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mamamittens · 1 year ago

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How Our Seeds Grow (Pt. 2)

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Pirates & young!GN!Reader

Main|First|Next

Warnings: Emotional distress, a very naked snail, and minor blood.

Ah! Almost forgot, for those that asked to be tagged: @iggy5055 @badluckinfrench (idk why it won't let me tag you bro, sorry, the minute I got to the 'f' it said no)

Word Count: 2,248

You’d never really considered what you’d do if you did ever run afoul of pirates. The other marines were usually quite good at keeping any real threat far from you, often by bodily tossing you to someone else. And you didn’t know if this was the usual fate of a marine caught by pirates either. It sure didn’t seem like it, but none of the pirates thought it was weird, so what did you know?

You were seated in a medical bay on board their ship clutching the hem of your shirt anxiously. You weren’t injured anymore but dried blood was still smeared over your face and collar. Nose a little stuffed up.

A man with a blue mask over half his face and a kind smile gently wiped your face off with a wet rag as he asked questions. Pheonix taking notes on a clipboard with a pleasant but vaguely fake smile. It didn’t even hurt, the damp, warm fabric just removing any leftover blood from your broken nose. When he was done, he pulled out a few tissues.

“Have you had any shots? Blow your nose into this and we’re done with that—” Deuce ordered softly, holding the tissues over your nose firmly as you followed his instructions.

“Nnn—I don’t know? I think so?” You whined, ears popping as your nose itched, now free of any leftover blood. Deuce winced and tossed the tissues away, wiping your face clean one last time. You rubbed your nose, wrinkling it with a grimace as the sensation faded. “…thanks.” You mumbled, still unsure about what you’re supposed to do.

You certainly couldn’t run. Where would you go? The ship had left port a few minutes ago and until that point you'd been carried or had a hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t call for help, the fight with Fire Fist was loud enough that anyone who could hear would have already shown up. And you definitely couldn’t fight.

Deuce smiled softly, patting your head.

“That’s alright, kid. We can figure out the rest later.” He reassured you. “What do you like to do? We’ve got a lot of stuff on the Moby Dick for all sorts of hobbies. And plenty of people willing to teach you if you don’t know how to do them.” He kneeled down so he was looking up at you, no longer towering over you despite sitting on an exam table.

You swallowed hard, wringing your shirt in uncertainty.

“I-I’m a marine? I don’t got time for hobbies. I clean or I train or I go on patrols.” You explained lamely. You’d seen some marines do things in their downtime. Like knit or read. Some gambled. But you’d always been kept busy and unable to really get to know the others on any base you were stationed at.

Deuce’s expression fell, Pheonix keeping his gaze fixed on the clipboard in his hands—but he gripped it hard enough you could hear the whine of the board under stress. Deuce cleared his throat, smile returning.

“Well! I guess that just means you get to try everything! You’re too young for any serious training.” Deuce explained cheerfully, tapping your nose.

“Bring-ring. Bring-ring. Bring-clack!” your snail called out as you scrambled to answer quickly, pulling him free from your pocket.

“H-Hello! E—”

“Where are you?! Ensign Williams was found passed out in the marketplace! It was supposed to be a simple patrol—you can’t just go running off because you feel like it!” Someone you think you recognized as the base captain’s assistant shrieked, tears pricking your eyes as you cleared your throat.

“U-Uhm… we were on patrol when my partner and I got orders to confront Fire Fist and to run if he was accompanied by another Whitebeard Pirate. W-Williams was beaten and… the Pheonix took me?” You mumbled, face red as you refused to look up.

“What?! Who the fuck gave that order—Never mind! You need to return to base immediately for punitive assignment, ensign!” You sniffed, tears falling as you impulsively choked out a strained cry,

“How?!” you sobbed anxiously as the snail was plucked from your hands. Through foggy glasses, you saw it was Pheonix but his expression was blurred.

“No.” Pheonix stated simply, his voice hard as you rubbed your eyes. “They won’t be returning, period. So, consider this their resignation.” Your chest tightened while Deuce rubbed your back, whispering into your ear.

“Easy, kid. You’re not in trouble—we won’t let them have you back, I promise.”

“But I gotta!” You whined, Deuce tutting as he pulled down your hands to wipe your face with the rag.

“No, no, no, you really don’t. It’s not your fault, alright?”

“ON WHO’S ORDERS?!” the vaguely familiar voice screeched.

“Ours.” There was a crunch of metal and a hand gently opened your palm. The snail’s firm weight notably lighter. You pulled back from Deuce’s attempt to clean your face, clumsily putting your glasses back to look.

The snail, a pleasant crème color, was missing his standard issue shell. Visibly shaking from either fright or a chill.

“O-Oh no, Cream, you’re naked!” You cried in despair, Deuce choking out a laugh. You jerked, remembering suddenly that you weren’t allowed to name the snails or get attached.

Pheonix kneeled down and stroked your cheek fondly. That familiar sensation of bated breath and birdsong in your chest almost reassuring in it’s intensity.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got some spare shells in storage. None that let you make calls though.” He reassured you as you placed your hand over Cream’s naked back. He looked a little relieved, ducking his head as much as he could in the small space you provided. “Think you can clean up the rest on your own? Ace should have found spare clothes by now.”

You sniffled.

“I-I have to wear a uniform though…” You objected. “It’s mine.”

Just about the only thing you did own, actually, besides pet treats. Even Cream was actually the base’s snail.

Pheonix’s expression twisted again into something sad and deeply troubled as he glanced over your uniform.

“Well… I doubt we can take off the letters, so the hat has to go… but you can keep this. How does that sound? We’ll get you new clothes soon.” Pheonix reassured you while gently tugging the blue fabric free from your shirt collar. He moved your hand and placed it over Cream with a soft smile.

You ducked your head shyly.

“…alright.”

Fire Fist trampled into the room with a bundle of clothes in his arms.

“Found it! A little big but these should fit just fine!” Fire Fist declared as he handed you the bundle, wrinkling his nose at the very naked Cream. “Uh, why’s the snail naked?”

Cream ducked under the blue fabric, skin turning a soft pink hue.

“Hey! Don’t be mean, he’s shy!” you protested before thinking better of it, though rather than take offense, Fire Fist held up his hands and laughed.

“Sorry, sorry! I just never see these guys without a shell—what happened?”

“Run along now, baby bird. Deuce will show you where to clean up while we help fit… Cream with a new shell.” Pheonix helped you off the table and picked up Cream with a slightly embarrassed look. Fire Fist almost asked again, it was clear on his face, but Pheonix glared and it was dropped. Deuce gently pushing you out of the room and towards a private bathroom.

“Take your time, alright kiddo?” Deuce told you softly as he closed the door, letting you have privacy. It was a modest bathroom and you took full advantage. Having the chance to take your time not something you’ve been afforded for a while since the bases have shared bathing areas and your partners were rarely patient enough to wait for long.

It felt weird not getting dressed in a clean uniform. The old one ripped up and dirtied from the marketplace. Your alternative a baggy white shirt with Whitebeard’s jolly roger and shorts that tied at the waist. You looked at the blue neckerchief that Pheonix was allowing you to keep, considering where to where it. The shirt didn’t have a collar to tie it around. Your wrists were too thin unless you wrapped your forearm. It was thankfully clean despite your bloodied nose.

After a long moment, you looked at the mirror.

You looked tired. Eyes red from crying behind your broken glasses but otherwise clean.

It felt wrong to wear this anywhere but your neck.

Decisively, you tied it around your neck like a bandana, pleased to find that you could pull it up over your chin easily. It wasn’t too tight or loose, the weight reassuring in the absence of the layered uniform collar.

Sadly, you folded up your old uniform and held it to your chest. Standing before the door as your heart raced. You weren’t sure why they decided to take you with them and the sudden change in routine was frightening—something you reluctantly admitted to yourself as you stared at the bathroom door.

They were nice but… if you could, you’d go back to the base right that minute. Even if it meant being given chores as punishment for ‘running away’. At least you knew what to expect on base. This pirate ship was a whole new situation though.

There was a yip from the other side of the door and nails scratching the wood.

“Hey! Don’t rush them, Stefan! Let the poor kid take their time.” Fire Fist chastised Stefan softly, a low whine echoing with a few, last petulant drags of nails on wood.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, still clinging to your old uniform with your eyes fixed to the floor.

“…hi.”

There was a shift of fabric and boots as suddenly Fire Fist squatted down low with a soft smile.

“Hey, kiddo. You alright? Nice bandana, it looks good on you.” He remarked, an almost understanding look in his eyes. Your chest ached and you shook your head before thinking better of it.

“I-I wanna go back. I-I’m going to be in so much trouble…” You whimpered thickly, tears quick to flood your cheeks. There was a flash of a grimace on Fire Fist’s face as he scooped you up, Stefan managing a single lick to your shin.

Fire Fist felt warm and bubbly. A soothing heat like a sun bathed rock on a beach that hugged you close. Hand brushing over your back.

“No, you’re not, c’mon now, no more tears. You can’t be crying into your food—the chef didn’t put teary stew on the menu! It’s not Thatch’s cooking but it’s still pretty good.” Fire Fist soothed you with a soft bounce to his step. “If this is about that uniform, I promise we’ll get you something way better soon! Haven’t you ever wanted to wear something else? Anything else? Whatever you want, you can have, I promise! Cheer up!”

Even through your tears you could smell the thick scent of dinner as a soft voice piped up behind you.

“They’re going to need some time to adjust, Ace. I know it’s hard to see them like this, but you have to let them let it all out. It’s like when you first came on board. Eventually you tired out from it… eventually.” Fire Fist’s grimace was clear despite the haze on your broken lenses. Cheeks pink as he blushed, holding you closer with a sheepish expression. “Think I can take those old clothes now, baby bird?” Pheonix asked softly, tapping the folded pile in your arms.

You felt your lips wobble as you held it tighter to your chest. A sob startled from you as Fire Fist bounced you to get your attention.

“Hey, looks like he wants to trade.” Fire Fist pointed out, jerking his chin towards Pheonix’s other hand. Cream sat in his curled palm, a sea green shell settled on his back. He looked far more comfortable now than he did before, his small arms wiggling towards you as he considered you with some worry.

After a long moment, you relaxed your grip, allowing Pheonix to take your old uniform and trade for Cream.

“…thank you. His new shell looks nice.” You whispered, holding Cream close as he tried to brush away your tears with a soft hum. You curled into Fire Fist’s arm, head tucked under his chin as you couldn’t help a weak sniffle.

“You’re welcome. Now let’s get you two something to eat. We’ll be arriving at the main flagship pretty late.” Pheonix advised as you glanced up at him. He smiled, cupping your face to swipe away a tear with more success than Cream had.

You wanted to reiterate how deeply in trouble you already were but all that you could say was a meek response.

“…okay.”

Pheonix handed off the clothes to Deuce and walked with Fire Fist towards the eating area.

“You’ll like it here with us eventually. Everyone loves it when we get a new baby on board.”

“Oi!” Fire Fist protested sharply. Pheonix grinned sharply, eyes narrowing at Fire Fist.

“Don’t get jealous~ you’re still a baby in Oyaji’s eyes.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Small nubby arms tapped your chin as Cream tucked himself close to your neck with a reassuring murmur.

Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. If everyone is like them. Even if they’re pirates.

#one piece #platonic yandere #oh sweet child of mine #how our seeds grow #marco the pheonix #fire fist ace #child reader #gender neutral reader

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ghost-bxrd · 10 months ago

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Okay so I know this wasn’t the intention, but I read the most recent part of Owl Song and now I can’t stop thinking about Ivy, Jason, and Dick.

Like, in canon she fought both of them as Robin (I think??? I’m pretty sure she was around for Dick’s Robin) and she’s one of the better Rogues in terms of motive and morals. She probably cared for both of them somewhat, so how do you think she (and the other semi-decent rogues) took it when Jason died?

Ah I see how it is, we’re unpacking the good questions now!!!

So at first Ivy probably didn’t notice. Let’s be real, she’s got better things to do then play “keeping up with the batfamily”, and yeah, sure, some of her plants have been getting agitated the more days went by without sightings of either Robin or his loyal shadow (either Batman or Talon/Nightwing), but eh, maybe they’re on vacation or something.

But then Batman is back on the streets and it’s BadTM. Even simple thugs need to be hospitalized, more than one comes close to actually dying (one even flatlines for a moment) and Ivy gets suspicious. Not enough to raise any alarms just yet, still, odd. And still no sight of Robin anywhere.

And then the Joker keeps being found. All over Gotham. Her plants her agitated, they keep whispering about the child-from-the-clocktower and the-one-who-is-cold. And even Ivy can’t keep turning a blind eye.

At first she checks in with Harley, but her girlfriend she doesn’t have any insight either having just returned from a mission with the Birds of Prey (timeline? What timeline). So, dead end. And Crane is a no-go because the Bat hospitalized him with way too many broken bones just the other day.

Two-face it is, but Harvey (both sides of him) are equally as disturbed by the Bat’s sudden volatility as Ivy and he is now on board with trying to find out just what made the Bat snap.

(At this point she’s having a veeery bad feeling about this. Especially because even weeks later Robin is still suspiciously absent from the streets, and there are only whispers of Talon/Nightwing and even her plants can’t seem to pin down either of them.)

Next up is the Riddler, who is already neck-deep into investigation (because how dare Batman not appreciate all his carefully laid riddles and instead punch in faces of low time criminals! And also he may be a teeny-tiny bit worried about the sassy sidekick but SUE him, the kid grows on you like a particularly stubborn case of the pocks ok!?) and immediately agrees to a temporary ceasefire.

So now we have part of the rogue gallery joining forces to find out just wtf is going on, and their next bet is the elusive Catwoman.

And let’s say Selina doesn’t know who Batman is but she’s got soft spot for the big burry anyway so she’s CONCERNED ok? It doesn’t take much persuasion to join forces with the rest of the rag-tag group of high profile rogues to figure this out, and her next proposition is this: grill the Penguin for information.

Oswald Cobblepot is SO not prepared for the joint forces of Catwoman, Two-Face, Riddler, Harley, and Ivy and before long he’s telling them what little he knows about the Joker and his excursion to Ethiopia.

And they all just kinda— freeze. Because— what? No, Robin can’t be dead. Robin is magic. That spunky little kid who’d throw pebbles at Riddler, the one who’d always try to pick-pocket Catwoman, the one urging Harley to leave-the-Joker-he’s-an-ass, the one who always drives Harvey insane with his prime numbers, the one who’d stalked all the way into Robinson park just to ask Ivy how to save the little potted plant he’d been gifted—-

No, no he can’t be dead… right?

But he is. And the talon who’d always kept him safe? That one is gone, too. Nobody knows where he went, but Batman is unspooling, and unspooling fast. And the rogues… well, for once they keep quiet. they don’t give Batman any additional grief (god knows he’s got enough) and instead now make it a point to keep kids out of their business in silent solidarity.

From that day forward any and all people who try to associate themselves with the Joker get taken down by them with extreme prejudice. You think Batman is bad? Try spouting some Joker loving bullshit in front of Ivy. She doesn’t even have to ask her plants to gut you and hang you from the carousel at amusement mile like a Christmas ornament. And god forbid you say anything negative about Robin.

#listening to Batman audio adventures really made me appreciate Harvey #and also Catwoman #and also riddler he’s hilarious #but I have a SOFT SPOT for Ivy #always #the rogues loved Robin in their own way #at least some of them #they also hated his guts #but still #that was THEIR Robin #how dare joker take him away #and where is the talon?#owl song #ghost talks #jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #bruce wayne #robin

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satrs · 1 year ago

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FOR THE EVENT PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE O2 WITH KUNIGAMI I BEG OF YOU 🙏🙏🙏

to the event

FEATURING; KUNIGAMI RENSUKE x FEM!READER

୨୧ TAGS; NSFW CONTENT. MDNI! pwp. mention of virgin!reader. corruption kink. unprotected intercourse. dirty talk. petnames(princess). veryyy small mention of size difference.

୨୧ WC; 0.4k

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

"Use your words."

