leaning your head on his shoulder as you took short sips. "You want to go hike?" He yawned, leaning his head on top of yours, lifting your cup to take a small sip. "I want to see the sun."

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"No, no let me go." You wriggled and struggled against the cops that held you back. Sobs came from your mouth as you saw Max put in more effort to free himself, but it was all futile, he was handcuffed and being forced into the police car.

"Only you, darling. Only you, babe." You promised, crying as the law enforcers tried to calm you down. "Only you, Max."

Of course this wasn't the last time you were going to see him. Living with Max for so long has sparked something in you. He's rubbed off on you. He's changed something in you that no one else could or should have.

In the time with you, Max created a monster. One where you would drag a katana behind you as you walked down the bloody hall, licking your fingers clean from the red liquid as you looked through each jail cell, searching for your blond lover.

"There you are." You whispered as you looked at Max, blue eyes waiting for you behind the bars, staring at you intently. "I missed you. Lets go see the sun, together."

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qtipcottonbuds · 3 years ago

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𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙏𝙊𝘽𝙀𝙍 ‘𝗢𝟳 ; 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙐𝙆𝘼𝙄 [SOMNOPHILIA]

another requested slot TOP OF TA MORNIN’ the brain rot, I AM THEE OMEGA this has given me; just, i hope you enjoy my moot THE AMBALAMS COMING - u also sleep bottom half naked in this yes !!! (update, future qtips is lookin at this like mf what-)

warnings ;; mild language, somnophilia, slight dom/sub elements etc !!!

by qtipcottonbuds 2021. do not repost.

𝗨𝗞𝗔𝗜 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

Rutting up against the underside of your ass, boxers straining and tented, Kenshin tugs at the fat of your neck, teeth hooking around the skin, sucking softly, enough to mark but not enough to break the flesh; gripping tightly into your hips, fingers digging into the fat to ground himself. Shit, you looked so… there was just something carnal, perverted, when it came to the thought of you sleeping soundly, unaware and unassuming, all cute, vulnerable. That was it. The vulnerability of helpless, little you - the thought, motions, would never fail to leave him flushed, fattening up in his pants, shifting awkwardly side to side whilst working shifts in his grandfather's shop.

Tugging down his boxers, heavy cock bobbing at the movement, veins engorged, smearing the curved head against the supple of your ass, almost territorial in the way the precum excessively smeared and dirtied your skin, so fucking hot, before then prying down your underwear, slotting himself in between your thighs.

One large palm hooks around the expanse of your thigh, you still resting deeply, pulling it softly to the side, wide enough for Kenshin to fully push himself inside of you, hissing at the contact of his cockhead catching on the rim, still wet, caked in cum; drunk on the feeling of your warmth, sloppily kissing, licking and soothing over his previous lovebites decorated across your back.

“Fuck, oh fuck baby, shit-”

But, it doesn’t take long for the repetitive motions of Kenshin’s gentle rocking to jolt you awake, blearily taking in your surroundings, reaching out awkwardly behind you, attempting to hold onto him - confused from the way moans and hums openly leave you, “What… what’s going on?” voice raspy from sleep.

“M’sorry baby, I just- fuck, you’re so tight, shit, love- love the way you feel around me, feels so, so good-” Kenshin is mindlessly rambling now, rocking into you back and forth harshly, his fingers finding, stuffing his way into your mouth, trailing around your bottom lip, the pads of his fingers stroking across your tongue; you, woozily suckling on them, mewling.

#kinktober 2021 #kinktober #kinktober with qtipcottonbuds #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #ukai keishin #coach ukai #gender neutral character #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #ukai x gender neutral reader #ukai x male reader #ukai x female reader

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ficsnroses · 4 years ago

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𝑯𝒊𝒔 - 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜

johnny silverhand x fem! V [reader].

summary : johnny and you both want this, a physical exchange to feel relief.

warnings : smut, nsfw. rough unprotected sex. swearing. 2.5k words. no spoilers other than johnny’s status.

notes : something new! next to zero plot, just some good ol fucking each other’s brains out smut. I had a lot of fun writing this, might write some more fics for him if readers are interested. enjoy! feedback appreciated as always. also! i’d love to read some johnny fics if you have recommendations :)

She’s slipping away, day by day by day.

Exhilarating, exhausting. The steps under her feet hurt, they mock. With each dragged, littered breath trudged out her lips, she crumbles. Crumbles in what feels as if the boneyard of a dream; the debris of a reverie.

She hurts, she needs relief. Something temporary to match what swills inside.

Relief that would come in something more than amber kissed crystal glasses, something stronger than the wash of bitter liquor searing down her throat. Alcohol feats in her head- but so does he.

He feats in her head, he’s taking over. Day by day, by day.

“Hey highness, why don’t you make yourself useful and get more smokes.”

His voice comes in loud barrels, thuds of lightening that crash in her veins. It’s sharp, pronounced. Gravelly, a contrast, disparity to her quieter, mellower one- one that caused a ruckus to be heard for the entirety of her being, to be remembered.

Yet, it hadn’t gotten her far. She’d been far from what she’d dreamt.

Her voice, her quiet, broken voice that plead to be heard.

He stands crisp, muscled back brave against the cold metallic wall. Broken drags and hostile exhales haste out his throat, the tared smoke serving as a dire remembrance of what he used to be.

Real.

“Gonna move or what?” Strong, cynical. The tone he spits is rough, pessimistic. He’d come as a parasite, something humane no more, driven by a dream, a delusion. His delusion, he’d use her for. There’s no affliction in his voice, no compassion. His voice registers dimly through the rumble of her own agony.

Somewhere along blurred lines, parasitic growls became usual; anticipated.

It’s tough being angry at someone who hears you.

And somewhere along the dreary lines, he’d felt it too.

It’s tough being angry at someone who sees you. Sees someone, the world had long forgotten.

Her voice comes in sharp daggers, strident. “Shut up.” Long for relief brews in her nerves, threatens to overtake. Threatens to destruct. “Shut the fuck up for one second” She growls, a low huff under her breath. The burn is breaking her, the yearn scorches inside long empty walls.

He knows too, he senses the deliberation inside her. He feels it in cold, chilled ghastly bones. He could help her, and she could help him, with something more than the mission at stake. Something sinfully bigger than the dream.

Something to feel human, again. He walks, a hologram that leaves louder, heavier steps than anyone she’d known prior. She feels a tingle; a twitch in her skin ignites, she feels a dark warmth.

It comes from him; it calls from his body.

“You’re an asshole. Nothing more.” She pierces, the toxins fall her lips, a desperate attempt to keep him away. Keep him out.

The drags of his steps thud louder in her head, the shift of his holographic form closer. There’s a hoarse gravel in his throat, something so negative, yet so familiar. So painfully familiar. He lives inside her, he’s all she’s began to remember. “Cigarettes make me feel something.” The cool air that stings the nape of her neck sends a shiver down her spine. “Something fucking real for once.”

“Fuck off.” She spits, avoiding a sworn intense gaze. Her stare in the abyss out the distant paned windows causes a churn in her mid, something sickening. A quiet realization falls, creeping.

“You’re taking over me.”

A chuckle off his mouth, a smirk curled to his thin taut lips. “We are bound.” He growls. “And I am owed.”

Chained; she reminds herself. You are chained, shackled to him.

“You’re owned nothing.” She grits. He watches the way she tenses, visibly burning.

In his hallow shell of a mind long forgotten, he’d undressed her a thousand times; watched the way she slept so vulnerably, thought of the way the threads that hug her body like a lover could peel off so easily. So sinfully. “Can’t help but wonder what this pretty pussy of yours could make me feel instead.” A growl emits his throat, stocked fingers finding their way palming thin fabric shielding her cunt from prying gaze.

And the touch that registered leaves her panting. His touch, something she’d never felt before, was real. He was real. This ghost that drowns in her every thought was existent as day, dark as night.

“You want me, as much as I want you.” His voice comes in drowned out waves; the long inside her body for something physical slowly enveloping. “Fucking say it.”

She dreams of relief, of release. She dreams of good, pleasure that could wash her lungs; quench the burn. She dreams of something more than the familiar scald of liquor sent in cascades down her throat. She dreams of something physical, something filthy to satiate relief.

Sex starved, she succumbs. Sex longing, he smirks, and smirks,

and smirks.

Stop, says her mind.

Go, haunts her body. Let him use you the way you’ve always wanted.

“Fuck me.” She mutters, breath rugged, crisp desperation rung on shade stained lips. “Fuck me. Now.” The words rip, long pent frustrations urge. He’s far too appealing, perfectly groomed beard and lengthy locks raven on his mane; toned muscles, cryptic bolded ink litter his skin. Deep-rooted ink bedecks his un robotic arm, and she sighs at the way his smirk induced lips crawl at her neck. Lingering kisses, gentle bites leaving faint purple bruises to her delicate skin;

Something about the way he speaks, the way his touch held the power of a million fucking bullets.

Unmatched, unprecedented.

Cold and stoic, his bionic hand plants to her chest, above the valley of perfectly plump breasts. Slowly, he guides, her body finding refuge on her bed covered in a sea of soft sheets and cottoned pillows. The same bed, where she knew he’d fuck her into oblivion, now that she’d asked.

A fire burns in his belly, a smoke that matches lustrous eyes roving and bulging pants. Through brown leather, the outline of his impressive cock causes a gulp in her throat, the anticipation tightening in her ached cunt, long yearned for the fruit of any friction. “Take everything off.” His shallow voice demands, and she watches the way he palms a throbbing cock shielded from her gaze.

Johnny was equipped, experienced; expert to say the least. He knew well how to please a woman, how to mix the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. If there’s one thing groupie affairs taught;

all pussy is good, but only few, came heavenly.

He’d known since he’d saw her, since their first encounter. There’d been no place he’d wanted to be buried guts deep, no place as tight, warm, inviting than her cunt. Her movements follow obliged, skimpy cloth and thin bottoms tugged off for his view. Amatory lace bottoms and a matching bra unhook through the brittle fingers of her hands; her eyes never leave him. The way his prying eyes dig into hers, piercing. He palms, and strokes, cold hands moving to unbuckle a heavy belt that falls to the floor with a dense thud.

In the chilled air of the futuristic room, a cold shiver pecks at her skin; inch by inch a warmth blazes inside. The anticipation of what Johnny would, could do to her. He could destroy her.

He could ruin her, with every thrust.

Much to his splendour, her bare breasts sit perfectly swollen on her chest, pert, hardened nipples vibrant with tint. Silky skin, perfectly dewy. She was a fucking goddess in her own right; a sex siren his cock pulses for, in dire need. A flush to her skin ignites, visibly frustrated. “Haven’t been fucked in a while, have you.” He states firmly, less of a question than proclamation. A cold, robotic finger grazes her bottom lip, stony, iced, a snicker loiters. “Or haven’t been fucked well?” His finger trails down, gently, sub-zero, feather light as it glosses her skin, brushed against the petals, the slippery folds of her tender womanhood; two digits enter, curling inside her beautifully slick, warm walls.

“You’re gonna remember me for days, princess. Gonna wreck this pretty pussy of yours, show you what it means to be alive.”

In this moment, she’d swore she belongs to him. She’d permit his pessimistic soul to do whatever he sought, with her frail body.

“Gonna pull it out or what, coward.” She allows, that familiar confidence she’d so desperately tried to hold true finding light once again.

She tries, she pleads to be strong. Yet she knows, she’d be sure. She’d crumble under him; she’d fall mercy to his mechanical touch.

“Patience.” He sneers, motorized hands unzipping. “Patience is virtue, darling.”

Somewhere along the way, she’d gotten accustomed to snarky remarks, egotistical transcriptions.

His cock falls out of his pants, heavy, thick, big, beautiful. She swallows, intrigued by the grandeur, a rosy tip swells with beads of wet pre cum, seeps. A thunderous vein runs down a curved shaft, copious balls surrounded by a jungle of dark hair.

She swallows at the sight; his words stay true. Intimidated, she’d for sure remember him, for days. The ache he’d leave would triumph for days to come.

“On your back.” He demands, pants long forgotten to the flat below, a few meagre tugs jerked to his raw, throbbing member.

Johnny Silverhand had fucked countless women, yet none made his cock as painfully erect, tender as she did. In the most sinful of ways, his cock would become her prisoner, and they hadn’t even started yet. With a rock hard cock digging into the skin of her stomach, he takes positon above her, towering. The scent of need fills the air as silky legs spread for his taking,

She spreads for his taking. A gasp dies in her throat as his cock springs, the deep baritone moan in his chest grumbling as his erection dips forcefully into her tiny mouth, impeding down her throat with a sole thrust. His hips buck forcefully in her wet, tight mouth, lingering as his jaw tightens, before plummeting out.

He’d primed himself in her throat, preparing to be buried between feeble legs, drowned inside her tender cunt.

Glancing between sweat stippled bodies, she stares and stares when his hands line a pulsating cock up with her entrance, firm hands planting to her hips, his massive member sinks inside her, rough, robust. A heavy thrust implores, big, warm, beautiful. One deep, harsh thrust was all it took. All it took for her to ascend, a loud moan of pure pleasure let off her lips at the sheer weight of him inside.

The bass of his voice moans harsh, sucking in a sharp breath to the feel of her wrapped, glistening his cock with her creamy, wet releases. His pace proves animalistic, hard off the get go, minimal time for her to adjust before he pounds her hastily, laboured breaths and quickened heavy exhales channelling out both their bodies. Delicate, weak arms desperately hold his broad shoulders as he drills into her needily, sloppily, the sound of thick balls slamming her core echo grey walls, dark eyes and enticingly deep grunts kissing her ears as he takes her body whole. “Fuck…you’re...” He breathes, rugged, harsh. “You’re…so fucking tight. So fucking wet.” Growling, he watches her become a whimpering, disorderly mess under his weight as beautifully plump breasts jerk hastily to his hostile pace. Her eyes flutter closed, lips slightly agape as she breathes tiny, gasped moans, fingernails clawing into his fleshy shoulders.

His hips rock expertly, so rough, so quick she feels warm tears singe in he corners of her eyes at how well he fucks her, how guttural his moans fall. Praises for her pussy dawdle his lips in hasty exhales, chasing his orgasm as her cunt cocoons, moulds to his cock so perfectly; as if a glove, as if she’d been made just for him. Solely for him to use, for him to fuck. His hold on her tightens, hands kneading tantalising hips as one moves to squeeze her breast, tough. The stretch he leaves proves incomparable, eyes widening when the curve of his cock hits her G spot repeatedly, hisses of her name and rapt desire overtaking. A selfish pace conjures, her body jerks, stifling moans with each imperative thrust.

The pain, the pleasure. The unholy pleasure of this parasite splitting her inch by inch. His cock glides easily, slips in and out gratifyingly; whimpers and yelps brew her voice, a chant of his name desperately recited as if a prayer she’d held, punctuated by growls and throaty gruffs of his. With her tits bouncing vigorously to his pace, Johnny’s need only cultivates further, and he drowns in the feel of her heavenly cunt.

His, all, and only, his.

Her legs tremble, a bite sinks into her arm covering her mouth to cage particularly gruesome moans. The violent labour of his hips, over and over, and over leave every vein inside her snapping, every nerve ending sparking with lust, she feels him all. His entire cock barely fitting; she squirms under him, his buttery voice filtered with demand. “Tighten up for me. Milk this cock like it’s the last thing you’ll do.” His moans fall heavier, as his thrusts; sultry, stiff voice surging her ears as he shudders, shivering, buried deep, deep inside. A cocktail of glossy, creamed releases they’d create together drip to the sheets below, although neither cease to care.

A joint euphoria builds, something they’d needed dire. Her limbs wrap his frame, his muscles cage her tight. He pounds, he thrusts, he jolts, he relishes in the tender haven she’d given him to spoil in; the sound of his cock slicking in her wetness through unaltered thrusts proves far too much, she feels each ridge, each inch of his godly cock assaulting her core.

“Gonna cum,” Johnny asserts, pace never faltering. She jolts, and jolts, and cries, and whines to his speed, to his feel. Within a few particularly intense thrusts, lewd moans drive out her lips in frantic succumb, her pussy throbs for him, skin colliding, arousing him further. Holding dearly, she practically melts into him, hips bucking to meet his as a blissful, earthshattering orgasm washes over her in currents; in oceanic waves, a tsunami of all things good, all things filthy.

Her pussy falls sore, aching, delicate from the action when he grunts imperatively, the sound of hammering hips into her heat dying down when his cock twitches within her, slipping through silky arousal easily, slamming relentlessly when his high comes. It comes, he cums, deep, deep inside her trifling cunt, swollen thick and jerked as spurts of hot, scotching cum coat the insides of her pussy. The groans he lets out prove impatient, hoarse, coursing, currenting through her ears. She beats with his succulent release inside, a cocktail her juices and what he’d left behind coating the insides of her thighs.

In sex gratified bliss, her eyes widen when he collapses on top, thunderous arms holding her still, cock excruciating felt within. Tonight, she’d been told. She’d been shown,

Johnny likes it

Sloppy. Vulgar. Tight.

pornographic.

Johnny likes it rough, hard.

Ruthless, and she’d crumbled in each inch of it. Addicted, long gone. He’d sworn the same, intoxicated by her unrivalled cunt, those soft, whingeing moans that flee her lips;

With their skin sticking together through beads of peppered exertion, laboured puffs and heavy huffs pound in their chests, bodied still fitted together as if a puzzle piece, cock still sheathed inside. Simpering, smirking, his cold, contemporary finger lifts the faint of her chin,

the world seemed to have ended in this moment.

her world had ended, shaken.

But time still passed, it passed, it tightened, clawed in her chest.

Nothing compared to him, nothing tasted as sweet.

“We are bound, kitten. This pussy is mine, and mine alone.”

A declaration, a fate written.

He’d taken over another part of her; and this time, she let him.

Her body belongs to him, in all forms.

His fuck doll, she’d be.

And she knows, she feels it in her bones. He’ll be the death of her through what comes;

he’ll love to ruin her.

and she’ll love, to be his.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

#johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand x you #Johnny silverhand x female v #Johnny silverhand x V #Keanu Reeves x reader #Johnny silverhand fanfic

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d6rkroom · 4 years ago

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— ‘𝗻𝗼𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼.’

finn mcnamara x top!male reader. (wc; 1.7k)

#a/n: this took way longer than it should've, my apologies fer’ that! BUT THANK YOU ELIAN FOR GIVIN’ ME THE GENERAL IDEA FOR THIS, I HAD A TON OF FUN WRITIN’ IT! YER’ BIG BRAIN AS HELL!

warnings. forced breeding, dubcon, mentions of cheating, possessive behavior, degrading k., dumbification, brat taming, sex infront of a mirror, manhandling, belly bulge, cum inflation, implied mpreg.

it was expected, it was only a matter of time before his olden behavior caved in on him and he relapsed right back into those sickly habits from nothing more than a year prior.

finn mcnamara was a slut. a dirty, good for nothing cheater. you knew his loyalty was short lived— his drive for exploration and choas secured that lucid notion in your brain ever since the two of you had started your dating journey.

how naive were you to untrust your heart with him, so utterly idiotic.

there you were, fingers curled around the doorknob as you lay in wait for your boyfriend to take note of the new presence clouding the room. your face was sheathed in coats of not shock, nor distaste— just inflicted with an expressionless disappointment. whatever bit of rage that fogged your mind swiftly dissolved along with his sexual mate that accompanied your spot on the bed.

nonchalant as ever, he sent a sloppy smile your direction; probably as a result of whatever poor pounding he just received from the rather small looking guy who was just in your room. pathetic, he couldn't even wait a few hours for your attention so he tossed aside his pride and let his greedy hole get creamed by someone at least half your size.

“satisfied with yourself, whore?” a satirical snear contorted your lips. one he knew a little to well, one he could tell apart from your usual one. the one you would often flicker as the two of you conversed. he knew you loved him, as did he; yet, the outcome of pushing your buttons was one he couldn't shake the craving for.

