#his whimper when he pulls away and starts to cry? on repeat tbh

[ken-dom]

∘₊✧ Lars & Bianca's first and last kiss — Lars collection 6/?

[no-droids]

Kar’taylir

gif credit @sersi​

Part Thirteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.8K

Warnings: language, angst and fluff, descriptions of a dead body, no real smut in this one but there is some nudity and touching, uhhh i think thats it tbh

A/N: Omg hi hi hello this was written in a week and a half so please be gentle, also I’m back on my linguistics bullshit and I can absolutely guarantee a vast majority of it is inaccurate

***

Everybody is asleep and you’re just a complete mess.

Truly.  And it fucking sucks, because this should be enjoyable.  This is home.  You’re in hyperspace, the hull is pitch black, the baby is asleep, and Din’s breathing is slow and quiet through the darkness.  Your cheek presses to his chest as it rises and falls hypnotically, you’re comfortable and safe and this would normally be a dream.  But your eyes are wide open right now and you are just going through it.  Spiraling in the midst of the most stable surroundings you could possibly conceive.

You suppose that this is partially your fault.  You don’t know why literally any part of you expected Din would explain himself without prompting from you, but you still couldn’t work up nearly the nerve necessary to ask.  Every potential question you came up with contradicted your intent, every way you tried to mentally phrase it gave off the wrong impression.  How do you ask somebody if they were being serious about something without revealing anything about your own intentions?  You can’t—that’s a downside of staying silent.

Din hasn’t said a single word since he urged you to leave the shooting range earlier, and he didn’t really seem like the quiet didn’t suit him, if that makes sense.  Yours was awkward, it fit you wrong.  You struggled for words while he easily ignored their existence altogether, able to navigate the Crest into hyperspace and exist comfortably around you without ever addressing the giant bantha in the room.  Maybe that’s part of the reason you floundered so hard—he didn’t avoid you, he held the kid while you took a shower in the small fresher, and even though he was quieter around you than he’d been in awhile, he gave no indication that anything was wrong at all.

You spent that time getting clean but also formulating some sort of plan.  As you bathed in actual water for the first time in a week and scrubbed your body clean, you tried to figure out at least why you were having so much trouble coming up with something to say, but even then, words evaded you.  You spent the entire time staring blankly at the metal wall, at a complete fucking loss.

When you came out of the fresher with wet hair and comfortable clothing to sleep in, Din was armorless and resting in your makeshift bed on the floor, the baby tucked soundly in his crib next to him.  You turned off the lights and carefully found your way under the blankets next to him in the pitch blackness, feeling him lazily reach around you and pull you to rest against his chest.  His fingers gently drew circles along your arm for maybe the first few minutes while you worked up the nerve to speak.  You needed to say something, this was your chance—

But then his hand soon fell to rest in one place on your shoulder and he passed out.  Helmet on, not even a few minutes of your quiet breathing next to him.

So now, you’re here, just… a little ball of stress in the middle of paradise.  Hours have passed, you need sleep after such a physically exhausting week but it’s like you haven’t even processed the fucking proposition he presented to you yet.  You’re having trouble even thinking the words, that’s how much he’s got you fucked up.

He said… hit the target and I’ll ma…. hit the target and I’ll marrrrr…

Fuck.  You stay on that loop for ages until your eyes begin to grow heavy, until you just settle on thinking about it with them closed.  Slow breaths from Din under one ear, the silence of hyperspace all around you—how are you supposed to contemplate when his body is so warm?  No, you can ask tomorrow, you’ll ask him tomorrow.

Eventually, you’re able to drift off into a troubled slumber, dreaming of bells made of beskar that deafen anyone who rings them.

***

You wake up what feels like two minutes later.

It’s not, but you don’t know that.  You’re so warm and the second your eyes open, they start stinging and burning and tearing up like your body just wants to cry for even being awake right now.  You finally got to sleep—you moan pitifully and start to turn your head further into the warm blankets, but then a gloved hand smooths your hair back and a voice whispers quiet through the darkness.

“I have to go.”

And oh, his touch is just the gentlest thing, but what he says makes your already fragile mental state want to shatter.  The first words he gives you in hours and they’re the ones you loathe to hear the most.

“W-Wha?  No,” you whimper and automatically reach for him, your throat starting to close up.  Maker, you’re so tired, you’re so tired, you feel so fucking emotional and vulnerable right now and you’re not even awake enough to realize it.  “Why?”

Din just catches your hands and brings both of them together in front of him, slowly pressing your knuckles to the cold beskar on the face of his helmet.

“I meet with Karga in three days,” he murmurs back, voice pillow-soft and barely loud enough to come through the steel under your fingers.  It’s gentle and lulling and it makes you want to sleep again, but you can’t and you feel like you could burst into tears for that reason alone.  “He gave me four pucks, I need four bodies.”

You can’t argue with it, the logic is perfectly sound.  But you still want to, and everything inside you revolts at the thought of allowing him leave like this without fighting for more.  Which means you have absolutely nothing reasonable or compelling to say to appeal to him; all you’re left with the glaring truth.

“But I don’t want you to leave,” you whisper, tightening your fingers.

And, perhaps if you were even half-conscious, you’d wince.  You’d cringe at the shake in your voice, you’d remind yourself that he has to make a living, he’s said it over and over again.  If you were completely awake, you’d scold yourself for being such a needy mess, but right now, all you can think about is how much you want him to stay, just this once.

After a moment, you feel the gloves carefully collect both of your hands into just one of his, and then he slowly reaches out with his free hand to cradle your jaw.

“I won’t be gone long,” Din murmurs.  “I can’t be.”

Your head turns slowly in his palm, and you’re just so, so sleepy.  Your voice is small and your words slur.  “Stay with me.”

Quiet, and though you can’t see him, the leather continues to press so warm to your cheek.  Your eyes slowly drift shut, needing him to stay exactly like this, stay right here just like this.  Karga can wait, the quarry can wait, the galaxy can wait—everything else can wait when things are like this, when he’s looking down at you breathing slow into his palm.

You’re almost asleep again when you hear him say something.

But… you have no idea what he says.  You hear it.  You hear his voice come through the pitch black, quiet enough to sit just on top of the silence and let the mysterious words simply become a part of it, but it’s strange.  Like his cadence lilts in a different way, the vowels are longer than what you’re used to, and your comprehension abruptly falters like it would if he was speaking another language altogether.

Maybe it’s just because it’s the first thing to pull you back from the edges of sleep, that has to be right.  It doesn’t sound like Basic because your mind is stupid and slow right now.  You need to ask him to repeat himself, but all that you can muster is the soft sound of confusion, not even able to open your eyes anymore.

His hands pull away from you and once again, you suddenly can’t decide between sleep and crying, quickly lifting and trying to reach out for him in the darkness.  You can’t feel anything, it’s like he’s completely disappeared from where you assumed he’d be, except then something tiny is placed into your hands instead and it makes an unhappy little sound at being disturbed.  You automatically hold the baby close to your chest and strong hands touch your shoulders, urging you to lay back down again.

“Leave the engine running, you’ll freeze if you don’t,” he mutters, quickly tucking the blankets up under your body while you close your eyes and feel the tears wet your lashes.  Fuck, you’re so exhausted, you just need to sleep.  “If I’m not back in sixteen hours, I’ll use my e-comm and you’ll have to fly out to me.”

He steps away from you, walks quickly and with purpose to the side of the hull, and a blast of frigid air fills the room before the door is slammed shut behind him.

***

Your head hurts.

Sparks and wires give your fingers mean, zapping reminders to pay attention every time your focus slips, but you still feel like you’re in a daze.

“Come on,” you drone, trying to use your voice to snap yourself back into the present, but the sound of it isn’t even interesting enough to pull you away.  “Come on.”

Maker, you’re going fucking crazy.  Is this just all an elaborate scheme to make you experience the same kind of insanity he told you he struggles with in your absence?  Because you don’t like this—you hate feeling like this, you can’t concentrate on anything and even if he hadn’t instructed you to do so, you’d likely still be counting the hours of his absence.

