#considering [gestures at entire blog]

[neonhellscape]

pasqal setting off an industrial explosion 3ft away from himself, somehow surviving, immediately ready to pick a fight with you including saying in THE most dramatic line 'flee for i am death' said as sole survivor while he's standing in a blaze of a machine he never even touched, meets a rogue trader and where everyone else so far has kinda lost it he basically just opens a backdoor to the imperium government records to look you up and says hm checks out, having a tiny tiny breakdown when you tell him he made the machine explode and then he cant remember how he did it, saying skill issue at the people who died escorting him, then immediately setting up two turrets to Melt people and almost win the fight singlehandedly. [said with utter delight] there is something wrong with him

[thedevilandhisbride]

Yeah I wanna fuck that man covered in blood too

id buy a pants store if it meant he would get in mine

[tonycries]

Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

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---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 

Well, usually. 

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene. 

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 

“Nuh uh.” 

“Yuh uh.” 

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-” 

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 

“You probably broke-” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip! 

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him. 

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 

So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 

Close - too close. 

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 

What? 

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least. 

---

The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.

Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.

“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.

Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[v-arbellanaris]

one of my favourite parts of dai, which i don't usually speak about, is when you get to halamshiral, and they announce the inquisitor. at least half my inquisitors recruit the mages as free allies of the inquisition, and yet at halamshiral, the inquisitor is credited as vanquisher of the rebel mages, crusher of the vile apostates of the mage underground. sera says 'he's so full of it! that's not how it went.' and it's vivienne who says 'remember to smile. this is all for show, my dear.'

this, amongst many moments, really encapsulates the heart of the story inquisition is trying to tell, and there's a hundred little moments that build towards this story. i have talked before on this blog about the original purpose of the inquisition, in-world, which was both to bring the mages back under chantry control and, if necessary, to recreate a loyal templar order. that is explicitly the context in which the herald is brought into as a character - that is the 'problem' they are to address, the same way the warden's narrative problem is posed as 'there is a blight that needs to be stopped' and hawke's problem is posed, interestingly in a dual-layer kind of way which is both 'i need to keep my family safe and secure' and 'how did we get to this [gestures at the aftermath of da2]?'. the narrative then goes ahead to fill in that story. and even in these stories, throughout, there are so many things building up to the narrative beats in inquisition. everything from the portrayal of the grey wardens as a heroic force in dao and how quickly the origins goes to show the wide depth of perspectives and feelings you can actually have around being conscripted and how the joining ritual - and jory's death - expose the true heart of the order's utilitarian approach, to loghain's status as the hero of river dane and his role in the rebellion and the man he actually is under that mythos, to the entire narrative of da2 being framed around this "champion" who the chantry is painting as a deliberate saboteur and conspirator (with the grey wardens) to bring the chantry and the circles down, to the ameridan reveal in jaws of hakkon, and the evanuris reveal in trespasser. there is so much story and deconstruction throughout the series of the 'chosen one' narratives - each story's protagonist has been a "chosen one" who was never really chosen, survived through chance, and shouldered responsibility for a wide variety of reasons. and their actions become legends and myths that consume any trace of who they really were. and this culminates in an extreme way in dai, because the role of the herald - which is who your pc is before they're the inquisitor - has religious significance, and in-world, andrastianism is the most dominant religion. and the religion is SO culturally pervasive, to the extent there are no governing bodies in the entirety of thedas are secular, and most are andrastian-aligned. even orzammar's belief in paragons and the stone is aligned to a religion, even if it's not andrastianism - atheism and secularism is something entirely unthinkable within a thedosian society. so of course the impact of the herald of andraste is different to the hero of ferelden or the champion of kirkwall.

but i think it's disingenous and outright insulting to insist that this was done well, or with finesse, or that the narrative tools used to convey these themes should somehow be overlooked in light of the mere presence of The Theme in the Narrative. i've spoken before on how often the writing in dai doesn't want you to think - it removes the options to argue, to present you with a statement that is The Objective Truth, as though if enough of your companions repeat the statement, it will become true. and i, myself, and plenty of people in the fandom - particularly people of colour - have been vocal about the implications around the framing of these Objective Truths, when you consider the real life analogues that these Truths are drawn from, by bioware's own admittance. that's not even touching the inherent problems with the narrative push of "imperialism is better than chaos". therefore, i cannot and do not understand responses to criticisms of dai that essentially come back around to "well, you have to understand that the dai pc is not written to be a leftist, they're written to be a centrist" - inquisition, especially, rewards conservatism specifically, as a first point. as a second point, why would having an option to have a pc with leftist or progressive views - not just progressive for thedas, but progressive according to modern values - take away from either the deconstruction of chosen one narratives or the idea of losing your identity that's pervasive throughout dragon age as a whole?

i have spoken to the blank-slate feeling to the inquisitor as a deliberate writing choice, one that people suggest is actually feeding into the themes of dai, but i argue that it's actually a deliberate writing choice so that new players come in without any opinions or experiences of the world at all, and thus become more primed to accept Objective Truths from the companions. thus, criticisms -- certainly mine are -- around the lack of options to argue with your companions stems not from wanting to be right, but from being allowed to have a different opinion. how does having a different opinion to what's publicly acceptable, or desirable, actually not enhance the themes of identity loss in dai?

yes, you cannot decide that your warden does not become a warden - but you live through the experience of becoming a warden, to show why it's necessary. you are allowed to have complicated opinions about being a warden, and act based on those opinions. yes, you cannot choose to not play as hawke, but you can choose exactly what kind of hawke you want to play - someone pro-templar, or pro-mage, or someone who starts out at one end and comes out of it the other end, someone who values family or money or status and prestige, someone who is funny or diplomatic or violent. you have a choice. and when the inquisitor doesn't have any background at all, there is no justification for why the inquisitor needs to be a centrist, or why they would be one. my circle mage pc could have been part of the rebellion. my cadash could have been someone kicked out of orzammar as a child or someone who lived in dust town before they got to the surface. the lack of backstory for the inquisitor, similar to the warden or hawke, actively weakens the story - how do you write a story about someone losing their personal identity to their growing myth/legend, when there's literally nothing that is ever establishing what they've lost? how do you write a story about someone losing their personal identity, or being subsumed by their role, when there's nothing to indicate their personhood? how much more jarring would it have been to have been proudly and loudly and unapologetically pro-mage and pro-rebellion the entire game, only to get to halamshiral and be called vanquisher of the rebel mages? all of your personal politics and values disappearing and smoothed over in such a visibly visceral way? how much more gutting would it have been to have these values, and speak to them, and argue for them articulately, and still never be able to change your companions' minds, instead of constantly being put in a position where your companions get the last word in on absolutely everything, right down to arguments about slavery with dorian? how much more intense would it have been to have had a wide array of options in dealing with main quests and situations, only to have it boiled down to one thing or one of two decisions, with all the complexities stripped from it? how can you say that being forced to be centrist as the pc is central to the story being told, and not something that actively hampers the themes dai is trying to draw on?

i especially don't know how people can insist to overlook how - as in the methods chosen here - bioware's writing team in dai pushes the deconstruction of the 'chosen one' narrative that is present throughout dragon age. inquisition choses to do this by doubling down and retconning and two-sidesing every single complexity under the sun - from suggesting mages oppressed themselves by rebelling/not every mage even wanted to be free of the circle (while offering limited voices otherwise, and making sure to clarify the voices calling for mage freedom are Evil and Bad), to blaming the dalish for being slaughtered by the exalted marches in the dales, right through to the decision to make ameridan a dalish elf and yes even the decisions made around the writing for the evanuris. and we have to be clear about it, that if the overarching themes of dragon age are deliberate, then this was also a deliberate writing choice, to further emphasise the idea that history is written by the victors, that stories warp and change over time, etc etc. the series' successes in storytelling have been around the subjectivity of absolutely everything; there is no objective truth in dragon age, there is something that happened, and then there is 50 different opinions about it. the codex entries are not objective truth, they're biased reportings from people with agendas and pre-existing beliefs and notions. you can live through the battle of ostagar, and there are still 50 different perspectives on it, and all of them valid from that person's standpoint. inquisition takes a hard swerve from this, to insist on Objective Truths, not because it was the best way to make their point - they've been making their point with subtler storytelling for years - but because it's lazy, racist, colonialist writing. and worse, still, is that this writing is then forced as Objective Truths to you, the player character, with no way to argue even when you have the knowledge, or your pc could reasonably be expected to have the knowledge to counter this information, or to even argue about the interpretation of the "Evidence" you find of these Objective Truths.

and i suppose, if it's not your stories and histories being co-opted, it's easy enough to say having those choices don't matter to the overarching theme. i suppose, if it's not your religions or cultures being borrowed and frankenstein'd into this fictional world and the religion and culture you do identify with are primarily portrayed as inherently correct and superior in a way you were never taught to question, it can seem like questioning those beliefs and opinions in your companions and in npcs is a waste of effort. it's not, but i can see how it might feel that way.

inquisition itself, as a game, does not simply deliver a theme - the narrative tools used to deliver that theme throughout the story are frankly abhorrent. on top of that, key decisions in the plot have little to no immediate, serious consequences (for example, siding with the mages or templars only really has narrative consequences for who you face at fall of haven and in the temple of mythal; there are almost no consequences for kicking the wardens out of orlais; etc etc). companion character quests revolving around whether or not to change and strive for better, or to stay with their old regressive patterns have absolutely no narrative consequences because the world re-sets to status quo. 2/3rds of your choice for divine essentially reinstate the old systems, and only one (vivienne) actually makes any systemic changes to those systems, and the game mechanic itself is incredibly slanted towards choosing the divine that brings everything back to "normal". all following mentions of the media neatly dodge the question of whether you have made any lasting change at all. all to push the narrative that change isn't really possible, because society will always go back to the status quo. and if you try to challenge that status quo, you will just make things worse, so it's better to just stay as it is. nothing matters, no change is permanent, and anything you try to do, people will warp for their own agenda anyway, because you are not you anymore, you are a caricature people will use to justify the way things are and insist it is how it must continue to be.

which is a stupid hill to die on, if you're going to defend the ways inquisition tells its story. even trick weekes themselves find it a trite and bleak storytelling mechanism. when even bioware itself is going "our next narrative will Not be that" - will even be the opposite of that, that it's bullshit not to try to change things at all - it's as good as an admission that the ball was dropped on that in the previous installment.

anyway, i just think it's actually incredibly disingenuous and insulting to address criticisms around narrative framing and the limitations of character responses and choices in inquisition as if its overlooking the story's themes, or somehow missing the point that has been staring us in the face since origins. we know the themes they intended to convey. that still doesn't mean inquisition satisfactorily delivered. which i frankly think even bioware themselves recognised and are actively trying to do better in for da4.

[msmorningstaarr]

let me be yours | part II

ao3 | masterlist | < part I |

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x f!Martell Reader

Word count: 6.6k

Summary: You, a Martell princess who was recently brought into Rhaenyra's courtyard as a sign of goodwill to ensure the unification of the Seven Kingdoms. With time passing on, you feel trapped under the enticing aura of the Dragon Queen and sees yourself desiring her more and more. However, in a delicate situation, is it worth the yearn for your Queen? Would you give in to your needs to have your way with her and find some indulgence?

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), afab reader, bisexual rhaenyra, canon divergence, longing, age gap (you early 20s rhae mid 30s), fingering, masturbation, oral sex, sub/dom dynamics (rhae dom you sub), overstimulation, scissoring, queen rhaenyra targaryen, nipple play, possessive rhaenyra

a/n: well, it’s been a long time since I don’t post a fic here and I was considering seriously ending my blog (i still do low key and end totally my last social media but let’s ignore that) but I have fun here and I love sharing my stories with you guys. thanks for reading! I hope you all enjoy it <3 comments, reblogs, likes are very much appreciated.

Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody @pet1t3

The next day, Rhaenyra summoned you to visit her again, and you brought your cloak to show her the sewing and embroidery you had completed. Her praise for your work and dedication was effusive, each word like a sweet melody to your ears. As she examined the intricate stitches and delicate patterns, her hand would occasionally brush against yours, a gentle touch that sent a thrill of warmth through your entire being. These fleeting moments of physical contact spoke volumes, conveying an unspoken tenderness and connection between you.

Her gaze remained as intense as ever, locking onto yours with a depth that stirred both admiration and longing within you. There were times when she leaned in closely to speak, her words brushing against your ear with an intimacy that left you breathless. Occasionally, she would press a lingering kiss to your cheek or temple, the softness of her lips leaving an indelible impression.

Each gesture, each touch, each word of affection stirred a flurry of emotions within you. You found yourself wondering if Rhaenyra's actions were merely those of a caring future mother-in-law, or if they hinted at something deeper, something that mirrored your own feelings. The uncertainty added a bittersweet edge to your interactions, blending desire with apprehension as you navigated the delicate dance between duty and desire in her presence.

And each night, you would touch yourself thinking about Rhaenyra.

Finger twirling around your clit.

Daring to play with your entrance.

Mumbled words desperately calling for your Queen.

Fingers down on your cunt until you come undone on your fingers.

Wishing it was on hers.

But after almost a month of engaging in your own pleasure, it came ahead of you the unstoppable moment of your life: your wedding. You remember yourself being a little princess in Dorne, waiting and counting your days to know how long it would take until she would be wedded to someone and there you were, now dreading this moment.

You wished to fulfil your fantasy, you wished to have a way with Rhaenyra. How could you marry her son and still think of her, every night? Marriage is just a piece of paper, Rhaenyra well said, however, would you ever be willing to be the one who brings pleasure, true pleasure, into your life?

There you were, five days away from your wedding, knocking on Rhaenyra’s door to spend your time with her. This time, she asked you to come in your evening garments, a cream nightgown with long, tight sleeves. Your hair was loose and carried no jewellery on your body. The Queen opened up her door for you with a soft smile, signing you to go inside her bedchambers.

“Your Grace.” You courtied her, bending your knee. Rhaenyra raised her eyebrows, silently remembering you of her wish. “Sorry, Rhaenyra. I cannot help but treat you as you deserve.”

Rhaenyra held a smug smile after hearing you call her by her title. Her hands reached yours and entangled your fingers, greeting you in a more intimate manner. “Then as your Queen, I command you to call me by my name, little sun.” The Queen beamed at you, mischievously with her faint, playful smile. You laughed, although still a bit shy. “I apologise for summoning you in the night, my darling.” She began, walking throughout her room.

You followed her and one of her QueensGuard closed the door behind you and finally left the both of you alone. You were nervous, joining your hands on your back as you followed her, trying to disguise your anticipation around Her Grace. “I could not fall asleep and felt in need of your company. You lift my spirits.” The Queen said, sympathetically. Your eyes sparkled as she praised you, heart beating in anticipation and having a weird sense of validation, hence her sweet talk. “I hope I have not interrupted your sleep.”

As if you could ever go slumbering without touching yourself to the thought of Rhaenyra. You beamed briefly and shook your head, finding you a place to stay still, right after Your Grace. “You did not, as I myself have also been in some trouble finding my own sleep, Your Grace.”

Rhaenyra looked at you after a long sigh and her eyes seemed more relaxed when around you. She looked so beautiful in that blue nightgown, honouring her mother, a Lady of Arryn. Her hair was long and thick, she took great joy in braiding it before sleeping, but you would rather see it all loosen down, giving her a more human aspect to her godly, ethereal appearance.

Rhaenyra approached you, involving your hands on hers and grinning, which you grinned back before she led you towards a small table with a jar of wine with two goblets beside it. “We barely had time these days to share our daily moments. It is a shame.”

You started drinking by the same window Rhaenyra teased you, being bathed by the moonlight, Rhaenyra seemed even more stunning when in a more natural state. Rhaenyra drank her own wine but her eyes were locked on you, as it would always be. “I have been missing you, but with the current state of your wedding, we have both been quite busy lately.”

You nodded, positioning your cup on the window to lean your chest over it, watching from afar the lights of Flea Bottom. You didn’t know what to feel or think about it. You had so much time to spend with Jace and he seemed polite, but rather distant from you.

Maybe it was your fault, you should stay away from the Queen’s web, perhaps make more effort to be in acquaintance with your betrothed before the actual wedding. It was a rare thing, to live amongst your future husband, could give some default to the life ahead of you. However, you wasted it. “What troubles your sleep this evening, my sun?”

Your hands were sweaty again, your eyes lowered, looking to the immensity of darkness on the ground. Rhaenyra grabbed your face with her hands and smiled, as a sign of her affection. “I am nervous, Rhaenyra, I must admit.” You started, hesitant. “I have been thinking about what you told me in a former encounter of ours.”

Rhaenyra stared at you, intrigued. Her eyes narrowed, trying to recall their older gatherings. “You have?” Rhaenyra said with a hint of surprise in her eyes. The Queen looked at you with curiosity, trying to remember the words she said in the last moments they shared together. “Continue, dear.” Rhaenyra encouraged you with her gentle smile and her eyes still on yours.

“About marriages, duties and happiness…” You started, taking a smirk from Rhaenyra. Her fingers caressed your chin after squeezing it gently.

“Ah, those words, yes.” Rhaenyra chuckled, nodding her head. She gently cupped your face with her hands, her fingers caressing your cheeks. She took a step forward, standing very close to you.

“That was... very interesting of you to bring it up again.” The woman hummed, staring into your eyes.

You hummed yourself, feeling her lavender oil scent invade your nostrils and involuntarily, you bite your lower lips, feeling the heat grow ridiculously fast as Rhaenyra preyed on you, like a dragon seeking out its food. “And why does Your Grace find it interesting?”

Rhaenyra smiled down in amusement, watching your teeth sink into your lower lip. She traced her thumb over your lower lip, tugging slowly to free it from your teeth. She looked into your eyes, her pupils wide and full of lust.

“Because... I wonder if you remember the words I said that evening…” She said, almost whispering it to you and she leaned in closer.

Your mouth went dry instantly with the pace the gap between your bodies was closing. You remembered it more than well, but lacked the confidence to say it out loud. Not for not trusting in her, but mostly out of fret for what could happen now. She was too close to the pyre and the chances of being burned were immense. Either way, you said it. “A marriage is just a piece of paper.” You mumbled, breathing against her fair skin.

Rhaenyra chuckled lowly, her eyes slowly moving all over your face. She took the time to take in your expressions and your reactions to her body being so close to yours. She saw the way your throat moved slightly when you swallowed. The Queen took another step forward, feeling your chest against her own. She could feel your heart beating against your chest and she had no doubts that you could feel hers too. Rhaenyra could almost feel your breath against her lips as she let out a soft hum. “Correct.” She said, quietly.

“Once we are in a marriage, we can still have our… preferences. I learned it well with my late husband,” Rhaenyra traced her fingertips on your soft lips, attentively staring at it. “Bedding is not the biggest of your problems, my dear, but the lack or opportunity to be vulnerable. It can be the greatest of our strengths or weaknesses.”

Rhaenyra introduced your thumb within your mouth and instinctively, you suckled on it and closed your eyes as she spoke. Your warm tongue licked and pulled her thumb closer in a sultry move. Your cunt was soaked, dripping for Rhaenyra. “Open your eyes and look at me.” She softly commanded and you immediately complied. Your reaction encouraged her and her thumb gently moved under your bottom lip. The silver queen gently brushes it across the plump surface.

“How can something so flawless and beautiful exist in this world?” Rhaenyra muttered to herself. Her gaze never leaves your face. It was surreal, was it really happening to you? Your head was free of thoughts, only living in the present and wanting more of that enticing woman. “You see, you make me quite vulnerable to you. I wonder if you will make a strength or a weakness out of it.”

