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#fast secured credit
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okay wait laughingstock concept Incoming: so im imagining some of the neighbors (maybe Julie & Frank) noticing that Barnaby & Howdy are a lil fruity, yk yk. and Julie's like damn, i guess we have to play matchmaker here.
so naturally they wind up getting the whole neighborhood involved. everybody's a wingman here. Poppy's dropping hints when Howdy drops off groceries, Wally is constantly asking Barnaby to go get him things from the bodega, etc etc. Howdy and Barnaby are facing this sudden change in town-wide behavior with slight concern and bemusement
eventually - lets say Julie, Sally, and Wally - get Barnaby into the bodega and then abruptly leave like "don't have too much fun without us you two *wink wink nudge nudge*". once they're gone (read: very obviously hiding outside & watching through the window) Barnaby & Howdy turn to each other like:
Barnaby: you think we should tell them we're already married?
Howdy: let them have their fun - they'll figure it out eventually
#dont have the mental fortitude to Draw This but i still wanted to share the thought#'but how would no one notice that theyre literally married'#easy: theyre very relaxed and secure in their relationship. also howdy has a strict 'no pda at work' rule#also because its funny. we can stretch rationality for the Bit cmon now#through the power of the bit Anything is possible#and we all know the neighbors are Peak Sillies so. yk#it strikes me that once they get Bored of the constant 'matchmaking'#barnaby and howdy stage this whole thing where they 'confess' to each other So dramatically and So publicly#they make it an Event#sally is swooning from the drama and spectacle of it all. wally is trying to paint the moment as fast as possible#julie is so excited she's close to passing out. eddie is crying. so is poppy. frank is taking the credit. home is just happy to be there#as soon as barnaby and howdy retreat out of sight they burst out laughing for a solid ten minutes#GAH THE BRAINROT THE BRAINROT#laughingstock#wailing and sobbing they are so so good together and FOR WHAT FUCKING REASON#i cant even put it into words they just Fit! like puzzle pieces!#theres something so natural about em. i look at them and its like. they Would be perfect for each other huh#i already know theyd have such a healthy wholesome relationship They Just Work. Theyre The Dream Couple#howdy says the most confusing sentence ever said. barnaby nods along with genuine love in his eyes. etc. you get it#now watch! canon is gonna absolutely set this on fire!#which would be Fun. painful. but Fun. seriously tho im curious as to how/if barnaby and howdy will interact/develop....#i mean personally i love it when shit gets messy so i hope it Hurts So Bad or at least Goes Downhill#i hope its a rollercoaster on all accounts
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Submitted my application for my credits next year!!!
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hwalovs · 11 months
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Days and Nights (M)
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Pairing; Mike Schmidt x reader Word count; 2635 Warnings; this is pure smut, maybe a little plot. Kissing, whining, dom/sub themes, unprotected sex (wrap it you freaks), they get right to it, breeding kink? kind of?, they'reliterallyinloveshutupbro
Description; Being the day shift guard has its perks, you get to leave at midnight, you get to leave for lunch while all the fast food restaurants were still open, and you get to see the cute night shift guard before you leave.
A/N; i am feral for this man, I don't know what happened. one day i watched the movie, the next im frothing at the mouth for another white boy. this is so short i might write something longer for him.
after finding my fic reposted on wattpad, I'm going to make clear; DO NOT REPOST THIS WITHOUT ASKING OR WITHOUT PROPER CREDIT.
I will only let this pass once, as for my other fics, DO NOT REPOST THEM.
THIS IS NOT EDITED
Mike was hired two months before you, first seeing you before he started his nightly shift at the pizzeria. You were standing outside, reading through a book before looking up when you heard his car door shut. You smiled, and dropped your book back into your bag before walking over. Your car was parked further away from his, but you went out of your way to walk up to him. 
From then on, you two were friends, always seeing each other after your shift and before his. You always made sure his badge was straight, and he always made sure to tell you to get home safe. Sometimes you both would stop to ask each other about your days, he talked about his sister, and you talked about your cats. 
One day, he got there a little early, wanting to get in and use his time to sleep, to try and find more clues about what happened to his brother. He found you asleep at the security desk. Snoring softly, the monitors flickering in and out. He smiled, setting his stuff down besides yours before walking closer, bending down so he could see you more clearly. One of your cheeks was squished against your arm, your breathing even. 
“(Y/n),” he cooed, reaching up to move a piece of your hair. You stir, slowly opening your eyes before realizing who it was in front of you. Shooting up, you rub your eyes and stutter, looking at him, and then the clock.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t even realize I fell asleep!”
He smiles, standing back up and leaning against the desk. He watched you rush around with tired eyes, collecting your stuff while rattling on how active the animatronics were. 
He found you like once or twice, but never regularly. Sometimes he would find a forgotten coffee cup, and he would smile before throwing it away. It was the little things about you that he was slowly picking up on. He remembered each one, and wanted to learn more about you. 
Mike knew he was in too deep when you were getting ready to leave one day, packing up the rest of your stuff and flashing him that dazzling smile you always did. It made him forget the Dream Theory book resting in his bag, or the pills that accompany it. He forgot for just a second why he was there so early, why he was itching to fall asleep at the desk in the first place. 
You stand from the chair, badge catching the light, and when you sigh and roll your neck, whimpering at the tight knot, he shivers. He shouldn't, he knows that, you're his coworker, someone who endures the same nightmare he did- but he couldn’t stop the thoughts of you underneath him, whimpering as he sunk deeper inside you, stopping when his hips were flush against-
“Mike!” 
Your voice felt like ice water, rattling him until he was back in reality. He shifts, hoping that his sweatshirt covers how hard he was. There was a small part of him, deep within his brain, that did hope you saw, that you’d offer to help him. 
“Yeah?” He clears his throat, swallowing when his mouth waters. Smiling, you tilt your head, and he feels his stomach drop. 
“Did you hear me?”
He curses himself, “yeah! Yeah.”
Your eyes narrow, “what did I say, then?”
You were teasing him. You had to be, you were smiling again, and as you walked closer, he tried to rack his brain, trying to remember what you were saying. 
“Cat got your tongue?” Your voice is quiet, and you’re right in front of him. He can smell your perfume, can see the shine of your chapstick that's on your lips. 
“I- uh-”
“You’re so cute,” you chuckle, and it throws him off balance. He almost falls from the whiplash you’ve given him. You usually don’t stop to talk to him like this, you usually pack up and bid your goodbyes, warning him on the animatronics movement- but with how close you were, that he could smell your perfume, he realized he didn’t care. You were here, in front of him, calling him cute.
“What?”
You lean in close this time, your breath tickling his ear. 
“You heard me, Mike. Or are you lost in your thoughts again?”
Your lips press against his and it's the only thing he can think about. Your lips taste like strawberries, and your mouth tastes exactly like he thought it would. Your hands are in his hair, and his are gripping your waist tightly. 
He wonders when he’ll wake up, if this is a dream. When you lightly bite his lip, he moans, and comes to the conclusion that you’re real, and you’re kissing him. 
Pushing you both from the doorway, he backs you up to the desk. Kicking the chair away, he blindly reaches behind you to push away the small controllers that litter the top. He hears something crash onto the floor, but pays it no mind when you're sucking on his tongue. 
His hands reach under your thighs, lifting you onto the desk, and your hands fumble at his belt, the fog that settled on his mind clears for a moment, and he pulls away.
“Here?”
You furrow your eyebrows, before smirking and leaning forwards, “you don’t want it?”
“I do- I really do-”
“Then what’s stopping you?” He tries to think, but can’t when it's only youyouyou on his mind. Flooding his senses, invading his thoughts and making him feel crazy ever since the day he met you. His jeans are tight, and he can feel the precum that's pooling in his underwear. 
“Fuck,” he surges to kiss you again, reaching down to unbutton your jeans. He slides his hands into the waistband, and you use the edge of the desk to push yourself up, letting him yank the jeans off in one fluid motion, your panties going with it. 
The desk was cold on your skin, but you didn’t care when Mike lifted his shirt, biting into the fabric and pushing his pants down far enough to free his cock.
In any other situation, Mike would have you in his bed, pillow under your hips while he eats you out for hours on end. He knew you would taste amazing, just like he knew your mouth would taste amazing. You were perfect to him, and that's the only thing on his mind when he was pressing into you. 
Mike's cock was thick, stretching you out perfectly, a slight burn following. You didn’t stop him, though, because his eyes were locked onto where his cock was slowly sinking into you, and his hands were shaking at the warmth you brought him. 
The monitors behind you continued to show the empty space of the Pizzaria, but it was at the back of both of your minds. Mike’s shirt was still caught between his teeth, his stomach smooth and perfect. He didn’t make a sound until his hips were flush against yours, and the whine he let out made you clench around him. 
His eyebrows furrowed, and he finally looked up at you, pupils dilated, curly hair a mess. Reaching up, you pull the shirt from between his teeth, the fabric wet, and grab the back of his head to drag him into a kiss. His lips are hot against yours, and his tongue licks into your mouth desperately. He moans as he tastes you again, and you grab his hips, trying to pull him further. 
When you pull away, you suck onto his bottom lip, looking at him through your lashes, “look at you,” you coo, “you’re so pretty, baby.”
He whines, blushing as he grinds against you. Finally finding a slow rhythm of deep thrusts. It lets you feel all of him, and lets him feel all of you. He stretched you out so well, and it almost felt like you could feel him in your stomach. He was perfect. 
“You’re so warm,” he whimpers, forehead resting against yours. Pulling at your vest, you manage to throw it to the floor with his, the metal badge chiming against the linoleum. He seems to understand what you’re doing, reaching for the end of your t-shirt, pulling it up quickly. The office was cold, your nipples hardening underneath your bra. You grab at his shirt next, his arms raising so you’re able to throw the shirt to the floor. His hips falter, but he continues.
Mike begins to leave kisses down your neck, biting your bra strap to push it to the side, letting it fall down your arm. He grabs the top of your bra, yanking it down and groaning at the sight of your exposed chest. 
“Fuck,” he curses, licking his lips before surging forwards, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, tongue swirling the bud. Your head falls back against the top of the monitor, moaning loudly. 
Mike pulls away, a string of saliva connects his bottom lip to your nipple, but you lift your head to move closer, licking the spit from his lip to kiss him again. 
There was a heat slowly building in your gut, and you wrap an arm around Mike’s shoulders, trying to make him go harder, to go faster, but he just looks at you with a smirk.
“What is it? Huh?” He asks, his breath heavy. You whine, nails scratching at his skin. 
“Mike-”
He tsks, “common, baby,” he coos, “talk to me.”
“Please- Mike please- harder, fuck me harder,” theres a heat in your cheeks, and you feel your eyes burn at the building coil in your gut. 
Yet, Mike only looks at you with a growing smile, “Harder? You want me to fuck you harder, baby? But why?” He whines, “You feel so good like this.”
“Oh my god,” you moan in frustration, hand reaching in between you both to reach your clit, but his hand grabs your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 
“What is it, baby?”
There's that teasing smirk again, and you can feel your eyes burn. Your orgasm was right there, yet he was slowing down, causing it to be pushed further away. 
“I wanna cum, please, Mike- Please make me cum,” a sob threatens to spill from your lips, but Mike shushes you, kissing you softly. His stubble tickles your cheeks as he lays kisses onto your skin. He bites onto your neck, moaning as you clench around him again, sucking until the skin is bright red. 
He grabs onto your hips, leaning back to look down at where he disappears into you, and begins thrusting harder, letting go of your wrist to allow you to grab onto his shoulders once more. Bringing a hand to his mouth, he licks the pad of his thumb before snaking it between your bodies, rubbing tight circles around your clit. 
Throwing your head back, you almost cry at the hot coil in your stomach threatening to snap, and you can feel the tears that roll down your cheeks. 
“Please- Please, make me cum- wanna cum so bad-” you begging, pleading, in jumbled words that Mike can barely make out. Your legs are locked around his waist, pulling him closer. 
When you cum, your thighs tense around his waist, almost stopping him. Your mouth drops open, and a soft whine falls from your lips. You're clenching so tight around him, Mike almost cums himself, but bends down to bite onto your shoulder to stop himself. He refuses to cum yet, he wants to keep making you feel good. To see you fall apart around him again. 
He leaves another kiss where he was biting down on you, pulling away to leave kisses across your cheeks, before finally stopping to kiss you once more. You're breathing heavily, thighs shaking from the intense orgasm. 
Sliding out of you, he whines softly, pulling you from the desk so you’re standing, he only smiles at your confused face, grabbing your neck softly to pull you into another kiss, tongue licking into your mouth.
“Turn around, baby,” he sighs, holding your hips as you do. The table digs into your hips as you bend down, breasts pressing flat against the cold surface, but he tsks, grabbing your neck once more to pull you back up. His thumb was below your jaw, pressing against your pulse point just enough to feel your heart race.
He uses his other hand to press onto your lower back, making you arch, then reaching down to grab his cock once more and slide through your folds. You were so wet, cum slowly beginning to drip down your thighs. In one smooth thrust, Mike presses his hips flush against your ass, his hand still lightly gripping your neck to keep you against his chest. 
“There you go,” he whimpers, pressing kisses along your shoulders. He starts to thrust again, and you have to bite your lip to stop from moaning loudly. 
He felt so much deeper like this, hitting the spot inside you that had your eyes rolling back. 
There was still a buzz from your orgasm, but it was quickly building into another. Your thighs were shaking, and your palms were flat on the desk, nails digging into the wood. 
“M’gonna cum again-” you moan, knees almost buckling as the rapidly building heat. Mike smiles from behind you, but moves his hand from your waist again, snaking it down once more to circle his fingers around your swollen clit. 
“Again? You gonna cum for me again, pretty girl?”
“Oh my god- Mike-” You’re cumming before you even realize it. Head blank except for the thought of him-
His grip on your throat tightens just slightly, and you reach up to grab his wrist. His hips falter, breathy moans filling your ears as he presses your hips harder into the desk. You knew there would be bruising, but at the moment you didn’t care. You would let Mike do anything he wanted to you, as long as he kept making those heavenly noises for you. 
“You feel so fuckin’ good baby,” he slurs, “my pretty baby- you’re just perfect f’me- Perfect fuckin’ pussy too-” 
“Mike, please” you whimper, arching your back more for him. 
He hums, thrusting harder into you, “that's right baby-” he leans forwards to tilt your head, locking eyes with you, “say my name.”
“Mike-”
He groans, head rolling until your noses touch, “again, say it again baby- please-”
“Mike!-” 
“I’m gonna cum- fuck-” 
Your hand is wrapping around the grab onto him, nails dragging across his skin, “Inside me- please cum inside me- wanna feel you so bad-” 
Mike’s thrusts stop, grinding against you as he spills inside of you. Uttering your name under his breath like it's the only thing he’s ever known. 
You were everything he’s ever wanted. To have you clenching so tight around him, to be able to have you like this was like a dream to him. He never wanted to wake, he wanted to stay here with you forever, but as you both collected yourselves, his cum sliding down your thighs and dripping onto the floor, he knew better than that. He’s sitting in that uncomfortable chair again, watching as you slide your jeans on. You forgo your panties, reaching down to unzip his bag, smiling as you let them drop inside. 
“Do you wanna go on a date?”
You laugh, and it fills the room with a brightness he knew only you could bring. 
“I think we’re way past going on a date.”
“Then how about dinner? I make a mean Spaghetti and meatballs,” he smiles, and feels like his world is complete when you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, “I’d love that.”
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elliesmainhoe · 9 months
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Ellie Williams Headcanons : RichOlderWoman!Ellie
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I got this as an ask but Tumblr ate it 😱 so here you go anon.
Okay Okay. So, first things first, from day one Ellie was always adamant when saying that you were NEVER her sugar baby.
you were just her controversially young girlfriend who she liked to spoil and have perched on her lap during boring business meetings.
speaking of SPOLING-
she regularly takes you on trips to expensive high end malls which exclusively house designer brands and WILL buy you anything you look at as long as you hold her hand while you both walk around.
but CEO Ellie Williams is a busy woman, and doesn't always have a long enough interval between meetings to keep you company.
in those cases she simply kisses you cheek and forehead before handing you a small black card and saying "give me a show of everything you buy when I get home, hm?"
arthritis may be fast approaching but those hips do not slow
(jk she's only in her late thirties, and you know for a fact the extent of working out she does keeps her joints in check)
in fact she gives the best strap game. the experience and the variety of expensive toys and the regular gym routine = 🤩
always her arm candy
every once in a while after lovingly gazing at you for a little too long, looking at your soft supple thighs, pink lipstick coated lips and shiny hair cascading beautifully from your head. she feels insecure?
it's an odd feeling.
an unfamiliar feeling.
but Ellie is mature, it's one thing you admire about herand she knows that a problem won't be resolved unless she talks to you.
so she does, and as soon as the voices of concern fall from her lips, you soon put those thoughts to rest <333
she does the same to you!!
it was a normal day, you woke up to a cup of coffee on your bed side, a small pastry from your favorite bakery, a credit card and a note which read:
"Good Morning my love, I completely forgot about the early morning meeting I had today. I got you some pastries as an apology, I'm sorry we can't go shopping today like we planned, but here's my card and the driver can take you to the mall.
Love you pretty girl, Ellie x"
•••••••
it was a while later when Joel, your driver, pulled up outside the office building, you thanked him swiftly and walked quickly towards the automatic doors of 'Williams Enterprises Headquarters', expensive jimmy choo heels clicking against the concrete entrance. The security guard, Bob, nodded his head in greeting and you returned the gesture with a smile.
The receptionist was... different. the usual blonde haired girl was replaced by a middle aged woman with greying hair, deep set wrinkles imbedded in pale skin. "Hi what can I do for you today?" a high squeaky voice came from her mouth. a tone of voice you knew from years of retail work and customer service, you winced instinctively.
"Hi, I'm here to see Miss Williams." you reply, fingers tightening on the strap of the mulberry purse Ellie had gifted you for your 2nd anniversary a few months passed.
"hmmm. I don't see you on the schedule, do you have an appointment?" she smiled, the fakeness clear and tone of voice irritated.
"oh, uhm no. I'm her girlfriend" silence. the fake smile plastered on the woman's face falling, as she looked over behind her to a colleague who nodded in confirmation of the story you had given her.
"sorry if this is intrusive kid, but aren't you a little young." she spoke, and chewed a piece of him you hadn't noticed before rather obnoxiously. "I mean I can tell you're..." her eyes scanned your frame "reaping the benefits."
"I mean, god I can't blame you" she continued " if I had the looks and youth I once did I would happily suck off anyone for chanel. Now tell me doll, how much surgery has Mrs. Williams paid for you to have done, surely those tits aren't real?"
you quickly brushed past her, ignoring the intrusive questions and stepped into the elevator, pressing the floor Ellie's office resided on.
the site of you immediately brought a smile onto your girlfriend's previously pinched and visibly frustrated face. "Hi pretty girl,", she pushed out her chair from behind her desk, patting her thigh for you to sit on. "Hi Els." the frown you couldn't quite erase from your features furrowed your brows in a way Ellie couldn't ignore.
"What happened baby? you upset with me for leaving earlier?" she asked softly, adjusting you on her lap and kissing your temple. "nah it's not that- I just-" your hands instinctively began playing with Ellie's fingers, twisting the ring on her index finger slowly. "the new lady, in reception. she said something-" you sighed. "and I just can't shake it."
"do you think that, I'm a burden? that the fact I'm so young means I'm leeching off you? I don't want to do that Ells. I like dresses and bags and makeup and you give that to me because you can, but I just- if you ever don't want to buy me stuff, please tell me Ells, I don't want to take and take and take when you don't want me to."
a soft chuckle shook Ellie's chest "pretty girl, look at me. The reason I work is to spoil you, the reason I go to these bullshit meetings with these stuckup assholes is to give you and me a life where money is no object. I love you sweet girl" she kissed your plush lips, the tension seemingly draining out of your body at the touch.
"now, which receptionist said that?"
•••••••••
A/N: cute little hc and drabble to get me back into the swing of things.
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em-dash-press · 1 year
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Ways to Skip Time In Your Stories
Finding ways to skip time in stories can feel challenging. Writers often worry it’ll make their work feel too amateur or negatively affect their pacing. 
The truth is that every author includes ways they skip time to maintain their pacing and plot. Check out a few ways to do it with confidence. 
1. Start a New Chapter
Yes, it’s really that simple. Go back to your favorite books and note how each chapter ends. You’ll likely find a few of these tricks that transition the story in ways that match the story’s flow.
Ideas to End a Chapter
The protagonist goes to sleep (likely overused, but practical)
The characters end a conversation
One character informs another of a plot twist
Unexpected action occurs, like a car crash
2. Emphasize the Season
You don’t need to tell the reader exact dates or hours to pass the time. You could mention the season instead.
If a scene or chapter ends in the summer and you need your plot to start in winter, make your protagonist mention something about the leaves changing color and giving way to snow before your action picks up again. It will only take a sentence or two, so it’s also an effective method for short stories.
3. Visualize a Movie Montage
Imagine watching a movie about a character who goes on a summer adventure. They backpack through Europe, but they have to take a flight to get there. 
You likely wouldn’t see them standing in airport security lines, napping in a terminal or watching a full movie on their flight to their destination. Instead, you’d get a montage of them driving to the airport with a shot of their plane cruising over the open ocean.
Writers can do the same thing, minus the soundtrack in the background. Describe how your character got to their destination when a new chapter or scene starts. Your readers will get the general idea and appreciate getting straight to the plot that made them pick up your story in the first place.
Here are a few ideas to do this in just a few sentences:
One delayed flight and a bad airplane dinner later, I was walking out of the Amsterdam-Schiphol Airport with an aching back and excited heart.
My trip began with the perfect flight. I got an entire row of seats to myself, which made napping through the trip much easier. A flight attendant roused me awake when it was time to land. I couldn’t believe how fast I’d arrived in Athens that quickly.
My flight was just long enough to catch up on the movies I’d been missing over the last year. The landing gear bounced along the runway in Rome just as the Barbie credits started flashing across my iPad.
4. Showcase Some Confusion
Sometimes we aren’t aware of what time it is. We only know time has passed. That might be the best way to make time pass in your story if your protagonist gets confused, caught by surprise, or otherwise discombobulated.
These are some examples:
I woke up with a bad taste in my mouth. The sun was already peaking in the clear blue sky. How long had it been since my explosive video call with my ex the night before?
The time machine landed with a thud that knocked me to the ground. The control panel exploded in shimmering sparks. What year was it?
Working a double shift always left my brain spinning. I left work, walking across the parking lot with only the stars watching my back. I could feel the hours aching in my feet, but didn’t care what time it really was. I just needed to sleep.
5. Employ a Phrase
There are many quick phrases you can use to make your time jumps immediately clear. Consider using a few of these when you feel creatively stuck:
Later that morning
A few weeks later
After months of trying
Six hours later
The following week
As the store closed for the night
-----
There are many other ways to make time pass in a story. Starting with these could help you figure out the best way to move your story forward without disrupting its pacing. 