You barely registered the gingers words, eyes rolling to the far back of your head at the new found pleasure.

“Princess, I’m talking to you.” His soft voice contradicted his merciless movements, hips drilling into yours. You struggle to hold yourself up by your feet, legs wobbling as he thrust into you from behind, the only leverage for you being the rough wall, chest pressed against it as your back arches.

You turn your head, forehead coated in sweat as you stumble over your words, boosting his ego with praises of "Never felt like this, ren'", you said, as he knocks your breath away with his harsh thrusts. "I can tell. Your practically sucking me in."

"Like it when I fuck you like this, huh? Make a mess out of you?" You nod rapidly, almost drawing blood from your captured bottom lip as you raise your tip-toes, feeling an odd sensation in the pit of your tummy.

"Ren', I feel weird." You whimper, a low chuckle reaching your ears. His hand turned your head back, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, movements not stopping their assault on your tight cunt, stretching you to your limit.

"You're gonna cum, right?" You nod your head hesitantly, squinting your eyes as the knot in your stomach threatened to snap in half at any given moment, your moans growing in volume.

"Hah- cum for me then. Make a mess, don't hold back." He murmured into your ear, biting your ear lobe in a teasing manner right after.

As his hand reached to your clit to push you over the edge, you gushed around him with a loud cry of his name. Without his iron grip on you, you would've probably fallen victim to gravity, barely able to hold yourself up at your feet as your vision blurred at the newfound feeling.

"F-fuck. Look at you. All messed up and dumb over my dick." Your expression only edged him on, the sight of your eyes rolling to the far back of your head with your mouth hanging agape, drool gathering at the corner of your lips as his hips continuously ram into you.

"And you fucking love it." His voice was shallow, ragged breathing causing his rhythm to flatter and turn irregular. His head buried into your neck while his abs tensed, cum threatening to spill out of his angry mushroom head. "I know you do. Because I do too."

#my work 𓆩⟡𓆪 #lec writes!۵ #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk kunigami #kunigami smut #kunigami rensuke #blue lock #blue lock manga

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demonbanger · 2 years ago

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𝙄𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤. 𝙄𝙩’𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙄’𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪. | 18+

★ ft. sex demon! EUSTASS KID ★

[ click for pt. 1 - don’t fret precious I’m here ]

★ summary: the incubus you summoned this month doesn’t like it when you show interest in other men and makes sure you know it.

🎧 song: Murder Song- Scum of the Earth | Entombed - Deftones

★ pairing: incubus! Eustass x fem! Reader

★ cw: possessive jealous bully Eustass, service dom disguised as brat tamer, aftercare, somno mention

★ taglist: @quinloki @slut4animedilfs @mrpoople @archangel1206 @downforsanji @nikos-a-clown @goshitshardtohaveagoodname @pinkcrystal-rose @detoniara @domainofmarie (if the tag didn’t work sorry bb)

___________________________________

Having a sex demon take your life energy was really not as bad as the Internet forums said.

Maybe it was because Eustass fucked you so well and made you cream around his cock so much every night, that you slept like a baby and you didn’t notice anything more than that.

You welcomed the change…you had bouts of insomnia anyways before meeting him. And as long as you ate plenty, drank enough water, and had caffeine near your bed, waking up the next day felt like the usual brain fog you always had. You’d have a sleepy smile on your face as you’d walk funny to go pee in the morning and look down to see your skin littered in his bite marks. And knowing you left him with the same markings.

One thing you started to notice was you never woke up a real mess despite how rough the nights were.

Sometimes you woke up with a load inside you since you’d pass out and Eustass would still have his way with your body (you consented to being his toy for him to freely use), but somehow you were still…taken care of in a subtle way.

Your room wouldn’t be in too much disarray even when you swore he tore your clothes off and threw them across the room in the crazy, lust-fueled night before.

Or you could’ve sworn you passed out butt naked on top of the sheets, but somehow you woke up underneath them.

After a week, you’d wake up from your slumber with a can of Monster energy (probably stolen from a gas station) on your desk.

It was almost as if Eustass wanted to help you, even when he had to go back to hell. The way he used you, called you a whore as he grunted in your ear and bounced you on his cock, manhandled you like you were nothing but a rag doll, not really cuddle with you after…all seemed like he would be heartless and uncaring. But past the rough exterior he seemed like he had a slight bit of decency,, and that made you really mean it when you’d call him Daddy, or obediently listen to his commands, or agree “yes Eustass! I’m your pet! Your Fucking doll! Fuck yes right there, nghhh—”

It kind of sucked when he stopped coming. You figured captains of hell’s legions were probably busy creatures, so you’d patiently wait, or just try and get yourself off whenever summoning him didn’t work.

But those days turned into weeks, you realized…it was torture. Trying to get yourself to cum was just never the same, and it was so maddening being back to the feeling that made you summon him in the first place: your fingers never spreading you out the same, lacking the rough skin texture of his fingers that rubbed against your clit so well, dildos not even comparing to his tentacle-like tongue that ate you out like no tomorrow, or thrusting into you so perfectly like his gorgeous cock that molded you to his size.

Eustass was right. He fucking ruined you. He ruined toys for you. His mocking laugh of how he even probably ruined other men’s dicks for you would echo in your ear as each day went on. It pissed you off because now, you weren’t a desperate horny bastard like before you met him—you were worse because that demon showed you heaven by giving your pussy hell.

And by raising your damn standards to the fucking moon.

And he didn’t even say goodbye or if he’d come back. He just left you wondering if he had his fill of you and got bored of his pet, if you sucked his giant cock well enough (well you genuinely couldn’t fit that much of it and you swore his amber eyes would roll back with you jerking off the rest of him), or what you could do to reach him better.