Fourteen have passed so far, not the sixteen you’re waiting for but getting close.  It’s one thing you’ve been able to accomplish.  Counting.  You can still count right now, so at least there’s that.

Oh, and another hoop you’ve jumped through.  Understanding words.  You can listen and repeat, even if you still can’t fully comprehend, but you’re getting there.

Din said… hit the target and I’ll marry you.

He said that.  Yep.  You’ve accepted it, you’ve accepted the words that were said.  Indeed.

Okay, but now… like…

What did he mean by that?  Why did he say that?

No matter how much you tell yourself he was just messing around—no matter how many times you offer up that perfectly logical answer to the burning question you’ve been sitting on, you still aren’t satisfied with it.  Something keeps tugging your mind back to it, a tether constantly pulling you away from the work that’s designed to be your distraction.

You frown down at the box of machinery.  Whelp, if he was serious, he’d probably immediately take the offer back after witnessing your behavior this morning.  You embarrassed yourself terribly, you acted like a clingy baby in the looming shadow of unconsciousness and what’s worse, you can’t even remember what he said after you begged him to stay.  It could’ve been a quiet, “Stars, pull yourself together,” for all you know.

And honestly, just… fuck these electronics.  You’re at the point where you’d probably cheer on whatever brutal impact damaged them so atrociously if you weren’t also well aware that this box was very likely attached to Din’s chest when it was crushed.  The magnetics are a complete mess, and you’re mostly just attempting to see how the individual components of each piece are supposed to communicate.  Turning the switch on doesn’t do much at all besides make the capacitors put out heat.  Not enough to shut it down or be a hazard to the housing when you close it, but enough to know that it’s going to present a problem for you at some point.

What’s more, you’re so lost in your own thoughts and busywork that you don’t see two green ears poking out over the top of the pile of armor on your temporary workstation (literally just the floor) until one of the thigh braces comes clattering down and the whole thing collapses with a ruckus.

You suddenly shove the metal box away from you in frustration and you reach for the little troublemaker with a sigh, scooping him up and getting to your feet.

“This isn’t going to work,” you grunt to him, hearing your words better for some reason when you direct them at the baby instead of talking to yourself, and his eh? allows the thoughts to come clearer and easier.  No, you can’t be distracted when your distraction is just another part of your status quo, you can’t use fixing mechanics to occupy yourself because it’s what you’ve done to occupy yourself your entire life, it’s worn off at this point.  You need something newer.  Something that takes your entire focus to do.

Eventually, your eyes drift over to the one metal panel on the wall that you’ve rarely ever opened.  One that takes up a comparatively enormous amount of space in the hull considering what you know it holds.  You eye the kid in your arm, who suddenly has sneaky painted all over his expression.  “You thinking what I’m thinking, demon?”

He squeaks his affirmative and you move over to the armory, pressing a few buttons before the doors slide open by themselves.  Because of course Mando invested in hydraulics for the gun closet but not for the hidden cot he used to sleep on, of course.

“Maker above,” you groan as the metal slides open, needing to lift your chin to eye the enormous collection.  How many fucking…?  All this for just one person?  What does that big one in the middle do that the others stacked strategically around it don’t?  They all kill whatever you point and shoot at, you’re assuming?  Are you missing something?

The baby makes a tiny sound of awe as you carefully look over your choices, not expecting nearly this many to be offered, before settling on one that looks the simplest.  A sleek silver one that’s still too big for your hand but smaller than anything else on the rack.

Grabby fingers reach out for the shiny metal as soon as you remove it from the shelf and you very purposefully set it down out of his pitiful wingspan.  “Nope.  Now come on, gotta bundle up.”

You make your way back over to the bed and pull one of the thickest blankets up, settling it over the open shield and then situating your partner in crime in his usual spot inside.  You strategically stuff and stack the fabric around him to make sure he’ll be warm enough in what you know has to be far below freezing temperatures, lifting it up over his ears and wrapping it around his neck in a loose hood.  He blinks up at you with gigantic eyes and an open mouth, clearly thrilled about your willingness to go on an adventure with him this time instead of being the tall nuisance that consistently holds him back from one, and you scoff down at him as you partially close the lid on his levitating nest of blankets for extra protection.  He should be warm enough, you’re not going to be outside long.

And then you pull out nearly half the amount of clothes you own and suit up in what feels like ten layers before grabbing the blaster.  The swirling wind nearly shoves the heavy hull door into you as soon as you open it and—Maker.

You look back at the kid behind you for a second, wondering if it’s too late to change your mind.  His expression narrows and he makes a triumphant ha! while pointing three fingers at the grey blizzard through the small open space in his crib.  Try as you might, you can’t ignore a call to arms when delivered with such ferocity.

Both of you step outside and take in the view after you wrestle with the door to haul it shut.  You don’t know the name of this planet but from what you can see, it’s one giant ice ball, mountainous and cold as fuck.  Though, to be honest, your only indication that it’s truly cold as fuck is the continuously accumulating snow blanketing the landscape and the flurries dancing in the whipping wind.  You’re too warm-blooded for climates like these—anything below room temperature and you’re freezing, you have absolutely no tolerance for cold whatsoever.

Keeping that in mind, you don’t travel far at all.  Just a few steps beyond the entrance to your shelter before eyeing what appears to be a large white boulder in the distance.  There’s a solid target, you figure—you’ll be able to see chunks splintering off when you hit it and the ice isn’t strong enough to bounce plasma back, you won’t have any ricochets.

Okay.  Okay—safety, where’s the safety on this one?  Ah, yes, okay—safety, off.  Stance, find your stance.  There it is.  Alright, now lift.  Lift, get that stupid frozen ball right in your sights, line it up.  Hold.  Hold.  Hold.

Inhale, exhale.  Inhale, exhale—

Fire.

You watch with bated breath as the bright red bolt launches from the end of the barrel and travels across the distance before melting a hole in the snow just to the right of your target.

“Mother fucker!”  You yell into the frigid landscape without warning, suddenly infuriated.  What’s the point of even having a sight if every gun is just gonna say fuck you no matter what?  Could there be some sort of mathematical reason why you seem to be fucking atrocious at this, you wonder?  Are you fucking up the angle somehow while trying to read the scope?  Should you just ignore it and try to aim without thinking too hard?

Admittedly, you spend the next five minutes shooting at that stupid fucking thing, not making a single shot.  It’s not been long at all, but your entire body is already trembling uncontrollably and it is just too fucking cold out here.  Freezing your fucking ass off isn’t going to help your aim of course, but it’s almost just tragic at this point.  Either you’ve got to accept that you’re just absolutely hopeless at this, or you’ve got to… blame the little womprat behind you for messing up your shots, yeah.  It wouldn't surprise you.

As a last ditch effort, you consider trying something a bit ridiculous to see if he really is fucking with you.

“I’m firing one last shot,” you call out loudly over the sound of the bristling wind and flurries, making sure he can hear your narration from his little blanket cave behind you.  “If I hit the target… I will present our demon overlord with a chunk of raw meat later for dinner.”

You give the offer a moment to sink in before raising the blaster, and then you jerk it up at the very last second while pulling the trigger.  The arc of plasma quickly disappears into the gloomy skies over the top of the ice boulder, completely straight.

You switch the safety on and turn around to say something smart to him, but… well.  Uh.  That’s an empty crib.

Sudden panic rips through you at the sight of the wide open shield, the blanket left abandoned inside.  Your head whips around in horror, wondering where the fuck he could’ve gone—but then you’re able to spot tiny footprints in the snow.  Your eyes quickly follow them up and see the baby wading his way up a large hill, slow against the terrain and trying in vain to get to something at the very top.

You drop the blaster and bolt through the blizzard to get to him while calling out through the freezing air and wishing, not for the first time, that you had a name to roar and strike fear into his tiny little heart.  In this case, you prefer a middle name as well.