“hah, as satisfied as ever— sweetheart.” his first mistake was underestimating your tolerance for his bullshit. the second was letting that sour chuckle rip past his throat.

he was already exposed, clothes abandoned along side his dignity. letting such a inexperienced and second option hook-up ruin his beautifully stretched hole was baffling to you. was he really that desperate to have his ass filled and feel full for the remainder of the evening? you already knew the answer to your own inquiry.

he sputtered out a few words that glazed past your ears and straight out the back of your head. you had no care to hear any other soft attempts to convey how what he committed was mistake or how his body was now yours for the night. you had tunnel-vision set on his spend, plump ass that was already wiggling in the air— contrast from his cheek, which was pressed into the matress.

you give a harsh smack on the milky flesh, making finn’s lower half jolt in retaliation; halting his train of thought and stopping his tongue mid monologue. his hands instinctively sink into the pillow beneath his neck. you shift your weight, prying his thighs apart and spreading his cheeks wide open; the perfect view. the head of your cock, flushed red and throbbing gives a few pokes at his pulsating rim which is already venting around nothing.

you give his hole a few, firm slaps from the length of your shaft. beckoning that bratty inclination from out from beneath him— you wanted to hear those lips bark out your name. persuading you to rock in and out of his useless body.

“you want that? my cock to just slip right inside you without need for an apology? without regard for what i just caught you doing in, our bed?”

you almost give in, but you're smarter than to let finn get what he so desperately wants, that easily. rubbing your palm into his hips, small pats connecting with the side of his abdomen insinuate he fetches the mirror from the corner of the bedroom. no words were required in the exchange, he knew his place— plain and simple. and he sure as hell knew what you silently commanded he do.

an exasperated groan grumbles from the depths of his chest, his tongue clicked in annoyance at the sudden expectation for him to remove himself from his lewd position. so stupid, he throws away your years of love to get fucked by some stranger and then complains as you whisk him away from the sheets. he had driven you to your witt's end.

“excuse you, cunt? did i just hear you protest, after cheating in my bed, in my house? don't forget who owns you.”

his blood ran cold and the hairs on the back of his neck sprung to life with an accompanying chill that relished up his spine. his shoulders visibly cringed at your tone as he wasted no time flipping over and hoisting the mirror slowly to the foot of the bed. with the reflective piece of glass now fitted nicely as it leaned against the bedframe— finn crawled atop the messy array of sheets.

“y/n look.. m’sorry don't-” he wasn't allowed to finish, at least not anymore he wasn't. you weren't going to let him disrespect your authority under your roof any longer.

without thinking your hand reaches to unbuckle your belt, fingers toying with the zipper and button respectively. tugging your pants and boxers down without caution— you carded a few free fingers into his messy, mop of hair. digging into and only making it a much more noticable mess than before as you yanked his face to meet yours.

you felt a guley glob of spit collect under your tongue, shooting the wad right between his eyes; saliva leaking down the bridge of his nose and bleeding onto his upperlip. you knew how he adorded being tossed around like trash, better yet, treated as such. he was getting off to this, his eyes pooling wide with lust everytime a vulgar insult leaped from behind your teeth.

he tries not to let his words slur as you play with his still, very tender asshole. breath hitching every step of the way as you spin him to face the direction of the mirror. his hole was still lubed and wet from his previous visitor, giving you very easy access with little push or resistance.

his eyes roll back, you keep your gaze attentive on his decoy on the other side of the glass. your fat cock streaching him out has his lips parting to release a squeal of appreciation, a lavish burn following close suit as you sink deeper inside of him. he's not regretting his choice to unturn his devotion towards you; not yet at least.

“getting off to this slut? look at yourself, i haven't even started to really fuck you yet. pathetic.”

finn’s eyes are trained on his reflection, the look of tragedy curling over his spit-slicked lips. he could feel how deep you were, reaching spots he didn't even know were there. he can also make out the veins on your cock dragging along his walls and you're right; he is getting off to this. it felt so good— he felt so good— it all was good.

you rut into his ass like a feral animal, grunting cocktailed with sour remarks to keep the tension rising. instinctively he clings onto the fabric beneath him for dear life, knuckles fading from bright red to a pale white. through the fog of pleasure clogging his mind, he can only keen out an audible ‘yes’ to all of the questions and words that jumbled from your mouth.

with your eyes fixated on the way his skin ripples and jiggles against your hips, the fat riding up onto yer’ waist with the brutal pace you keep. he attempts to protest with how close he feels himself getting, only to be cut off by one hard slam after another— cock drilling into his tight little hole with intentions to impregnate him.

concepts of his usualy flat tummy growing round and bloated as you fucked it full of your little swimmers now press into your mind. each seed racing to see which will be the one to knock up your boyfriend; rendering him yours forever. your vigor prevails, motivated by the sole image of your slut giving birth to one, maybe two of your genetic creations. your offspring.

finn wonders if the cheating scandal really has your stamina skyrocketing, that is until through the intoxication of your speed— he realizes. fuck, you don't have a condom. he can't get pregnant, as much as he'd want to settle down with you he has way to many jobs that would release him from employment if they found out he had a baby in his belly. you wouldn't do that to him, would you? you knew how near and dear traveling from place to place, job to job was to him. was this punishment?

“sweeti- ah! y/n c-condom!”

even with his tongue tripping over ever other word, you could decipher the clutter of gibberish all too well. he had figured out your plan to breed his tiny body.

“oh? that silly thing? i gotta make you my wife, remember? just a stupid little whore who can only work from home. nobody wants to fuck a pregnant bitch. maybe that'll teach you to keep it in your pants.”

“n-no— ah-! fuck..”

your words sent tingles over his scalp, squelching noises resonate through the air mingled with your bitter laughter. drool starts to seep from the corners of his mouth and tears begin to well up in his eyes as he watches his mirror double get impailed by the outline of your cock. he knows soon that a small child will fill the roll of your shaft, he can't do anything but try to resist as the idea of your warm, stick love flooding his womb only grows on him.

at this point, all finn is doing is whimpering on your cock, degrading making the pressure behind his thighs hotter and his ass tighter. that familiar knot twisting in his lower stomach begging to snap as you roll into his prostate with a hunger glistening in your eyes. you flip finn on his back and catch his bottom, wet lip between your teeth and tug with the push of your hips. eye contact is never broken as your hot load spurts long and sticky ropes through his ass and into his belly. so full, he's so positively full as he feels your genes enter his boy womb�� effectively impregnating and painting his gummy walls with white fluid.

soon a bunch of mini you’s will roam the empty spaces in your home and you'll start the perfect family together. you had planned to make him your bitch for quite some time, but the cheating only sped up the inevitable. finn sobbed into the crook of your neck; protruding tummy poking at your abdomen as he loosely attached to you.

the whole ordeal would be burned into his brain and yours, the mirror serving his eyes a sick reminder that he was now tasked with carrying your kid. forever.

#𓉔 — m.list #𓉔 — directory.#𓉔 — works.#c; finn #finn mcnamara x male reader #finn mcnamara x top male reader #life is strange x male reader #life is strange x top male reader #dark life is strange #life is strange smut #lis smut #dark lis #dark blog #smut blog #finn mcnamara #finn mcnamara smut

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years ago

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particles x damon albarn

the lyrics to this song are genuinely so beautiful, like i honestly cannot describe enough how much i adore this song my goodness

Pairing: present day damon x reader

Warnings: none :D

Word count: 1.881

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

It had been two months since I had last seen him. Two whole months since he had set foot in our home; two whole months since he said goodbye to leave for tour. The home that we shared had began to inhabit a sense of eeriness, some nights the walls began to feel as if they were closing in on me, trapping me from any interaction with the outside world, as if to hold me hostage by my own insanity, although other nights the space felt extremely large, almost too big for one person to be able to waste their nights alone in, encapsulating my mind in a constant conflict of obstructive thoughts, forcing me to overthink every tiny detail that was conveyed on the pale stained walls, the wooden floorboards, the arrangement of the furniture, resulting in many a time of me moving around heavy tables and chairs until the image of the room settled my mind’s anxiety. Allowing distance to get in the lines of mine and Damon’s relationship, it was simply uncanny that I was going to miss him; he was the carcass that kept me sane, the being that granted me peace in myself, ease on my mind to prevent such mania from enrapturing my brain, the person that engulfed me into a stupor of adoration and affection that one could never understand the authentic strength until felt - what some perceive as paramour, true love, something so overstimulating that once separated such thing desperation beguiles you to surround yourself with, only a mere sensation of emptiness is all that is felt inside, as if your limbs are damaged, your insides constantly in a state of sickness that you are convinced you’re in need of some form of professional assistance, but it is simply the alchemy, the poison of the apprehension that captivates you from the estrangement from your significant other. Though that wasn’t to say that wasn’t proud of Damon; I embraced fondness and admiration for everything that he did and was so dedicated in doing, his talent and immense knowledge for the art form that speaks to you demonstrated his ability to move millions of people, uniting as one in concerts, all touched from the same, simple string of melodies, proving his true gift and genius that is inside his brain.

I tried to pry my thoughts away from the excitement that had been seeping into my veins from the fact that he was returning home today, in an attempt to focus my mind on whatever had been showing on the television, but there was no use. To be cradled in his arms was all that I had longed, the thought clouding my brain almost every single night that I had thrown my body onto the linen sheets, trying to wrap my body around the duvet to replicate the specific warmth that had enveloped my body when in his arms, his body completely dominating mine, his hands running through my hair gently, apologising with a kiss on the top of my head when he accidentally pulled too roughly, my face buried in his chest as a blush would suddenly creep onto my cheeks, our embrace fulfilling me with a nest of blooming butterflies in my body, a poignant sensation of nervousness and reverence for the man that had me cooped up in his arms, the same feelings that would embody you whilst walking past your first crush during primary school, accidentally brushing your hands against one another’s, sending your mind into overdrive as if to think that the person was the love of your life. Such emotions never left, and I doubted that they ever would; supposing that is true love, he could make me feel like a little girl squealing over her teenage idol because of how perfect he was, just from being himself.

“I’m home, love,” I heard a voice call out in the hallway, accompanied by the soft slam of the front door, the tone of voice lacing a certain amount of raspiness, perhaps from a cigarette that had just been inhaled. My head instantly turned to the door of the living room, eyes settling upon the sight of Damon, who had a small grin curved on his lips, his gaze captured with joy and desire, perhaps from gratification towards the understanding that the tour had finally ended, as well as the fact that he was able to finally see me once again - my expression equally reciprocating his happiness. Instantly jumping from my seat on the couch, I rushed over to him as I threw my arms around him, resting my ear against his chest, listening to the soft pattern of his heartbeat. As usual, his arms wrapped around my figure, tightly embracing my body, the swarm of butterflies breaking out of their cocoons, my limbs growing weak from the recognisable thrill of affection that I had desired for far too long, and had sadly not received. Feeling his lips grazing against the top of my head made my mind go fuzzy, my cheeks flushing a heat that made me feel as if I was under the beating warmth of the sun during the summer months. This is what he does to me. “How’ve you been darling? I see you’ve rearranged the place, again.” he mumbled into my head of hair, my mind still relishing in the pleasure of being in his arms again.

“I’ve missed you,” I replied, reluctantly pulling my arms away from the embrace, in order to gawk at him. A gentle chuckle rumbled from his throat, though his features accentuated pity, understanding how I must’ve felt being away from him for so long. Lightly taking hold of one of his hands, I dragged his arm, guiding him to the sofa, where both of us sat next to each other. “You were gone for so long!”

“I know love, I’ve missed you so much,” he replied, squeezing my hand in reassurance. “At least I’m not gone for any longer though.” he added, his lips curving slightly as I nodded, a similar grin planted on my lips.

“How was the tour then?” I asked, pulling his arm to wrap it around my shoulders, my body already aching for more attachment to him. “The videos I’ve seen online made it look very good.”

“It was great, honestly. Loved every bit of it.” he replied, the grip on my shoulder tightening as he attempted to haul me closer to him. Humming in agreement, I placed my head on his shoulder, cradling the moment we shared together, the moment that I had imagined and adorned each and every night he was absent, cherishing every single time that he was able to be in my presence. I depended on him greatly, as did he, and though that may be a toxic strand which can only result in turmoil; our appreciation for one another held such poise that it would draw us closer together each and every time we had conjoined together after months of being separated. “I’ve actually got something to show you.” he added, shifting from our hug and slowly stepping to his feet, taking his hand in mine, his soft but coarse palms gripping onto mine ever so slightly, urging me to stand up too. “Come with me.”

Following him closely, we headed towards his studio. I had forgotten the last time that I had set foot in it; usually I would leave Damon to work on his craft alone, since having me prance around messing with all sorts of instruments and controls wasn’t going to provide much assistance. As well as that, sitting in the room, knowing that he was away and would be for many days on, would only make me yearn for his presence more, which is the last of what I would need when not being able to fall asleep. Though whenever he would call me into the room, he would always show me the most beautifully crafted symphony, in which he would perform it so effortlessly, as if it was simply created from the top of his head at that moment. Talent like his was so scarce; it would only prove to me that it’s something you are gifted with at birth, like an extremely high intelligence quotient - he always had ideas running through his mind, melodies that would be formed from a simple tap of the table in front of him. It was a wonder in the fact that he seemingly never got burned out with creating music, it was evidently his passion, and it touched me that he would constantly ask me for my opinion on his music, as it always resonated with him, always held such importance.

When we walked inside the studio, I followed him to the grand piano that was standing by the corner of the room. I kept my body upright, behind him, as he pulled out the black stool underneath, moving it back slightly in order for him to sit on it. “Over the tour, I had some free time, so I wrote this song, it’s called Particles,” he began, his voice quiet, as if it were intertwined with a certain anxiousness about what he was about to perform. “It’s still a work in progress, but I wanted to know what you thought of it.”

As I admired his fingers softly grazing the elegant, pale keys of the piano, the melody that in which played forth me instantaneously sufficed me in a trance, bewilderment encompassing my my mind as I listened to the sounds of the alluring chords echo throughout the room, bounce off the walls, the waves of noise crafting mountainous regions of goosebumps to prickle on the bare skin exposed from my forearms. Sculpted with such elegance and formality, my mouth fell agape as he played with such ease - in that significant moment, I was subdued to his music, hypnotised into his magnificence; I could do nothing, absolutely nothing, except admire the grace that fell from his lips once he started singing. As I allowed my gaze to drift onto his face, I gawked at his demeanour, his eyes almost screwed shut, his face almost frozen in place as his body rocked back and forth to the melody that was omitted from the piano. Every word, every string of lines carried a lugubrious essence to it, a tone laced with such beautification; obvious that there were deeper implications behind said lyrics. Each line that escaped his throat exemplified the nature of what earnest fervour, authentic devotion and expertise can embody. Such melody, paired with his voice embodied with pure ethereality, as if I was being greeted by a herd of the most quaint angels, welcoming my soul into the seven heavens. A beam crawled onto my lips, my heart thumping at a million miles per hour from the amount of love I carried in my body for the man in front of me.

Once the song ended, a moment was held in the atmosphere of mere silence, as if to take in all that was felt, all that had vibrated through the sound waves and blessed my ears. Shifting his body so he could connect eyes with me, a gentle, welcoming smile tugged on his lips. “That’s for you.”

#thank u anon <3333333 #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #blur #blur band #90s #britpop #gorillaz #my imagines #my writing #fanfic #fluff #fan fiction

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

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Lavender Lace

Pairings: Tom Holland x Femdom!Reader

Summary: Edging Tom (no plot whatsoever which is super rare here cause I’m a slut for plot)

Warnings: Edging (male receiving), unprotected sex (because it’s a fic and there is no pregnancy or STD’s unless I say lol), Dom!Reader-Sub!Tom, Creampie, Cockwarming, Reader doesn’t cum (sorry)

Word Count: 1860

A/N: I wrote most of this on my phone so I’m sorry if there are any words that autocorrect changed. I looked through and changed the ones I saw but just in case I missed any, my apologies!

Part 2 out now!

______________________

Tom lied on the bed, hands tied up above his head to the bed frame. His beautiful body was on full display against the sheets, small freckles adorning his taut skin. A glistening layer of sweat made every dip and rise of his body shine deliciously, his defined muscles exaggerated by the light shining off it. His chest heaved up and down as he attempted to calm himself down yet again and his biceps flexed as he pulled against his restraints. “Fuck! Please, please please…” His voice was broken and desperate- but not quite desperate enough.

“Awe, Tommy. You’re doing so well,” you cooed, rubbing your hand lovingly across his firm thigh, “But I think you can go a little longer.“

Tom groaned in frustration, his cock already painfully hard and leaking precum. He hissed and bucked up into your hand when your hand went back down to pump his impressive length. Your hand glided up and down, adding a twist at the top around the tip. “Please-”

You stopped your movement but kept your hand still on his member, shaking your head, “No cumming until I say.” You chided, voice gentle in stark contrast to the torture you’d been putting him through for the last hour. Tom’s hips bucked upwards again, desperate for release, making you chuckle, “Look at you. So handsome. So desperate.” After a few moments, his breathing calmed down and your fingers circled feather light across his pelvis and down over his thighs, “Let’s get you a little more desperate.”

Tom shook his head, “I need to cum. Please, please let me!”

You almost felt bad for your boyfriend. He looked almost in pain and you really did want to please him more than anything but you also knew that he loved this torture. If he really wanted you to stop, he only had to say the safe word. That weird simple little word had yet to leave his lips, which meant the fun could go on, guilt free.

Your middle finger circled his tip, so agonizingly light that he couldn’t tell if you were there or his brain was just creating sensations to cope with the torture. “Just a few more, love. Think of how good it will feel when you finally get to cum.” With that, you licked a long, slow stripe up the underside of his length before taking only his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue, lapping up the abundant pre-cum that had been practically pouring out at this point.

Tom pulled at his hand restraints aggressively, “Agh!” He almost screamed out as you brought him to the edge yet again with only small kitten licks to his tip while you stroked his shift with your hand. Tom was so painfully close, it only took mere seconds before he was crying out again.

“I’m gonna cum!” He warned and you took your hand off completely, causing him to cry out. You crawled up his body, kissing a line up along the way. You made sure that his cock rubbed through the valley of your breasts, concealed by a lacey lavender push up bra that did wonders for your chest. When you made your way to his lips, you straddled his waist, just above where he needed you most, and kissed his lips.

“What number was that?” You whispered lightly into his ear.

His eyes opened to find yours only mere inches away and he could have cried. You looked beautiful. Sultry, sexy, confident. Tom, on the other hand, appeared to be a few seconds from tears. His big beautiful chocolate eyes were practically black, pupils blown so wide they nearly overwhelmed his entire irises. His brown curls stuck to his forehead from where he’d attempted to desperately bury his head in the pillows. “Nine.” Tom managed barely, only able to focus on the intense pressure between his legs.

You kissed him again, lifting yourself off him just enough to move the thin fabric of your thong aside before sitting back down, his length sliding between your slick folds as you rocked your hips.

“Fuck!” He hissed out, eyes screwed shut. He had already been so close that this alone almost sent him over the edge.

Your nails scratched lightly over his chest as your ground on him. You moaned a little when his head bumped your clit as he passed through your folds, so close to finally being inside you. “You’ve been such a good boy, Tommy. Where do you want to cum?” You asked, reaching over his head to untie the scarf you’d had him bound by. Immediately, his hands were on your hips.

He timidly asked, “Inside you?” Even after all these years together and the fact you were on birth control, it was still a request he felt weird making.

You smiled against his skin as you licked up his neck, still moving your hips against him, “You can cum inside me when I hit ten, understand?”

“I don’t think I’ll make it. I’m already s-so close.” Tom stuttered when he felt the tip of his cock finally slide into your warmth.

You squeezed your walls around him, just to torture him a little more, “You’re gonna have to, love. If you cum before I say, I’m gonna have to stop and ruin it.”

A genuine look of fear ran through Tom’s eyes and you knew he’d behave for you. He wanted this - nay, needed this - so badly. You began to bounce on his length, his cock rubbing against every wonderful spot inside you. Your hands came to your breasts, palming them through the thick fabric of your bra. “One.”

Tom’s hands struggled to stay on your hips, knowing you might edge him longer if he stepped out of line, “Let me touch you.” He begged and you only nodded, reaching for his hands and placing them on your breasts. He pulled the fabric down and raked his nails gently over your nipples, making you breathe out in pleasure.