After three weeks. Three, fucking, weeks. You decided you were sick and tired of waiting or guessing. Clearly his absence was an answer that spoke for itself.

~~~~

One more failed orgasm, and you’re downloading a hookup app even though you swore off them because you had a few rotten relationships that came from dating apps. But this is different! Right? You’re just hooking up with a guy! Nothing special!

You create a profile and get dolled up in something other than the punk, red, black, lace, latex-type ensembles you’d wear for Kid. Because you’re not dressing for him anymore. You’re not a demon’s bitch.

Within an hour, you receive a notification. It’s a pretty, brunette boy who’s rather polite to you. Asks you questions to get to know you but not in a creepy way, finds out you’re here to fuck, but still says respectful.

You both exchange a few pictures, and he is very pretty. Just got out the shower, he shows you a picture of his pretty, tanned body all damp with curls dripping. You want to know what’s under that damn towel that’s hugging his hips so well.

You express that you’re bored tonight, don’t go out much, and he answers:

“Well, if you’d like, I’d love to satisfy you. Just let me know where you feel safest. I can even bring you food.”

The fact that he offers to take care of you or at least bring you food is something else…you reply:

“If you can FaceTime, for obvious reasons, it’s a done deal.”

And FaceTime he does. His voice is charming. And it sounds especially charming as he moans in your bed, thrusting sensually inside and out. Rocking your bed back and forth.

He’s a really good kisser, too. Holding your face in his warm hands, looking into your eyes with pretty hazel eyes that sparkle.

You think, if you have to settle for a human and put all this demon shit behind you, he would be a great option. At least as a fuckbuddy.

He’s great with aftercare. Great at learning which spots make you wetter, makes you blush from praise, is great at fucking you in doggy.

But he’s missing something. He’s not Eustass. You feel terrible for pushing an entire demonic entity as a standard for a guy who’s just a human, who’s a really good guy and probably an amazing boyfriend too. Fuck. Stop thinking about that demon, he probably won’t come back ever. He probably forgot who you are. You get annoyed with yourself for even letting him occupy parts of your mind and use that as even more of an excuse to enjoy your time with this man. This man, with the way he holds your hands above your head in missionary, the way he brings a hot wet towel to clean you, the way he tells you you did so well, cuddles you with the smell of his intoxicating cologne.

You try to fight off the sinking feeling that there’s still some part of you that’s frustrated. Maybe you can train this man to degrade you, be rougher with you. You know he wishes he could stay the night with his puppy dog eyes but it’s just a hookup, so he courteously goes back home when it gets too late. He tells you goodbye with a wink.

“Call me anytime,” Gabe says, and you smile as you close the door. This is going to be your life. Not too bad, because apparently there are good men out there. Why are you such a brat who can’t be satisfied?

You decide to go to bed early. Maybe it’s for your good that you don’t stay up as long as Eustass would keep you. And that you don’t wake up so sore, wincing when you walk.

————— meanwhile in hell…———————————

He couldn’t help but think about you, but you were getting distracting from his work and consuming his mind which was supposed to be focused on commanding hell’s army.

Your sweet, delicious smell. The way you’d tell him you’re his in that sweet little human voice, muffled by the covers. The way he’d have to peel your hands away from your face so he could taste your tears and eat up your pretty moans. How your hands felt so soft, so pretty as they’d scratch him bleeding.

Any time he’d train to be stronger, your voice begging him to go “Harder, Eu, faster, please” would send blood down there instantly.

He watched your marks on his pale skin fade with time, hoping the torturous memory of your pretty self keeping his cock warm would also fade. But it seemed like any time he’d close his damn eyes, your face was there to greet him. It made him feel…weird. And he didn’t like it. It felt like a lost feeling he may have had before, hundreds of years ago. But he didn’t want to think about it or unlock a whole new Pandora’s box of this thing called…feelings. Because they were starting to claw at him like your little nails, and the danger he sensed was a deeper, darker danger than any enemy he’d faced when commanding the legions of demons to fight the spiritual war.

Somehow you, a human so small compared to him, were more dangerous than any creature that existed in the entire goddamn universe, and you weren’t even trying to be.

He felt like one of your exes stalking you on social media, when he’d peek into your life every now and again to make sure you weren’t getting yourself hurt. To make sure his little pet wasn’t making some dumb decision.

Because you’re a stupid human, one who he couldn’t help but feel belonged to him.

You seemed to be getting along just fine, which annoyed him as much as he knew should’ve relieved him. You stopped calling for him. And he watched as one night when he casually stalked checked in on you, you started calling out another man’s name, a man who carried the name of an angel. That’s when he got pissed. Betrayed. But he did nothing, even when he wanted to rip that guy’s head right off his skinny little neck. It was for his own good that he kept out of the affairs of humans, even you.

His stomach sank, while also burning hotter than hell, when you came around that man’s cock. “Are you really gonna let that man take your human like that?” his vice-admiral Killer asked, and it made something in him tick. So when he heard your call a few earth days later, naturally he had to take back what was his. Because what demon would he be if he wasn’t selfish, self-serving, taking what’s his that shouldn’t be his, and indulging in a human lady?

————————————————————————

You had given up on touching yourself because what was the fucking point. Thus all this sexual energy got so pent up; despite your best efforts, your bad habit of thinking about a dumb demon got worse than ever. So here you are right now, sitting on your bed, wearing something sexy, hoping he could hear you and smell your wetness. Trying to call him one last time couldn’t hurt, right?

You wait, patiently, thinking of his presence, his voice, his scent. Nothing happens. No chill up your back, no glowing sigil. You try and fight the sinking feeling in your abdomen. You should’ve known better. Maybe you’ll just…snuff your candles and stop playing with hell.

Just as you think maybe he’ll never come back and you might as well give up, you hear a gruff throat clear and open your eyes.

“You called?”

You want so badly to be mad, so badly to be mean, to not bat an eye at him, but he looks extra delicious today. He’s dressed in all black and silver, matching the ensemble you’re wearing. He’s got leather and metal spikes adorning his features, but his delicious torso is bare as usual. He’s eyeing you hungrily, possessively, and you realize despite your stupor that you need to give him a little bit of grief.

“Yeah, I called, only about 20 times,” you snap. He isn’t very surprised at your sass. He knew you’d say something bratty, but he doesn’t apologize or anything. He doesn’t say he misses you. He in fact, opens your lingerie drawer and picks up your colorful pieces, and has the gall and the gumption to be almost accusatory towards you.

“What the fuck are these.” Eustass stares blankly, and it’s kind of hilarious because you never told him you got lingerie that didn’t suit his vibe, so that must mean one thing: he checked up on you.

“It’s lingerie, never seen it before?” What an idiot. Your idiot. You hide a chuckle of realization behind a veil of faux snark. He scoffs.

“They don’t know the real you like I do. The absolute freaky kitten you are, and quite frankly I’m glad you don’t show them that side of you. Because only I can bring that out,” like a cat pushing a glass off the countertop after his possessive monologue, the big redhead tosses the garments in your trash bin, just like he did to your sex toys that one night, and you gasp incredulously.

He continues to zero in on you, his heat and familiar smell immediately causing wetness to trickle between your legs. You hate how quickly he does what he does to you. Before you could think, his lips are on yours, feverishly kissing you, consuming you. And even crazier than that, you’re letting him. He’s crawling on top of you on the bed, surprisingly keeping both of your guy’s clothes on, prying apart your legs to make his home there. Right where he belongs.

His tongue explores your mouth like it’s searching for something, and he snarls possessively, hands carding over your hair and petting your soft skin. Oh he wants-wants you.

You almost get that feeling of not being wanted right out of your head. He’s erasing it in seconds, pinning you to the bed like this, kissing down your neck, biting a bit harder than usual, biting wet hickies all over your breasts.

Right when you instinctively buck your hips up to meet his—

“Ah-ah-ah. Not so fast,” he clicks his large tongue. “I can bet you even let that guy fuck you raw and probably even cum inside you. Have you forgotten who you belong to?”

His knee jams between your thighs when you wait a second too long to answer, and hits your sweet spot. You bite your lip and try to stay composed.

“T-three weeks, Eustass, not a single word or anything. I thought you were done with me.”

He snarls into your ear, knee pressing into your clit harder, almost insulted. “Really? You thought I’d be done with you? What a stupid, fucking idea, Y/n, did I fucking stutter when I said this pussy is all mine?”

You squirm away from him, but his hand rubs you harshly though your thin bodysuit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from your throat. “No, but—”

“Then I don’t want to fucking hear it,” Eustass’ fingers dip under the layer of fabric, pushing it to the side, and plunge deeply into your throbbing wet core, clenching his jaw at how your soft, warm walls grip him just right. He’s effective in shutting you up and reducing you to whines as his thumb traces over your soaked, puffy clit.

“You only get this wet for me, right?” You try to maintain eye contact as he curls into that spot inside you, and can only nod your head, gaze averting from his smug amber eyes.

“You know, I’m not done with you until I say I’m done, so I don’t get why you’d go around giving my pussy out to other guys when I told you what would happen.” His eyes smirk at how you clench at his possessive words. You note how he’s trying to sound tough and mean, but there’s a softer tone than usual. He’s butthurt, and might actually be sorry. His next words are extremely serious however.

“So you’re going to pick your punishment doll. Either I kill that motherfucker for stealing you away from me and you watch,” (your heart does backflips because it was more like Eustass being in your thoughts stealing your attention away from the man), “ or, or, you take the fall for Mr. Perfect and I keep going no matter how much you beg and cry, hmm?” You know the obvious answer. Eustass was threatening you with a good time and reclaiming you as his when you never stopped being his. No matter how much you tried.

He’s out of patience, not like he ever has any.

“Well?” He removes his fingers and slaps your clit harshly, the yummy stretch replaced with a harsh sting.

You snap out of your pleasured trance with a moan.

“S-second one, Eustass, use me up, please,” you cry, the way you say his name with your pretty pouty lips making his dick twitch. He fights back a smirk at how easy it is to make you beg.

“You better cut that dipshit out of your life then, because you’re my fucking plaything, and I don’t share with anybody, got it?”

And right when you nod, he’s pulling your bodysuit off and keeping his clothes on. His fingers are back inside you, and the redhead’s smeared painted lips are suctioning on your clit, not even giving you a single second.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan, but can’t move your hips because he’s holding you down with his big, heavy weight so you’re forced to take it 100%.

“Dumb, desperate kitty. I know you can’t get enough of my cock or last even a few weeks when I’m on a voyage in hell. That right, ya spoiled brat?” he’s rumbling before he goes back to tongue-fucking your hot walls, smearing your juices around your clit and spitting on your pussy to add to the mix.

You can do nothing but whimper, “mhm,” as he makes himself more mad.

“Was there anything special about him?” He fucks you on his hand, relishing in how you’re absolutely dripping with arousal and sucking his thick fingers inside you. A familiar heat begins to rise in your core as pleading tears fill your eyes.

You can’t think of an answer and open your mouth, but only whimpers come out; when he adds another finger your brain melts. It already feels like the girth of a cock, except curling to hit the g-spot that makes you yank on the feral male’s fluffy red hair.

“You were so fast to try and replace me,” he growls, and your thighs tremble over his shoulders.

“Tell me this,” he rubs your clit in perfect circles impossibly quick, making you buck into his hand greedily. You feel your high approaching, and you begin to convulse around him, and he nibbles on your inner thigh and holds you down again, effectively pinning you into the mattress.

“You’re not getting away, pretty,” he snarls, admiring how much he affects you as he keeps pumping his fingers in, “tell me—were you successful at replacing me with a little boytoy?”

Your breaths are heaving, you’re sobbing at how good he’s making you feel. “N-no! I wasn’t!” He laps at your clit and suckles on it like you’re his last meal before an execution.

As spots dot your vision, you scream, “only you can make me feel this g—oh!!!” Your back arches into his face as you come undone underneath his ministrations, and his cock is so hard it hurts as you splash his face.

He groans as he continues to finger-fuck you and lap up all you have to offer, his little taste of heaven.

Your body feels like the epitome of standing up too fast, except it’s lasting. But he’s not done. He takes out his fingers, sucks on them, and goes back down, dipping his long tongue inside you.

“I’m still pretty fucking mad that my princess thinks she can call up whoever she wants. You’ll help make me feel all better again,” he remarks, tongue dipping back in. It’s too much, your violent orgasm still has you reeling, and his tongue inside sets your nerves ablaze.

You suck in his tongue so nicely, and he massages your walls with the muscle and prods at the spot that makes your toes curl.

“Oh fuck! Eustass! G-gonna…gonna…” new tears fall down your face as you beg him with your eyes. He chuckles against you, the vibrations making you spasm until you find your release once again. He moans into your plush pussy at how wet you are and how you feel squeezing his tongue. The smell of you, the taste of your arousal, has him drunk and wanting more. So does he stop to give you a break? He absolutely does not. He smooshes kisses against your sloppy pussy—his favorite and only pussy—and scissors his fingers inside you again. Now this is really too much. You plead with him to slow down, to stop, to give you a minute.

“Remember, baby, you decided to get punished by me,” he carefully scrapes his sharp teeth against your clit and you squeal, grabbing his horns, “and I’m a wicked, awful, bad guy. I’m selfish. I’m rotten. I’m Eustass the Fucking Merciless.” He bites your thigh and breaks some skin at the same time as he rubs your clit that hurts. It hurts, because you’re way overstimulated out of your mind. His thrusting fingers are too much, you’re trying to push him away, but he’s too heavy. Too strong. Too big.

“Be a good girl and give up,” you hear him rasp, his pace unrelenting, and with sobbing pleas, he makes you cum again. And again. You’re basically numb at this point, throat dry from screaming, brain dead and unable to say anything that makes sense. Absolutely wrecked from pleasure.

“There, there,” he slaps your clit cruelly, and your whole body shakes. He’s still fully clothed and everything, and you feel it and are reminded of the power he has to reduce you to a pitiful whining puddle as he goes up to kiss you. You surrender immediately, pliable, weak. His tongue captures yours in a kiss and you tiredly feel down his warm, muscular body. You smell your heady scent and taste your arousal on him. All of your juices and devouring you has taken off his lipstick. His entire face is soaked in you. Because Eustass eats you like he fucking means it.

He eats all of your whimpers, and eventually you begin to kiss back a bit more, and he deeply laughs into the kiss, entire chest vibrating against your torso. “Little kitten,” he squeezes your cheeks, and kisses your scrunched, pouty lips. “Hope you’re ready to get fucked for real this time.”

You don’t even feel like you’re thinking while you’re getting the words out.

“M’your kitten,” you pout at him with glassy eyes that make him crumble, “need you inside me, please,” you punctuate with a tug on his clothing, and he gets up, wasting no time. He’s so pretty and tall as he takes off his outerwear, unbuckles his belts, takes off his pants. He climbs back on top of you in no time, panting through his mouth, amber eyes hooded in desire. Eustass Kid is weak in the knees for you, and he’s admitting it all over. He pumps his cock, squeezing the head and gathering his own slick on his fingers. He brings them to your lips, and you suck on them, tasting his sweet musk.

He’s so goddamn gorgeous, smiling down at how well you suck his fingers. He may have a smug expression on his face, but his eyes sparkle with something a bit more.

You spread your legs a little bit wider to give him room to slot his thick hips between you thighs. His thick head rubs against your still sensitive pussy, and he sinks in to the hilt in one thrust. Nothing could prepare you enough for how big of a cock he has, not even a regular sized man’s cock plus a couple of fingers. You blink back more tears you didn’t know you had, and he’s giving you no mercy as he thrusts into you again and again, with no regards to your crying.

“Gonna wreck you so. fucking. good,” he says through clenched teeth, holding your knees to your chest, as he reaches you so deep, you feel his tip kissing your cervix.

“Eu’! Slow down! Please! Please! Please! Please!” You whimper in time with his thrusts.

“You’re telling me to slow down, and begging me to keep fucking you. Which is it? Don’t got a lot going on up there, do ya?” he chides as he continues to slam into you, balls slapping you as you get wetter from his bullying.

“So mean, Eustass,” you whimper, creaming around his cock, as he brings a hand up to your throat. Your eyes roll up and tongue sticks slightly out. He groans at how well you’re taking him.

“And you like it, don’t you?” He glances at your jiggling tits and back up at your fucked-out expression. You are absolutely ruined already, and his cock hasn’t even been in you for that long.

You nod, a hand squeezing his forearm and he clenches just a little bit harder. You gasp for air and are even more turned on, and he lets go to watch you take in a sharp breath and moan it out.

“Yeah, I know you like it, I know you like getting wrecked, and that’s why you’re perfect fr’me, y’know that?”

“Y-yeah, I do!“

His voice suddenly softens, and it catches you off guard, but he’s still fucking you with the same force.

“No one can fuck you as hard as I can, right baby?”

His eyes..they hold almost a sadness? You grab the hand that was near your throat and turn and kiss it, which makes his heart flutter in his chest, but he’ll never admit it.

“N-no one can, daddy, ‘s’only you! I’m sorry daddy,” your brain is turned to mush and he sees it in your mindless eyes, and he groans and pins you down into a mating press, his heavy weight just about crushing you.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about,” he groans, and bites and kisses your neck. Your limbs squeeze around him to hold him as close and as deep inside you as possible.

“Want your cum in me, Eustass, please!” You sob in his ear. “Fill me up, I’m only yours! I’m sorry I got so lonely without you.”

He moans as he kisses your neck, still thrusting into you deeply and quickly. You decide to keep going, lost in lust and wanting him inside you forever.

“Need you, please don’t leave me, m’ your fuckdoll,” you moan, and his eyes snap to yours. His pupils are blown so wide.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, and he kisses you, wraps an arm around you, and rolls you both over so he’s fucking up into you and holding you close on top of his chest. Your moans are drowned in his kiss, and you feel so safe, so amazing in his warm embrace. His long, massive arms cover just about your entire torso. Your hands hug around his head, and he’s barreling into you sloppily, frantically, like a wild beast in a desperate rut.

“As if I’d ever leave you,” he mutters lowly, and his last thrusts are slow, before you feel hot white gushing inside, coating your insides. You both moan, and kiss, and he slows down to a halt for a few moments.