Finally reaching him and yanking him up from the snow, you tuck him under the warmest part of your arm and open your mouth to start venting the terror from your body, but he makes a distressed noise and starts climbing.  You fumble with him on your way back down, not expecting that response, but he’s so distraught and preoccupied that he’s unable to stay still, trying to find different ways of escaping your grasp and making more and more sounds to indicate something is wrong.

“What the fuck are you—” you stuff him into the shield and at least get the blankets wrapped around him before looking back and trying to spot whatever he’s still wiggling and attempting to get to.  Frustrated cries start filling the icy air and… okay.  “Okay,” you tell him, your breath puffing like smoke in front of you, “okay okay, we can go look, but you need to stay warm.”

You clutch the edge of his metal shield and urge it to follow you back up the snowy hill, feeling the crunch of your feet disappear further and further into it as you climb.  Your outer two layers are probably soaked by now—stars, it’s so fucking cold.  You know you’re not exactly the best judge, but you’ve been outside less than five minutes and you’re already worried about getting sick or frostbite, already jumpy and wanting to go back to the warmth of the hull.

But as you reach the top and look out in the distance, you can just barely make out a familiar metallic glint on the horizon.  

Your heart picks up, but the baby makes another distressed sound.  Not… happy, not thrilled that his dad is coming back.  Some strange sort of dread begins to fill you, carefully holding the kid in his shield with one hand and looking at the bright reflection of light a little ways away just to make sure it’s…

No, it’s not moving.  Not disappearing and reappearing, not catching the sunlight differently.  Completely stationary in this absolutely horrendous weather.

You immediately make your way in that direction, your body deciding to outright abandon its trembling in the wake of this newfound worry.  You’re suddenly sweating, way too warm.  That’s Din, you recognize the glint of his armor anywhere, but why isn’t he moving?

The closer you get, the faster you move and the more you’re able to see.  He’s laying facedown in the snow.  There’s quite a bit of it covering the back of his cape, maybe a few inches, and… there’s also someone laying equally as lifeless behind him.  Your heart is slamming now, you’re doing your best to run in the unforgiving terrain, and you finally see that it’s… a corpse, a frozen corpse is behind him with a rope tied around its ankles, clutched tight in Din’s unmoving fist as it lays against the pure white backdrop.

“Mando?”  You call out, dropping to your knees as soon as you reach him.  “Hey—hey, can you hear me?”

The beskar strapped to him is frozen over and feels colder than ice when you try to shake him.  He doesn’t respond.  He’s dead weight; you do your best to turn him over on his back, but you still get nothing from him.  You shove your trembling fingers up under the helmet, and the only reassurance you have that he’s even alive comes from the petrifyingly slow pulse beating underneath.  His skin is ice cold.

Shit, he’s still breathing but he’s hypothermic, you have to get him back to the Crest right fucking now.

You fumble to get in position above his head while hooking both your arms under his, before leaning everything you have into it—but fuck, he’s so heavy.  You can barely lift him even just a few inches off the ground—the snow is deep, his armor makes him weigh a ton and the fabric wrapped around him is sopping wet.  You try again, making a tight sound in your throat while you haul, but it’s no use.

“Fuck,” you curse, starting to panic even fucking harder.  You’re gasping and breathless and getting dizzy and scared, continuing to try and find different angles to heave—

—until suddenly the burden is lifted.

You nearly fall backwards on your ass at the abrupt removal of tension, playing tug-of-war with a team that decided to give up with no warning.  But it’s like it almost doesn’t even phase you; you don’t even look behind you to see the baby’s eyes closed tight in concentration, you just recover and pull with both arms, feeling Din’s body gliding easily along the snow now and leading him all the way back down the hill.

Once you get inside the Crest and shut the door to the raging blizzard behind the three of you, there’s an extended moment where you just… you don’t know what to do.  You know all about how to deal with heatstroke, but this is the opposite—he either spent too long in the cold, or he exhausted himself trying to get back too quickly and then spent too long in the cold.  He said he’d use his e-comm if he wasn’t back in sixteen hours—was that the cutoff?  The point where the temperature outside would shut his body down and he’d need you to come get him?

Regardless, you need to warm him up.  Yes, that’s your priority, and you figure the quickest and safest way to accomplish it has to be the shower in slow increments.  The kid helps you move Din into the tiny fresher in the hull and then you sit on the floor with him, holding his limp body to your chest while reaching up to turn the faucet on.

Cold water sprays down and then suddenly—oof, he’s heavier than fuck again.  Air leaves your lungs and your neck cranes back under the unexpected increase in pressure on top of you to see the kid climbing down from his shield, no longer focused on mentally bearing most of his father’s weight or directing his own hovering form of transportation along behind you.  The baby disappears out of sight and you huff, completely trapped under Din as freezing water rains down on you.

Fuck, it’s so cold.  It’s way too fucking cold for you, but your core body temperature is also mostly normal right now.  Din’s isn’t, you’ll probably shock his system if you try to warm him up too quickly.  So you reach up and twist the knob, keeping it at a temperature he’d probably find just the slightest bit warm while inspiring violent shudders from you.

“H-Hey, I’m gonna t-t-take this off, o-okay—” you stutter down at him, knowing damn well he isn’t conscious to hear you but giving him that reassurance on the small chance he is, and then reach with trembling fingers to work at his armor.  You worry that the beskar is keeping the cold trapped the same way his clothes are, like having solid pieces of ice strapped to his body and nothing to protect him besides a few layers of soaking wet fabric.

The chestpiece comes off and you throw it blindly over your shoulder into the hull with a clang—admittedly, without thinking about where the baby is at all anymore.  The pauldrons come off next, but not before you reach up and turn the heat up just the slightest bit.  Your jerky limbs just want to blast it and remove the rest of his clothes in steamy hot water, but you can’t.  Even though your mind is hurtling at a thousand lightyears an hour, whatever reason you have left reminds you that you have to be patient or risk losing him entirely.

Eventually you’re able to get all the armor off but you hate the way he’s breathing right now.  Slow and shallow, like he just doesn’t really need the air at all but his body is still fighting for it on instinct.  His chest barely moves with it even when it’s got nothing weighing it down.

“You’ll b-be okay,” you say aloud, talking to the both of you even though only one is capable of responding.  “Y-Y-You’ll be o-okay—”

You reach up to inch the temperature a little higher, shivering terribly now.  His body feels slightly warmer under the shower than it did with the beskar, but you know you need to keep going and take the fabric off now.  Maker, it’s nearly impossible—the black clothing clings to his skin and its such a small space to maneuver, but it gives your mind and hands a clear goal to focus on while the water incrementally heats up.

Strangely, your adrenaline has been rocketing for so long that you almost lose track of time.  You just keep deadly focused on your task of undressing him and slowly heating the shower, trying not to think, trying not to get in your head and bring about disaster in such a crucial set of moments.

At some point, the water is warm.  Comfortably warm, and Din’s body isn’t ice cold anymore.  It’s warm, too, laying back into your chest and naked besides the helmet, but he’s still not moving.  No response, no matter how much mindless drabble you supply, no matter how steamy and hot the shower has become, no matter how much your own body has heated up.  Your fingers have found their home under his jaw, pressed right to his pulse point and feeling it continue to beat slow and faint, but you’re starting to feel the terror set in.  Real terror, the kind that makes you stupid and emotional, the kind that turns you back into a child again.

“I don’t know if it’s working,” you suddenly choke out, close to tears.  He’s warm, what else can you do for him?  Why is he not waking up?  “I-I don’t know what to do, Din, I…”

No—no, you cannot lose your shit, not yet.  You will exhaust every fucking option before you let that fear set in.  He’s not waking up because he needs to recover, his body needs time to work things out in a warm, comfortable environment.  He’s breathing, his heart is beating, he’s warm, and he’s still with you, so… you need to still be with him.

You turn the water off and clumsily get up, grabbing him under the arms and hauling him back into the hull.  He’s still heavy but it’s so much easier than before to move him; there’s no armor weighing him down anymore besides the helmet, no cape or snow or friction to catch him, no cold to lock your muscles up.  It’s slow going but you’re finally able to settle him in the warmth of your shared bed and then cover his body in the collection of blankets you’ve amassed.  You stand up and peel off all your wet layers of clothing, letting them plop to the metal floor while glancing around for the kid—

—who is currently swinging from the ladder to the cockpit with one hand.