Then, Rhaenyra got closer. Now, the fabrics were much thinner than the other dresses both women wore. You could feel the swell of her breasts, her waist glued against yours, her breath close to you again. You startled, feeling her fingertips grazing on your skin, gently and superficially.

Once the Queen took off her finger and muttered her words, you opened her eyes and stared at Rhaenyra. “You think this highly of me, Your Grace?” You asked, muttering back.

“A woman as beautiful as you has no right to exist. Perfection itself. An artwork the Rhoynar Gods made to torture men.” Rhaenyra muttered back, as her fingers traced along your soft jaw and down the side of your neck, feeling your pulse. “And they have. A vision so perfect and lovely has tempted me like no other. A true flower of the desert." Rhaenyra whispered.

“Do I tempt you?” You asked again, whispering as well. Your figures were now pressed against each other. Rhaenyra moved her head up a little, her lips ghosting over yours, not yet kissing, but close enough to feel her breath on your skin as she spoke.

Rhaenyra chuckled and lifted her chin slightly, feeling your body shiver slightly against hers as you let her touch travel down on your nightgown.

The material was soft and thin, doing a terrible job to hide how much it was affecting you. The blonde hummed when she felt your body shuddering under her touch. The Queen let her hand slide behind your waist, enjoying the heat of your skin under her touch.

“You have no idea of the power you hold, my sweet girl. No idea of how weak I am for you.” Her words caused you to silently gasp in front of her, you gave in entirely to Rhaenyra, your dream was coming true and fear grew as arousal spread through your body.

“Why do I make a weak of you?” You asked your possible lover, granting yourself the benefit of the doubt as you played naive for the cold truth: she wanted you as much as you wanted her.

“Because I long for you.” Rhaenyra muttered, still running her thumb gently across your bottom lip. She couldn't help but stare down at the mouth of this sweet thing. Just the thought of her kissing you was enough to send you the edge. The temptation was too much to bear.

“I long for you too, my Queen.” You finally admitted, mumbling at Rhaenyra. Ever since you landed on King’s Landing to be warded by the Queen, you find herself daydreaming of kissing her lips and being her own little Queen.

“Is that so, sweet girl?” Rhaenyra’s voice was low and sultry, her eyebrow arched in a mixture of curiosity and desire. A soft smile played on her lips as her thumb gently traced the contours of your plump, soft lips. Each stroke sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

Every time she looked at your lips, a deep hunger ignited within her, a yearning to taste you and make you hers in every sense. Your gaze lingered, filled with a fierce determination to claim you as her own, to explore every inch of your being and etch her presence into your soul. The moment hung heavy with tension and unfulfilled desire, as if the world itself paused to witness the profound connection between you.

“I wish I could be yours." You reply, your eyes burning desire for Rhaenyra. You pay no mind for any liability; you care not that she is your Queen, the mother of your future husband, a woman. You wanted Rhaenyra.

“You can.” Rhaenyra muttered. She brought her other hand to your face, making sure to be completely focused on every part of you, taking in everything about you. Every part of her was perfect. As her thumbs trace over the soft flesh of your face, her eyes flicker down to your parted lips and she cannot help but gaze down to them, feeling the need to feel them on hers. “Just say the word.”

You touched the hand of Rhaenyra that was resting on your face and bit your lips again while listening to Her Grace. Submissively, you replied. “Let me be yours, Your Grace.” You mumbled, in a disguised begging for Rhaenyra to claim you, to have her way with you.

The eyes of Rhaenyra brightened and she was in total bliss. Hearing your sweet words in that pretty mouth, in that sensual tone, was like music to her ears. Rhaenyra leaned in close while both her hands gently held your face. Her nose gently brushed your own and she looked deep into your eyes.

“You are mine. My sweet girl.” Rhaenyra whispered as her tongue gently traced over your lip. She was close. You moaned lightly and she hummed with your reaction.

“I’m yours, Your Grace,” You whispered back, with a trembling voice and a mixture of reverence and longing. The words hung in the air, laden with the weight of her surrender. Impulsively, you pulled Rhaenyra closer, her fingers grasping the fabric of her gown with a desperate need to feel her warmth.

Yet, despite the burning desire coursing through her veins, you hesitated, her breath hitching as she stopped just short of initiating the kiss. Your faces were mere inches apart, close enough to feel each other’s breath mingling in the charged air. She gazed into Rhaenyra’s eyes, finding herself lost in the depths of those piercing, commanding orbs.

Feeling you pull her closer, Rhaenyra had to act. She closed the remaining distance as she pressed her mouth against yours, kissing you. Her lips moved slowly against your own, enjoying the feeling of you beneath her, knowing you were hers. Her thumbs gently stroke the flesh of your cheeks as she begins to explore your mouth.

Her kiss was ethereal as her beauty. You explored the inside of her mouth with her tongues in an enticing dance, moaning between the kiss as her hand possessively wandered through your hair. Rhaenyra hummed again against your mouth, delighting herself with her reactions. Her arm possessively brought you even closer, as if it was possible and another hand of hers grabbed you by the neck, deepening the kiss.

Gently, the silver Queen pushed you against the cold wall of her chambers, causing an electrifying thermal shock on your body. Her fingertips traced through your jawline and she tightened her grip, feeling her smooth flesh, rubbing against yours and the feeling was beyond incredible. Rhaenyra parted her lips for a brief time, staring at you with eyes full of hunger.

“Do you want me, sweet girl?” Rhaenyra whispered, with a husky voice as her eyes darkened, burning with desire and need for you. She watched you closely, waiting for an answer from you, holding you on a firm grip. You nodded at her question, taciturnly responding at her.

“Say it.” The royal commanded again, filling the air with tension enough to explode the room. Her eyes were locked on yours, breathing heavily towards your lips, you were drowned in pleasure, your voice was about to falter, right in front of your queen.

“I want you, My Queen.” You whispered. Her lips curled into a devilish smirk, with one of her hands letting go of your waist to cup your cheek, brushing your olive skin in very gentle circles. Rhaenyra joined your noses and rubbed each other, teasing you. Your desire went over the edge. It was overwhelmingly good being claimed by Your Grace, you would make sure this night was perfect. Rhaenyra's tongue explored every inch of your mouth. Feeling the warmth inside and tasting you on her tongue.

“Are you mine, sweet girl?" She asked, moving from your mouth down to your jaw, sucking and leaving marks on your soft flesh. Her moves were quick and furtive, as a dragon should be. Her face roamed yours, examining your expressions with cunning and desire.

“I am yours, Your Grace,” you whispered, with a voice having a delicate blend of devotion and anticipation. A soft hum of pleasure escaped your lips as you felt the tender nibbling and gentle suckling on your skin, each touch sending delightful shivers through her body. The sensations were exquisite, drawing you deeper into a state of blissful surrender.

“You are mine.” Rhaenyra replied against your skin. You tilted your head back, moaning lightly as the Queen suckled on the skin of your neck, sending shivers down your spine nipples to instantly turn visible through your nightgown. Her hand travelled south, squeezing your waist and hips and soon after, your thigh. “Mine, mine, mine…” She continued, repeating the word like a prayer, still close to your neck.

Swiftly, she flipped your body and pressed the front of it against the cold wall, pulling your hair to the side and kissing your back as a contrast to her rough and sudden gesture. You purred with pleasure as Rhaenyra had her hands reaching the laces of your nightly garments and you moaned lightly, feeling her kisses on your neck. Your hands, delicately, pulled her head against your neck, beseeching for more action on her side.

“I am all yours,” You replied, faintly moaning with the motion of your dress falling onto the floor. “Yours, yours, yours…”

Rhaenyra mischievously smiled, out of satisfaction hearing your voice so submissive to her. Her soft hands wandered up and down on your bare back, admiring your naked body. Your neck was invaded with kisses, bites and suckles, mixing pain and lust at the same time and your moans were becoming desperate for her.

"I want to worship you, sweet girl. Will you let me?" Rhaenyra asked in a sultry whisper, her hands finding the lace of her own dress and revealing her pale skin. You agreed in silence, feeling her nipples brushing against your back. "Perfect." She muttered, her voice barely a mutter. One of her hands moved up to your breast, gently caressing it with her thumb.

And then, Your Grace flipped your body back to face your front. A brief silence rose amongst you two, her body screamed the yearn to devour you completely. Rhaenyra pinched your left nipple and you moaned in a low tone. "Gorgeous." Rhaenyra murmured as her mouth took in your pert nipple, her tongue flicking over it softly and your hands almost immediately reached her hair again, not allowing Rhaenyra to let go of your chest. Her tongue circled one nipple and alternated with suckling, kisses and bites on your nipple.

No one has ever seen you naked before. Yet, being all exposed for Rhaenyra for the first time was no hardship. You felt close to explode once her lips reached your breast and a soft cry came from your mouth. Rhaenyra hummed against your flesh, continuing to give your breast the attention it desired.

One of her hands lowered over your cunt as her lips suckled and licked your chest. Her other hand moved down across your torso before gently placing it between your legs and gently stroking a digit across your core, making you melt into her arms, exploding with her skilful manoeuvring.

Rhaenyra gently removed her mouth from your breast and looked up into your eyes. Her thumb continued to circle your core, picking up the pace as she watched you. "Does it feel good, sweet girl? Do you enjoy this?" The Queen muttered with a teasing smirk as she watched your hips bounce for her. You looked right into Rhaenyra’s eyes, moaning silently and crying out in pleasure against that wall, only nodding in response to her question.

Rhaenyra leaned in and kissed you once more as her thumb pressed down gently on your sensitive clit, delighting herself with your moans. "Say it." Rhaenyra whispered, repeating her command and wanting to hear you say out loud how much you like this.

“I-It feels so good… Y-your Grace…” You stammered, with your voice trembling with pleasure. You leaned in and pressed her lips to Rhaenyra’s, kissing deeply and fervently, as the Queen’s hands continued to explore her body with master, tender touches. Each caress heightened your senses, mumbling soft moans from her lips and making her pulse race with a mixture of excitement and desire.

The Queen vibrated in response and pressed down more on your sensitive apex, slowly increasing the pressure, watching closely for your reaction.

As she did this, her other hand moved up to wrap around your neck, gently squeezing you. You moaned, gazing directly into her eyes. "That's it, sweet girl. Let it all out." Rhaenyra whispered, her voice now husky and needy.

Not all times you touched yourself you could be as good as Rhaenyra was touching you. She knew how and where exactly to do it on you and it built an imminent desperation for release within your body. Your hands reached her shoulders, squeezing it as she grew closer to come on her fingers.

As your whines and moans grew, Rhaenyra knew you were close. Her thumb kept circling and pressing on your sweet spot, listening to the soft noises coming from your mouth. The sight of her in front of you was perfection. Rhaenyra squeezed your neck gently and whispered to you. "Come for me, my sweet. I want to see you fall to pieces in my hands... just for me."

With her soft command, you felt your legs faltering and a single tear of joy leaving your right eye, with a moan so similar to a whine leaving your mouth while your climax hit you, exploding just as the fourteen fires of the Valyria of Old. You buried your head on the crook of Your Grace’s neck, irregularly breathing and trembling your body.

Rhaenyra slowed her movements, taking her time to pull you through your orgasm. With each gentle rock of her thumb across your sensitive jewel, she kissed and licked up your neck. The sound of your moans and whines filled her ears and sent shivers down her spine. Feeling your body tremble against her sent a tingle between her thighs. "That's it, sweet girl. You've been so good, so perfect for me." The Queen muttered in praise as her arm wrapped around your waist.

You smiled, still in ecstasy from the aftershocks of that alluring moment you had shared with the Queen and kissed her lips gently while your body recovered. After the brief kiss, they stared at each other in silence and you proceeded to suckle on the finger that touched you, wiping all of your own wetness with her lips from Rhaenyra’s hand, who let go a groan as she watched you taste her on your fingers.

She could feel a heat beginning to burn deep within her core. You needed her. She brought her hands to your face and cupped your cheeks, kissing you deeply as she backed you towards the bed. The Dragon Queen pushed you down onto the soft silk sheets and hovered over top of you.

"I need you." She whispered against your mouth, her voice hoarse and desperate.

You felt the impact of falling onto the bed and kept kissing Rhaenyra and feeling the Queen alternating between her lips and neck. You spread her legs to accommodate Rhaenyra on top of you while Your Grace’s lips tasted your skin roughly and desperately.

“Then take me, Your Grace.” You whispered back, muttering ‘please’ onto her ear, which drove Rhaenyra to complete madness over you.

Rhaenyra lowered her body down, grinding her thigh against your wet core. You moaned a bit louder to the pressure and the sensation. She wanted to tease you, but you could not hold back anymore. "I am going to make you squirm, sweet girl." She muttered as her hand moved down your body, caressing your breast before her knee gently found your cunt. Rhae was gentle at first, pressing down gently as she rocked her knee against you. You, on the other hand, complied immediately to her promise, squirming and allowing your body to spasm under her touch. Instinctively, you grabbed her arse to keep Rhaenyra close.

Rhaenyra moaned as her body trembled, feeling your hands grab her arse and rock her. She leaned in close, biting down on your neck as she pressed her knee against you. "Feels so good, sweet...girl." She muttered as she continued to rub gently, her free hand gripping into your waist, as her own moans began to fill the room.

“Please, my Queen… more…” You pleaded as Rhaenyra kept rocking her knee against your sensitive centre, leaving moans from both mouths. You left one hand to the Queen’s hair, bringing her closer and the other hand kept squeezing Rhaenyra.

Your desperate moans made Rhaenyra go feral, her need and longing to hear more of your sweet sounds was overwhelming. "Say my name." She muttered, darkening her eyes and lowering your voice to a devilish tone, wanting to hear you utter her name on your lips.

You were torn, unsure if you should dare to call Rhaenyra by her name. It still seemed as a terrible lack of respect, yet the pleasure she derived from obeying her was overwhelming. As the sensations intensified, bringing you closer to the edge, you have decided to comply without question.

“My Queen,” you murmured breathlessly, opting to avoid using Rhaenyra’s name. The words felt both formal and intimate, a reflection of your submission and the profound connection you felt in that moment. Rhaenyra had her body trembling with anticipation, each touch and command driving her further into a state of astonishing surrender.

Rhaenyra listened intently as her thigh pressed and slowly paced against your intimacy, getting off your moans and whines. The queen smirked and kissed at your neck, gently sucking on the bare skin.

"No, my dornish sun.” She whispered in your ear, her voice sultry and seductive. “Say it... my name. I need to hear it from your sweet lips.”

“Rhae… Rhaenyra…” You moaned as Rhaenyra alternated between her fingers and knee on your intimacy. Your whines became more urgent as another orgasm began giving its early signs.

Upon hearing her name, Rhaenyra gently but firmly rolled her knee against your cunt, feeling your body tense slightly with your approach at climax. Wanting nothing more than to send you over the edge, Rhaenyra suddenly stopped and made you sigh heavily out of frustration for the denial of her release.

“Please, Rhae…” You pleaded, unable to finish her name, clenching your entrance around nothing and humping your cunt in the air.

"I want you to come on my lips." Rhaenyra groaned into your ear. Rhaenyra eagerly positioned her head between your legs, her mouth kissing along the inside of your sensitive thighs and making you arch your back, sobbing with the utter state of bliss. Rhaenyra moaned at the sight of your intimate spot, swollen, covered in slick and sensitive from the foreplay.

"So pretty for me, sweet girl." She whispered as her fingers gently parted your labia, exposing your jewel to her gaze. You moaned in anticipation by the simple act of having Rhaenyra kissing your inner thighs. Your lips were quick to be bitten.

Rhaenyra smirked at your moans, feeling her own desire building between her own legs. The sight of you squirming made her want you even more. She lowered her head gently, her tongue giving tentative licks to the sensitive skin on your thighs, biting softly into it. "And so responsive..." She murmured.

The more you moaned, the more desperate Rhaenyra was to hear more. She gently parted your lips further, exposing your sensitive intimacy. Slowly and gently, her thumb began to rub your sensitive bud, while her mouth returned to the skin above your cunt, suckling and biting at the flesh “Say my name, sweet girl." She whispered against your skin.

“R-rhaenyra…” You called her in a desperate moan. You pulled the Queen’s head closer to your damp core and her body arched back, feeling all the pleasure Rhaenyra had to offer to you.

Rhaenyra groaned at the sound of her name falling from your lips and leaned in closer as you pulled her head forward. Her tongue suddenly moved forward to brush across your sensitive bud, circling gently. “Does that feel good, sweet girl? Does the Queen make you feel good?” You moaned as the royal returned back to gentle licks and circling motions.

“So good, my Queen…” You replied, humping your intimacy against Rhaenyra’s face.

The queen groaned out at the feeling of you rubbing against her, your soft noises making her heart beat faster in her chest. Your moans were the sweetest sound to her, music to her ears. Her tongue continued to move, the circles slowly becoming more and more erratic with her movements, her tongue adding more pressure to the side of your bundle of nerves.

You had your legs shaking once more and desperation built within you, a single tear leaving your eyes and Rhaenyra sped up the pace as she worked her tongue on you.

The sight of you beneath her only edged her on further. Rhaenyra felt her own desires and needs building within, her own core growing desperate for the same kind of attention. However, she continued with making you feel good. She wanted to make you cry, wanted to make you come undone. Rhaenyra leaned a bit closer, her pace quickening as her tongue flicked back and forth against your sweet spot.

"Are you close, sweet girl?" Her voice vibrated against your cunt, alternating her voice between eating your cunt out.

“Yes, my Queen…” You replied, agonisingly feeling Rhaenyra down on you, having you as if you were her last meal. Your whines were consistent and urgent, the warmth of her mouth made you feel even closer to your peak.

Rhaenyra groaned against your clit, feeling your body grow tense and more desperate. You were so close to falling over the edge, she could tell. "Come for me, sweet girl. I want to hear you call out my name when you reach your peak." Rhaenyra whispered before returning her tongue to your bundle of nerves, the speed in her circles increasing and becoming more frequent.

“Rhaenyra-…” You were quick to comply and let go, feeling your body convulsing under the overwhelming presence of your Queen licking your cunt and once more, you climaxed and now on her tongue. Rhaenyra groaned as your body convulsed under her mouth, her tongue continuing its ministrations through your peak.

The queen, however, hovered over you once more and kissed your lips hungrily, her face all covered in your wetness. “I am not done with you.” Rhaenyra groaned at the feeling of your bodies pressed together, her fingers digging into your skin slightly as she kissed your lips, her teeth gently biting over your pulse point.

“Mine.” She murmured against your skin, her breath hot yet soft as she whispered into the crook of your neck. The possessive edge in her voice and the way her teeth gently gripped onto your skin sent tingles down her spine, her body shivering against yours.

“I’m yours, Rhaenyra.” You muttered back, feeling Rhaenyra’s hand cup one of her breasts and taking a moan out of your lips.

Rhaenyra roughly squeezed your breasts at the sound of your moan, your breath shuddering softly against your skin as she moved her hand over your body, her fingers trailing over your hips, feeling again the mix between soreness and lust.

“Only mine.” She whispered quietly into your ear, her breath hot and shaky as she placed her legs between yours and pressed against you. Rhaenyra groaned at the sound of your moan, her body shivering as it pressed against you and her leg grinded against your centre.

“You feel that, darling?” She whispered her husky and shaky voice in your ear as her fingers trailed down to your hip, her leg gently and slowly rubbing against you. Rhaenyra’s hips gently grinded against yours, her breath shaky as she continued to rub her leg over you, her fingers digging into your hip slightly as she slowly began to rub at a steady pace.

She let out a low groan, her own need for you evident. “You feel so perfect, my darling.”