“Two,” You moaned out, “Three.” You kept bouncing and you could feel him twitch inside you. “Four. Five.”

“I’m not gonna make it. I’m so close.” Tom was almost crying, legs struggling to stay still as he used every ounce of willpower to not let go here and no. He was so close, all it would take was a millisecond of losing concentration to snap.

You slowed down and just sat on him yet again, not moving but clenching your walls around his aching member and he audibly whined, “You’re gonna make it or I’m gonna get off and leave you writhing on the bed. Then you can watch while I finish myself off. That what you want?”

He shook his head aggressively, his hands moving back down to your hips to keep you in place, “No, no, no! I’ll make it to ten!” You noted the movement of his hands and maybe if he hadn’t been so well behaved all this time, you would have punished him a little more for trying to take control but you could see in his eyes how painfully desperate he was, how hard he was trying to be good. You wouldn’t punish him for it - this time.

“Good.” You began to swivel your hips, just like you knew he loved it and he threw his head back into the pillows, eyes shut tight as he struggled to keep his composure. “Six. Seven.” You reached down and ran your thumb gently across his cheek where an actual tear slid down, still moving on his cock, still drawing this out, “Eyes open, love.” Tom struggled to comply, knowing that one of the only things keeping him from busting right this second was trying to take his mind anywhere but this situation. Seeing you looking so damn sexy bouncing on his cock was sure to send him over. But he managed to pry his lids open and lock eyes with your blown out orbs. You bit your lip and smiled, “You’re doing such a good job. Eight.”

“Shit!” A broken moan tumbled from his lips as he flexed every muscle in his body to keep it at bay. He was gonna snap and there was nothing he could do about it, especially at this painfully slow pace you’d been counting at.

“Nine.”

Tom’s heart raced as he waited for that last number, that last bit of permission before you would let him finally release. He didn’t think he’d ever been this painfully hard and it made him look back at every other time he ever thought he had blue balls and smack his past self. He had no idea what it was like to be this achingly close. “Please, please-”

“Ten. Cum for me baby.” You finally allowed, raking your fingers down his body, making sure to graze over his nipples.

The orgasm hit him like a semi, crashing into across his body hard and fast the very moment you permitted it. “Agh! Fucking hell!”! He was nearly sobbing, his hands squeezing tightly into your hips and bouncing you up and down at just the right pace. Again, something you let slide. He had just been so good for you, he deserved it. His seed shot deep into you, warm and overflowing and waves of pleasure just kept coming. Tom didn’t think he’d ever cum this hard or long in his life, himself surprised when more and more hot ribbons seemed to just. Keep. coming.

Finally, he slowed down, arms slackening weakly against your thighs as he came down from his high. He was still sheathed inside you, his seed leaking out around his cock, down his cock and along your inner thighs. You had never been so full and you didn’t want it to end. You leaned forward, coming to lay on his chest, head in the crook of his neck. When you moved, your walls instinctively fluttered around his sensitive cock and Tom hissed, his grip suddenly tightening on you as the stimulation became too much.

Once you had positioned yourself comfortably on his chest, he wrapped an arm around your body, rubbing large stripes up and down your side. You twirled his hair in your fingers and listened to his wrecked breathing with a bit of pride knowing you made him feel this good. “You did so good for me, Tommy.”

He sighed heavily, “Thank you.” You giggled a little, knowing his brain was still moving a little slow. He wasn’t thanking you for the compliment- he was thanking you for finally letting him cum.

“Wasn’t too much?” You asked, hoping you didn’t go overboard. Logically, you knew he’d use the safe word if it was too much but you just wanted to be sure you hadn’t gotten a little too lost in the power.

Tom shook his head with a chuckle, pulling you closer into his body, hissing yet again when your heat shifted around his overstimulated softening length. “Just right. Any more and I might have died, though.”

You both laughed at his joke before you cooed in his ear, “Oh, love, you can take it. We’ll just have to break your record next time.”

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legoshi-plz · 4 years ago

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Pretenses Part Five (Louis x Reader)

Summary: Louis is a spoiled prince and you are a clumsy maid. Prince! Louis x Canine!Dog! Reader.

Warning: NSFW (+18)

Despite Louis’ outwardly composed nature, inside he was in full blown panic mode.

He had just finished up yet another uneventful dinner with his father and his future bride; now it was time to return to his chambers. His chambers he hadn’t been in since this morning. His chambers where he was currently holding you hostage.

Louis stood in front of his door for who knows how long before finally opening it with great hesitation, preparing himself for your angry, perhaps even violent response. Instead he was greeted with.... silence. You were on the bed where he’d left you, sound asleep.

Louis couldn’t help the relieved flutter of his tail at the sight of your sleeping form.

You had curled under the covers, probably to keep warm in the cold air of his chambers, your form rising and falling peacefully as you snoozed. Louis approached you slowly, checking to make sure you were actually asleep before his hands flew to throw off his royal regalia.

Once free from the confines of his complex uniform, he was under the covers immediately. Bringing your snoozing figure into his arms. You didn’t move a muscle; it was evident you were a heavy sleeper. Louis already knew this from his time watching you as you took your midday naps in his chambers but he didn’t know it was to such a great extent. He shifted so that he could lay his head on your chest, arms encircling your waist. He listened to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, his breathing slowing down to match your own.

He was asleep in minutes.

////////

You awoke to a weight on your chest and the smell of Louis’ cologne surrounding you. When you opened your eyes, the brightness assaulted your vision, making you attempt to turn away but that attempt was futile.

The Prince, who definitely wasn’t there when you fell asleep yesterday, was laying directly on top of you with his head on your chest, arms in a deadlock around your waist. You were caged beneath him, his weight pinning you down. You contemplated screaming bloody murder, hoping you could shock him into letting you go and make a run for it but decided against it. You doubted he’d remember to lock the door behind him, that could possibly be an opportunity for you to escape. You slowly began trying to pull his long arms from you when you felt his grip tighten.

“Don’t even think about it,” Louis mumbled, nuzzling further into your neck.

“My liege, please stop this indecency. As rightful heir to the thrown, a lowly maid such as myself would only sully-

“How long did you practice that one? Is that what you were doing yesterday while I was gone? Rehearsing pleas so I’d let you go?” Louis chuckled, finally opening his eyes. Sleepy amber orbs met your own irises and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful his brown eyes looked in the morning sun. They didn’t reflect the light but instead nearly consumed it, a complete contrast to the brown of his fur.

“You must be hungry? You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday, if that. I’ll call the kitchen and have them bring us something up. Breakfast in bed doesn’t sound too bad,” Louis bit his lip as his eyes drank in your form beneath him. He definitely looked hungry, yet for something other than food; his eyes were burning with barely contained lust.

“I-I have to go, my Prince. I have to perform my duties in the kitch-AH,” you were cut off when Louis sat up and brought you with him as he pulled you onto his lap to straddle him. You felt your fur prickle with embarrassment as you realized not only was he shirtless, but he also seemed to be only in his underwear, the dark blue embroided material providing a very thin barrier to the Prince’s most precious asset.

“What about your duties to me?” Louis hummed, rubbing his hands up and down the fur of your outter thighs. The top of your uniform was still very much ripped open, so you brought your arms up to cover yourself, the blankets you’d been curled under no longer providing you coverage.

“Ah ah ah, you should know better than to hide yourself from me,” Louis hummed, prying your arms from your chest. He leaned forward, his mouth capturing once of your hardened nipples. The feeling of his hot tongue on your sensitive peak sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Pr-pr-princeee, pleaaaase,” you moaned lightly, your voice nothing more than a breathy whisper.

Louis ignored you, instead moving to the other peak while his hands found themselves back at your plush hips. He rocked upwards into you, his hard member making its presence know.

“Take these off,” Louis mumbled against your areola, tugging at your panties. When you hesitated, he simply sighed before ripping them off himself.

“My Pri-

“Shut up,” Louis groaned against your chest, the vibrations further stimulating your raised peak. Louis plunged his fingers into your arching cavern just as he had the day before. You felt your head swirl in embarrassment and arousal, the two emotions battling for dominance.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you? How long I’ve desired you?” Louis asked, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw. His eyes burned with such passion for you, it was hard to not look away.

“That’s it, ride my hand. Just like that,” Louis grunted and you hadn’t even noticed your pelvis had begun grinding into his hand to meet the thrusts of his fingers. Your body was moving completely on its own, anything to help relieve the pressure growing in your lower belly.

Suddenly, Louis ceased his movements, lifting you up slightly with one hand while he pulled his underwear down with the other. His member sprang to life, resting against his abdomen as it stood glistening with precum. Being a stag and royalty, it was natural to assume he’d be well-endowed but nothing could have prepared you for the vision that was his impressive length.

He took your hands in his own larger ones and wrapped them around his weeping shaft. He let out a soft “fuck...” as he guided your hands up and down. He let go once you found your own rhythm, no longer needing his assistance for such a simple act.

“You’re so good at this- too good, actually. Did you touch Azuki’s mutt like this? Huh?” Louis asked breathlessly, his death grip returning to your thighs.

“I already told you yesterday, we aren’t like... that...” you grumbled, swiping your fingers over his sensitive cockhead, causing a needy groan to tear from his throat.

“Then what were you two like? You were already letting that filthy mongrel close enough to scent you, it’d be nothing for you to get on your knees for him.” Louis said angrily and you suddenly remembered exactly where you were and, more importantly, who you were with.

No amount of pretty words and declarations of desire were going to keep Louis’ true nature at bay for long. He was vile and malicious at heart. You knew this. He’d proven it to you time and time again. So when was it finally going to register in your dumb little brain?

You released his cock immediately, and climbed off his lap and out of his bed. You headed straight for the door but Louis was faster, grabbing and pinning you against the very door you’d been trying to exit from.

“Why do you keep running away from me? Can’t you see what I’m trying to do here?” Louis groaned into the nape of your neck. It sent shivers down your spine and you resisted the urge to arch into him.

“You’re trying to control me, to manipulate me”

“I’m trying to love you.” Louis craned his head back to look into your eyes. He saw no warmth in them.

“You have a peculiar way of expressing your ‘love’, my lord,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Annnnd we’re back to the incorrect formalities. Every time I feel we’ve taken one step forward, you move three spaces back. Why do you insist on fighting me so? I know you feel it, I can’t be imagining this attraction between us,” Louis finished, the grip on you wrists that previously had you pinned against the door now residing so that he could caress your forearms with the pads of his thumbs.

“I fight it because I know my place. I’m a dog, your highness. Lower than any other Herbivore commoner, and amongst the unfavorable even within Carnivore spaces. Most of the animals around here think I should be banished for even working within the castle during the day, let alone catering to you.”

“Their opinions don’t matter, they have no authority here-”

“It does matter, your highness. Because once your infatuation with me ceases, which is inevitable, you will return to your fiancé, marry her, be crowned King, and produce heirs. And all I’ll have is my life as a lowly commoner. That’s the natural order of things.” You lamented, your voice feeling thick with emotion.

“So what, you believe your future is with Azuki’s guard dog? Popping out litter after litter for him until you die? That’s no way to live, he can’t commit to you. His life already belongs to another woman and that’s Azuki.”

“You don’t think I know that? I’m fully aware of the hold our future Queen has over him. I’m just grateful for every moment he chooses to share with me. Makes my life a little less lonely...,”

“I could make your life less lonely! I could do that for you, better than he ever could!” Louis was slightly begging now, he could hear it in his own voice but he was beyond the point of caring.

“Don’t you see I feel my loneliest when I’m with you? All you’ve ever made me feel was small, and stupid, and unworthy. Legoshi doesn’t point out how I misuse words just to remind me of how uneducated I am. He doesn’t point out how unrefined my taste pallet is or force me to eat food outside of the carnivore diet. He doesn’t drag me out of bed at night to look at some stupid star a million miles away on some balcony when I’m afraid of heights. He doesn’t tell me where I can and can’t go, who I can and can’t see, just because he felt like it. He doesn’t humiliate me every chance he gets! He doesn’t boss me around just because he can!” There were hot tears streaming down your face. You had been holding this in for a long time.

“I see...,” Louis said finally breaking the silence. He released you from his grasp and took a step back. He adjusted himself, tucking his forgotten member fully back into his underwear. Though he had a beautiful body envious to those of Gods, he seemed almost shy about his lack of clothing now.

He glanced at your tattered uniform before muttering a “wait here... please...”, and walking towards one of the humongous wardrobes in his room. He pulled out a pristine, new uniform and walked back over to hand it to you.

“I kept a lot of these on hand, in case you ever wanted.... a more comfortable bed to lay your head at night...” Louis’s voice had never seemed so clouded. You silently accepted the uniform.

“You have my deepest apologies for my behavior. Such veracity was never my intention. I hereby relieve you of all obligation to me. You may return to the kitchen or to the gardens or to somewhere new if you like. Whereever you choose to go is fine, I’ll notify Stallworth of my approval. I...” Louis hesitated, finally bringing his eyes up yours.

“You’re free to go.”

/////////

A/N: I finally know how I want this story to end so hopefully they’ll only be two more parts for this series and it’ll reach it’s completion! Also thank you all again for 1K!

#beastars #beastars louis #beastars louis x reader #louis x reader #louis x you #louis #beastars Louis x you

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aminiatureworld · 4 years ago

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Melusine

Characters: Albedo, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,221

Warnings: Brief depiction of pseudo-drowning

Premise: In which the reader’s somewhat inexplicable fear of water prompts questioning

Author’s Note: This prompt reminded me of the book (and series) The Tail of Emily Windsnap, which, if you haven’t read at least the first book, you totally should read as it’s just really a wonderful read. The descriptions of the ocean are especially atmospheric. Anyways, as for the prompt, I had a lot of fun. I tried to write a mermaid story in middle school and while it didn’t go that well I have a lot of nostalgia for the mermaid genre. Though this was more about the discovery than actually being a mermaid.

Also the title is a pseudo-historical reference.

Albedo

The first time it had happened Albedo had brushed off the whole incident as completely explainable. After all, it wasn’t as if you hadn’t explained what had happened.

You two had been sitting on one of the craggy hills of the Whispering Woods, you sprawled on the grass, Albedo attempting to paint a landscape of Mondstadt, one of the more ambitious paintings in his current portfolio. Especially since he had traded his more opaque oils for the gentler tones of watercolors. At one point he must have made some sort of noise of frustration, for you lifted yourself out of the shade and made your way over to the canvas.

“That looks absolutely lovely Albedo!” Your smile had always had a calming affect on the alchemist, and this time was no different. Albedo could feel the tension slowly leeching away from his shoulders.

“Do you think so? I’m afraid that I still can’t handle all the odd shadows the buildings cast.”

“The buildings look perfect to me! Though if you feel that way, maybe you could lighten the side facing the sun a little more instead of darkening the area over here? So the shade doesn’t become too muddy.”

“You have a wonderful eye, you know,” Albedo replied, smiling at the way your mind had immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had drawn as well. Reaching for the bowl of water next to him Albedo went to water his brush a little more before trying again.

Unfortunately that’s when things appeared to have taken a turn for the wrong. Instead of reaching over the bowl Albedo’s elbow collided with the glass. Though the grass was soft and close enough to prevent any damage, that didn’t stop all the muddied water from spilling out over the brim and right over you. You let out a sort of squeak, and for a moment Albedo though it was just the initial shock, but then the expression on your face came into view and Albedo could immediately sense you were seconds away from panic.

“Is something wrong?”

“I, I don’t like water very much,” you let out a strained laugh. “I just, I don’t know. I really, really don’t like water.”

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo immediately replied.

Taking off his coat he did his best to dry you off, wiping off your arms and attempting a valiant effort with your now sopping clothes. Though you assured him that it would be alright the alchemist could sense those were only platitudes, and it wasn’t until you seemed significantly calmer that Albedo turned to pick up the bowl and refill it in Cider Lake. And though a part of his mind wished to delve deeper into what had happened he pulled himself back, figuring it wouldn’t help you if he was suddenly enquiring over something you were afraid of.

Now perhaps that should have been the long and the short of it, but the revelation had begun to make Albedo see water everywhere and, more importantly, see how much it appeared to affect you every time you appeared to come in close contact with it.

Thankfully you didn’t seem to have trouble with water in glasses, at least as long as someone was actively drinking it. If not however you would glance at the glass every so often, as if it were your mortal enemy, waiting to catch you off guard to it might tip its contents all over your clothes. Other things, like obsessively drying your wands after washing them and draping layers of towels over your shoulders when you washed your hair, also became apparent. Suddenly Albedo couldn’t stop noticing your discomfort, and the more he noticed the more he wished he could do something about it.

“Exposure therapy?”

“Yes.”

You were sitting on Albedo’s desk, leaning slightly over your partner, a slightly bemused look on your face. It had been about three weeks since the incident, and finally Albedo thought he might have found some sort of solution to your problem. Now he eagerly pressed forward, figuring you’d understand once he’d explained everything fully.

“I know that it might seem counterproductive to subject you to what gets a frightened reaction out of you, but if you subject a person to something they’re afraid of in very small doses over a long period of time, usually they begin to feel a little less afraid of the thing in question. It’s sort of like how you can sometimes make allergies less serious by slowly exposing the patient to more and more of the allergen.”

“I understand where your line of thought is coming from Albedo, but I’m really not sure if this is the best idea for me.”

“I know that it might seem daunting at first. I would not bring up the topic if you didn’t seem so miserable sometimes. I worry that you might become so unhappy by your fear that it will become debilitating eventually. That is why I decided to bring up the option.”

“I really appreciate you going out of your way to think about me Albedo. I really do. I think what you’re trying to do is very kind and noble of you. But in all honesty I don’t think that’s going to work. You see, the way my fear works, I just don’t think that exposure is going to make it go away.”

“Are you sure?” Albedo pressed on, still hoping that you might see the benefit in what he was suggesting. “It won’t start with something drastic I promise. And at the end of the day, I think that it will help a lot.”

“I understand that, I really do, but like I said my fear doesn’t work that way.” You paused, as if sensing the sinking of your partner’s heart, before smiling slightly. “If it makes you feel any better I promise to give it some more thought. Alright?”

“Thank you,” Albedo replied, though in his mind he knew that you thinking about it probably wouldn’t change anything.

Thus the cycle continued, with Albedo growing more and more uneasy. He didn’t bring it up with you again, sensing it would be walking over some invisible line, but still his mind whirled in trying to understand what you meant. If your fear wasn’t simply irrational, then surely something must have happened once. Though the alchemist didn’t pry, surely if you wanted him to know you would tell him in your own time, he had to admit that sometimes his brain went off on various daydreams, as if trying to decide for itself what might have happened.

As it turned out, Albedo didn’t have to speculate for long. Nor did the truth come out the way that he had expected.

You two were on the very small dock at Cider Lake, checking the rafts were tied down properly before the beginning of the stormy season that wreaked havoc through Mondstadt once every year. Though normally you probably would have never done such a thing the Guild was spread thin, preparing for storms, though not nearly as fierce as Dvalin’s winds, that would blow shingles off roofs and destabilize the occasional out of place rock on the wall. As of such the task of shielding the boats used to carry supplies from the City to the larger Mondstadt region had fallen to you. Albedo had tagged along, knowing how uncomfortable the experience might make you feel, and unwilling to leave you alone in a state of anxiety.

“These remaining boats are the ones we need to tie down. They’re too big to be stored in the sheds inside the City.”

“I see,” Albedo replied, already moving to nail the tarp down on one of them as you secured the roping. Already the air seemed alive with the fresh smell of impending rain.

“It’s too bad really, we can’t guarantee these boats’ safety the way we can the others. Thankfully these ones are mostly insured by the Knights. Though really maybe we should build a larger shed,” you mused to yourself, keeping up the tell-tale stream of conversation that Albedo knew you used to distract yourself.

“Perhaps you can make a query via the Guild?”

“Perhaps,” you mused. “Or I might be able to ask Amber.”

Albedo replied that would be a good idea, turning to put another temporary nail onto the top of the longboat. All seemed alright for a moment, then there was a shriek and a terrific splashing sound. Whirling around Albedo had just enough time to find your head in the water before you seemed to seize up and your head dipped below the still crystal-clear waves.