It startles you for just a moment, just long enough for you to wonder what the fuck he thinks he’s doing up there, but then you figure that if he found some way to get up there then he can surely find his way back down again.

As you quickly drop to the bed and scoot up next to Din’s limp body under the blankets, the Crest’s engine suddenly gives a low rumble below the floor and heat starts blowing through the hull vents.  Again, you’re too preoccupied to even notice the gift much.  You’re tugging and tucking blankets around him and up under the metallic edge of his helmet when...

Maker, you need to take this off.  If the inside is wet, it’s probably keeping his head cold while the rest of him is warm from the shower.  You know it’s not a light thing—you know… you know at least a fraction of what this means.  You won’t look, you won’t look unless something absolutely drastic happens and it’s completely unavoidable, but you need to take his helmet off.

You catch the shoulder furthest from you and tug at his heavy body until he’s on his side, facing you on the bed.

“Din, I have to take your helmet off,” you warn him, saying it slowly and clearly.  Again, just in case.  “I’m not gonna look.  Nobody is gonna look—” your gaze flicks behind him to eye the baby, who is now somehow on the metal ground and waddling up to you both.  He blinks enormous black eyes at you, looking between you and his father huddled together under the blankets.

“Close your eyes,” you tell him very seriously, no room for negotiating.  “I know you understand me.”

It takes just a few seconds before he lifts his hands up and does exactly what you say, placing his fingers over his closed eyelids and then even so much as toddling around to face the wall.  You gasp in relief, clenching your eyes firmly shut and then pulling the helmet up, making sure you catch his head before it falls with one hand while tossing the beskar somewhere in the hull with the other.

Cold.  His hair is soaking wet and so cold, and his head rolls slightly as you guide it to rest in the warmest part of your neck.  Your hand stays attached to the back of it, wanting to transfer every single bit of warmth from your palm to him, and your eyes open to the kid’s back as your other arm wraps around Din’s bare spine.

And then all at once, you just feel… helpless.  He’s in your arms but Maker, you don’t know what else you can do.  The heat is blasting, you’re warm and pressed against him under multiple blankets, the engine is slowly heating the metal floor, but his breathing.  Slow.  Shallow.  Barely able to be felt against your neck.  He’s here but he’s not.  And you have no way of knowing if he’s getting closer or further away from you.

Tears start coming before you even realize.  But you have nothing to say.  After spending the entire time talking out loud, providing reassurances, narrating, distracting yourself—you don’t have anything anymore.  The silence twists you tighter, the nothing becomes inescapable, and the sudden sob that leaves you echoes hauntingly throughout the hull.  You pull his limp body as close to you as possible for comfort.  Wake up.  Wake up.

Your vision is watery—you don’t see it.  You don’t see the kid slowly turn around and take a few steps forward.  You only notice he’s there when green catches in the abstract blur, but you sniff and blink quickly to clear it.  It only takes a second to see the baby’s hand, extending and pressing against the blanket covering Din’s back, and you watch with wide eyes as he closes his.

And then there’s a second.  A second where you dare to hope.  Where you wonder if it’s even something that can be done.

The kid lowers his hand just a moment later and stumbles back a few steps, before plopping down on the ground and slowly falling backwards.  You have just enough time to see his little body inhale and exhale a few times as he sleeps, and then—

—and then Din suddenly jolts in your arms, bursting with too much life after spending too many heart wrenching moments without it.

“Shhh,” you breathe, instantly tightening your grip on the back of his head so he doesn’t pull away from you in a panic and keeping it tucked into the warmest part of your neck, right where your pulse thrums fast and present.  Your eyes clench tightly shut just in case and your heart bursts with pure, blinding, heavenly relief.  “Shhh sh sh, stay right here, just stay right here…”

As soon as he seems to recognize your voice and figure out that he’s not dead, his body immediately starts wreaking with shivers.  You squeeze him tight to you, feeling his large, quaking frame curl inwards into you for warmth, burying his own face into your neck even further and breathing shallow but quickly now, like his body actually wants the air again.  You do your best to will your blood to pump faster and provide him that relief, stretching and opening your body as much as possible to give him warmth.

And then you spend the next few hours like that.  Holding him, murmuring gently to him, providing him with your body heat and stars, he fucking clings to you.  He presses tight to you and trembles, and you don’t even know if he’s listening, but you keep talking.  Finding words for hours, and while some of them are just different ways of saying the same thing, you say them anyway.

He’s okay.  The kid is okay.  Everyone is okay.

Eventually, the shivering dies down until it stops altogether.  Din stays in one place and goes completely limp again, but this time he continues to breathe you in, slow and deep into the crook of your neck.  Fast asleep in your arms, and you thank the good fucking Maker above for the little angel passed out on the floor behind him.

***

He has to meet with Karga in two days.

After a few more hours of holding him and making absolutely sure he’s going to be alright, that’s all you can stupidly think about.

A deadline.  A very quickly approaching one.

You don’t know why.  But it might have something to do with the fact that you want nothing more than to climb up into the cockpit and navigate the ship off this horrid planet, and you can’t.  You’re confident that the hull and blankets are warm enough by themselves to keep Din comfortable as he recovers, and you’ve also had quite a while to regroup and get your mind thinking logically again, so you’re not worried about getting up and leaving him right now, no.  That’s not the problem.

The problem is that there’s a corpse outside.  You know this.  You know it’s there, and you know he needs it.  Nobody’s gonna take his word for just saying they’re dead, much less pay him for his services; no body, no bounty.  You also know it’s probably being covered with fresh snow right now, or maybe some sort of wild animal has already gotten their teeth into it, if anything can even survive out there.  And you’re the only one awake.  The only one capable of going to get it.

You’ve been arguing with yourself.  For about an hour, you’ve been struggling with the thought.  Din is soft and warm and every breath makes you focus less on the terrifying moments that occurred and more on the need to step up once again.

In the end, it’s the kid who gives you the final push.  You’re not going to leave him laying on the floor like that for any longer.  Not after what he did.

You take a second, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up all the way over Din’s head as it rests warm and comfortable in your neck.  You’re incredibly careful to cover his face, and even while climbing out of the warm cocoon of the bed, you keep your eyes firmly shut and continue to pull the fabric even higher, making absolutely sure you’re not going to see his face on accident.  You shouldn’t, you don’t think, as long as he doesn’t jerk awake and pull it down himself, but you want to take extra precaution regardless.

After quickly yanking on some clothes, you immediately make your way over to the kid and pick him up, seeing his little mouth open as he snores—and oh, you just have to.  You pull him to your chest and give him the most heartfelt, thankful embrace you can while not squishing him, before setting him down in his much more comfortable hovering blanket palace and closing the lid on it.

You know you have a very clear task now, but for just a few moments longer, you do your best to stall despite the ticking clock.  You start to pick up the mess in the hull—you close the fresher door, pick up Din’s discarded armor and set it in a neat pile close to the bed, place the helmet under the vent to encourage the padding inside to dry faster, and then you collect his old armor and stuff it back into one of the storage cubbies with your toolbox.

Only, an idea suddenly occurs to you as you’re putting away the chestpiece.  When you open the door to the hull, you know that a blast of cold air is going to flood the ship.  The engine is still heating everything inside and making sure you don’t get trapped in the snow by continuously melting it on the outside, but you don’t want Din to start shivering again.

So you grab the dented piece of electronics you were working on and flip the power switch, feeling the capacitors slowly start to heat up inside the housing.  You go back over and lift the blanket near his feet just enough to tuck the metal under it, close enough to Din that he’ll feel the same amount of warmth your body was providing him but not enough to overheat.

And then you make your way over to your bag and pull on the rest of your clothes, now exhausting almost every single clean thing you own just to make another trek through the snow.  You’re in the middle of pulling on your fifth pair of pants when the thought truly sinks in.