“Please yourself with me, Your Grace…” You said between moans as Rhaenyra rubbed her leg against your intimacy. Your mind rummined about her cunt against yours and it drove you straight into madness. Your body could barely understand the variation of emotions going through at this moment since you were close to come for the third time by that moment. Even still, you knew you could handle her, you wanted anything she had to offer you.

Rhaenyra gasped softly, her moans getting louder as her leg continued to rub against you, her hips shaking against as she listened to your moans. “I want you.” She groaned as her leg moved against you at a growing pace. “Gods, I need you.”

You wanted more, you wanted her to feel as much as you were feeling and perhaps it could be a risky move, but you pulled her body closer and positioned Rhaenyra’s aching core against your own cunt, mimicking a scissoring motion. “Please yourself with me, Your Grace.” She repeated herself, both moaning to the feeling of their clits against each other.

Rhaenyra gasped at the feeling of your bodies pressed in this way, her breath catching in her throat. ”Gods.” The queen gagged, her eyes rolling back slightly as a low and heady moan escaped her. Her hands grasped for your hips and gripped them as she listened to your moans. “S-sweet g-girl…” She called out your name, rocking her cunt against yours.

You bounced your hips and created more friction against Rhaenyra’s intimacy, fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs, moaning in a perfect symphony.

Her whole body trembled as her hips rocked against yours, moans coming out of her mouth uncontrollably as she ground and rolled her hips into yours. Her breathing was shaky and uneven, her grasp on your hips tightening as she desperately tried to maintain her composure. Your moans and sighs of pleasure seemed to fuel her own, and she found herself moving faster against you, letting out a low, keening sound as she felt her climax building.

“I’m close…” You said, feeling that Rhaenyra was almost close as well. Both Queen and Princess moaned loudly as they rubbed their clits against each other and hips moved fast to increase their pleasure. You cried out, desperate for release.

Rhaenyra had her body shook, her breath coming out in sharp gasps and moans as she felt herself nearing her peak. She gasped and moaned loudly, her body arching into yours as they ground against each other, desperately chasing her release.

“Gods, I’m going to—“ The dragon queen gasped out, her whole body shuddering and shaking. Her fingers dug into your hips and held you tightly as her body twitched against yours.

Your body shaked violently through your climax as it hits the duo fastly. You moaned loudly on a desperate whine, trembling and rocking for the last time against Rhaenyra as the Queen peaked as well. Rhaenyra’s whole body arched as they both came together, moaning and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over her. She held onto you tightly, her breathing coming out in hot and shaky puffs as she rode her climax, riding it until her body fell, limp and trembling against you, completely spent.

As you finished, Rhaenyra gently kissed your cheek before pulling back and crawling closer to your face and body. Her own breathing was laboured and her body flush. "You're so beautiful when you fall apart, sweet girl." She whispered, leaning in to kiss your lips gently. You hugged Rhaenyra while you tried to recover from the intense orgasm. After it, you brushed her sweaty hair while Rhaenyra was still on top of you.

Rhaenyra laid against you, her body feeling heavy and limp as she slowly began to come down from her high, her breathing and heart rate slowly returning to normal. Her hair clung to her face from the beads of sweat, her lips pressed to the crook of your neck as she tried to catch her breath. ”Gods.” She whispered breathlessly.

You breathed heavily and tried to regulate along Rhaenyra and smiled, wiping the sweat from the Queen’s face. “That was intense, Your Grace…” You whispered back, breathless as well.

Rhaenyra let out a faint chuckle, lifting her face from your neck and looking down at you, a small smile on her lips as she gazed at you. “Very intense.” Rhaenyra agreed. Her fingers lifted and traced over your face, her eyes full of adoration and affection as she looked at you.

“I’ve never lost control like that.” She said quietly, her voice low and full of wonder. You smiled coyly at Rhaenyra and kissed her chin gently, still gazing at her.

Rhaenyra groaned softly as she felt your tender kiss. Her own hand clutched gently onto your shoulder, her nails slightly digging into your skin. "You'll ruin me, sweet girl." Rhaenyra whispered, caressing your hair as she stared at you in bed.

Now was your time to smirk at her face. You grabbed her chin and kissed it, enticing her imagination and internally trying to see if that really wasn’t a dream. You had her. Your wish was conceded. And it was good as the fantasy you indulge yourself in. “Good.” You then said, whispering in her ear and enduring your mischievous face. Rhaenyra giggled and pulled you closer, giving a peck to your lips. “You are mine now.”

And finally, you could admit with happiness. “I am yours.”

[beansandsprouts]

Sunshine

Female reader. Sparse use of y/n.

Summary: Growing up, Bucky never thought he'd find his soulmate. Years and years and years of searching. Even Steve had found his. But you were nowhere to be found. Until he was living in the Avengers Tower. Until you happened to join the team.

Warnings: none

Considering making this a series, let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next one. I may consider doing a bit of a rewrite of it all on my other fanfic blog and add in some sweet smut in there. Everything on this blog will be kept mostly PG.

Bucky was irritated. He didn't see why there had to be this big deal about a new team member. And he didn't understand why he had to be there. They hadn't been told much about you. All Tony had said was you were ex-military, and that everyone typically called you Grim. As in Grim Reaper. Bucky had to admit he was curious to know what earned you that nickname.

With a callsign like that, you had to be ruthless. Cold blooded. So he wasn't expecting this cute bubbly thing to practically skip in alongside Tony with a huge grin. Though he could tell that belt buckle you had on was hiding a knife.

He was immediately taken with you. He'd been a heartthrob in his younger years, had no shortage of women throwing themselves at him. Though he hadn't really been with anyone since being freed from Hydra, though he'd seen pretty women. You, however, were completely different.

The warmth of your smile and twinkle in your eyes made his chest warm. He admired the shape of your lips and the way your jaw curved. Even the little glimpse of your collarbone had him tingling with an unfamiliar excitement.

"Alright, everyone this is our new teammate. I'll let you introduce yourself." I gestured for you to step forward.

"Hi, nice to meet you all. Name's y/n but most just call me Grim." You offered a bright smile.

Bucky felt his heart skip a beat when you spoke your name. Hell everytime he heard that name he got his hopes up, and without fail they'd been dashed. There was no way it was you. You were technically a lot younger than him, it'd be ridiculous if you were his soulmate.

Right?

Everyone else immediately greeted you warmly, your sunshiney demeanor immediately brought a feeling of ease to everyone around you. It didn't take long before you and Steve were swapping combat stories. Bucky sat quietly the entire time, taking you in. He was hoping to get a glimpse of your soulmate mark, wondering if it'd be his name written in his messy writing. But your damned long sleeves obscured even the tiniest glimpse of it.

Your laugh was like music to his ears. He felt breathless hearing that beautiful sound and watching the way your face changed. You were gorgeous. Even the way you blinked had him enamored.

He swallowed hard as you giggled and playfully nudged Natasha when she made a joke. You hadn't even directly spoken to him yet and he was already absolutely whipped for you.

After a while, everyone dispersed, and Tony led you to your room. Which coincidentally was right across from Buckys.

He awkwardly stood in his doorway as he watched someone bring two duffels and a box into your room. You didn't have much. He had a feeling you had tactical gear in those duffels and a few sets of fatigues. He had to admit he was a bit surprised considering your bubbly personality. He thought you'd be the type to have a bunch of cutesy clothes to wear when you were off duty. And some pretty things to decorate your room.

Though to be fair you'd basically come straight here from the military. You'd hinted at having enhanced abilities, but Bucky doubted you'd been given the same serum as him or Steve. He had to admit he was excited to see what you were capable of.

You'd dropped the box on your bed and noticed Bucky across the hall.

"Hey! You're Bucky right?"

A bit embarrassed to have been caught watching, he just silently nodded.

"You're also a super soldier, yeah?"

He nodded again and you offered a soft smile.

"Steve's more the talker huh?"

Bucky huffed out a chuckle.

"Definitely." He responded.

It was the first time you'd heard him speak and it sent shivers down your spine and a heat between your legs. He'd caught your eye the moment you entered the common room, and now his room was straight across from his. If you had to describe the situation in one word it'd have to be "fucked." It woukd be heaven and torture to have such a gorgeous man living mere feet away from you.

"Well I look forward to spending more time together. I don't mind silence." You offered a sweet smile. You couldn't help but notice the way his cheeks tinged red at that, which you found incredibly adorable.

This was going to be an interesting experience.

Next Part

[hanmaitani]

Nice Guy

PAIRING - Kita Shinsuke x Reader WC - 6.1K GENRE - smut CW - consensual non-consent (cnc), degradation, creampie, breaking in, if you squint then implied stalking, kita acts real scummy in this and it’s hot, aftercare cause it’s important, reader referred to as 'sweet, baby, princess, whore' (THIS IS A PREDETERMINED SCENARIO SET UP BETWEEN THEM WHERE SHE HAS EXPLICITLY GIVEN CONSENT FOR HIM TO DO THIS AND HAS A SAFEWORD)

This fic was partially sponsored by @clerdecat in collaboration with @ficsforgaza please consider checking out the blog and efforts over there 🍉

Kita Shinsuke was the nicest guy at your university.

You could ask anybody in the school to describe him and you’d only get compliments.

Respectable. Honest. Good-natured. Patient. Beyond helpful. Thoughtful. The guy that parents wished their daughters would bring home. The one that girls fawned over and chided their boyfriends, begging them to be more like him. The boy that all boyfriends either glared at or took notes from.

Kita Shinsuke and all his enchanting traits who was, more often than not, the object of your innocent little daydreams.

Daydreams where you were exhausted after a long day of classes and would relax into his embrace. Where he would welcome you home with a soft and sweet kiss on the cheek and draw you a bath, cook you dinner as you relaxed in it, and give you a loving massage after you’ve eaten. Daydreams where he would do your skincare routine for you as you giggled and help you with your hair before bed.

Kita Shinsuke who worked the late shift at the university library. Voluntarily there every weekend night until it was closing time so his coworkers could go party. Unlike you, always there for reading instead of working. Reading and maybe the occasional chat with the university’s ‘golden boy’ as he took interest in whatever book you were reading for the night.

Kita Shinsuke.

The name repeated in your head like a sigh of contentment. Breathing like the repetition and softness that he displayed to everyone. The respectability and sureness, the reliability of him. You especially liked the protective nature of his closeness as he insisted on making sure you made it home from the library safe.

Tonight it was an accident, you being at the library all the way until closing. It was late even for you, almost midnight on the chilly weekend night. He’d kept you talking in the empty library until you both had lost track of time. The minutes ticking by too quickly for you to realize.

Your heart had fluttered when his deep voice had soothed over your apologies for being there even a minute after closing. He’d insisted that you wait the extra half an hour in the warmness of the library as he closed up his stations and put away a few books, locking up before he walked you home. He wanted to make sure you were safe, that you got home okay this late in the night.

When he’d finally locked the front door and took your lead towards your campus apartment, your cheeks had gone warm, despite the cold air of the night, as he’d lent you his scarf to wrap around your neck as he walked with you. It smelled like him as you tucked your chin into the fabric, hiding your smile.

It was a short walk from the library to your campus apartment, but he made sure to keep you talking the entire way. Small, idle chatter that pulled small laughs from both of your lips. Your breaths and his made small clouds in the air every time, a testament to how chilly it was outside. He walked close to you, almost as if he was supposed to be right there, like it was a routine, and you reveled in it. It fueled another little fantasy about him always walking you home to ensure that no one but him would have even a chance to bother you.

“This is my building,” you whispered the words quietly, sweetly, almost with regret to an end to the sweet time you’d spent with him as you gestured to the building the two of you had finally come upon. “I’m on the first floor, there.” You pointed in the direction of your first floor apartment and he smiled as he led you down the correct outdoor hallway of the building.

You smiled as he stopped in front of your door. You didn’t quite register that he had stopped in front of the door before you had, despite you having not indicated exactly which of the doors was yours. You were too focused on how sweet he had been to you, too attached to the dizziness from having the ‘golden boy’ give you so much attention. Too focused on the way the fog curled out of his lips from his hot breaths as he looked down at you, standing too close if it had been anyone else.

But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Kita Shinsuke. The nicest boy on campus. And he would never do anything to hurt you. Never cross a boundary.

“This is me,” you whispered softly with a small laugh and he gave you one in response.

“Seems t’be, yeah.” He smiled down at you and you swore that your heart melted a little bit more, the gesture warming you up inside slightly. “Don’t wanna keep yer roomie waitin’,” he joked as you hesitated to bring your keys to the door, enjoying his presence in the space just outside of your door a little too much.

“Oh,” you laughed lightly as you waved dismissively, as if to shoo his worries away when you brought your keys up to the lock, “no need to worry about that. She went home for the whole weekend.” You missed the sparkle of excitement in his eye as you fiddled with twisting the lock on your door, the look already replaced with a look of worry by the time you looked back at him.

“You sure that you’ll be ‘kay all ‘lone in there?” He leaned slightly, peeking around you as you opened the door, his tone perfectly laced with worry.

“I’ll be okay, Kita-san,” you answered politely, smiling at him over your shoulder. “Thank you so much for making sure I got home safe.” You stepped inside easily, turning to face him again as he leaned against the wall just outside your door. “I can’t think of how I could possibly properly repay you.” You were smiling and looking up at him shyly as you tucked yourself against your door.

Kita loved when you looked up at him like that. You did it often without your knowledge at the library too. Innocently putting all your faith and trust in him, batting pretty eyelashes up at him.

“I’ll see you next time, Kita-san.” Your smile didn’t leave as you began to shut the door.

The door stopped just before it was closed, your eyes darting up in confusion and widening as you saw Kita’s fingers wrapped around it, catching it and cracking it back open so you could see each other again. You felt your body freeze, unease slipped into your muscles, tensing them as you watched the door creep back open.

Kita thinks that maybe he liked this look on you a little bit more. Your eyes wide, fear starting to invade your features as you mentally questioned why he was making such a bold move.

His hand came up to the back of his neck, imitating sheepish nature as he gave a gentle smile, intent on soothing your nerves. “Sorry, y/n, would ya mind if I stole back m’scarf fer m’own walk home?”

You laughed, the sound mixing with a breath of relief, your body immediately relaxing at the sight of his smile and the sound of his request. Your cheeks heated up at the fact that you’d just let the sweetest boy on campus scare you because you’d forgotten about the possession of his currently wrapped around your neck.

“I’m so sorry, of course,” you sighed and reached to unwind it from your neck. Kita’s hands found the fabric first.

You froze again, but this time due to his closeness as he looked down at you, his warm fingers a stark contrast against your cold skin as he unwound the fabric from your neck. You swallowed hard from your own nervousness. He was so close you could feel his breath ghosting across your skin and he could faintly smell the sweet scent of your conditioner in the air around you.

Your eyes were trained on his face, locked onto his features in shock. His own, however, were trained on the empty apartment behind you, taking in what he could see from the doorway.

“Y’kmow,” he mused, side-stepping slightly, “I wanted t’make sure y’got home alright. Wouldn’ feel right, leavin’ y’here ‘lone.” Your joints began to lock up again as you watched him place a hand on your shoulder and step past you, his body moving fluidly as he crossed the threshold into your apartment.

“Stay here for a sec,” he requested, gesturing to the door, “with all the break-ins lately, jus’ wanna make sure yer ‘partment’s empty.” The warm smile he shot you eased some of that ice in your body as he moved around the apartment on his own.

He was just trying to make sure you were safe. That’s what you were telling yourself. There had been a lot of break-ins around campus in the last month. Kita Shinsuke was just living up to the title of nicest boy on campus.

You took a deep breath to relax yourself as you hovered in the front entrance of your own apartment like he’d requested of you.

He was just ensuring your safety and you smiled at that. He was so kind and it did absolutely nothing to quell the little fantasies poking in your mind about coming home to him in a house the two of you owned. Of him helping you make dinner or walking you to classes.

Innocent little fantasies compared to the ones he was currently entertaining.

Because Kita Shinsuke, the nicest boy on campus, was currently looking at your bed as he ‘ensured no one was in the room’, and thinking about how you would look laid out under him on top of it. Kita Shinsuke, the nicest boy on campus, who had to shake the thought out of his head and remember what he was supposed to be doing. Checking locks on your windows and making sure that everything was in order, that no one was there to hurt you when he wasn’t there.

“All clear.” He laughed lightly as he came back into your view, checking one last window in your kitchen. The window that pointed out towards the open road behind your apartment. “I’d blame myself if somethin’ happened t’ya.” His charming smile sent a wave of warmth and comfort through you as you watched him make his way easily back to your front door, keeping his hands to himself as he went this time. “Keep yerself safe fer me t’night, m’kay?”

He winked soft;y as he passed you again and you nodded along obediently, giddiness flooding your body at the thought of him caring that much about you. “Thank you, Kita-san.” You looked at him dreamily as you leaned on the door, watching him turn to face you again, now back on the outside of your home.

“You should call me Shinsuke,” he gave a soft laugh as your expression morphed into surprise at the request, “if I could keep calling you, y/n.”

“Um-” you cleared your throat quickly, picking up your dropped jaw to help preserve whatever was left of your composure, “yes of course. Thank you, Shinsuke.” His name came off your tongue like honey and he smiled as he heard it. “I’ll see you around.”

He only nodded in response this time, turning to walk away and leaving you in your doorway, still enraptured by the interaction. You were sure to heed his request and lock the door after him, perfectly content and feeling safe now that he had made sure you would be okay here alone.

It made it easy for you to go to sleep, knowing that, even though you were unusually alone in the space, Kita Shinsuke himself had made sure you would be safe. Easy to go to sleep still fantasizing about Kita Shinsuke walking you home all the time, always there to keep you safe.

Campus at 2am was much less populated than campus just before midnight. Dead, really.

With fog creeping down the streets, the only people really to be seen out at this time were the boys sneaking home from their girls’ apartments and the students who lost track of time at the 24-hour study hall while doing last-minute studying for that exam that they’d forgotten about until the night before.

On a weekend night like tonight, there were a few students who were drunkenly making their way back to their apartments after deciding the party they were at didn’t warrant them staying the night like most decided to do. All of those, and then the ones who were up to no good…

Kita Shinsuke wasn’t usually one to be out around campus at 2am. He never fell into the above categories. He ran by a fairly strict routine and rarely broke it. And if someone were to claim they’d seen him walking in the dark, along the open street that ran behind the campus apartments? Well… no one would believe them.

But Shinsuke knew what he was doing. He knew where he was going. He knew exactly which kitchen window he’d checked on just two hours before. The window he also knew that you wouldn’t double check before going to bed.

Because Shinsuke knew his reputation. He knew he was the nicest guy on campus and that you believed he had nothing but well-meaning intentions behind his charming smile.

He also knew that at 2am, you would be sound asleep. All safe and tucked into your bed. The very bed that he so desperately wanted to see you laid out on.

All for him. Only for him.

Shinsuke knew what he was doing as he popped the screen off the kitchen window to your apartment. The screen he’d discreetly loosened as he’d checked the window earlier in the night. Knew what he was doing when he slowly slid the window open, the one he’d left open just enough for you to not notice. The window creaked slightly as it graced along the track.

Shinsuke thought that you were incredibly naive to have put so much trust in him to not even double check his work when he’d entered your apartment without permission so easily. Incredibly naive to have fallen asleep so easily when you were so alone and the protection that you usually kept in your nightstand was no longer there.

That was something else you’d failed to notice from his earlier visit.

It was all too easy to slip his slim body through the window and onto your kitchen counter, submerging himself in the darkness of your apartment.

You had been sound asleep. Right up until the point when a loud crash woke you.