His heart hammers in his chest as he looks up at you, and you blush.

“What?” You ask, flustered.

“Fucking brat. I only left because ‘m falling for your dumb ass.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Turn around,” he sneers.

“But—!”

He manhandles you, pulling out and relishing in the way your juices dribble out of your pussy. He sits up and turns you around with his strong hands.

“Sink back down. Now.” You do as you’re told. He’s still fucking hard.

“Good fucking girl, now stay still like a little doll,” he lays you both back down, and grips the bottom of your thighs and lifts them until your knees are to your chest. He hooks his arms around your legs and holds your head so you’re in a full Nelson. You squeeze into his thick arms for support.

“Look how well you grip my cock,” he groans as he thrusts deeply into you, your pussy gripping him on the way out.

“Oh fuck,” You moan at the sight.

“It’s so clear you don’t want me to leave, even your pussy doesn’t want to let go. So I guess I’m stuck with you,” Eustass rumbles over the sound of skin slapping and slick spreading as if that’s the most reasonable conclusion..which it is.

“I’m made for you, no one else makes me feel so good, so full,” you whine, boosting his ego as he slowly hits your sweet spot.

“Yeah? You mean it and not just lying to me?” He grunts, glad you’re unable to see how much he’s hoping you’re telling the truth.

“You ruined me, can’t enjoy it if it’s not you, need you, only you Eustass,” you confess, and you swear his cock twitches inside you.

He unlatches you. “Fuck,” he snarls, and changes positions so you’re in doggy. “Say that again,” he grips your ass, and you turn to look at him, and whimper at how intently he’s looking at you.

“Only you can fuck me this good, I want only you forever,” at the forever, he inhales a sharp breath, the pretty sound leaving his pretty lips, plus the fire in his eyes threatening to consume everything around you, plus his thickness filling you in this position, plus his balls slapping your clit, plus the way his giant hands hold your hips so securely, makes pleasure fill your brain again to the brink of overflowing.

“Yeah? Well shit, gonna keep you then, Y/n,” he all but whines. Hearing him say your name with such breathlessness makes you clench around him, and he rubs circles on your clit.

“You gonna cum for me? Again, you selfish little princess?” He coos, as your fourth orgasm of the night approaches.

“Yes, Eustass! So close,” you whine.

He keeps pistoning inside you and stimulating your clit like the perfect incubus. “Good baby, cream around my cock just like fucking that,” he moans, and you see white once again, screaming silently, eyes clenching tightly. He goes a few more thrusts into your clenching cunt, and moans as he spills inside of you.

He’s panting a little, and you’re collapsing into the bed.

“Such a weak human,” he smooths over your lower back, slowly pulling out and admiring the cream pie. You’re actually pretty strong for being able to handle him, and he finds only you as worthy of his cock specially for that reason.

You feel yourself on the brink of passing out when you feel him help you to the restroom so you can take care of business. You sleepily wash you hands after and collapse in the mattress, tired out of your mind. Then you gasp at a warm, wet towel wiping you clean. He’s probably going to leave soon, you think sadly. Why did you tell him not to leave you? So stupid …though…wait…didn’t he tell you he was falling for you?

Then the mattress groans and sinks behind you as you lay on your side.

A large arm snakes around you. Wait what?

He leans his face into the crook of your shoulder. “Because someone is so clingy,” he mutters, and you roll your eyes because he’s the clingy one. You shift to turn around to face his warm chest, and almost hear purring when you set his arm back to curl around you more. “Mhmm,” you sleepily hum, and his heart leaps at how sweet and adorable you are, two things he’s very unfamiliar with but has come to love. He can’t believe he’s doing this, watching you sleep.

You both relax in each other’s presence. Quiet.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, you hear him whisper,

“Fucking love you,” as he admires your resting form.

_______________________________________

#[✏️] speaking in tongues #demon papí draws #eustass x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid smut #eustass kid x fem reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #tw monsterfucking #zoro smut #sanji smut #luffy smut

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notepadsandtealeaves · 1 year ago

Text

Dick Grayson x F!Reader in: The Penalty Round

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| GN!Reader | M!Reader | Ao3 Version ||

|| Dick’s Tag | Batboys M.list | Batboys Tag | Personal Blog ||

|| The SFW prequel: The Curious Case of the Lovers in the Library || || F!Reader (Ao3) || GN!Reader (Ao3) || ((some links pending))

↠ Requested By: The ~heaux~ in me ↠ Reader Gender: Female ↠ Content Type: NSFW af ((make no mistakes, I will 100% fight a kid if I see them on this post)) ↠ CWs/TWs: There’s nothing too out there, but still make sure to peep the in story note for the deets. ↠ If you’re looking for a beta-ed work you have come to the wrong place, my friend lol. ↠ Total WC: 3k~

“‘And the loser will be completely at the mercy of the winner.’ Those were your exact words, baby, don’t you remember?” His eyes are bright with an impish sort of glee as he pulls back to take in your replying expression—the needy glint in your gaze, the alluring way your lip sits trapped between the pearl of your teeth, the ragged breaths that leave your chest heaving… “Oh yes, that is definitely a look,” he comments, a harsh exhale punctuating his words. “And a damn good one too…” You could certainly say the same about him. His amusement has been slowly draining away as he continues to regard you until all that is left behind his something darker, hungrier…

↠ Who says you can’t win for losing?

This brief bit of spiciness with my second favorite Bat is brought to you by The Thirst™ lol. I’m trying to get back into the swing of things, so if this is just “meh”/anything seems off blame that…

|| The Penalty Round

💦 Tags: Reader uses she/her pronouns | Reader has female anatomy | Pre-established relationship | Dick’s waistline being problematic | ((said problem is that my legs are not currently wrapped around it #madaboutit)) | ((why is it like that, if not for us to grab, huh? HUH??!)) | A v. brief mention of cum eating (Reader) | Oral (Reader giving) that leads into throat fucking (kinda rough, but not too much) | OP’s Dick’s praise kink is showing | Which means there’s lots of pet names (good girl, baby, honey, etc.; Reader receiving) | Reader gets that good oral-handy combo | Unprotected sex (remember to be safe IRL, so on and so forth) | Vaginal sex (more specifically a mating press, Reader receiving) | Knowing me there’re probably some v. light dom/sub undertones | ((that wasn’t necessarily my intent, but it is kinda my brand lmao)) | And finally a bit of afterglow‘n’cuddles before falling asleep in Dick’s arms because that is the Good Shit™

“Ready to settle up, love?”

The question is posed over the muted sound of Dick depositing you onto his bed. His preference for a softer, cushier mattress doesn’t allow for you to bounce, but rather you sink into its plushness with a giggle. Any answer you might have given is lost under another peal of mirth as he follows you down with a laugh of his own. Long limbs cage you in as he settles the perfect amount of weight onto you and the feeling grounds you even as the drag of his lips over your pulse point has you arching into his touch. Kisses tease themselves up the length of your neck and across the breadth of your face; he’s thorough, covering every spot readily available to him while simultaneously avoiding the pout of your lips. It doesn’t take long for you to voice your displeasure, but your breathy whines are only met with a playful chide.

“‘And the loser will be completely at the mercy of the winner.’ Those were your exact words, baby, don’t you remember?”

His eyes are bright with an impish sort of glee as he pulls back to take in your replying expression—the needy glint in your gaze, the alluring way your lip sits trapped between the pearl of your teeth, the ragged breaths that leave your chest heaving…

“Oh yes, that is definitely a look,” he comments, a harsh exhale punctuating his words. “And a damn good one too…”

You could certainly say the same about him. His amusement has been slowly draining away as he continues to regard you until all that is left behind his something darker, hungrier. The weight of his want has lidded a gaze that is more pupil than iris, with the vivid blue having been ceded ground like a freshly eclipsed sun. Altogether it’s a look that says he’s more than ready to devour you whole and with the way he’s got you feeling right now you’re beyond down. He knows this, of course, and it definitely shows. A smirk slowly creeps its way across the plush of his mouth as he rises up to his knees.

“But if you’re that eager to do something with those pretty lips of yours, well…”—his thumb drags across your bottom lip with a deliberate slowness, reveling in the slight bounce it gives when his touch moves to trail down your chin—“I guess I’ll just have to put them to work then.”

He reaches back to gather a fistful of his shirt before pulling it up and over his head. Though the movement is tantalizing in and of itself (the way his arms and stomach flex as he shrugs out of the clingy material has to be illegal, at least in a few states) what it leads to is undeniably better. You whimper at the sight of him—the sleek, but powerful musculature, its broadness tapering out into a taught waist that just begs to be held on to, be that under the curve of eager palms or trapped between equally willing thighs.

His hands are purposeful as they ghost their way over his frame, from the soft whorls of hair that cover his chest and beyond. The short, downy soft strands’ raven hue contrasts beautifully with the natural tan of his skin enticing your eyes to follow the trail down to the sharp V-cut of muscle and further still to the joggers that sit sinfully low on his hips. It’s here that his hands linger, just for a moment, just long enough to make you squirm with impatience. His fingers dance along the band a few times before he finally, finally hooks his thumbs in and pushes the material down. The move isn’t nearly as smooth as everything that has preceded it, can’t be when his ass is that damn fat, but at this point you’re too gone to care.

With that final barrier gone his cock sits proudly on display, curved deliciously and bobbing under its own weight. Your mouth goes dry as you take in the dark flush of it, the way precum pearls against its tip before spilling over into a trail that your tongue is desperate to follow. He’s already so hard and yet he somehow manages to get even harder as he takes himself in hand and begins to stroke. The play of his pretty fingers over his equally pretty dick is mesmerizing, so much so that you don’t even realize he’s moved until the tip is nearly touching your lips. Without any cognizant thought on your part your tongue darts out to catch his still dripping arousal before retreating back into your mouth so that you can properly savor your prize; as always the taste leaves you groaning and greedy for more, your lids fluttering as you swallow thickly. The needy (and thoroughly debauched) display has Dick chuckling darkly.

“Such a good, eager girl,” he coos as his free hand caresses your cheek.

He doesn’t even have to tell you to open up, not when your lips have already parted as wide as they can go, your tongue lolling out in anticipation. The sight leaves him cursing hotly under his breath as he guides his length into your waiting warmth. You both moan at that first contact, though the vibration of your pleasured mewl sees Dick’s devolving into a gritted out hiss; at the same time his hips stutter but he’s able to stop himself before he gags you. This kindness isn’t extended for much longer, however, as he’s quick to set up a pace that’s just this side of brutal.

With every forward push his cock goes that little bit further until he’s fully fucking your throat. The sound of your moan laced gags can just be heard over your man’s near continuous stream of curses and praise. Though the angle makes things a bit more perilous you brace yourself and let Dick take what he needs, what you’re all too willing to give.

“Look at the way you swallow me down,” he pants in a voice that sounds just as wrecked as you feel, “my good, perfect girl. So, so good, always so good…”

It’s clear that both of your brains have fuzzed over—his from the pleasure that has him damn near shuddering above you, and you from his very apparent approval. You work your tongue along the underside of his cock as much as you can wanting, needing, to make him feel even better, to draw more of those sweet words out of him which you most certainly do. The pair of you are trapped in this feedback loop of lust for only a few minutes more before Dick is pulling out fully with a half-choked growl. You only have enough time to take one lung filling breath before his lips are crashing into your own. The kiss is a raw, feral thing full of tongue and teeth and a desperation that has you tearing at one another’s clothes.

Once your bottoms are gone an impatient hand makes its way to your center and Dick lets out a breathy little curse at the sheer amount of wetness that greets him. “All this just from sucking cock, babe?” he asks on a chuckle as he coats his fingers in your slick, their pads tracing teasing circles around your entrance before sliding up to your clit. The jolt of pleasure that courses through you reduces your reply to a reedy cry of his name that trails off into a hiccuping moan, a thing that clearly suits your man just fine.

“I was ready to fuck you into the mattress,” he continues on in a tone far too casual, all things considered, “but hearing you sing so pretty for me makes me want to play with you a bit more, so I think I will…”

The fingers that had been working your pearl over so perfectly close around it in a pinch that has you arching sharply off of the bed with a hiss. The movement is cut short, however, by him once again settling himself over you. Though he starts with his head tucked in against the crook of your neck, the vigilante has always been a restless one. It doesn’t take long for him to cut a trail of hot, opened mouth kisses down the length of your body until he’s at level with your dripping pussy. A dreamy sounding sigh of “So pretty~” is all the warning you get before he’s diving in like a man starved.

You shudder at the feeling of his tongue dragging itself over your already sodden flesh, Dick’s name a ragged cry on your lips as your fingers curl in against his hair. He likewise shivers at the bite of your nails against his scalp, humming his approval all the while before pulling away just long enough to tell you—promise you—that he’s going to make you lose your mind. And he’s as good as his word. He doesn’t let up, his tongue laving and twirling against you in shifting patterns that leave your head spinning and your legs shaking. His hands are just as busy as one keeps your hip anchored while its opposite works in tandem with his talented mouth.

“You sound so. Fucking. Cute.” The declaration is made some long moments later when his need for oxygen finally outweighs his greed for your cunt. His voice is absolutely wrecked with his desire, though you can barely focus on the rasp of it when he’s punctuating those last few words with suckling nips against your thighs.

You whimper out his name in reply only for the appellation to scale up into an opened mouth gasp when he takes advantage of the mess he’s created between your legs to easily slip a finger into your tight hole. A second soon follows the first before he purposefully curls them against that spot. You jolt up against him as pleasure skitters across your body like lightning. Moans claw their way out of your throat as you grind shamelessly up into him, your arms winding around him somewhat awkwardly in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer.

“Mmm~ I think she likes that,” he chuckles darkly as he continues to massage your walls. “That’s right honey, keep rocking those hips for me—need to work you open, get you ready to take me…”

You’re too far gone to fully comprehend what he’s saying, with your mind only really being able to focus on the sinuous purr of it all. Lust has deepened his voice into something specifically designed to leave you fully under his spell, and enthralled as you are there’s no perceiving anything outside of you and him and the pleasure that’s drawing closer with each pump of those ridiculously long fingers. You rut against him with a desperation that would be embarrassing if Dick wasn’t just as gone. He doesn’t have it in him to tease you right now, not when he feeds on your pleasure and you’re so close to the edge. He murmurs your name before pulling away from you to watch you chase your bliss with a ravenous intent. His gaze darts over the length of you in an attempt to drink in every little detail as words that blur the line between praise and pleas are panted down at you. His movements grow more pointed as yours become more frantic, the crescendo building up-up-up until–

“Oh fuck babe. That’s right—give it to me.”

A sound that’s caught somewhere between a moan and a sob squeaks out of you as your body tenses before going lax under the weight of your release, but that’s hardly the end of things.

“Fuck,” Dick growls lowly, his body slinking down further still so that he can hook your legs over his shoulders. When he comes back up to level his eyes are consumed with want as he grinds himself against you. “____, baby, do you have any idea how goddamn delicious you look right now?”

You try to reply, you swear you do, but between the orgasmic haze that hasn’t even begun to fade and the feeling of his cock pressing hot and heavy against you, well… You figure you can be forgiven for whatever the fuck it is that actually comes out of your mouth—not that it would’ve been audible anyway when your man’s tongue is so tangled up with your own. He sucks down your mewls of pleasure only to feed you his own as he reaches down to take himself in hand. His cock, hot and sticky with your combined arousal, slaps against your pussy a few times in rapid succession before he pushes finally, finally pushes into you.

Dick finds his rhythm quickly, settling on something hard and fast enough to have jostled your body forwards with each thrust had his bulk not been there to hold you steady. There’s a certain frantic energy to the way he fucks you—as if he needs to be inside you like he needs his next breath, as if the few seconds he has to leave you on the backstroke are too long to bear. It makes the encounter desperate in a way that that you usually only ever experience when he’s had too close of a call on patrol. You feed off of this, into it, clawing at whatever bit of him you can reach though pinned as you are all you can really do is lie there and take it–

Well until a particularly good downwards thrust leaves his dick brushing up against your sweet spot. Your reaction is instantaneous, your walls clamping down on him with a vice-like grip that nearly sees him collapsing. His mouth parts around a moan that has you clenching up all over again as he catches himself on shaky arms just moments shy of crushing you.

“Fu-fuck… Fuck! That’s– It’s too damn good, babe. I-I’m already so close—you keep doing that and I’m not gonna last…”

There’s barely a sliver of sapphire to be found when he looks you over with wide, lust-blown eyes; said eyes cross just a bit when you bare down again, and when combined with the flush that sits high on his cheeks and the loose loll of his mouth he’s just one drool trail away from something straight out of the most obscene manga panels. The sight would’ve left you laughing if it weren’t for the way he rolls his hips into you in a deep grind.

You sigh his name as you urge him closer to you. From here you can feel the way his lips part under his pants, your breaths mingling as you tell him, beg him, to fall apart for you—“Please baby, want it. Want you to fill me up…”

“Yuh-yeah,” he starts, nodding wildly. “Yeah, I can do tha– Ah, shit! So fuckin’ tight… God, fuck—kiss me.”

He doesn’t give you time to comply, his lips already moving to crash into yours within the same breath. The kiss is sloppy and short lived, however, with Dick pulling away a few moments later to moan out your name as he redoubles his efforts. His strokes come fast and choppy as they lose their rhythm with each passing stroke until he’s abruptly stilling over your with a punched out sounding sigh and a shiver. The feeling of his release pouring into you is enough to push you over the cliff after him, his name on your lips as you give yourself over to ecstasy’s free fall.

The pair of your work your way through your orgasms with heaving chests, and in your case limbs that feel like jelly. As the euphoria begins to fade the mood easily slips over into something softer and more subdued. Dick, clearly still lost to his pleasure noses at your cheeks, pillow soft lips pressing sweet, lovesick nothings into the flushed skin there in between peppered kisses. The heart achingly tender display leaves your chest squeezing in the best of ways, and while you’d love nothing more than to bask in the afterglow of his affections for a long while yet your current positioning isn’t exactly the ideal setup in which to do so.