A corpse.  A dead body.  That you’re actually considering going out into the worst fucking weather in the galaxy to search for, haul back to the ship, and put into carbonite.  Because of a fucking deadline for an occupation very much not your own, very much not chosen by you.

You quickly walk over and leave through the door on the side of the hull before you can change your mind, slamming it shut behind you.

***

Well, it’s…  It’s not too terrible, you guess.

It’s been frozen out here for hours, that’s why.  It’s not bloody, not gory, not demented or malformed in any way.  Tranquil almost, like the creature died in its sleep in this nightmarish landscape, perfectly at peace.

You still don’t want to get anywhere close to it, but you have to.  You pull a face and slowly reach out, absolutely not thinking about the literal impossibility of it playing dead and just waiting for the moment to strike, but even still…  Even if there was nothing more sinister hiding underneath the surface of this scene, it’s still… existentially fucked up.  The last time you were confronted with a dead body, Din had to be the one to dispose of it—you couldn’t even think about it without threatening another wave of shock to your system.

And now you’re voluntarily grabbing the rope around one’s ankles and dragging it back down the pure white slope to the Razor Crest.

It doesn’t weigh that much and its icy exterior seems to work in your favor; it slides easily along the snow as soon as you get it moving.  As the ship comes back into view, you hurry to the door and you’re just about to open it when you suddenly get the feeling that you’re forgetting something…

Oh—

It takes a few moments of searching around in the freshly fallen snow, but eventually your fingers brush metal underneath and you stand, reaching behind you to tuck the blaster into your waistband.  When you’re positive you’re not going to accidentally shoot a chunk of your ass off on accident, you shove open the door and pull the body inside, before locking it tight behind you and keeping the frigid winter from touching this warm, quiet safe-haven.

There.  Halfway done.  You almost don’t want to look in case he wakes up unexpectedly, but then you find yourself peeking over your shoulder at the silhouette of Din’s body still passed out under the blankets and you’re thankful the squeaks and slams didn’t disturb him.

And then you take just a second to wonder if this is what it must be like for him.  Minus your obvious discomfort and ickiness at beginning to haul the corpse over to the carbonite chamber, it seems like it’d be reminiscent of any other time he’s brought back a dead quarry while you and the baby slept soundly.  Trying to be quiet, wanting it done and over with just to get back in bed that much faster, doing everything you can to prevent anything out there from so much as breathing on anything in here.

You do your best to hold on to the loveliness of the thought, because this part is the part you’re most anxious about.

The body needs to go into this slanted upright space so you can freeze it in carbonite.  And in order to do that, you have to grab it and put it there.  With your hands, you have to grab it.  With your hands.

You look down at its face, calm and at peace, frozen and forever etched into that expression, and something twists in your heart.  If it weren’t for the kid, that could’ve been Din.  If it weren’t for the kid walking barefoot through snow, fighting an uphill battle to make sure you get to him, helping you drag him back here and then overexerting himself to make sure he’d be okay, that could’ve been Din.  He drives you crazy on a consistent basis, but he came through today.

Know what?  If that little squirt can save a grown man’s life twice in a few hours, then the least you can do is finish this job for all three of you and fly your asses out of here.

Weirdly enough, being frozen solid allows for way better handling than the alternative.  It means you don’t actually have to touch it too much; you don’t have to deal with the limpness of death, it doesn’t seem as much like a person as it does a rigid board you’re simply moving from one place to another.  You can just grab the shoulders and yank and the entire fucking thing goes with it, solid and upright, naturally wanting to lean back into the chamber so you don’t even have to hold it in place.  The perfect quarry for you basically, day one stuff, as easy as it could get.

Almost done, almost done—you study the key panel on the upper-right frame before eventually pressing a few buttons, and then you step back as gas freezes and solidifies the corpse in its carbonite prison.

Yes.  You’re done.  You already want to take another shower just from touching it for a few seconds, but that can wait.  Quickly making your way up the ladder and into the cockpit, you fire up the thrusters and then navigate the ship through and beyond the swirling white atmosphere of this dreadful fucking planet, before punching in familiar coordinates to Nevarro.

***

“Din,” you murmur, making sure you have your eyes completely covered with one hand before gently easing the blanket down from his face with the other.  “Din, I want you to drink some wat—”

He jerks awake so suddenly that you hear the metal canteen fall over on the floor next to you, thank the Maker its lid is on tight.  You automatically reach out to steady him, pressing your free hand to his bare chest and continuing to speak calmly and gently to reassure him, but he still scrambles to take in his surroundings after sleeping longer than he probably has in weeks.  

You know what he’s seeing, even though you’re blind right now.  You took time to make sure everything was settled before waking him.  The hull is clean with only a single light to illuminate it, the baby is still snoozing in his closed crib, his armor is stacked in a neat pile, the blaster is put away, and you retired your makeshift blanket heater box so the only thing left is you.  Freshly showered, hair dripping, offering him water, and dressed in just a thin shirt with nothing else (you ran out of things to wear).

“Wh-Where’s my h-h-helmet—” is the first thing he asks, voice broken and raspy.  Stars, he needs water.

“The padding inside is wet,” you quickly supply, keeping your hand tight over the bridge of your eyes to make sure his freshly conscious mind immediately understands that you have no bad intentions.  “I swear I didn’t look, and I made sure the kid didn’t either.  He’s sleeping now, it’s just me—I swear nobody looked, I swear.”

You might just be saying the exact same thing over and over again and admittedly, that might be putting some weird kind of suspicion on you, but you just want to make sure he knows.  Beyond a shadow of a doubt.  It’s important that he knows he’s safe and that everything is okay now, even if he collapsed and spent an unknown amount of time in a purgatory where nothing was.

His body trembles under your palm, waves of shudders attacking him even after hours of keeping him as warm as possible.  “Are—Are we st-still on H-Ho—H-Hoth—”

“No,” you answer.  “We’re in hyperspace.  Everything’s okay now, I took care of it.  We’ll get to Nevarro on time.”

It’s like he takes just a few extra moments, as if he’s trying extra hard to remember before responding.  “But—I d-didn’t—”

“You have four bodies for Karga,” you tell him, not letting him get too lost trying to recall something that no longer poses an issue.  “I took care of it.  You need rest, I only woke you up to make sure you drink some water, so please—” you blindly reach your hand out for the canteen you know has to be around here somewhere, but all you feel is…

His.  Catching yours.

“Y-You took c-c-care of…”  His hands are trembling harder than his voice.  “Sh-shit, I’m freezing, I—”

“Drink some water,” you tell him, squeezing his fingers.  “I’ll go turn off the light so you can sleep more, but you need water.”

His hand feels like it doesn’t quite want to let go of yours yet, but eventually it does and you hear the sloshing of water as the metal flask is picked up with an unsteady grip.  Purposefully turning your back to him and making sure he’s not in your line of sight whatsoever, you finally let your hand drop and blink your eyes open at the wall across the hull.  You hear Din shakily unscrew the lid while you stand up and find the light switch, before turning around in the pitch blackness and using his loud gulps as your guide back.

Your hands and knees are barely on the blanket when you hear him toss the empty canteen to the side and grab you, pulling you down to him.  

Fuck, you’re not expecting it.  You fumble in the dark but he doesn’t really give your clumsiness much of a choice—Din pulls you under the blankets like he needs you, his body craving that warmth even though his skin doesn’t feel cold at all.  He hooks a strong forearm around your tummy, keeping your back pressed tight to his chest while the rest of him curls to fit every part of you, and you have to adjust the blankets yourself.

It’s not even a few seconds after you settle into position when his trembling hands jerk down to grab your shirt and yank it up.  You quickly scramble to help him get you as naked as he is, feeling his palms drag greedily across the heat of your tummy and breasts before you’ve even finished wiggling the fabric over your head.  The shirt lands somewhere in the darkness and you’re squeezed back against him, your hands landing on his forearms as they wrap around your waist and he clings shamelessly to you.