Shooting up from bed, a small gasp on your lips and your eyes wide. You tried to take in the surroundings of your room all at once. Your room was only illuminated lightly by the light that filtered in from the streetlights through the cracks in your blinds.

For a moment you thought that maybe you’d hallucinated the sound that woke you. Only a for moment, though. Because then you heard the sound of crunching class under boots almost echoing in your ears.

You scrambled out of bed quickly, yanking open the drawer to your nightstand to search it. Your fingers froze when they couldn’t find the safety net that was supposed to be there. Your eyes snapped back to the closed door of your bedroom as the steps came closer.

You quickly found yourself tucking yourself into the closet, the first place you could think to hide. You pulled the shades closed and ducked down low, trying to make yourself as small as possible. Sudden terror pulsed through your veins as the door to your room creeped open and you held your breath.

A familiar head of silver and black hair peeked its way into your room and you nearly breathed out a sigh of relief to see Shinsuke.

Nearly.

Because then you realized that Shinsuke had no way to get into your apartment unless he’d left himself a way when he was there earlier. Your eyes flickered to your open nightstand and where your protection was supposed to be, a sinking feeling settled in your stomach as you heard the nicest guy on campus chuckle when he stared at your empty bed.

“Oh y/n,” he singsonged your name as he stepped past the door to the closet you were hiding in. The sound set goosebumps rising along your neck. “Come out, come out.” He had to stop himself from laughing at the cliche statement as he said it.

You watched as he placed his palm on your bed to lean over and check under it. You knew the closet would be next and so you made a move. Quickly pushing open the door and trying to make a break for it.

Shinsuke smiled as he heard your panicked breathing, your quick footsteps racing to your living room.

This was the best part.

His longer legs quickly caught up to you. His hand grabbed you by the arm, pulling you against the wall and caging you against it.

Against that innocent look of faith and trust he loved that you gave him. Against that look he liked more, where fear slightly covered your face as you questioned his rather bold actions. He knew he liked this look on you the most.

You looked up at him, tears starting to well up in your still tired eyes, your every feature emanating the utter terror that you felt being pinned against the wall. The look of betrayal across your face.

Yes. he loved this look on you most of all.

You couldn’t seem to move. Your mind suddenly wiped of every self-defense tactic you’d ever been taught. There was a predatory smirk painted across his lips, much different than the charming smile that usually sat there. His deceptively kind eyes were calculating your every movement as you shook in your spot.

“Wha’s the matter, sweet?” His hand comes up to brush gentle fingers against your jaw and he tsks at you as you flinch away, turning your head to look away from him.

“Please, Kita-san.” You’re whispering it, begging.

He only clicks his tongue in disappointment at you again. “I told ya,” he chides, suddenly gripping your chin in a harsh grip, turning it and forcing you to look at him again. He ignores the soft whimper you make at the pain and the shake he can feel in your chest as you hold back a small cry. “Call me, Shinsuke.”

He can’t help the way his thoughts turn to how you look so adorable like this; your lips trembling as you try not to cry, still not fully awake and trying to process why exactly the campus ‘nice guy’ currently had you caged against a wall.

He sighs softly and brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, pulling it down before letting it pop back into place. “It sounds s’pre’y comin’ off yer lips.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. “Please, Sinsuke,” your voice stressed his name, shaking and wet with tears, “just let me go, please.”

“But baby,” he put on a fake pout as he looked down at you, hand coming gracefully wrapping around your throat, “ya wanted t’repay me fer earlier.” He let a sly smile cross his lips as your eyes widened realizing you’d said just that to him earlier.

That you couldn’t think of how you could possibly properly repay him.

He squeezed your throat slightly for your attention, pulling a small squeak out of you and regretfully sending a wave down your core. “Gonna tell me ya ne’er thought ‘bout me like this?” He smirked as you looked away shamefully, he was right, of course your fantasies weren’t always innocent, that sometimes they strayed. But this was more than you’d ever thought of. “Hmm, what I thought.”

“Sinsuke,” your breath hitched around his name as he pressed his body against yours, desperate to feel you more, his fingers easily brushing the bare skin between your loose top and shorts, “please. Just let me go.” You let out a soft sob, fresh tears coating your cheeks. “I won’t tell anyone.” You tried to pull yourself further away from him, but he persisted in pressing against you.

“Course ya won’t,” he chuckled, his lips coming down to nip at your ear, reveling in the way you flinched away from the action. “Who’s gon’ believe ya? The nicest guy on campus.” His laugh sounded deep in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, stiffening your joints, turning your limbs to lead.

No one would believe you.

Kita Shinsuke, the most respectable boy on campus, currently had you trapped against the wall in your apartment. The apartment he had broken into while you were sleeping. The action clearly having been planned for at least a few hours.

“C’mon, tell me, princess,” he mumbled against your skin, “how ya don’t want it.”

Shinsuke took a step back from you, removing his presence completely, just under a foot between you now. His eyes were taunting you, challenging you to run.

You did.

You willed your legs to move, peeling yourself from the wall and taking off towards the front door. Desperate to make it away from him. You made it to the boundary, your fingers fumbling to undo the deadbolt.

Your hand had just wrapped around the handle, just about to pull the door towards you when his strong arms wrapped around your waist. His muscles flexed and easily lifted you up as you kicked at the air. His hand clapping over your mouth to stop you as you went to scream, the sound now muffled by his palm.

He only laughed in your ear as he turned with you, walking your kicking form back to the bedroom. “Oh, knew ya’d run. Yer s’cute tryna get ‘way like that.”

Fearful tears washed over your cheeks, collecting along the top of his large hand, which was fully covering the bottom half of your face, muffling your cries and keeping your head pinned to his broad shoulder.

It was pathetic even to you, how easily he carried you back to your room as your hands tried to pry at his arms and your legs swung wildly, trying to get his grip to loosen. Pathetic and useless.

“Now, now,” Shinsuke cooed in your ear, his voice dropping lower by an octave as he nudged your ear with his nose, “calm down.” That was an order. You could hear it in the growl of his voice, that sent a cold chill down your spine.

Fight or flight or freeze. Your body couldn’t seem to choose between the three options, it was confusing and disorienting and you cried harder.

His hand slipped from your face to close around your neck, applying a deadly pressure against the sides of it. “Stop strugglin’ yeah?” The sound of it sent your head into a dizzy. The pressure was immediately building, starting with your ears, muting sound slightly, and pushing past your eyes, making things spin slightly. You could feel the blood flow slow down.

A strangled cry left your throat, “Kita-san, please.”

“Please what?” he mocked, his tone condescending as he watched the small sobs as they shook your body. “Please take ya?” he smiled as you tried to shake his head in a violent protest to his tight grip. “Tha’s what ya wan’ right?” He pressed a deceivingly soft kiss into your neck as he stood in front of your side of the bed. “I see ya lookin’ at me when yer thinkin’ I’m not payin’ attention.”

You whimpered in shame, of course you had. You didn’t know a single girl, or even guy, that didn’t look at him when he wasn’t looking. It wasn’t even a question that he was ridiculously attractive. The campus nice guy… supposed nice guy.

“Please. Please,” you begged more, shaking your head frantically.

“Shut up,” he growled out before tossing you down on the bed. You didn’t even wait for your body to stop bouncing before you were trying to crawl away from him, scrambling across the sheets to reach the other side and get yourself out.

You’d thought you’d almost made it but his hands wrapped around your ankles and yanked you back. You let out a small scream as your hands scrambled to grip the other edge of the bed, just out of reach as he dragged you back to him.

There was a throaty groan that left his lips, “the more ya fight, the rougher I gotta be with ya.” He laughed again as he moved his grip to your thighs, prying them apart as you struggled to keep them closed and placing himself between them. “But hey, maybe ya like it rough.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice as you cried out again, the sound of fabric ripping turning into cold wind felt against your hips now, your destroyed shorts falling away from your body. The low whistle he let out told you that he now knew you’d gone to bed without any panties on under those shorts he just ruined, that your entire lower half was now visible to him.

You tried harder, struggled more to close your thighs, but his hands kept your hips pinned to the bed and his own knees kept your legs stuck open. It felt like he’d done this before, the positioning too perfect, too impossible to escape from.

“Please,” you whimpered, “please no,” you tried to beg as your hands came back behind you, trying to pry his own away from your body. “I don’t, I don’t like it rough.”

“No?” he asked, his tone low, mocking, curious, and you thought that maybe you’d succeeded at removing one of his hands from you. But instead, a gasp ripped from your throat as you felt his cold fingers drag easily along your slit, your shame coating them easily and aiding in how they glided against your most sensitive areas. He leaned over you, lips placed next to your ear, body weight pinning you to the bed as he easily slid a finger inside of your cunt, the sound of it squelching echoing around the room. “Then why’re ya s’wet like this?”

You whimpered at the humiliation of it. You didn’t know why your body was betraying you like this. Why your hips twitched when he curled that one finger inside of you. You were frightened by this side of Shinsuke, fresh tears dripping down to your chin. But your body still responded…

“Like a bitch in heat.” Shinsuke laughed and leaned off of you only slightly.

Your whispered pleas for him to stop did nothing to the affect you wanted, they only served to make him harder as he quickly pulled himself out of the sweats he’d worn over. He had one hand on the back of your neck, effectively keeping your upper body pinned as you tried to futilely kick your legs.

“Stay still now, sweet.” He was smiling down at you, small and helpless under him, legs spread so he could see just how embarrassingly wet you were getting from him forcing himself onto you.

Your slick glistened against the tops of your inner thighs and tears dripped into your mouth as you cried and begged, pleaded for him to let you go.

He loved you like this.

He lined himself up, considering his options.

“S’might hurt.” He didn’t give you time to process his statement, the warning before he shoved himself inside of you in one single thrust. No prep. No time to adjust to the feeling of being impaled on his length.

Shinsuke didn’t think it was possible for him to get any harder than he already was, but the sound of the scream that ripped through your body, the immediate freezing of all your muscles as your body struggled to process the abrupt and painful stretch proved him wrong.

“Fuck, baby.” He crumbled slightly, a broken moan seeping through his lips when you let out your own sinful moan against your will, fingernails digging into the forearms that caged around you, keeping you pinned in place for him. “So fuckin’ tight and wet fer me,” he mumbled against your skin.

Suddenly, remembering your predicament, you cried out and moved to try and shove his hips back from yours. “Stop, please,” your voice was a broken whimper, softer than before and using the rest of your willpower to beg the words.

“Yer right,” he pulled out slowly and you, naively, thought, for even just a second, that he was letting you go. He thrust back into you roughly and groaned when you cried out again. “I should be movin’ fer ya, let ya really feel it.”

He gripped your wrists from where they tried to push at his hips and pushed them down closer to the mattress before yanking them backwards, effectively manhandling your body and forcing you to lift your hips off the bed and into the air for him. He used his grip on your wrists to yank you back against the thrusts of his cock as he buried it deep inside of you, bullying that soft spot inside of you that had stars spinning behind your eyes.

“Listen t’how that slutty little cunt sounds fer me, she’s beggin’ t’be treated like this,” he mocked over the sound of your cries, drawing attention to the wet noise that echoed every time his balls hit your clit.

You hated it. Hated your body. Hated how good it felt to have the head of his cock slamming against your insides, forcing the breath out of your body along with cries. Pleas for him to stop. You hated the way you could feel that familiar curling in your gut as he ignored your pleas.

Hated the painful stretch from the lack of prep, the burning pressure from his hands locked around your wrists, the cock that was fucking into you with reckless abandon, hated that it all added up to that coil tightening, begging to be undone.

“Feel how ya squeeze me?” he groaned lightly as he forced himself to fuck into you faster. “Feel s’fuckin’ ‘mazin’.” Your cries built up, louder and louder, but he only laughed, clinging to the way those cries mixed in with your moans and gasps, sounds you couldn’t control.

He could feel your body about to cum, tuning into all the signs. He could almost feel the shame that pooled in your chest at that fact, too, and how it dripped out of you right onto his cock, making it easier for him to fuck you faster, harder, deeper. He was determined to fuck you through your orgasm, to rip it out of you and still not stop.

You could feel yourself cumming before you could even process what was happening, your muscles squeezing and fresh tears falling down your cheeks, moans bubbling from your lips as you begged him to stop or let you go.

“Shut up,” he growled, releasing your wrists and switching his grip to your hips instead. He pulled them up so your body was forced onto its knees. Keeping one hand on your hips, his other found your throat again, picking up your upper body and pinning it to his chest with that vice grip.

“Actin’ like ya didn’t jus’ cum like a whore on my cock,” he groaned the words into your ear, his voice dark and rough with pleasure, “and yet gonna do it again.”

Your head felt fuzzy from the pressure of his hand around your throat, restricting airflow and blood flow just enough that you could feel everything more intensely as he continued to pound into you.

Sound was muffled as it reached your ears, your vision blurred from either tears or pleasure or both. But you were explicitly aware of the way your body tensed under and gave into his rough treatment. Of the way your second orgasm built inside of you, coiling up tightly and quickly, more every time that the new angle he was fucking you at caused the head of his cock to slam into a soft sensitive part of you, sparking both pain and pleasure across your insides.

“Fuck, fuck,” he moaned in your ear, “wanna fill ya up,” your brain seemed to go even fuzzier at the sound of the words and you whimpered. “Tell me ya wanna be filled up by me,” he ordered and the words fell from your lips almost immediately, obediently.

Tears continued to fill your vision and stars circled around your room, the light-headedness from Shinsuke’s hand around your throat helped the moans fall from your lips easier. “Wanna feel y’cum,” you slurred the words, feeling like your brain was turning off from the way he expertly handled your body.

A soft chuckle barely registered in your ears as his hand left your hip and found its way to your clit, rubbing tight circles as he fucked you over the edge again.

You were barely aware that you were cumming again, your body acting on its own. Soft words of “good girl” whispered in your ear put a blissed out smile on your lips as he came inside of you. You were barely aware of him pulling out, the cum starting to leak out of you, dripping down your thighs.

His hand unwound from your throat and your body softly hit the bed. Sound blared back to its normal volume as you laid on the bed panting, trying to catch your breath. The feeling of Shinsuke’s body hitting the bed next to you was paired with his own heavy breathing, just as out of breath as you were.

There was about a minute of silence between you before you finally spoke up. “I loved those shorts. You owe me a new pair.” Your voice was hoarse from the noises you’d previously been making, breathy from your panting, but surprisingly still there.

He laughed then, not menacing like it had been before, but a soft and amused sound the way it usually was. You turned your head to the side to look at him. He was lying on his back next to you, soft smile on his face. “I told ya not t’wear things ya liked,” he teased lightly, turning to catch your eyes. His predatory gaze had softened and was replaced with one filled with love.

His fingers lifted to graze along the soft freckle-like bruises near your eyes. “I wen’ t’hard,” he mumbled, frowning at himself as he assessed the damage his hand had done to your throat. His eyes trailed down and spotted the bruises starting to form on your wrists and hips, no doubt your ankles too, but you shook your head at him.

“No,” you assured him, shifting closer to him, “I liked it, Shinsuke, promise.” You hummed as he gingerly wrapped his arms around you. Touches much softer now than they had just been, treating you like you might break now, although they’d tried only minutes prior to be the things that would break you.

“Let me get ya some ice?” he asked, rubbing soothing circles into the skin of your shoulders as he held you.

You shook your head lightly, “in a bit?” He hummed in agreement and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I love you, Shin,” you whispered as you buried your head into your boyfriend’s chest.

You missed the soft smile that passed his lips now, “I love ya too, princess.”

Kita Shinsuke. The nicest guy at your university.

You could ask anybody in the school to describe him and you’d only get compliments.

Respectable. Honest. Good-natured. Patient. Beyond helpful. Thoughtful. The guy that parents wished their daughters would bring home. The one that girls fawned over and chided their boyfriends, begging them to be more like him. The boy that all boyfriends either glared at or took notes from.

Kita Shinsuke.

Who, if you tried to tell them, no one would believe that he does nasty things to his girlfriend in the dead of night. That he would break into her apartment if she asked him to and force her to get fucked stupid while she begged for him to stop. And no one would believe that he liked it too.

But Kita Shinsuke was in love with every part of you. Especially when he could have you in his arms. Any way he could.

a/n please remember that aftercare is important on both sides for things like this <3 assure your partner that things are okay after and take care of each other!! consent is important!!

TAGLIST -

@intergalacticrory @tsukiran @awkwardaardvarkforever @all-in-the-fandoms @mightyknight501

@pearl-blue-musings @qichun @megumuro @s0uldarling @samus-onigiri-stand

@seiri-ously @deepenthevoid @albakugo @winniethepooh-lover @stunie

@little-miss-naill @theycallmenanamisgirl

[itsmiyamore]

— thief

"You're just a thief, who stole all my moves and used them on me." — inspired by Thief by Maisie Peters

a/n: it's my darling boy's birthday!!! I think I wrote this fic before even starting this blog, so this is a super duper secret from-the-vault work that I've been gatekeeping for years hehe, but I figured what better way to celebrate Oikawa's birthday than by finally sharing it with you all?! Most of it is still from the original version I wrote years ago, just with some slight revamping and editing (ty @dear-koi for beta reading!); I really mean it when I say this is my baby and I'm proud, I hope you all love her as much as I do! :)

Warning: reader is gender neutral, but Oikawa's other love interest is fem

-> this is not part of the @/ficsforgaza initiative, but please consider sponsoring another wip!

"Hey, pretty." Oikawa Tooru slides into the seat of the desk in front of you, facing you. He smiles softly, resting his chin on his hand. Your heart flutters at the nickname, forever unused to the delicate attention Oikawa so graciously bestows upon you.

"Hey, yourself," you say softly, admiring the way Oikawa's eyes perfectly catch the sunlight. The flecks in his eyes take the shape of a flower around his irises, and you think it's the prettiest bloom you've ever seen.

Oikawa shifts and you watch, entranced, as he caresses the side of your face. His hand grazes yours, softly tracing the back of it—like silk fluttering in the wind. He turns it, intertwining his fingers with yours.

The morning sun comes through the classroom window and warms your skin, but your entire body soars with his touch. There’s a hush in the world as Oikawa hums, playing with your hand, admiring the way your fingers interlock. He looks fascinated, and maybe even a bit surprised you're letting him fiddle with them, and your heart thumps with the way he looks at you with the utmost adoration.

Oikawa handles you like you're made of fragile porcelain, wrapping your heart in thick blankets. He has always been careful with everything he does, but the way he treats your heart is so delicate, so pure.

Oikawa is your first love, and so, your only love. He never says it, and you never force the topic, but he cares so deeply for you it shakes you to your core. Everyone can tell; they'd be stupid not to. "Love," is the word they whisper as you walk down the halls with him trailing after you. “Love," is what his friends tease when they think you're out of earshot. And Oikawa just smiles that smile he knows you love because you turn back to wave, thinking yes, Oikawa loves you.

There's a special spot on the beach you both like to go to.

The glassy waves reflect the golden sky and the rolling clouds—the gentle sounds filling your ears, mouth going numb from ice cream on teeth. The waves lap up the pier and you glance at Oikawa sitting next to you, whose eyes are locked onto the boats disappearing in the distance.

As the stars begin to twinkle, you shiver, and he gives you his jacket, muttering something under his breath as he zips it up. His eyebrows are furrowed and his nose scrunches up, and something about the gesture is so endearing that you can't help but laugh.

He glances up, startled at first, then a faint smile of amusement appears as he watches you giggle. Your breath hitches as he leans in, something else blooming in your chest as the tips of your noses meet and his forehead rests against yours, your senses overflowing with him.

He stays for a moment, and you wonder what would happen if you leaned in.