Remember, you’re in control of your story at all times. There’s always a way through creative challenges if you take a deep breath and try something new.
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vampiricgf · 10 days
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WATER SONG [PT. 1]
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merman leon x gov't researcher reader
word count : 7k+
warnings : female reader, reader has a sort of type A personality and some mild anger issues, talk of medical experiments, he's referred to as a subject and specimen quite a lot, descriptions of predatory behavior (animal kind, not the sexual kind), slow pace, sfw, lots of yearning for touch
okay part one isn't terribly exciting im sorry ajdgakab I just wanted to establish a connection between the reader and him in the setting n such before developing any deeper connection. also like 1% research went into this so im sorry if you're knowledgeable about oceanic research this'll probably piss you off lmao. also all credit for this au idea goes to @/bunnivievve tysm for letting me write a lil interpretation of your idea! this was inspired by this post of theirs as well ‹𝟹
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JUNE
Subject Zero. 
Male, combined characteristics of humanoids and aquatic species. Captured by a trawling vessel, out in deep waters usually traversed by cargo freighters but occasionally by commercial fishing vessels. A freak happenstance. When the net had been dredged up in a fantastic spray of salt water, the hoard of tuna quickly spilling into the sorting containers, the men on deck had spotted something much larger than white fin tuna thrashing in the net. 
Upon careful inspection they feared they’d pulled up a man, some poor unfortunate victim of a seafaring disaster. A capsized or otherwise destroyed vessel, a near drowning victim that had fallen overboard perhaps. 
Until they spotted the flashing of sharp teeth, and the thick, muscled tail slamming against the wet metal under their feet. 
Thankfully their transmission to the Coast Guard was intercepted, a naval craft catching the broadcast and setting course as fast as possible for the trawler. 
And now Subject Zero finds respite in your “office”. If an office can be counted as more of an observation space, nevertheless. A part of you feels bad, the less scientifically trained and inclined part that is, for keeping such a clearly intelligent creature within a tank inside a black site. The initial placement had been… difficult. It was clear the subject missed the open ocean, and you did feel sorry that it had been so unceremoniously plucked from its home and deposited in such an alien space on land. But there was nothing to be done about it. 
He was far too valuable as a research opportunity. The cold, clinical part of your mind understood that. He was a marvel of nature, flesh and blood proof that man could be intermixed with seafaring species, it was one of the single greatest events in modern marine biology. And an immense privilege for you, the scientist chosen chiefly to study the subject. 
A dream. The government all but telling you to do whatever you deemed necessary, no concern over the expense. Gone were worries of securing grant funding for more piddling projects or the endless anxiety of thinking you would be stuck as one name in an endless list of names relegated to ordinary oceanic study. Not that your peers' works weren’t valuable, but you always held the selfish desire for notoriety. Had dreamed endlessly throughout your undergraduate program of the day your name would be the one filling up library indexes and publications with impressive, weighty studies. Discoveries so undeniable you would join the ranks of the most noteworthy in the field. 
And seemingly, your wish had been granted. Subject zero would be the gravel that paved your road to success. It’s just a pity it has to be such an intelligent creature. 
You sit back, uncuring from your hunched position at the desk, rolling your shoulders and wincing as you hear your joints popping. Documentation was a never ending pain in the ass but it had to be done, if you wanted to keep the convenience of not having to answer to nor justify your expenses to an overhead department. Ordinarily that work would be relegated to a lower priority researcher, but you preferred being able to sign off on it all yourself, comforted by the fact that there were no unforeseen surprises lurking in the documents or spreadsheets or data tables. Nothing anyone would be about to point out as a discrepancy, leaving you humiliated and floundering. 
As you close your eyes you can feel it, the hair on the back of your neck slightly on edge. The feeling of being observed. 
He seemed to prefer watching you when your back was turned or if you were otherwise unaware. If you were facing the ten foot thick glass of the massive elcousure he would recede into the farthest corners of it, shying away into watery obscurity. In a way it was cute, an obvious curiosity for the beings around him but he seemed stricken by shyness, didn’t know if you were trustworthy. Which was understandable. You were the one keeping him there, at least to his limited viewpoint. The one that denied him reentry into his former home. 
That irritatiningly scentimental part of your mind whispered to you again. 
What if he thinks you’re cruel?
So what? We don’t even know to what extend he does think. 
You say that but you do care, at least a little. Thats why you sneak him extra food. 
You sigh to yourself, pushing up from the familiar desk, palms flat on its slick glass surface before rising to your full height. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the white coat you don most of the day, every day, slung carelessly over the back of another chair at a separate station. Your badge attached via a shiny, silvery little clip. Walking over you purposefully keep your eyes directed away from the elcousure, your movements slow. This is a good opportunity to see how long he’ll watch you as long as he believes you aren’t paying attention. 
The badge is solid, though lightweight as you pick it up, bringing it closer to your face. It’s hard to believe you look so excited in the small picture in the upper lefthand corner. Your name in bold typeface as last name, first name all neatly lined up next to the photo. In it’s reflection you can see him, one hand perched against the glass, that thick midnight blue tail swishing up and down in a soft, rhythmic motion as he stays still. Ever watchful. 
Its hard to see in the little reflective glimpse but subject zero does have more… handsome features. You smile to yourself, recalling one of the other researchers giggling while telling you it wasn’t weird to note that because it was true. What man on land, with two legs, had eyes that shade of blue or a jawline that impressive? None that aren’t using photoshop or filters. 
Maybe if the discovery of the subject was publicized there would be throngs of people banging on doors trying to find out where he’s being kept. It did make you huff out a laugh, the idea that a half fish man who couldn’t speak was more appealing than the majority of men on earth. 
Maybe we should open an instagram page for him. 
You shake your head to yourself, still smiling, as you set the badge down. 
The office slash observation room remained quiet save for the occasional sound of sloshing water. It was late, well past time fo anyone other than the usual armed military guard to be roaming the facility. Well past time for you to go home. 
At that moment you turn, just enough to peek over your shoulder and as soon as your eyes fix on the spot he occupied all you catch is a low flash of dark blue, retreating into the shadowy depths encased in glass. 
~
OCTOBER
Three months of observation. 
Hardly enough to form any evidence based conclusions, but enough time to get started on the right path. You had approximately nintey days of solid data on his diet, his presenting condition each day, endless notes on his observable physiology. He preferred deep water fish, clearly an omnivore as he also didn’t mind the addition of oceanic plant species mixed with the fish when it was introduced into the tank. In fact he seemed to greatly enjoy the sudden introduction of variety, although still preferred to eat his meals in a semblance of solitude. 
His distrust was only natural, you had to remind yourself. Until such time as he’s fully used to his new environment you’re unlikely to observe any great variation in his behavior. 
At least he wasn’t showing signs of aggression. That had been a legitimate concern, and still was, of course. All proper safety precautions were followed to the letter when it came to subject zero, and absolutely no one was to physically get in the tank, not until further tests could be done on his temperament and how he reacted to certain stimuli both pleasant and unplseant. 
You grimace seeing a newly sent email notification, the little computerized ding signalling that your attention was required. 
When isn’t it?
You put the sleek desktop into split screen mode, keeping the charts on the subject to the left while your email opened to occupy the right side. Amid the usual low importance emails from general staff there was a new one, at the very top. The name made your stomach twist in preparation of the message. Dr. Gregg had, for lack of a better phrase, a raging hard on for the opportunity to remove the subject from the tank and getting it into a smaller one in order to sedate and extract genetic material. It didn’t matter that he’d already been sedated and had samples drawn when he was initially transported here, no. The good doctor wanted more than that, but you couldn’t accommodate the request in good conscience. 
Or rather, you were worried about the effect it would have on him. It could set back the last nintey days of progress, or worse, inspire severe mistrust and heightened aggression towards all researchers. There was no way, even with sedation, that cutting into him wouldn’t cause pain. And a source of pain that a creature like subject zero had no way of understanding would only lead to problems. 
The two of you had been butting heads over the issue for the last week, culminating in an argument yesterday where you all but told him to get fucked. You were the lead on this, you made the decisions and he wasn’t going to usurp your authority. Your credit. 
But as your eyes scan the email you can feel yourself getting physically hot, your blood pressure threatening to rise. 
You may be the lead, the head researcher on this project, but do not believe for one moment that I will not go above your head. You are not CIA, doctor. You don’t call the final shots here, and it would do you well to remember that. Whatever your personal feelings on subject zero, you cannot stand in the way of necessary elements that better out understanding of the creature. 
With shaking fingers you close the window, not bothering to respond and not trusting yourself to either. Every fiber of your being wanted nothing more than to march down that hallway and wring his wiry old turkey neck. Who does he think he is? He’s just some physiologist, some ancient fuck. Who is he to threaten you? If his contributions were so invaluable wouldn’t he have been made lead?
You squeeze your eyes shut, hands clenching in your lap as you breathed deeply in through your mouth and out through your nose. The meditation app you’d been using had provided you with some useful tools, being that your temper had plagued you since you were small. Always the first to fly off the handle at even the idea you could be questioned, your competence or credibility casted in doubt. 
Inferiority complex, a nasty voice giggled in your head. 
It’s not that it wasn’t true, and it was a bit of an achilles heel for you. But what took priority now was holding Gregg back, keeping him away from the subject and minimizing the risk that he could fuck it all up before you even had a chance to really begin. So, once you felt that initial flashpoint of rage quelling you reopened the email application, setting your shoulders back as you began typing. 
Under no circumstances are you permitted to sedate nor perform any surgical procedures on subject zero. You have not been given any formal authorizations, so it would do you well to remember not to threaten your head researcher in the contents of easily retrievable emails. You are free to broach the topic with any superior officer on sight, and I am more than happy to entertain a line of questioning from said superior officers on why I do not believe it to be prudent at this juncture to allow for another extraction of material. Research is not a race, Doctor. 
You can’t help but smile smugly to yourself, imagining his fury at opening your reply. If he thinks just because you’re young that you’re easily pushed around he is sorely mistaken. Nothing and no one is allowed to jeopardize the most important work you may ever do. 
With that you abandon the desk, it’s dull and mind numbing work, in favor of standing in front of the tank yet again. It was nice, having a portion of it extending into this area as an offshoot of the main tank where all the feeding and the bulk of physical testing was done. He seemed to enjoy it too, which despite yourself you did place some importance on. 
It was important to ensure he was as comfortable as possible. He was still a living being, despite his status as a research subject, and you took no pleasure in the idea of him suffering in any way. It was definitely a slight drawback, you could begrudgingly admit, that you tended to get… overly attached to the species in your care. You’d done the same in both undergrad and postdoc, although it was more important than ever before to keep a tight hold on those tendencies now. 
How would you feel, if you knew that man was so hell bent on slicing you open? 
Probably afraid. 
What are you feeling now?
It would be so much easier if he were capable of speech. The bridges that had to be built between what was known and unknown had to come from the very foundations, things that required occasionally unpleasant experiences in order to build their understanding of him. But if he could just explain some of it, that would be easier. A half formed bridge is faster to finish than one from scratch. 
Uselessly you peered into the clear, clean water. Between swaying stalks of plants there was nothing to see except the seemingly endless expanse of water. Several mind boggling tonnes of it, all kept nicely contained in ten foot thick military grade glass. Bulletproof. Shatter proof. Even if subject zero were to ram it with intent, crack it even, it would still hold. 
You couldn’t help but wonder, as you remained staring through that glass, if he was lonely. Seeing so many strange, upright walkers but being unable to even touch them, even consider the act of doing it. 
As you frown at your own reflection, you feel it again. 
Duel observation.
~
It was bizarre, to him. These two legs, tall men. He knew they existed, they’d always known a different sort of being lived on the land, domineered it and then took to making attempts at dominating the sea as well. It had all become so noisy, so very nearly unbearable thanks to their hulking monstrosities of shining metal and the things they constantly kept dumping into the water.
Every day there were new threats to avoid. Long gone were the days of simply worrying about other predators lurking in the open waters or within the sediment and foliage. 
He hadn’t seen the net, as they called it, until it was too late. Had been too caught in the euphoria of finding such a gigantic school of gorgeous, meaty tuna, that his mind switched off to everything but pure instinct as he’d circled them quickly, calculatedly. His jaw had felt the ache of hunger so viscerally it was like the bones themselves were vibrating with it. 
And then they’d all begun moving. Swept up, trapped in an upward drag that he’d been powerless to fight against while overwhelmed by the wriggling, frantic fish flashing across his vision, no way to know what was forwards or backwards, up or down. 
Then the shock of air. His lungs had seized up painfully with it, the feeling of being constricted by nothing at all yet everything all at once had been horrific, beyond frightening. 
After that it was too messy, too jumbled in his mind. Harsh sounds, their sounds, were prevalent in his memory but just beyond his grasp. Far too loud without the water to act as a buffer between, softening the blows of each reverberation against his eardrums. 
But her sounds were different. Or, it was that she didn’t make many to begin with. The look of them all was mostly similar from behind the thick material they kept him in, in this unknown space. At least they offered readily available food, although not nearly what he was used to hunting for himself and his webbed fingers itched at the thought of clawing through water in pursuit of some darting piece of prey. It would feel so, so good to sink his teeth into flesh, to feel it rip and catch in chunks between his teeth, the iron rich scent of blood swirling around. The roar of adrenaline in his ears. 
It was difficult to keep his focus on much here, save for her. The best parts were when the others disappeared but she would still be in that corner, down the long corridor of water and he would be able to see her, sitting and doing wholly alien things with her hands at something large and flat, but vaguely shiny. Hers didn’t have webbing, none of them did from what he could tell. How did they ever swim competently? 
She was softer than the rest and he enjoyed watching her do her strange tasks, sometimes she would pace around holding a sheet of paper in her hands, chewing on her bottom lip. Her teeth didn’t seem all that sharp, since she never seemed worried about cutting her flesh on them. What did they eat, with useless teeth? 
Just like at the present moment, with her back turned it was easier to look at her fully. Usually he wouldn’t approach openly like this, unsure of the intentions of everyone here, but this space seemed to be reserved for her only which put him at ease. That and none of those harsh spotlights were present, if anything she seemed to prefer it half dark which was fine by him, preferable to that loud bright area behind him back through the water corridor. But she seemed tense, the set of her shoulders curled forward, almost in on herself. Something in front of her was clearly upsetting and in some odd way he felt offense on her behalf. She was kind, gave him extra food before she would disappear through the night, always seemed to be keeping a close watch over him and how the others were with him. 
He may not be able to speak, but he’s pretty sure she was the reason he wasn’t suffering in this place. And that was good enough, at present, to make him feel a sense of kinship with her. Closeness. 
As she carried on with whatever it was that kept her so occupied his mind wandered to what it would feel like to touch her. They seem to enjoy touch, most of them being very casual with the way they interacted. How did she like being touched? Or would she dislike being touched by him outright? Would she find his webbed, clawed fingers disgusting, would she flinch away?
He frowned behind the glass. Hopefully not, but there really was no way to know. They seem intent on keeping a wide distance from him, which wasn’t unwelcome. The only one he was at all curious about was her anyway, not that he would purposely antagonize anyone who ventured inside his new domain, though he certainly wouldn’t circle them like one of the friendly, if a little dumb, nurse sharks do occasionally out in open water. 
He was so caught up in that worry he nearly failed to catch her movement, but his reflexes are faster than hers. Before she could approach the glass fully he’d already retreated a safe distance away. Watching as she stared into the expanse of water, her face unreadable but the set of her eyebrows told him she felt some kind of stress, strain. 
His fingers twitched at his sides, thinking about reaching out to touch her again.
~
You smile to yourself, a soft hidden kind, at the now familiar feeling. It was like there was a strange sense of understanding between you two, although you could just be ascribing things to him he doesn’t possess. Thats always something to keep in mind, as a researcher but more often than not lately you’re coming to resent that line of thought. It was clear subject zero was intelligent. Maybe not to the degree of a human being, but he was close enough evolutionarily speaking, that he was like a cousin in the chain. An offshoot of the formerly solidly established line of human life. Theres no reason, as yet identified, that he wouldn’t be able to communicate if given the chance to learn how. 
You aren’t thinking of him as a subject anymore. That’s dangerous. 
You know it is, know that voice is right. But it doesn’t account for everything. The odd push and pull, hide and seek game you two play here in this office every single evening. Its to the point now that you feel tense, uncomfortable if you don’t sense him behind you, watching you work or pace around nonsensically. You’ve spent over an hour before reading and rereading the same observational notes and data sets because you kept grinning to yourself like a fool feeling those eyes burning holes in your back. 
He’d even made appearances in your dreams a handful of times over the last month, flashes of deep, endless blue that clung to the soft corners of your mind as you went about your morning routines, ruminating over his appearance as steam from your coffee curled around your hands, ghostly fingers clawing at the air. Tension crept up your beck, spreading out over the tops of your shoulders and trapezius muscles prompting you to stretch against the back of your office chair, rolling your joints and hearing their familiar cracking in response to hours of sustained poor posture. Lazily you grasp your phone from the desk, thumbing open the music app and scrolling a bit through your shuffle playlist before settling on something bubbly, but easily tuned into the background. 
You wonder if he enjoys music, what his preferences would be if he could swipe through your library of songs. It makes you smile to yourself thinking about it, maybe that would make for a good test of his thinking abilities, how he responds to different genres, different artists. Standing, you bend slightly to make a quick note on a half discarded sticky tab: musical testing?
And suddenly a somewhat mad thought grips you, what if you tried right now? Whats the worst that could happen, he lurks in the background while you sway around the dim office like a fool? At least the only people who could see would be the guards, not that they’d say anything either beyond thinking to themselves that every researcher here must be insane. That makes your smile grow wider, giggling to yourself a bit as you take slight steps in time with the beat, giving a little spin on your toes to face the take. 
It only somewhat shocks you to find yourself face to face with him, that he hasn’t retreated to the safety of the shadowy corners. His eyes, a remarkably similar color to the water surrounding him, track your movements with abject curiosity as you follow an imaginary path, one foot placed delicately in front of the other to carry your body with the faint sound of the music. All the while his eyes never stray from you, even when he has to move to keep you in his sights, even when you come right up to the glass and offer a little spin in front of him, giggling to yourself a little more freely now. 
And to your amazement, at your laughter, he smiles. He smiles and it makes your chest feel light, like a ten pound weight you hadn’t even been aware of was finally lifted off. Some might find his fanged appearance frightening, to you it was boyishly cute. A toothy little grin, the tips of his elongated enscisors catching against his bottom lip, and his thick, muscular tail began to move. As if, had he possessed legs like yours, they would be moving in tandem with you. 
It felt like a genuine breakthrough, making you hug your arms around yourself as you stopped moving, still laughing and feeling just a tad bit lightheaded. He genuinely smiled at you. 
He was moving with you. 
That was a major breakthrough, even if just a personal one. Increased rapport meant things would be easier going forward, for both of you. 
With a contented sigh you pressed one hand to the smooth, icy surface of the glass, your fingers stretching over the sleek glass and he does something that makes your breath freeze in your lungs. Gingerly, the way people stretch out their hands to scared animals, inch by inch his own rases to be a perfect mirror of your own. One larger, webbed, hand pressed to the glass right behind your own. It felt silly but you were too afraid to even exhale with any effort, for fear even the barest noise would ruin the moment and he would flee right back into the far corners, beyond your reach. 
But he doesn’t, doesn’t stop holding your gaze for a single second and you marvel at the way his blonde hair sways in the water, like the finest strands of silk-
“So, thats why you keep refusing to allow any progress of this “research”?”
You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice from behind you, a signature grating tone you could pick out anywhere. As your head snaps to the side, body following the movement only a second after, you see him standing in the door way with his arms crossed nearly reeking of smugness. 
Fuck. 
~
One week. 
You have one week to figure out what to do. 
After shattering your late night revelation with subject zero, who has been increasingly attached to you ever since, the resident pain in your ass physiologist had made sure to fire off emails riddled with concerns and accusations addressed to the operatives truly in charge of the site. Questions of your ability to continue in any capacity with the project, the nature of your relationship to the subject, insinuating you had some kind of perverse intention, even going so far as to insult your credibility. Not only cc-ing yourself but “mistakenly” sending those emails to every person working on site.
It had effectively turned you into a pariah with regards to your peers. Whispers of conversation that would be cut off as soon as you set foot into a room. Strange looks from your coworkers, ranging from disgust to perverse curiosity. It felt like you were continuously on fire, every minute of every day. There would be a meeting in one weeks time, and until then you were relegated to nothing but the paperwork in your office, per the tense instructions given to you.
But your panic had less to do with your professional reputation, surprisingly, and more to do with feeling very nearly physically sick when you recalled how fixated he was with the idea of getting to cut into subject zero. If you were removed completely from this project there would be no one else to act as a roadblock, to keep that from happening. 
Your eyes slide over to the observation tank, noting the worried way he’s been watching you for hours now. You wished you could haul him out of there, explain what was happening, the risk of what could happen to him. Maybe he would have some idea of how you both could get out of this. But was there any way out? Or is the only option allowing yourself to become a laughingstock, a professional embarrassment and to allow subject zero to languish in whatever horror would surely be inflicted on him? 
You can’t say if desperation is the only thing motivating you, but your mind becomes mostly blank as you leave the office. Its early enough, after you’d been practically climbing up the walls all night, so maybe the choice was fueled by sleep deprivation. Whatever the case may be, you find yourself moving as if through a dream: down the cavernous corridors, turning and twisting to follow the slate grey concrete all the way to the impossibly large main observation chamber. 
With a swipe of your ID card, forcefully and defiantly, the locks give a little beep before disengaging. Mechanically you make your way to where the suits are stored. Specially designed, one of a kind. Made of an interwoven, enmeshed material not unlike chainmail to prevent sharp teeth from being able to puncture both cloth and flesh, and featuring only the best in terms of diving design. The manufacturer had created them after winning a defense contract from the governenment and you wonder if they ever would have guessed someone would be stripping and tugging the suit on in order to come face to face with something most people would assume only existed in a fairytale. 
But here you are: yanking and adjusting the suit before prepping the oxygen tank, also designed to be compact but sacrificing the amount of time one could spend fully submerged at any depth. Either way it would work for this application, although no one had been given clearance to dive yet. 
You knew doing this would come back to bite you far worse than just those vendetta fueled emails. Diving without any clearance, using untested equipment. It was beyond insane. But the circumstances felt insane enough on their own to justify it. Subject zero was overwhelmingly likely to be just as intelligent as you were, and just as likely to feel physical and mental distress in similar ways. Trying to communicate was step one and what better way than face to face. Then you could form step two: proving beyond a reasonable doubt that he was intelligent and thus, could be advocated for medically even if he couldn’t advocate for himself. 