“You…”  Din’s body still shivers every once in a while but the heat and closeness allows his voice to even out just a bit.  He clears his throat and swallows, tucking his head and burying his face in your hair before trying again.  “You brought back the qu-quarry?”

“Yes,” you confirm, confident in your reassurance but gentle at the same time.  “It’s in carbonite.”

All you can feel or hear in response is his breathing.  His heart beating steady and strong against your back.

And then Din’s arms suddenly squeeze you tight—tight.  He lets out a low shaky exhale against the back of your shoulder and presses his lips to your skin.  “Sweet girl.”

And he says just… so much with those two words.  Slow and purposeful, the steadiest thing you’ve heard from him in hours.  But the two biggest competing emotions you hear tugging at his vocal cords are gratitude and apprehension.  Like he already knows that it couldn’t have been easy for you.  Like he’s not taking it lightly.

You don’t want to talk about it.  You don’t want to talk about anything that happened in the past few hours, not right now.  “It’s okay.  Please.”

This time his silence seems to be on the brink, as if he wants to say more but the extra plea you put on the end makes him hold onto his words, at least for now.  

“How d-did you find me?”  He asks instead, scooting his legs up enough that yours actually go with him.  Cradled in his naked body, radiating heat so he can recover, pressed so close to him that you feel like gravity itself would be pushing you into his lap if the world weren’t sideways.

“The kid,” you tell him.  “We were goofing around outside and he dragged me ov—”

It’s like he’s still so cold that even just the surprise of hearing you say that makes his whole body lock down and convulse a few times against your back.  “You were wh-what?”

“I was practicing,” you openly admit to him, feeling like the earlier events already occurred a lifetime ago and you have no reason for being shy about it anymore.  In fact, you’re glad you were there, being terrible at shooting.  The alternative is unthinkable.  Though, something tells you also improbable, having a little supernatural sidekick who cares so deeply for him.  “I raided your armory.  We weren’t outside for more than five minutes before I wanted to go back in, but then he found you.”

And you think he’s going to get after you, for some reason.  Seems about on par, you figure—going outside for even just a few minutes on a planet whose name you now remember is colloquial slang for hell, even if it’s the only reason he’s not an icicle right now.

But he’s just quiet.  Breathing.  So you just relax into him, thinking that’s the end of it.  You take a few deep breaths in through your nose and just… rest.  In the near perfect silence of hyperspace you used to find haunting, but now only find comfort in.  It reminds you of him.

“Did you hit the target?”  He asks you quietly, and at first you scoff, about to ask if he’s kidding.  No, of course you didn’t hit the…

Only, after a remarkable delay, hearing him phrase it that way suddenly makes your stomach decide to drop and do a fucking somersault on the ground out of absolutely nowhere.

Everything comes flooding back.  The conflict you used to think was the most pressing thing, the one that kept you awake and your thoughts scrambled for hours.  It feels like it was ages ago.  An entire lifetime has passed since that happened, you might’ve forgotten it altogether if he didn’t decide to ask that very simple question in a very specific way.

“I…” you mumble in response, your heart suddenly pounding.  “Not… not yet.”

Okay, that’s a good answer.  It’s the truth and you’re giving nothing away by saying that.  So now what is he going to say?  What is he going to say?  You spoke your piece, it’s his turn now, that’s how conversations work.  Well typically, that’s how conversations work—but with Din… you probably should’ve known.

He falls back into silence almost immediately, appearing to accept your answer just the way it is without anything else to add.  You feel his heart continue to beat strong against your back, but there’s something too tense about his stillness that doesn’t imply he’s relaxing anymore.  His body goes slightly taut, but not from the lingering chill in his bones.

He’s going to make you ask him, you realize.  He’s waiting until you confront him about his choice in words at the shooting range.  Which means he wasn’t just joking around.  He wasn’t just messing with you.

“Din…” you whisper uncertainly, and his face suddenly finds its way into the crook of your neck as soon as the word leaves your mouth, arms tightening up around you.  You spent forever trying to find the words to even bring this up, and here he is, already knowing exactly what you’re asking just by the tone of your voice.  Still, you ask anyway, sounding small and so unsure of yourself in the darkness.  “Why did you say that?  On Tatooine, why did you…”

Din’s chest expands against your back with a long, slow breath, and then he lets it out against your neck, hot enough to raise goosebumps all over your body.

“I… don’t know,” he admits, voice muffled and quiet, but it’s not… casual.  Not like he’s brushing you off or indicating he doesn’t want to talk about it, but like it’s actually a complete fucking mystery to him, just as much as it is to you.  “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know…” you repeat slowly.

“You had said something,” he mutters, shifting just a bit behind you.  His palm slides up your bare tummy, stopping in the warm spot just under the swell of your breast.  “Earlier that day.  I thought about it, and then I just… s-said it.”

You?  Said something that made him ask that?

“What?”  You blurt out, genuinely startled and having no fucking clue.  “What did I say?”

“Something about…”  He gives the smallest shudder from behind you, and you don’t actually know if this one is from the cold.  “Not wanting anyone else to know me the way you do.”

Your heart rapidly kicks up and you flush, hating how unbelievably possessive your own words sound coming out of his mouth.  “Oh shit, I… I didn’t mean for that to be… that sounds so bad, Din, I swear I didn’t mean for it to—”

He cuts you off by clutching you tighter, burying his face deeper into your neck and breathing out shakily.  “Tell me you meant every word.”

You blink a couple of times in the pitch black before sighing, letting go of any charade or front you think about putting up for him to save some dignity.  “I meant it.”

Because it’s the truth.  You said it when you were caught off guard, throwing it out to him along with other mindless drabble that came from a place that was very real.  You don’t like the way you phrased it, but you meant it.  You do mean it.  Every word.

If there weren't so many things still left unsaid right now, you might actually worry he fell asleep on you.  Din loosens up considerably after you admit it, letting go of more tightness you didn’t even know was inside him.  His head slowly drops from the crook of your neck to the back of it and he breathes hot air on your nape, quiet for a long time.

And, you suppose you’d actually be okay with it if that was the end of the conversation.  There are, of course, millions of things left to ask.  But he doesn’t know the answers, just as much as you’re left clueless about the questions.  You’re not expecting him to elaborate anymore, and if he’s waiting for you to ask, he’ll be waiting a long time.  Soon your eyes close and you almost feel yourself beginning to drift.  It’s been such a rough day today and to just be here in his arms, it’s more than enough for you.  

But then his low baritone comes through the darkness.

“In Mando’a,” Din’s voice suddenly whispers against your skin, “the verb, kar’taylir… it means to know.  Su kar’tayli, you know, kaysh kar’tayli, they know.  Ni ke kar’tayl nu… I don’t know.”

Your eyes pop open and you immediately forget all about sleep, wide awake and suddenly hanging onto every word as it rolls so gently off his tongue.  You’ve never heard the language spoken aloud, you’ve never heard anything about the Mandalorians directly from one before.  All of the stories seem sensationalized, passed down by word of mouth and chipping away at the kernel of truth until it disappears completely.

“The language is dying,” Din continues, murmuring soft and gentle along your nape.  “By the time I learned it, too many words had been lost.  The ones left were the ones that were needed.”

“What do you mean?”  You whisper, almost afraid of breaking the quiet.  Not wanting him to feel distracted or pressed, but needing to express your curiosity lest you somehow overflow with it.

“There are only three pronouns,” he answers slowly, and you’re already fucking fascinated.  “Ni, for I or we.  Su is you or you all, and kaysh is third person.  Subjective, objective, possessive, singular, plural—doesn’t matter.  Three words, for every individual or collective in the entire galaxy.”

You blink in the darkness, your logic telling you that it sounds so simple it’d become confusing and then your logic also telling you that doesn’t actually make any fucking sense at all.  If that’s true, it’s unbelievable.  How do they differentiate?  Just context?

“How do you distinguish?”  You ask him.  Admittedly, you don’t know much about linguistics—not anywhere near the extent he does, but it seems so counterintuitive.  I can’t be the same word for we, the amount of misunderstandings would be a nightmare.