But he pulls away and you can't help but wrap your arms around yourself and shiver, feeling colder than ever.

You're naive, you think, as you watch your castle crumble like sand under the ocean's unforgiving waves. Your world is slipping through your fingers and you're grasping, but he's gone.

And you realize that you'd become spoiled on a love that was never really yours to begin with.

Oikawa met her where he met you: by the shore of the ocean (your spot that you shared with him), skipping stones—a prom queen and heartbreaker jeans, a romance just waiting to happen, adorned with something precious and real.

You hate it. You hate the way he writes over the memories of you—replaces them with a shinier, prettier version—with the girl he says he's in love with.

The girl he is in love with.

You're angry at Oikawa for giving you the illusion of being royalty, and you're bitter, resentful, and angry at yourself for building up your hopes. Sometimes you can't help but wish you had it in you to tear them apart—to fight for Oikawa and maybe get to keep him—but when it comes down to it, you just can’t. You're not mean.

You're just unfortunately, irrevocably, hopelessly in love.

He's happy; you can see it in the way he hums as he walks to class or smiles out of nowhere. He's happy, and it kills you because it's no longer because of you—was it ever because of you?—but you would rather have the crumbs of his affection than nothing at all. It works—at least a little bit—you whisper to yourself, tearing your gaze away. But you can't help but pity yourself and your lonely little heart that was too drunk on fantasies to realize they were never meant to be.

Sometimes, you wish you had told him as you watch him go, hand in hand with her—smiling at her like he did with you, caressing her face like he did with you. He never knew, or maybe he always did.

He leaves anyway, and it hurts all the same.

I miss you like mental, you think as you look out to where memory has taken you. The sunset is beautiful, glittering on the ocean's surface, blissfully unaware that something sacred has been brutally taken from you. It's a curse that your heart does not know how to let go.

You loathe it.

You walk onto the pier, shivering as you wrap your arms around yourself. You try to remember the weight of Oikawa's jacket around your shoulders, the warmth of his body as he pulled you close, his fingers intertwined with yours. There's so much you would give—you sigh as you pick up a stone, turning it over in your palm before tossing it, watching as it skips over the water. There's so much you would give to feel his love again; and you cross your heart, hope to die, that you won't go insane with the way you miss him.

But maybe you already have.

There must be a cure, you think, for all the lonely, pathetic people who spilled their hearts out to pretty thieves who changed their minds.

Oikawa loved you, and you have no one else to blame but yourself for thinking that meant he was in love with you.

No one to blame but yourself for believing his beautiful, silver-lined words and bewitching gestures—like a sailor, doomed from the start to follow the siren to your death. There’s nothing but leftover hopes and wishes piled up like meaningless dunes of sand inside you, and as they begin to spill out of your eyes, you decide you won't keep them for him anymore. 

"Goodbye," you whisper to the gentle waves, small ripples fading as the only remaining evidence of your heartbreak. A simple promise you make as you turn your back, swearing off all the places and things he made you love.

Maybe you'll be back one day. Maybe one day after you've stitched yourself up in a slow, clumsy way because you don’t have his delicate fingers to guide your own.

Maybe one day, when you're finally alright.

[klausysworld]

Hey, I was hoping I could make a request for a Klaus story?

Idk if you’ve ever written Omegaverse but I was thinking Y/n is an Omega (something that’s a rarity in this time) who’s hiding as a Beta by using suppressants. No one knows she’s a Beta except her mother who helped her hide it before she died.

Klaus and his family settled in Mystic Falls after that business with their mother and Klaus meets Y/n and immediately knows what she is, he can smell her as not only a very strong Alpha but a hybrid. He knows she’s meant to be his, as in over 1000 years he’s never found an Omega that calls to him like she does and his wolf screams and howls in his head for him to take their Omega.

He’s obsessed and desperate for her, leaving her flowers and gifts with cards that make it obvious that he knows what she is which scares her until he introduces himself. She’s instantly taken with him knowing that he’s her Alpha but the needy feeling is scary for her since it’s never happened with anyone else, though he lets her know it wouldn’t have because he’s her Alpha, no one else (Possessive Klaus). Yet she takes comfort in his caring gestures and urge to provide for her (maybe he brings her food often to ensure she eats, constantly trying to touch her in soft ways to scent her and kiss her cheeks, nose, forehead, etc, always trying to snuggle close and holding her close in his arms when she drifts off to sleep in his presence).

Some smut when he finally wins her over would be perfect?

I don’t see much Omegaverse stuff with Klaus (which is odd considering he’s an Alpha wolf) apart from one other blog so I really hope you like it🤞🏻🤞🏻

Instincts and suppressants

A thousand years ago there was a mix of alpha, beta and omega wolves within a pack.

Omegas were generally kind, shy, sweet, smart, and hard working little wolves that would typically be claimed by an alpha wolf or a very lucky beta. They tended to gravitate to alphas more though for their instincts told them that they would take better care of them.

However through the years, due to the hatred and wars between vampires and werewolves, the bloodsuckers found that killing an alphas omega was the best way to destroy a pack’s stability. An alpha who loses their omega becomes a shell of who they were and the whole pack will suffer in grief and torment.

And the more scarce omegas came, the more sacred they were. Packs who had an omega would lock them up, keep them safe and protected at all costs. But it only gave the wolves a main weakness.

And so the wolves themselves found it best to kill their own omegas if they had one to ensure that they were not tortured in later life and that the pack would not fall because of one death.

As the years passed by, being an omega was no longer a wonderful but instead something that parents feared their children would inherit.

Most parents who had an omega child would want rid of it.

And y/n’s father was one of them but her mother couldn’t let that happen. She wouldn’t lose her baby just because she was a little different from the other wolves. The pack banished them but it meant nothing to y/n’s mom. She had witches make suppressants to hide her little girls traits.

Y/n’s scent was no longer as desirable as it should’ve been, she was unable to produce that lovely purr and her heats were taken away. Her mother knew that it was risky, if y/n were to stop taking the suppressants then all her pheromones would be a amplified massively. Her first heat would hit her hard and both alphas and betas would instantly recognise her.

And as y/n grew up, she understood the importance of keeping herself away from other wolves, to hide herself and be quiet as to not drag herself into any trouble.

When her mother passed away, it made y/n’s life all the more harder.

It meant that she had to take care of herself entirely and that meant going out into the world and facing society. And it turned out people were just as scary as she had imagined.

———————————————————————

A thousand years ago Niklaus used to watch the wolves turn and treat each other as family. Something within him called out to them and he longed to have the relationship dynamic that he saw with so many of them. He loved how an alphas omega would cling to their side and depend on them.

Over the centuries Klaus had tried to find an omega but with his wolf side locked away, they didn’t have the instinctual need for him. They weren’t as connected as they should have been. He didn’t feel as though he deserved to take an omega wolf away from their pack just for his own needs and he couldn’t bare the thought of an omega hating him for taking them away.

He regretted his decision regularly when the breed seemingly died out. He missed his chance. Or so he thought he knew.

Which is why when he saw her, everything changed.

———————————————————————

One inhale was all it took and his wolf was going absolutely mental.

His head spun and his limbs grew heavy, his bones ready to snap and let his wolf take over if he didn’t move immediately.

Get her. Get her. Get her. Get her. Get her.

His wolf cried over and over, howling through his mind like a siren.

His eyes landed on her quickly.

She was swift as she made her way past people, avoiding contact or conversation as she hurried on by. He followed from a safe distance, watching her rush into her home and triple lock her door. She closed her curtains immediately and he heard her heart thump away as she paced the length of her kitchen.

Omegas need to be pampered.

His wolf told him and he agreed.

She needs to feel pretty. Loved.

Klaus was quick to get her some flowers. White lilies and daisies to symbolise innocence and sweetness, purity and lasting love.

He listened to the light pattering of her footsteps as she came to the door after he rang the bell only to find nobody standing behind it. Her heart raced in her ears and anxiety washed over her. She tentatively lifted the flowers in their pretty box and breathed in their natural aroma. Her teeth nibbled her lower lip lightly as she slowly backed into her house with the gift in her arms.

He was a little worried of how easily afraid she was but also found it to be a level of adorable to how innocent and shy she was to the world surrounding her.

He found that she only left her home when she absolutely needed to, he sometimes wondered if perhaps she was mute with how silent she was each day. He would hear the chatter of her tv and the change in pace of her heart but rarely her voice. Only when she was being polite to those at the shops or when her neighbours gave small conversations. She was so softly spoken, so timid in each thing that she did that his wolf was screaming to have her in his arms. To tell her everything’s okay, he’ll keep her safe.

To begin with he was certain that his presents were an added joy to her days but he noticed how her anxiety would peak with each passing note that mentioned her kind, pure soul. How she didn’t tend to eat the treats he left for her out of presumably fear that they contained something harmful. He understood to an extent of why so was so scared but he didn’t want her to be, not of him. Not of anything while he was around.

So he tried a less…creepy way of getting her attention.

A more normal way.

———————————————————————

“Hello love” he spoke as soft as he was able as to not frighten her off, trying to be less intimidating which was something he wasn’t sure how to do exactly.

Her head raised to look up at him and her eyes shone golden for a brief second to which his reflected back.

Like a switch, the fear was back.

She took a step away from him as her wolf whined within her. For some reason her wolf smelt his and something inside her wanted to breathe more of him, but that familiar feeling of the need to run away was engraved into her brain. Her wolf wolf would protect her before it gave into this alpha.

Klaus anticipated her actions to run “have been getting my gifts?” He asked quickly and she froze, he showed her his hands to be empty, no weapons or anything to be scared of. “I have no intentions to harm you sweetheart, an innocent gesture” he assured but his words meant little to a girl who had been warned a thousand times owner to not trust other wolves. “Don’t be afraid little wolf” he encouraged gently.

Her eyes searched his face, his eyes held nothing malicious which soothed her worries a small amount. She couldn’t help but look at his lips for a moment as he said something more but that common ring in her ears blocked out the sound as her mind ran into panic

Klaus frowned a little at her lack of attention and noticed her eyes watching his mouth. Perhaps she was deaf? He wondered, it would make sense why she only spoke few words so he signed something to her but she only looked more confused

“I’m sorry I don’t speak sign language” she whispered slightly embarrassed. She didn’t notice the way his face lit up at her voice

“Forgive me, I wasn’t sure you could hear me” he explained and she made an ‘oh’ sound in realisation.

“I’m…I’m sorry I really need to get home” she told him gently

“I can walk you” he offered and she swallowed thickly

“I-um I don’t think that-“

“Please my lovely, I don’t want you to be snatched up by someone” he murmured and the fear of something happening just because she denied a nice person the chance to walk with her scared her more than the possibility of him being the bad one.

“Okay” she whispered with a nod.

It began quiet, and few words were exchanged

She doesn’t like to talk. Let her listen.

His wolf directed so he complied and spoke to her about random things to take her mind off of the elephant in the room.

He avoided any mention of supernatural or her soft natured personality.

She was rather grateful to have him treat her like a normal person rather than an object like she assumed alphas would act towards an omega nowadays.

By the time he got to her house she knew it were time to address the situation.

“I don’t have a pack” she told him “I’m no threat or a necessary target, killing me won’t benefit you” she tells him in hopes of him leaving her be. The sad look in his eyes flicked between both of hers

“I wasn’t planning to harm you” he said quietly “omegas…they are a rarity that should be protected and cherished. I only want to be a good alpha for you, I will keep you safe” he promised

“I’m not a possession” she whispered with a sigh and unlocked her door hurriedly

“Of course not- that’s not what I meant…I just meant that you- well you want to be taken care of don’t you?” He asked confused

“No” she lies. Thankfully her suppressants stopped her wolf from throwing her at him. His scent was so strong and rich.

Klaus frowned at her a little and looked down briefly which she took notice of and an immediate flow of guilt travelled through her. “I don’t mean to scare you, or make you feel uncomfortable” he murmurs while she steps inside her house “If you change your mind, perhaps you would call me?” He offered and put a strip of paper with his number into her hand “I can sense the suppressants you are taking, I understand why of course but I do hope one day you may feel safe enough to stop and allow your wolf to be free” he whispers with a small smile and slowly retreats back to his own home.

Y/n would be lying if she said his words didn’t have an impact on her. She wanted nothing more than to let her instincts drive her and to melt into a strong alphas arms but her trust wasn’t known to be given out.

She continued to receive little tokens of his affections. Sweet poems and love notes complimenting every thingy detail about her. She soon found it more comforting than scary which was a first but it didn’t feel wrong. For once something felt right.

So she decided that maybe texting him instead of ringing him would be a small step in the right direction.

And Klaus couldn’t have been happier.

———————————————————————

A few weeks later and y/n was getting more comfortable with Klaus by the day.

The first few times he initiated physical contact made her freak out and she didn’t want to see him for a couple days after. He tried his best to be patient and careful with what he did, she was more damaged than he had originally expected but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

He moved nice and slow for her until eventually she would sink against his chest and welcome his embrace.

Soft touches were her kryptonite and he made sure to give her unlimited access.

His hands would stroke and pet her hair, brush his fingers along her arms gently while small kisses are peppered from her shoulder to her jaw. Kisses was another step in their little relationship. His forwardness could frighten her from time to time so he made sure to let her come to him when she wanted to kiss him.

His arms were wrapped around her loosely when her lips ever so lightly pressed to his, as soon as she took the chance to deepen it she had handed the control over. From there he poured every ounce of his admiration into their shared moments of affection.

After a couple months y/n was succumbing to her omega needs. She began to rely on him more and more.

Soon enough Klaus had asked if she would ever stop taking her suppressants

“Maybe…I don’t know…I would be hit full force with years of feelings and experiences” she told him quietly

“I would be here with you, take care of you and everything you long for” he promised her

She blushed a dark pink and leant against his chest “I’m not sure that my needs are manageable” she whispered shyly

“I wouldn’t worry about your heat sweetheart, I would take perfect care of that” he whispered back with a knowing smirk on his lips. His fingers ran down her back lightly as she nuzzled his chest to hide her embarrassment. “Don’t be too shy my little love, your alpha will please you just perfectly” he teased

“Stopp” she whined making him chuckle and pull her into his lap

“Hush sweetheart, you know how much I adore you” he murmured “you mustn’t be embarrassed with your basic instincts, I crave to provide for you”

“You do so much for me already, my wolf would drive you mad” she whispered

“No madder than my own does, I assure you”

(Gonna do a separate part for the smutty side after she stops taking her suppressants;))

(Also I too cannot believe the lack of omegaverse for Klaus, you would think there would be more. Gotta love alpha klaus!!)

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 9) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.2k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake tell Phoenix and Coyote about the baby and spend some more time together.

Series Master List

Master List

After telling your brother, Coyote and Phoenix were next on your list. And after they knew, then you could stop hiding it from everyone, so you and Jake were both anxious to finally get to that point. The secrecy was more stressful than anything else, and you were ready to be free of it. 

So, the day after the dinner with your side of the family, you and Jake headed over to Phoenix and Coyote’s house for lunch. 

“You can handle this one,” you told Jake as the two of you got out of Jake’s truck. 

“You sure?”

“Coyote’s your family. And I’ve had enough of telling families this weekend,” you replied softly. 

Jake led the way up to the side door and opened it without even knocking. Holding it open for you, Jake followed you inside. The two of you made your way into the kitchen. 

“You know, where I come from, people knock before entering someone else’s house,” Phoenix commented as she stacked some plates.

“Where’s Javy?” Jake asked in return, causing Phoenix to roll her eyes. 

“He’s outside at the grill.” 

You nudged Jake in the side and gestured at the stuff that Phoenix had clearly stacked up to bring outside for lunch. Jake helped Phoenix carry all of the stuff outside and handed you the roll of napkins before you could reach for anything heavier. Javy stood at the grill and grinned as the three of you stepped outside. 

“I knew I heard your car.”

“And I’m remembering why we didn’t give him a key,” Phoenix stated, setting the plates down. 

The four of you, though it was mostly split between Jake and Coyote and then you and Phoenix, made conversation as Coyote finished up. But when the four of you sat around the table, the topic of conversation shifted. 

“So, you guys are back together then?” Coyote asked, glancing between the two of you. “When did that happen?”

“Not too long after we talked,” Jake replied, taking the lead.

“And did Rooster finally find out about you guys?” Phoenix questioned, causing you to nod. “How’d he react?”

“Like I knew he would,” you stated, leaning back in your seat. “Poorly.” 

“Well, you knew that was coming,” Phoenix pointed out, causing you to shrug your shoulders.  

“Yeah, we did,” you agreed, turning to Jake.

“He wasn’t exactly happy about our relationship. And then he found out that she’s pregnant and he wanted to kill me,” Jake explained, dropping the information bomb on top of Coyote and Phoenix casually. 

“You’re pregnant?” Coyote asked you suddenly, looking shocked at the news. 

“I knew it,” Phoenix stated at the same time.

“How did you know?” you asked confused. 

“I didn’t see you drink during the wedding,” Phoenix started off with. “Then Rooster mentioned that you were throwing up a lot. And then you started wearing a lot of dresses and loose clothes and things with big patterns. You were clearly hiding something.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Coyote asked, causing Phoenix to turn to her husband. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything until I actually knew that she was pregnant,” Phoenix stated as if it was obvious. Shaking her head at her husband’s playfully offended expression, Phoenix turned back to you. But when the two of you locked eyes again, her expression noticeably softened. “So, how do you feel about it?” 

“I’m doing a lot better,” you replied, nodding along. “It feels nice to finally share it with everyone.”

“How did Mav take the news?”

“Well, Hangman’s still standing, at least,” Coyote joked, causing Jake to scoff. 

“Mav it took pretty well, actually, all things considered,” you explained quietly.

“How far along are you now?” Coyote questioned, turning to you. 

“About fifteen weeks now,” you stated, folding your hands over your abdomen.

“And you and the baby are healthy, right?” Phoenix added, causing you to smile. 

“Yeah, we’re fine.”

“Well, congrats.”

Coyote grabbed three beers and a ginger ale for you so that the four of you could celebrate. You clinked your drinks together and shared smiles as Coyote made a toast. 

“To Baby Ser—Brad—” he cut himself off twice, realizing that he should have asked beforehand.

“Bradshaw-Seresin,” you suggested, sharing a look with Jake, who nodded in return. 

“To Baby Bradshaw-Seresin!” 

The four of you finished up lunch and Javy got up first, dragging Jake with him inside to put away the food. But it was clearly a tactic to split you and Jake up for a moment so that Coyote and Phoenix could actually speak freely to both of you. 

“So, you’re having a baby with Hangman,” Phoenix stated, causing you to nod slowly. “And he looks pretty calm, actually. And happy.”

“Who, Jake?” 

“Yeah. Has he been calm the whole time?” 

“Pretty much,” you replied softly. “Why? Were you expecting him to freak out?”

“I think most guys would freak out in this situation,” Phoenix commented, taking a sip from her beer. “And you guys broke up.” 

“Well, can you break up if you were technically never together?” you asked Phoenix.

“And are you together now?”

“Yes and sort of no.”

“What the hell does that mean? Has he asked you out or not? Have you put a label on it?”

“Co-parents?” you suggested. 

“Alright,” Phoenix sighed, letting the question go. “Well, what couple-y things have you two been doing?”

“We’re thinking about moving in together, to Jake’s apartment, once my lease is up.” 

“That makes sense,” Phoenix agreed. She paused for a moment before asking, “Have the two of you guys . . . you know . . . since you found out about the baby?” 

“Have we what?”

“Fucked,” Phoenix stated bluntly.

“Jesus Christ, Nat!”

“Well?”