That was the only way to halt the now speeding train of decisions being made on his behalf and without his input. If he could even write out the most barebones statement, even that would work to prove they needed consent to continue with any of this. Tomorrow you could wake up in a whole new world, one where there is technically a second legal classification of human being, one with a tail and gills. The though made you smile despite the tense circumstances. 
What you were doing was a halfcocked, absolutely batshit attempt at a hail mary but it was worth a shot. Your reputation was already in tatters on site, how much worse could it be? If you fail in this all that happens is you’re dismissed and removed from the site, doomed to be a whispered footnote for future researchers. Did you ever hear about the lady that went crazy with one of the subjects? A cautionary tale about getting too attached to your work. 
But fuck that. If you’re not at least a little attached to your work then do you even really care at all about any of it? You would argue that the resident physiologist holds no love for the work, only a love for the idea of something else experiencing pain.
With a deep breath you sit carefully on the steel ledge that runs the length of the tanks open ceiling. Easy, you just flip backwards and hit the water, reorient yourself and try not to get eaten by one potentially pissed off subject. Yeah, a real piece of cake. With that you decide theres no more time to waste, it’s probably already flagged in the system that you accessed the main deck, they’ll be here any minute. 
Good, that means they can all see I’m not insane or inappropriate. He can comprehend things just like we can, the music wasn’t a fluke. 
In the span of a second your worldview dips, swirls, and the splash of water hits your ears at the exact same moment the shock of cold does. The water is kept at approximately the same temperature as the water he was captured in, frigid Atlantic delights. As bubbles envelop you, you manage to get yourself turned right side up, carefully circling your arms to tred water and remain mostly stationary. This would be the key moment, you have to exercise extreme caution. 
You’re another predator that has invaded the territory of a fellow predator. In the natural world, it’s a killable offense. But you keep your eyes open, sweeping the dimly lit, wide expanse of saltwater around you. No sign of him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t here, watching you, gauging the situation. As you continue to keep your breathing even, your movements slow enough but steady enough to keep your body afloat, you catch sight of something in your peripheral. That intimately familiar midnight blue tail. He was moving behind you now, one webbed, clawed hand slicing through the water like knives as the rest of him came into your view. That sandy, dishwater blonde hair floating in fine tendrils around his face, framing piercing blue eyes that took you in critically, curiously. 
You allow him to keep circling you, doing your best to calm your nervous system that felt on high alert, panic just on the cusp of overriding your sensibilities. Allowing that would spell disaster, you would certanly be killed if you started thrashing or spinning wildly, it would scare him, you could both be injured in any kind of violent altercation. They would kill him if he killed you. 
But your worries abate as he slows to a stop in front of you, and despite your eyes staying locked together you’re conscious of the audience you have on the other side of the glass. The feeling of being watched by many people is something quite unique, it’s also unnerving. You wish you could apologize to him, you hadn’t realized before how uncomfortable literally living beneath a microscope was. 
You raise your arm, hand extended, in a painfully slow movement that makes the muscles in your forearm ache. His attention goes to the appendage now how hanging between you two, eyeing it with equal parts suspicion and what seems to be excitement. The physical equivalent of a high pitched alarm happens in your body as he moves closer to you, the air suddenly locked in your lungs as you wait. This was another critical moment. Would he grasp your hand? Rip it off? It was entirely unknown, beyond dangerous. 
But none of those things happen. The painting, god touching adam, comes to mind as he raises a clawed index finger delicately up to yours. They don’t touch but rather hover in proximity to one another before a grin works its way across his face, those sharp incisors catching against his bottom lip as his eyes flick back to your goggled face. 
You hope he can see that you’re smiling too, but you hope its not like it is with monkeys where grins are signs of aggression. But it seems that fear is unwarranted as his tail twitches erratically, the wispy bits of filigree flesh on the split end swirling through the water in a gorgeous display of deep blue and white. Like sheer fabric winding through the air. 
The ecstasy that floods your brain is a feeling like no other, a full body sensation that spreads from the tips of your fingers to your fabric covered toes. His tail moves to brush against your kicking legs, the heft of it is shocking. You can immediately imagine the sheer power of it kocking into you, it would feel like being hit by a freight train no doubt. For something that looked so elegant and otherworldly, it was still a threat. 
But you couldn’t get distracted you needed some display of his intelligence, and you needed it now. 
So you shake off the awe, do your best to refocus on his face. Carefully you draw back your hand, pointing to yourself and then at him. You repeat the gesture several times, hoping to receive a reaction that displays understanding. 
And he doesn’t keep you waiting long. 
In a flash one clawed, webbed hand encircles your wrist and halts your movement. 
It’s like time suspends, a complete and total pause as you feel a different kind of chill within the suit. It’s like you’re watching in third person, your throat seizing as your fingers intertwine hesitantly. It’s an oddly tender gesture, and then your body is tugged through the weight of the water, pushed against the solidness of his chest. Your arms came gingerly around him, and his enveloped you in turn. He was all firmness, so solidly built it shocked you. You hadn’t properly appreciated the sheer mass of him, the way his body had been crafted for underwater pursuit, hunting. But also to accommodate displays of affection, just like your own. 
And as you two embrace you can’t help but smile again. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to form one hell of an argument on his behalf and you would shout until your face was blue that going forward, communication would take priority. Worrying about the innerworkings of his physiology could wait until later.
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spiderlily-w1tch-blog · 3 months
Text
𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚒||𝙴𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛 - 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑
𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊
— — —
Ft Todoroki Natsuo, Dabi, & (cheater!)Todoroki Shouto; Ft Stolen|Payback, size kink, daddy kink, creampie(wow, i’m realising that that’s a very common theme here)
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own BNHA or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors
WC: 5,164(a longer one :D)
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes references to cheating(by Shouto), daddy kink, age gap, light breeding kink(one line), references to arson and violence, few uses of “Y/n”, 1st Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)
𝔐𝔦𝔫𝔦 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: This is Quirkless!AU, so Dabi’s ‘scars’ are just cool tattoos, maybe a bit of burn scars bc he’s still a pyromaniac lol
【Masterlist】
— — —
‘I hate him! I hate him!! I hate him!!!’ I screamed in my mind as I wiped my tears again, getting out of my car. ‘That fucking bastard!’ I wanted nothing more than to actually scream out what I was feeling but I just wanted to get in, grab my shit, and go. I used the spare key I almost wanted to shove down his throat, to get into his family home. I haphazardly tossed my shoes off and barely slid on the house slippers before I started on my way into the home.
With my tears blurring my vision to next to nothing, my thoughts were going a million miles a minute with the constantly recurring thought of how heavy my finger feels without the ring that bastard had the audacity to promise himself to me with. I didn’t see the hulking figure in front of me, having heard the harsh shutting of the door. I crashed into a solid chest and almost fell had it not been for the Firefighter’s fast reflexes.(Am I funny now??)
“I-I’m so sorry, sir. I-,” I tried and failed to suppress a sob that interrupted my sentence, “I di-didn’t se-ee you..” My body shook with my repressed sobs, though I couldn’t bring myself to care. In my state, I also hadn’t realized that Shouto’s father hadn’t let me go yet, nor had I realized he was shirtless.
“Y/n? What happened?” Enji asked, a hand coming up to cup my face and brush away the tears. I hadn’t even had a moment’s thought of how intimate the action was. I was simply comforted by the, vaguely surprisingly gentle hold.
“I-I don’t.. I don’t wan-want to c-cause anything..” I said through the tears still running down my face. The upside to the tears running meant that they weren’t all in my eyes, so I could actually see to an extent.
“Don’t worry about that, Little Flame, what’s happened?”
“Sh-Shouto…” Even saying his name wrought a strike of pain to my heart. Apparently, I physically cringed at it, making Enji pull me into a warm embrace. Burying my face in his bare chest, I felt content enough to continue, “He-He cheated on me…” I mumbled, just loud enough that he could hear. Suddenly, the hold around me tightened, not in a painful way, no, in a protective way that made me feel safe for reasons I didn’t understand in my emotional state. It almost took my thoughts away from the imaginary weight on my hand even with the lack thereof.
“He what?” Enji all but growled, I could somehow tell, though, that he wasn’t angry with me. I nodded into his form and curled in on myself a bit more.
“W-with Yaomomo..” I shuttered out, seemingly a substitute for the sobs that wracked my body just minutes ago. It seems I was out of tears. I could feel his fists clench before he pulled back, holding me by my shoulders.
“That is unacceptable, Little Flame. I promise he will be dealt with accordingly. In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you?” The large man asked, the look in his eyes seeming like he already had something in mind. The feeling of safety and security he gave me, as well as the powerful look in his eye, I decided in under 5 seconds.
“C-can you hold me..?” I asked weakly, wanting to feel his strong arms around me again.
“Of course, Little Flame, anything for you,” He gave me a smile that sent a shiver down my spine for all the wrong reasons since he’s my, now Ex(whether he knew it or not), fiancé’s father. That thought didn’t stay long as all I wanted to focus on was the comfort he could give me.
He effortlessly lifted me into his arms and moved to the family room and sat down in the large armchair with me now in his lap. He led me to lean into his chest as he caressed my back with both hands. With his entire body naturally dwarfing me, his hands encompassed most of the space, his left hand gently stroking over my lower back while his right stayed between my shoulder blades.
My breathing returned to normal while I inhaled his smoky scent and let myself feel his body against mine, lightly blushing when I finally processed that he had nothing on his very built torso. I moved my head closer to his neck from where it lay on his shoulder, my hands beginning to slide up and down his hard chest slightly, feeling the sparse, coarse chest hair. Slowly, his left hand moved lower and dipped under my sweater top and stroked his fingers lightly on the skin just above my where my leggings ended.
His right hand smoothed down my spine before he planted it heavily on my thigh. He stroked his thumb over the area, so close to my mound, and it made me clench around nothing. He’s my cheating ex’s father, I knew I wasn’t supposed to be doing this, any of this, with him, but he’s just so big and warm and comforting and I’d be a boldfaced liar if I said I’d never thought about it. I’d also be a liar if I said part of me didn’t want to get revenge on Shouto, and you know what they say, ‘If he cheats, fuck his dad,’ no matter if it makes me feel the tiniest bit guilty.
Lifting my head up to look at him I inadvertently arched my back to look into his eyes. My gaze flickered to his lips and I noticed that his did the same to mine. Before I could even think of any reason not to, I leaned forward and captured his lips. He immediately returned the kiss and slid his left hand up my back, under my sweater top, to pull me closer.
“Yo! I’m home!” The front door opened and closed as Natsuo announced his presence. I startled and started to pull back but Enji stopped me.
“Don’t worry, Little Flame. Natsuo! Do you know if Shouto will be home soon?” Enji called down the hall to Genkan.
“Uh, I think so, why?” His voice got closer to the family room and my panic started to steadily grow with each step at the prospect of being found like this. The misunderstanding could be the end of me. As far as I knew only Enji and I knew about the affair, or at least that I knew as Shouto had no idea I had found out. So if my supposed fiancé’s brother found me in their father’s lap, I could only imagine the media storm I would fall prey to.
“Good. So he can see what he lost.” The smirk was evident in his voice and I was ready for the shouts and accusations as Natsu turned the corner.
“Oh, shit. You girls really mean it when you say that if a guy cheats on you, sleep with their dad, huh? Respect. Definitely gonna make sure not to piss off my girlfriend…” The lack of extreme reaction shocked me and I could only gawk at Natsu as he moved to sit down on the couch furthest from us.
“I- w-wait… What..? You know?” I stutter out, still gawking.
“I found out last night. I don’t have your number so I couldn’t tell you so I tried to find you but I had no clue where you were, sorry.” He bowed his head in genuine apology and I felt slightly better knowing that Natsu, even being Shouto’s brother, wanted to tell me of his betrayal.
“Now, Little Flame. Let me make you feel good, and even better when you can show him that you know he fucked up.” Enji’s voice brought me back and, with a newfound enthusiasm, I dove back in and crashed my lips to his, heat blooming in my core at the sound of his deep baritone voice cussing, for me no less. His left hand then moved down to my other thigh where he squeezed the flesh and angled them so his thumbs would both be rubbing at the edges of my cunt. I moaned wantonly into his mouth and rolled my hips to both grind on his bulge and try to get his hands further on my clothed pussy.
“Hey, Natsuo! I’m here! What did you want to talk to me about?” Shouto’s oldest brother, Touya— though he said to call him Dabi— called into the house with the sound of the front door opening and closing again.
“In the living room! I guess it’s more show and tell now, though.”
“Show and tell? What are you, fi- Holy fuck…” Dabi stopped mid-step as he turned the corner and then started to laugh in amazement, “Damn, what the hell did Shouto do?! If you’re fuckin’ the Old Man he must have really fucked up.” He spoke through his laughing fit before he wiped an imaginary tear and smirked in our direction. “But, uh, hey, if you’re lookin’ for revenge on the brat, I’m always free, too, babe.” I rested my head on Enji’s chest sideways to look at the tattooed man and giggled as I never stopped the motion of my hips.
“I’ll keep that in mind next time he cheats.” I said bitterly and got a sick sense of satisfaction when I saw the way Dabi’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
“Holy shit, forget revenge fucking his dad, I’m gonna help you set the bastard on fire.” I had heard stories of his pyromaniac tendencies but I didn’t think they were real, or at least I thought they were massively exaggerated.
“How about the three of us go afterwards, Touya.” Natsuo’s voice called from the couch and I returned my full attention to Enji when he kissed and nipped at my neck with a possessive growl in my ear.
“Sounds good, Natsu. Now scoot over, ain’t no way I’m missing this shit.” The pleased man trotted over to his brother and sat, watching in both lewd interest and smug satisfaction. Getting impatient, I whined and ground my hips harder against the behemoth of a man.
“Please..” My voice came out high-pitched and needy, “Please, Daddy…” Enji’s breath hitched at the name and I panicked for only a second before another, more possessive growl sounded against my throat, and his hands wrapped tightly around my hips and moved my hips to roughly press into his as he leaned back enough to capture my lips.
“Damn, how am I both not surprised at all and yet entirely unprepared for that?” Dabi muttered to Natsuo who only offered a breathless chuckle in return.
Finally getting impatient, Enji slid his hands up from my waist and took my sweater top with the lift. I sat up to help him shuck it off and teasingly tossed it at Dabi. He whooped and jokingly told Natsuo to hand over his wallet. I rolled my eyes with a smile before my spine stiffened with a shocked gasp and moan when Enji’s thumbs dug into the seam of my leggings, with the rest of his big hands pulling the fabric taut, and tearing into them to expose my soaked panties.
“Holy shit… I mean, I figured it’s been a while since he got laid but, fuck, that was…” Natsuo spoke, both bewildered and kind of amazed at the actions of his father and the strength he exhibited in the moment.
“Desperate? Savage? Insane only the most pent-up kind of horny can make you? Yea.” Dabi cheekily replied, still not taking his eyes off the scene as he leaned toward his brother to mutter his response. Enji kept a hand at the apex of my thighs surrounded by the remains of my pants and used the other to pull me back down for a sweet kiss to my lips, to my cheek, and my jaw.
“I’ll buy you a new pair, Little Flame, I’m sorry,” he apologized, though it only sounded about half genuine in the moment, as he nipped at my lobe. His lips attached to my neck as his hand returned to the shreds of fabric and he maneuvered it enough that he could pull it easily enough down my thighs without disturbing our connection.
“Fuck… Enji, please..” I whined, the throbbing in my core becoming too much. He growled lowly at my voice and nipped at the skin just below my ear and moved his hand back to my soaked-through panties.
“Needy, Little Flame, huh?” He asked teasingly as he slid his thumb over my cunt through my underwear. My grip on his broad shoulders tightened and I let a chalky breath out at the pleasure just a layer closer to my heat. As if he could sense my thoughts, Enji moved his thumb to sneak under the hem of my panties to stroke my pussy directly. The sudden stimulation had me crying out and arching my back, pushing my chest against his.
Enji used his free hand to pop open the clasp on my bra and help me pull it off, leaving my breasts exposed. Dabi whistled and I didn’t have a chance to give a witty response when the hulking man beneath me took one of my nipples between his lips and sucked. I gasped and clenched around nothing which he must have felt. His fingers moved and he pulled the fabric to the side of my pussy and stroked through the labia with his fore and middle fingers before he eased them into my hole. While he sucked on my tit and lightly nipped at the bud, he slowly moved his fingers in and out, in and out, in and out of me. He turned his wrist over to have his closed palm facing upwards and sped up his ministrations.
“So tight, he hasn’t been taking care of you, has he?” Enji popped off of my nipple and spoke.
“T-Too.. busy fucking my best-best friend, I guess…” I breathed and looked down at his face which held a lust-clouded anger, a fire in his eyes as he gazed up at me. My gaze flickered down to where he was finger fucking my cunt and I saw the dark patch on the front of his sweatpants from my dripping arousal.
“Which one is her best friend again?” Dabi murmured to Natsuo, clicking a lighter repeatedly, likely a fidget the Pyromaniac had developed.
“Uh, the one with the giant ponytail and her tits always out.” Natsuo summed her up, making me giggle breathlessly while their father fingered me.
“Oh, yea, that one. Wait- Yaoyorozu? The brat of that one ridiculously rich and snobby family we do business with?”
“That’s the one. Yea, I never liked her, she was somehow a little brat and a stick in the mud at the same time.” My instinctive response was to defend her, say she was different if she was comfortable around you, but I stopped myself, quickly remembering just what kind of person she really is if she would betray me like this, to fuck my fiancé behind my back and have the audacity to lie to my face and still smile at me as if she wasn’t a homewrecking whore.
“Oh, fuck. Y’know I always did was want to watch them crash and burn.” I smiled and shivered at Dabi’s sentiment and moaned loudly when Enji’s thick fingers brushed against the spongy spot inside me. He smirked and brought his hand back up to hold the back of my neck to pull me into another kiss.
Even with his fingers plunging into my heat again and again, I felt far too empty so I lightly scraped my nails down his chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. He groaned into my mouth and his grip tightened on my nape and his fingers in my pussy plunged faster and harder. I moaned— a whiny, high-pitched noise— against his lips and rushed to yank his pants down below his solid cock.
Finally getting it free, I wrapped my hand around his dick and began to stroke. I gathered my own arousal on my fingers and smeared it over his tip to mix it with his pre-cum and used the mixture to lube my strokes. With each stroke, his kiss became more hungry and he moved his fingers faster and more deliberately, until finally, he decided enough was enough and pulled away from my lips.
“Oh my God, is it finally happening?” Dabi asked no one, a teasing lilt to his voice, though it had an underlying excitement.
“I think so, dude.” Natsuo responded, sounding almost exasperated but had poorly concealed excitement lacing his words. Enji pulled my hand away from his length and moved to try and position my heat over him to sink me down. Try being the operative word. We had managed to position me to hover over his cock but in the position we were in, I couldn’t properly sink down or even get him to enter me. I whined in frustration and looked at him desperate and needy to be filled.
“Don’t worry, Little Flame, I’ll take care of you.” The behemoth of a man promised me and sealed it with a kiss before he grabbed my hips firmly and lifted me up as he stood. I squealed in surprise and gripped his shoulders for balance before he set me down.
“Enji..?” I asked, wondering what he wanted me to do next. He smirked at how I looked to him for instruction, likely the action had pleased his dominance.
“Good girl, looking to Daddy for instruction. Bend over, against the chair.” He said, the smirk still present on his red and swollen lips. Dabi and Natsuo both snickered at their father but I hardly paid mind to it in my desperation to be filled by Enji’s fat cock. I quickly complied and bend myself over the arm of the chair, facing the brothers who had their gaze locked on the scene before them. Quickly after I got into the proper position, Enji got behind me and grabbed my hip with one hand and used the other to press his tip to my sopping hole.
He grabbed my other hip and pushed in and bottomed out with one hard thrust, pulling back on my hips to bring my hips flush with his. I moaned loudly when his cock buried so deep inside me and filled me better and more than Shouto ever had. His lean muscle had nothing on his father’s hulking form that encompassed me so wholly.
“F-fuck-! So.. So fucking big…” I whimpered out, the burn of the stretch was just this side of painful. I felt more than heard Enji’s low chuckle vibrating through my body, starting from my cunt, where we were connected.
“I’ll bet he never filled you up like this, huh? Certainly not recently. He truly is incompetent for throwing away such a perfect good girl.” He growled out, grinding his hips against mine to accentuate his point.
“No-! Kami no, he could never fill me up like this!” I cried out when he pulled back only a bit to roughly rut his hips against my ass, his balls slapping against my clit. I moaned loudly when he started moving, pulling back and thrusting back in. His cock dragged along my twitching walls and it felt like heaven. He sped up his thrusts and began pounding into me, jolting me forward and making my ass ripple against his forceful hips and my tits jiggle.
“Fuck-! Daddy! Feels- Feels so good~!” I moaned lewdly and felt his rhythm falter when the sound of the door cut through the living room and I stiffened up at the knowledge that my cheating Ex-Fiancé was here. In the house that his father was currently fucking me in.
“I’m home!” Shouto announced his arrival and I could hear the shuffling of him taking his shoes off and transferring to house slippers before he would start heading down the entry hall. Enji manhandled me easily to lift me to my knees on the armchair for just a moment before gripping the backs of my thighs to pick me up. My back was pressed to his chest and he continued his thrusts with a new vigor.
“You ready to show him what he’s missing, Little Flame? How much he fucked up?” The man at my back growled into my ear, kissing just below my lobe and biting the juncture of my neck and shoulder. He never stopped his thrusts, fucking up into me. I nodded hurriedly, suppressing a whine as I clenched around him and shot my grip to his forearms and dug my nails in.
“Yo, Shouto! We’re in the living room!” Dabi called smugly to his youngest brother, shooting me a smirk and a wink. ‘You can do this, princess.’ He mouthed to me with a nod. Even with Enji giving me mind-numbing pleasure, I managed to nod back.
I heard the shuffle of Shouto coming down the hallway and tried to prepare myself. I let myself focus on the drag of Enji’s cock on my walls to relax my stiff body before I let myself moan out just as Shouto was turning the corner. At the noise, his eyes widened and shot to me. To me in his father’s grasp, his cock pumping in and out of me.
“What the fuck..?!” He gasped. At first, I had been anxious, a twisting in my gut at the situation, at what would happen, but that melted away when anger replaced it. Burning rage twisted in my chest when I saw that he had the gall to look upset, to look hurt.
“Sh- aah- Shouto.. Hey.” I greeted as casually as I could with a cock slamming into me, reaching my cervix and even feeling like it would almost bust through it.
“What… What the hell are you doing?!” Shouto asked, looking bewildered.
“Haahh..! Welcome home~!” I called out in a whiny voice, preparing myself to reveal that I know he’s a lying, cheating bastard, “How’s Momo?” I asked cheekily.
“Wha.. Momo..?” The bastard tried to mask panic for confusion which only fueled the fire of my anger.