Immediately Albedo stripped himself of his coat and dove in. Though no amazing swimmer himself the alchemist was hardly the worst at staying afloat, and even if he only knew a select few amount of swim strokes that paled in comparison to the idea of you drowning. Making his way over to you he fought the panic rising up inside of him, the part of his brain that said it would be much more difficult to rescue someone terrified of water.

However almost as soon as Albedo approached you he noticed that something was distinctly off. Firstly you didn’t seem like you were drowning, in fact you appeared quite graceful in the water, swishing softly back and forth. Secondly the reason for said grace quickly became apparent to Albedo. For in the spot where your legs should have been, indeed in the spot where your legs had been mere moment ago was something long and slightly shimmery and distinctly fish-like.

Letting his mouth fall open Albedo immediately hoisted himself up above the water, choking on the gasp of breath he had found himself taking. What was that, what in all of Teyvat was that? You were half fish. How were you half fish? Did such a thing even exist, for Albedo had certainly never heard of it! Though the alchemist later admitted that in the moment such fantasy creatures as merfolk had completely fallen out of his head, there was something distinctly different than reading about something in a book and seeing it in real life.

Dragging himself onto the shores of Cider Lake, Albedo waited for you to emerge, still breathing heavily from what had just passed. His brain seemed to shut off them, for he found himself with no questions to ask. You were a mermaid, you were simply a mermaid. There was nothing more to do or say about it.

Eventually you joined him on the beach. Albedo watched in an odd sort of fascination as your legs emerged from the scaley fin which your lower body was now made up of. For a moment individual spots of iridescent seemed to remain, but soon your limbs were back to normal, ignoring the fact that you were soaking wet.

“So now you know why I said exposure therapy wouldn’t work out,” you said, letting a grim sort of laugh escape your lips.

“You… you are a… a…”

“A merfolk, yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. “Not sure why I get stuck with the weird power that is more annoying than good but, you know, oops?”

Albedo could sense your vulnerability, but try as he might he couldn’t get the words to come out of his throat. For a moment he sat there, gasping like a fish, but finally the expression of muted misery on your face wormed its way into his brain and finally Albedo felt as if he had regained some ability to talk.

“I think it’s fascinating.”

“Of course you do.”

“No, really. And not just because this is something I’ve never experienced or seen before. Though it was really surprising, it was also wonderful. As an alchemist you study all the wonders and anomalies of nature, and in doing so you see all these differences aren’t just something to be written down, but they also beautiful. And so I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you replied, though you still seemed uncomfortable. “I just, yeah…”

Reaching over to find your hand in his Albedo squeezed your palm softly. For a moment you did nothing, then, slowly, you leaned your head on Albedo’s shoulder. Letting you stay there Albedo found himself wishing that he could convey all the emotions he felt in that moment to you.

“I know that it can be difficult to talk about things that you’ve kept secret, especially when you feel like they make you stand out in a bad way. But I promise, there is nothing wrong with that. And I hope if I made you feel uncomfortable in any way that I can apologize.”

“Thanks Albedo,” you murmured. “You don’t have to say sorry, but thanks anyways.”

“Always.”

“I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.”

Albedo planted a soft kiss on your forehead. As the boats sat, woefully forgotten, the two of you basked in each other’s presence. For Albedo a mystery had been solved, and explanation given that, while not necessarily scientific, was certainly satisfactory. Yet at that moment he couldn’t care less about it. All he could think about was how lonely it must have been, and how, if he could help it, you would never feel isolated in your discomfort or in your secret ever again.

#genshin impact fanfiction #albedo x reader #genshin albedo #genshin impact #requested #oneshot #my writing

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aki-simp · 4 years ago

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Helping hand.

((A/N: Havent written in a while so I feel a bit rusty. This fic was part of a server collab that can be found here! ))

Tags; Megumi x Male!Reader, blackmail, voyeurism, is this dark content? Also nsfw bc Megumi diddles himself hehe

Im sure I dont need to but just incase : Minors go away

Are there words to express the feelings upon watching the one you love moan the name of your classmate as they touch themselves? Surely there must, for whatever you’re feeling is… gut wrenching? Intriguing? Disgusting? Not so much the latter, you conceded as you watched him. Truly, it was anything but.

You took note of the small shivers that wracked his lithe form, the furrow in his brow. The short heady huffs of air he released whenever he squeezed the base of his cock and the whine that accompanied it. In all his naked glory and whatever thoughts of Itadori plagued his mind, he still had yet to notice you.

As usual. Megumi was a perceptive boy, but you felt it failed where it mattered. Every careful word, every sure action done to get his attention. Unintentionally thwarted by Itadori. You don’t blame him, Itadori is a sweet guy. But you can't say that Megumi’s blind eye to your affinity towards him doesn’t sting. As the thoughts of all the times you looked to Megumi only to find his eyes on Itadori swell to a heavy weight in your chest, you hear him groan.

In the time your mind wandered (and you’re confused as to how, because Megumi is breathtaking) you see he has now made himself more…. Comfortable. The bench where he once sat he now lays on, his chest resting along the seat with his ass in the air, one hand slowly inching his long finger into his hole as the other continued its languid strokes along his cock.

You watched his finger slowly disappear inside himself as the desperation dripping from his needy moans fills the small room, the sounds rousing your cock to an almost unfathomable degree. The light sheen of sweat gracing his forehead, the bright tint to his lips from being bitten to hold back moans topped with the small coat of saliva dripping from his mouth is almost too much. Truly a sight to behold, an eternal image you wished to have ingrained into your mind. It was amazing watching how effortlessly his fingers slid into himself, as if he’d done something like this many times before. And with his sudden cry upon hitting a certain spot, you can tell he has.

Your hand travels to the front of your pants in an effort to quell the unbearable tightness, palming yourself you can feel your watery precum leaking through your boxers. Slowly pulling your cock out, you bite back a stinging hiss as the chilling air touches your head. As your eyes travel back to Megumi’s quivering form, you pump your hand in time with his fingers, imagining the feeling of his warm hole clenching around you. A heady breath is held in your chest, the air in the room reaching a stifling degree.

Over the slick wet sounds of Megumi’s fingers in his hole and his wanton moans, it’s no wonder he couldn’t hear your soft pants just beyond the door. Lost in his own world that you very much wished to be the center of, the pang of jealousy returns to your chest once more when he moans a name once again that is not yours. Watching him with a seething envy of simply wishing he would notice you, wanting to be the one who he dreamed of, the one he pined for. The grip on your cock speeding up at the thought of marching up to him, prying his legs open and making him realize that Itadori is simply who he wants but you are what he needs.

A gasp catches in your throat at the sinister idea that flies through your psyche. With the shaky hand not wrapped around your cock, you slowly reach into your pocket. It pains you to tear your gaze away from Megumi’s flushed and tear filled face, but you’d be able to see it again soon enough. You’ve had it for years, but the phone in your hand somehow feels different now. Be it due to the impending orgasm from watching Megumi in his most vulnerable and debauched state or the fact that your thumb hovered over the camera button with its lens angled right at Megumi’s perky ass, the device felt sacred.

Taking a deep, focusing breath, you quickly check to make sure the flash is off before finally pressing ‘Record’. Swallowing, you zoom in on Megumi’s blissed expression just in time to see his eyes roll back, tongue lolling out from between his bitten red lips. The sultry moan of Itadori’s name makes you curl your upper lip, an urticate reminder that despite the show Megumi has unknowingly put on for you that it is not you who he touches himself to the thought of.

As you watched the flush on his cheeks grow in colour, you could feel the blood rush to your cock, causing it to throb painfully. You kneel, feeling the cold floor in contrast to the rising heat of your body at seeing Megumi not only in front of you moaning without a care in the world but knowing it would be on your phone to view again and again; whenever and however you wish sent a feeling akin to euphoria rushing through your blood. It was almost too cruel, knowing how awful the boy would feel if he knew, but you love Megumi too much to hurt him, you think. Keeping the video to yourself for a while wouldn't hurt anyone, and you definitely weren't complaining.

Your attention is drawn away from the screen view of Megumi to the real deal as he changes his position. This one hides his face, but the new angle ensures you a perfect view of his ass and the flushed leaking cock below it. Whether it was this new display of Megumi’s vulnerable state or the blood leaving your brain to make your cock throb, it seemed the wet squelches of his fingers desperately in search of something deep within his wet hole. Megumi must have thought the same thing as a string of stuttered curses leave his lips before being consumed by a heady groan. Even without seeing his face, you can tell he's drooling, you can imagine it coating his lips.

A knot in your stomach threatens to burst as Megumi’s breathy pants grow. If it hadn't been for the fact that you knew he would never do something like this, you would almost believe he knew he was being watched. The arch of his back, the rock of his hips onto his nimble fingers and the hand furiously stroking his cock was enough to make a masterpiece. Megumi was beautiful, and you would show him.

The hand stroking his cock picks up speed just as Megumi's breath stutters and you slowly, subconsciously lean in. At one last shrill cry of a name that isn’t yours, Megumi cums, a shuddering whiney and sweaty mess. The orgasm that makes its way through you almost makes you drop your phone, but you remember to keep it steady and the look on Megumi's face as he sits up in his post orgasm bliss is worth it. Tears clinging to his lashes, the sheen of saliva on his lips, and a small red spot on his cheek from resting it on the bench, all coming together to create the perfect picture for you to reach your climax as well.

A small taste of blood fills your mouth as you bite your lip to keep any noises at bay. You continue to watch him in your post orgasm haze, admiring his features as you always have. Although you still wished it had been you who Megumi cried out for, you let out a soundless laugh, shaking your head. Putting yourself back into your pants after closing the video, you take one last look at Megumi, as he also composed himself to leave. As he turns his back to the door, you silently slip out.

The walk back to your room was quiet. Images of Megumi flashing behind your eyes as you aimlessly walked the halls. You look out one of the many windows adorning the halls to see a full bright moon. Before reaching your door, you make one last stop at a vending machine for a cool drink. The drink seems to help, soothing the last dregs of nervousness and anticipation before the light padding of footsteps reaches your ears. Quickly turning to the source of the noise, you look just in time to see Megumi slip by. Your gasp is interrupted by the liquid in your mouth, and Megumi turns to your coughing form. “Are you alright?” he inquires with a raised brow, half hearted sincerity laced in his voice.

With a few quick, harsh thumps of your fist to your chest, you nod. “Yeah,” you let out with a shaky voice. “Just caught off guard is all.” you finish with an unsure smile. He hums before looking you over. You watch his eyes travel down your form and you quickly glance down to make sure nothing looks out of place before looking back up to him, his eyes boring into yours. He blinks slowly, his eyebrows furrowed.

Shaking his head, he looks at you once more before asking “What are you doing out here so late?”. Taking a slow sip of your drink before letting out a fulfilling sigh, you look at him and shrug.

“Eventful day made me a bit restless I guess.” you quip before turning to take your leave. He hums as you can feel him watching you as you walk away. You almost wish he could see the smile adorning your face, maybe then, the fake worry in his voice would finally lead to something more. Just like you’ve always wanted.

——————————————————————-———————-———

The next day during class, your mind wanders back to the night before. You attempt to keep your hands busy to keep yourself from growing hard in your slacks. And subconsciously to keep you from grinning at Megumi like a madman. You could practically feel your hands vibrate whenever you held your phone at the thought of what it stored. The smile that etched its way onto your face sadly did not go as unnoticed as you would have hoped for. Your head perks up when Gojo inquires what girl you were texting that made you so giddy before laughing.

You turn away from Gojo, shaking your head. As you make your way out of the classroom, you look at Megumi before stopping. “Hey.” You start, trying to keep your face neutral. The same thrum of adrenaline after last night coming back to you. When the boy in question looks up to the sound of your voice, you have to clench your fists to not allow any more of your emotions through. “Can I talk to you later? It’s not important, it's just…..” you let the sentence trail off, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions.

And like the good boy you know him to be, he doesn’t. The boy solemnly nods before returning back to the work on his desk. Before leaving, you tell him you’ll stop by his room after classes. After hearing the door click shut, you begin a slow, deliberate walk back to your room in anticipation. Upon sitting on your bed, you take the time to stare at your ceiling, pondering what Megumi will say. What Megumi will do. The blush is imminent , he’s such a reserved guy that being face to face with video evidence of him in such a debauched state would surely fluster him.

Would he cry? Would he get angry? Try to fight you? The mental image of Megumi crying and clinging to you, begging you to delete the video made you sigh. Imagining his lashes heavy with tears, his bottom lip trembling as he stares up at you as if you held his life in your hands which, inadvertently, you practically did. The surge of pride that coursed through you at the thought of having him wrapped around your fingers almost makes you laugh.

Before long, the sounds of laughter and footsteps of students returning to their rooms pulls you from your power induced daydream. Standing from your bed, you let out one long steadying sigh before making your way to Megumi’s room. You spot Itadori along the way, he smiles telling you Megumi is already in his room. How wonderful. How obedient.

Gently knocking on his door, you stand and wait patiently for him to reach the door and the sight of him in casual wear softens your heart. You don’t have time to wonder how he changed so fast or why, but he ushers you into his room nonetheless. He motions for you to sit on his bed as he takes his place in a nearby desk chair.

He opens his mouth to speak, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “So…. you need something?” he questions as he watches you look around his room. The silence is stifling, making Megumi shift in his seat before looking at you again. “Look man, I don’t know what you-“

“As a sorcerer, you should be more aware of your surroundings.” The interruption makes Megumi flinch, though he would deny it. Brows furrowed, Megumi goes to question exactly what you mean before you turn to him, the smirk you had been hiding all day on full display. “Don’t you think if you’re gonna finger your ass in a public place you should have the decency to at least make sure you’re alone?”

All the daydreaming in the world could not prepare you for the look of shock and hurt that adorned the young man's face. The scoff you produce makes Megumi's blood boil, rushing to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. Cute. An expression of disgust takes over his features as he stands. He lets out a humorless laugh as he stands. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re a god damn pervert.” The shake in his clenched fists, the twitch of his eyebrow, you admire it all. It would almost be scary if this situation had not transpired because he quite literally got caught with his dick in his hand.

“If I’m a pervert,” you start, making your way to Megumi to stare down at him past the bridge of your nose. You swiftly grab his chin in one hand, and use the other to block the hand he tried to swipe at you with. “what would Itadori think of you?” The raw indignation from Megumi’s scowl was truly one of the better parts of this whole ordeal.

You can feel him clench his jaw under your grasp, and his attempt to pull himself free from your grasp. “And why would you tell him? You’d look just as bad as I do, recording your classmate jacking off-“ his sentence cut short by the pained sound from you squeezing his jaw. The smirk you wore before is long gone, instead replaced with a cold stare that Megumi won’t soon forget.

“You are loud. Just like you were last night. Calling out to a man who you and I both know doesn’t feel the same. Truly, Megumi. You’re better than this.” You shove him away, pushing him so that he stumbles onto his bed. He makes a move to stand again, but the steady hand on his chest and you standing between his legs stops him. “But this can be our secret. He doesn’t have to know, and you can continue crying and calling out to him all you want.” You chuckle, slowly pushing him down onto his bed and sliding your hand to his throat.

He keeps his scowl on, but his labored breathing tells you another story. “For? I doubt you came all the way here just to laugh at me.” You smile at him, not as sinister as before, and slowly slide your free hand up his side. Megumi hates that he shudders, but he hates your laugh even more. You abruptly stand, walking to his door before looking at him over your shoulder.

“I’ll keep your dirty little secret so long as you don’t mind lending me a helping hand from time to time~” Megumi sits up, confused. He opens his mouth to ask what you mean before you close the door. You pull out your phone to send the illicit video to Megumi. The small chime of his phone and the anguished groan he lets out upon seeing that you had physical proof of his lapse in judgement, made the whole thing that much sweeter. Before walking back to your room once more, you send him a text.

“So I’m free this weekend. What about you?”

#megumi x reader #i am not good at tags #aaaaaaaaa #listen im just a megumi simp with brainrot Ill add more tags later

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multiverse-muse · 4 years ago

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Little Lamb (Thor soulmate au)

as the title says, this is a soulmate story for Thor, where your first words to your soulmate manifest themselves as tattoos

One day, you’d learn not to visit New York. Your first time to the city, there ended up being an alien invasion and you’d been through months of therapy since. You get up the courage to visit the City again and now an extremist group was attempting to claim buildings and overtake the Avengers.

In the way of selfish human beings, the evacuation had been anything but calm and you’d been jostled and knocked aside, landing on your leg and hearing a faint crack. Between the panic and noise, no one noticed you still on the floor and eventually you were left alone. Of course.

You make it down two flights of stairs -why’d you need to go to this department so bad anyway?- before you can’t hold yourself up anymore. You situated yourself enough so that the pain in your leg was only a dull throb and kept trying to use your phone to reach an emergency line, to no avail. You’re not entirely sure how long you’d been laying there, alternately yelling for help and accepting your doom, when a not-so distant explosion rocks the building. Despite your attempt at calming yourself, you could feel true terror boiling up.

That feeling was only amplified when you hear a window in a level above shatter and a loud thud as something - or someone?- lands.Even higher beyond that, you hear more noise, more mechanical. You hear only one set of footsteps bounding down the stairs. You’re not sure what to expect - someone coming to kill you? A terrorist trying to escape? The man that emerges is not anything you’d expected. Thor, of the Avengers, his face slightly pulling in concern.

“You are not meant to be here.” He says. As if you’d decided to just hang out.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You hiss back at him, flinching as another explosion shakes the building. Any other time you’d be intimidated by the large, handsome man but right now was certainly not the time for you to be fussed at.You could hear fighting above. A slow, wide grin appears on his face.

“I believe I may be your soulmate.” Thor says. You glance at him again, mouth half open to snap at him again, brain slowly processing his former words. He approaches you slowly, giving you a once-over. “You’re injured?”

“Y-yeah, my leg.” You answer, still bewildered. “How did you even know I was down here?”

“Friday said there was another heat signature down here, we wanted to make certain all civilians were safe.” Thor answers, kneeling down and testing your hurt leg. You make a slight choking noise when he brushes against your knee and Thor frowns. “Were you left here?”

“Ah, well, there was a stampede basically and I can’t really get down the stairs.” You reply. Thor’s face is a flurry of anger and calculation, before he reaches up, activating his earpiece.

“Yes, I found them. No, just one, they’re-” Thor pauses, glancing at you and a grin breaking out across his face. “They’re my heart’s chosen.” You can almost hear the response from your position on the floor, your face aflame even as Thor winces at the noise in his ear.

He says something else into the earpiece but you don't catch it over the sound of rumbling and fighting from above. Thor catches your scared expression and kneels back to your side.

“Would you permit me to pick you up, my lamb?” He asks and you manage to nod before he sweeps you up, holding you effortlessly against him. Even with the careful way he’s holding you, your leg pulses in pain and you find the breath knocked out of you. You wince, flinching into his chest and Thor frowns, making sure to hold you as if you were porcelain.

Flying through the air would probably have been more exhilarating if you hadn’t been injured and fearful for your life, during a bad guy invasion.

“Here.” Thor says as he lands. You manage to pry your eyes open and are astonished to find yourself on the ledge of the Avengers Tower. “Friday has alerted a physician to your injuries, they’re waiting to look at you.”

“Is it even safe here?” You ask. Thor carries you through the door where, indeed, a young professional-looking woman is waiting. He gives you a considering glance as he sets you down on the couch, the woman immediately stepping up to take a look at you.

“There is nowhere safer, I can assure you.” Thor pauses, then grins. “Well, besides next to me, my lamb, but it seems I'm required to save New York once again.”

#thor x reader #thor imagine #thor reader insert #thor x yn #mcu imagine #mcu reader insert #mcu yn #mcu soulmate

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firstofficerwiggles · 4 years ago

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Beskar and Lace

Pairing: Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Warnings: SMUT! swearing, masturbation, voyeurism (just a touch), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (be safe in the real world, people)

Summary: Mando takes issue with what you wear to bed, so you decide to show him some other options and spiciness ensues.

Word Count: ~8700

Author’s Note: This was an idea I had when I wrote Dress Code but I couldn’t find a way to make it fit into that story so I wrote it as a stand-alone. If you’ve read my other stuff, you should know this is the smuttiest thing I’ve written to date, but while it’s not the softer Din I’ve written in the past, he still manages to be romantic in his own way. In any case, I hope you enjoy!