Your displeased little whine is all the hint your man needs and within the same moment your legs are being gently lowered onto the mattress. He flops onto his back right after, arching into a dramatic bow of a stretch—the sound that escapes him as he does so certainly makes you Feel Things, but you’re not trying to start something your already fucked out body most definitely cannot finish—before moving to curl himself around you. Insistent hands work to soothe away any aches you feel, starting with your hips, though he soon decides this can best be achieved by cradling you against his chest. Having been put through your paces you’re essentially dead weight, but that’s never been a hindrance before. Just one of the many perks of dating a man that moonlights as a vigilante, you muse with a silent laugh as he moves and settles you with ease.

You sigh contentedly as you allow yourself to sink more fully into his warmth, with any lingering tension that your muscles insist on trying to hold on to melting away under his care. Sleep has already started to blur the edges of your world, with the haze steadily creeping in to dull all of your senses until you fade out in full. You don’t register the slight shifting of your body or the soft glide of sheets that follows. The feeling of Dick pressing one last, lingering kiss against your temple is likewise a distant sensation, though his words are just able to slip underneath the fog–

“I love you, baby—always.”

–and that five word declaration, spoken with all the gravity of an indisputable truth, is the last thing you hear before you give yourself over the land of dreams.

© notepadsandtealeaves/TheViperQueen, 2023 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#so i'm back. kinda lol.#dk when i'll update next but at least i'm writing again #anyways...#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x f!reader #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson smut #((Immy does fan fiction: the Batboys))

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jasntodds · 2 years ago

Text

Caving In [4]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,625

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a nightmare, fluff, hurt/comfort, some paranoia, mention of torture, mention of abuse, Dick tries to kind of have “the talk”, Jason and reader argue (we all know sometimes Jason is an asshole, this is the only time this kind of argument happens btw), mentions of bruising and swelling, a mention of drug addiction, mentions of death

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: I’m really excited to post chapter 7 just so you guys know lol This feels kind of like a filler but this is the only one that feels like it I think?? I might try to post chapter 5 this weekend because of that lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 The first few chapters take place between season 2 episode 1 and season 2 episode 2. You can add yourself the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

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Nightmares are a funny thing. They’re rarely anything realistic once you’re able to be calm enough to think about them. But they always contain some type of fear or traumatic event someone has experienced. Sometimes, it’s not rational or there is some deep hidden meaning behind the nightmare but other times, it’s just from trauma left unhandled. Those nightmares are the worst.

They make you revise the worst times of your life over and over and over like a broken record. No matter what you do, you lose in the nightmare. Years later, you might be happy and healthy but the nightmare comes back and you feel like you’re right back where you were. Trapped in the never-ending agony. Trapped inside a tilt-a-whirl made of panic attacks and broken hearts. And every single night, it’s a living hell.

And that’s where you are now, living your own personal hell with screaming so loud your throat is raw and ragged breaths beg your chest to finally cave in. The flashes of your “foster dad” scar the back of your eyes with every blink, like Freddy Krueger clawing his way to the surface. You might have escaped him physically, but mentally you’re trapped like a bear at a circus. Your hands shake as tears well behind your eyes and as the panic rages through your veins, the anger sets in. And you’re so mad that you’re allowing this piece of shit to haunt you even in your sleep, somewhere you might just feel safe. How are you ever supposed to be safe from him if you can’t even sleep? What if he finds you? What if, somehow, your nightmares are just a sign he’s coming after you? What are you supposed to do then? What if he has powers and that’s why he’s coming to finish you off?

A million what-ifs scramble through your brain as you sit in your bed, the bedside lamp still on. You get out of bed and it’s not even like you’re walking. With every worst-case scenario running through your head at once, you’re just moving through motions to exit your room. You need to make sure he isn’t here, need to make sure everyone here is safe from him, that you’re safe from him.

Your hands go up, right in front of you, slightly outstretched as if waiting for you to run into him. The palms of your hands glow green, ready for any type of attack you might come across in the secure tower while you tiptoe your way out of your room.

“Y/n?” A groggy voice from the right pulls your attention as you were just about to walk down the hallways. You jump and spin quickly, the glow of your hands intensifying in the dim light of the hallway. “It’s me.” Gar defends quickly, putting his hands up. “Gar?” His voice is still groggy but full of fear as he glances between your hands and your face.

You could see him with the dim lights of the hallway and the green glow of your hands but it still didn’t click, not until he said his name. You aren’t sure where your head was but a part of you is scared because of it. You were so lost in a state of fear and urgency to make sure everything was safe, you were blinded. It’s a bit terrifying.

You lets out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, dropping your hands as the green fades. “Fuck, what’re you doing?” You whisper-yell at him.

Gar takes a few steps towards you. “You were screaming.” He whispers back to you. “I heard you so I came to see if you were okay.”

The walls aren’t thin but Gar is pretty sure your scream could have woken up anyone. It was loud and pained, etched in terror. But, that’s a thing that happens here from time-to-time. Everyone has a habit of occasionally waking up screaming. It’s either childhood trauma haunting them or new trauma from Trigon. Gar figures that’s why no one else got up. They’re conditioned to be used to it.

You watch him carefully as the panic starts to cloud with feelings of regret and guilt. You didn’t realize you had screamed loud enough to wake anyone up. That’s not fair to anyone, to be woken by someone who can’t handle their own shit. And then to be standing out in the middle of a hallway at the crack of dawn with sleep still in their eyes talking about it. You look to the floor, shifting your weight on your feet and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Are you….okay?” Gar asks, coming a little closer.

When you fell asleep on him earlier, you looked peaceful. Normally, you kind of always have this look of fear. Your eyes always seem a little distant and you look behind whoever you’re talking to a lot. You don’t make eye contact for longer than a few seconds. But while you slept, you looked at ease and peaceful and calm, like you didn’t need to look over your shoulder anymore but then you shot up out of nowhere. Gar knew it had to have been a nightmare. He reacts the same way when he has one, maybe everyone does but he knows the signs. Wide eyes, ragged breathing, distant but sleep-filled eyes. And now, you’re awake again from a nightmare and it doesn’t sit right with the kind boy with green hair.

You nod. “Y-yeah.” You offer a fake smile. “You, uh, you can go back to bed.”

“Are you going to go back to bed?” Gar asks with a pointed look and he doesn’t want you to be alone. The shadows are a bit more haunting when you’re alone.

“Uh….I mean….eventually.” You answer softly, dropping your head slightly.

“I can stay with you until you fall asleep if you want.” Gar shrugs his shoulders, putting his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants.

You raise a brow at him, not looking pleased with the idea. You don’t want to inconvenience him or seem weak. You’re in a tower full of heroes and you can’t even sleep through the night. The last thing you want is for any of them to see you as the weak link. What happens if you can’t pull it together? Will they just drop you because you’re not strong enough?

“It-it’s okay.” You don’t smile this time, you just keep chewing your lip, pulling your sleeves over your hands, something Gar has been noticing you do.

“What were you doing out here?” Gar asks, his voice kind and not accusing but you shake your head, knowing it sounds ridiculous. “I won’t tell anyone.” He offers and there’s this sweet but subtle smile pulling at his lips.

Jason, a few hours ago, told you to talk to him. He said maybe it would help and the only way he’d know that, is if Gar knows Jason’s baggage, too. Jason doesn’t seem the type to wave the white flag and spill all of his secrets. Maybe Gar just cares about everyone and maybe it will help.

You sigh and cave. “I-I-I was….was just making sure….uh….he wasn’t….here.” You stutter but eventually get everything out and a part of Gar’s heart breaks at hearing it.

You aren’t looking at him, a sense of shame consuming you and Gar is not about to have you feeling bad for worrying that the person who tortured you is seeking you out in the one place you feel safe. It’s not fair and it’s not right. Gar knows whatever you went through was horrible but the fact you’re so worried that the person is in the tower? It’s unfathomable.

Gar starts walking past you, stopping a few steps ahead of you and offering you his hand. “We’ll look together.”

You look at his hand and then up at him with his words and you can feel your nose getting warm while your eyes burn. Your entire face softens and there’s something about the offer that makes you feel like everything in you is being warmed by a fireplace, warmed by a place one can only describe as home. He didn’t think you were crazy or that it was ridiculous or stupid. He just…offered to help.

So, you put your hand in his, following him through the tower.

As you walk, you hold his hand tightly noticing the soft callouses. His grip is tight but in a comforting type of way and he glances at you every few seconds as if making sure you’re okay. You walk from room to room, turning on the lights and verifying there isn’t anyone around before you end up in the comms room with the supercomputer. Gar takes a seat and shows you that everything is still secure and there hasn’t been a break-in. Everyone still needs their fingerprints to get in and the front door is done by facial recognition. According to the logs, no one has been in or out of the tower since nine the night before.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, standing to the side of Gar with arms crossed and eyes on the large screen in front of you. “I know this was stupid.”

Gar spins in the chair to face you but your eyes don’t move. “It’s okay, ya know? You’re scared and this is a new place. It’s not stupid.”

“It feels like it though, I-i-i….I see him anytime I close my eyes.” Your voice is so small.

You think maybe you should take Jason’s advice fully. Gar is awake with you anyway and you woke him up. He could have gone back to bed but he walked with you instead, knowing full well there wasn’t an intruder in the tower. It’s like you owe him some type of explanation.

“Foster dad.” You clarify. “He’s originally from Gotham, too, ya know? So him being a complete psychopath kind of tracks.” There’s a sharp bitterness in your voice but you keep your stare off of Gar, afraid that if you can see the look on his face you know he’s giving you, you’ll just shut down and go to bed.

“He just…did that to you?” Gar asks with furrowed brows and pain in his voice.

“Yep, he wanted powers. Some weird thing against Batman and Robin so he used me because ya know, the system doesn’t actually give a fuck about most foster kids.” You grit your teeth, your fists balling in your arms. “Then thought I was concealing my powers from him because he was certain his experiments were working so he’d try to literally beat them out of me.” You shrug a shoulder. “Guess he was right.”

Gar pauses, piecing it together. He was sure you would have tried to use your powers, but you didn’t? “Wait so….you never used your powers around him and—“

“Let him beat me until he thought I was dead?” You ask, just glancing at Gar long enough to see him nod. “Yep. If he knew it worked, he’d have killed me anyway. Letting him think he failed was…” You tilt your head side to side slightly. “Vindicating in a way. I, uh, I know it sounds so stupid but I was desperate to try and get out. Desperate people do stupid things."

“I’m so sorry that happened.” Gar’s eyes are glued to you, hating the idea of living through that.

He was tortured before and it haunts him every single day. He wasn’t even tortured for very long and it’s still hell. You were tortured for a lot longer. He gets your hesitance and your paranoia. He’d be paranoid, too if he were you.

“Yeah….” You sigh. “So, I might have escaped physically but the piece of shit really isn’t leaving my dreams alone, I guess.”

Gar sits on it for a few seconds. While he was kind of this weird experiment in a way, Dr. Caulder knew it would work and it would save him. He never had to fear for his life around him. He feared speaking up and being himself because sometimes the doctor wasn’t very nice. He didn’t really like other people being their own people, not if it contradicted what he believed or wanted. So, he can’t even fathom want horrors haunt your mind even in safety.

“I can check the tower for you every night if you want.” Gar offers. You jerk your head in his direction, surprise etched across every crease of your face. “And uh, if you have a nightmare, you can wake me up. I leave my door unlocked anyway…if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Y-y-you’d do that?”

Gar gains a sheepish smile as he shrugs. “Yeah, of course.”

You will never tell Jason, but maybe he was right about telling Gar. You feel a little better about it and he’s so nice. He’s offering to lose sleep when you have a nightmare which could be every night. You wonder how he’s chosen to be so kind despite whatever he’s been through.

“Thank you.” You look to the ground and then finally look at Gar. “Can you not tell anyone? Please?”

He chuckles softly. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks, it means a lot.” You suck in a breath. “Well, now that I know my delusions are just delusions, I’m gonna try and get some more sleep.” You give him a genuine smile this time.

“I’ll be up if you need anything.” Gar says, turning back to the computer to exit out of the security system.

“I’m so sorry.” You apologize again. “I didn’t mean to keep you from sleeping or anything.”

“It’s okay.” Gar assures you. “I should be getting up early anyway.”

“Okay.” You nod, offering him a closed and small smile.

It’s six now so Gar’s alarm would be going off in an hour anyway. But, you’re still going to go to bed. He didn’t hear you go to bed the night before and it was pretty late when you woke up from the first nightmare.

“What, uh what time did you go to bed anyway?”

“Uh….” You squint an eye, trying to remember the last time you looked at your phone. “Four? I think?”

“Wow, okay.” Gar’s brows raise quickly as he chuckles softly.

“I-I got talking with Jason last night so…” Your words fall off. “Couldn’t sleep and I ran into him.”

Gar nods slowly, ignoring the tint of a burn in his chest. You talked to Jason but not him? He’s been so nice to you and he feels like you trust him. All you do with Jason is this weird banter thing that Gar is slowly realizing maybe it’s flirting. Not that he’s actively trying to pursue anything because that doesn’t feel right either. But something about you talking to Jason, hurts. He’s always deemed himself a trustworthy person who’s a pretty good listener but you went to probably the worst listener on the face of the planet. He doesn’t really get it and he knows he has not right to assume you would tell him anything. Above everything else, he’s just surprised you got talking to Jason.

“What’d ya talk about?” Gar plays it cool, not digging but just asking.

“Uh….nothing really, I guess.” You lie and it’s at that moment you realize you lie a lot. Not that you intend to, it just feels like an instinct now either to protect yourself or other people. “I mean…not nothing.” You correct yourself. “Some of what happened in a very unserious manner.”

Gar nods his head again and you might be a little dense but you’re not so dense that you missed the way he stiffed in his chair. “Did it help?” He asked.

“Well, I, uh, I felt better after but then I had a nightmare so….not sure how much talking about it really helped.” You scoff as you roll your shoulders.

“Is it because it was unserious?” Gar asks, quoting your direct word.

You shake your head. “Nah, always been better with unserious ways of talking about trauma. When it gets too….emotional I don’t….” You look to the floor, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “I don’t like it very much, like it less than I usually do, I suppose.”

“You can talk to me.” Gar offers, looking back over to you.

“I know.” You smile at him softly, it’s almost a smirk that forms. “Can you get a little snarky and nasty about it?”

“Would it help?” Gar chuckles, his position loosening with the question and the burning sensation in his chest starting to dissipate.

“Yeah, you can’t give that look you do. With the big eyes and sad expression, makes me feel weird.” You scrunch the left side of your mouth upwards.

Gar laughs softly, putting his hands up. “Okay, I’ll try my best.”

“Thanks.” You look around the room and then back to him. “I do like talking to you and hanging around you. You make me feel comfortable here.” You admit and then realize you’re saying way too much. “Okay well, that’s enough for today. I’m actually going to bed.” You smile at him and it almost feels like you should hug him or something but that also feels like it might just get awkward so you opt for a small wave as if that wasn’t just as awkward.

“Sleep well.” Gar laughs softly, matching the wave with burning cheeks.

You finally get some much-needed rest, without a nightmare. It wasn't a lot of sleep by any means but it was a lot more than you’ve gotten in a long time and for the first time, you actually feel well-rested. You aren't sure if it's because you talked with Gar about what happened a little bit or if it's because you knew he was awake and wouldn't let anyone in your room if they tried. Or that he helped you look around the tower for Jerry like two crazy people. Maybe it's a combination of everything but you feel a lot better.

You find yourself walking into the kitchen once you’re fully awake, still dressed in pajamas. Your thing has always been you shouldn't need to get properly dressed if you aren't actively doing something or going somewhere. Why bother dirtying clothes?

When you walk into the kitchen, Gar and Jason are sat on the barstools while Dick is making some type of shake, Rachel is just coming in from the opposite hall. The boys look a little sweaty, devouring their food like they haven’t eaten in days. You assume they’d just gotten done with a training session and, apparently, were too hungry to shower first.

"Good morning." Dick chimes, bits of sarcasm in his words given it just being past noon.

You pause, glaring at him. "You're one of those aren't you?"

"What?" Dick chuckles, confusion in his face.

"Thinking the early bird gets the worm or whatever." Your voice is flat and you might be well-rested and it might be the afternoon, but you’re not a morning person.

Dick shrugs. "It's true."

"But the mouse gets the cheese, my guy." You give him a thumbs up, moving to the seat between Jason and Gar and sitting down. Gar gives you this gentle smile while Jason has this proud smirk pulling at his lips. "What?" You look at Dick who looks somewhere between amused and contentment.

Dick is looking at you with a sense of ease and accomplishment. He thought you’d be more...closed off longer. This is a new place, you’re traumatized and hurt. But, you seem comfortable, using sarcasm with him that isn’t hurtful and plopping down right between the boys whose expressions did not go unnoticed by Dick. Dick feels like he might be doing something really good here.

"Nothing." Dick's face settles with amusement. "Settling okay?"

"Mhm." You hum.

"Since she doesn't shut the fuck up, I'm sure she's fine." Jason states, his voice trying to sound menacing.

Gar and you look to Jason with annoyance. "You have not shut up for a single second I have been here and this is day three. You had no complaints last night." You look away, Dick looking between the two of you with his cup held to his mouth. He doesn’t even wanna know.