“Yea, did she- Oh fuck!- Did she feel good? Does she feel better than me? I guess she does if- if you’ve been fucking her rather than your own fiancé.” I stated through moans and my voice shaking from Enji bouncing me eagerly on his dick.
“Wh-what..? I- Fuck. Y/n I can explain. Please just- I’m sorry! It wasn’t supposed to-” He began to plead, a desperate look on his face that both made me even more pissed yet also like I wanted to hear him out, like maybe that meant he didn’t mean it and that he would come back. Enji must have seen, or sensed, or something, that I was feeling so as he nipped at the shell of my ear.
“Don’t do that, Little Flame. Don’t let yourself fall. Remember what he did, why you’re here,” he muttered into my ear and kissed my jaw softly as he slowed his thrusts to deliberately drag his cock against my sweet spot. Quickly, I remembered exactly that and steeled myself once more.
“Explain what? That you were fucking my best friend? That you fucking cheated on me? Were you fucking her the whole time? Before you fucking proposed to me? Before you promised yourself to me? Promised to love me for the rest of our lives?” I asked angrily, my fingernails digging into his father’s arms harder.
“I- Baby, please. Just come here and talk to me. Please just- just stop.” He begged, pointedly not answering, giving me my answer.
“Fuck. You.” I panted, feeling my climax building with each time Enji rammed into my g-spot. “You don’t get to act all hurt. You broke my fucking heart, you bastard. You fucking cheated on me and then had the fucking audacity to propose to me and act like you loved me. Did you ever fucking love me? Or were you using me?” I demanded, tears pricking my eyes. I chose to believe that they were from Enji fucking me so fucking good rather than letting myself know that they were from the pain I was experiencing all over again from the man in front of me.
“Of course I did! Please, Y/n, baby, I do love you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry…” The bi-coloured man continued to beg with me.
“I don’t- oh Kami- I don’t fucking believe you. You piece of- Oh fuck!- You piece of shit!” I yelled at him.
“That’s right, Little Flame. I’ve got you. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Daddy’s got you,” Enji purred, purposely loud enough for Shouto to hear. Shouto tried to glare at his father but it was more defeated than truly pissed and spiteful.
“Ah-! Yes-! Yes, Daddy! I know.. I know you’ve got me… Oh Kami you feel so fucking good… So full. So fucking big…” I rambled on, shifting from taunting Shouto to losing myself to the pleasure of Enji pounding into me.
Shouto stood at the mouth of the hallway and looked torn between staying and watching, maybe even continuing to plead his case, and leaving. The turmoil filled me with a sense of satisfaction. He was fighting a war in his head and it pleased me to no end. Now he knew even a sliver of what I felt when I found out he’d been fucking my best friend— Ex best friend. I would have made more taunting remarks at him had I not been nearly overwhelmed by my approaching orgasm and Enji fucking me dumb.
“Fuck! Enji- Daddy! I’m close... I’m so.. so fucking close-!” I cried out, my hips bucking against him. He released a pleased growl next to my ear and bit and sucked on my neck possessively.
“Go ahead, Little Flame, cum on my cock. Cum on my cock and I’ll fill you up. I’ll breed you so full, fuller than you’ve ever been.” He hummed to me and taunted Shouto further.
I let myself forget about the fucker in front of me and only focus on the pleasure coursing through me and the tightening knot in my belly. The knot pulled tighter and tighter and tighter until it finally snapped and I came— hard. Harder than I have in years. Harder than I have since before I started dating Shouto.
My orgasm gushed around him and he roared a moan at the tightness of my cunt constricting so hard around him. Around his fat cock. As his hips came up to slam hard into me, he used gravity and his grip on my thighs to bring me down even harder as he came. His tip slammed so hard into my cervix I was certain he truly had busted through. Ropes and ropes of white hot cum gushed into me, almost like lava in my lower belly with how hot his cum was. I cried out in a whorish moan at the feeling of him pumping me so full of his cum. His cum filled my walls and my womb yet it was still too much. His jizz proceeded to leak out of me, squeezing between the taut stretch of my pussy and his thick cock to drip down his balls.
“Fuck… That was hot and rewarding.” Dabi smirked, fisting his spent dick. I didn’t know when he had pulled it out or even when he started jacking off but the sight was fucking hot. His chest heaving and cum splattered over his fist and his toned belly. When he had taken off his shirt I wasn’t sure but I was silently appreciative. His intricate tattoos spread down further than his shirt had allowed me to see and they were even in other places, including leading below the waistband of his pants. His bare chest exposed his nipple piercings I had heard about and it filled me with an exhausted excitement.
“Very.” I breathed, smirking at him as I laid limply against Enji’s chest, “Though I might take you up on your offer later, too.” I teased, though it held actual consideration.
“Oh, believe me, princess, if you do, you will not regret it.” He smirked wolfishly back at me with a wink that would have made heat bloom in my cheeks had they not already been flushed from the situation and Enji’s rough fucking. Shouto stood for another moment, looking defeated and hurt before he turned and marched down the hall back to the Genkan.
“Wait-!” Natsuo started but was cut off by Dabi putting a hand up, “What..?”
“Let him go running back to his whore. That way, Y/n will have time to recover before we go.” Dabi explained, glaring at the spot his brother had been.
“Go..? Go where?” Natsuo asked, lost.
“Go after him, duh. Don’t you remember the plan? We’re gonna set him and his slut on fire.” The raven-haired man smirked evilly. It made me happy that he was so serious about that but it also filled me with concern that he was so serious about it.
“Okay, no. We are not setting anyone on fire. You can get revenge some other way, just without the pyromania.” Enji instructed as he sat back down in the armchair and let my legs rest more comfortably. He wrapped his arms around me loosely and pressed soft kisses to my shoulder and neck, leading up to my jaw before lifting a hand to turn my head for a sweet kiss to my lips. I giggled against his lips and happily relaxed into him as I indulged in the kiss.
“Ugh, fine, Old Man… Killjoy,” Dabi said, practically pouting. “We’ll just have to ruin him or something. Get the evidence out and let him be his own downfall.” He shrugged halfheartedly, clearly not pleased by the relatively docile plan.
“Maybe we can fuck up his car, too. Go full Carrie Underwood on him.” I suggested and that got his attention, his expression lighting up, making me laugh.
“Perfect. First, though, we gotta get you off the Old Man’s dick and cleaned up.” He smirked and raised a brow at my blushing face. Wordlessly, Natsuo handed his brother a box of tissues as he pulled out his phone to pull up the evidence he had found that he had wanted to tell me about the night before.
“I got enough here to send to the media, but if you really want to make it stick for a while, you might want to get some more.” He stated casually, happy to help me get revenge on his younger brother. I smiled at the family all helping me and already started planning ways to thank them.
Home-cooked meals seemed like a good start.
— — —
𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:
Crossed out if I can’t tag you for some reason!
@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18
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dilucs-princess · 4 months
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What they like to be called and call you during sex
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Pairing: Geto, Gojo, Toji, Choso and Nanami x fem!reader (all seperate)
Warning: dom and sub JJK men, titles (so many and stated at the beginning of each HC), teacher/student roleplay in Gojo's dom part
reblogs > likes
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Suguru Geto (dom)
He loves to be called master. Loves how desperately you squirm and cry as he pounds into you, holding your arms above your head as he looks down at you with a smirk. But the icing on the cake is where you are just able to get out a weak "ma-master please, slow down!" He just laughs, cupping your cheek gently "Oh, my love... Mmm, but you feel so heavenly! How could I slow down? Well, maybe if you beg master, I might think about it, or I might even let you cum.."
Suguru Geto (sub)
On the very rare cases he lets you take control, he'll whisper a soft "m-ma'am..." Every time you drop yourself down on him. His back arches so beautifully and he cries out so prettily as you ride him. You can only smile down at him, squeezing his cheeks together. "Oh, don't tell me you've had enough, Sugu~". He knew this was payback but oh god, you really would ruin him.
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Satoru Gojo (Dom)
He can't deny that he loves it when you call him sensei/teacher. It fuels something in him when you act like a stupid and naive school girl when he knows you're far from it. Pouting as you look at your newest test scores, bending over Gojo's desk, a soft "Sensei.. I answered everything correctly! Why is it so low?" He couldn't help but groan at the sight of you, tapping his knee. "C'mere, babygirl. Maybe you can get extra credit, hm?"
Satoru Gojo (sub)
He is completely head over heels for you, so it's no surprise he loves to call you goddess. Desperately kissing across your skin and grabbing anywhere he could, a whimper when you kick him away as if he were a dog. A small beg of "My goddess, please, I've been such a good boy, haven't I?" So desperate to touch you again, but he waits for permission <3
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Toji Zen'in (Dom)
I don't think anyone is shocked, but he loves it when you call him daddy. He gets so possessive and forces your legs to your shoulders, fucking into you so fast. It's messy, it's about claiming you more than anything else. "Fuck, c'mon baby, say it again, say it again for me, yeah?" You choked back a moan, eyes rolling back as you felt your nth orgasm wash over you, a desperate plea of "daddy!" as you cum, his laugh sounding so distant.
Toji Zen'in (sub)
I think Toji would sub a lot more than others would think. Clinging onto you, whimpering a quiet "my lady.." You just smiled gently as you pushed into him, revelling in his moans and gasps. "Sh... sh, there's a good boy." You smiled lightly as another gasp left him, a desperate "My lady, please, faster, need you so bad.." You smiled, and who were you to deny him?
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Choso Kamo (dom)
He adores it when you call him "my prince." He's not the best at being a dom, but call him that and it gets him going. Forcing you to your knees as he looks down at you, a small whine when you say, "My prince, please, I always follow your orders, please let me have this reward!" You pleaded before he grabs your hair, immediately shoving his dick down your throat.
Choso Kamo (sub)
He adores calling you mommy. It's the security it brings too, loves to sit on your lap as you gently stroke his cock, whimpering so desperately as he mumbles quiet pleas of "Mommy, please, I'm so, so close! Mommy, can I cum? Pretty please?" He whined, staring up at you, so desperate. You chuckled lightly and nodded, loving his gentle moans that left his lips.
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Nanami Kento (dom)
He adores hearing you call him sir. He loves fingering you as you squirm on his lap, doing work so casually. Loves hearing you whimper or whine, begs of "sir!" As his skilled fingers work you open in preparation for his cock, fingers hitting that perfect spot in you, fluids leaking out of you continuously. "Sir, I need you to fuck me, please..." He just smiled, ignoring your whines and begs.
Nanami Kento (sub)
Similarly, he likes to call you mistress when you're in control. It makes him feel like he is completely at your mercy (he is). Staring up at you desperately as his body shakes from the continuous teases to his cock. "Mistress, c'mon. I need you," he murmured sweetly as you finished tying his wrists to the headboard. You hummed as you sat on the bed, a soft "no." Relishing in his defeated cries.
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revehae · 8 months
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monster
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pairing ↠ johnny x you (ft. yuta)
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, choking, use of a gun
summary ↠ with news of a series of local deadly burglaries going around, you’re terrified of being the latest victim, but it’s the fault of your own disobedient nature that subjects you to a more potent kind of danger.
wc ↠ 3.0k
a/n ↠ this is a repost!
don’t like it, don’t read.
breaking: following a series of home invasions in the area, police recommend locals lock their doors.
for the past couple of weeks, the local news channel had mimicked a similar kind of warning. during the span of those weeks, nine burglaries had occurred; two involving death.
you were hoping you wouldn’t be the third. 
authorities reported that the culprit only entered homes with the intention of theft, and only when the occupants became an obstacle were they murdered. as if that was supposed to be relieving. you were no more in favor of being robbed than you were being killed, but you knew which one would be worse.
to make matters worse, that criminal was a damn good one. nine successful home invasions - some even in the same neighborhood - and all the police had on him was a poor quality CCTV footage image of the man in a mask. either he was an excellent thief, or the police were terrible.
lock your doors, they said. as if those innocent people hadn’t kept their doors locked. what use was it when the burglar knew how to pick locks and avoid homes with security? you might as well have left your doors and windows wide open, offered to him your belongings - and your lives - on a silver platter. 
“don’t be silly, babe,” said your friend yuta over the phone. he was assuring you that nothing would happen to you, or at least trying to. “everything’s gonna be fine. you should stay at taeyong’s tonight though just to be safe - you know he’s got good security.”
you bit your lip. it was a great idea. you had to give credit where credit was due; the thief, whoever he was, was meticulous, steering clear of houses where security was present. with multiple of the invasions taking place in the same neighborhoods it was almost like a taunt to the police. “i’ll talk to him,” you said. and much like some of your other neighbors, you made a note to yourself to invest in a home security system.
“don’t be a disobedient soul,” he drawled teasingly. given your tendency to rebel, the nickname was bestowed upon you by your group of friends. 
you rolled your eyes. “i’ll talk to him!”
“good. call me, okay?” yuta told you, and you nodded as if he could see you, a habit you had yet to break. 
“you just nodded, didn’t you?”
“shut up,” you said lightheartedly, giggling bashfully. 
yuta laughed, but positively didn’t stay around to tease you. “talk to you later.”
“buh-bye.”
the call cut and your phone hit the coffee table. you never winded up calling taeyong. you didn’t intend to lie to yuta, but you had already spent the night at taeyong’s - and some of your other friend’s and family with better security than you - too many times before and you didn’t like the feeling it gave you to depend on them so constantly. of course, it was better to be safe than sorry, but one night on your own wouldn’t hurt. 
besides, if someone broke in, you doubted they’d head for your bedroom. you’d just pretend to be asleep and pray it was all over soon.
spoiler alert: that was not what happened.
in the middle of the night you roused from your slumber in pursuit of one thing; water. but upon glancing over to your nightstand, you noticed your glass was empty. 
you almost didn’t move, almost forced yourself to fall right back asleep and not dare move a muscle. but awake, your mouth became dry at the possibilities of what could happen to you and anyone that knew you.
i’ll only be a second, you assured yourself, rushing into the kitchen. nothing’ll happen. everything will be fine.
it all happened so fast. 
a brimming glass of water in your hand, you twisted your body towards the direction of your bedroom yet only made it one step before you heard a noise. never had you paused dead in your tracks so quickly. the noise became clear to you - the sound of your front doorknob. 
you wanted to believe that you were simply so paranoid to the extent of making up sounds in your head, and frankly you had before, but this was different; this was real.
like a bolt of lightning, you struck behind the counter, accidentally spilling water onto the floor, but that was the least of your concerns. you ducked behind the island, pressing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. regret plagued your heart as now, more than ever, you wished that you would have listened to yuta. you forgot to even call him back, and now there was no telling if you ever would.
the noise didn’t last very long, merely seconds before it turned into that of the front door being opened and shut, followed by footsteps. part of you wanted to peek, though aside from it being awfully risky, you were too stunned to move. your heartbeat throbbed in your ears and you could feel it hammering in your chest against your knees.
so much for locking your doors. you were going to hold your middle finger to the police in a big ‘fuck you’ after this was over - if you made it out alive, that was.
those heavy, unnerving footsteps were the sole noise to cut through the ear-splitting silence. they headed somewhere down the hall and you heaved a big sigh of relief, then drew another in as if that was all the oxygen that the world had left to spare. somehow you were breathing so fast yet not at all. 
in your brief, short-lived fit of relief, your body went slack, and your knee ultimately knocked over the glass that you had forgotten was there. instantly your muscles tensed again, and your fit of relief turned into an outbreak of fear. 
“fuck,” you whispered to yourself and bit your lip. the footsteps returned merely seconds later and you immediately tried to regulate your breath in an effort to remain silent as possible. you prayed to the above that your life wasn’t over.
louder, the footsteps got. quicker. and louder, and quicker, and quicker, and louder. tears began to well from your eyes as terror and your regrets overcame you. you should’ve did this, you should’ve did that. and now that you hadn’t, the price was yours to pay.
all of a sudden, the footsteps paused, and somehow that was more unnerving than the sound of constant moving. you were tucked into yourself, doing your best to be still yet not fully conscious of the fact you were shivering with fear. please, the tiny voice in your head begged for mercy. 
and then, the footsteps continued again. and your heart sank when you saw a shadow from around the island close in on you, until another, masked figure crouched down before you. 
it was when you saw the gun tucked to his side that you lost all hope. it was over.
“found you,” said the masked man through a semi-muffled voice, his tone lighthearted. the vast majority of his face was concealed, though if it weren’t, you would have noticed the smile creep across his face as he saw every ounce of faith in your body instantly die.
found you, he had said in a teasing tone, as if this were hide and seek. maybe that’s all this was to him; a really big, really unfair game.
you said nothing. you were too shocked and far too scared to move a muscle, including your tongue.
“this little hiding spot of yours would have been wonderful,” the stranger began.  “if it weren’t for the mess you’ve made in here.”
the water you spilled earlier. and the pieces of glass that had fallen before you. you hadn’t even noticed that it shattered.
“you should’ve listened to yuta, sweetheart. he told me that you were staying at taeyong’s tonight. i had my suspicions when i saw your car parked outside, but you really are a disobedient soul, aren’t you?”
your heart stilled. only your friends knew about that nickname. and that didn’t explain how he knew yuta, much less what you discussed on a personal phone call. a jarring question emerged in your head. 
with fear heavy in your heart, you whispered, “how did you…?”
the stranger removed his mask; and suddenly he wasn’t such a stranger anymore.
you almost fainted in shock. “johnny?”
johnny flashed you a grin. “that’s my name; don’t wear it out.”
too many emotions plagued your chest and you never would’ve imagined that it would be possible to feel so many things at once. the fear, the dread. the anguish, the betrayal. it was overwhelming.
johnny and you had never been particularly close, though he was in a very specific circle of friends. you met him through yuta, much like everyone else in your friend group did, and whoever yuta trusted, so did you. you were thick as thieves. 
or so you thought. it seemed that in reality, he and johnny were (quite literally) thick as thieves. you couldn’t fathom why yuta would betray you after all you’d been through together.
you shook your head in denial, balking. maybe this was just a nightmare, just a really, really bad dream that you had yet to wake up from.
“you gotta go now,” johnny crooned. then he clawed at you with his large, heavy hands, and begin to drag you out of the kitchen. 
you tried to resist, but he was too strong. it was like fighting with a brick wall. he dragged you into your living room, and when you fell against the floor, you half-expected him to pull out his gun and finish you there, but he didn’t - instead he wrapped his hands around your throat. they were cold against your neck, like a corpse. out of natural instinct, your fingers tried to pry at his hands in an effort to pull him away, but to no avail. it was pointless to try and fight against him, he was larger and stronger and everything in between. you were simply no match for a man like johnny.
and he merely watched. he hovered above you, hands firm around your throat, and watched your trembling hands fall to your side, watched you struggle to speak coherently as you fought for breath, all while his eyes stared into yours and watched the life drain from them. and you were certain that you were on the verge of meeting your end.
but, when you were at the very brink of unconsciousness, he let go.
your chest heaved in pursuit of sucking in as much air as possible, trying to recover from near unconsciousness. he didn’t kill you - at least, not yet. you wanted to be relieved, but you were only confused.
“on second thought,” he whispered, leaning in ever so slightly. “i think i’m gonna keep you. i like the look in your eyes.”
not just the look of fear, but the look of hope and life bleeding from your irises. he liked the power your fear gave him; how he was in control of whether you lived or died, releasing you from his chokehold at the very verge of unconsciousness.
he would be lying dead to your face if he said that it hadn’t gotten him off, if he told you that he hadn’t been tempted to make you his for a while. in return, you had a slight crush on johnny, but it didn’t go anywhere and it sure as hell wouldn’t now that you had been exposed to who he really was.
you were even more confused when johnny slung you over his broad shoulders like you weighed nothing and began to carry you in the direction of your bedroom. your cries of protest went through one ear and out the other, rendering you completely powerless. 
he plopped you down unceremoniously against your sheets and leapt at you hungrily. your pulse sped with alarm when you felt him tug at the band of your underwear, and in spite of your prior futile attempts, you tried to pry him away from you, begging him to stop. 
up until now, johnny’s tone had been lighthearted and taunting, but he switched on a dime when he pulled out his gun and you felt cool metal flush against your temple. “say another word. i fucking dare you,” johnny warned. 
you gulped back every word, effectively silenced. once johnny was certain that you were startled into compliance, he put the gun away and resumed his actions. warm, regretful tears stung your eyes as you lied there helplessly. you closed your eyes, refusing to watch him in fear of the memory being perpetually etched behind your eyelids. 
impatiently, he ripped the fabric off your thighs, venting your bare flesh to the cool air. you shivered, autumn making your skin crawl. the gleam in johnny’s eyes was not lost on you, heavy with lust and nothing but. he had wanted nothing but to destroy you, and ultimately nothing would come in his way. not even yuta. 
“this is all your fault, y’know,” johnny said, smiling at you sinisterly. his teeth clamped into your thigh out of no where, and instead of your eyes wincing shut, they shot open in surprise. johnny snickered and shredded both of you of what remained of your clothes. “all you had to do was listen, baby girl. look where being a little brat gets you.” 
you said and did nothing. you had practically tuned him out, more or less out of preservation for yourself. otherwise, you might have gone insane. but there was no haven for you - no safe place. inward or outward. outside of your body, johnny had full control, but inside, there were plenty of other monsters roaming around in your brain, occupying it with terrifying thoughts. there was nowhere for you to hide. 
johnny was hard - most likely from watching you trembling in fear alone - and used his saliva as a lubricant. you still hissed when he began to thrust inside you, not at all considerably. rivulets of tears bundled together on your cheeks and you clamped your nails into his biceps, trying to anchor yourself on something. your fingernails drew long, irritably red lines on his arms, but he didn’t mind the sting. to johnny, there was no pleasure without pain. 
when your cunt had swallowed him completely, you whimpered, “it’s too big.” 
johnny wiped at the tears on your cheeks and whispered, “you poor thing.” he didn’t do much else. in his mind, you deserved this. you never listened to anyone but yourself, and this was an apt punishment. 
“should we give yuta a call?” johnny asked, noticing your phone lying at your nightstand. if he was being honest, you were a little airheaded. at very least, it would have been smart to bring your phone with you when you ventured out into the kitchen, but of course you didn’t. it was almost like you wanted him to find you, completely defenseless. “i’m sure he would love to hear about this.”
you blinked when he mentioned yuta. you hadn’t called him back earlier, like you were supposed to, but now you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to speak to him again. not after you had learned that he was more or less an accomplice in this mess, no matter how much he tried to protect you. you felt so betrayed and broken. 
though you shook your head, it seemed like you were getting a taste of how it felt to not be listened to, because johnny picked up your phone and forced you to unlock it, then scrolled to yuta’s contact himself and put the phone on speaker. 
yuta picked up after a couple of rings, and skipped the greetings to say, “y/n, what the hell? are you okay?” 
“she’s perfectly fine,” johnny answered for you, though one look at you could obviously show that you were anything but. 
yuta heard his partner’s voice and instantly knew you were in trouble. he exclaimed, “johnny, what the fuck did you do?”