“No, we haven’t,” you stated honestly, looking down at your fingers. “We haven’t even kissed.” 

“And?” Phoenix asked, reading your expression.

“And what?”

“Do you want to do that with him?”

“I . . .” You glanced into the house where Jake and Javy were talking before turning back to Phoenix. Biting the inside of your cheek, you lowered your hands to your lap. “Well, you know how pregnancy impacts your hormones?”

“Obviously.”

“And do you ever feel more . . . pent up at certain times of the month?” you asked, your cheeks growing warm. “Well, it’s sort of been like that.” 

“Oh shit,” Phoenix stated, causing you to hold your head in your hands with embarrassment. “How bad?”

“Well, it’s not great,” you huffed, picking your head up. “And I mean, if we’re going to move in with each other, I can’t just be . . . taking care of myself in our bed when he’s right next to me.”

“I might have a solution.”

“What?” you asked, perking up. 

“Ask him to help out,” Phoenix stated, making an obscene gesture with her hands. 

“Nat!”

You grabbed her hands from across the table, causing her to scoff at you. Lowering her hands, Phoenix shot you a look. 

“Just talk to him, for fucks sake. He doesn’t seem like the type to say ‘no’ to that.”

“What if it complicates things?”

“You’re already pregnant with his baby. How much more complicated than that can it get?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, holding a hand to your head. “It's just starting to run smoother. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“You know that if you or Hangman need anything, we’re here for you guys, right?”

“We know,” you assured her, shooting her a small smile. “Thanks.”

“And I can try to talk to Rooster if you want.”

“I think Emma’s got it handled,” you stated, causing Phoenix to nod with a proud smirk. 

“I’ll leave it to her to have that conversation with him.” Phoenix took another sip from her beer as her smirk dropped. “But, word of advice? Have more serious conversations with Hangman sooner rather than later.”

“Why?” you asked, confused. 

“There’s talk of some of us being deployed soon.” 

“Oh,” you replied softly, rubbing your small bump to soothe yourself. “I guess you guys are sort of overdue, now that I think about it.” 

“I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything.”

“No, I know,” you assured her, forcing a smile. “Just more . . . complications.”

Meanwhile, inside the house, Jake and Coyote were across from each other at the kitchen island. Coyote stood tall, resting his hands on the counter top in a way that showed that he was steady and strong. But Jake, on the other hand, was sinking a bit further into his seat the longer that he sat there.  

“Are you okay?” Coyote asked quietly. “Really, are you okay with all of this, Jake?”

“I’m fucking terrified,” Jake replied, picking his head up slowly.

“It’s a big step.” Coyote glanced towards where you and Phoenix were sitting. “What happened after we talked?”

“I went over to her apartment to talk. Rooster and Maverick were there and I had to sit through the most awkward dinner of my life. And then when I went to the bathroom to try and calm down, I found a wrapper for prenatal vitamins.” 

“That’s how you found out that she was pregnant?”

“Yeah. Really shitty isn’t it?” Jake replied dryly. “And then I freaked out and left and she came over to my apartment the next day. We talked, she invited me to her appointment, and we’ve been focusing on telling her family and trying to get to know each other better.” 

“And how’s that been going?”

“Sometimes it feels natural, sometimes it doesn’t.” 

“Are you guys getting married? Moving in together? Actually getting together?” 

“We’re not getting married.” When Coyote looked at him with a knowing expression, Jake continued, “We’re going to move into my apartment together once her lease is up. And we are together. Just not like a lot of people are.” 

“So, you guys haven’t done any . . .” Javy trailed off, earning a look from Jake. “It’s a relevant question! You had to do it to get her pregnant in the first place.” Javy reached over to grab his phone. “Which reminds me, I need to pick up more condoms.”

“No, we haven’t,” Jake stated, ignoring Javy’s gaze.

“And do you want to?” Jake shot Coyote a look, causing him to raise a hand. “I know, I know, stupid question.” Coyote straightened up some more and asked, “So how did the dinner go with her family?”

“Rooster was ready to knock my teeth out.”

“Not shocking.”

“No, but he was acting like a little bitch. At least the secrecy is over, but I have a feeling that he’s going to be a little bitch for the rest of his life.”

Jake tapped his finger on the countertop, his mind wandering to something that Rooster said yesterday. Jake turned back to Coyote with a more withdrawn expression.

“What do you know about Connor?”

“Connor who?”

“Her ex.”

“Oh, the fiancé,” Coyote drawled with a bit of sass. “Why the hell do you care?”

“Rooster mentioned that they were together for five years.”

“And?”

“That’s a long time.”

“So? He’s not here. And she broke up with him. And I doubt that she’s even reached out to him since.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s been running around with you.” Coyote reached for his beer, “And from the little comments that Nat told me about him, he’s not someone that you should be stressing about.”

“Because?”

“He was a boring prick who tried to tell her what she wanted—Nat’s words, not mine—which is why she broke up with him.”

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Jake sighed, reaching for his own beer. 

“And have you told her about them?” Coyote asked after a moment.

“What do you think?” 

“Jake,” Coyote sighed, causing Jake to look away from him, “you have to tell her some of it.”��

“Why?” 

“Because you’re having a baby together,” Coyote stressed. “That’s a huge commitment. Literally, the biggest commitment that two people could make. You’re tied to each other for the rest of your lives.” 

“I know that, Javy,” Jake replied back forcefully.

Coyote picked his head up and moved to speak when the door opened and you and Phoenix headed inside. And the conversation ended right then and there when you and Phoenix walked over. 

~~~~~

Once Phoenix and Coyote were aware of your pregnancy, you and Jake stopped hiding it. You wore clothes that accentuated rather than hid your bump. You got a lot of unsolicited advice, as did Jake, but you were quick to accept Sarah Kazansky’s advice when she offered it. And you and Jake started the process of moving in together. 

“I guess that I can get rid of a lot of this crap,” you commented, digging through your apartment. “I won’t be needing them.” 

“You don’t want to put them in the storage unit?” 

“No, I think that between Mav’s little house and Bradley’s house, we won’t need it anymore. And besides, half of this crap is stuff that I just bought on a whim,” you replied, tossing some more things into cardboard boxes. “And you already have your own sets of stuff and if we move into a house together, we could just buy new ones together if we really wanted.” 

Tossing some old decorations that you didn’t even remember having, you looked up to see Jake wrapping up your framed photos.

“How was work today?” you asked conversationally.

“The usual. Your brother’s still avoiding me.” 

“I guess that’s better than the two of you fighting,” you sighed, turning back to the closet. Pulling out some more crap, you stared down at your hands. “Any talk of deployments or anything like that?” 

“Not today, no,” Jake answered honestly. “But Cyclone seems to be in the middle of planning something.” 

“Do you think you’ll get called up?” you asked, turning around to face him. 

Jake looked up from the photo that he was wrapping, which just so happened to be one of only three photos in existence of the full Bradshaw family before Goose died. Seeing the nerves under the mask that you were forcing yourself to wear, he gently placed the photo down on the table and turned to face you. 

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I mean, I’ll try to avoid it, but . . .” 

“I understand,” you assured him quietly. “I grew up around the Navy. I get it.” 

Jake nodded slowly, wincing at the defeated tone in your voice, before glancing down at the photo that he was wrapping. He had never really seen a photo of Goose before, minus a small one in his file, but Jake felt like the man was staring him down through the glass. Turning back to you, Jake finished wrapping up the photo. 

“Was your dad deployed a lot?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, sorting through some smaller boxes. “He was deployed when I was born, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my mom ended up giving birth alone,” you commented, reaching up to grab more stuff down from the shelves. “My grandma had to watch Bradley and my dad was gone.” Keeping your gaze focused on your task, you missed Jake’s expression change. “The first time he met me was when we came out to visit him at Top Gun.”

Oh, Jake could really feel Goose’s gaze burning into him through the glass and from beyond the grave. 

“So . . .”

“Yeah,” you replied simply, glancing up at Jake for a moment. “I mean at least I have a photo with him. That’s what I always said whenever people tried to convey their condolences when I was a kid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It happened a long time ago,” you stated, turning back to your sorting. 

“No, not . . . I mean . . .” You looked up as Jake trailed off, working on his words. “When we were training for the mission, your brother and I had an argument and I brought up your dad. And I’m sorry about that. And of course the whole other—”

“—Jake,” you told him, saving him some rambling. “I know about the whole fight.”

“You do?” he asked, confused. 

“Mav told me. I asked him about why Bradley would have asked me to stay away from you before the wedding and he mentioned it.” You wore a calm expression as you added, “I didn’t love that, obviously, but you saved Bradley and Maverick a few days later and so I thought it canceled out.”

Jake nodded slowly, watching as you turned back to the closet. And when he saw the shelf that you were trying to clear, he quickly walked over. Grabbing the box for you, despite your huff at the action, Jake put it down on the table for you to look through. 

“I’m not crippled, you know,” you stated, walking over to the table. 

“Still, I’m here to help you,” Jake responded, pulling down some more stuff from the higher shelves. “So, what are you doing with the stuff that you want to keep for now?”

“Putting them in the corner, I guess. What else would I do with them?”

“I mean, we could bring them over to my place.”

“You sure?” you asked, looking up at him. “Do you have space for them?”

“I’m not a hoarder. And I’m used to living bare bones so that I can pack up and move quickly,” Jake stated, causing you to nod. 

“Okay. Then I guess we can bring them over.” A moment of silence passed before you turned back to him. “Actually, that reminds me. I was wondering if I could sleep over at some point before I officially move in. You know, to see how it feels and everything.”

“Do you want to stay over tonight?” Jake offered immediately.

“You don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have offered it if I did.”

“Okay,” you agreed softly. 

You and Jake sorted through some more stuff before loading the boxes of your keepsakes into his truck. You took two cars since you would have to go to work from Jake’s apartment, but you picked up food along your way as a thank you. The two of you put the boxes into Jake’s closet, which was completely empty minus the vacuum and a box of trash bags, before sitting down to eat dinner together.

You and Jake finished up dinner and spent the rest of the evening walking around his apartment, taking stock of things that you needed to bring and buy, and where you would put everything. Especially with all of the baby stuff that was going to come at some point. Making a list on your phone of all the measurements and things to get, you and Jake decided to call it an early night. 

You changed in the bathroom, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Pulling on your usual sleep shirt and shorts, you brushed your hair and your teeth before walking into Jake’s bedroom. Jake was sitting up in bed, scrolling on his phone when you stepped out of the bathroom. 

You were wearing a large worn gray tee shirt that had ‘NAVY’ stamped across the front of it and a pair of silky sleep shorts. And Jake was trying to figure out if you knew that the shirt that you were wearing belonged to him, as noted by the oil stain on the left breast of the shirt, or not. And even though it was loose on you, he could still see your bump under there as you moved around. And then his thoughts started to wander. 

Shifting awkwardly on the bed, Jake turned to you. 

“Did you find everything fine?”

“I have been here before,” you reminded him, setting your phone down on the nightstand. You turned to shut the light off before climbing into bed. You laid down and moved to get comfortable, locking eyes with Jake. “Let me know if I’m taking up too much space.”

“You’re fine,” Jake assured you. “Take whatever you need.” Shifting to lay down as well, Jake rolled on his side so that the two of you were staring at each other, your faces illuminated by the moon. “I’ll probably be gone before you wake up. I’ll try to be as quiet as possible.”

“I’m a heavy sleeper, so don’t feel stressed about it.” Nuzzling your head into the pillow, you closed your eyes. “Night, Jake.”

“Night,” he returned softly. 

Jake moved to go to sleep himself, but when he heard your breathing even out and slow, he opened his eyes. You had fallen asleep quickly, the tension gone from your body, and your lips slightly parted. Jake’s eyes trailed over your face and down to the blanket that seemed to naturally curl around your bump. He reached out and gently caressed the curve before going to bed himself. 

~~~~~

Jake woke up before his alarm, like he always did. But this time, he didn’t wake up alone. 

You were curled into his side and he seemed to have shifted naturally to accommodate you. His right arm was lazily wrapped around your waist with his fingers brushing against your bump. His arm was a little numb from the position but he couldn’t have cared less. Your legs were slightly tangled with his own and your head rested against his shoulder as you continued to peacefully sleep. 

Instead of getting up early, Jake laid there and took in the moment and the feel of you against him, brushing his fingers along the curve of your abdomen.

He would have laid there all day but he still had to go to work. Slowly untangling himself from you, he slipped out of bed and headed into the bathroom to get ready. 

You woke up to the sound of the shower running. Blinking, you rolled over to see the bathroom door closed. The bed beside you was still warm and he had tucked the blankets back down to keep you insulated. You shifted around, trying to get comfortable again. Closing your eyes and trying to go back to sleep, you paused when you heard the shower shut off. 

Opening your eyes slowly, you sucked in a breath when Jake opened the door in nothing but a towel wrapped low on his waist. 

You’d seen Jake in less than a towel. More than a few times. But there was just something about how he stood there that felt all kinds of new. All kinds of ways that made you want to get up and drag him down into bed with you. 

The steam in the bathroom behind him added a glow to his tan skin. The water droplets marked trails down his chest and abdomen down to his towel that you wanted to chase with your tongue. He told you that he sometimes shaved his chest but you preferred the layer. It made him look more . . . rugged. Biteable. Something that you wanted to get your mouth on. And, of course, the man had such strong V lines that you could map them out perfectly in the dark without fail. And you had. 

“Sorry,” he called, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t wake me,” you replied, sitting up more. 

“Did you want breakfast?” Jake asked, walking over to his closet. He grabbed his uniform from the door and walked back into the bathroom. 

“I’ll be fine. I can grab something on the way.”

“You sure? I’m already making eggs and toast,” Jake offered, stepping back into the bathroom. He shut the door enough to give him privacy but still allowed you to talk to him. 

“Um,” you stammered, wincing when you heard the towel drop to the floor, “sure.” Getting up from bed, you walked out of the room. “I’ll get it started.”

Jake went to work earlier than you, so you were in no rush to get ready. Pulling out his toaster and setting it up, you glanced up as Jake walked into the kitchen with his perfectly pressed uniform and wet hair slicked back. You kept your gaze down, hoping that Jake didn’t notice the color in your cheeks. 

You ate your toast and excused yourself to change your clothes. Walking out to wish Jake well with his day, you offered him a small smile. 

“Thanks for letting me stay over.”

“This’ll be your place too soon,” Jake replied, pulling the strap of his bag over his shoulder. 

“Right.” 

“I gave you a key, so you shouldn’t have any problems locking up.”

“Yeah, I should be fine.” Shifting your weight around, you turned back to Jake. “When will I see you next?”

“Whenever you want. I have to go help Javy with something at the house eventually, but I can do that whenever.”

“Tomorrow?” you suggested softly. 

“Tomorrow,” Jake agreed with a nod. 

Jake turned to leave but instead of walking to the door, he walked around to where you were standing. You looked up at Jake with wider eyes as he leaned in closer. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling away. 

“Text me if you need me.”

You could only nod as he walked around you and headed out the door. Standing there for a moment, you let out a long sigh.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, holding a hand to your head. 

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[kindasleepywriter]

Public Displays of Affection - Azriel x Reader

Chapter summary: This is a Christmas themed oneshot of a series I'm working on (Bird of Prey masterlist), but it can be read as a standalone! It's set a few years after the end of the series, but it doesn't spoil the main story.

Warnings: None! Just a lot of fluff

Word count: 850.

Sidenote: Accidentally posted this on my personal blog at first! this is the re-upload on the right account <3

Winter Solstice was rapidly approaching. If the bite of frost in the air didn’t remind you of the fact, the extravagant amount of decoration in the House of Wind did. They’d started appearing a few weeks ago and now covered most surfaces, admittedly bringing you more joy than you let on every time you went to the library to pick up a new book. Solstice felt bittersweet to you, but you let yourself enjoy the parts you could.

You watched Azriel as you leaned in the door frame of the sitting room as he helped Feyre and Nyx make what looked to be garlands, although the latter’s work might be considered an abstract representation of one. You smiled gently as the ease with which he laughed with the others. You were glad he’d become more confident alongside you.

He glanced up, as if reading your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat at the wide smile he gave you, still so affected at the sight of him, despite the years. He always could manage to get your heart racing from the most innocent of gestures. When you thought back, you could see it clear as day: he was always the one you were meant to be with from the first day, despite what you felt then. No one had managed to break through the walls that had numbed you to the world except for him, even if it had initially been through confrontations of anger.  

Azriel whispered a few words to Nyx, the young boy giggling at his words and rushing to his mother’s side, before walking over to your side, circling around you so he held your back against his chest. He swayed slowly with you to the soft beat of the music surrounding you both.

“Penny for your thought?” he whispered, soft breath tickling the skin behind your ear.

“I don’t think you can afford all of them right now, Az,” you chuckled, turning your face to his and raising a hand to brush a wisp of hair straying on his forehead. “But I’ll give you one for free if you want.”

He hummed, eyes fixed on yours and his hands rubbing slow circles against your hips. “I’d empty Rhys’ entire vault for you, love, don’t tempt me to do so,” he said. You laughed, turning to put your hands around his neck, his hands finding their way around you and flattening against your shirt in the sensitive spot between your wings. You sighed in contentment, a shiver running down your spine. “But I’ll happily take what you’ll give me.” he continued quietly.

“I’m thinking that I never truly thanked you for sticking by me through it all.” You kissed him softly, pulling your head back with a chuckle as he tried to follow. “I couldn’t have hoped for someone more perfect than you.”

You felt his grin against your lips, smiling back at you. He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to yours. “And I’ve been the luckiest in Prythian to see you shine, my love.”

You went to speak again, but your words were interrupted by the sound of something whizzing through the air, but no sound of impact came, only a smacking sound across the room and an undignified squeak. Azriel did not move from his position, arms tightening, but rolled his eyes and raised his voice. “Cass, if you don’t put down that second wreath you’re holding, I won’t hesitate to tell Nesta what you got her for Solstice this instant.”

A feminine laugh rang across the room.

“You guys are no fun together.” Cassian muttered, more laughs ringing from the others around you. Your cheeks reddened and tension ran through you, not unnoticed by Azriel. “Want to get out of here?” he whispered.

“Please, before he decided to move on to more intimidating weapons.” you snickered.

“I’ll have you know that wreaths are perfectly acceptable projectiles when you two lovebirds are being-” You were grateful for Cassian’s indignant protest being cut off by darkness surrounding you, you and your lover disappearing to your shared bedroom.

Your wings spread on instinct when your feet caught solid ground, and you immediately caged Azriel against the wall, your hands resting on his defined pectorals. “I believe Cassian might need to learn to be grateful of our discretion in public, love.” he muttered playfully.

“We could always show him exactly how much we restrain ourselves in their presence,” you purred. You were always more playful when you two were alone. “I’m sure a little demonstration might remind him of the fact.”

You shuddered as his hands trailed down your back, over your rear and to your thighs, tapping them slightly, and you jumped with a single beat of your wings, obliging his silent demand. He caught you, spinning you around and leading you to the bed, softly laying you down.

Not a single word was uttered about your public displays of affection again.

If I'm being honest, I was planning on finishing up Bird of Prey before Christmas and was hoping to post this as a follow-up, but finals got the best of me. I should be posting more during the holidays!

Banner created by the amazing @saradika!

[nerdieforpedro]

He told me his name

The Mandalorian/ Din Djarin x plus size female reader

My entire blog is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: approx. 1.3k

Summary: It's not clear if you enter The Mandalorian's orbit or you enter his, but slowly the two of you are growing closer.