“Do you always dress like that for bed?” Mando’s voice catches you by surprise. He sounds a bit incredulous and you’re caught off guard because usually you’re already in bed fast asleep before he’s down here. You look down at your simple knee-length cotton nightgown, why should he care what you wear to bed?

“Yes? It’s a nightgown,” you reply, unsure of his reason for asking.

“It’s rather skimpy.” His voice sounds gruff, and disapproving?

You just blink back at the visor in his helmet for a moment and then glance down at yourself again in confusion.

“Skimpy?” He must be joking. “This is just like a longer shirt? I know it has short sleeves but, really, skimpy?” Now your voice sounds incredulous. This nightgown doesn’t even have much shape to it anymore having been washed and worn so often. Mando is standing there rigidly though, seemingly serious. You watch him as he tips his helmet down and up as if he is looking you over thoroughly and you feel your skin heat up under his gaze.

“It’s skimpy. I can practically see through it.” He says definitively. “You should cover up more. Space is cold.” His voice is still gruff and his commanding tone is starting to irritate you a bit, although you do have to tamp down your excitement at the see-through comment. Who does he think he is? You’re not some bounty he can push around. And why are you interested in him seeing through your nightgown??

“I’ve been wearing this every night since I took this job, and I’m perfectly comfortable” you tell him “besides, I don’t see what business it is of yours.” You reply a little haughty in an attempt to keep this conversation somewhat professional, Mando is your boss after all. You’ve been caring for his foundling for about six months now.

“It’s my business if you get sick.” Mando retorts.

“I’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes at his suggestion. He’s being ridiculous. “You’re worrying about nothing.”

Mando lets out one of his long-suffering sighs as if you are the burden of his existence before telling you, “We’ll be in Canto Bight tomorrow. There are plenty of shops there and I expect you to buy yourself some new to wear to bed.”

“Alright, fine.” His tone implies that you shouldn’t argue with him about this. He turns abruptly and heads to his bunk, closing the door without another word.

What the hell was that? You stare after him, utterly perplexed by that conversation. Again, you look down at the nightgown, and while you have to admit it is looking rather old and maybe a little ratty, you would never see it as something skimpy or even something that Mando would see necessary to comment on. You wonder for a minute if something else could be bothering him, perhaps he was just taking a bad mood out on you? You rack your brain but things have been rather routine lately and you chalk it up to Mando being under a lot of stress as per usual. You head to your sleeping area, a little space you’ve carved out for yourself in a corner of the hull, and try to will your mind to sleep. Yet, you can’t stop replaying the whole conversation in your head. You also can’t stop the evil part of your mind that wants to jump for joy that Mando was looking over your body so intently. Ok, so maybe you have had one or two (or three or four) improper thoughts about your boss. I mean you’re not made of stone. He’s so tall and big and built it would make any woman a little curious. Then when you add in that constant bedroom voice that he has, it’s completely understandable. At least that’s what you tell yourself. Plus, he’s also a great father, so kind and caring towards his adopted son – your evil mind has no mercy on you. You roll over with a groan, mentally kicking yourself for your full-blown crush on the Mandalorian. I am an idiot.

I am a total idiot. What the fuck must she think of me? Din can’t sleep either; he is also plagued with thoughts of you. Not that this is anything new for him. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you for months and months now. Din knows that he needs your help to care for the little one and he has tried so hard to be professional around you and not scare you off. From the moment he hired you he thought you were way too pretty, but he was so desperate for the help that he told himself he wouldn’t become distracted. Clearly, that was a lie. Whenever he’s around you, he can’t stop himself from being distracted, watching you tenderly care for the child, listening for your laughter and happy words, and living for the moments when you turn towards him with a smile or a kind gesture. Oh and if he thought you were pretty when you first met, now Din realizes that you are the most beautiful woman he’s ever known. Everything about you seems to turn him on, the curve of your lips when you say his nickname, the scent of your hair when it’s still damp from the shower, the sway of your hips when you rock the baby to sleep, the few times you’ve touched his bicep between his armor, all of it.

Ugh, but tonight, tonight was the closest he’s come to losing control around you. Usually Din tries to give you as much space as possible, waiting until he knows you’re in bed before going to bed himself. Except tonight, he came downstairs earlier than usual, and saw you wearing that thin little excuse for a nightgown. His heart skipped several beats when he realized he could see the outline of your figure right through it. It had him hard and wanting in seconds and so, he had picked a bit of a fight with you to preserve some semblance of normalcy. He sighed to himself again, he had sounded like a prudish jerk. But it was the right choice, and besides, you should get new nightclothes, something that would cover you up and keep his eyes off you. Who the fuck are you kidding? You’re still going to look at her. He groans at himself.

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

With the baby in tow in his little satchel, you explore the wealth of shopping in Canto Bight. Mando wasn’t kidding when he said there were plenty of stores here. It seems like the only things to do here are gamble, shop, and party. Mando is meeting with a client and for once, he’s given you some freedom to explore. You’re in one of the nicer casinos here and there are plenty of other tourists around, so you know that it must be safe or Mando would insist on accompanying you. Fortunately, you haven’t had to make many purchases in the time that you’ve been with Mando. He never lets you chip in for food or fuel, so you’ve mostly been saving your credits all this time. As you pass through the shops today, you marvel at the beautiful clothes, shoes, the fancy housewares, and so much more. You can’t resist buying the child a couple adorable plushy toys, including a frog that he immediately tries to eat before you gently explain to him that it is a toy. You decide to focus after that on your mission to buy a new nightgown and maybe some pajamas. You’ve made a few purchases, finding a couple soft pairs of pajamas that will be very relaxing and a very boring nightgown that comes down to your ankles, Mando’s style exactly, shows almost no skin. There’s no way he can find fault with these. As you continue through the shopping center, the baby suddenly reaches out as you pass a shop to grab something blue and silky. When you pry his little claws off the material, thankful that he hasn’t damaged it in any way, you realize it is a beautiful negligee. You look up at the rest of the store to see a lovely collection of mouth-watering lingerie. Evil You is back in a heartbeat. Maybe you should show Mando the true meaning of skimpy?

“Come in, come in!” The friendly sales woman sees you lingering at the entrance, “Everything is on sale today and we have so many fabulous items for you!” Her spirit and energy are captivating and you can’t help yourself. You follow her into the shop, letting your wicked thoughts get the best of you. You find yourself telling her that you need some sexy items for bedtime and the next thing you know you’re in the dressing room trying on increasingly delectable pieces of silk and lace. The baby has made himself at home in the waiting area sitting on a satin pillow and being fed fancy macarons by another sales woman, acting like the little prince that he is.

You admire yourself in the mirror, and although you have to admit that you look great, you can’t stop the debate going on in your head.

I am being ridiculous, buying lingerie to impress a man I’m not even involved with.

Yet! You’re not involved with him yet.

Shut up, I shouldn’t be thinking of Mando like this.

Why not? He’s hot, you’re hot, stop overthinking it.

I do look pretty hot in this.

Yes, you do! And you can buy it for yourself too. You deserve to look hot!

It’s ok if it’s for me. I can buy this for me. I’m a strong, confident, sexy woman who buys herself lingerie.

Of course you are!!!

And who is Mando to tell me what I can and can’t wear? If I want to wear something skimpy, I will.

That’s right, girl! You’ll show him!

You’ve completely talked yourself into buying several of the negligees, one of which is so sexy you’re not sure if you really have the confidence to wear it, but you’re feeling daring. You justify it in your mind by reminding yourself that everything is on sale, and who knows when you’ll have another opportunity to shop like this. You even end up getting a bottle of scented lotion that the saleswoman recommends as guaranteed to drive your man wild. Not that you care about that, you lie to yourself, it’s for you, the strong, confident, sexy woman.

“That was completely necessary,” you tell the baby as you brush the cookie crumbs from his robe and resettle him in his satchel while the sales women box up all of your purchases. They even include a bag of macarons for the child for later; he’s thoroughly charmed the women working here, and gives everyone a happy coo and waves goodbye like you taught him. You head back to the Razor Crest, thinking that you should probably quit before you get yourself into too much trouble.

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

It takes a while to get the baby to bed that evening as he’s still wound up on all the sugar and is likely reacting to the buzzing energy you have going on. Evil You has decided to be sure that Mando sees you in one of your new negligees tonight. He saw all of your boxes and bags earlier and gave you a brisk nod in seeing that you followed his instructions. You even went so far as to pull out the modest nightgown to demonstrate how well you listened to him, all the while, Evil You was cackling about what you really have in store for him. While he’s still up in the cockpit, you take your time getting ready for bed. You moisturize your skin all over with your new lotion, it does smell divine, and then you put on a beautiful black silk chiffon chemise with pale pink lace trim. It’s sexy without giving too much away, but still the hemline reaches only to mid-thigh and the neckline provides a generous view of your décolletage. And unlike the shapelessness of the old gown, this shows off your figure flawlessly. Your timing is perfect as you are just coming out of the fresher when Mando’s boots hit the floor of the hull. When he turns and sees you he stops dead and is so still you’d think he’d been frozen in carbonite like one of his bounties except you can still hear him breathing, rather heavily, you think. You decide to feign innocence, blinking up at him to say, “Oh, good night, Mando! Just on my way to bed.”

He stares at you for what feels like an eternity, not moving at all, until he grits out, “What. Is. That.”

“Oh! It’s one of my new nightgowns,” you keep up the wide-eyed act, “The sales woman said it was one of the most popular styles.” You even give a little half twirl to show it off, oh Maker, I am too much. You desperately want to ask him what he thinks but something tells you that you shouldn’t push him anymore yet.

“That is not the nightgown you showed me before,” his voice sounds accusatory.

You give a dainty shrug and say, “I was feeling too warm for that one.”

Mando doesn’t respond, but you watch as his hands curl into fists making the leather of his gloves squeak with the tightness. He watches you for a few more seconds before he abruptly turns away from you and stomps back up the ladder to the cockpit. Uh-oh that wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get from him. Should I go apologize? Did I offend him by flouting some type of Mandalorian modesty rule?

In the cockpit, Din is absolutely shuddering with the strength of his need for you. His beskar feels claustrophobic and he has to rip the helmet off his head just so he can draw a full breath. He throws himself into the pilot’s seat and is already undoing his trousers to free his rock-hard cock before he even knows what he’s doing. He pulls off his right glove and quickly licks his palm, before gripping himself roughly, so he can fuck his own fist at a punishing pace. Seeing you in that lingerie, Maker, it was better than anything his imagination had invented. Plus, the way you smelled, like some type of delicious fruit mixed with an earthy spice. He thought he was going to pass out from how fast all the blood in his body had rushed to his groin. As he pumps himself, Din moans your name and thinks about you wearing that negligee while riding his cock right here in his chair. He fantasizes about how he could tug down those delicate little straps and free your breasts with almost no effort, and how good that silk would feel swishing against his skin as he thrust up into you. It was enough to send him over the edge, cumming with another loud moan of your name. Does she have any idea what she’s doing to me?

Well, you had some idea now. Your entire body was tingling and hot after hearing Mando’s sounds of self-pleasure coming from the cockpit. After his abrupt departure, you had stayed dithering for a few moments in the hull, until you had started to climb the ladder with a plan to check on him and possibly apologize. However, as soon as you realized what he was doing up there you froze and remained out of view. You knew you should have crept back down and given him some privacy, but when you heard him call out your name, it was like nothing could move you from that spot. He wanted you. It made you giddy with desire and you felt a surge of feminine power that you could bring out such a feeling in him. Hearing Mando like that had turned you on like nothing before and you were eager to touch yourself too, but the shuffling sounds of his boots suddenly brought you back to reality and you dashed to your bed as stealthily as you could. You resorted to squeezing your thighs together under the covers and pretending to sleep as you heard him return to the hull. It wasn’t until you were certain he was shut away in his own sleeping quarters, that you finally allowed yourself to dip your fingers into your soaking folds. Holding your other hand over your mouth to stifle any moans, you drew rapid circles around your clit and remembered how Mando had groaned your name. You were so excited that all it took was one finger into your wet heat and you were seeing stars as you reached your climax. You fell into a blissful sleep, dreaming about what you were going to wear tomorrow night.

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

The next day you woke up cheerful, still high from your discovery the night before. You remembered that Mando had said his next bounty was far away and that you’d be in hyperspace for almost four days, which meant you would have plenty of time to spend with him. You practically bounded out of bed, eager to start your day.

Din noticed your happy mood right away as it was such a contrast to his own frustrated and grouchy disposition that morning. His dreams had been full of you, and he had woken up hard and needy but was too angry at his lack of self-control to let himself indulge in jerking off again. He had been banging around the hull like an angry bear for most of the morning, but when you softly approached him with a plate of food and hot cup of tea, and that beaming smile on your face, he felt himself give in a little to your positivity. Then, the friendly way you had patted his pauldron and wished him a good morning, had stifled any desire to grumble at you. It’s not her fault you’re like this.

The rest of the day had passed surprisingly well and Din found his mood lifting substantially. His usual plan to shut himself away somewhere hadn’t panned out as you seemed to seek him out all day long. First, you had him playing games with you and the baby, then, you had decided it was lesson time and you asked Din to help you with that (you were trying to teach the child colors), and then later when the child was napping, you had come to sit near him, drawing him into conversation. In addition to being around him, it also seemed like you couldn’t stop touching him. All day you had found ways to make contact, a small squeeze of his bicep to get his attention, a brush of your hand on his back as you passed him, a little pat on his knee when he praised the child for knowing what blue was, and a couple others that didn’t appear to have any particular meaning. Not that he was complaining; Din lived for those small touches. The day had turned out to be pleasant and he was looking forward to getting some better sleep tonight.

Din had just finished putting away his dinner dishes when he heard you coming out of the fresher and heading towards your sleeping area. He knew you would need to pass by him and he had steeled himself for seeing you. He felt confident that he could keep everything in check tonight, telling himself it had only been the shock of seeing you in such a revealing outfit that had provoked him so much last night. Now that he knew what you’d be wearing, he could handle it, he was prepared. Except you weren’t wearing the same thing, oh no, tonight you had some silky red number on that clung tightly to every curve and only barely covered your ass. To make matters worse, he could see your hard nipples right through the material.

“Dank farrik!”

“Excuse me?” You startled at the sudden curse being uttered.

Shit, he’d said that aloud, “I uh, I stubbed my toe” he lies to you, like an idiot. He tries to turn away from you in hopes of putting you off.

“Oh no, are you ok?” You head toward him with concern in your eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck you’re getting closer to him and reaching out a hand like you intend to touch him again. If you touch him right now there won’t be any way he can control himself, he’ll have you up against that wall in a heartbeat, or maybe tossed over those crates, shit, get it the fuck together. He practically jumps away from you, mutters something about the fresher, and makes a mad dash to the shower. He turns the water to the coldest setting and rips off his armor and clothes as hastily as he can. The jolt to his system from the icy stream is enough to help his mind calm down a little but it’s doing nothing for his raging erection. He groans and reaches to stroke himself. Before he knows it, he’s painting his stomach with his release, coming so hard he pounds his other fist against the wall as he cries out your name. He’s thankful that at least the water should drown out any sounds.

Out in the hull, you’re lounging on your bed, trying to stay awake so you can see Mando one more time before he bolts away from you again. You know he has to have gotten a fairly decent look at you in tonight’s lingerie, but banging his toe seemed to have distracted him completely. Which was odd because you’d known Mando to sustain much worse injuries with little to no reaction in the past. Unless he was only using the toe as an excuse? Maybe he’s not really that into you? Had he dashed away to spare you any embarrassment? Perhaps last night had been a one off. But then today you could have sworn he was responding to your flirting. You’re going back and forth in your mind when you suddenly hear a loud bang coming from the fresher followed by a loud groan of your name that you can hear even over the running water. Oh, he’s into me. Evil You surges to the surface and has you readjusting your position on the bed to look as seductive as possible. When Mando finally comes out of the fresher, he is wearing nothing but his helmet and his trousers, giving you a fantastic view of his gorgeous chest and torso, bare and still wet from his shower. It’s the most of his skin you’ve ever had the privilege of seeing. You can’t keep your mouth from dropping open as you stare at him.

“You’re still awake,” Mando stops dead when he realizes you’re watching him.

“Uh, yeah, just uh, wanted to make sure, uh, you were ok?” You try to keep your eyes trained on his visor, but you keep failing, getting distracted by the muscles in his chest. Maker, looking up at him from this angle he is so tall and broad.

“I’m f- fine.” He pauses for a long moment remaining statue like, before saying, “Go to sleep. I mean, uh, you should, uh, go to sleep.” It doesn’t seem like he is going to move while you watch him.

“Ok, well, good night then.” You feel disappointed, but roll over and wrap yourself in your blankets. His sigh of relief is small but noticeable in the quiet of the hull. Mando switches off the lights and then you hear his soft shuffle as he heads to his own bed. He pauses though when he gets closer to you. It seems like he’s just standing there looking down at you in the dark, and then you hear his deep voice, “Good night.”

“I hope you sleep well,” you reply softly. He makes a slight sound that almost sounds like “yeah, right” but you can’t be completely sure before he shuts himself away in his bunk. Oh well, you’ll try again one more time tomorrow, you can wear the really sexy one, at least Evil You is still optimistic.

Meanwhile, Din is trying to figure out what the hell is going on. He can’t stop picturing the expression on your face when he was standing there shirtless. Had you been looking at him with shock or desire? It didn’t help matters that you had been sprawled out on your bed looking like the Goddess of Temptation making him painfully hard yet again. He isn’t thinking clearly, it had to be shock, you had never seen him like that, he was always covered, even if it was only in the clothing he wore under the beskar. But what if it was desire? He groans to himself. Even if it had been desire, he’d made a complete ass of himself, and what was he supposed to do now, go back out there and try to get into bed with you?

Yes, do that, you idiot.

Why so she can punch me?

She might not.

Shut up, dumbass!

Din rolls over, sighing to himself, resigning himself to another long night.

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

It’s your turn to groan under the water in the shower, but sadly not from pleasure. It had been a trying day. To say that Mando had been in a mood was an understatement. He had been downright grouchy bordering on sullen. To make matters worse, the child fed off his adoptive father’s terrible disposition and had been extremely fussy all day. You had poured enthusiasm into trying to rouse their spirits, but the more you tried, the more your two boys dug in their heels and refused to be cheered. Eventually, you had given up and just settled for quiet, but the baby had taken that as a personal affront and had a very loud tantrum that had included magically flinging things around the ship. Thank the Maker you still had the bag of macarons from Canto Bight, which you promptly bribed him with to get him to stop. You’d let him eat the entire bag and yeah, that was a parenting don’t, but you were at your wits end and would have given him anything to just make the screaming end. Of course, afterwards, you had the exhausting job of chasing after him all over the ship as he celebrated his sugar high, but at least he was happy. Mando, on the other hand, had taken to working on fix-it projects on the ship, which seemed to really be an excuse for him to swear and bang at something all afternoon. You’d hoped it might help him work out some frustration, but he seemed just as grouchy as ever, barely saying two words to you since you brought him his dinner. So yeah, you aren’t feeling stellar this evening.

The plans for your spicy surprise for Mando have all but disappeared. Before coming into the fresher, you had taken a long look at both the incredibly sexy lace lingerie and the ultra-modest, covers-everything, I-give-up nightgown. You had grabbed both before coming in here, but you still weren’t sure which one you ought to put on. As you turn off the water, you see them both sitting there, hot versus ho-hum. You know if you put on the boring nightgown, ho-hum is exactly how you are going to feel. Fuck that, I want to feel hot, even if Mando doesn’t care. Mind made up, you grab the new bottle of lotion with a smirk, rubbing the delicious scent all over your skin. Finally turning to the lingerie, you put on the gorgeous set. You weren’t kidding when you said this one was sexy. This negligee is black lace with a metallic silver thread sparkling throughout. The bodice consists of two lace panels that just barely cover your breasts and end in a deep vee right above your navel. The lace of the very short skirt is so sheer that if it weren’t for the matching panties you’re wearing, everything would have been visible. The whole look leaves very little to the imagination, but you don’t care, if this doesn’t get a reaction out of the Mandalorian, your only other option is to walk around naked in front of him. Hey, now there’s an idea! Evil You is ready to be unleased.