“nothing you wouldn’t want to do yourself,” johnny sang without a care in the world. you watched him silently, face tensing. the emotion that plagued your chest and the thoughts to your mind wouldn’t allow you to speak. “you should feel her yourself. she’s so goddamn tight. it’ll take both of us to loosen her up.”
“i thought i told you to leave her alone,” yuta growled. much to your surprise. maybe he was innocent, but he wasn’t that innocent. he knew half of what johnny was up to all along - he could have done more to protect you from someone he was full aware was dangerous. 
johnny countered, “and i thought i told you no promises.” then, he leaned lower, clamping his teeth into your shoulder to stifle a moan. consequently, you let out a whimper. “don’t act like a saint, my friend. you know you want this just as bad.”
you blinked through your tears. that was news to you. yuta was heavily flirtatious, as were you, but it never went anywhere and you figured it meant nothing. your ears were attentive, waiting to find something in his response to redeem him before he was beyond reclaim. as unforgivable as everything else he had done was, you didn’t want to consider that it was possible for yuta to even want to do anything similar to you.
you heard rushing and fumbling in the background and yuta’s voice said, “y/n, can you hear me? i’m so fucking sorry. i’m on the way.”
johnny simply rammed his hips into you harder, making you squeal from the impact. you closed your eyes and leveled your breath. it was too late for you. johnny was already having as much fun with you as he wanted. 
“yuta’s not gonna save you, baby,” johnny sang to you directly. he did what he pleased, not caring what anyone had to say about it. that was the johnny you knew and had always known. “nobody can.”
389 notes · View notes
spidybaby · 1 year
Text
Gold digger
Summary: A lost item at the airport and a miscommunication can be the end of your relationship.
Warning: cursing.
Part two
A/N: This is pure exaggeration. Please don't believe this is based on any real action. ❤️
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Stress
Was a short-term for Kylian current status.
He lost his toiletry bag at the plane, even tho you fly private, he managed to lose his personal things.
"Kylian, can you please calm down. Everything is going to be okay. We have already changed the house locks, and we froze you credit cards, and they're looking for it." You say massaging his shoulders.
"I can't help but worry, that's my whole identity. I have nothing now."
He was worried because his father suffered from identity theft.
"You have something."
"What?"
"You have me," you hug him from behind. "I know it's not too much, but I'll make sure all your things return to you Kylian. Even if I have to search the plane myself."
He smiles at your reflection on the mirror.
"You're more than enough."
After a small talk, you both were getting ready for his birthday dinner, planning it, and having everything ready from where you were vacationing was hard, but you managed to do it.
When the family started to arrived, you greet everyone and made sure they were all conformable.
"Honey, can I use your bathroom, the two down here are busy."
Wilfrid asked you.
"Yes, use any of the upstairs bathrooms. You don't have to ask, please do."
Wilfrid went upstairs to his sons bathroom, he sees Ethan getting out of your room. "Gotcha," he jokes.
"Jeez, the bathroom is still busy downstairs?"
"Yes, it is. Why do you think I'm here?"
"I'll be with everyone, be careful with the hand washing, y/n got her makeup very close to there and we don't want to ruin anything."
"I'll be careful, go have fun."
Wilfrid did what Ethan told him. He was careful with your makeup.
"Oh, merde," he couldn't find a towel to dry his hands and didn't want to shake them scared to ruin something.
After looking around a little, he noticed the navy blue hand towel on top of a travel bag. Probably Kylians.
"Oh, Ethan, always so messy."
He picked the towel and dried his hands. He was about to leave when he noticed what was inside of the travel bag.
Kylian lost toiletry bag.
He grabbed it, checking it inside. Everything was there, his wallet, his keys, his documents. He was relieved that everything was there.
He was about to turn around and go find everyone to share the news, but he notice other thing.
The travel bag wasn't his son's.
It has some of your personal belongings.
"What?" He's confused about why you have it.
To be honest, he wasn't your biggest fan. He always got that feeling about you that didn't quite convince him about you.
Kylian, of course, always told him off.
But this time, he had proof.
He exists the room as fast as possible, looking for Kylian.
"Arrête, Kylian." He called when he saw him doing shots with Tchaga. "Come with me."
He was confused but did what his father told him. Wilfrid dragged him to his room.
"What is going on with you?"
"Shut up, did you find your things?"
Kylian rolled his eyes. He got asked the same question several times.
"Non."
"What if I told you that it has been on your home all this time?"
"Quoi?" He asked confused
Wilfrid walked back inside the bathroom to grab the big bag, throwing it onto the bed.
"Look inside." His father ordered him.
He does as he's told.
Opening the bag that was originally his, but after a few vacations with you, you made it your own.
When he opens the bag, the first thing he sees is his lost bag.
"You find it." He says excited. "Merde, thank you so much." He was happy. All his things are secured with him.
He's about to hug his father but notices his cold expression.
"I found it, but I found it here."
Kylians frowns.
"That's impossible."
"Is it?"
"Dad, c'mon, what are you implying?"
Wilfrid thinks his words before saying them. "She had the bag Kylian."
But he knew she didn't. He was sure his girlfriend, the one who saw him cry in distress because of the lost of the bag.
"Non."
"Kylian, why would I lied?"
"Non, there has to be another explanation."
"Oh really, then tell me what it is?"
"Don't move."
He's furious. He walks fast looking for you.
"Y/n," he called your name, noticing you and his mother were talking. "Can I borrow you for a second."
"Sure, bébé. I'll be right back."
When you started walking upstairs, he grabbed your arm and hurried your steps.
"Ouch, Ky." You tried to let go, but he wouldn't.
Once he enters the shared room, you see his father.
"Ky, let go, please. You're hurting me."
His father is looking at you with an angry expression.
"What's wrong?" You ask, arm still on his hand. "Kylian, let me go. Please."
He let go of you. He was angry, you know by looking at his face.
"I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me." He says elevating the tone. "Where is my bag?"
"What?" You were confused. "Why would I know?"
"Don't." Wilfrid says. "You sure you don't know?"
"Why would I know?" You repeat. "Kylian, what the fuck?"
He walked to the bed, where the bag you used for your things during this vacation was laying. He opens it and pulls his bag.
"Want to explain yourself?" You look at Wilfrid and then back at Kylian.
You stayed quiet, the tension was thick.
"You believe I did this?"
Kylian is not looking at you anymore. He's looking at the window.
"Kylian," you call higher this time. "You believe I did this?"
He shakes his head. "No, I know there has to be an explanation for this."
"I don't understand." You wanted to cry. "Why would I do this?"
"I'll tell you why?" Wilfrid says. "Take this as you want, but you're a broken college student. You're full of debts. Don't think we don't know that." He says harshly. "So you did it as a way of pretending someone else did it. You know all his card codes it was easy money and bye debts."
You can feel your heart breaking. You didn't know his father had that image of you. Wonder if his whole family thinks the same.
"Kylian." You say out of breath. "You think that too?"
"No, of course no." He's trying to get to you, but you're backing away. "Dad, I don't think. No. Maybe you forgot you put it there."
You shake your head. "I didn't take it. Believe me."
"Then why was it there?" The harsh tone didn't cease.
"I don't know." You start to cry. "I didn't take it, Kylian, please."
"I think," he says before kylian could talk. "You need to pack your stuff and leave. I don't trust you around my son, and I'm not going to allow you to be here seeing what you did. I'm not going to allow a gold digger to be with my son."
You feel humiliated. The man you love is hearing how his father insults you and won't bat an eye.
"Kylian." You tried one more time.
"Kylian, go outside, go back to the party."
The way he obeys his father is incredible for you. He didn't even look at you. His head is hung down.
Once he left you two alone, Wilfrid walked up to you. "Pack your stuff, and don't try anything, I'll call you a cab." You nodded, scared.
He left the room, going downstairs, he sees Kylian chugging a whole glass of liquor. He can't imagine how he's feeling.
"Hey, dad." Ethan called his father attention. "Come here."
Ethan takes his father a little far from where his brother and friends are.
"Guess what I did." He's smiling like crazy.
"I don't know, tell me."
"Well, I spent the whole day at the airport, I found Kylian bag, I know he's down because of that, y/n told me how he's all sad. So I went there and they found it with the covers of the seats at the laundry station."
Wilfrid feels his blood turn cold.
"I left it in one of his bags and covered it with the towel, I'm telling y/n so she can surprise him. Have you seen her?"
The smile on Ethan face is making him feel worse, his eyes turning to Kylian, sitting at the couch trying not to break down. All because of him.
"Merde," he turns around, looking for you.
When he opens the door, he finds uncontrollably crying, packing all your stuff.
"Y/n," he says, getting closer.
"Don't worry, I'll be quick, I'm only taking my own stuff, that I bought with my own money."
He saw how you pack, not knowing how to fix the mess he created.
"Y/n." Ethan calls. "Y/n? What are you doing?" He's now worried. "Dad?"
"Ethan, please go downstairs." You say not wanting him to see you like that. "Please, it's okay, I'm fine. Just go."
"But."
"Go, I'm fine, E."
Wilfrid feels like throwing up, even when he had treated you like crap and accused you of something so terrible, you treated Ethan with such love.
Etha runs downstairs, looking for his brother.
"Kylian, come, please. I don't know what's going on, she's crying, she's packing."
All his friends turned to him, getting worried about the angst scene the little Mbappé is on."
"Kylian, move your fucking ass."
"Don't bother Ethan, just forget about it. Go eat something and ignore everything."
Everyone is looking at Kylian with amused expressions.
"Kylian, is this about the fucking bag? Because if it is, I already told dad that I found it, it's on your dior travel bag. Now can you please come."
His eyes snapped back at his brother. "You did what?"
"I found the fucking pouch, now come upstairs quickly."
Kylian pushes his friends in order to run upstairs. Finding his father outside of the door.
"What the fuck did you do? You told me she had it." He screams. His whole family and friends are now aware of the situation. "What the fuck?"
He enters the room, finding you closing your big suitcase. "Amour, please hear me out."
"Why?" You say angrily. "So you can let your father call me a gold digger again? For you to let me get humiliated by him?"
"What?"
You both turned to Ethan and Fayza, they're standing outside of the closet.
"Dad called you what?" Ethan asks.
"Ethan, please don't get involved into this."
"No! What the fuck is wrong with you, dad?"
"Ethan," you call him. "Please, don't do this."
Fayza and Wilfrid are arguing. She's trying to understand the situation.
"You," E, says, pressing his finger hard into his brothers chest. "Let's him call her a Gold Digger?"
"He said she took the fucking bag" he justified.
"Oh and you fucking believe that?" He laughs "Kylian, your girlfriend have had your whole bank account information for years, she had been taking care of important and expensive jewelry. And you believed that shit?"
You wanted to cry again, Ethan was right. You have been helping your boyfriend with his finances for a long time now, all because you were studying a financial career.
"Y/n, darling, grab your stuff, we're leaving." Fayza says angrily. "And you, she turns to Kylian. "You disappoint me so much, how could you?"
"Fayza, it's okay, I already called a friend." You don't want his family to have a fight because of you.
"Nonsense, you're coming with me. Ethan, help her with her things." Ethan runs to you. "You don't deserve this, I'm sorry."
You let Ethan take your suitcase downstairs.
"Y/n, please amour."
"No!" You push him away. "I've never done anything for you to doubt about me. I was the one who offered you to pay for the things at the hotel, I've been the one who takes care of your wallet and watches during games or parties." You pause, taking air, you wanted to let out everything. "I rejected your help when you offered to pay for my loans, I said no. You want to know why?" You turn to Wilfrid.
At this point, both Kylian and you are crying.
"Because I'm not here for the money, I earn my own, and yes, I'm a broken college student, but I know how to work hard for what I want."
He only look at his shoes.
"Please don't go, I need you."
"No, Kylian." You laugh. "You don't need me. Why would you need someone like me? To feel more important?"
"No, amour."
"Don't call me like that." You scream at him. "I don't want to see you again, I'm done."
"Please," he begged. "What am I going to do without you?"
"I don't know, Kylian." You shake your head. "But if you ever need a gold digger, call me up. Apparently, your father thinks I'm one."
2K notes · View notes
inuhalfdemon · 7 months
Text
The Chain Game (2/3)
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[If anyone knows who I can credit for the above Fanart; PLEASE let me know! This was something sent to me and I haven't been able to track down the artist myself yet...]
Part 2
RadioApple SMUT
Part 1: Here
Part 3: Here
Brainrot into one-shot fanfiction
Rating = 18+
Word Count = 1,726 Words
Ya'll can thank @lily-lilzy-lil for it. She fed me with her kind enthusiasm. Enough so, even that I might already have a part 3 in mind...
“Are we ready for another round?” Lucifer’s voice came from the surrounding darkness.
Alastor hung…kneeling. He was bound tightly by the chains winding across his chest; wrists secured within the links wrapping above his head. The large brimstone shackle was heavy on his neck; the chain to its ring hanging loose and dragging beside him.
“Heh…is that one of the questions?” Alastor smirked, his voice a crackling radio.
A chain slithered from the blackest of shadows; twisting and hissing as it found its way home; curling itself up Alastor’s naked torso and tightening painfully. He hissed as the links burned more brands across his bare, scarred skin. 
“Yes.” Lucifer told him, stepping out from concealing shadows. “It was.” He was shirtless – bare-chested – just as Alastor was; his dress pants and shoes the only remnants to the clothing he had been wearing.
Alastor starred at the King’s exposed upper body. The radio demon’s green eyes flared wide – hungry and gleaming – drool seeping from sharpened teeth. The base to each of his antlers thickened; the smooth bone becoming heavy and long as points branched higher and higher above his head.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Lucifer asked him. “Still rutting I see…”
The demon growled; a low sound intermingling with the sharp sounds of a radio static.
“And, still losing.” Lucifer sighed, another chain slithering past him to lift and strike out just like a snake; catching and winding itself through the ring to the shackle just at the base of Alastor’s throat. The chain jerked and Alastor’s neck was pulled sharply forward.
“You look like you have sobered up, though.” Lucifer told him; approaching carefully. “Tell me, Alastor…now that my ichor has left your system; are you thirsty for more?”
Lucifer flicked clawed fingers; bringing sharp points against his own bare skin, just at the soft bunch of flesh that stretched across one shoulder. Slicing there, gold blood seeped and spilled from the cut; threading down his chest and abdomen.
Alastor snarled in answer; his eyes flaring brighter, antlers growing longer, his hair standing up – sharp and bristled; overwhelmed by his overpowering need.
“Yes…” The radio to his voice nearly screeching. “…your majesty…”
“Well, now.” Lucifer stepped closer. “Honesty and manners this time. A reward for you…I think.”
A chain dropped from Alastor, winding its way back into the dark as the other chains still supporting him shifted and moved. Alastor’s hands were released but the chains encircling his chest and neck were dragging him backward so that when they found their placements; the radio demon was stretched fully on his back; pinned to the ground. He tried to move; trying even to just to be able to prop himself up in order to see what the King was doing; but the chain tightly secured to his shackle held fast.
Alastor’s ears worked nervously. He was starring up into complete darkness; his body tense with the knowledge that Lucifer meant for him to not know what was coming.
When he felt Lucifer’s hands on his legs - moving them so that they were spread easily wide apart - and the King moved between them, Alastor growled. The sound was low and warning; promising a deadly reciprocation to whatever the fallen angel intended; given the chance…  
He felt the King moving, climbing over him so that he leaned across and over Alastor’s chest; his hands supporting his weight from either side of Alastor’s head. Lucifer’s wide golden eyes matched Alastor’s flaring bright green ones; a wicked smile spread across the King’s face as he leaned himself closer to Alastor’s face. Baring his sharp teeth and flattening his ears, Alastor fought to lift his head; meaning to bite. The chain restraining his neck tightened and any give that Alastor had found in it before was now lost.
 Laughing, Lucifer smiled down at the sinner demon lying just beneath him.
“I promised you your reward. I keep my promises, Alastor.” Lucifer told him, leaning closer so that they were face-to-face; Lucifer only just out of reach from Alastor’s sharp and pointed teeth. Lucifer tilted his head; fully exposing his still-bleeding wound he had opened across his shoulder.
Alastor’s growling choked in his throat; seeing the golden strands tracing down the King’s chest; sparce warm drops falling onto Alastor’s bare skin. The growling had turned into a brief but desperate whine for relief; Alastor’s clawed hands digging into the ground beside him; finding no purchase – claws cutting grooves into the dark floor.  
“I’m afraid you’ll have to use that rather useful tongue of yours.” Lucifer was telling him; leaning back just enough to give Alastor the best angle for full access.
Without a moment for hesitation, Alastor’s tongue lashed from between his bared teeth – long and dripping - it lapped at the streams of golden blood. A groan emitted from Alastor; barbs from his tongue pressing roughly against the fallen angel’s skin as he hungrily scraped for every…last…drop.  
Alastor’s eyes started glazing over and Lucifer chuckled.
“You’re not a very fast learner…are you.” Lucifer said darkly. It wasn’t a question. Alastor’s tension was gone. Drunk with the angel’s blood; he retreated his tongue – eyes closing as he let his head fall back.
Leaving him to his buzz; Lucifer crawled back down to kneel between Alastor’s long legs. He began working at the radio demon’s dress pants; reaching just behind the seam at the crotch, finding the bulge within and sliding Alastor’s seeping and engorged cock out.
Alastor shuddered; pleasurably. Gasping at the contact.
“You know,” Lucifer said, holding the large penis in his hand. “I, too, can do some pretty…interesting things with my tongue.” His eyes flared; sharply golden. “Shall I…demonstrate?” He asked in a purr.
“Yes.” Alastor was groaning again. “Your Majesty.”  
“That’s my deer…” Lucifer told him.
Using his own tongue now, he let it slither from between his teeth. Just as a snake’s, it stretched and flicked itself so that it tortuously skimmed the underside of Alastor’s cock – touching all along the base and shaft underneath then going to flick at the soft skin along his balls.    
Alastor was panting. A redness was spreading across his chest and face; a slick sheen of sweat coating his skin.
Lucifer continued to teasingly flick his tongue all along Alastor’s root; occasionally bringing it around to circle the shaft. The muscle there was tightening quickly.
Pausing briefly, Lucifer adjusted his hold on Alastor’s throbbing penis. “Careful, you don’t want to miss out on the best part.” Snaking his tongue out; Lucifer carefully elongated the shape so that the forks lengthened and thinned. Expertly, he directed the tips to the slit at the head of the slick cock; sliding them inside.
Alastor bucked and Lucifer pressed clawed hands into each hip; holding him steady and he worked his tongue so that it slid in further.
“Ah….” Alastor was lost. The stimulation was too incredible. Timing it perfectly, Lucifer snaked his forked-tongue deeper before slowly retreating it back out. Alastor’s body shook. Removing his tongue entirely; Lucifer took Alastor’s cock fully and quickly into his mouth; biting down sharply just as the organ tightened and sprayed cum.
Softly coiling his tongue all along the twitching cock; Lucifer sucked and swallowed before dropping it limp from his mouth.
Lucifer stood up from where he had been kneeling; there, between the radio demon’s legs.
Alastor laid, still panting and gasping. The deep red color his skin had turned was contrasting the brands of chain links in an interesting way. His clawed hands were shaking and he was drenched in sweat now. His body twitched; still feeling the waves of ecstasy crashing over it.
Lucifer laughed; stepping away to loosen his own dress pants now. He paused; then as if deciding something he slipped out of the remaining clothes entirely.
“You certainly know how to take your…licks.” Lucifer said. “If you actually are in the middle of a rut though…it’s you that could do with some mounting. I suppose you’re in enough of a manageable state that I could allow it.”
Lucifer stepped back to where he had left Alastor; still tightly restrained to the floor.
“What say you?” Lucifer asked him; the chains around Alastor coming loose now but never fully leaving him.
Alastor moved slowly. He was dazed; both from the remnants of ichor and the orgasm. Turning, he went to stand up; then thinking better of it he knelt back to the floor; eyes on the King.
“Your majesty…”  Alastor knelt; looking up – compliant.
“Good boy.”  Turning away from him – fully naked - Lucifer waved a hand and every chain holding Alastor dropped and went away into the dark; every chain save for the one holding to Alastor’s heavy brimstone collar.
Alastor smiled; standing and going to the King; dragging his chain with him.
Stopping to stand just behind Lucifer, Alastor paused; eyes flaring green, his antlers curling and twisting ever upwards.
“You may…regret this.” He said before he sunk the claws of his left hand into the flesh of Lucifer’s left hip; pulling the angel into him and spilling more blood. His right arm wrapped around the King, his clawed fingers finding his face and mouth; shoving them inside.  Snarling; he bit deep into the wound at Lucifer’s shoulder; swallowing hard as golden liquid poured out.
“Ahhhhhh…” Lucifer sunk to his knees and Alastor followed him down. His teeth still buried in the fallen angel’s shoulder; he forced the King down on all fours. Lucifer choked on his fingers; golden blood pooling on the ground from his wounds.
Gasping, Alastor released Lucifer’s shoulder. His vision blurred and darkened; the influence of angelic blood mixing with the influence of his rut. He was already hard again; his erection pressing fully into Lucifer’s bare back.
“Now…my King.” Alastor was purring darkly; sliding his fingers from Lucifer’s mouth. “I will gift to you the most fitting of thrones…”   
Lucifer gagged; blood and spit running down his chin.
“Do your worst…my deer.”
--‐‐--‐‐-‐--‐----‐---‐----------‐--‐----------------------------------------------------
Alastor jerked awake; déjà vu catching him even in his ‘half-asleep’ state.  
“Oh, what the Hell-” Followed by a sleepy yawn. “What fucking time is it?”
The room was pitch black; then a bedside light came on.
“Uh...” Alastor said, shifting awkwardly in the bed.
“AGAIN!?” Lucifer exclaimed loudly.
“Well…” Alastor replied.
“If this keeps happening, you and you’re one-eyed monster are sleeping somewhere else!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 3
Brainrot credit:
@De Bergerac
The Masochism Tango
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diremoone · 10 months
Text
sweet dedication | g. satoru
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a year after his fight with sukuna, satoru finally gets to enjoy his birthday in peace, with no one but his beloved wife.
w — fluff, post-canon, lots of food :3, i incorporated a doggo sue me, vv short but hopefully sweet 🥰
Happy Birthday, My Beloved Satoru ❤️❤️
[ line divider credit to @/saradika ]
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The last thing Satoru expected to smell coming through the front door of his home was a mixture of cinnamon and cherries. He shrugged off the jacket from his shoulders and curiously stepped further into his home. Upon seeing the kitchen table and every counter, his eyes went wide and mouth fell open.
On the kitchen table was at least four boxes of pizza, chicken wings, fried chicken, and brisket. Towards the end of the table farther fell the front door were sides, like green bean casserole and corn. His mouth began to water, his inner food junkie rearing it’s hungry head.