Warnings: vague mentions of mechanic work, HANDS (It's my thing about Din okay?!), fluff, some violence, blood, injuries and first aid

Notes: I've wanted to write another Din fic for a while and didn't have any sparks. Then I read @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin 's Din fic (Sorgan girls Are Easy) she put out yesterday which is excellent. I had my spark. ⚡️ Though the fic I wrote isn't similar to hers at all. Not even in the same category. 🤣 My fic is very moody. I might write a follow-up one shot to this.

Dividers are by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist / Din Djarin Masterlist /Our Journey Across the Star Ocean

Lingering near your workstation had you curious, but you chalked it up to just being curious about how you worked. You’re aware that your organization, separation and tinkering can be slower than other mechanics but it also means you don’t need to double check your work as often.

The Mandalorian was intimidating and never rude or even commanding. In fact he was polite and let Peli speak to him pretty casually. You only said hello and goodbye.

That’s why it struck you with surprise when Peli asked during one evening card game with the droids if you’d consider riding with the “walking tin can” as she put it. You blinked and asked why you, shouldn’t he be asking her to come with him. She told you that she had a business to run and she’s not gallivanting around with a trigger happy bounty hunter who has to keep track of an adorable but absurdly strong baby. 

“You need some excitement anyway. You’ll just waste away here without any good memories or fun stories to tell. It will just be a life of regrets of paths not taken.”

Her words rang in your head as the small green child sat in your lap. The Mandalorian was at the controls, silently charting their course. Was this a good decision?

He allowed you to come with him when he got his tracking fobs and when he turned in his bounties. The first touch was between your shoulder blade to your back, guiding you and the child through the market back to the Razor Crest.

The second was when his gloved hands touched yours while trying to improve your aim using a blaster. His voice was more gentle than his normal flat one. Closer to what he used with Grogu but still not as much warmth. It was enough to have you believe him to be kind.

The third happened after he brought a bounty back to the ship and he saw Grogu patting your cheeks as you spoke to him. Explaining about what different bolts did, it looked like you were organizing your tools again. His gloved hand was placed on your shoulder which had you peer up at his t-visor. He gave you a nod and went to inventory his weapons. Maybe it wasn’t just kindness. Maybe he believes you to be useful, a smile creeps along your face.

Such small gestures continued until you took Grogu out for a walk. 

It was a fairly green planet and Din said it was safe, you didn’t wander far from the ship as it was still in view. The first crawling plant you saw and shot it through and through with your blaster. The second, nipped your leg but you were able to knock it off and shot it twice. On the way back to the ship you were clear, but one jumped the gangway and a tentacle sliced across your back before you were able to turn and shoot it. You limped back into the Razor Crest and were able to clean and dress your leg but not your back. Grogu wouldn’t stop screaming and you kept moving him away from you to not get blood on the poor child.

The bounty hunter saw you, quickly put his bounty on carbonate and grabbed the bacta spray. He spoke to his son and was able to calm him slightly as he ripped your shirt and bra to try and access the wound on your back but the blood and secretions in your wound from the tentacle made it increasingly difficult as you bled. 

“I apologize for this. I’ll need to cut off the rest of the back of your shirt to clean and apply the spray and…” He paused. The Mandalorian you know never paused, he was always measured in his speech, even with Grogu. “It may be easier for me to do if I remove my gloves. They’ve become too slick with your blood. Is that alright?” You found it puzzling that he was asking permission considering it’s one of the main tenets of his religion. You didn’t care either way as long as the bleeding and pain stopped. 

“It’s fine Mando. Do what you need to do. Grogu’s okay right? I didn’t get any blood on him, I think.”

You closed your eyes and heard the Mandalorian give a few curses as he removed his gloves, warm calloused fingers were dabbing your back and applying pressure. After holding it a few minutes, you felt the cool spray of the bacta and some patches being applied with more pressure. There seemed to be less pain and your back didn’t feel like a dripping pool so you counted your lucky stars and thanked the Maker that the bounty hunter had come back earlier than later. You felt something soft spread over your body and you were lifted off the floor of the ship and brought to your cot. How did he lift you so easily? Did beskar help with that? You didn’t think so, but you know next to nothing about the stuff. It was there that you drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke later, Grogu had tucked himself on your pillow with a small green hand on your cheek. It made you feel happy to see the little green one next to you, but you felt something in your hand. It was what had been on your back. Mando had one of his gloves off and was holding your hand with his bare one. His other hand was touching Grogu’s back but his glove was on. You turned away for a moment to let a tear fall. He cares about you, you’re more than useful, maybe.

Grogu remained asleep but Mando awoke, squeezing your hand in his. “You’re awake? Has the pain subsided? I should check-” You turned back to shush him and carefully sat up, the blanket falling off your partially and he released your hand to pull it around you. The back of your shirt was open and had fallen forward some when you got up, but not expose anything thankfully.  “You should keep warm. We’re on our way back to turn in the bounty. I-I am sorry.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry. They came out of nowhere. I was able to not get killed because of the blaster shots you had me practice and Grogu’s safe so-” Since you’re not holding Mando’s hand any longer, you grasp the blanket, to have something in your hand.

“You were not safe. You were hurt badly. Do…I would not blame you if you wanted to leave.” His register is low, not threatening, but there’s sadness in it. He was sitting at your bedside mere moments ago. You wished to hop back in time and keep still so you wouldn't wake him. Just to have stayed in that moment a bit longer…

“I refuse to go. I will not. You’ll have to toss me off. I’ve seen so many things and places and I want to see that much more. You’re stuck with me Mando.” The blanket drops as you release it and you grab his bare hand with both of yours. “I’m not going to but. I just don’t want to go.” Speaking as you lock your eyes on his t-visor, a deep hum is heard from the hunter, but you remain firm.

“I am called Din. Please do so while it’s just the three of us.” His thumb ran across your palm and tickled your skin making you chuckle. “You will remain and hopefully I will hear more of your laugh.” Your smile only grows with his answer. “Please rest for now. Our journey isn’t over.”

Part Two

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[caileeflavoured]

i can do you for free

miles miller x fem! reader

© caileeflavoured 2024, do not repost, modify or translate!

synopsis: When Miles can’t help himself but spy on you and your client, he wonders if he can afford a night with you, too.

a/n: another fic from ages ago that i can't find on my blog anymore so whatever, idk wtf happened in this one but i know it for sure is 18+, therefore, read at your own risk!

wc: 2.1k

MAIN MASTERLIST

You entered the hotel’s lobby behind the man who’d booked a night with you. He was very generous, offering to pay double the price when you hesitated at first. 

You’d always preferred a quick job in your client’s car over an entire night in a hotel. An admittedly sketchy hotel, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. But you couldn’t refuse an offer like that, so you eventually accepted the 280 dollars.

The man wasn’t exactly someone you were looking forward to fucking with his gray hair combed back in greasy streaks and an ill-fitting suit, contrasting your comparatively youthful appearance.

The counter was abandoned, and not a single clerk in sight. You wondered if this place was even open, considering your client’s car was the only one in the parking lot, too. “Not the busiest place around Tahoe, huh?” You mentioned to your client as you stopped at the counter, looking to the open key cupboard on your right. “But I guess you prefer discretion anyways.” Your eyes fell down to the wedding band on your client’s left ring finger as he slammed his hand down on the bell a few times. Not the first married man to make use of your services. If anything, it seemed to you that most of your clients actually had someone waiting for them at home while they drove you around Lake Tahoe. 

But that was none of your business.

The door to the backroom opened and out came an innocent-looking young man, apologizing profusely as he fixed his outfit.

“G-Good evening, Ma’am. Sir,” the guy said. 

Your eyes scanned the letters on his name tag. Miles. 

Cute, you thought. Suits him, but quickly shifted your attention back to your client.

“Evening,” you and your client said, and watched the clerk as he walked to the foyer from behind the counter with small, nervous steps, clearing his throat as he stood in front of you and your client. 

With reluctant gestures, he gave an introduction to the hotel. “The El Royale is a bi-state establishment. You have the option to stay in either the great state of California or the great state of Nevada,” he explained with a shy smile on his lips, then crossed his hands behind his back.

“Warmth and sunshine to the west or hope and opportunity to the east. Which would you prefer?”

“How much for a night?” Your client asked immediately, ignoring Miles’s question.

“Eight dollars in Nevada,” Miles explained. “Rooms in California cost one dollar more.”

“Do you have a map?”

“Uh, yes, absolutely,” the young man said, walking back to the reception with quick steps before he ripped a sheet of paper off a pad and placed it in front of you.

“We’ll take this one,” your client decided and pointed to a room.

“Alright,” Miles said, handing him the key to Room 2. “Just one night?”

Your client nodded.

“That’ll be eight dollars… And please sign the ledger,” he told your client, his eyes momentarily flicking to you.

The man to your left did as he was told, and you read the name he wrote down on the blank page. 

Bryan Cleveland.

“Her too?” Bryan asked the clerk who respectfully nodded his head.

You did as you were told, handing Miles the pen with a charming smile on your lips. And for a moment, it almost seemed to you as if his entire face lit up as he sheepishly smiled but looked down to avoid your gaze.

After a short moment of awkward silence, he wished you a great stay at the El Royale and watched you disappear out of the lobby.

•

Miles was absolutely mesmerized by you, completely lost in the spell of your appearance, and the way you carried yourself so effortlessly and beautifully. He wondered what a young girl like you was doing here with such a seemingly uncivil, old man.

As soon as you left the big foyer, Miles was fighting his own mind, trying to resist the urge to go check and see for himself what you and that man were doing in Room 2. He didn’t want to be a pervert and give in to his lecherous side, but he wondered if you and that man were…

No, he couldn’t do it. 

But still, after half an hour of fighting his own deepest desires, his feet dragged his body along the dark hallway all the way to the back of the Nevada rooms. Miles passed the empty honeymoon suite first, and stopped for a few seconds, thinking this was his last chance of avoiding yet another sin. 

He thought about all the bad things he’s done in the past. The 123 people he’s killed, the people he’s recorded whenever his manager told him to. God would resent him once and for all, the chance of redemption would minimize drastically if he really did it.

But his curiosity and the enchantment you’d put on him still got the better of him. 

“Forgive me father,” he whispered to the heavens above, making that last step forward and turning to face the two-way-mirror.

Miles choked on his own spit the moment he finally saw what exactly you and and that Bryan Cleveland were doing at the El Royale. Time seemed to stand still as he watched you on top of the old man, your naked curves moving with such elegance and grace as you sat on that man’s middle.

Your hips shifted back and forth as you guided his hands to your body, letting him knead your breasts and play with your nipples. Miles couldn’t ignore the sense of pleasure the scene in front of his eyes involuntarily sent down to his cock.

He was aching for what that man had. He felt envy even, thinking you’d deserve so much better than that. But then his gaze shifted to the table on the other side of the room. 

And the stack of dollar bills on its surface. Oh. 

Miles wondered how much money that was, and then caught himself counting the few crumpled-up bills he’s had scattered around in the maintenance closet. It had to be forty at most — no way that was enough for someone like you.

So maybe the show in front of him had to be enough after all.

He pressed on the button to his right, and your moans immediately filled the silence of the dark hallway. Miles panted, his hand automatically moving to his crotch.

He felt his erection strain his pants. His brain shut off as he unbuttoned them and shoved the material down just enough to free his already throbbing cock. He didn’t want to do it, but he lost all self-control.

Miles fisted his cock, his eyes glued to your frame, jumping obscenely on that man’s hips, his ears picking up only those slutty, lewd noises coming from your mouth. To him, it felt like he was watching his very own live porn, an exclusive show just for him, with a girl so unreal he wouldn’t believe this was actually happening if it wasn’t for the undeniably authentic sense of pleasure coursing through his veins.

His hand moved faster along his length, and the feeling got more intense with each second passing. He leaned forward, needing to steady himself on the small edge of the mirror as he imagined his hand to be your deliciously sweet cunt. 

“You like that?” Your voice echoed through the speaker as you picked up your pace on that man’s dick.

“Oh, fuck! Yeah, yeah just like that!” Miles panted.

He was grateful his own voice did not echo back into your room as he got lost in the dreamlike pleasure you gave him, his own pathetic moans reverberating in that dark hallway.

He watched you turn around on that man’s lap, and your new position gave him an even better view of your gorgeous chest. He kept his steady rhythm, as much in sync with yours as possible, as he watched you bend over slightly, and the way your tits bounced even harder with each snap of your hips.

“Uh-uh. Don’t come yet,” you said, and Miles tried his hardest to obey you — it felt like you were actually talking to him — but when he watched you move your hand to your clit, and heard your moans get even louder, he couldn’t help but let that intense release wash over him.

“I’m s-sorry!” His eyes shut tightly, and he groaned as he came hard, his cum painting the lower edge of the mirror as it dribbled down the dark walls. 

He stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the afterglow of his torturously powerful orgasm until his brain seemed to finally be switched on again, and he felt a sense of disgust and disgrace.

“Oh, oh God. Oh-,” Miles stammered, quickly turning off the speaker, not daring to look at you again even though he wanted to so badly. “Oh, Lord, forgive me.”

He hastily pulled his pants back up and trotted back to the maintenance closet, promising himself and the Lord that he would never ever sin again.

•

Several hours into the night, Miles wandered around the empty foyer, looking for any kind of work to keep him occupied. Or rather his mind, which still seemed to go back to those images of you, and your heavenly body.

He had wanted to clean up his mess in the hallway, but he was afraid you’d still be making that old man happy, and didn’t wanna risk yet another moment of losing control over his own primal lust. 

So he thought it’d be best to occupy himself in the lobby and clean a little behind the bar. 

The jukebox quietly played Frank Sinatra’s Strangers In The Night in the background as Miles wiped all the surfaces of the counter and the drink display behind it. He was so lost in thought he didn’t even hear the front door open, and then fall closed again. 

He also didn’t hear your footsteps approach until you sat down on one of the barstools. You cleared your throat, finally having caught Miles’s attention when he turned around, pausing his cleaning activities as he held a wine glass in one hand and his cloth in the other.

His mouth hung slightly open as he blinked rapidly. It seemed like a nervous habit of his, you’d already noticed it when you checked in earlier that night. 

You found it cute, his entire flustered state and all. 

“Oh, my apologies,” he stammered. “Ha-have you been waiting for a while?”

“No, don’t worry, Miles,” you said with a smile. “Can I get a drink?”

He nodded nervously. “A-absolutely. What would you like?”

“You choose.”

The music changed to The Shirelles’s Will You Love Me Tomorrow as Miles poured you a drink. You took the glass from him and thanked him. 

“How much for this?” “O-on the house,” he said with a shy smile and nervous nod of his head.

“Well then, let me know if I can return the favor sometime,” you sent a smile back as you took a sip of his drink, and Miles found it utterly enticing. 

His mind went back to what he saw as he looked at you enjoying your drink in front of him. He was struggling and couldn’t help himself as he thought about your naked body now covered by that pretty dress of yours.

He was struggling even more as he felt that burning desire simmer underneath his skin again, silently praying to the Lord to give him strength to resist the urge this time. He had sinned enough in his life. 

“What’s on that little clerk mind of yours, huh?” You suddenly interrupted his internal war, and his cheeks glowed red like a Christmas ball.

He stuttered a string of incoherent words, avoiding eye contact as he tried to keep himself busy wiping the counter surface.

“You know what I am, don’t you?” You asked when he wouldn’t answer your first question. “And you know who that man is, right?”

“Please, I would never assume such things, Ma’am.” “I wouldn’t take it personally, Miles,” you reassured him. “Don’t worry.” He chuckled awkwardly, trying to look at you but he just couldn’t. He feared he’d lose the last ounce of self-control if he did.

“And I still owe you one, don’t I?”

All of this felt like an insane dream to Miles, and he kept asking himself if it was the drugs. Yet he couldn’t remember that he actually shot up tonight.

He had already made up his mind before he said anything, he just didn’t realize it at first.

“I- I’m afraid I don’t have enough- umm-“

“Money? Sweetheart, I just said I still owe you. I can do you for free. Right here, right now. Just say yes.”

“Y-yes.”

[pianocat939]

I stumbled across your blog, and from one writer to another you make excellent work. So I bring you this.

*sips tea*

Three words:

Sick

Yandere

Turtles

In the episode “Down with the Sickness” there’s a stage where the patient becomes very and I mean VERY affectionate, (it was the Captain Cuddle-Cakes stage if I remember correctly) I rewatched the entire series and I couldn’t stop thinking about this when I watched this episode.

Like imagine them getting all needy for affection and attention while the reader is taking care of them. The shenanigans would be unreal.

—————

You started to sweat under the hazmat suit still confused as to how they managed to get anything done in these things. For once Donnie’s insistent medical procedures came to your rescue, because all four of the turtles managed to come down with the infamous “Rat Flu”.

You remembered how the illness came with several stages, one of which being the Must-Say-Yes stage (as Leo called it). If you could manage to not get sick, you could finally be free from this nightmare.

“[Name]~”

“What is it Leo?” You groaned, somehow the slider managed to be more needy while sick.

“Can you come into my arms so I can be whole again, Mi Vida?~”

It was going to be a long day

—————

- 🫖 Anon

I shouldn't be taking this since requests are closed but um

Tw: MC gets hit into a wall but no major head injury, forced cuddles at the end-, mostly turtaleles begging for affection

Sickly in Love

Ok, so the five of you are trying not to get sick with the rat flu. With only the biohazard suits made by Donnie as your only protection.

So far, everything is great, until Leo decides to be a little idiotic and not keep his suit on. Which ended in him getting ill.

He's locked in the quarantine area with his only companion an empty space. He complains endlessly about the heat, which is ironic considering he's a reptile.

And before you know it, he hits stage 2.

While the others go off and attempt to contain Splinter, you're stuck with a red-eared slider who is absolutely in love with you.

——————————————————

"Mi cariño~ won't you come closer? I want us to hold hands." He calls, his palm scraping against the plastic barrier.

"No, Leo. You might infect me if I do." You retort, scrolling through your phone.

He pushes himself against the temporary wall harder, wanting to be closer to you. "Oh but if I infect you, we can cuddle and give each other love!”

“Mh yeah but the group might need me so…No.”

Leo whines in response, clearly unhappy with the situation. He can’t help it! He wants to be held and adored by you so desperately! He longingly stares at you through the transparent cage, the urge to cry swallowing his entire being.

Just then, Donnie barges through the tunnel or rather thrown. He lands clumsily on the floor, a bit shocked by the impact. He groans in pain, rubbing his arm.

"Quick! Get 'em in there!" Raph commands, carrying Mikey in one arm. He then dashes off, escaping from the murderous rat behind him.

You lightly guide Donnie to the containment area, unsure of what else to do. Right before you open the zipper, he snatches the end of your sleeve, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. "I am not sick thank you, I just happen to- achoo!" He's interrupted by a high-pitched sneeze, his body hunched from the sudden action.

Skeptically, you move an eyebrow muscle; unamused by his statement. "Mh yeah, let's get you inside." You reveal the entrance, gesturing for him to enter.

Once he's inside, he shivers, rapidly rubbing his limbs. "Ugh, it's freezing in here..."

Leo snickers from a distance, pointing a finger at him, "That's the first stage kicking in!" He turns back to stare at you, hearts practically floating from him.

"So...Who would you rather have as your significant other, me or Donald?" Donald Duck Leo inquires, still pressed up against the barrier.

"Ronald McDonald. This situation is only getting worse."

"Wha- EXCUSE ME? I'm obviously the better choice than some ketchup clown!"

As Leo rages about how he's the superior one, Donnie stops shivering, his eyes blank. He glances up at you, holding his knees to his chest. He rocks back and forth a little, seemingly pondering about something.

"Donnie? You good?"