“We… don’t need to,” he explains to you, slowly, like nobody has ever asked him these things before and so he’s unsure how to phrase it.  “Individuality isn’t valued, it’s not a concept.”

And… you almost can’t wrap your head around it.  “What do you mean?”  You ask again, knowing you’re sounding like a broken record without specifying more, but trying with your whole heart to understand.

“I mean… we swear oaths to never reveal our faces,” Din tells you, something you shouldn’t need to be reminded of.  “We abandon our names.  We become… whispers, of the same voice.  There’s not many words in Mando’a with a unique meaning, almost all of them are homonyms.  Interchangeable.  Transient.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, suddenly blown away by the implication.  Almost all of them are homonyms?  How in Maker’s name are you even supposed to communicate at that point?  That’s… unthinkable.

“Most words have two meanings?”  You clarify, wanting to be absolutely sure you’re getting it right.

“Most have five or six,” he returns, and you’re downright shocked now.  “Everything just depends.”

“Stars…”  You breathe, moving a palm up the length of his forearm and holding the back of his hand with it.  Fuck, you hope this is the direction he’s intending instead of veering him off course, but you’re incredibly invested.  “What else does, uh… kay—er, kar… kar’taylir mean?”

Din lets out a slow breath from behind you, and you can… you can feel his own heart beating faster when it presses up against your spine at the apex of his inhale.  “It’s… a rare word, it only has two meanings.”

You bite your lip and start to feel butterflies in your stomach for some reason.  Slowly, his hand begins to travel up your breast and then to your sternum before heading just the slightest bit left, and your own hand moves with him.

“To know,” Din says quietly, “but also… to care very deeply for.”  He doesn’t stop until his palm presses right above the rapidly pounding organ in your chest.  “To hold in the heart.”

“To know,” you swallow thickly, curling your fingers around his hand and praying he’s saying what you think he is, “or… to love?”

“When Mandalorian’s take vows, there’s no ceremony,” he whispers into the back of your neck.  “No witnesses, no celebrations.  We just take our helmets off in front of the other and look.  It doesn’t sound like much, but… our secrecy is our survival.  Letting someone see our face and swearing lifelong devotion to them, it’s the same thing.  To know is to love.”

Your eyes close tight and your lungs empty themselves, too full of emotion to even fit oxygen inside you anymore.  Din’s lips press feather soft behind your neck, and now you’re the one shivering uncontrollably.  The move up and trail along your neck in the darkness.

“Ni kar'tayl su,” he murmurs, shifting back just slightly and pulling at your shoulder.  “I know you.”

You go with him, facing the ceiling as he fits his head under your throat and places slow, open mouth kisses down the curve of it.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” he goes on quietly, his voice starting to sound raspy again, dragging his hand down your torso while his lips brush your collarbone.  “For an eternity, I’ll know you.”

Water wets the corners of your lashes and you inhale three or four times before exhaling, shallow hiccups and desperate for air.

“Ni ke vaabi nu kaysh ke kar’taylir su te ni kar’tayl su.”  Din says, slowly moving his mouth back up when your fingers tangle in his hair and beg him to come that way.  The words dance along your skin as he whispers them, forever searing themselves into your memory.  You can’t see them, you’ll never have a visual to reminisce upon, but you’ll know how they felt.  Right under your ear, brimming with quiet devotion.  “I don’t want anyone else to know you… the way I know you.”

Your face goes blazing hot at the sound of him translating your own rushed and half-assed sentence into something gorgeous and flowing, something that sounds so much more beautiful than when you blurted it out earlier.  You told him you loved him in that hangar, right to his face.  Unashamed and stupid about it, but meaning it with every part of your body.

“I knew you’d say no,” he finally admits, staying in this one spot.  Unmoving.  Telling you the truth, allowing you to know it.  “I just wanted to… say it.”

That… that makes sense to you.  The last part does, at least, it makes so much sense to you.  The first time you said you loved him, you said it just to say it.  You wanted to feel the words, sound them out even if neither one of you could hear them.  It felt freeing, like coming to accept a universal truth.

The first part, though.  You’re still behind.  “You knew I’d say no?”  You ask him, feeling him ease back just slightly.  Staring down at you through the pitch black, even if he can’t see either.  Keeping his palm over your heart as the ship hurdles through nowhere and everywhere at once.

“You wouldn’t take my first name without convincing,” he reasons quietly, and then moves back to lay in the blankets once more, leaving the rest unspoken.

But he’s… oh stars, he’s so right.  If he’s going to take his helmet off and let you see his face—if he’s going to commit to you that way, it is not going to be because you shoot a blaster correctly.  Not after today, not after what he’s told you.

So you move up to your elbow and turn to face him, trying to let him know why even if he’s already guessed the what correctly.

“I want it to mean something,” you say after a moment.  “I want it to… have the meaning it’s supposed to have.”

Your palm finds its way to his chest in the silence following.  Right over the beating of his heart, feeling it thrum hard and rhythmic while he considers his response.

“This is The Way,” Din finally murmurs, settling his hand over yours, and you repeat the words back to him.  Respecting them.  Feeling like, for the very first time, they now apply to you in some way instead of belonging to some mysterious creed you’ll never know anything about.

But when a shudder subtly rockets up and down his body, you realize the blankets have been pulled down with the changing positions and his whole torso is bare and exposed to the hull.  So you pull them up until you’re both covered again, before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his shoulder.

Din shudders again when your mouth opens and the hot glide of your tongue catches his skin, but you know it’s not from the cold this time.  His breathing deepens while you slowly move over him.  You ease him further on his back and let him keep feeling the warmth of your mouth on his body, alleviate the lingering chill by sucking gentle hickeys into his skin and feeling the goosebumps raise under your tongue.  He moves with you; he stretches his neck when you want to nibble his collarbone, arches when you mouth down his chest, shifts his elbow to let you drag your tongue along his ribcage.

And… and it’s as if all the stars and systems hold even more still for you than the relative physics of faster-than-light travel can explain away by themselves.  You’ve always felt timeless in here, living from one fleeting eternity to the next, suspended in perpetuity while the rest of the galaxy ages without you.  But when you’re with him and it’s pitch black and there’s no light to streak across your vision, no evidence that time and space have all but disconnected from each other just to let your insignificant little bodies through… it’s like you’re meant to be here.  In some strange, unexplainable way, you feel like you could’ve died out there with him in the frozen wasteland today and this is exactly where you’d still end up, no matter what.

To know is to love.

“Do you have brown eyes?”  You hear yourself whisper under his jaw, and you feel Din’s fingers thread in your hair and ease you up enough to brush his lips against your chin.

“Yes,” he whispers back, and then his mouth is on yours.

[meltwonu]

21. “First one to make a noise loses.”

49. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

63. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

          “Then do it.”

notes; camboy!jun, camboy!au, fwb!au, the smallest whisper of angst, sex toys, oral(fem receiving), some very soft!jun too tho~! 😩💕 Jun’s camming channel would be half mukbangs and half actual sexual content lbr KDHKJFHDS IT’D BE SUCH A RANDOM CHANNEL and I live for the idea 🤣 literally the titles would be ‘3am hot dog roller mukbang’ and the one next to it would be ‘jerking off in the shower asmr’ ☠️ and I'm here for it tbh.. LOL As always, thank you so much for requesting! Enjoy! 💕 

*edit: gonna try to fix up my masterlists either tues/weds too btw!

“First one to make a noise loses, okay?”

Your eyes threaten to pop out of their sockets as you stare up at Jun; heart beating out of your chest when he beams back at you.

“Wait, but that’s n-not fair, I--I--”

“Ah, ah, ah, I never said I’d be fair~”

His soft laughter has you biting your bottom lip and you find yourself only able to shyly look away as he settles between your legs with the vibrator in his hand again.

“My viewers seem to like watching you too. Maybe you should be a regular? You’re a natural on camera~”

You glance at the webcam recording the two of you in the moment - suddenly remembering that Jun had only invited you to film with him this one time because his followers had requested to see him with another person in his camshow and Jun had begged you for weeks to help him out.