Across the counters and clearly in the oven were desserts, desserts, and more desserts — apple and cherry pie, cheesecake, fruit kebabs, crepes, mochi, brownies, kikufuku from Sendai. Gosh, what was the occasion?
And then the man sees above the hallway entrance that leads to the other rooms: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Satoru gapes.
Was it really December 7th?
He checks his phone and his brows raise in surprise. How in the world did he forget?
But you didn’t. You would’ve been the only one available to have made such a feast for him (even if it was mostly sweets), since everyone else was out on missions, still trying to tidy up Japan after the Culling Games’ toll.
He feels his heart swell with love and happiness, happy that you’ve remembered a date that he’s thrown to the side for so many years. He’s happy that you’ve done so much here for him, a genuine showcase of how much you really loved him and knew him by cooking all of his favorites. This must’ve taken you hours and hours to do; this being a clear proclamation of how much you’ve dedicated yourself to him and to knowing him.
“Babe?” he calls out to open air. No response. He’s smart by checking the kitchen first; you’d never leave cooking food unattended.
Satoru’s mouth quirks up into a sweet smile at the sight of passed out, sitting on the kitchen floor with your inseparable corgi Maple snoozing away right next to you. Although he squints at the sight of your neck lolled to the side in the corner of the cabinets. That didn’t look comfortable at all.
He’s not sure if he should take you to bed or wake you up right now. After a moment, he decides the former. But as soon as you’re scooped up and secured against his broad chest, your eyes flutter open. Maple wakes up too, barking and wiggling her butt, happy to see her dad.
“Oh, my god. Satoru!”
He winks. “The one and only baby.”
Your brain has always been fast about remembering all of the events prior to any sort of sleep or nap you’ve had. This time was no different, and he chuckles when you begin to groan and complain about your surprise being ruined.
“God, I can’t believe I fell asleep! How does one even sleep on the kitchen floor. My ass hurts, Jesus,” you complain. You burrow your head into the crook of his neck in embarrassment as he carries you to the couch and sits down with you on his lap. Maple bounds up behind him and miraculously uses her little legs to hop up on the couch. Satoru chuckles and takes a moment to briefly give her belly rubs.
“Thank you for trying to make this day special for me,” your ‘Toru says. It’s sweet, the tone of his voice, filled with love and adoration. “Don’t feel bad. That looks like a lot of cooking you did, so it’s only natural you’d fall asleep at some point. So don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”
You grumble but nod anyway. It was true. You’d been awake ever since he’d left earlier this morning, putting the pedal to the floor on your attempt to swamp the love of your life with all of his favorite foods made by hand.
“I love you, Satoru,” you mumble, still tired and sleepy from overextending yourself.
“I love you, too, baby.” His lips press a long kiss to the side of your temple. He pulls away to gaze down into your eyes, chuckles escaping him again at seeing the sleepy haze in them. “Thank you for trying to make my special day special.”
“But I still didn’t get to surprise you,” you complain.
“I wasn’t expecting it when I came home, especially now with everything going on. I think that’s a big enough surprise for me,” he argues. “So come on, cheer up! We have some delicious delicious food to eat made by my sweet, adorable, wonderful wifey-poo! Except the pizza of course!”
You deadpan. “Call me that again and I’ll smash the strawberry shortcake I made as your birthday cake in that expensive jacket you bought last week.”
Satoru gasps dramatically in horror.
“You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.”
“Not if I eat it first!”
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taglist:
@vagabond-umlaut @heresan @4sat0ruu and @/all my satoru lovers also i shouldn’t have taken that nap otherwise this taglist would be longer lmaoo
let’s raise a glass to this man who deserves the entire fucking world
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storm-angel989 · 3 months
Note
Valentino x Daughter reader where reader sneaks out and comes back in the middle of the night drunk and he catches us. What would happen? -Dont forgot to drink lots of water and get a lot of sleep love! 😁
As promised, another take on this request! Enjoy!
<3 Mandy
“You’re joking, right? She honestly thinks she’s slick?” Velvette asked as she watched the screen on her phone. 
The clock on her bedside stand flashed one am. Until moments ago, she had been curled up against her stain pillow, fast asleep, dreaming of her next big design. Unfortunately, her slumber was interrupted by Vox and Valentino on either side. She scowled and started to yell at them to get out of her bed. That is, until Vox pressed his phone into her hand.
“Valentino, your daughter is something fucking else,” she snorted.
Valentino looked annoyed. “My daughter? She’s your niece too.”
Vox snorted, “yeah, but look at that getup. That’s your kid, Valentino.”
Valentino groaned as he watched his scantily clad daughter slip out the back door of the V tower. “Where did her tracker say she was? Should we stage an intervention?”
Velvette rolled her eyes. “Nah. Let her think she’s so smart and catch her the second she walks in the door. That will scare her more than anything.” She settled herself back against the pillows. “Vox! Turn on the TV. You guys want to watch a movie while we wait for reader to come home?” 
The clock chimed three when reader finally stumbled into the lobby. Vox clicked the television over from the movie to the security cameras. 
“I should have made popcorn, Val. I can’t wait to see you parent this,” Velvette cackled. “Seriously, it’s like watching you when you were her age.”
Valentino huffed as he watched his daughter start to stumble towards the elevator. “First off, when I was her age I didn’t exactly have anywhere to sneak out from, let alone someone waiting for me at home. Second of…I would have done it better.” He pushed himself up out of bed. 
“Done it better? How so? Val, if I remember right…” Vox began. 
Valentino cut him off with a look. “Listen. Not in front of my kid, alright? Save those stories for another time. Like when she’s of legal drinking age.” 
He stepped into the kitchen just as the back door to the stairwell opened. He had to give her credit for riding the elevator up to the floor just below theirs and sneaking up the back staircase. It was a good plan, but with her Uncle being who he was, it wasn’t the best plan she could have come up with. 
He flicked on the lights and she stopped dead in her tracks, frozen like a deer in the headlights. 
“Papi? Wh-what are you doing up?” She slurred. “You..you’re supposed to be in bed.”
“I was. Care to explain why you’re not?”
She stared at him with the same drunken stare his clients often had. He sighed and stepped towards her.
“Tell me bebita, how much have you had to drink?”
She crossed her arms and stumbled to the side.  “Why’d you care Daddy?”
He looked at her in amusement. “More than enough then. Come on, sweetheart, let’s put you to bed. We can talk about consequences in the morning.” 
“I don’t want a consequence!” She muttered. 
Valentino held back a grin. “I know you don’t.” 
He followed her to her room. Velvette gave him a knowing look and slipped in before closing the door.
“Don’t worry Val, she’ll get her into her pjs safely. And here, have her drink this,” Vox suggested. He handed Valentino a cold bottle of red gatorade. “If it doesn’t immediately come back up, she’s probably fine.” 
“Doesn’t matter, I’ll be babysitting tonight anyway. Just in case,” Valentino grumbled as the door open. 
Vox shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“Boys, you can come in,” Velvette called. 
Valentino glanced to Vox and pushed open the door. Both broke out in grins at the sight that greeted them. Reader, curled up, head against her pillow, half on Velvette, who was propped up next to her in bed. Across the room, the TV glowed softly. 
“I think I’ll be the one on babysitting duty,” Velvette grumbled. “I only got her in bed if I promised her I’d have a sleepover.”
“Oh. She’s gonna hate that in the morning,” Valentino grinned. He set the bottle of gatorade on the nightstand. “Good luck with that.”
“Oh fuck you. Both of you, shoo. Next time, Valentino, it’s on you,” Velvette warned. “And Vox? Maybe vamp up security so there won’t be a next time.”
“Noted,” Vox smirked as he and Valentino turned to leave the room. “Night Vel.”
“You sure you got her? She is my…” Valentino began.
“If you say ‘my daughter’ like I haven’t spent the last sixteen years of my life with her, I’ll shoot you myself. Go. Get on. Shoo.” Velvette snapped. 
Valentino grinned but he made his way back to his bedroom. Now to think of a creative consequence.
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fuck-customers · 9 months
Note
Kind of a fuck customers but also a satisfying story at the same time.
My role in the call center I work in involves taking specifically corporate calls, which means I spend all day talking to “business professionals” (and I use that term loosely) including CEOs. As you can imagine, over 90% of these CEOs are the scum of the earth and the most entitled assfaces on the planet.
A week or so ago, I took a call and went through my usual routine of greeting the cardholder and then began going over verification questions. Since we’re A.) a bank and B.) a bank that handles corporate and government credit cards, we take security seriously and require a caller to be able to verify 3 pieces of information based on what the person responsible for their credit cards put on the account. If they don’t pass, we refer them to their company to get the right details.
So as I’m doing this, the guy on the phone is getting increasingly irritated as he keeps getting the security questions wrong. I’m calm and professional the entire time but firm. Eventually I run out of things to verify with him and tell him that we won’t be able to assist and that he needs to contact his administrator. This is apparently where I went wrong.
“LADY I AM THE ADMINISTRATOR!!” He screeches. Ok, great. I look him up and that’s true but there’s a second admin listed, so I ask him to check in with him. He then yells “THERE IS NO OTHER ADMIN! I’M THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!”
I apologize and tell him while that may be true, he still got his security questions wrong and needs to reach out to his account coordinator then. This man then proceeds to scream at me for the next minute or so saying how we’re an awful bank, how he’s had problems with us for years, blah blah and how we have the worst customer service ever. Keep in mind, I’ve been nice and empathetic this entire time but also I’m not gonna lose my fucking job just because a guy in a suit doesn’t know his shit. I give him the email to his account coordinator and stress again that he needs to talk to them. Then this exchange happens:
Him: “So let me get this straight. You are saying you are REFUSING and UNWILLING to help me, right?
Me: “No, actually I’d love to help you, however we have these security procedures in place for yours and your company’s protection and cannot make exceptions for anyone.”
Him: “This is fucking UNBELIEVABLE! I’ve HAD IT with this bank!!”
Me: “Ok, I’m sorry to hear that. Anything else I can do for you before we disconnect?”
Him: “WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I NEED YOUR NAME. NOW.”
Me: *gives my first name and spells it for him even though it’s a very basic 4 letter name because I’m a bitch*
Him: YOUR LAST NAME.
Me: “We don’t give out anything but our first name for the safety of our employees.”
Him: *insert that condescending, pissed off chuckle middle aged men do when they’re mad here* “Well I’ll tell you what (My Name), when I close this account and pull my MILLIONS OF DOLLARS out of (bank name) and they ask me why, I’ll make sure to tell them that it’s (My Name)’s fault. And I will see to it that you won’t be able to get another job outside of the minimum wage fast food job or whatever you had before this. How does that sound?”
Me: “Sounds great. Now seeing as how this conversation is no longer productive or professional and threats are being made, I’ll be terminating the call, have a nice day.”
Him: “DO NOT HANG UP O-“
Me: *click*
And that’s how making rich, powerful men rage-cry became my new favorite hobby. Thankfully, I haven’t gotten any feedback on that call; not that I would, seeing as how I did my job exactly how I was supposed to. Anyways I hope I’m his 13th reason. ❤️
Posted by admin Rodney.
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Careful- Emily Prentiss X GN Reader!
Synopsis: You get injured in the field, and Emily just wants you safe.
Warnings: Descriptions of wounds but not really, Emily just takes care of you. Mostly fluff, basically a Drabble. No gender specified.
Word Count: 1.2k
A/n: I wrote this just so you guys have something while I finish this forsaken Lesso OneShot, I'm sorry it's taken me forever to get anything out. I'm currently working two jobs and saving up for my own place so I'm a bit busy Imao.
☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎
Emily's gun had fired a loud shot, but it wasn't loud enough to cover the sound of your seared gasp.
Her one bullet had taken out the unsub, but not before he got a bullet of his own out. Only, his bullet traveled straight into your shoulder.
Her gun was still trained on his body, now being checked for a pulse by Hotch, but her eyes were trained on you.
You were clutching your shoulder, blood now oozing through your fingers, partly hunched over trying to calm your breathing.
You were used to the pain of bullets, it was nothing new to you, but that didn't make the pain any better.
"Y/n?!" Emily shouted, gaining the attention of the team.
"I'm okay! I'm okay! Let's just secure the scene and find the hostage." You stood straight once more, trying to go further into the house.
"Y/n, you've been hit! You need medical!" Morgan came up to your side.
"It's not the worst thing I've dealt with, let's go!" Everyone on the team has been shot at least a handful of times, and everyone has been abducted at least once, you can manage a shoulder hit.
"Y/l/n, wait outside for medics. That's an order." Hotch finally added.
An annoyed groan came from you but you still did as told from your superior.
You didn't wait but maybe ten minutes before two ambulances showed up, presumably one for you and one for the hostage.
Emily desperately wanted to be at your side while the ambulance took you to the hospital, but Hotch ordered her to go with the hostage to wait with her while her family arrived.
To her dismay, Emily didn't get to leave the hospital until you had already gotten a ride back to your shared townhouse.
She sped down the highway, going as fast as the car would let her. She was a federal agent, what would the state officer do even if they could pull her over?
You'd think you were barely clinging to life with the way she sped and swerved the lanes.
Truthfully, she was just concerned. She couldn't see you at the scene before you were hauled away, and then the family had to fly in from another state to see the victim. It was safe to say she was desperate to see you.
You were unsurprised to hear a car speed into the driveway. Your townhome wasn't the biggest, so you heard the tires screeching while you were in the bathroom, trying to pull off the bandage from the back of your shoulder.
Not even 10 seconds went by from the time she pulled up in the drive to the moment she was walking through the front door.
"Y/n?!" You sighed, knowing how this conversation would go. It goes the same every time one of you gets hurt.
"In here." You shouted from sitting on the vanity.
Again, not a moment passed before she was by your side.
Emily walked through the bathroom door to see you sitting on the bathroom counter, first aid supplies and wrappers all skewed around you, topless and trying to reach around to your back. To your credit, you had gotten the bandage mostly off, just some of the medical adhesive was out of your reach.
Emily could see the stitches on your shoulder, briefly looking into the mirror and seeing your exhaustion she also caught a glimpse of another bandage.
"A through and through?" Was all Emily asked, she's seen you in this situation far more times than she'd like to admit.
You merely nodded, giving into trying to take off the bloody bandage. Normally you would've left it alone, but you guessed a stitch ripped and it caused you to bleed through the bandage.
Emily wordlessly took over, you knew she would, and carefully pulled the rest of the bandage off. She paused a bit as she heard you let out a seared gasp.
"Sorry, you're good." You caught each others eyes in the mirror.
"That was stupid, Y/n," She spoke softly.
"Emily..." You groaned, you've been here before and you just wanted a clean wound so you can go to bed.
"Y/n, you knew the profile. And you still tried to reason with the guy!" Emily was annoyed but she wasn't truly surprised, you've always tried to be the voice of reason with anyone, and you've always been the one to try to keep the bullets from flying. The irony, right?
"I know, Emily! I was stupid and reckless, I've heard it before. And I'll hear it again tomorrow from Hotch when I have to write a report, just leave it. Please." This conversation was one you could recite from memory, hearing it a few times a year.
She sighed, "I know, look I'm sorry. I care about you, okay? I just want you to be more careful."
"I know you do Em, that's how I am with you too. And we both know that we both agree to be more careful until the next case comes along." Emily said nothing as she taped the clean piece of gauze onto your shoulder.
She tapped on your uninjured shoulder and you took your silent cue to turn around for her to replace the other gauze.
"You got lucky." Her tone was laced with concern and you could tell she tried to hide the little bit of impression in her face.
She was right, you managed to talk the doctors out of giving you a sling as long as you promised to take it easy. And as you said, you promise until the next case comes. Hopefully there'll be a week before the next case...
She started to say something else but you weren't paying attention to her words. You were paying attention to the way her brows furrowed with concentration as she avoided the wound while cleaning. You were focused on how she was delicate yet precise with her movements, probably from all the experience she's got.
Emily wanted to be upset with the fact that you weren't listening to her advice, but she really couldn't. It wasn't the fact that she's a broken record, telling you things you've heard hundreds of times, but the fact that you were so almost entranced by her.
Emily couldn't help but notice the look in your eye, it's the same one she has when she looks at you. How even though you were in pain, you were still mindful of her.
But that's the thing, pain or not, Emily was still the same sensitive person you fell in love with. She was your painkiller. Always there to make you feel better, regardless of the ailment.
"Thank you, Em." You said quietly as she finished up on the front piece of gauze, collecting and tossing the trash from her work and your attempt of bandaging.
"Always. I'll always be here for you." She said in the same softness you spoke in.
"You promise?" You looked her directly in those beautiful eyes.
She hesitated a bit, knowing of her past she can't guarantee anything, especially a long life with you, "I promise."
You simply smiled and rested your head on her chest. This move of yours filling her heart with the love she's always wanted, the love she never thought she deserved.
🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮
Taglist: @just-your-casual-nerd @v3nusxsky @bigolgay @hxzxrdous @pebbleswritessometimes @sgelessoanddoveykissing @scream-queenlover @darkth1ngs, lmk if you wanna join my taglist!
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lincolndjarin · 1 year
Text
Best Kept Secret
chapter twenty two : it's you that i lie with
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧
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pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 11.3k
summary : in the wake of the mandalorians rash decisions he and the princess must await judgement day.
warnings, etc. : language, angst, mentions of alcohol, more smut then a person could ever possibly need, p in v sex, din "consent king" djarin, vaginal fingering, oral f!recieving, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, hate sex (hate not included,) sex as a means to distract your spouse from being angry with you, thigh fucking, clit stim, L bombs all over, edging, accidental exhibitionism, i probably missed a few tags sorry!!
a/n : hey lovelies it's my bed time now! this chapter is super long and i'm sleepy so pls lmk if there's any big mistakes cause the edit on this took over an hour so i might have missed something &lt;3
Naboo has several trading ports. 
You could get him on a cargo ship. That would be the most inconspicuous form of transport. It would help if he was willing to ditch his armor. 
He’s too noticeable like this. He’ll need to stash it somewhere and wear clothes that will help him blend into crowds. 
And you can’t go with him. 
You know that. 
You won’t be able to keep up. You’d only slow him down, and of course, the target on his back increases tenfold if he has you with him. 
So he’ll have to go alone. 
He has plenty of credits but you can give him some of your jewelry to pawn for extra, just in case. 
Is Kodo smart enough to realize that this was an act of possession and not treason? If he is then your personal security will be increased to the point that Din shouldn’t come back for you. 
Fuck. 
Okay. That’s fine. You can live with that. 
As long as he’s safe. 
He sounds mad. 
You aren’t looking at him currently. Just staring at Kodo. limp on the ground, blood pooling from his nose onto the stones. 
You aren’t even saying anything why does it sound like he’s arguing with you? You finally turn around to look at him and Elaine is standing next to him, a hardened look on her face. 
You can’t focus on a word they’re saying. The ringing in your ears refuses to let up. 
They just keep arguing. 
It sounds like he’s trying to reason with her, desperately. 
You can’t focus on them because you’re too worried. Every part of you is worried. 
Kodo won’t just kill him for this. He’ll make an example out of him. Especially if he realizes Din’s motive. Just as you start to imagine all the different things they could do to him Elaine wraps her arms around your shoulders. 
“My lady, I know you’re in a bit of shock right now but we need to act and we need to act fast.” Her voice is urgent but it’s clear she’s still trying to be gentle. She turns around to glare at Din. “Go rinse the blood off your gloves, now.”
He silently makes his way to the fresher as Elaine pulls you away from your unconscious husband, letting you lean against the wall. 
“We need to get him off planet.” You whisper, finally meeting Elaine’s gaze. 
“I know, princess, I already tried. But he won’t go.” That manages to completely snap you out of your haze.
“What?”
“I told him he needed to leave. He won’t. Not without you, and we both know how unwise that would be.” She straightens your dress a bit, almost as if out of habit as you gawk at her. 
“Elaine, he has to go.” You’re still whispering. Unable to make yourself speak louder. 
Her eyes are full of pity. 
“I know he does, my lady, but he won’t. And we don’t have time to convince him otherwise.” She’s right. If he’s already set in his decision there’s no changing his mind and you need to act fast. “We have a different plan, princess. We don’t have a lot of options now so I need you to pull it together, okay?” She gives your shoulders a gentle squeeze as the Mandalorian returns. Gloves washed and dried. 
Clean. 
“You have to go.” You immediately step in front of him, as if by some act of the gods you can get him to see reason but all he does is shake his head no. 
“We don’t have time to argue about this. I’m staying. What do I need to do?” He stares at Elaine who’s scowling at him as she takes a step back, sighing.
“You need to stay out of my way while I figure this out. You’ve caused enough problems.” She looks beyond angry with him.
For good reason.
This has to be the stupidest thing he’s ever done. 
“Obviously, the safest bet would be for your Mandalorian to get as far away from here as possible.” She shoots him another glare. “Since he won’t, we need to go with the next safest bet. Which is going to rely on a whole lot of luck.”
Considering the fact that his life is on the line, you don’t love the idea of relying on chance. 
“Kodo’s been on a bender since you didn’t show up for dinner, he hasn’t been sober in days, so we need to hope- to pray, that he doesn’t remember this.”
But what if he does?
“We all know what’s going to happen if he does.” She immediately answers your worried thoughts but it doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest. “We just need to make up a story.”
Elaine seems to be trying to piece her plan together as she paces the hall, Din takes the opportunity to check on you, finally. His hands cup your face. 
“Are you okay?” He sounds like he knows the answer. 
No. You aren’t okay. 
You aren’t okay with what almost just happened and you aren’t okay with what happened instead.
But everything is bad right now. 
Very bad.
And you can’t break down. So instead you hug him. Briefly. Like you aren’t absolutely furious with him.
“I’m okay.” And for now you’re both okay with it being a lie. Your moment of comfort in his arms is short as Elaine pulls you away.
“I need you to tell me exactly what happened.” She’s stern with you. Like an adult talking to a child, normally you’d be offended but someone needed to take charge of the situation and you’re just glad it isn’t you. 
“We were on a walk, D- Mando and I. When we came back to my room Kodo was waiting for me.” She nods slowly as you speak, urging you to carry on. “He started rambling and then he grabbed my dress and then Mando…” You don’t need to finish your sentence, it’s clear what happened next. 
“Okay. I can work with that.” She says mostly to herself before looking you in the eyes once more. “I need you to do exactly as I say, can you do that?” You nod and she turns to Din, frowning before he nods as well. “Okay, here’s the thing princess, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re important.” 
Your confusion is certainly apparent on your face.
“The people in the city adore you. It’s the first time the citizens have so much as tolerated a Naboo royal in decades. And it’s not just the people that love you, it’s the staff here.” She takes your hands in hers, a comforting gesture as she continues to nod at you as if it helps convey her words better. 
“How can the staff love me? I don’t even know the staff?” You wonder out loud as she gives your hands a squeeze.