"You were whining, I wanted you to shut up and it worked." Jason mumbles and you let out a laugh. What is his issue?

"I don't whine, I complain. There's a difference." You hold your pointer finger up to correct him and Jason cracks a smile, Gar chuckles into his water bottle.

"Same shit." Jason fires back. "You could stop."

You roll your eyes and that's when the idea sparks. Jason isn’t winning this, this is your game to win. "Hey, Dick, question: What's your rule on dating? Ya know in the tower?"

Jason and Gar both stiffen in their seats, you catching it out of the corner of your eyes and it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing or break the stare you have with Dick. Gar is choking on his water and Jason's cheeks are turning red while Dick is stuck looking at all three of you wondering how the hell he got here. The last thing Dick wants to do is discuss this. Of course, he knew there was a chance of something going on, but he kind of assumed it would just happen. He didn’t think he’d get dragged into it, not like this at least.

"She's screwing with you." Rachel says from the other side of Gar. You give Dick a wide smirk, Gar and Jason looking a little displeased, Jason more than Gar who almost looks disappointed.

"Of course she is." Dick lets out a breath, his expression unamused.

"Sorry, you were a necessary casualty in getting Jason to shut up for a few seconds." You hold an apologetic smile.

Jason flirts a lot and in your experience, if you bring up dating out of the blue, it’ll shut someone like Jason up faster than anything because it’s out of left field. He’s caught off guard and it gets his brain going on if there’s something going on. You think it’s funny, you’ve won this bit.

"Well, since you wanted to bring it up..." Dick starts and all four of you suddenly look like you need seatbelts.

"No, not the talk, please." Gar begs with a groan.

Dick grimaces. "No, of course not. I trust you all know about that." Even if you didn’t, Dick isn’t sure he’d be able to give the talk. He’d call Donna and Dawn. They’re the responsible ones.

"Some of us more than others." Jason quips with a smirk.

"Gross." Rachel mutters.

"Dude." Gar looks past you and at Jason, shaking his head at Jason.

"Anyway, uh..." Dick fumbles for words, realizing he never had any intention of this conversation which was his fault given the Titans past of relationship in the tower. "Just make sure everyone is consenting and be safe?"

"You sound so uncertain about that." You raise a brow as your words are slow.

"I don't know how to have this conversation." Dick defends.

"We don't have to." Gar is grimacing in his seat. "We know, safety and consent, got it." It’s not that Gar is a prude, it’s just awkward and he’s not much of a fan of awkward conversations. If it were just him and Dick, it wouldn’t be awkward, but it's everyone.

"Don't bring drama into the training room or while we're out."

"Obviously." Rachel says, already tired of the conversation.

"That won't be a problem." Jason mutters.

You rolls your eyes at him before looking back to Dick. "You're doing great, bud." You give Dick a thumbs up.

"That's it. I don't care, don't do anything.....graphic..."

"God." Gar groans, making you laugh. But, everyone has gathered this look of disgust on their faces with Dick’s choice of words. "Please, stop talking." Gar pleads.

"In a public area of the tower." Dick continues.

All of your faces contort into a grimace, even Jason’s. That is such an odd and specific request. You did not think this is where that joke would go. You didn’t think it’d go anywhere, let alone here.

"I feel like there's a very specific reason you said that and I don't wanna know." You laugh. "I'm sorry, I didn't think he'd decide to have this conversation." You apologize to the room.

"And what did you learn today?" Dick asks, not too happy about feeling like he had to have the talk with the new Titans.

"You want me today something like pick my words more carefully next time but...I think I just learned not bring up interpersonal relations with you in front of other people." You scrunch your nose.

Dick lets out a sigh. "Well, are we clear then?"

"YES." Gar yells, dramatically. "Can we stop now? This is awkward."

"Come on, Gar. Surely this isn't new territory for you." You kick Jason under the counter. "Ow! What the fuck?"

"Shut the fuck up." You snip at him.

"Yeah? And What are you gonna do about it?" Jason looks you up and down.

You narrow your eyes and for a second you think about what you could do. You could give him a burn, something equivalent to a rug burn. But, that’s not right and you’d never actually try to hurt him, not like this. And you can’t punch him because that also seems a bit extreme. He’d probably see it coming anyway, block you, then hit you back.

"That's what I thought." Jason scoffs with a look of pride as he’s won.

You shove him with your hand, Jason falling off of his chair. He hits the floor with a thud, looking at up at you with a twisted face filled of anger and shock. For someone who can't fight and who's injured, you’re ballsy. Jason could fight you right now and you'd basically be defenseless but Jason wouldn't do that. He knows where the lines are when it comes to physical contact and he doesn't cross them. He crosses a lot of lines, but fighting people who can't fight back isn't one of those. So, he's even more pissed about it.

Jason gets back to his feet, closing the distance between him and you. "What the fuck is your problem, huh?" Jason yells in your face, Gar adjusting in his seat, ready to get up at any point and Dick is ready to step in if he needs to.

"You are, apparently. Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole? For no reason? Aren't you friends?"

"He doesn't need you to come to his fucking defense. I was fucking joking." Jason snarls, looking just past you at Gar before looking back at you.

"Right." You mutter. "Except it's obvious the whole conversation has made him uncomfortable so why don't you go cool the fuck off. You obviously need to." You sit straight in your seat, your face close to Jason's and you’re not backing down.

"You shoved me!" Jason flings his arm out in frustration.

"You asked me what I was gonna do about it! So I showed you!" You bark at him. "What are you gonna do about it?"

A dry laugh escapes Jason's throat and he doesn't want to actually fight you, but you’re making it a little tempting right about now. "Is that all you fucking have?" He taunts you instead.

"Wanna test me?" You open your palms, holding them just in front of your shoulders as they glow. Jason looks at the green and he doesn't get how people with powers are so willing to use them. He doesn't need powers. He's got his fists and those are plenty.

"Because you're just another freak, right?"

Gar gets off his seat at that comment, pushing Jason slightly and standing in between you and Jason. "Dude, go calm down. It's not that serious." Gar keeps his voice level, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You a team now, huh?" Jason looks in between you.

"Jason, come on. Cool off for a few minutes." Dick keeps his stance, choosing not to crowd the already heated area.

"Fuck you guys!" Jason yells, pushing past Gar and heading down the right hallway.

Gar sits down again and Dick's position relaxes with Jason out of the room. Gar's just surprised it went as far as it did but it's also Jason. He has buttons and pushing them sometimes leads to blow-ups. Jason is still his friend but sometimes, he really does not make it easy and this is one of those times. He doesn't understand why Rachel and now you are freaks but somehow Gar is never a freak. He has powers, too and as far as he's concerned, turning into a tiger is far more freakish than whatever you have going on. And he always acts like it's your fault, somehow. Rachel was just born like that, no one gets to pick their biological parents. And Gar and you were injected. How is that right? It hurts a little because Gar knows that if they weren't friends, he'd be the target one of Jason's freak rants.

"Is that what everyone meant by I'd get used to Jason?" You ask the room.

"Yeah." Gar answers and Dick nods. "He does that sometimes."

"Interesting." You hum quietly, your hands shaking slightly, Gar taking notice.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking between your hands and your eyes.

"Oh..." You quickly move your hands under the countertop and tug your sleeves down. "I'm, uh I'm fine." You fake a smile at him.

It's not that you really thought Jason might hit you, him hitting you over a shove didn’t even cross your mind. You don't really know if he's the type that gets mad and hits people, you don't really know him at all. But, you'd think that would have been a warning from someone if that were the case. It was more that you don't like getting yelled at apparently. It wasn’t an issue before Jerry but, now it seems to be another trigger.

"He wouldn't have hurt you." Dick assures you, as if reading your mind.

"Jason doesn't hit people here when he gets mad, just yells a lot." Gar assures you, following Dick's lead.

"I didn't think he'd hit me." You tell them with ease. "Got that throbbing thing in the back of my head when someone's going to." You remind them. "And I just...I'm not scared of him. Guess I just don't like being yelled at when someone is in my face." You look to the counter. "I'm fine, honest."

"Are you sure?" Gar asks.

"Yeah." You give him a soft smile. "Thanks though. I'm gonna eat." You get down and find a bowl in a cabinet, moving around Dick.

"Okay, I'm gonna go check on Jason then, make sure he's cooling down." Dick gives Gar a look and a nod toward you. Gar nods in response while Dick leaves to find Jason.

You make your cereal while Gar watches you. Your hands are still shaking and he feels bad. It's not his fault that Jason blew up because it's Jason. He blows up at everything but Gar could have defended himself. It's nice that you did. He's never had someone defend him like that but it got you yelled at by Jason and after you had, what Gar assumed to be, a pretty nice conversation the night before. He just worries about you.

"Hey," Gar starts as you take your seat back next to him. "Wanna do something today?" Gar asks.

You furrow your brows at him, before taking a bite of your cereal. "Like what?"

"What'd you wanna do?" Gar shrugs, figuring maybe you should be the one to decide. He just wants to hang out with you.

"Mmmm." You hum and think for a second. "Dye my hair." You chuckle softly.

"That's what you wanna do?" Gar asks.

"Mhm." You hums. "Always wanted to and you have green hair, Rachel's hair is purple." You shrug.

You just want a change. This is a big change, being at the tower but that doesn’t have anything to do with your appearance. You like how you look but you want something different. Your mom never let you dye your hair even though you really wanted to. This place, this place allows you to do that and to change something about yourself. It’s a way to take control of something. The way you see it, with all the bruising and swelling, you don’t look much like yourself anyway. Might as well change the hair, too.

"Okay." Gar beams at you. "We can go get whatever dye you want today and I can help. I'm not sure how much help I'll be but maybe we can get Rachel to help if you want." Gar rambles off and he seems so energetic and happy about it.

"Uh..." You stutter. "Okay, yeah that'd be fun. Thank you." The smile you give him is wide and filled of joy.

"What color?"

You tell him your favorite color, beaming at him. "Always thought that hair was cool." You smirk at him.

"We'll go when you're done eating." Gar gets up from his chair. "I'm gonna shower first."

"Have a blast." You grin to yourself, going back to your cereal. "Meet me in my room after?" You look back to him and he nods with a cheery smile before turning on his feet, and quickly heading down the hallway. "He's so cute." You say to yourself, going back to your cereal.

After Gar's shower, he met with you in your room. You were already dressed and ready to go, you even asked Rachel for help when you got back which Rachel was more than happy to help. Once Gar was ready, he was the one that asked Dick for some money before you left and off you went with Rachel, you feeling more comfortable having both Gar and Rachel with you. You realize how great it is that Rachel was willing to help because you never would have gotten something everything you needed.

When you got back, Gar and you met with Rachel in a bathroom. Rachel got everything together and get to work with your hair. You explained to Rachel that you still wanted some of your natural hair color but the majority of it to be dyed. Rachel understood what you were explaining while Gar seemed a little confused.

As Rachel helped with your hair, the three of you got talking about past lives. You all avoided all talk about trauma and tragic backstories and instead talked about your favorite movies and shows, music. If you'd ever been to a concert, the best places you've ever eaten, random stories about family and friends you had before everything. And while these conversations are going on, there's warmth and comfort that consumes you.

This is the longest you’ve gone without thinking about how your face looks or how your body is sore or Jerry. It's just the three of you and you feel so at home because Gar and Rachel make it so easy. And you wonder if this is what real friendship feels like.

Sure, you had friends before your mom died. But that was then and this is now. You had a small circle of friends but only one that you really relied on and could tell anything to. But then your mom died and it all got so messy and heavy. You couldn't inconvenience even your best friend with your problems over it. Your best friend never really understood the person you started to become after. Vengeful and spiteful and angry. And desperate and cold and detached. It struck like a hurricane right through your friendship.

You couldn't handle anything and you were always running from CPS. What kind of friend would you be if you endangered your best friend's mom by getting in trouble with CPS? You knew it was only a matter of time before they threatened to take your best friend away if they didn't give you up. At least, that's how you always saw it. It was always such a big fear and you couldn't put them through that, on the chance it did happen so you just left one day and never came back. But you weren't a very good friend then either.

You had all these plans of hunting down the Joker and even though you'd probably die, too, hunting him down would have made it worth it to you. To look him in the eyes and just try to hit him or shoot him, if you had a gun anyway. You knew you would never make it out alive and that was something you deemed to be okay because you didn't have anything worth living for anymore. Your dad went off to choose drugs over you, your mom died, your best friend not knowing how to handle anything. A suicide mission seemed like a pretty sweet deal at the time. But, now you’re here with Gar and Rachel, in this bathroom getting the hair you’ve wanted to try and maybe you have more worth living for.

"Okay, what do you think?" Rachel asks, shutting the blow-dryer off, proud of the dye job she's done.

You look in the mirror and your face lights up. Stripes of the color consume the majority of your head and you could not be happier in this moment. "I love it!" You squeal before turning around. "Thank you!" You hug Rachel quickly before turning back around and there's a sweet and amused smile on Gar's face.

"It looks really good on you." Gar's smile turns shy as you look to him.

"Y-you think so?" You asks, your stomach swirling with his words.

Gar nods. "Yeah, I like the color." Gar’s smile is the softest thing in the world.

"How cute." Rachel giggles before cutting it short as Gar looks at her with wide eyes. "It looks good, yeah." Rachel agrees.

"Thank you." You look at yourself again and you’ve never had this hair before, but it makes you feel more like yourself. It's probably the self-expression it's allowing you to have but you really like it. "And hey, now people will have something else to look at that's not my face." You laugh softly.

"You're face looks good, too." Gar says so quickly, you and Rachel barely catch it, but you do and you both look at him with raised brows. Rachel looks in between you and Gar, waiting for something to happen. This is the most entertainment she's had since they got to San Francisco. "I mean..." Gar stutters. "The, uh, the bruises and stuff, they're healing."

"Mhm." You hum with burning cheeks. "Thank you, Gar."

Gar feels the embarrassment wanting to eat him alive. He can't believe he said that out loud. Now Rachel is looking at him with knowing eyes and he can't help it. Sometimes, things just come out and then he feels like he has to backtrack and now he's embarrassed even though you didn't seem bothered by it. Which then makes him think he didn't need to add in the last comment about the bruises. Surely, you know he didn't mean just the bruises are looking fine now and the meant your whole face but now he doesn't know and he has got to get his brain to shut up for five seconds.

"There you are." Dick says, looking into the bathroom, the door wide open.

"Yes?" Rachel asks.

"Training room." Dick says.

Gar checks the time on his phone, seeing they were in fact late for their last training session. Shopping with you took a little longer than expected since you stopped for food and were having fun together. Then dying your hair took a while but Dick doesn't seem mad about it.

The three of you follow Dick to the training room where Jason is already waiting, as if he hadn't left the room since this morning. You sit on a bench and watch as you’re not allowed to train yet. Dick mostly supervises after giving them some instructions on what to do and then gives pointers. You mostly watch Gar and Jason.

It's interesting watching them. Jason is clearly the aggressor. You can't tell if it's all his pent-up aggression or if it's just his experience as Robin that makes him the aggressor but you find it interesting nonetheless. Gar and Rachel seem to work together to go against Jason even though they're all supposed to be working against each other. Gar works more on a defensive tactic, going for Jason after Jason comes for him or while Rachel has him distracted and that's when Gar gets a hit it. They're being trained by the same person but they fight differently and it seems to match their personalities.

Dick walks over to you as the other three continue to spar. "Like the new hair." Dick compliments you.

"Thanks, Rachel did it for me." You beam up at him.

"Feeling more comfortable?"

"Yeah..." You sigh. "I give you shit 'cause it's fun but I think I'm gonna like it here. Thank you again for taking me in." You say candidly. You make a mental note to thank him regularly for it.

It warms Dick's heart to know his efforts mean something. He just wants to be the mentor he wishes Bruce was and he just wants to help. It seems to be working, with you and Rachel and Gar, jury is still out on Jason. But Dick knows Jason will not be an overnight success.

"Good, I'm glad." Dick offers you a smile before walking back to where he previously was.

The rest of the training session goes by, Gar and Rachel going to you when they had a water break and talking. Jason opted to be by himself, Gar noticing the concern on your face and assuring you that he'll be calm and be over it the next day. But it doesn't quite sit right for you. You don't want him mad at you, you do like to mess with him in a fun banter way, not him being pissed at you.

You like to push people's buttons but you’re not too fond of people being actively mad at you. If there's a line you aren't supposed to cross, all someone has to do is tell you and you'll respect the line. You aren't about making people unnecessarily uncomfortable or mad. But you nod along with Gar anyway and eventually training ends. You stay behind with Jason, Gar hovers a little more than he would given the events of the afternoon but he does eventually leave the two of you alone.

"So, you gonna stay mad at me forever?" You ask as you walk over to Jason who's seated on a bench, getting a drink and ignoring you. "Come on," You groan. "Can you not handle a shove from me?"

Jason glares up at you. "Just shut up." He groans.

"Nope." You sit next to him, your leg touching his. "I'm sorry I shoved you." Jason's brows furrow at you and he doesn't think anyone has apologized to him since he's been here, for anything. "Honest, I should have left it alone but I provoked you further than I should have." You are sorry for it. Sure, Jason owes you an apology, too but you can apologize first.

"Sorry for what I said." Jason mumbles, swallowing his pride.

He never wants to hurt someone's feelings, not really. In the moment, absolutely but then after he feels horrible about it. He hates when other people make him feel weak. You shoving him from his seat, it made him feel weak and he hates it. It’s how he’s felt his entire life. Weak. So, when he feels weak or when someone pushes the wrong bottom, he just starts talking and going off. It just flows out of his mouth before he can even think about it. It's not an excuse, he just can't help it and he is sorry.

"To you and Gar." Jason lets out a sigh.