"Did I ever tell you about the time I hacked into your enemy's bank account? I took vengeance for you." He smiles slightly, tapping his feet against the floor.

"I- what? Who?"

Donnie breaks out into a psychotic grin, emotion waving through him. "Your enemy~ The ones who hurt you!"

"The fact you're grinning either means you're really happy or a maniac. I'm scared it's a mix of both."

"Why wouldn't I be happy? I protected you from those evil, disgusting heathens!"

Offended, Leo hisses, "Donnie back off! They're mine, you weirdo nerd!" He claws at the plastic, wanting to engage in a fight with his brother.

"Please no. Leo, don't hit the 3rd stage I'm begging you."

And as if things couldn't get worse Raph walks in, his walk agonizingly slow. "Ugh...Gettin' sick is not fun."

You frown, realizing the situation is much direr than expected. "That means Mikey is the only one left. Maybe I should leave to go help out." You ponder to yourself, grimacing a little when Raph collapses into his little chamber.

“No! You’re not leaving me! You’re staying right here with me!” Leo pounds against the transparent wall, angered by the statement.

Donnie whimpers, “What? No, don’t leave me! I get anxious if you do!” He taps his feet faster than before, his stims taking over.

“But if I don't go help Mikey, then you guys will have no chance of getting what you want!"

"Y/n, you listen to me right now. I don't care if we won't win if it means you'll stay. Now come here before I try to destroy everything." Leo hisses out, stomping his food and starting to hit the flexible barrier, trying to break it.

You look in the direction where Mikey is dealing with Splinter and back to Leo and Donnie who both stare at you longingly: one of aggravation and the other of fear. You can't deny, their faces make you want to calm them down so you sigh and sit next to their individual quarantine enclosures.

"You guys are seriously going to be the death of me..."

The two turtles only chirp and churr joyfully as they sit as close as possible to you (while still in their enclosures).

"Sweets! C'mere! I want snuggles please!"

You hear Raph exclaim as he motions for you to come closer to him, and you form a slight frown on your face realizing that Raph has already advanced to the 2nd stage in such little time.

"Raph, you know I can't. You're contagious."

He makes dejected whines from his throat as he presses his face against the wall, pouting with puppy eyes.

"Please...?"

"No, sorry Raph-" But you were interrupted by Donnie who sneered at his elder brother, "Stop it. You're making me want to gag at this lovey-dovey affection you're begging for." You give a short, small glare at the scientist, not enjoying his sudden cruelty. Looks like he's forwarded to the 3rd stage.

"I don't care...I only care for cuddles and kisses from you sweets!" Despite Donnie's harsh comment Raphie seems to bounce right back up and ignore him, which was quite unusual for the watchful turtle. For a split second, you look at Leo's area and notice he's sleeping on the floor soundly, occasionally letting out a small snore.

"Hey, hey! Your attention should be on me! Not him!"

As you were about to turn your head back to the big guy, a sudden weight crashed into you, slamming you against the wall.

"Agh!" You yelp, wincing at the throbbing pain in your head that came soon after you were hit. "What the..." You were then met with the youngest one, Mikey, snuggling into your abdomen with a grin on his face.

"I love you so much, my divinity!"

And before you know it, all four brothers are surrounding you (Leo somehow woke up out of nowhere) with smiles so big it's unnerving.

"We all love you so much,"

"And we think it's best~"

"If you stayed with us forever,"

"So that you can always be happy!"

You then find yourself in an enclosure of your own, except this time it's not for quarantine; no, your enclosure was their arms that wrapped around you so tightly, not letting you escape for freedom.

——————————————————

This was sitting in my drafts for a long time so I decided to just finish it and get it over with- so the ending might be rushed. Apologies.

- Celina

[fandomfixationstation]

Asexual Reader x TWST Characters: Part One! Rewritten

This is a rewrite of earlier posts I once wrote on a different blog. I am revisiting this and trying to improve on what I wrote and once again doing this for myself and other asexuals who lack the content and kindness others get. Writing this for every fanfic I've read where the character breaks up with the reader for being asexual and doing better. 

That said, Everything will be entirely my headcanons and you aren’t required to agree with my interpretations of the characters and story.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil will give you a fond smile, because honestly he’s just happy you are willing to tell him, and that you feel safe enough to do so. He’ll treat you no differently than he has, still being a caring and considerate boyfriend. Since boundaries are the most important thing in any relationship he’s probably going to make sure that he understands your boundaries and make sure that none have changed for you. Or if some boundaries have changed to make sure he understands them and to make mental notes. After all, he knows very well what it’s like to have someone cross boundaries, he absolutely would not want to cross his significant others boundaries and be the source of their discomfort.

Vil has always been one to find different ways to show affection, some more traditional than others. Gifting flowers, brushing your hair, doing each other's nails, greeting you with a kiss to the back of your hand, Taps on the shoulder or wrist to say I love you, holding pinkies, or even pinkie promises. He absolutely cherishes forehead kisses above all else, he’d even lean down for one if requested. He’d find any way to bring a smile to your face because that’s all he really wants, is for you to be happy.

Honestly, I think the longer the relationship goes on, and more specifically as his understanding of asexuality develops. I think Vil slowly comes to the conclusion that all too well describes himself. He comes to enjoy quality time, and other gestures of intimacy that he finds more enriching and cherish worthy. In fact he learns the value of words of affirmation and learns to appreciate them in a new light with his significant other. Because giving sincere compliments and affirmations to someone he cares about deeply feels beautiful and receiving them from the same person ? even more so.

At the end of the day, He’ll always make sure you're comfortable with what he is doing. If you ask him to stop, he’ll listen and stop and make sure you're okay. He mostly just wants someone he can trust and spend his spare time relaxing with. Considering the rest of his time is spent being busy and stressed. So being able to make each other comfortable and spend time resting and relaxing, making each other smile is more than enough for him.

Jamil Viper

Jamil at first might not completely understand, however he is a fantastic listener, so he will let you explain and ask questions to make sure he understands completely. He is very calm and understanding throughout the whole thing. He’ll make sure to ask what is acceptable and what is completely off the table. Regardless of whatever those boundaries may look like he is bothered because at the end of the day he just wants you to be comfortable and happy. To him it's rather simple like that. Because he values your boundaries and your comfort. Much like he wants his significant other to understand and respect his own.

He most certainly shows love in less physical ways, touch isn’t something he is particularly good at. However, he is quite fond of gifting his significant other two things, flowers and food. The flowers are specifically chosen with care, they always have a hidden meaning of their own, and he often doesn’t enjoy cooking for others, for his significant other it is different. He wants to make sure they are well fed and taken care of.

More importantly he is just a sucker for quality time, especially since he is also a busy person. So if you guys are just in the same room spending time together he is very appreciative of that time together. Sometimes that may look like cuddling together and not doing anything for about 30 or 40 minutes. Sometimes that looks like him doing whatever chores he has to get done while talking to you while you do something completely different. Whatever works for the two of you that day or that moment.

Jamil values communication significantly, so i’ll always be communicating what he is doing or what he plans to do, and if you voice your discomfort or disinterest he will absolutely understand and respect that. Especially if you do the same in kind for him when he isn’t comfortable with something. Needless to say he’ll always make sure that the two of you are on the same page.

Floyd Leech

As I once stated before, This to Floyd, Has changed absolutely nothing about your relationship with him. He still gets cuddles? Perfect. He still gets hugs? Even better. He does apologize whenever he does cross a boundary and learns to make up for it and not do it again. He does enjoy physical contact but that doesn’t mean he’s going to cross your boundaries, besides there are different ways to do so. He quite enjoys even the most subtle of touch.

Though, there might be some questions farther down the line that he might have, however that is something he will talk about with his significant other and the two will decide on how you both will handle things moving forward. Because he is considerate about his significant others' wants and thoughts on important and trivial matters. Especially considering how much damage he would create in the hypothetical of someone just being disrespectful towards his significant other, for any reason.

That said, Floyd is more than happy to just spend time with you. That may be pulling you along to pull some prank, go on an adventure of some kind, scare the daylights out of younger students, or maybe just being a cuddle puddle on the floor, either watching something together or talking endlessly about anything and everything. You’d be surprised how philosophical and down to earth Floyd can get sometimes. Oftentimes talks can go for hours and feel very cathartic.

Honestly as long as you enjoy supporting him in whatever he is doing whether that's on the sports team or whatever antics he gets up to he doesn’t mind or care. As long as you are both happy and enjoying life to the fullest. He, far more cares about being able to dance with you under the moonlight and having thought provoking conversation at late hours that ends with you telling him to shut up and go to bed because it's 3 am.

Azul Ashengrotto

The first thing that comes to mind while rewriting this for Azul is that I think he would honestly be relieved. Clears the air for him and removes a lot of self placed expectations from himself. Honestly makes him feel better and helps him relax a little bit in the relationship. Big heart to heart conversation about wants, needs, expectations and boundaries that should leave you both feeling better and more confident with each other.

He will do his best to set aside time to spend time with you, and when he has to cancel plans he often will get you something to make up for it. Not that it’ll solve the problem but he usually does it so he can give it to you in person and spend time with you anyway. Its usually something that you had mentioned needing or wanting or needing a replacement of something. He wants his gifts to be thoughtful, practical and helpful.

Even when it comes to simply cuddling on the couch he’ll make sure you're comfortable and make sure you're okay with where his hands are resting. He enjoys quiet peaceful relaxing time with his significant other. Nothing has to be happening, maybe the radio is on, or the tv. Maybe you're both doing your own things, but just getting to be in each other's presence with no expectation of the other is nice.

Post it note messages. He won't admit how soft he gets when he sees a note you left him. Not to mention he’ll find ways to slip you notes in return. They will always be unapologetically sweet and sappy. Not to mention he’ll find ways to just let you know that he was thinking of you and that he loves and cares about you. Even if it is just a short message saying I love you.

Lilila Vanrouge

Previously I had said Lilia was Asexual, today I say he is still Asexual and very much so polyamorous, No I won’t elaborate on how or why. He is a hopeless romantic by nature and that manifests in many different ways. He will be the most understanding and accommodating and will continue to fall head over heels for you. He’d do many things for those he cares and loves oh so dearly, and you will be able to feel his affections on an emotional level.

Poetry, Love letters, cheesy pickup lines, flowers, cute or thoughtful gifts, he’d even serenade you outside your bedroom window if you let the man. Most of the ways he shows love aren’t very physical to the touch, they are actions of love. Doing laundry for you, or getting you coffee while you're busy. Bringing you something to help you fall asleep on a sleepless night. Telling a story to make you laugh or maybe feel better. He’ll literally sweep you off your feet if you let him.

Consider him inviting you over for afternoon tea on a day off, a harp and piano playing a soft melody as the two of you dance in the gardens peacefully. Honestly he’d probably pull this off at any time of day for as long as it felt magical and enchanting for you. Because at the end of the day he just wants his significant other to feel loved. Ideally the goal for him is for you both to continue to fall in love over and over again.

Cold winter nights will be spent drinking your favorite warm or winter drink of choice, cuddled up together by the fireplace. Lilia softly humming a melody of unknown or forgotten origin. Curled up in more handmade blankets than you can count. This could also apply to cold rainy days.

[scarletskiesinthepaths]

Levi, Emotional Expression, and Social Interaction

I've seen different posts on Levi lately across different platforms that claim he is a cruel or mean person, which are fundamental misunderstandings of his character. I sort of see the problem as people mistaking Levi's emotional expressions (or lack thereof) as indicative of malicious intent or rude behavior. As such, I wanted to discuss how Levi's history and trauma have shaped how he expresses himself and relates to others. Once one has an understanding of that, it becomes evident that Levi's expressions should not be used to judge his intentions or feelings.

I wrote another post on how Levi fully meets the criteria for post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) on my main blog, and that diagnosis is important for understanding Levi as a character, as he's someone who's been largely affected by his trauma. To further expand on that post, we're going to discuss both Levi's affect and his ways of socially interacting with others, using concepts such as social modeling and self-monitoring.

What is Emotional Affect?

Affect, in psychology, refers to a patient's expression of emotion. Expression of emotion encompasses facial expressions, gestures, body language, tone of voice, etc. Mood, on the other hand, refers to the internal state of a patient's emotions sustained over a period of time. Affect helps us interpret a person's mood; however, there are such situations where affect can be considered inappropriate—that is, the person's affect is not entirely congruent (i.e., consistent) with the person's present mood and/or situation. A classic example of inappropriate affect would be laughing at a funeral, as that is incongruent with the context of the situation. Another example—a patient who is smiling and laughing after being involuntarily committed is considered to have an inappropriately euphoric affect.

Affect can be described across multiple dimensions, but the two most typically used are the quality of affect and the range of affect. Quality of affect is typically categorized as either euthymic (normal), dysthymic (depression, anxiety, guilt), or euphoric (an abnormally elevated sense of well-being, such as in mania). The range of affect can be labeled as labile, broad, restricted, blunted, or flat. Broad is considered the normal range of affect.

For the purposes of conciseness, we're going to focus on blunted and flat affects, as those are the range of affects that are best suited to describing Levi. Flat affect is when there is no variation in the patient's emotional expressions, regardless of their mood and situation. Blunted affect is similar, but it is a bit less severe—it means minimal variation. Practically, what do these mean?

Levi's Affect

When Kenny first finds Levi as a child, Levi is in a severe state of neglect; he is dying of starvation, he is wearing rags, his hair is unkempt, and he is sitting in the same room as his mother's decaying corpse. A typical child in this developmental range would be in extreme distress: crying, expressing fear, pleading for help, etc. However, Levi shows no such displays of emotions; he does not cry, he does not move, and he barely speaks. In fact, there is absolutely zero emotional expression, and there is no indicator he is upset about his situation (even as it is clear he must be). This is flat affect. Even in the short montage we see after Kenny has taken Levi under his "care", Levi never once shows variation in his emotional expression—no anger, no laugher, nothing.

Once Levi is an adult during the present timeline in the series, Levi exceedingly rarely displays his emotions. He often speaks in monotone, minimally varying the tone or volume of his voice—never yelling as well, even when angry. His smiles are so rare that it's a notable moment when he does smile (such as when Historia punched him at end of the "Royal Government" arc), and he never cries even after significant personal losses (except his one tear at the end of the series). His affect as an adult ranges from flat to blunted. This is significant too because we do know that his mood does vary, as it's clear from his verbal and body language the toll that different events take on him, and he does also display a sense of humor across the series. Again, though, his emotional expression does little to reflect how he's feeling.

What Causes Flat Affect?

To give a quick list of the most common causes:

Schizophrenia and other psychotic-spectrum disorders

Brain damage, such as from organic brain pathology or a traumatic brain injury

Neurodevelopmental disorders, such as autism spectrum disorder (ASD)

Severe psychological trauma, typically resulting in post-traumatic stress disorder

Major Depressive Disorder (MDD)

I will say outright that there is no evidence Levi suffers from schizophrenia, and thus, that is unlikely to be the cause of his flat/blunted affect, especially given the onset of Levi's flat affect and the exceeding rarity of childhood-onset schizophrenia. Similar reasoning applies to brain damage, so both of those can be excluded from the differential.

I do believe Levi meets the criteria for MDD in adulthood; however, that would be more so a comorbidity of his existing PTSD. Levi looked to be around 4-6 years of age at the start of Kenny's flashbacks, and MDD in that age group is quite uncommon, even when accounting for childhood-onset and adolescent-onset depression.

This leaves us with both severe psychological trauma and ASD as the two most likely causes of Levi's flat affect as a child and through adulthood. ASD can be a valid interpretation of Levi's significantly reduced affect display during childhood, as well as his consistent social difficulties throughout all of canon. Based on criteria laid out by the latest edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5-TR), Levi can be seen as having ASD (which I'll likely make a future post on). However, the presence of severe psychological trauma confounds this diagnosis. Despite this confounding diagnosis, it is still possible he has both PTSD and ASD.

Regardless, the most likely explanation for Levi's range of affect remains severe psychological trauma. In a child that young, something had to have gone extremely wrong in his early upbringing for his significantly reduced affect display. An entire separate post can be written on this topic, but Levi demonstrates clear signs of an insecure attachment style by the time he's discovered by Kenny; this indicates that Kuchel, despite having loved Levi, was simply unable to properly care for him, and this resulted in deep and ingrained psychological trauma that affected Levi's ability to socially relate and interact with others for the rest of his life. I intend on going into more detail in a separate post, but Levi's attachment style is likely insecure-avoidant or insecure-disorganized.

Observational Learning and Social Modeling

Albert Bandura's social learning theory posits that children learn through a combination of traditional behaviorist processes (classical and operant conditioning), cognitive processes, in addition to observation and modeling. In reference to Levi, observational learning is the most salient aspect of this theory.

In simple terms, observational learning refers to the way children observe the people around them. Individuals observed are referred to as models. Models can include, but are not limited to, parents/caregivers, TV characters, school teachers, and friends within a peer group. Basically, children pay attention to these models and encode their behavior into their memory. At a later time, this behavior is then imitated. This is referred to as "social modeling".

Who were Levi's models? Kuchel, Kuchel's patrons at the brothel she worked at, Kenny, and others who lived in or frequented the Underground City.

Given Kuchel's circumstances and the danger of human trafficking in the Underground, it is likely she taught Levi to avoid interacting with anyone in order to ensure his safety. Kuchel's patrons, in all likelihood, abused her and Levi was most assuredly witness to this abuse or the effects of it in some way. Then, Kenny—Levi's most significant parental figure—was a prominent serial killer who displayed and actively taught Levi violence.

All of this points to Levi never having had the opportunity to learn proper social interaction. In fact, he was actively taught inappropriate and unhealthy ways to socially interact. Not only was Levi's emotional development stunted and severely impacted as shown through his lack of affect, but his ability to socially interact and relate to others was inhibited due to both his insecure attachment and the absence of appropriate social models. How does this manifest in Levi?

Self-Monitoring

Self-monitoring is the degree to which people monitor and adjust their self-presentations when interacting with others and across different social contexts. Whether someone is a high or low self monitor can be affected by their natural personality, their experiences growing up, and/or their neuropsychobiology.

High self monitors tend to be actively aware of the social image they are projecting, and they will be adept at responding to social cues. They will also vary the image they project dependent upon who they are interacting with and what the social circumstances are. They have greater concern over situational appropriateness, and they are often perceived as more friendly and pleasant by others.

In contrast, low self monitors tend to exhibit emotional expressiveness and social responses more congruent with their internal states regardless of social context. That is, they do not adjust their beliefs, attitudes, and dispositions to be more socially acceptable. As such, they are often perceived as rude, socially awkward, and/or unaware of others' social needs.

Levi is a low self monitor. Regardless of who he is interacting with or what the situation is, he consistently maintains the same attitudes and beliefs; he is always honest and says what he's feeling. He never adjusts his social tone, even when it would make him more appeasing to others. Throughout the series, he's often referred to as rude, socially awkward, a lunatic, etc. for his inability to self-monitor. This is a likely a result of the aforementioned psychological trauma, his lack of appropriate social models, his innate introverted nature, and his potential ASD.

Summary

My goal with this post was to explain how Levi's trauma and experiences growing up have formed the way he expresses himself and interacts with others. Levi never sets out to be seen as rude, unkind, or cruel. In fact, I'd say he is by far the kindest and most compassionate character in all of Attack on Titan. However, because of his social disposition, he is consistently misperceived by both characters in the series, as well as readers/viewers. Levi, through a combination of his innate nature and the environment in which he grew up, simply lacks the social skills and affinity for social interaction to properly explain himself and come across as more palatable to others.

Note: I am a doctor of psychology student, so much of this information has been informed by my schooling.