Din has been finishing up fixing some wiring in the hull and he is finally letting himself relax a smidgen. He’d see the bunch of fabric you’d taken with you to the fresher and he realized it had to be the modest nightgown. Finally, it seems like you’ve come to your senses. Nonetheless, he’d had to tamp down the part of him that was disappointed. This is for the best. He hears the fresher door open and before he can lift his head, he can smell that intoxicating fragrance again. It will be ok, he can get past that, he’ll just say good night and go to bed, that’s all, but then he turns and sees you. The tools in his hands clatter to the ground.

“Fuuuck” Mando swears like he’s in slow motion, drawing out the word in his surprise.

“Hi, Mando,” you say simply, but flirtatiously.

“Hi?!?” He sounds incredulous, “Is that all you- you just stand there, like that and just hi?”

“What do you want me to say?” You tip your head, coquettishly blinking up at him.

Mando makes a choking sound and then grits out, “I don’t know, maybe an explanation for how you’ve lost your mind, or at least your clothes.”

“You told me to buy something new for bed. This is definitely meant to be in a bed.” You gesture towards your lace-covered figure. “Plus, I do remember you using the word skimpy quite a bit during that conversation.”

“I meant for you to buy something that wasn’t-- hell, this isn’t even skimpy; it’s practically non-existent.” He sounds like he is in pain. “Maker, woman, how much self-control do you think I have?!?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to find out,” you retort with a little smirk. Apparently, you’ve reached the end of it with that statement, because suddenly he is advancing toward you pinning you up against the bulkhead with his hips pressed hard into you and his hands on either side of your head. You can feel the hot, hard length of him against your hip and you let out a little groan.

“Have you been taunting me all this time?” His voice has a dangerous edge to it that sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

“I wouldn’t say taunting, more like enticing you.” You drag one of your legs up the length of his until you can hook it around his hip and pull him in closer to you.

Din can’t believe you’ve been doing this deliberately the whole time. He also can’t believe he ever bought your whole innocent act. It’s clear you planned this out to get back at him for being an asshole about your nightgown in the first place. To be honest though the thought of you shopping for lingerie for him, has him so turned on he doesn’t really care. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to have to pay you back a little for torturing him these last few days.

“Enticing me?” Mando repeats with a small snort, “You sure you want to do that?” His body doesn’t really wait for your answer though as his hand comes down to grip your raised thigh tightly and urge it higher while he grinds his hips into you.

“Yes,” you pant out, “yes, I want to do that.” His movements are making you hotter than ever as you can feel his cock rubbing against your core. Mando brings his hand back up so he can grope your breast, kneading it roughly before rolling the sensitive peak of your nipple between his fingers and then moves to give its twin the same attention. He leans in closer to you so he can speak right into your ear.

“Do you like this? Letting me rut up against you, touching you, squeezing your tits. Getting you all worked up.” He rolls his hips up to rub his cock right across your clit. You let your head fall back against the wall and you gasp out in pleasure. “Or were you already turned on from teasing me?”

“I like it,” you breathe out.

“And the teasing?” He pinches your nipple hard making you cry out. He’s turning you into a mess, but his voice sounds controlled.

“Wasn’t-- wasn’t trying to tease,” you try to sound convincing but it’s hard when he’s distracting you so well.

“I don’t know, I think you were,” Mando sounds smug now, “I think you were enjoying it. Maybe I’ll enjoy teasing you.” And then suddenly he pulls away from you completely, dropping your leg with a small thump.

“What? No, no don’t stop.” You can’t help the whine in your voice.

“Why? Too hot and bothered? Not so fun, is it?” He tips his helmet at you and it feels like he must be smirking under there. You’re a second away from just begging him shamelessly, but that head tilt does something to you; a spark of competitiveness flares within you. Evil You started this game and she’s not ready to back down now.

You roll your shoulders back, take a deep breath, and look at him, “Are you saying you’re not worked up?” You let your eyes flick down to the absolute tent in his trousers and then back up to his visor.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Hell, what do you think I’ve been doing up until now?” Mando runs a hand across his crotch, palming himself, as if to prove his point and maybe hoping to shock you.

“Oh, I’ve heard.” He flinches at that, seems like you caught him off guard. You push ahead, “But what an excellent idea.” You flounce past him and climb onto your bed. You lie back into your pillows and then bring your hands up to caress yourself, your fingers trailing down over your throat and chest in a seductive fashion. Your hands cup your lace-covered breasts, slowly running your palms over them and pushing them together before letting your fingertips brush over your nipples. You look straight into Mando’s visor the entire time.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” It’s as if he’s on a two-minute delay and Din’s mouth has only now caught up to the scene unfolding in front of him. This isn’t what he wanted; he wants to be the one to pleasure you.

“Well, since you don’t seem interested, I guess I’ll just have to take care of myself, like you suggested.” You let your hand drift down your body and into your panties and you let out a suggestive moan. You exaggerate your movements, performing for him.

“I am, I’m interested,” Mando insists.

“Tell me what you want.” You’re not letting him off the hook yet.

“I want to touch you like that, I want to be the one making you moan, making you wet.” Oh, he’s good.

“Ooh, Mando, you’ve got me so wet already.” You let your fingers glide through your folds.

“Let me see.” His voice sounds gruff.

You pause, considering him for a moment, “Why don’t you come feel for yourself?”

With that, Din is pulling his gloves off and striding to bed. He settles himself between your thighs, and reaches for your panties, yanking the little scrap of lace down your legs. He pushes your hand away and then just stares at you, open and glistening for him. Finally.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he tells you, “every part of you. And I’m going to touch it all.”

His hands come to rest on your knees and he tugs your legs open wider before gently squeezing his way up your thighs.

“And how do you always smell so good?” Mando asks.

“I bought scented lotion too.”

“No, it’s more than that,” he says suggestively. You can’t respond though because Mando’s hands have finally reached their destination and the leisurely way he is just dragging his fingers against you has robbed you of all your breath. He’s gentle at first, exploring softly and driving you absolutely crazy.

“Mmm, you are wet, sweetheart,” Mando drawls out, pleased. He adds more pressure and starts to draw lazy circles around your clit making you moan his nickname. “And so responsive to me too.”

“Mando, please,” You can’t help the plea falling from your lips when he’s being so maddeningly slow.

“I like the sound of that.” The smugness is back in his voice. “Please, what?”

“More, please, touch me more” you manage to breathe out, and thank the Maker he complies. He rotates his hand so that his thumb is now on your clit and he increases the pace of those fantastic circles while letting his thick middle finger push inside your pussy. Meanwhile his other hand has been making its way up your body, caressing you through the lace, until he reaches your tits again. This time, however, he’s pushing the lace aside so he can tweak and tease your nipples directly.

“Man- Mando, feels so fucking good, wanted you to touch me like this for so long,” you say between moans.

“Could’ve just asked me, ‘stead of parading around in these flimsy little things,” he chuckles.

“You like these flimsy things though, I could tell,” you respond.

“Yeah, I do,” he admits, “Let me show you how much.” He increases his thrusts into you adding a second finger and then bending both upwards to sweep across pure bliss inside you. You feel like you’ve been on the brink of an orgasm for hours even though he’s only been touching you like this for a few minutes. You feel the waves of pleasure building up and your moans turn into cries of his name until finally the waves crest and feel yourself cumming all over his hand.

“Yes, that’s it, sweetheart,” Mando encourages you, “look so beautiful when you cum. Wanna see it again.” He doesn’t stop his momentum even slightly.

Din is enjoying watching you fall apart completely on his fingers; you’re so hot and soft around him. He knows you will feel unbelievably good on his cock, but he wants to draw out your pleasure as much as he can right now. He feels high on the control of being the one to make you feel like this.

“Mando,” you breathe out, “I- I don’t know-- if I- I can a-again.”

“You can, you can give me another one. You’re gonna give me another one, you little tease.” His voice is firm, but it’s so sexy when he’s demanding that you cum for him. “Besides, this cunt is so tight, need to stretch you out, get you ready to take my cock.”

Hearing him say such utter filth to you is such an incredible turn on that he’s right, you can give him another orgasm and you do. The second one hits you even harder making you clench tight around his fingers, gushing wetness all over as you collapse boneless on the bed.

“That’s it, good, that’s my girl.”

He finally slows his hand and pulls himself away from your dripping center. You watch as his fingers disappear under his helmet and knowing that he’s tasting you on them makes your already spent cunt clench again. He moves off the bed so that he can remove his armor and finally take off his clothes. You watch him, fascinated as more and more of him is revealed to you, until finally he’s standing in front of you naked except for the helmet.

“Oh, Mando, you are incredible; an absolutely gorgeous tank of a man,” you tell him, letting your eyes rake over his broad, muscular form. You see his cock twitch at your words and he seems to widen his stance as you watch him, making himself look even broader. You admire him further, “I love how strong you are, and how big.” As you say the last word, you let your eyes drop to his erection.

“Yeah?” Din asks. He loves that you are so turned on by his body, and your praise is making him blush so much he wonders if you can see it in his neck and chest. You haven’t even touched him yet and he’s aching for you.

“Mmm, yes.” You say appreciatively as you slide off the bed and take his hand, pulling him back to you with a wide smile. You maneuver him to the bed pushing lightly at his shoulders until he takes the hint and lies back. You slip the negligee over your head tossing it to the floor so that you’re naked too. He reaches out one of his large hands and tugs you down with him until you land on top of his body in a tangle of limbs. You push up gently so that you can straddle his narrow hips with your knees bringing yourself up over him to give your hands access to his beautiful golden skin. You let your palms run over his torso and chest, up across his shoulders, lowering yourself down on him as you go so that you can place kisses on his neck, collarbone, and chest. He tries to pull your hips down but you resist so you can take your time exploring him first.

As you make your way down his body, your kisses become more passionate, opening up to let your hot tongue run over his skin. He moans out at the sensation, encouraging you to do it more so you can hear him again. You kiss his nipples, letting your tongue flick each one into a hard nub and making him arch up against you. You continue trailing your lips down his torso, and when you dip your tongue into his navel, he cries out your name and you smile into his skin. Finally, you settle yourself between his legs, looking up at him as you take the head of his cock into your mouth. The sound he makes is somewhere between a groan and a whimper, making you feel a rush of power at being the reason for that sound. You swirl your tongue around the head adding a deliberate flick to the sensitive spot just underneath. You pull off him with a teasing suck before dropping your head back down to allow you to lick up and down his shaft getting him as wet as possible. Mando is practically writhing beneath you trying to get you to take him back into your mouth. You run your hands along the inside of his thighs, shushing him gently, before wrapping your hands underneath him to cup his buttocks. You bring your mouth back up to the head of his cock and then glide down taking him in as deep as possible. You keep your tongue flat and wide to aid you as you go, and give a little hum to help open your throat. You bob your head back up before doing it again and again, each time getting him a little deeper, until you are able to take all of him.

Din has never felt anything so incredible in his life. He’s enjoyed blowjobs before but they were never anything like this. How are you able to swallow him like that? Where did you learn to do this? The way you’re sucking him feels like pure heaven. And the way your tongue is just gliding along the underside of him on your downward stroke, ugh, he feels like he’s fighting off his orgasm the entire time.

“Fuck! So good! How? Shit!” Mando sounds like a complete wreck above you letting out a string of curses and garbled sounds as you continue your oral worship of him. You look up to see his helmet thrashing about in the pillows and his fists practically ripping the blanket underneath him as he’s pulling at it so tightly. It’s too much for him and he begs you to stop, almost shoving you off him.

“St- stop, please, stop, n- not yet.” You release him and he takes in a shaky breath, calming himself. You climb out from between his legs to lay next to him for a moment as he comes back down from the precipice of his peak.

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Mando says between breaths.

“I’d like to be full of something else,” you quip back at him.

“Oh I bet you would.” And lightning fast Mando is somehow towering over you on his knees, prying your legs apart so he can wedge himself between them. As soon as you realize what he’s up to you’re more than happy to help, bringing your legs up to hook around his hips. He rocks against you letting his cock rub up through your wetness. You’re still sensitive from your earlier orgasms and you’re even more turned on after going down on him.

“Do you want this?” Mando asks, teasing your clit with the head of his cock.

“Yes, Mando, please.” You lift your hips up in a vain attempt to get him where you need him most.

“Tell me again.” It’s a command but his tone is soft, sultry.

“Yes, I want you, Mando. I need you.” You look up at him, hoping that your expression can covey all that you feel for him, everything you’re not quite able to tell him yet.

“I need you too, sweetheart.” He says as he gradually starts to push into you, the blunt head of his cock spearing you open. He is only in about halfway when he pauses, letting you adjust to his size before he pulls out almost completely. He repeats with slow, shallow thrusts only giving you a fraction more of him each time.

“Your cunt is so amazingly tight,” Mando moans out, “feels so perfect.”

“I need more, Mando, please.” You try to keep from whining but he’s making you desperate for him. His movements are so languid and unhurried. It’s both fantastic and frustrating at the same time.

“Patience, my little tease, I know what you need.” Mando stretches down over you as he thrusts forward, gripping your hands to place them on either side of your head as he interlocks his fingers with yours. He’s still moving slowly, but this time he keeps going until he is fully sheathed with your tight passage. There is a slight burn as he stretches you open more than any of your previous lovers could, but the feeling of utter fullness is so wonderful any pain is quickly gone. Mando holds himself there for an instant before bringing his helmet down to meet your forehead in the only kind of kiss he can give you now. It’s a lovely moment, but after a bit you can’t stop yourself from grinding against him in a silent plea to make him move.

Mando chuckles at your attempt to move him, and then asks, “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

You barely get out a cry of “Yes!” before he pulls back and then drives himself up into you with such force it punches all the air out of your lungs. Gone are the leisurely teases from before. Instead, now he is moving at an inconceivable pace, fucking into you with abandon. Maker, he’s fast, and the way that he moves his hips is causing him to hit that magic place inside you each time. It’s all you can do to roll your hips up to meet his in counterpoint to his plunging thrusts. A constant string of moans is forced from your lungs along with occasional cries of his name.

“Oh fuck, you’re so good, taking my cock so well, like you were made for it.” You love hearing Mando’s filthy praise, his rich baritone voice encouraging you and making you gush around him with every word. And apparently he can feel that extra wetness, as he tells you, “You like it when I talk dirty to you, don’t you?”

“Maker, yes, Mando,” you respond breathlessly, hoping he’ll keep it up.

“D’you know how much I imagined fucking you? Taken you all over the ship in my mind. Gonna make it real. Gonna show you how badly I’ve wanted you.” The promise of acting out Mando’s fantasies pushes you even closer to the point of no return. The pleasure that has been mounting in you begins to burn white hot inside you. You wrap your legs around Mando’s waist lifting your hips up more, changing the angle just enough to let him penetrate you even deeper than before. You feel your thighs begin to quake, your internal muscles clenching down on him as your climax overtakes you in sparks of blinding ecstasy.

“That’s it sweetheart, cum on my cock, yes.” Mando keeps fucking you right through your orgasm, ramping up his speed even faster than before helping you prolong your high. It’s so good that you can feel another one building right behind it, crashing into you before you even realize that it’s happening. The pleasure is so strong your entire body is spasming with the force of your release and Mando sounds completely wrecked above you. His thrusts are getting erratic and you know he’s getting close.

You are clamped around him like a searing velvet vice, and Din is sure he has never felt anything better in his entire life. Each time you cum for him, you get wetter and the sounds of him pistoning in and out of you echo obscenely in the hull. He wishes this could last longer, but it feels too wonderful, and he can feel his balls tightening. He just wants to stay inside you as long as he possibly can. He begs you, “Please let me cum in you, please. Gonna cum, p- please wanna b- be in you.”

“It’s safe, Mando, you can cum in me,” you tell him, “I want you to cum in me, wanna feel you fill me up.”

That is exactly what Din needs to hear and he lets out a loud groan. He brings one of his strong arms around your lower back to hold you closer to him as he drives into you even harder. His entire body tenses and he cries out your name like it’s being ripped from his throat as his cock begins to pulse inside you and ropes of his cum explode out of him, covering your walls.

Mando tries to lower himself back down to you gently, but ends up collapsing a little on top of you as his strength finally gives out after the force of his orgasm. You don’t mind at all though and you wrap your arms around his back holding him close, enjoying the feel of him still inside you. He is content to stay like that for a few moments too, until he’s murmuring something about crushing you and is rolling onto his back, pulling you with him until you are curled up against his side. You cuddle with him for a bit before he gets up to get you a wet cloth from the fresher to help you clean up before you fall asleep.

When Mando gets back to you, he asks, “So, how many of those skimpy things did you buy?”

You smile up at him, “Oh there are several more,” you assure him, “Couldn’t think of anything better to spend my credits on.”

“Yeah? Good. That means I can get rid of this.” He holds up the modest nightgown you had left behind in the fresher.

You let out a laugh before asking him, “I thought you were worried about me being cold?”

“If you keep wearing those skimpy little things around me, you don’t have to worry about being cold. I’ll be in your bed every night keeping you warm.” His voice is rich with promise.

“Good. You can start now.”

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

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag list: @mandosboobiez @tv-zepeda @remmyswritings @mudhornchronicles @hoodjarin @mackycat11 @sleepwithacommunist @haley7242 @boomtownboy @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @rueblogsthings

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader

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astarryon · 4 years ago

Text

Another Lifetime: Shouldn’t Have Gotten Shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Description of war and battle injuries, mentions of blood, gunshots, language, etc.

Summary: Bucky doesn’t like talking about her, but Dr. Raynor isn’t an easy person to argue with. And now that it’s summer –– now that he’s living through the months they’d shared together all over again, only without her by his side –– fighting the memories becomes all the more difficult.

A/N: Listen, I really don’t know what’s gotten into me but ever since tfatws started I have been INSPIRED! Hoping to update this fic sem regularly, but we’ll see where the new school term takes us. As always, I hope you enjoy, and feel free to let me know what you think!

Bucky Barnes has never been overly fond of the summer.

One aspect was the fact that he could remember what it was like to be a miserable kid living in a cramped Brooklyn apartment with no air conditioning and three baby sisters who never stopped whining about the heat. Of all the jumbled, foggy memories bouncing around the confines of his skull, that one is clearer than most. And though he still finds it difficult to picture the faces of his little sisters –– can’t hardly remember arcs of their noses, much less the colors of each of their eyes –– a nostalgic, brotherly feeling washes over him all the same.

There’s also the little detail that he’d received his draft notice in the summer months. That Bucky remembers perfectly, one of the few memories strong enough to remain unmuddied by all those years of shitbag scientists rooting around his head and picking his brain apart. The heat that year had been sweltering, and once his mother found him in her kitchen with that damned letter clutched between his fingers, he felt it burn right through the strings of his heart.

The first week of July delivered the news. The last saw him shipping out to bootcamp.

He guessed he didn’t mind the sunshine. That part had always been nice, and it helped to calm him on occasion these days, to remember that the golden rays licking comforting heat up his skin were the same ones which had shone down on him back in the 40s, before and during the war.

Before Hydra had condemned him to seventy long years of dark and cold.

To that end, logic said the season he really should hate was winter, but he’d never felt any ill will toward the colder months, and found now, in the present, that he’d only grown fonder of them. When the rain came down from the sky in sheets, or when snow fell so thick it resembled white, puffy clouds blanketing the ground, he took walks. Partly because no other soul would be idiotic enough to trudge through a borderline natural disaster at three in the morning, meaning he wouldn’t have to put up with prying eyes and conspicuously pointing fingers, and partly because experiencing said natural disasters in solitude did wonders for the soul.

Steve thought it was strange. Hated that Bucky did it, kept insisting that he at least take a goddamn jacket, there isn’t any actual proof he can’t get pneumonia. But Bucky always shook his head and declined, rolling his eyes and muttering beneath his breath about how apparently the tables have fucking turned.

But, no. The winter, the rain, the cold –– none of that could ever draw half as much ire from him as did the gentle beginnings of June, the scorching heat of July, the fading light of August. Because those weren’t the things which served as reminders from before.