The corner of your smile pulls up. "I forgive you."

Jason glances at you and he can’t stay mad at you. Normally, he’s very good at holding grudges. He still has a grudge against a kid who pushed him down a slide when he was seven. He’s very good at holding grudges but you’ve got this smirk that says you’re up to no good and this look in your eyes that sends this electricity through his blood. He can’t explain it but he can’t stay mad at you.

"Did you still wanna train tonight when everyone goes to bed?" Jason turns his head towards you, twitching his brows up and the grin starts pull at his lips.

"If you're still willing."

"Someone's gotta show you how to do more than fucking shove someone." Jason scoffs but a smile pulls at his lips as he chuckles softly.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, got powers now and never had issues on the streets, okay? People happen to like my quick wit and quips.” You lightly nudge him with your shoulder.

"Yeah," Jason chortles. "That's why no one fucked with you.” Jason nods his head and lightly nudges you back, not believing you.

"I'd like to think so, yes.” You hold your head up with pride and Jason has this genuinely kind smile on his face. “What time, boss?”

Jason shakes his head. “Midnight. Everyone is usually in their rooms or asleep.”

“Okay, I'll meet you here then." You smirk at him as you get up and lick your lips. He knows deep down he doesn't have a shot with you but his stomach burns with the thought of you. You get under his skin like no one else and he hates to admit it but he really likes it.

"Don't be late." Jason quips, his voice taunting.

You shake your head, turning around to face him again. “Shut the fuck up.” You laugh softly. “I’ll meet you here at midnight, on the dot.” You widen your eyes, mocking him before exiting the room.

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#gar logan #jason todd #gar logan x reader #garfield logan x reader #jason todd x reader #gar logan fanfic #gar logan fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #caving in

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bleedingcoffee42 · 4 months ago

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I had to bury you- WIP

A while ago I responded to a comment on my own smut fic with this bullshit ---> "We were married the whole time" Winnix Angst where one of them disappears during/after the war for years and comes back and finds out the other one is re-married. The betrayal of seeing someone else's wedding ring on their finger. The 'i thought you'd wait for me', the ' we were forever' just internalized with a ' i wanted you to move on and be happy' that comes out of their mouth. 'I had to bury you and it almost buried me' in a tearful excuse for why they have to not run into their arms and thank God they are back, because God just twisted the dagger in their heart and shattered their world again.

And I immediately opened Docs and wrote down whatever came to mind. I'm never going to make anything of it so I'm just going to say it's a writing exercise and just leave it here.

A)It could not have been more perfect, to be reunited in Paris. Seeing him again, seeing Lewis Nixon walk out of a hotel and thinking it was a mirage; convinced he was seeing things because there was no way after five years that they could be in the same place by accident. After five years of fighting to find a way to get home to him, he was here and looking straight at him like he saw a ghost. Dick was still in ragged fatigues from a war that had been over for too long, he was certain he looked like he was a ghost so he waited for Lew to approach him. And as Lew put his hand over his mouth to muffle whatever cry had to be aching to leave his throat, Dick saw the light catch a ring. A gold ring. Theirs had been silver. And in that moment Dick felt his heart collapse in on itself because he knew it was too late. Lew moved on, because of course he did. He was never good at being alone, he always needed someone. It took everything to not turn around and disappear into the crowd as a single tear slipped from his eye.

B)The farmhouse was just about what he pictured it would be, simple but well taken care of. Even the fence around the front yard was without a speck of peeling paint and there was a flag flying on the pole, fluttering in the wind like a picture perfect American Dream. A milk cow mooed at him and Lew smiled, because it was the perfect way to open a conversation he didn’t know how to have, with a joke about Dick Winter’s being Amish. He walked up the steps to the wrap around porch and knocked on the screen door, hat in hand. Years, years he had struggled to stay alive, and care about staying alive, so he could have this moment: The homecoming. So when the door opened and Dick’s face appeared, his expression going from ‘I don’t want your religion I have my own’ to ‘that’s impossible’ to ‘I’m seeing a ghost’ to…

“Honey, who is it?” from a very feminine voice as two red headed toddlers and a golden retriever appeared at Dick’s feet, Lewis Nixon wondered if this was what it was like to climb the stairway to heaven only to be rejected at the gate and thrown into hell.

C) The one where the do make it to the Pacific from the ETO--

“There was nothing left.” Lew choked out as he fumbled with his cigarettes and his hand shook. “Not even dog tags, just a crater where you two….”

Dick held his breath as Lew felt apart in front of him, and to his absolute amazement Lip pulled him into an embrace and muttered all kinds of things as sobs wrecked Lew’s body. He was caught in that moment, unable to breathe, unable to think , unable to process the tenderness and familiarity of it. Thankfully Ron Speirs wasn’t frozen in place, never was.

“What the fuck?” Ron spat. “You two are thing?”

“We buried you.” Lip explained. “Or what we thought was left of you. You have no idea what it took to keep him out of that hole…to keep going.”

Ron stood up, pushing his chair back loudly and looked at Dick. “Well, that settles that. Ready to go?”

“I’m sorry.” Dick said and stared at them and Ron started to pull him out of the chair and he looked at him knowing he didn’t want to be here when he blew up. Because they had survived, they got left behind, they had watched an explosion the likes of which they never could imagine take out Japan and gave up trying to be rescued. They thought the world ended and just survived. They had each other, so it was only fitting that…. “We….”

“Are leaving.” Ron said and yanked him to his feet before Dick could give some stupid speech about how great it was they had each other. And how Sink had told them Captain Lipton took over Easy and led them out of the PTO when their idiot commanders got blown to hell standing next to each other. How the world didn’t really end, they just dropped an atomic bomb to end the war, but….the world really did end. Dick had to be feeling his hand shake in his fatigues–had to– because his glassy eyes looked to him and said ‘I’m sorry’.

“Glad they had you, Lip.” Dick said and let Ron pull him away, get him out of the room, make some excuse to Sink about digestive upset from having real food, and left the building. Then Ron left him leaning against the side of the building while he destroyed some crates that were being cataloged by a few baby faced privates who knew better than to stand in the way of this pissed off captain. Dick sank down the wall and put his face in his hands and let the weight of it all crush him. He wanted to be happy Lew had Lip, God he was surprised even Carwood Lipton could save him, but he felt like he just lost him all over again. And they had just inflicted the same pain on the people they loved. It was no surprise to him that Lip came looking for them as Ron obliterated some ordinance crates and probably injured himself in the process.

“We’re so glad you’re home.” Lip said and watched a shard of wood go flying. Blood was splattered on the wall of the building, Ron was standing there, hands on hips with blood dripping off hands.

“We don’t need any of your placating bullshit right now, Lip.” Ron snapped. “We fucking gave up and gave you both up, so like Dick said. Glad they had you and we mean it.”

Lip swallowed hard, Ron turned and looked right past him to Dick. So now it was Bastogne all over again, anyone who didn’t experience what they had was now unable and unwelcome to be a part of their circle. He looked down at Dick who really never needed to know how bad Lew got after losing him, and realized that was exactly the situation they were in- Bastogne all over again. It was, however, unacceptable to give up. “Are you staying on base?”

“Yeah.” Ron said and looked at him. Lip as Captain Lipton was perfect. It really made up for all the other bad decisions the army made if someone finally saw what a damned good soldier he was. In reality, he probably got the job because everyone else was dead, but it didn't mean it wasn't deserved and earned. “Probably sign up for the next war.”

“Can you at least try to…”

“No.”

“Then I’ll beg.” Lip said and looked at Dick because Dick Winters knew what it took to save Lewis Nixon. “Please, we’re living with Lew’s Mom and sister. Doris has been going downhill and Blanche isn’t mentally in the best place. Bill Guarnere is visiting, helping me with the reunion.”

Dick looked up at him. Why Carwood Lipton was always asked to hold together a damaged family was a question he wanted to scream at God right now.

Ron huffed. A reunion. Of course Lip would organize a gathering for the company, he'd keep them together and in touch after the war. It had been two years, time to check on everyone. Well, at least they'd have something to talk about.

“I can’t handle watching you both disappear at war again, so please, can we take this conversation home?” Lip could see Dick processing it, Lew was his weakness and the last two years had to be worse knowing how poorly Lew handled loss.

“What conversation? It’s over.” Ron said and it was cold enough to get Dick to snap out of his moment and give him a nasty look.

“Far from it.” Lip said. Ron's moods never bothered him, he just didn't expect him to be protective over Dick Winters. But two years alone together with nobody else, well he was happy they had each other. Hurt, but everything about this was going to hurt. “The house is big enough for two more and our hearts are still missing the pieces of you that we…”

Ron softened as Lip choked up.

“Buried. We didn’t even try to look for you, we just gave up and moved out and…”

Dick got to his feet, to put a hand on Lip’s shoulder. “In combat, you can’t pause to memorialize anyone. You have to keep moving.”

“It’s not over.” Lip said and wiped away tears. “You’re alive and it’s not over. I am begging you both to come home.”

“And now every morning we all wake up to the reality that we all gave up too soon.” Ron said and shook some blood off. “No thanks. Dick, I’m going to the infirmary. Let me know what you decide.”

“I’m coming.” Dick said let go of Lip’s shoulder and attached himself to Ron’s side, where he had been for the last two years.

Xxxx

Every time they looked at each other, it was as if their hearts shattered again. Shrapnel flying and raw feelings of betrayal. Betrayed by the man they loved, betrayed by God, betraying the man they loved. The pain of everything hitting everywhere at once, and they retreated every time. Watching Nix and Dick together, was downright painful.

Now with him and Lip, it was more of a soul being ripped from your core. A heart beating with pride for how he continued on, how he took charge. Fury that he was now bound to someone who took and drained him, even if Lew was generous with his money. If it had been him, he would have doted but yielded when needed. They both had someone to watch over now, someone who had shared something so devastating that it changed who they were. The pain was of what could have been instead of what was lost.

And God, did Lew and Dick lose each other all over again each time they made eye contact. So, it was time to move. Anywhere. Anywhere but here.

“I'm going to take him to see his Mom.”. Ron said and waved away the offer of a smoke. Those ran out long ago, he wasn't sure he could stomach them again. “My parents are waiting for me. Wife already moved on.”

Lip felt that sting, he knew it was about Edwyna but it was also about him. “You know how things are. Tough situations, time works differently.”

“Nix is a tough situation, probably would be dead without you.”

Oh how true that was. “And Dick?”

“Those two got married. Fucking married. That was what bound them and now it's what destroys them.”. Ron crossed his arms. “So, Guarnere and Nix's sister, huh?”

“He makes her laugh and in two years I haven't seen her laugh. The Nixon kids, they have a tempest inside of them that rages and tries to drown them. Bill, well he's pretty happy too. Didn't see it coming.“

“Yeah.”. Ron said, none of them saw any of this coming. “We are leaving in the morning.”

“Come to the reunion. It's next month.”

“No.”

“Ron.”

“No.”

“I can't watch you walk off and disappear again, Ron. I can't.”

Ron saw him shake a little, a crack in the damn holding back everything. And he was holding back the floodwaters for everyone. It wasn't fair, one man shouldn't shoulder the burden for everyone he ever met.

#winnnix #speirton #WIP abandonment #snippet #fic #band of brothers #writing exercise? Or just examples of why I fail interactions? IDK #angst #AU ---Can't forget that tag or else

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bullet-prooflove · 1 month ago

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Kinktober 24: Full - Nick Torres x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @whateversomethingbruh @district447 @lovebookheart @stelacole

Companion piece to:

Where Evil Grew - Nick has to tell you the bad news about your sister.

Grief - Nick tries to be there for you after the discovery of your sister's body.

Falling Apart (NSFW) - Nick turns up on your doorstep when his father disappears for a second time.

Acts of Service - Companion piece to Falling Apart (NSFW) - Nick turns up at your door after you suffer an injury.

What You Like (NSFW) - Nick remembers exactly what you like.

Red Rag - Sawyer finds away to piss off Nick.

Right Place, Right Time - Sequel to Red Rag - You tell Nick the truth about you and Sawyer.

Nick Torres has always been about making your dreams come true, even before the two of you got together. Now that you’re his, he dedicates himself to fulfilling every single one of those filthy fantasies you keep locked up inside that pretty little head of yours, especially the ones you’ve never told anybody else.

“You’re going shy on me.” He teases you one night.

You’re straddling his lap as he sits on sofa, the TV on in the background. His thumb chases over the line of your jaw as he looks up at you the edges of his mouth tipping up into a smile.

“Go on tell me…”

“It’s so filthy Nick.” You whisper, your cheeks colouring. “Like we’ve done some dirty stuff together but this…”

“You know I’d give you anything.” He tells you, his teeth nipping at your lower lip. “Anything you damn well want.”

“Every hole.” You say finally, your forehead coming to rest upon his. “I want to be filled. Not with other people, just with you.”

“I can do that for you.” He murmurs, his mouth claiming yours. “This weekend we’re going to make that fantasy come true.”

On Saturday night, he turns off both of your phones, draws the curtains and shuts out the outside world. He pours you each a glass of wine before he starts his seduction because he want you relaxed, pliant. He takes his time undressing you, working you up until your dripping, desperate, needy and that’s when he brings out the toys.

The leather wrist and ankle restraints, the black butt plug with the glittering blue gem and the vibrator you tell him feels exactly like him when it’s inside you.

“You’re going to come with my cock in your mouth.” He tells you, slipping a pillow under your hips before he lubes up his fingers, using them to trace over your asshole. “But first I’m going to fill these pretty holes of yours.”

When he’s finished with you, you look like the perfect little gift, all trussed up for him to play with. His cock juts out from his body, precum leaking down the shaft as he watches you test your restraints. You’re lying on your stomach, your wrists bound behind your back, attached to your ankles, that gem shimmers from between your cheeks as he taps it once turning it on. A low groan escapes your lips as the vibration starts and his hand dips lower activating the vibrator. The noise you make, it almost makes him come right there and then.

“You still want this baby?” He asks you, his palm cupping your jaw. “Want me to fuck your mouth?”

“Please.” You whimper as his fingertips stroke over your cheek.

“Oh honey.” He sighs as he guides his cock into the confines of your mouth. “You always say please so nicely.”

Christ you feel good, you always do, no matter which hole he’s fucking. His fingers tangle in your hair, holding your head in place as he begins to thrust into that hot, wet cavern, taking his own pleasure as yours builds and builds, like a fire being stoked.

You’re getting close now, he can feel it in the way your mouth tightens around his dick, the thrum of your stifled moans as he picks up the pace. His palm slips down to the nape of your neck holding you flush against him, throat full of his cock. The ecstasy raises up inside of you like a tidal wave, stealing through your entire body as you cry out your rapture around his cock, tipping him over the edge. He pulses down your throat, thick white streaks flooding your mouth as he looks down at you with gorgeous brown eyes of his.

“That’s it baby.” He murmurs, pushing his come deeper. “Make sure you swallow every single drop.”

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#nick torres #nick torres x reader #ncis

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mxstellatayte · 4 months ago

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metal, nuts, bolts, and a hell of a lot of blaster residue (chapter 4.)

din djarin x female mechanic reader.

chapter 4 word count:

warnings/tags: graphic depictions of violence, reader is a mechanic, found family, din djarin speaks mando'a, din and reader are both very touch starved, i don't know how fictional money works, din djarin is a bottom, smut written and proofread by an asexual, din and reader have ptsd, canon is dead and i killed it, no use of y/n

Your breathing was hitched, irregular, and shallow. Were they speeding up? No, he must have been imagining things. His blasted audio processing unit must have gotten damaged in the explosion. No, your breaths were speeding up. It’s clear now. Your breaths are panicked, even- there’s no denying the fact that you have something bothering you, probably something from your past. This is not the time to ask that, though. This is the time to help.

“Hey, listen to me. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. The ship just needs some small repairs. Can you breathe for me?” His hands immediately reach for your upper arms, kneeling in front of you. His armor hits the floor of the ship with a resounding clang, but he couldn’t care less. His only focus is you, and with his infrared sensors engaged, he can easily tell that you’re rapidly overheating, her cheeks, arms, and chest fiery red with blood flow and open capillaries.

You breathe, deep yet labored, and he can hear you try to fill your lungs fully before you groan, a sound so clearly loud, pained, and unfiltered, your knees giving out as you fall next to him, gripping your ribs with your right hand, your left still bandaged from elbow to lower forearm. Din can’t help but wonder, even if for a fraction of an instant, if he could make you make those sounds out of pleasure rather than pain before rapidly pushing the thought out of his mind. She’s injured, you horny fuck. Stop thinking with your dick and think with your brain. You scoot backwards until your back hits the half wall of drawers supporting his sleeping mat, letting your head fall backwards, and Mando does the same, sitting to your right.

“Maker, that hurts like a bitch,” you say, your breaths still ragged but slightly more even. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Din says, brushing it off. Why isn’t she thinking about herself, for Maker’s sake? “Are you?”

“I will be.” You hesitate for a moment, the infrared silhouette of your body shifting, your head lifting up slightly. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re shaking.” It’s only then that Din realizes he’s placed his left hand on your right knee, a previous action that went completely unnoticed by his conscience. “And be honest,” you add. “No lies.”

“Seriously, I’ll be okay. You just… your heart is racing, your body temperature is way too high to be normal, and your muscles are super tense-” Din cuts himself off. If his… life experience… had taught him anything, it was the biological human female body’s reaction to arousal. But there was no way that you, a woman who was so unapologetically herself and who could (and would) make his whole day turn around simply by smiling and waving at him, all the while he hid behind a metal mask and wall of armor, could possibly be attracted to him like that. Right?