“Exactly, my lady, you have an endless supply of servants at your disposal and yet you remain independent. You only ask for help when you need it, you’re kind and you’re respectful. But most importantly, you look at us, you don’t stare right through us like we aren’t even here, you see us.” You’d never thought of it that way, you just didn’t want to bother anyone if you didn’t have to, you always just did what felt natural. 
“That’s very kind of you to say, but I don’t see how that helps us.” You tilt your head to the side as you try to decipher her words. 
“We are going to rely on that adoration, princess. What I am going to do is what the servants in this castle do best, I am going to gossip.” 
“What exactly are you going to tell them?” 
“The truth.” She grins at you like some sort of mastermind but you’re getting more and more concerned.
“You can’t, he’ll be tried for treason.” You glance towards Din who remains unmoving behind Elaine. 
“Except he won’t because we’re going to leave out certain details when we recount tonight's events. I am going to tell them that we were on a walk, and when you  returned Kodo tried to hurt you, in his drunken state he fell, and broke his nose on the floor.”
It’s ridiculous.
But she might just be a genius. It’s all true. You won’t have to remember any false details. 
“I still don’t understand why you have to spread the story around though, why don’t we just tell the guards that’s what happened?” Din finally speaks up.
“Because once people know, Kodo won’t be able to avoid it. He’ll realize people know, especially when people in the city get restless. At your next dinner with him, which you will be attending, you remind him of the fact that he can’t hurt you unless he wants a full on uprising in the streets.” She claps her hands together like it’s the perfect plan but there’s so many ways this could go wrong. “You don’t have to worry about your Mandalorian and you guarantee yourself future protection from your husband.”
She’s staring at you, waiting for a response but honestly you don’t even know where to start.
“I will go get guards, we’ll tell them the abridged version of what happened, once that’s done I’ll get to work on spreading the word.” 
“And then?” You stare at Elaine. Eyes wide with concern, you can’t seem to stop whispering, like you’ve lost your voice. 
“And then, we pray. We pray that when he wakes, he doesn’t remember what really happened. Because that’s the only way this works.” She’s looking around the hallway anxiously now. “We don’t have any time to argue on this.” She gives you one last glance and after a moment of thought you nod. She’s right, you don’t have time to come up with a better plan. She doesn’t waste another second and rushes off to alert a guard. 
Leaving you standing alone with Din. 
You want to scream at him. Shove him. Something. For doing this, how could he be so stupid?
But you can’t. 
Because if he hadn’t, Maker only knows what you’d be doing right now. 
So instead, you just stare at your shoes. Refusing to look at him. He knows exactly how you feel about his choices these last couple of minutes so he makes the smart choice to not push you. 
It isn’t long before Elaine is returning with half a dozen guards. 
You let Elaine do all the talking. Explaining that she took you on a walk when you couldn’t sleep. She’s a good actress. 
You play your part well as well, you don’t even have to act, you really are shaken up as you lean against the wall. Nodding to corroborate Elaine’s story. 
Din stands defensively next to you the entire time. As if the guards might find a hole in your story and seize you. 
But that never happens. 
The guards all give you sympathetic looks.
They all know Kodo. They know that this story is more than believable. A couple of the men carry him off towards the infirmary. Only one guard stays, you assume she’s of a higher station based on her medals, and her uniform being a different color.
“Would it help your nerves if we increased your security, princess? On behalf of the royal family we apologize for this freak accident.” Her voice is low, professional. 
Freak accident. 
She’s already doing damage control. 
Word can’t get out that the future king of Naboo frightened his beloved wife like this, this needs to be presented as something that couldn’t possibly happen, even though they all believed it was possible, without question.
“No thank you, I have my Mandalorian.” You’re still whispering. Unable to find the strength to speak up. “I will just have him stay close.”
She raises an eyebrow
“Are you sure?” She hesitates for a moment. “It isn’t my place to question you, your highness, but he was unable to stop this attack, how will he prevent further accidents?” 
Sure, you’re mad at Din but something about the way this woman questions his abilities to protect you makes you furious. At the end of the day, Kodo really had tried to hurt you, and Din had stopped it. 
“You’re right.” You find your voice, finally speaking above a whisper. “It isn’t your place.” You stare at the woman until she finally bows. 
“My apologies, your highness. I’m just stating a fact, you clearly weren’t protected enough. Extra guards may help.” She mumbles. 
You don’t care for this woman’s tone.
“What exactly was he supposed to do? Attack the future monarch? Commit an act of treason?” There’s a lot of anger in your tone considering that’s exactly what happened. 
But you’re mad at Din, and you can’t yell at him right now so you might as well direct it somewhere in defense of him. 
“No extra guards.” You say one more time, just to be clear. “Afterall, this was a freak accident, it isn’t likely to happen again.” 
She nods one last time before making a hasty exit, leaving you alone with Din and Elaine.
When you turn to face them they’re both staring at you, looking a little surprised, you decide to break the silence, looking at Elaine.
“Now what?” 
“Now we wait.” 
“How long?” 
“We’ll know if he remembers in four days.” She crosses her arms and you look between her and Din for answers but he seems as confused as you are. “You have dinner with him in four days. Which I cannot stress enough, you will be attending. If you aren’t swarmed by guards in the next few days, you know you’re in the clear.” She finally says once it’s clear you aren’t getting it. “Until then I want both of you to stay here.” She opens up the door to your chambers. 
“For four straight days?” You try not to sound too irritated but you’re wildly angry with him right now and the idea of being stuck in your room for four uninterrupted days (an idea that you would usually kill for the opportunity to have.) makes your stomach churn. 
“For four straight days.” She’s already pushing the two of you in. Clearly eager to be rid of this entire situation. “No if’s, ands, or buts. You need to stay here, “healing” from the stress of tonight's events. I will have servants bring you your meals, Lysa and I will not disturb your rest but you can ring us if you require anything.”
Din is staring at Elaine, you can see the tension in his posture. He knows that you’re livid. And he knows that now that everything’s settled you couldn’t be more unhappy with him. 
The last thing he wants right now is to be trapped in a room with you and your wrath. 
Elaine clocks his hesitancy immediately. 
“You need to stay, you insisted on staying, she needs someone with her, and she needs protection. Just in case. Isn't that the whole reason you refused to leave in the first place?” She begins shutting the door, both of you starting to protest. “Four days, we will know if he knows in four days.” She whisper-yells before closing the door. 
Now it’s just you and Din. 
For four days. 
You want to fight. You want to scream at him now that you’re alone. How could he be so stupid? To not only hit Kodo, but to refuse to leave?
But you’re so tired. And afraid. You can be angry at him later.
Unless there isn’t a later.
No.
No thinking like that. 
Distract yourself.
“Let me see your hand.” You take his hand in yours with no resistance, removing his glove to inspect his knuckle. He knows better than to argue with you right now, especially since you haven’t blown up on him yet. 
He’s split two of his knuckles but he isn't actively bleeding anymore, you still need to clean it. You walk him to the bed, ushering him to sit down. Once he does, you go to the dresser, you grab a couple nightgowns, and the pitcher of water on the vanity before returning to him. 
He makes no attempt to protest as you dip one of the gowns into the pitcher before wiping the blood from his knuckles. 
He doesn’t protest when you tear the other gown with your teeth and wrap his hand. Or when you turn around, silently asking him to undo your dress, which he does as you slip out of it, standing there in your undergarments. 
He doesn’t fight you when you take his uninjured hand and walk him to the closet. 
He doesn’t when you carefully remove each piece of armor. Turning the lamp off and removing his helmet.  
Or when you say “We’ll talk in the morning.” and rest your head on his chest. 
“What if tonight is our last night?” He whispers into the darkness of the closet. 
You don’t want to think about that right now.
You’ll have tomorrow. 
Hopefully.
“It isn’t.” Is all you have to say. He still doesn’t argue. 
You fall asleep like that.
Day one isn’t going to be easy. 
You both know it. 
It’s fine as you both wake up, mostly because neither one of you speaks. 
He knows what’s coming. You can tell by the way his shoulders never relax, that he knows at some point today you’re going to snap. So he doesn’t speak, not wanting to accidentally cause your inevitable explosion.
And you don’t speak either, mostly because you know that when you do you’re going to get rather upset. So you just lay there. Every so often you feel him place a kiss on your temple. 
You wait as long as possible, until you hear a faint knocking from the main door and you know it's either Kodo, here to sentence your Mandalorian to death, or it’s breakfast.
Thankfully when you answer the door it’s breakfast. 
An older woman you don’t recognize hands you two plates of eggs, bread, and fruit. You give her a smile and a thanks. 
She gives you a curious look, like she’s trying to gauge your mood. Elaine must have already started spreading her rumors. You leave her with a nod of dismissal, locking the door once more. 
You carefully bring the plates to the closet, handing one to Din, still not saying a word as you turn to face away from him, flipping the light switch back on.
The two of you eat in silence. 
Once the helmet is back on you take the plates out to the main room, opening the door to leave them in the hall. 
When you turn around he’s standing in the closet doorway and you know you can’t put this off any longer.
“You can still leave.” When the words finally leave your lips they’re significantly less angry than you thought they’d be.
“You know I can’t.” Once he says that though you manage to find your anger relatively fast.
“You can and you know it.”
He doesn’t respond. He just stands, staring at you. 
“You have to go. It’s stupid to stay, if he remembers when he wakes up you need to be gone.”
“And if he doesn’t remember? Then you’d be here, unprotected, and alone.” There’s no heat behind his voice. He isn’t fighting, he’s just stating a fact. 
It doesn’t change your mind. 
“That doesn’t matter, no when there’s a chance that he does remember.” You take an angry step towards him but he doesn’t so much as flinch. 
“No.” Clearly you aren’t changing his mind either. 
You want to throw something at him. 
“You can’t stay here. You know what happens if you stay here. You need to leave, you can always come back for me.” You leave out the fact that that would be extremely difficult to do. “You need to go, hop on a ship and get out of here.” You’re getting angrier and angrier as you stare into the unforgiving steel of his helmet.
“I’m not leaving you.” There’s still no fight, he’s simply stating the truth.
“You are, you will. You need to. I will not just sit here and wait for you to be taken and slaughtered.” Your voice cracks on the last word, you’re starting to get to the level of anger where you’re at risk of crying, you’re desperately trying to keep yourself in control of your emotions as he holds his arms open for you.
It doesn’t matter if you’re in a rage, you can’t help yourself. 
You step into his embrace, still visibly fuming.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, lifting you up, his hands rest on your ass to support you and you have to wrap your legs around his waist to keep your balance, he walks you into the closet.
“But you’re not, Din, and that’s the problem.” You aren’t done, you’ve barely gotten started but he seems to have found a rather effective way of dissolving your anger as he kicks the closet door shut with his foot. 
“I’m sorry that I’m not sorry then.” He sets you down into the blankets and wastes no time flicking the lamp off. You don’t even hear the airlock, his mouth is just immediately on you, silencing any further protest you might have with his lips. “Just let me know when you want to stop so we can start fighting again.” He whispers against your bottom lip before his mouth quickly moves downward, leaving a trail of bites and kisses, his finger unbuttoning the front of your nightie as he does so.
“This- this isn’t fair, I’ve barely started.” You gasp as his mouth latches onto your nipple, he pulls away just long enough to respond.
“Then tell me to stop.” 
You don’t. 
Afterall you’re only human, and he’s being very persuasive right now. 
You’ll yell at him after.
Except there isn’t an after. 
He’s dangerously attentive for the next several hours. 
It’s like he’s been waiting to unleash this level of his undivided attention onto you, like he knew to save it for when you got truly angry with him. 
His fingers dip past the band of your underwear, dipping into your cunt just enough to make his fingertips slick as he drags them back up to your clit. Rubbing slow, methodic shapes into your bundle of nerves. 
He keeps his mouth on your chest for the most part. 
Except for when you get restless. Every so often you’ll remember your objective. Or you’ll feel a flicker of your rage spark up and you’ll mumble something angry at him halfheartedly, usually with your head tilted back, and your hands tangled in either the sheets or his hair. When that happens his mouth drifts down, he throws your legs over his shoulders and he wraps his lips around your clit until you forget all about whatever it was you were saying. 
He manages to keep you distracted until there’s another knock at the door that tells you it’s already lunch time. 
You struggle to button yourself back up as he fumbles for the lamp. 
You glare at him once the lights, and his helmet are back on. 
He quickly buttons your gown back up for you. He never even took his armor off. 
You rush to the door, greeting a woman younger than the one from before. Her eyes immediately dart to your expression.
Elaine was right, gossip does move fast here.
It’s a good thing you still look pissed off, and upset mostly with yourself for being so easily seduced. You can tell she takes note of your frown.  
She hands you two wrapped sandwiches and a pitcher of juice before scurrying off. You yell a half hearted thank you after her before locking up once more. 
When you return to Din you’re still frowning, tossing him the sandwich, turning around, and eating in silence. When you’re finished he takes your wrapper and stands, walking into the main room to discard them. 
When you join him he hands you a glass of juice. Nodding, you take it from him, gulping most of it down before setting the glass aside. 
��You know what?” It isn’t hard to find that fire in you immediately when you think about how truly stupid he’s still being right now. 
“What?” You close your eyes as he lifts his helmet to drink, opening them when you hear the airlock, poking a finger into his chest. 
“You should have left when Elaine told you to, and we shouldn’t even be having this argument because you should be somewhere far far away right now.” 
“This isn’t really an argument, it’s mostly just you yelling and me nodding.” 
Smartass. 
“You just made this an argument by contradicting me.” You’re starting to sound petulant but you really are still upset as you shove him, unable to bring yourself to put much effort into it but he takes a deliberate step back and you cry out in frustration. “You’re an idiot. You are a stupid, stupid man.”
It’s starting to bother you that he won’t fight back. Like he knows you’re right, he just doesn’t care.
You shove him again. This time he doesn’t move in the slightest. 
“You never should have hit him in the first place Din! Are you insane? Do you have a death wish?” You’re nearly screaming at this point.
Yet he says nothing.
So you keep going.
“You say that you have to stay here to protect me, but why didn’t you think about that before you knocked my husband flat on his ass?” That finally gets a reaction from him. His helmet tilts the tiniest bit to the side, almost like he’s flexing his jaw.
“Don’t call him that.” He sounds mad for the first time today.. 
“What? My husband? I’m sorry Din but that’s what he is, it’s nothing more than a title, you know th-“
“No. Don’t call him yours. He isn’t yours, he isn’t your anything, For Makers sake just call him Kodo.” He’s practically snarling as he says it but it only feeds your flames.
“That’s what you’re upset about? Really? Your life's on the line here, and that’s what makes you upset?” You’re close enough to him now that you can see your own rage being reflected back at you on his helmet. 
“If you're so convinced that these are my last hours alive then why are we spending them fighting?” He’s already getting less angry. 
“Because they don’t have to be your last hours!” You’re getting more frustrated by the second, your voice getting higher and higher. “You could leave like anyone with a brain in this situation would.” 
“I’m not leaving you.” 
That’s all he has to say for himself. 
He doesn’t care. 
“Fine.” Your scowl never falters.
“Fine?” He sounds shocked that you’re already giving up.
“Fine.” You shoot him a furious look before you grab the front of his cowl and drag him back into the closet, slamming the door shut behind the both of you because you are sick and tired of him not caring that his life is in extreme danger and if he’s not going to argue with you then he might as well fuck you. 
“Why can’t you just be angry?” You yell as you start unbuttoning your nightgown all over again while he begins removing his armor. 
“Because you’re right.” He mumbles, struggling to keep up with your speed as you let the nightie fall to the floor, leaving you in only your panties. 
“You’re insufferable.” You snarl, laying down in the blankets, watching him toss his cowl aside.
“And you’re insatiable.” He slides the last of his armor off before kneeling in front of you in just his flight suit and helmet. “How many times did I make you cum today before noon? And you still want more.” He doesn’t even sound like he’s trying to get a rise out of you, he sounds like he did when he said he was going to stay, like he was just stating a fact. 
“I don’t want to look at you right now. I’m still mad at you.” You grumble, he wastes no time wrapping his arms around your torso, flipping you onto your stomach.
“This better?” He sounds unbothered. It makes you angrier that he refuses to justify his actions beyond simply wanting to stay.  
“Perfect.” You mumble. 
“You’re being a brat.” 
“And you’re being an idiot.” 
“I thought we weren’t going to fight, why did you bring us in here to just fight more?” He tugs down your panties with one hand, you turn to see him palming himself with the other. 
“Let’s just- let's not talk.” You grumble sitting up on your knees, his hand slides up your spine to the nape of your neck, pushing your face into a pillow while simultaneously forcing your ass into the air.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” You hear the release of his helmet and a thunk of metal as he tosses it aside.
He doesn’t bother turning the lamp off.
You hear the familiar sound of his zipper, he doesn’t waste any time as you feel the head of his cock push into you. You bite into the pillow swallowing your moan. 
Are you still mad?
Yes. Very much so.
Is this better than fighting? 
Yes. (Very much so.)
He leans down, groaning as his chest is flush with your back, his length sinking deeper into your heat. 
“Reach back and push me away if you want me to stop.” He brushes your hair behind your ear as he says it, you only nod in response as he leans back again, rocking his hips forward until his pelvis is flush with your ass. 
He’s never fucked you from this angle.
Your slightly lower than he is, it’s like he’s fucking down into you, deeper than he has previously.
He takes a second to let you breath before he snaps his hips back, dragging his cock nearly completely out of you before slamming himself back in entirely. 
You yelp as he presses up against your cervix. 
He waits again, like he’s waiting to see if you’re okay but you make no effort to stop him so after another second he repeats the motion, letting out a low groan as he does.
He squeezes your hips almost reassuringly as he starts to find his rhythm. Feeling him sink into you, every thrust almost painfully deep.
It’s nice.
Of course you won’t tell him that, not now when you’re still seething.
But it’s like he’s doing it on purpose. Like he’s trying to prove a point. That no matter how mad you are, he can still unravel you, with ease.
His hands slide up your back, he takes hold of your shoulders, experimentally using his grip to leverage you back against him in time with his thrusts. 
It’s (tragically) divine. 
You pull your face from the pillow, turning your head to the side. 
“When- kriff, when you’re done we’re finishing our, ah, our conversation.” You manage to stutter out, his pace never so much as skipping a beat.
“I thought… we were… done… with that.” He says through grit teeth in between thrusts, pulling you back against him with every movement forcing himself deeper into you than you even thought possible.
“We aren’t.” 
He only grunts in acknowledgement as you feel him lean down to place a kiss against your spine. 
You shouldn’t have told him that once he finished you were going to fight again because he doesn't stop until they knock for dinner.
The bastard actually manages to last the entire time, everytime you think he’s finally going to lose his resolve he buries himself in you, unmoving, letting his hands roam your body aimlessly until he’s able to continue. When he hears the knocking his pace quickens the tiniest bit and that’s all he needs to tumble over the edge. Pulling out and finishing on your lower back. 
You’d be more upset if you weren’t so impressed. 
You make yourself as presentable as possible before rushing to the door for what is hopefully the last time today.
It’s the same routine.
Greet them, they stare at you, you take the food, they leave. 
Once you’re locked up for the night you hand him his bowl of stew. 
It continues to be the same routine. Eating in silence as he waits for the inevitable. 
Except it doesn’t come.
You finish eating, turning around once he’s done as well. He takes the bowls, setting them aside. 
And you open your mouth to yell at him. But all that comes out is a yawn, once he sees that he scoops you up into his arms, already carrying you back to the closet. You let your head rest on his shoulder.
“I’m still mad.” You mumble. 
“You should be.” He says it so quietly the modulator doesn’t even pick it up, you hear the words muffled and unfiltered through his helmet. 
You don’t like that he’s seemingly mad at himself. He doesn’t get to do that, no one gets to be mad at him right now but you. 
He lays you down in the sheets, kneeling next to you he removes his helmet as you close your eyes he turns the lights out, laying down beside you. 
“No more sex. I’m too tired.” All you’ve done today is yell, have sex and eat, the combination has you dozing off already. You roll over so you’re partially on top of him as you rest the side of your face on his chest which you feel shake a bit as he lets out a single laugh.
“Okay, sarad.” 
How did you lose an entire day to him? You had wanted to scream and throw things. To show him and to tell him that what he was doing wasn’t okay. Instead he’d spent the entire day distracting you and it worked. 
You take in the silence of the room, listening only to his breathing for a moment. 
He’s okay. You suppose that’s what matters. He’s still here, and maybe for right now that’s okay. You clearly aren’t going to get anywhere as far as yelling at him goes because he agrees with you. He just doesn’t care. And for the time being you’re just going to have to live with that.
“I don’t want you to go to sleep angry.” He says into the darkness of the room, startling you a little. 
“Why does that matter?” You wish you could sound more stern but you’re tired, and clearly he is too.
“If this is our last night I don’t want you to be upset with me.” 
Oh, Din.
“It isn’t. So it doesn’t matter.” You try to say it with a finality that will hopefully end the conversation.
“It might be.”
“Good night Din.”
The start of your second day is considerably different than your first day. 
You feel a little less stressed now that a day has passed with no word but he seems to be getting more nervous. And you feel less cross today. It’s hard to stay angry when you wake up in his arms. He’s spooning you when you wake, and how can you be mad at that?
“I love you, I’m sorry, I just- I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.” He murmurs into your hair before leaning down to kiss your neck. It takes you by surprise, you're still waking up but he already seems shockingly coherent. 
He says it like he’s worried it’s the last conversation you’ll ever have with him.
It makes your anger fizzle out, replaced with sympathy for him.
“Then I’m not mad anymore.” He breathes out a sigh of relief when you say it, his arms tighten around you. 
If this really is your last day with him you don’t want to spend it mad. 
You wish you hadn’t spent yesterday mad at him in hindsight, you have no way of knowing if this is the end or not. 
“I love you.” He whispers into the crook of your neck, he kisses your throat. “I love you.” He keeps breathing those words against your skin between kisses as you arch your back against him in an attempt to get more.
You don’t say it back. 
Your love for each other is what got you into this stupid mess to begin with. 
That doesn’t stop him though. 
He repeats it, over and over and over, slowly and sleepily. Like a prayer. 
“Let’s just do this today, okay? No fighting.” He’s got one hand resting on your stomach, the other gently cups your breast. He shifts himself so he can slide his leg between yours. 
Can’t argue with that. 
“We did this yesterday.” You breathe out, it feels good to smile.
“Yes, but you were angry, today there will be no fighting.” He bites your neck lightly enough that there won’t be a mark but hard enough to earn a small squeak from you. 
“No fighting.” You echo his words as he pulls you flush against him. 
When it’s dark like this it feels like he’s the only thing in the universe. The only thing keeping you grounded. 
The hand on your stomach moves downwards and you feel his hot breath on your neck.
“Please?” he mumbles before nipping at your shoulder.