Reminders of her.

“James. Did you hear me?”

Bucky blinks hard, freeing his gaze from the wall calendar tacked up and viewable just over his doctor’s shoulder. Glancing down, he sees the familiar green of the velvet armchair –– one of three options for patients to choose from in her office, and Bucky’s personal favorite on account of the way its textures did something to sooth him as he gripped its arm anxiously with his flesh hand –– and the worn, fraying knees of his black jeans against it. He doesn’t bother meeting his therapist’s gaze. He already knows which of her expressions he’ll find her leveling at him, if he does.

“Sorry,” Bucky mutters, sucking his teeth. He hopes his voice isn’t quite as strained as it sounds –– though, judging by the way Dr. Raynor clucks her tongue as her fingers twitch toward her pen, it definitely is. “Guess I’m a little scattered today.”

The sardonic hum Raynor gives in response as she knowingly tilts her head nearly makes him open his mouth to finish the silent argument she’d started, but Bucky knows better than that. The moment he starts up, she’ll feign innocence and inquire as to why he feels the need to defend himself when no verbal accusation has been made. God damn, it would be just his luck to end up with the one government assigned therapist actually capable at her job.

“That’s what you said yesterday,” Dr. Raynor offers. “And the two days before, if memory serves me right.”

Bucky shakes his head and tsks, tapping a metal finger against his temple. “Not a funny joke, doc. Remember the audience you’re dealing with here.”

“‘Deflecting.’”

The word drops from Raynor’s mouth with a simpleness that puzzles him.

“‘Scuse me?” he prompts when she only goes on to stare at him owlishly.

“Oh, that’s what I’d be writing in my notebook,” she explains simply, folding her hands together in her lap and leaning back in her chair. “If we were using it right now, that is.”

Again, Bucky rolls his eyes, and has to make an active attempt not to cross his arms like a forlorn child. The threat in her words is easily recognizable, not that she’d really bothered trying to conceal it. She knows that damn notebook irritates him more than any other aspect of their current arrangement, and he knows she’s not bluffing. If he doesn’t start talking, Raynor starts writing –– and if Raynor starts writing, he gets tailed by government watchdogs to ensure there are no imminent incidents lurking in the near future.

He sighs dejectedly and meets her gaze. “What was it you asked me?”

“What it is about the month of June that makes you so uncomfortable.”

Bucky blinks, red alarm bells shrieking in his head. Fuck, he can’t help but think. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Caught red handed.

“June’s fine,” he tries, but even to his own ears the assurance sounds weak. To think, he’d once been the most prolific tool of espionage around –– now he can hardly deliver a lie with a straight face. “Don’t have any feelings toward it one way or the other.”

“Strike two,” Raynor quips, glancing one again toward her pen.

Fuck!

Exhaling sharply through his nose, Bucky sits a little straighter in his seat, searching for any semblance of comfort to be found while already knowing he was bound to come up short. Damn it all. She wasn’t going to let him out of this one.

“Alright, hold your horses,” he sighs, waving a halting hand. Raynor’s expression doesn’t shift. She simply continues peering at him with her dark eyes, waiting patiently for his next few words to come. “Why do you assume I’ve got a problem with June?”

“Because you didn’t start staring at that calendar until it switched over from May,” Raynor supplies. “Like I mentioned, today isn’t the only day you’ve been scattered. Seems like something we should consider talking about.”

“No,” Bucky answers quickly. Too quickly. Shit. If she thought he’d been deflecting before, he didn’t even want to know the words running through her mind in regards to his behavior now. “I mean–– well, no. I don’t think it’s that important.”

Raynor arches a brow. “Funny,” she tells him, “the way your eyes keep drifting back to the word ‘June’ tells me otherwise.”

He sighs, worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth. Caught between a rock and an even bigger, weightier rock. The universe really wasn’t one to take his side often.

Bucky knows there really isn’t any choice here. Either he does what Raynor asks and elaborates on his suspicious behavior, or he risks facing the repercussions of those notes she’ll be jotting down in her notebook. Which of the two evils is more definitively the lesser, he can’t rightly say, but he knows which of the consequences he’d prefer to suffer through. And they’re certainly not the ones which see him robbed of the ability to walk freely down the street without a detail of armed babysitters.

So he figures that, maybe for once, being honest can’t be the worst decision to make.

“A few years ago, back before the blip,” Bucky tries, “I spent a summer in Wakanda.”

“Housed by the royal family,” Raynor nods, tone soft. “We’ve spoken about that before. You said you found it peaceful there. That you liked it.”

He did, and still does. On the nights when his mind isn’t quiet enough to let him find sleep but his heart feels light enough to forego the slideshow of horrors he’d been made to suffer throughout the years, Bucky’s thoughts often return to the bliss which life in Wakanda had offered him. He’d remember the farm he kept there, the little children who would come to sing and play and dance in trees to keep him company in the afternoons. He’d remember Princess Shuri –– Just Shuri, James, come now –– and the kindness she’d displayed in deactivating the deeper, most concerning parts of his programming. The day she’d told him it was done, turned off, that he’d never be forced to revert back to the Soldier against his will again, he’d rushed her and caught her up in a bearhug so relieved and forceful that her Dora Milaje detail had actually pointed their spears at him. He’d remember the tranquility of it all, the simpleness.

The peace.

There’s no hope of him being able to return to that place any time soon, much as he’d like to, but the memories sit resolutely concrete in his mind. The first of a new set which he’d never have to worry about being stolen away from him by the currents of an electric shock.

“It’s a nice place,” Bucky affirms, sighing wistfully at the thoughts swirling up in his head. “I bring it up because back then, that summer… I started remembering a few things. From before.”

Raynor keeps her face smooth and composed, but Bucky notices the twitch in her cheek that says she’s got a question. “When you say before,” she asks, voice gentle, “do you mean your time as the Winter Soldier?”

He shakes his head, swallowing thickly. Ironically, things would be easier, were that the case. He might not be so miserable in the present, seeing the month of June start all over again. The melancholy might not be so strong. “No, not then. I mean from before. From the 40s, during the war. I don’t know if it was Wakanda’s heat that did it, or that my programming was officially deactivated. But one night I went to sleep in my hut like normal, and then the next morning I woke up, and… and I remembered.”

Raynor clasps her hand together in her lap, the pen, the notebook, the hesitation all forgotten. Bucky sees it in her expression, the shock at the fact that he’s speaking, that she’s actually making progress in getting him to talk about things so painful he often wonders if they aren’t better left in the past. He’s still trying to figure that one out. Miserable as he’s been for the first four days of June, he figures nothing good or relieving or positive can come from retelling this particular tale. It’s all behind him now, and there isn’t anything to be done to change the ending in any significant way.

But… but he figures he owes it to her. As painful as the memories are, they can’t be anything in comparison to what she must have gone through in the aftermath of it all.

Slowly, Raynor crosses one ankle over the other. “What was it that you remembered, James?”

Bucky sighs, closing his eyes and inhaling as deep a breath as he can pull. He lets it loose after counting to six, then opens his eyes again and crosses his arms over his chest. “It started back in June of 1944. I got shot.”

––

June 1st, 1944

It was damn lucky you weren’t sleeping much these days.

A funny thought, really. One which brings a sarcastic, bitter smile to your lips as you bend your neck to get a closer look at your handiwork. Wasn’t it just two nights ago that you’d been laying in your cot, staring up at the moon through the flap of your tent and counting all the reasons it wasn't fair that the bliss of unconsciousness evaded you? Wasn’t it three that you’d considered sneaking into the med tent and downing a few of the sleeping pills meant for the soldiers? You hadn’t, of course –– god only knew the sort of trouble you’d get in if it came to pass that you were caught –– but the consideration had been there all the same.

“Fuckin’ shit!”

The foul language, mixed with the rough jerk of the body beneath your dexterous hands, was enough to steal your attention back from your jaded inner monologue. Nearly two years back, when you’d first signed on to work as a field nurse, the pained outburst would have sent you flinching. Now, the swearing isn’t anything new, and thankfully for the soldier whose leg you were currently stitching up, it was no longer anywhere near enough to give you pause.

“You better hold still unless you want this to scar even worse than it's already going to,” you tell him matter of factly, gently tugging the thread the rest of the way through your current stitch.

The soldier –– Matthews? Moore? You can hardly remember the name he’d gasped at you in pain, but you’re sure it started with an ‘M’ –– rakes his dirty hands over his even dirtier face, brown eyes squeezing themselves shut as his fingers quake with agony. “Sorry,” he rasps, skin paling. “Just… Jesus, shit hurts so bad!”

You cluck your tongue, guilt racking your heart as you push the needle through his skin once more. “Shouldn’t have gotten shot then, genius,” you murmur, shaking your head disapprovingly.

It works. For a moment the soldier’s face twists in disbelief, and in the next, a shuddering, wheezing gasp of laughter expels itself from his throat. The sight is bleak, but it’s enough to twist your heart with warmth as you once again pull the thread through the stitch. You’d learned in the first few months of working as a nurse on the frontlines that the last thing these men wanted or needed was to be coddled along over their injuries, especially by a woman. Vulnerability was more averse to them now than ever before.

Personally, you don’t much understand it –– but your work isn’t, and has never been, about yourself.

“Look, why don’t you tell me something,” you start, glancing up to… Morrison’s…? face in apology before sticking him with the needle yet again. He jerks, but not quite so violently this time. Another one down. Only about a thousand more to go tonight. “How’d all this happen? I thought you boys weren’t meant to scope the new territory until tomorrow afternoon. Y’know, in the daylight? When you can actually see whether or not someone in the distance is pointing a gun at you?”

“Unit leader was gettin’ jumpy,” the soldier coughs out, groaning against the pain. Guilt stabs your heart like a knife. You’d have given him something for the pain if you had it, something to numb the wound. But shipments of med supplies were behind, and it would be at least a week before you got your hands on anything like that again. “Said going at night would be better, that we could get the drop on them before they even knew we were coming.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Never mind the fact that their soldiers know the land better than ours do.”

So, the unit leader had jumped the gun. You’d figured as much, when two of your nurses had run into your tent with messy hair and sleep addled expressions, panicking about the oncoming slew of injured soldiers who needed immediate medical attention. That had been two hours, six patients, and about one hundred and ninety seven stitches ago.

Again. It was lucky you weren’t sleeping much these days.

The soldier whose leg you were currently stitching up opened his mouth to speak –– whether to snark along with you at the poor choice made by the unit’s leadership or to blindly defend his superior’s decision, you couldn’t be altogether sure –– but before he could even fix his mouth to properly shape the words, a sudden roar of someone else’s agony effectively cut him off.

Steadying your hands, you carefully turn to peer over your shoulder, searching for the source of the commotion. All night, you’d been surrounded by a cacophony of screaming soldiers, but that yell of pain is one you’re certain hasn’t yet met your ears. And, as you watch the flap of the med tent swing back before admitting entry to three people –– one of your nurses and two soldiers, one leaning bodily against the other –– you discover that your assumption is correct.

“We got a bad one,” the nurse –– Sally, curly haired, nearing twenty four and a bit more capable than the other girls when met with the sight of blood –– shouts. Her eyes scan the tent, searching and searching until her gaze finally lands on you. She pauses only a moment to turn and direct the uninjured soldier to drag the one he’s supporting over to an empty cot before barrelling in your direction. “Gunshot wound to the abdomen. I haven’t really had the chance to get a good look at it, but he’s–– well, to be frank, that man has lost a shit ton of blood.”

A gutshot. Poor guy would either go through a sickening amount of pain just to die, or he’d survive, and end up having to endure even more pain. Either way, in light of your depleted supply of painkillers, ‘excruciating’ didn’t even begin to describe it.

Oh, damn it all.

“Take over here for me,” you command, gesturing with your chin to the needle perched between your fingers. Sally’s already moving to pluck it from your hand before you’ve even finished speaking. “He’s got about fifteen to go before we even think about sending him back to his tent. Don’t let him convince you otherwise.”

“You don’t think I know better?” Sally remarks drily, but you don’t have the time to come up with a witty comeback. You’re already on your feet and rushing toward the soldier writhing in pain across the tent, reflexively grabbing a collection of gauze, thread, tweezers, and rubbing alcohol along the way.

This isn’t going to be much fun for either of you.

The first thing you do is excuse the uninjured soldier, the one who’d carried him in. For one, there isn’t any need to keep him witness, and for another, you work better when an addition of unnecessary eyes aren’t tracking your every move. Besides. You doubt the poor soul laying on your med cot is at all interested in one of his peers –– one not sick or out of his mind due to his own pain, that is –– see him in this state. So, you simply thank the young man for his assistance and shoo him back in the direction from which he’d come, waiting until he’s passed the tent’s entrance before turning your full, undivided attention to your newest patient.

He’s got his eyes screwed shut tight in pain. You can hardly blame him. Of all the wounds to suffer through, a gutshot has the potential to win least desirable. It’s easy enough to see why, as the young man’s handsome features carve themselves into an expression of despair. A slick sheen of sweat coats his pale forehead, dampening his dark hair and sticking it to his skin. He’s biting down so hard on his bottom lip in effort to swallow his screams that you’re genuinely shocked he hasn’t drawn blood.

Though, part of you wonders if there’s even enough blood left in his body for his lip to bleed. Deep scarlet blooms stain his green shirt, so thoroughly soaked through that the fabric has turned almost black. Swathes of red cover his torso, his pants, the pale skin of his arms. It’s everywhere, already leaking onto the white sheets of the cot.

Sally wasn’t kidding. He really has lost a shit ton of blood.

“Hey there, soldier,” you start up, setting your collection of medical supplies down before taking a closer look at his torso. Shirt sticking to his skin the way it is, you aren’t going to be able to get much done until it’s out of the way. And, given that this man is certainly in no state to shrug it off himself, you’ve got no choice but to cut it. Lucky that you’d thought to grab a pair of scissors too, you suppose. “Don’t suppose you might be able to help a girl out by telling her what year it is?”

His jaw works for a few moments, teeth grinding together so forcefully the sound is audible. You think he might be gearing up to let loose another scream before he shakes his head a single time. “I got–– got shot,” he wheezes, whole body shaking, “not concussed. Don’t–– ah, don’t really… get how the year’s relevant.”

You exhale a bemused scoff through your nose, considering your response as your scissors work their way through the bloody fabric concealing his wound. You’re working as gently as you can, and so far it seems to be doing the trick. The soldier hasn’t flinched once since you started, though it’s hard to tell if that’s more due to the fact that he hadn’t noticed any difference one way or the other, or if it’s because he’s dedicating what strength he has left to keeping his head screwed onto his shoulders.

“Fair point,” you reply, still carefully cutting through his shirt. “How about a name, then? Little more relevant to the conversation, I’d say.”

It takes a few moments of silence for him to respond –– almost as if he’s trying to remember that he’s got a name –– but eventually, it comes.

“James,” he tells you, the single syllable leaving his mouth in a pained grunt.

You nod, cutting away the last of the fabric. “Nice to meet you, James,” you tell him, carefully peeling the tatters of his ruined shirt from his abdomen. “You just hold tight a little longer for me, alright? We’ll fix you up good as new.”

It isn’t a pretty sight, what you find beneath. Under all that red is a nasty wound, jagged and swollen at the edges, punched into the flesh just beneath the southmost edge of his ribcage. Thankfully, no bones have been hit –– a shattered rib would be immediately evident, both in the pitch of his screams and the deformed shape of his chest –– but the wound is more than a little inflated. There’s a puffiness to it that you can’t comprehend, a stiffness to its perimeter that doesn’t click in your mind, until––

Until you see the small, dark center, and suddenly it does.

You swear beneath your breath, a filthy, ugly word that you’d picked up a few weeks back from one of your patients. You don’t even know what it means, not really, but speaking it feels cathartic enough that you don’t altogether care.

Oh, sweet, holy hell.

James cracks an eye open, muttering, “Darlin’, you rea–– you really gotta work on your bedside manner.”

“Alright, listen to me, James,” you tell him, forgoing a witty response. You don’t have the time, not considering what you’re now dealing with, and you figure James will appreciate your working hands more than he’ll appreciate your shitty attempts at banter. “There’s… there’s something I need to do for you, before I can start patching you up. Now, normally I could give you something for the pain, but we’re out of the anesthetic I need. So this isn’t gonna… it’s not gonna feel very good.”

James looses a labored sigh, oddly calm for the clear anguish marring his face. “Shit, well good news,” he mutters, swallowing thickly, “it already doesn’t.”

His lashes flutter in a telltale manner, one which lets you know he’s getting closer to the brink and you’re running short on time. It’s easy enough, not to give in to the panic this incites in your chest. You’ve been doing this job a long time now, know that what James needs is your calm, your level-headedness. Those things have a higher chance of keeping him alive, of seeing to it that he comes out of this on the other side. Scarred up, maybe, and without the ability to breathe as deep as he once could, but still alive.

You shake your head, grabbing the tweezers from where you’d set them down before planting your forearm against an uninjured section of James’ bare chest for leverage. “Alright, big breaths, James. You scream as loud as you want or need to, but just… try and stay as still as you can, okay? I won’t be able to stop until it’s done.”

The only answer he gives in response is a shaky nod, the thick black fringe of his lashes brushing his cheekbones as his lips begin to move at a speed with which your eyes can hardly track. A prayer, you figure, or a plea for a quick end. Whichever it is, it helps him to relax just the tiniest bit more, slightly smooths out the lines of pain and suffering etched into his face.

Until you start digging with the tweezers, that is.

Then it’s all white hot screams of pain.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper beneath his cries, words drowned out by the sheer volume of the howls ripping out of his throat. But you don’t stop working, don’t withdraw the tweezers from his bloody wound. You hadn’t been joking when you told him starting meant you couldn’t stop until you finished. Abandoning the task now meant leaving James to bleed out in a matter of seconds. “I know it hurts, I’m sorry. You’re doing good, though, alright? You’re doing amazing. I’m sorry.”

It takes a moment for the tweezers’ edges to find the metal bullet lodged in his skin. At first, all you can feel is a mess of flesh and muscle, shredded and frayed from the impact of the gunshot. For a few short seconds, you wonder if your eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on you, if it would have been more wise to search for an exit wound on his back than to simply jump straight in without taking the time to stop and think.

But your worries are unfounded –– proven two seconds later when your tweezers make contact with the tiny, foreign object threatening James’ life. Carefully, you maneuver the tweezers into the correct position to properly take hold of the bullet. Then, with one last whispered apology, you slowly and carefully begin to pull.

James’ legs buck hard against the cot, arms straining at his sides where he’s got both his hands fisted into the sheets in an attempt to hold on for dear life. His teeth chatter against each other, knocking and clacking as he tries to get ahold of the screams pouring freely from him, and that thin sheen of sweat coating his skin has turned into a full on tidal wave.

But his torso doesn’t move –– not a single inch.

“We’re almost done,” you assure him, keeping your hand steady as you continue gently easing the bullet up, and up, and up. You can just make out the silver edges of it now, slick with blood and dented. It won’t be long now, before it’s out and you can start working on staunching the blood leaking from his body. Maybe you can lift his spirits with a joke or two then, a witty comment to ease some of the pain. Maybe––

The bullet slips from the tweezers, catching you off guard and jerking your hand to the left. It’s only by a centimeter, not a huge distance, but given that you’ve got edges of metal inserted into this man’s wound, to him, it makes all the difference in the world.

James throws his head back and screams, loud enough that you can instantly hear his vocal cords go raw beneath the strain of the volume. A single word leaves his lips; it sounds like Ma, only it’s warped, strangled. Much as you detest the fact, you know the sound well. A soldier crying out for his mother while under the thrall of delirium and pain isn’t exactly a rarity around these parts.

Guilt twists your heart with the razor sharpness of a cruel knife.

“Stop,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “P-please–– please stop!”

“I can’t,” you tell him, already repositioning your tweezers and going back in. Luckily, the bullet is much closer to the surface of his wound now. It only takes a second before you find another grip on it, instantly deciding to forego gentleness in favor of speed. “But the good news is––” With a slight bend of your wrist and a soft, wet pop, the bullet comes loose from his wound. “––we’re done with the shitty part.”