A sigh and slight laugh draws his attention back to you. “Yeah, I guess it is. But let me ask you a question, too. Have you ever considered that I might feel the same way about you?” Din’s heart nearly stops. Did you really just say that? Are his auditory processors going fritzy again? “Because I do,” you continue, your voice coy and intriguing in all the right ways to make Din’s head spin and his imagination run wild as you hoist yourself up and onto his lap with a quiet groan, settling down high on his big thighs. Your arms come up to rest on his armored shoulders as you continue speaking, seemingly absentmindedly. “And I’ve been wondering for an awfully long time what it would be like to kiss you. But since your Creed won’t let that happen, then I guess I’ll have to opt for other ways to feel you. If that’s okay with you, of course.”

Din can barely think. Where was this sudden boldness from? Had it always been there, creeping into comments shared in passing and in conversation or was it new, something foreign and unexplored? Every cell in his body is screaming at him to grab her and take off his helmet and kiss you so hard that you don’t even feel the pain of your injuries, but his mind knows better. The Creed… if the Armorer found out that your hands were sliding down his shoulders and arms, making his pants grow tight under barely a fragment of your touch, and that he was even remotely thinking about removing his helmet for you, he’d have to search for the living waters on Mand’alor.

What the Armorer didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, though… right?

It’s almost like you can read his mind, because your hands rest under the edges of his helmet and his attention snaps back to you once more. “Can I take your helmet off since it’s dark?” Din exhales, a shaky, nervous sound, and he can't tell if the tingling deep in his stomach is from anxiety or from eagerness. “You don’t have to say yes to any of this, you know.”

“No, I want to, I really do. I just haven’t taken my helmet off in front of someone, even in absolute darkness, since I took the Creed.” He’s embarrassed at how shaky his voice is and how his nerves are on fire everywhere you touch him. Maker, please don’t let her feel how hot my skin is right now. Anything but that. The only things he can concentrate on are how amazing you feel in his lap, your hips lined up with his and your thighs tight around his waist.

“That’s okay,” you say, your voice so soft and gentle that Din thinks it might just be enough to melt the Armorer’s heart. “If you don’t want to take it off, I won’t be mad at you at all. It might even be more fun. Who knows?”

“You can take my helmet off,” Din says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He can tell, with the infrared scanners, that your head tilts slightly and a smile you’re trying to smother is pulling at her lips.

“You sure?” you clarify. “You want me to take your helmet off?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Is she serious? “There’s a lot of options of words that could follow that, you know. You’re going to have to be more specific.” The smile is gone now, replaced by a disappointed pout.

“I need verbal confirmation that you’re okay with this, Mando.”

Oh. That’s what you wanted. Of the myriad of things you could’ve had him say, you chose for him to clarify his consent. As if he couldn’t fall any harder for you.

“Yes. I’m okay with you taking off my helmet.” The words leaving his mouth don’t even feel real, yet they’re clawing their way out of his throat, tumbling off of his tongue and prying past his lips before he can even think about stopping them. Your hands search their way up his body, slowly crawling up his arms, his shoulders, and his neck, until your fingers are gentle on his helmet, and Din can feel the warmth of your hands on the skin of his neck- it’s a heat so gentle he’s convinced it’s a trick of his mind at first. But then your knuckles graze his cheeks as you lift the heavy Beskar over his lips, his nose, and his eyes, and suddenly any semblance of sight he had left from the infrared scanners in his helmet is gone and he’s thrown into complete darkness. He feels the weight finally lift off of his head and, with it, releases a sigh, then swallows as much air as he can.

“Hi, Mando,” you say, your voice perfect and pure and real. The warm tingles (an annoyingly stupid but wonderfully pleasant feeling that he can’t figure out if he loves or hates) bubbling low in his stomach, and his breath catches, because he’s finally hearing your voice with his own ears and not a slightly muffled version he hears through his helmet. It’s rough and gravelly, likely from the ash and dust thrown into the air from the bomb, but he wouldn’t change a thing if he had the chance. He can hear his helmet hit the ground oh-so-quietly, your weight shifting to his right slightly. When your voice lands in his ears, though, the giant breath he’d taken, catching the slightest scent of ash, dust and smoke likely left on her skin and woven into her hair, is stolen back from his lungs.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “I want to kiss you so bad right now.”

“Hm, I bet you do. I can feel just how much you do, actually.” You punctuate your words with a wiggle of your hips on his, your clothed crotch hot against his own. Din groans deep in his throat, his head falling backwards, exposing his neck, and his hands finding purchase at your waist from where they sat next to his own thighs. “So… why don’t you?”

The real reason that he wants to tell you is humiliating, given the circumstances and current position the two of them are in. “Because I wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with it.” You laugh, full and unfiltered.

“That’s so cute, baby. But given that I’m in your lap and can feel just how much you want to kiss me, I’d say that I’m okay with it.” You finish your sentence and Din can feel your breath ghosting over the bridge of his nose, your nose tickling the space between his eyebrows. Without being able to see, every little movement startles him, and he jumps slightly when he feels your breath on his lips, just the gentlest ghosting of a touch. Your breath smells like the berries you snacked on earlier when you thought he couldn’t see you, tangy and sweet. It’s a battle against his own will to keep his resolve and not lean up, kissing you like there’s no tomorrow.

And then you kiss him.

It’s so perfect, a gentle press of your lips against his, and butterflies and that stupid tingling feeling that was simmering boils over, exploding throughout his lower abdomen. You pepper the smallest of kisses to his lips again, waiting for him to reciprocate, so he does. Din leans forward, his arms sliding farther around her waist and pulling you impossibly closer. His erection pushes hard against his pants, and when you shift forward, your hips rolling and wiggling to alleviate the stress on your back, Din’s lips fall apart in a high-pitched whine that’s just downright pathetic for being a high and mighty Mandalorian. You don’t waste a split second, pushing your tongue, wide and hot, through his lips and around his mouth, to which Din can only groan deeper and meet you in the middle. His hips grind up into yours, hard and needy as your hands reach back and weave their way through his hair. With a tug of your fingers, curling them into fists and tugging hard on Din’s hair, the tingling deep in his belly only increases in intensity tenfold. The kiss is hot and messy, a hurricane of tongue and lips and teeth, and he swears that he could stay there for hours, just sitting on the floor of his ship in darkness deeper than space, kissing you and feeling your body against his, but it’s over before Din even feels like it’s begun as you pull away. If the moan he’d let out earlier was pathetic, the groan and jump forward of his lips chasing yours is humiliating. He’s panting, his chest heaving as his pulse races in his ears and his cock throbs, almost painfully now.

“Please.” That’s all he can get out as you dip your head down, kissing oh-so-gently at his neck and biting the sweetest of love bites up and down the left side of his neck. He angles his chin up to make your job a little bit easier, because the only thing his mind can compute is that you’re in his lap kissing him and he’s really hard.

“Please what, baby? I need to know,” you say in between kisses and bites.

“Please touch me. Or tell me- fuck- to touch myself. I just need something. Please.” He can feel your grin against his neck at his words and it only sends a new wave of tingles to his torso. You shift backwards again, the heat from your face leaving his neck, and he briefly mourns the loss before your ass shifts backwards, directly onto his dick, and he moans, high and whiny. “God, cyare, I need you.”

“Alright. You want me to touch you so badly?”

“Yes. Please, cyare. I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“Fine then.” You shift off of his legs and lift yourself up with a quiet groan. Din can hear you shuffling up, and he only realizes that you’re sitting above him until you speak again. “Come on, baby. Sit here.” You pull his shoulders slightly to the right until he’s in between your legs, your calves resting in between his arms and his torso and your thighs are surrounding his head. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to do everything I ask of you. And if you don’t, well, you won’t get to cum. Simple as that. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Din breathes out, his head falling onto your thigh. You pet his hair gently, a stark contrast to your words, but Din relishes any contact he has with your body.

“Good boy,” you coo. “Take your pants off, baby. Touch yourself, but only a little bit.

“Thank you.” Din frantically unbuckles his belt, shoving his pants down to his lower thighs as fast as he can and grips his dick, letting out a filthy groan that makes your thighs twitch. Oh, he thinks. She really does feel that way. “Can- can I do more?”

“Yes, baby. Get yourself off for me. And let me hear all those lovely sounds from you. Your voice is beautiful, Mando.” You weave your fingers through his hair as you speak, your nails scratching gently at his scalp causing a comforting tingle anywhere they roam. Din closes his eyes despite the darkness and lets himself lose it, letting his head go limp and fully sink into the pillows of your thighs as he slowly works his hand down his dick before bringing his hand up quickly to spit in it, then resuming his motions. Following your orders, he doesn’t hold back a single moan, whine or hum that his body begs him to make.

“Fuck… it feels so good. I wish- ah- I wish it was you, cyare.”

“Do you?” you say, tilting your head as his arm works against your calf and his moans echo around the metal walls of the ship. He hums and nods against your thigh, letting out another high moan as you assume he’s found a good angle. “Tell me what you'd have me do to you.”

Din groans, his cock twitching in his palm as he pictures you on your knees in front of him, your beautiful eyes tilted up at him as he forces his dick down your throat. “I’d… I’d have you suck me off in the cockpit of the ship. And I'd want to see my cum in your mouth before you swallowed it.” Your nails continue raking through his hair and you give the gentlest of tugs, pulling a delicious moan out of him and making his head jerk up from your thighs momentarily before settling back down. “After that I'd make you ride my thigh until you were begging to ride my cock instead- fuck, cyare. And if you'd let me, I’d cum inside of you and then have you warm me for the rest of the trip.”

You giggle lightly as Din continues jerking himself off, and if he had the choice, he’d listen to the sound of your voice as long as he possibly could. “Yeah? Is that all you’d do, baby?”

“No, I’d-” He doesn’t even finish his sentence before his whole body twitches, a loud moan forcing its way past his lips, ending in a high-pitched whine. “I’d kiss you all over your pretty face, then leave hickeys everywhere only I can see. So that way- ngahh-” He pauses again, taking a deep breath as you tug lightly on his hair. “So that way you’d remember exactly who made you feel so good.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun to me, baby,” you coo, and Din continues moaning, moving his hand up and down his cock. His sounds are getting whinier, more frequent and increasingly desperate, and you get the feeling he’s nearing his edge. “Are you getting close, baby? Do you need to cum?” He nods desperately between your thighs, and his mind briefly wanders what would happen if he flipped around, pulled your pants down your thighs, and buried his face in your cunt, bringing you to orgasm after orgasm. He can only imagine what it would be like to eat you out, his tongue making your back arch as he found the most sensitive places on your body without hesitation. Another rush of warmth runs straight to his cock, and Din swears he could cum right then and there. His hand speeds up, and you giggle in response again, another tug to his hair a perfect mix of pain and pleasure. “Use your words, Mando.”

“I need to cum- ah- please, just let me cum,” he begs, and he relishes in the feeling of your thighs tightening the slightest bit around his head. An extra tight pull of your fingers through his hair makes his head tilt back and his back arch off of the wall he’s sitting against, letting out the filthiest yet most beautiful moan you’ve ever heard. It’s borderline pornographic, but you can’t seem to get enough of it. The heat between your thighs is nearly blistering, but he can’t tell if it’s because he’s right by your core or if it’s because he’s sweating so much from being so pent up that he can feel fuzz clouding the sides of his head. Either way, it’s a feeling both of you can’t seem to get enough of.

“Go for it. Cum for me, little star. Let go.”

“Than- ah- thank you, baby~” Din’s plea is cut off with a whine as hand slows down, his hips jerking and twitching as his orgasm hits him like a plasma blast. He moans your name over and over, little moans and whines sprinkled throughout. It’s quite possibly the best thing you’ve ever heard. You coax him through every last bit of his high, easing him through it as he whines, a few tears sliding down his cheeks at the overstimulation. “Nngh- too much, ah… feels s’ good.”

~~pov switch~~

“That’s it, honey. Just like that. Now, can you do something for me?” You feel him nod weakly between your legs, and you smile, petting over his tug-mussed hair gently. “Can you spin around so that you can eat me out?” He moves almost instantly, and you grin broadly even in the darkness. Before you know it, his hands, still slick with his cum, are fumbling with the button on your pants and is shucking them down your pants as fast as he can. You’re laughing into the darkness for a short moment before his lips are flicking through you, navigating the slick surely already coating his nose, lips and chin. Your head is thrown back with a moan, bliss filling your body and your abs twitching every time his nose bumps your clit. Din groans openly, not even taking a moment to breathe, just eating you out like a man starved. Your heart races in your ears, a screaming pulse nearly drowning out the echoes of moans you didn’t even realize you were breathing out. His tongue works miracles, finding your clit and working both gentle circles and firmer flicks across it, his fingers now gently pushing inside of you. Fire builds deep in your tummy and your pelvic muscles clench around his fingers as he curves them perfectly, his fingers a perfect balance of rough and calloused and gentle and tender. “Nngh, fuck, Mando, fuckfuckfuck-” Your curses are cut off in a string of whines and moans as you cum hard. With your thighs squeezed tight around Mando’s head and his lips locked tight around your clit, fingers deep inside of you, your eyes go fuzzy at the edges and you swear you feel a tear or two slide down your cheek as your head is thrown back in pleasure. You’re not sure how much time passes, Mando gently coaxing you through what might be the best orgasm of your life, but when you return to life, you let out a little giggle, then realize that the ship still has to be fixed.

“Hey, Mando?”

“Hmm?” You can’t help but crack a smile at how dazed and fucked out he sounds. He probably looks the part, too, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you probably look about the same.

“Thank you, star. That was…” you huff out a breath, reaching your hand up to brush a lock of hair out of your eyes. “Amazing. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we really have to fix the ship.” Mando whines, leaning his chin against your thigh. You laugh at the juxtaposition- not long ago, he was eating you out and making you cum on his face harder than you ever had before, and now, he was whining and acting like a sad puppy when you said you had to do productive adult things. You can feel the scruff on his jaw mixed with your slick where his chin rests, and you reach down to rake your fingers through his hair, although much more gently this time. “Come on, we don’t want the ship to get into any worse shape than she already is. Get up, baby.” Mando climbs off of you with a huff, cool air hitting your still very sensitive core and making you struggle to stifle a gasp at the feeling.

“Fine.” You can hear him as you pull your pants back up your legs, fumbling around for his helmet. The two of you seem to move on from the events in silent agreement, leaving what could barely even be called a quickie behind you as if there wasn't painfully obvious unresolved sexual tension that had been sparked months before. “My helmet’s back on, so you can turn on your lantern.” A tight, sad sinking feeling replaces the bliss you had been experiencing, and you wipe yourself down with a towel Mando’s chucked at you before fumbling around for your lantern.

It’s fine. You’ll figure it out later. For now, you just have to focus on fixing the ship, which is the thing you’re best at. Just do that. Your brain nags at you, telling you to leave it in the past, and, to be fair, you try to. You try really hard. Despite your efforts, though, as your hands are fiddling with wiring and circuit boards and wiping grease off onto your pants, your mind replays the sounds of Mando’s sweet moans echoing off of the walls in the ship, the feeling of his body squirming under your thighs, the way his tongue mapped out every inch of your core and was able to make you cum with seemingly no effort… You huff, straightening your back and stretching out the cricks in your neck from being hunched over the piping you’re working on. Your left leg aches from being stretched out for so long, so you switch it with your right, bringing your left heel to your inner thigh and stretching your right leg out to the side. Hypermobility, the Empire called it. Yet another reason why you were “a shining candidate” to work labor jobs. Little did they know that you would find a love and talent for mechanic work just a few months in.

You huff a gust of air upward, trying to get an annoyingly insistent lock of hair out of your eyes. Your grit-coated fingers fiddle with a fuse, a little thing a little longer and wider than your thumb and something that costs way too many credits for being such a disposable thing, finally clicks into place. “By the Maker, finally,” you groan, letting your last fuck fly away. You set the circuit back into place, fuse secured, and close the piping. As you stand, your muscles scream in protest, begging for mercy as you steady yourself. The pathetic light from your lantern flickers sadly, and you wind the crank on the side to give it just enough juice to last you until the main power systems reboot. It’s been about an hour since you and Mando started fixing up the ship, and that was the last thing you had to do. Your brain almost doesn’t register the feeling of the ladder on your hand, the rungs digging into the soles of your boots, the clicks of the buttons to reboot the ship’s primary power system, or the blinking lights of the reboot. You run on autopilot, telling Mando that you can stay in the cockpit so he can sleep while you finish your journey.

It’s only when you hear Grogu coo quietly and feel him tug on the leg of your pants, making grabby hands up at you when you look down at him, that you accept you won’t be able to just forget what had happened.

You lean down to pick him up and set him in your lap, kicking your feet up onto an empty space on the dashboard. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I, kid?” Grogu looks up at you, sitting down on your knees. “I mean, come on. My hangar is gone, everything I’ve ever really had is in a duffel bag, and I’m in an ancient ship in the middle of nowhere, talking to a fifty-year-old baby as if he’s my therapist, and I don’t want to admit to myself that I’m back to square one. It’s like I just defected again.” Your hands rub at your eyes, and Grogu tilts his head, then pats your knee sympathetically. You can’t help but smile a bit at the sweet gesture, but it seems like sleep is about to hit the kid like a plasma blast, so you pat your stomach as an invitation. “C’mere. Get some sleep.” He waddles over to you, lays his head down on your tummy, and passes out almost immediately. With everything that’s happened, your body hasn’t had a chance to re-regulate itself, and as you’re watching the blue and white lights swirl by in hyperspace, you slowly drift off, too.

#mxstellatayte #stella writez #star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #baby yoda #grogu #din grogu

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