“Of course.” The moment he has your permission he guides his hand to your center, lifting your thigh and sliding his cock up against your folds in one fluid motion. Once he’s situated he brings his hand up to your mouth, two fingers tapping on your bottom lip as you instinctually open your mouth for him he rocks his hips forwards with a grunt, you feel him sliding through your folds as his fingers swipe across your tongue. 
He hums softly, his lips stay on your shoulder, alternating between sucking and biting as he slow fucks the space between your thighs. 
Once he’s satisfied with the wetness of his fingers he withdrawals them from your mouth, bringing them back between your legs. 
“I’m sorry, sarad, for everything.” He says under his breath. 
“No more apologizing.” You lean back to whisper it in his ear.
“What?” He sounds a little lost in his actions.
“I know you’re sorry. I don’t want to hear it anymore. No more apologizing.”
“No more apologizing.” This time he echos you. He slowly and carefully starts rubbing his slick fingers against your clit while simultaneously sliding himself in and out of the space between your thighs. You experimentally squeeze your thighs together around his cock and he immediately bites down on your shoulder, stifling a moan. 
It’s so wildly intimate, an unspoken agreement that you both suddenly have to try and make the other person feel as good as possible.
He ruts between your soaked thighs, when he draws back you press your thighs together slightly to tighten around him. His free hand cups your breast again, leisurely pinching your nipple as the one between your legs manages to do exactly what it needs to do.
He knows you so well at this point it’s actually a little jarring when he’s able to drive you towards that release so quickly. 
“Cum with me?” He mumbles through his labored breaths as you nod frantically. 
He keeps you on the edge for a few more minutes as he rocks his hips back and forth until both his thrusts and his fingers move faster, you let your head fall back against his shoulder as you feel the wire snap within you, he turns his face to press his forehead into your temple as he snarls, you feel the spurt of warmth between your thighs as he cums. 
You both lay there briefly, gasping for air, just as you finally get your bearings you hear a knock.
“Shit.” You mumble, wiping yourself off on the sheets and readjusting your nightgown as you sit up. 
You stumble to your feet, rushing to the door to get what you assume is breakfast, you’re surprised to see Elaine standing there holding a basket of bread, rushing into the room before you can even greet her. 
“Good news and bad news.” She immediately hands you the basket and you set it down. Din steps out of the closet, already fully dressed, a sharp juxtaposition to how you must look, disheveled in your nightie you haven’t changed in several days. 
“Good news first.” You say quickly.
“Good news is that word has spread as quickly as I anticipated. From what I can tell, the people in the city are already aware of what happened.”
“That fast?” You’re in disbelief at the idea that people already know. 
“I told you it would.” She’s grinning ear to ear, clearly proud of herself. 
“What’s the bad news?” Din Djarin, well known optimist, finally speaks up.
“Kodo’s awake as of an hour ago.” Her grin is gone in an instant.
As far as bad news goes, that's about as bad as it gets. 
Neither you, nor Din speaks. 
So Elaine does.
“I haven’t heard anything yet but if he remembered we wouldn’t be standing here right now.”
“Or he’s waiting.” Still being optimistic, aren’t you, Din?
“He wouldn’t wait, he doesn’t have the patience.” You look to Elaine for confirmation and she nods, relief washes over you.
“Or he wants to make a spectacle out of it.” You’re getting sick of his attitude towards this already.
“No fighting today.” You snap at him and he immediately goes quiet so you turn back to Elaine. “Is that all?”
“Yes, I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.” She begins to make a hasty exit but you call her name again.
“Wait, could you please draw me a bath?” That seems like the logical next step considering you probably reek of sex at this point. 
“Of course, my lady.” She closes the door behind her and you turn to Din.
“No fighting, we agreed.” You say one more time, to be sure he knows you’re serious about this. 
He nods and you leave him standing there, going to the dresser to find a robe.
“I’ll be standing outside to make sure no one disturbs you, princess.” Elaine raises her eyebrows as she says it, closing the door behind you as you turn to stare at the Mandalorian across from you in the fresher.
If you and Din aren’t imprisoned in the next couple of days you’re going to make sure Elaine gets a pay raise. 
You slip your robe off as Din slides a table in front of the door for extra security, and you step into the warmth of the water, staring up at him as he walks over to the pool.
“I had a dream like this once.” He says as he carefully takes his armor off. 
That’s the last thing you could have imagined him saying right now. You chew on your lip, giddy as you fight the smile threatening to spread across your face.
“Do you have a lot of dreams about me?” You hold back your laughter as he takes the last piece of metal that isn’t his helmet off. Fascinated as he starts to tug at his flight suit.
You’ve never actually seen him like this. 
Sure you’ve seen his hands, and his cock, but never as much bare skin as he’s about to reveal. He peels the fabric away from his body as he steps out of it.
Maybe yesterday was your last day. 
You aren’t totally convinced that you didn’t die yesterday and are currently in heaven. 
He steps into water, only in his helmet and you try not to gawk but it’s hard because he’s just so… pretty. 
You finally tear your eyes away when you see a tint of red flare up around his neck.
He’s embarrassed. 
He shouldn’t be.
He’s an adonis. 
Tan skin littered with little pink and white marks.
You want to kiss every single one. 
He makes his way across the water, sitting on one of the ledges so everything below his chest is submerged. You try not to make your way over to him too eagerly but you can’t help yourself as you hastily pull yourself into his lap. 
“Aren’t you worried about rust?” You tilt your head to the side, laughing a little. 
“Beskar doesn’t rust but you’re very cute.” His hands squeeze your thighs under the water. 
“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes and lean forward to rest your head on his shoulder. “You didn’t answer my question by the way, about your dreams.” 
His hands slide under your thighs, dragging you closer to him.
“What do you want to know about my dreams?” 
“I want you to tell me about your dream that reminded you of this.” You run your pinky across a small pink crescent shaped scar on his chest. 
“That might take a while, why don’t I just show you.” You can practically hear his grin.
For a brief moment you’re almost able to forget the situation you’re currently in. 
Almost. 
“You knew I was out there, you could have at least tried to be quiet.” Elaine grumbles as you open the door.
Whoops. 
“Sorry.” You both mutter in sync, your face is getting hot as you give her an apologetic grin.
She’s definitely getting a raise. 
“I’ll get over it.” She walks you back to your chambers holding the door open for the both of you. “Someone will bring you lunch and dinner later, I’ll see you both soon.” 
“Thank you.” You call out after her as she’s inching her way out of the room.
“You're welcome.” She shoots you one last smile before stepping out completely. 
Once the door is closed behind you you rush over to it, clicking the locks before dropping the robe, when you turn around he’s already setting his armor aside. 
You leave him to that briefly as you walk yourself to the closet, returning to him with a scarf, all of his armor aside from his helmet is already off, he’s currently unzipping his flight suit. 
You do exactly what you said you would.
No fighting. No apologies. 
He helps you tie the scarf around your eyes and from that point on it’s a hazy, lascivious daydream. You’d be understating it if you said he fucked you on every surface in your room. It’s a desperate love that he makes to you now, and you know better than anyone that it’s his fear creeping back up, that this time will be the last time. 
Floor, bed, wall, table, dresser. If it is a flat surface, at some point during the day he presses you up against it, alternating between burying his tongue and his cock in your weeping cunt. 
You’re so fucked out of your mind that when they knock for meals you just ignore it. Biting down on a pillow or his shoulder to silence the noises he forces out of you. 
You don’t really remember when he brought you back to the closet. It’s been such a whirlwind. 
You do remember him kissing you. And saying he loved you before you fell asleep.
You try to forget when he whispered a prayer that he would have more days with you. 
And you make it to day three. 
Every hour there isn’t a battalion of guards outside your door makes you relax more and more. 
Din seems to be the exact opposite of you based on the first thing he says when you wake. 
“I want you to look today.”
“At what?”
“You know what.”
Oh. 
You sit up. Staring at where he would be in the darkness. 
“I’m not doing that.”
“Why?”
“Because this isn’t our last day, and you need to stop acting like it is.” 
If Kodo remembered he wouldn’t wait, he isn’t a patient man. You don’t want to spend today worrying, and you don’t want him to either. 
So today you’ll talk. You’ll talk until he forgets all about it. 
You lay back down, pulling his head into the crook of your neck.
“Tell me a secret.” 
“What kind of secret?” He laughs a little. Good. You don’t want today to be sad.
“Something nobody knows about you.”
“I don’t have secrets from you. I tell you everything.” 
That’s actually quite sweet. 
“That’s just not true. You keep tons of secrets.” You scoff.
“Not anymore. If you asked me anything, I’d tell you.” He says it earnestly.
That can’t possibly be true. 
“There’s plenty of stuff you don’t tell me.” You twist a lock of his hair gently between your fingers.
“You never ask.”
This entire time you’d been trying not to push him, he’d just assumed you didn’t care. 
“Are you okay with me asking?” You never meant to make him feel neglected.
“I’d love if you asked.”
You don’t even know where to start. You want to know everything. 
So you start at the beginning. 
“Do you have any family?”
“I lost my mother and my father when I was very young.” He draws small distinct stars into your skin with his fingers as he talks. “I was taken in by the Mandalorians as a foundling.” He sounds detached as he says it, like he came to terms with it a long time ago, so you don’t linger on his tragedy, opting to point out a phrase you’re unfamiliar with instead.
“A foundling?”
“It means they raised me as their own, taught me the creed.” 
You picture a little Din Djarin running around with a dozen adoptive parents. 
“They all did?”
He laughs, giving your side a small pinch. 
“No, typically the Mandalorian who finds an abandoned child will claim them but the Mandalorian who found me already had two foundlings.” 
“That’s terrible, what did they do with you?” You feel yourself being pulled into his story, like he’s telling you a tale you don’t know the ending to. As if he isn’t here right now, a full fledged Mandalorian who things clearly worked out for. 
“There was a Mandalorian at the covert who had never had a foundling. She made their armor for them so she didn’t leave as often as the rest. She took me in.” 
“So she became your mother?”
“More like a big sister, she’s only a few years older than I am.”
“Did she make your armor?”
“She did, yes.”
You sit in silence briefly, taking in his story, something he said a while ago resurfaces in your mind. 
You had asked him about his boy's mother. 
“I don’t know, I don’t know who his father is either. Is that all you wanted to ask?” 
You sit up a little, pulling him closer. 
“Your boy is your foundling.” You don’t say it like a question, you’re sure of it. 
“Was, my foundling.” 
Your natural instinct is to not pry, but he wants you to ask, and you feel an anxious curiosity as he uses past tense to refer to his child. 
“Din, you don’t have to talk about it, but if you’re okay with it I’d love to know more about him.”
He doesn’t respond and you’re glad you gave him the option to opt out. 
“I haven’t talked about him since I lost him.” You lean down a little to kiss his forehead, he sounds so small, the smallest he’s ever sounded.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” You feel him curl his legs up a bit, tangling them between yours as he sighs. 
“Then I’ll listen.” 
“His name’s Grogu.” You let out a silent sigh of relief as he uses present tense to refer to the boy. 
“That’s a funny name.”
“He’s a funny kid.” There’s an adoration in his voice that he typically reserves just for you. It makes you long to meet this child that softens your Mandalorians demeanor. “He was only a baby when I found him, I knew right then and there that he was mine.”
“What’s he like?” You feel the corners of his mouth twitch up when you ask that. 
“Happy. He’s always happy, and smart, he’s so smart, just like you, too smart for his own good.” He absentmindedly brings his fingers up to play with your hair. “He’s a lot like you actually. Happy, smart, brave, funny.” He tugs your hair softly, teasingly. “You both love to irritate me.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m serious, you're very similar, I’d say you could be his mother but you look nothing alike.” He laughs at a joke you don’t seem to get. 
There’s one question you haven’t asked, the one you’ve been avoiding.
“What happened to him?”
“I let him go, to be with his people.” You have no idea what he means by that. 
“Sounds to me like you’re his people.” 
“I’m starting to believe that, the longer I spend away from him the more I wonder if I made the right choice.” He traces his fingers down the curve of your jaw.
“Why don’t you visit him?” 
He goes silent, bringing his hand back down to your waist, you feel his fingers tapping against your skin softly, almost like a nervous tick. 
“It’s a stupid reason.” He whispers. 
You run your hand across the length of his shoulder in a soothing manner. 
“Tell me.”
“I’m worried he’s  happy there. Happier than he was with me.”
Oh. Din.
You wish there was a way to tell him that he’s worthy of love. He just doesn’t seem to believe it’s possible.
Well, there is one obvious way to.
“I don’t think that’ll happen. And if he is happy there it just means you did your job. You took care of him.” Once you say that you feel a weight lifted off of your torso as he sits up. 
For a moment nothing happens. 
In the darkness you aren’t even sure where he is, at least until his hands cradle your face ever so gently.
“You’re perfect.”
He’s perfect. 
“I love you.” It slips past your lips in a soft whisper before you can stop yourself. 
“Hmm?” He hums gently. Leaning forward to give you a chaste kiss before pulling back. “What did you say?”
“Very funny. I’m not saying it again.” 
“I’m serious. I didn’t hear you.”
Strange.
He isn’t lying. You can tell.
And this isn’t the first time this has happened. 
“You can’t hear well can you?” You reach up to put a hand on his face, you can feel his mouth turned up in a grin. 
“Smart girl.” He turns his head to kiss your palm.
You won’t repeat yourself. You’ll save it for another time.
“How long?”
“Decades. One of my first bounties. I was listening in from a distance, had the audio on my helmet all the way up, I didn’t realize one of his friends was flanking me until the grenade landed at my feet.”
“Maker.” You gasp. 
“It isn’t really a big deal, I can hear perfectly fine with my helmet and the only person I ever talk to without my helmet on is you.”
Fair point. 
“Aren’t you worried it might happen again?”
“No, I have sensors now that will silence any sound that might be damaging. My turn to ask a question.” He stays sitting across from you, your legs still tangled together as he quickly changes the subject.. “I’ve been dying to ask, why do you sleep in the closet?” 
There’s no hesitation in your answer.
“My room is too big.” 
He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.
“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh.
And that’s how you spend the third day.
Laughing and talking. 
And when you go to sleep that night, he doesn’t bring up the fact that it could be your last night together. 
But you know you’re both thinking it.
Today there is nothing. 
You can’t comfort him anymore because last night very well could have been your last night together. If Kodo knows, you won’t spend tonight with Din.
You won’t ever spend another night with Din.
There’s no way he knows though. (Unless he does.)
You both seem to realize that, in the comfortable silence you find yourselves in. He’s awake as well but neither of you speaks. 
Today you don’t fight, or fuck, or talk. Today you just exist together. He lays with his head on your chest and you absentmindedly play with his hair.
You both ignore the knocking.
If it's guards, they’ll come in anyways, if it’s breakfast, they’ll leave it outside the door. Based on the lack of guards over the course of the next few minutes, you discern that it’s breakfast. You do the same when they knock for lunch. 
You don’t get up until his stomach grumbles. You rush out quickly before returning to find him in the same position in the darkness as you crawl to him, handing him his plate. You rest your head on his shoulder, listening to him eat and opening your mouth when he offers you some. 
And you don’t speak. 
You don’t say a word. 
A few hours before dinner the girls come to dress you, you bring a blue dress out of the closet when they arrive. 
You’re pretty sure Lysa is aware of the entire situation you find yourself in as she avoids the closet like the plague. Dressing you faster than ever before, in complete silence. When they’re done Lysa rushes out, Elaine lingering as she gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 
“You can do this. After tonight, you’re in the clear.” As she speaks you put your hand over hers, nodding and smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror. 
You can do this. 
She gives your shoulder one last pat before darting out of the room. Once she’s gone, like clockwork, Din steps into the main room. He quickly makes his way over to you, pulling you into an embrace.
And still neither of you says so much as a word. 
He walks next to you as you make your way to the dining room, letting the back of his hand brush against yours. 
When you approach the doors, as usual the hall is devoid of guards, he faces you.
“I love you.” 
You only nod in response, standing on your tiptoes you lean up and press a kiss into the steel cheek of his helmet before opening the doors to the dining hall. 
He’s waiting for you. He doesn’t usually look when you walk in but tonight he does. 
“Wife, I’m honored that you’re joining me tonight.” You never thought you’d miss the high pitched, nasally way he called out to you until you heard him speaking in a soft and grave tone. 
“Good evening, husband.” You bow before you sit, your Mandalorian standing no more than a foot behind you the entire time. 
It’s a deadly quiet dinner. 
That can’t possibly be a good sign, Kodo loves the sound of his own voice and you’re rarely in a room with him where you don’t hear it. Especially not a room this quiet. 
It’s nothing but the sounds of scraping forks against plates and glasses being set down. 
You aren’t entirely sure what his plan is until they take dinner away and you’re left with nothing but your wine glass in front of you.
Kodo’s is full of water. 
You flinch when he clears his throat before speaking. 
“I was told something odd when I woke up after my accident.”
This is it. 
You’re dead.
Din’s dead. 
You should have just risked it and left with him days ago. 
“People believe that I tried to hurt you, that I was injured when I drunkenly slipped.” His voice is full of a dangerous, malice as he traces the rim of his glass with his finger. 
You should tell Din that you love him before they drag him away. He deserves to hear it. 
Or would that make things worse for him?
Would they hurt him more if they knew?
Dank farrik, you should have repeated yourself when you said it. Now he might never know how you feel. 
“I don’t know why anyone would possibly think that.” He tilts his glass to the side, watching the water shift back and forth. “Because that isn’t what happened, right, wife?” 
Din was right. 
At least you spent your last night happy. If you’re executed you’ll think of his laughter before you go. 
“Right? Wife?” He says it much louder now, his fist comes down to meet the table and you jump a bit in your chair. 
There’s no escape. Not if he remembers. There isn’t anything anymore. Just you and just Din. 
There’s a lump in your throat as you give him a single small nod. Out of the corner of your eye you see Din take the smallest step towards you but he doesn’t do anything drastic as Kodo leans back in his chair. 
“Good. Then you shall tell the common folk you visit what really happened, that a bored servant made that story up, it never happened and you are more than happy here.” He takes a sip of his water and you stare at him, baffled. 
Maker. 
He doesn’t remember. 
He. Doesn’t. Remember.
He believes the story.
He just wants you to tell people it didn’t happen because it affects his image. 
You’re so relieved you could cry, as you nod, holding back a smile. 
“Of course.” Your voice cracks but you can’t find it in you to care. “Of course, dear husband, I will tell them that it was just a misunderstanding, that the entire story is a lie.” Your knee bounces under the table as you resist the urge to look at Din.
Kodo nods towards the door.
“Then it’s settled. You’re dismissed.”
That’s it?
Holy shit, that’s it.
You have to stop yourself from sprinting out the door as you bow before taking slow steps out. 
In the hallway you glance at Din, staring into the visor with wide eyes before heading towards your chambers.
You don’t dare say a word on the walk back to your room, neither does he. 
You did it. 
You’re worried you're dreaming but you know for certain that you aren’t.
You actually fucking did it.
Din is fine, and he’s going to remain fine. 
It feels too good to be true and you just want to pull him into a hug and squeal like a kid on christmas. 
The walk feels like it takes ages as you make your way through the halls until finally you’re there. He opens the door for you as you step inside he shuts it behind you both. You turn towards him ready to just about scream with glee but he beats you to it, scooping you up into his arms and spinning you around. 
When he sets you down he doesn’t even think about it as you feel the cool rush of air against your face, he lifts his helmet off nearly all the way with one hand, the other hand wraps around your waist he pulls you close, kissing your forehead before dragging his nose down your face like he’s using it to guide his way before pressing his lips to yours. You manage to shut your eyes before he pulls it off completely. 
He laughs, leaning in to kiss you again.
“You’re the only person I’ve met who wouldn’t look, you know that right?” He mumbles into the kiss before pulling back.
“That’s why I can’t look,” You open your eyes as you hear the airlock once more. “You make exceptions for me and I don’t want you to regret it.”
“I won’t regret it.”
“You might. So we’ll wait.” You play with the band that goes across the chest as he holds you close with his arm around your waist. 
“How long?” He sounds downright excited. 
“When I know you won’t regret it.”
“How exactly are you going to measure that? I’ve already decided I’m ready.” 
You know exactly when you’d be willing to look.
You would look if you were married to him.
But you won’t tell him that, solely because you don’t want him to want to marry you just so you’ll look, you want him to want it. And you haven’t even talked about marriage with him, besides your “jokes,” which definietly don’t count.
“I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”
You just stare at each other, you’re grinning at him and you’re certain he’s grinning right back at you. 
“We really did it. We’re okay.” You whisper as he nods. 
“You did it, I caused it.” 
“No more fighting. This is a happy night.” 
“Fine, if tonight's happy night then I have a surprise for you.” He makes his way to the closet as he says it, disappearing for a second before returning with a pair of pants and a cotton tunic, handing them to you. “Put these on.” 
“How could you possibly have a surprise, we’ve been in this room for days and up until a few minutes ago we didn’t know if you were going to be imprisoned for treason.” You take the clothes, turning around so he can unlace your gown, which he swiftly does. 
“I planned this surprise ages ago, I was just saving it for a special occasion.” He pulls each ribbon free and you let the dress slide off of you, stepping into the pants. 
“So what kind of surprise are we dealing with here?” You turn back towards him as you pull the shirt over your head. 
“The kind I know you’re going to love.”
“How can you be sure?” 
“Because you’ve been waiting for it.” 
He gets down on his knee in front of you, you inhale so sharply you nearly stumble backwards as he stares up at you.
This can’t be happening. There’s no way, you haven’t talked this over enough yet.
You should start considering the fact that he might be a genuine mind reader.
“Sarad’ika…” His helmet is tilted up at you, your heart is racing. 
Yes. 
You’re going to say yes.
You’re holding your breath, waiting for him to continue.
But he doesn’t.
Instead he reaches under your bed and pulls out a bundle of black fabric that you furrow your brows at. He stands and hands it to you, you hear him stifle a laugh.  
“Why are you looking at me like that, sarad, I was just getting this for you.” You shove him as he says it, your face getting hot.
“You’re an idiot.” You grumble, unfolding the fabric you see it’s a half cloak, there’s a veil over the hood that will completely conceal your face. 
“Oh, did you think I was going to- oh wow, princess.” He puts on an act of shock as you pull the cloak on, thankful that he can’t see the embarrassment on your face. 
“That wasn't funny.” 
“So you’re the only one allowed to make jokes?”
“If all your jokes are going to be like that then yes.” 
In all honesty, you aren’t upset in the slightest.
Because he’s alive and unharmed and capable of making jokes.
You couldn’t possibly ask for more right now.
“I’m sorry, maybe the surprise will make you forgive me. And make sure you thank Elaine at some point for that, she made it for you.” He chuckles, pointing at the cloak. “Come on, let’s go, we’ll have to stop at the cabin before we head into the city.” He takes your hand.
You forget all about his little stunt when you hear that, and your face lights up with excitement as you realize there’s only one place he could possibly be taking you if you’re going into the city past sundown.
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