James’ eyes, glassy with pain and pupils blown wide, fall first to the bullet you hold up for his perusal, set against a backdrop of lowlight and your blood covered hand, before wandering their way up to your face. It’s then that you notice his irises are water blue and clear as crystal. You’re not sure why, but their color fascinates you.

“I wanna keep that,” he mutters weakly.

Then, his lashes flutter rapidly and his head lolls to the side, his lungs expelling a great, big breath before shuddering to a halt.

Your heart lurches at the sight. For one, awful moment, you think you’ve just put the poor man through all of that pain and agony only to end up somehow killing him in the process –– never mind the fact that this isn’t the first time you’ve extracted a bullet from a soldier’s abdomen, and certainly isn’t likely to be the last. But then his chest starts up moving again, at a much less worrisome pace. It’s slow, and his breaths are shallow, but they’re still breaths.

Unconscious –– not dead.

The realization is enough to make you send a mental note of thanks to whichever being was kind enough to have shown James mercy.

You allow yourself the shortest of moments to bask in the relief –– that you’d successfully extracted the bullet, that James hadn’t died during or after your attempts to do so, that you aren’t now left to set in motion the process of another condolence letter being shipped across seas to his family.

And once it passes, once you’ve inhaled and exhaled and wiped your hands on a cloth, you grab a cloth and press it to James’ wound, setting to work on stopping his bleeding –– but not before wrapping the bullet you’d just dislodged from his body in a pad of gauze and tucking it into the breast pocket of your uniform.

––

Chapter Two: Someone Good

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mcu #tfatws #catws #marvel #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #au #series #angst #hurt #comfort #1940s bucky

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flutter-hot-butter · 4 years ago

Text

Fire meets Water

Portgas D. Ace X Reader

Warning! Smut under the cut~

"What do you mean you won't let a woman fight on your crew?!" You stare in disbelief at the bare chested pirate captain. The second division leader of Whitebeards following was towering a little above you, but looked at you straight nonetheless, grinning apologetically. "No can do lass. The old man doesn't allow woman figters on his deck and I live by his example. I made an exception for my old crew, but I'll have to turn you down..." You bald your fists. "Yeah sure, turn down my offer right after I helped saving your mates, ship and hide from that Sea King." You point at the boat just off the coast of the remote island you crashed on after the recent battle. "Real fair of you!" "Now now, don't get all pouty, princess. Sure, you've shown some admirable strength, but fighting a creature whose brain is as dense as the sea it resides in is something else than just randomly joining one of the elite crews of the sea. Still... If you insist..." Ace shifts, taking a battle stance. "I suppose I could arrange something, if you can beat me, that is." You smile, dropping your bag. "Bring it on!"

Ace coughs. The steam is still thick in the air as you kneel down beside him, barely capable of containing your excitement. He was on the ground, which means you've won against the Fire Fist Ace! You reach out a hand. "Let me help you." Ace scowls at you. "You could have told me you had a Mizu Mizu (read: water water) fruit." You retract your hand. "And reveal my tactics? Seems unwise." "Yeah sure you can keep it from an enemy. But a friend? Your possible crewmates? We're elemental opposities. You could've seriously hurt me if I didn't react in time." Ace gets up and sighs. "You're welcome to be a part of the crew, but you've got a long way to go to earn some trust." And with that, Ace and the other members of the division head for the ship.

You stare at the black water, your head and arms resting on the railing of the ship. Today had been a disaster. Sure you managed to get on Ace's crew, but you somehow still felt humiliated. You sniff as the merry sounds of your newfound crewmates drift off to the stars from the other side of the deck. You don't feel particulary cheery. You're lost in thought about how you can make it up to your captain, when his voice startles you from behind. "You look cold." You snap your head to the left, where Ace took a seat on the railing without you noticing. He nods towards your arms, which indeed have chilly goosebumps. "Oh sorry, I didn't-" "No need to apologize for being cold," Ace laughs. You feel silly. "I am sorry though. For what happened this afternoon, captain." Ace waves his hand through the air. "Bygones be bygones. You've learned and you're a part of the Whitebeard pirates now. Besides, I might have been a bit sultry too. You're pretty strong, for a girl," Ace jokes. You both laugh. You're about to say something in retortion, when a gust of wind blows by, making you shiver. Ace slides from the railing and wraps his arms around you. you're surprised by his action, but then realise how warm he is for someone who walks around with a bare upper body at this time of night. "You're... Warm..." You whisper "Yeah... A side-effect from the Devil Fruit..." Ace mumbles. He then buries his face in your hair. "Hmmm, you smell good..." You chuckle. "I doubt it will last out here on the sea." "Then I'll be sure to treasure this moment." You stand there in his embrace for a while, a little flustered, when Ace starts talking again. "Let's make tonight even more memorable..." He removes his arms around you and grabs your hands. You gaze into his eyes. The harsh, combative look of that afternoon had gone. Like a blazing fire turning into a kindling flame, Ace now looks at you with a soft smile, his eyes twinkling in the light of the moon. He tugs you towards the doors and pulls you inside. After a bit of a walk through the wooden hallway, he pulls you through another set of doors. You enter a room which you recognize as a captain's cabin. What was he planning? Before you could ask any questions, however, Ace had shut the door, and cloased all space between the two of you. You feel his chapped lips move against yours as he kisses you passionately. You place your hands against his muscular chest in a weak attempt to push him away. He puts his hands on your hips. You can't help it. The intense battle this afternoon, that moment you shared on the deck... He had been pulling you in completely all day, and you were genuinely starting to fall for the rather handsome, black haired captain. Your captain. With a jolt, you jump back. You can see Ace furrowing his brows in the dim light of the cabin. "Didn't like it?" "N-No.. It's just that... Well... You're the captain, and..." Ace sniggers. "There's no law on Whitebeard's crew preventing us from doing this. But if you really don't want to... You know where the door is," Ace says, while putting his signature hat on the coat rack next to the door and removing his shoes, not breaking eye contact. You don't move a muscle. Your mind is still racing in all directions, but it seems your body has already made a choice. Carefully regarding your actions, Ace makes his way over to you. Slowly, he leans in. Detecting that you're not going to retract, he carefully closes the gap between you again. As his nose softly brushes against yours, all thoughts in your head go silent, and you lean in as well. You slide your hands over his shoulders, resting them at the back of his neck. He wraps his arms around you. As the kiss becomes rougher, Ace urges you to slowly walk backwards, until you're up against the wall. he pins your arms to the side and breaks loose. You look at him. His gaze has changed once again. From combatant to soft, and now to an expression laced with lust. He strats trailing kisses down your cheek towards your neck. You softly moan as he sucks down on a delicate spot. He quickly releases

a hand to put a finger over your lips. "Now now, don't alert the rest of the crew, or our fun will be over," he grins, a playful glimmer in his eyes. He kisses you again, sliding his tongue across asking for entrance. You grant him. Meanwhile, his hands trail to your legs. Without any effort, he hoists them around his middle. You hastily grab on to his upper body for balance. Ace starts to grind against you. you can feel his member being rock hard already through his trousers. You let out a muffled moan. Ace grunts in agreement. You wrap your legs around his waist. His hands trail upwards again, towards your breasts. He squeezes them softly, making you break away for air. You bite your lip as he starts to toy around witht hem through the fabric of your shirt. He then tugs on your shirt and murmurs. "These clothes are getting in the way..." He taps your upper legs, signalling you to let go. Once you're firmly back on the ground again, Ace wastes no time pulling your shirt over your head. Your bra befalls the same fate. You are now both bare chested. Ace takes in the view and whistles. "Wow," he breathes. You have to surpress a giggle. Ace pulls you along to the bed, and gestures you to lay down. You quickly remove your sandals. Ace places himself on top of you, at level with your boobs, and takes a hold of both of them again. He rolls your erect nipples around in his fingers. You grab the sheets. Ace then takes a nipple in his mouth, carefully sucking. You can barely hold in a whimper. After a while, Ace relases your boobs ans reaches for your mouth again. During the kiss, he starts removing your skirt and underpants. his own garments accompany yours on the wooden floor. You pop yourself up a bit to take a look at his erect member. "You like what you see?" He grins, as he inches a bit closer. You smile, and open your mouth. Ace thrusts his hips forward, placing his tip on your tongue. You start sucking. Ace places a hand behind your head to hold you up right, and tangles his fingers into your hair. "Oh, that feels good..." He whispers. You slowly start bobbing your head. Ace goes along with your movement. You increase the tempo. You can hear his breath become irregular. Suddenly, he pulls away. You look at him in confusion, but he winks. "Not yet." He repositions himself to sit in between your legs, placed perfectly in front of your entrance. He traces one finger down over the length of your labia. You lean in to his touch. You can see him smile at your natural response. He strokes again, pressing a little harder this time. He then repeats the motion once more, also stroking upward. He stops at your clitoris, and makes a repetitive motion against the spot. Your nails dig into the bed as Ace replaces his finger with his tip, sliding up and down your vulva. You can feel yourself getting wetter. Ace continues until you've become slippery, at which point he places his penis against your opening. "Brace yourself." He pushes himself in. You put a hand over your mouth as he slowly submerges himself fully. Once he is all the way in, he leans over to you, prying your hand away and replacing it with his lips, to distract you. It doesn't take you too long to adjust, and soon you can feel his shaft throb. Ace starts his movement. First slow, but gradually picking up speed. He sits up right again and grabs your breasts, kneading them as he moves in and ou of you. You can feel your body growing more tense as the pleasure increases. As the speed rises to a certain point, Ace lays down and holds on to your shoulders for balance, pressuring them to augment his thrusts. You try not to scream as you feel his member pulsate. "Please Ace..." You moan softly. You want to release so badly. "Almost..." He groans. His breath has become ragged. With one last great impact, you can feel him spill inside you. It pushes you over the edge as well, and your can feel your body relax under the pleasure. Ace collapses on top of you, and you both breathe heavy. When Ace manages to recollect himself, he pulls out, and lays down beside you. You

turn on your side towards him. You can see that he's satisfied with his job. As your sexual high wears off, your chills return. You shift closer to Ace, cuddling up to him. Even now, his body is warm. He skillfully pulls the covers from under your bodies and pulls them over yourselves. He brushes a strand of your hair aside, and pulls up your chin to make you look at him. "You're an amazing girl, depsite the whole no women fighters law, don't you ever forget that. I never knew I'd fall for you so hard." He puts his arms around you. You smile and shrug. "What can I say? Opposites attract." You both laugh exhausted. As you drift off to sleep, Ace has one last thing to say to you. "Oh and (Y/N), now that we share a bedroom... You're not required to call me captain anymore." "Will do, Ace."

#one piece #fanfiction #smut #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #spades #pirate #crew #manga #anime #gol d ace #captain #devil fruit #fanfic #ace

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clearwillow · 4 years ago

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50. Either way that strikes you. ❤️

Hi @dawnrider ❤️ I actually opted to do both, cause not only was it a particularly sucky night and the fluff was needed, but because this will probably be the only prompt I get sent.

Decided to do "Its okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway." around Hired Help, because that AU really needs some fluff right now. It would be early on in the fic, for those that have read it. (I'll add it to AO3 once I can think of a title, so for now it's tumblr-exclusive)

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Kagome dropped down unceremoniously on her couch and sighed. Her feet hurt something awful. Those cute pumps she had bought to go with her new outfit for work? Hurt like she’d walked on glass shards all day. She came out of them as soon as she had her front door open and forced herself not to grab them by her toes and fling them across the apartment.

They were still expensive, even if she had gotten them on sale.

Her work involved walking. A lot of walking. She thought that the heel hadn’t been difficult to walk in, and she hadn’t felt any discomfort until she’d sat down in her car. Then it had hit her and all she’d wanted to do was get in bed and sleep. Only she’d have to get home first.

“Mistakes were definitely made,” she decided, glaring at the offending footwear that sat on her coffee table. Her phone buzzed and she had to give herself an awkward pat down to find the device to see who the text message was from. “Inuyasha?”

[Kags, you have anything going on tonight?]

Unsure of his intentions, Kagome chewed her lip in thought before typing out a reply. [Only if watching TV counts? What’s up?]

[Actually…nevermind…]

[No, no – what is it, Inuyasha?] She was about to call him and find out what wasn’t important enough to ask all of a sudden. He’d done that when they were kids, and it had driven her crazy then too. He’d start to ask her something and back out immediately after. Before she could hit the button to dial his number, his message came back.

[I wanted to know if I could come to your place? But you’re probably tired after work. I know I had you running all over the building.]

Even in a text she could feel the guilt coming from him. He didn’t know her shoes were going to hurt her like they did. Hell even she didn’t know! They’d only been coworkers for going on a month, at best. She had to learn the ropes. Find out where everything was located. Plan the most efficient means of reaching each office on the regular. It was more her fault than anything really. [Inuyasha I don’t mind!] Her thumbs flew across the screen keyboard as she responded. There was something about his text that had her gut telling her that there was more to it.

And when it hit her, she knew good and well there was an underlying question he would never ask outright.

[Inuyasha…really. It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway. My mind is buzzing too much to wind down, and I’d love the company.]

[Are you sure?]

[I’m very sure.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(〜￣▽￣)〜~(￣▽￣)~*〜(￣▽￣〜) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the doorbell rang, Kagome tried not to let it show on her face that her feet still hurt like a bitch as she hobbled to let Inuyasha in. But when she opened the door to see him standing there, giving her a lopsided grin, she didn’t care if her feet were on fire. Her friend was here now. “You’re sure this is alright?”

“I told you yes, you big doof. Now get in here already!” Kagome shook her head as he walked inside, taking in the worn out jeans and t-shirt he’d thrown on. There had been a time when she remembered he wore those rock band shirts and barely filled the shoulders out. Now she could see the way his shoulder blades moved beneath the cotton as he shifted the weight of the bags in his hands.

It was…hypnotizing. And if she wasn’t careful she’d probably be drooling in a second.

Wait. Why did he have bags?

Inuyasha must have noticed her staring – hopefully at the bags, she realized too late in horror that this might not be the case – and answered unprompted. “Thought you might want to eat something that you didn’t have to stand on your feet to fix. Got some junk too. You still like Sonic hamburgers, right?”

The way he looked back up at her, how unsure he was, because he didn’t know if her tastes had changed since they’d hung out…it broke her heart. It reminded her of all the time they’d missed out on, and for him to show up at her doorstep after work just showed that he wanted to make up for that time. Kagome stepped forward and dropped her hands over his, deliberately sniffing out loud. “You got onion rings, right?”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Of course.”

Nothing would ever make Kagome turn Inuyasha away, even if he hadn’t remembered that she liked onion rings with her burger. He was making an effort to rekindle their friendship, to spend time outside of work together. And the fact that he was leaving his own place on a night with a new moon said so much. He didn’t want to spend it alone, and chose her out of everyone he could spend the evening with.

Sleep was overrated and she knew she’d have the day off the next day anyway.

They ended up spreading the food he brought all over the coffee table. Inuyasha couldn’t help but notice how she tossed the shoes she’d plucked off the table and into a lone chair. He hadn’t said anything about it, too focused on eating before their dinner got cold. The TV was more background noise than them actually watching, either critiquing how bad the reenactments of the hauntings were or reciting commercials word for word when they weren’t reminiscing about their childhood.

Kagome wasn’t expecting him to ask “Why did you get those shoes if they hurt your feet so much?” out of the blue.

“Because I didn’t know they’d hurt my feet?”

“Give me your feet.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“Let me see, Kagome.”

“No!” To reiterate that she wasn’t about to show her feet to Inuyasha, Kagome tucked her legs underneath herself in an attempt to hide them.

She really wasn’t expecting Inuyasha to reach across the couch and grab at her legs.

Kagome let out a squeal and wiggled in her spot, trying to shake him off. Inuyasha had one of two moods; he could be the most reserved person in the room, or he could take initiative in the most outlandish way. There was no in between with him, and when he set his mind to something there was no stopping him. And he’d decided right then and there that he was going to pry her legs out from under her. She felt her weight being lifted off the couch and squealed again, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

His very…very…strong shoulders.

It gave her pause, feeling the strength in him and allowing him the chance to set her back on the couch cushions with her feet draped across his lap. It was hard not to be disappointed. No one had ever carried her like that as an adult. She didn’t think she was light enough, but Inuyasha… he’d handled her with ease.

Kagome gulped. Not good. ‘Don’t think about your friend like that, Kagome.’

“You okay?”

“Huh? Oh…y-yeah,” she mumbled, ducking her head. “You just surprised me. That’s all.”

“You thought I wouldn’t do it?”

“No I knew you would. I just…you’ve changed, Inuyasha.”

Dark brown eyes looked at her in confusion. “Is that good, or bad?” he asked with uncertainty.

“Good for you,” she assured him. “But…bad for me. I missed out on seeing the changes as they happened. You’ve gotten so strong. Your hair’s longer. I mean I could go on but you don’t look like the boy I had to tell that I was moving away anymore.”

Inuyasha snorted. “Good thing, then. Cause I remember the pictures,” he teased, hoping to cheer her up. “I’ve always been strong, if you’ll remember. Now I just look it, so I dare anyone to call me a fucking hobbit.”

She had been seconds away from letting slip that yes – yes he did look strong now – but it would not have come out sounding like a friend. “I love your hair,” Kagome said instead. Whether the mass of curls that hung around his shoulders were silver, or black as they were now, she loved them. “Long hair suits you.”

He grinned, reaching for one of her feet. “And not having bludgeoned feet from your boss running you ragged all day suits you.”

Kagome started to protest because she could always soak them the next day, but the moment he pressed his thumb into her instep, all that came out was a low moan. Oh god, that felt better than any foot soak! His hands slowly and delicately kneaded her feet, not missing a spot and watching her face for any signs of discomfort. When he had both massaged to his satisfaction, Kagome shifted around on the couch to lean against his side.

“You know you’re not my boss, right? Your father is.” She pointed out.

“You’re my personal assistant. That means you answer to me.”

“That sounds like I should call you Master,” Kagome snorted. “Do I need to get a genie costume?” There was a choked sound and she looked up at him to see him looking elsewhere. Was he…was he blushing? “You thought of something dirty, didn’t you?”

“N-no!”

“Yes you did!” Kagome laughed as the blush got brighter. “Tell me, Inuyasha! I wanna know!”

“You really don’t!”

“We’ve got all night, Inuyasha…” Okay that should not have made him blush more, so it had to have been something really dirty. Kagome bumped his shoulder with hers and started a string of “Please, please, please” since he was holding out on her. “You never kept secrets from me when we were kids,” she reminded him.

Inuyasha opened and closed his mouth for a minute. “This is waydifferent!” he pointed out, adding “You wouldn’t have filled out one of those costumes as easily back then!”

The silence was deafening.

Now Kagome was blushing. Inuyasha was still blushing, only looking like he was about to crawl into the couch after realizing what he’d just said out loud.

Kagome couldn’t decide if she was meant to be upset or flattered. ‘Oh god, that means he’s looked!’ her brain screamed at her. She knew she was nothing but a flat mess up until her sophomore year, and she hadn’t really developed until late that summer before her junior year began. Inuyasha wouldn’t have known that, but he’d noticed. She could get offended, be upset that he was insinuating something that was very much true at one point, or be flattered and take it as a compliment. She couldn’t react any other way because while there were other options, this was Inuyasha. He’d never given her any indication of anything else.

Finally she said, “I don’t know if I’d want a pink costume.”

The body she was still leaning against relaxed at her words. “Jewel tones would be better, anyway.”

“And I don’t know if I’d call you Master either.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because you get this weird look on your face when I say it! You’re not my boss, remember! We don’t need that power play dynamic in the office!”

Inuyasha visibly looked put out. “I wouldn’t do that,” he mumbled, but she could still see the hint of red on his cheeks, so she knewthe dirty thoughts were still simmering. “What if I asked you to call me Sir, then?”

“Like a Knight in shining armor?” she laughed.

“I took care of your feet, didn’t I?”

Kagome nodded, “That you did. Thank you, Inuyasha.” She dropped her head onto his shoulder, taking his hand in hers.

“Ought to be thanking you,” he replied, leaning back into the couch. “You could’ve told me no earlier.”

“I told you it’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway tonight.”

Fluff Prompts

#inuyasha #kagome #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #fluff prompts

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