It’d been awkward at first and you’d drunkenly yelled at him once or twice before you ultimately agreed.

After all, the two of you already had a strictly physical relationship anyway and having it recorded in a camshow at least gave you a means to remember it by when it ultimately would have to come to an end.

“You’re so fuckin wet for me... Bet I could slide my cock into your pretty ‘lil cunt right now~”

“Mmh, then do it…” Whimpering, your eyes flutter shut; only the sound of the vibrator turning on a signal that Jun was going to start his agonizingly slow teasing again.

“I’ll let you cum on this toy first and if you can be quiet, I’ll let you have my cock. How’s that sound, baby?”

Your heart skips a beat and your breath stutters; cheeks warm at the pet name he’d never used for you before.

It’s for the show. Don’t let it get to you, you tell yourself.

Nodding, you let him do his thing - jolting when you feel the vibrator press snug right against your clit in an instant.

Jun doesn’t say a word either; instead, he watches your face contort in pleasure and watches the way you squirm underneath him when he drags the toy through your folds and teases your entrance with the tip before he slowly starts to slide it into your cunt.

You can only bite your lip to prevent yourself from crying out and Jun can see the way you try to hold back - a smug smirk on his lips when he starts to shallowly thrust the toy into you a few times before he pulls it back out and goes back to teasing your clit again.

He repeats this action a few times, properly teasing you and turning off the toy when he feels your body tensing up underneath him to prevent you from cumming.

‘She wants to cum sooo bad lmao’

‘Jun’s not very fair either… not that he said he would be heh 😏’

‘He wants to punish her so bad and she wants it’

The comments and donations are double of what Jun normally rakes in, but he’s more focused on getting you to break and make a noise to even pay attention to what his viewers are even saying about the two of you.

‘The way he’s looking at her so intensely tho…’

‘Are they dating? Jun’s never mentioned her’

‘Maybe she's just shy?’

Jun takes the toy off of your sticky, wet skin and you’re quick to bite your bottom lip to hold in the shaky whimper that threatens to spill out of you.

 You watch through teary eyes as he brings the toy to his mouth and licks off your wetness instead.

Fuck.

You’re milliseconds away from throwing all caution into the wind and facing whatever consequences Jun has up his sleeve for making a noise first, but it’s Jun that breaks the silence.

“Goddamn it, I can’t fuckin’ not talk to you. I want you to cum on my tongue so fuckin’ bad, you taste so fuckin’ good.”

He tosses the toy to the side and readjusts himself between your legs as fast as he can - tongue already lapping at your soaking folds as your fingertips tangle into his hair.

“O-oh god, J--Jun!”

He doesn’t bother to start off slow; quick, harsh flicks of his tongue against your clit before he’s sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth. “Fuh--fuck, please, m-make me cum, I’m so close!”

Your moans and whines spill freely now that Jun's broken the silence and you lt yourself give into the pleasure as your orgasm washes over your body while Jun works you through it. 

“Mmnh, Juuuuun...” 

Your entire body buzzes from your head to your toes curling against Jun’s warm back and he lets you ride out your pleasure as he alternates between flicking at your sensitive clit and shallowly thrusting his tongue into your entrance as you moan above him. 

“Now I wanna feel your cock filling me up and making me cum... Please?”

Jun ends his show after he gets you to cum two more times - once by his cock snug between your fluttering walls and another after he’s cum inside your cunt and eats you out one more time. 

He makes a disgruntled noise when you move to sit up; leaning on his side as he watches you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“You wanna shower and then get a late dinner? I’m starved!” 

“Um, no I was gonna get going, it’s kinda late so...” You awkwardly sit facing away from Jun - eyes peering down between your legs at the cum drying on your inner thighs. “I have errands I gotta run in the morning anyway.” 

He raises a brow at your back, hand on your shoulder as he turns you to face him. “You okay? You can stay over, you know. I don’t mind, and you helped me out with my camshow ‘n stuff.” 

“No, ‘cause that’s just it. I did my ‘job’ so I should get going.” You end up replying to him in a much more clipped manner than you intend and the grip he has on your shoulder tightening is enough to let you know that he’s getting a little more than concerned. 

“Is that it? You only showed up ‘cause I told you I’d pay you 40% of what we made?” 

“Well? Is there any other reason? I got bills to pay too, Jun. And it’s not like we’re dating. We’re just friends that fuck, soooo...” 

You know you’ve hit a nerve when Jun growls; hand tugging you back until your  underneath him again. 

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

Rolling your eyes, you move to push Jun off of you as he only pushes you harder against his crumpled bed sheets. “It’s okay, Jun! You don’t have to lie! You only asked me to show up on your camshow because people asked you to have someone on it with you, I get it! It’s okay, it made sense, that’s why I agreed!”

“God, just shut up for one second,” Jun rolls his eyes as you scoff, “Yeah, I invited you on because people did ask, and I get maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to do, or maybe it doesn’t matter but I like you, okay? So can you just stay  the night and then we can talk about it when we’re both not sweaty and dirty as fuck?” 

“You’re really good with convincing me to stay, Jun.” You deadpan; internally giddy despite your outward façade of being annoyed still. “But fine, we can talk it over in the morning.” 

Jun lets out a sigh of relief, rolling over onto his side as you stay on your back, staring at the ceiling. 

“Damn, I really wanna kiss you right now. Is that okay or is it too soon?”

You roll you eyes again, this time jokingly as you ease onto your side to watch him beam back at you. 

“Then do it. I’ll take it as payment for you losing earlier.”

[babybluebex]

no pressure at all! but if you'd want to write more stan!reader x tom I'd really love that

i literally FLEW to my computer to write this i love the concept of stan!reader so much ((also i tried second person writing here??? i actually like it a lot more than first whoops))

little one [tom holland x reader]

➽ pairing: tom holland x stan!fem!reader (y/n) ➽summary: when you find out you’re pregnant, you worry about how tom and your brother will react. ➽ word count: 1.6k ➽ warnings: angst, pregnancy, a lot of exposition that doesn’t matter tbh  ➽a/n: enjoy!! masterlist & taglist in my bio

Sebastian stood at the door to your room, just looking. It seemed like a lifetime ago that you had moved in with him, when you were just the smallest thing. Pink skirt and pigtails, toting your dolly with you. He had been young when you were born, but still an adult; he was in college, living in the dorms when his mother had called him and told him the good news. He remembered the day you were born: he had been sitting in a lecture when his little flip phone started buzzing in his pocket. It was his stepdad, your father, telling him that his sister was coming. He left the lecture early and made it to the hospital just in time to be the first person to hold you. He was instantly devoted. 

You moved in with him when you were six. His mom had told him that she needed to move back to Romania and that she planned to bring you, and panic had filled his chest. “No, no,” he said. “Sh-She just started school! She doesn’t speak the language, she’s making all kinds of friends here! Mom, you can’t relocate her, you just can’t.” 

“What else can we do?” your mother asked. “Are you going to watch her?”

A month later, Sebastian was your legal guardian. He came to school plays and parent-teacher conferences, he cleaned up your skinned knees, and he read you stories every night. The two of you had gotten into a habit of falling asleep next to each other, and it got to the point where the bed felt too empty without you. Too cold, too lonely.

When you were twelve, you and Sebastian moved into a new apartment. It was bigger and better suited for two people, and you got a big-girl room. You started sleeping in your own bed, but you had no idea the effect it had on your brother. He couldn’t sleep without you next to him, digging your heels into his back and taking up all the blankets. So, he picked his happy ass up out of bed and, making sure to bring his own blanket, came to linger in your doorway. “I… I can’t sleep without you,” he mumbled. 

“You’re a grown man, Seb,” you said; he was always amazed at the little lady you had become, a smart girl with a biting sarcasm, even when you were little. 

“Yeah, and every night for the past six years, I’ve had your feet in my back,” Sebastian said. He settled into your bed next to, and added, “Now, move over, munch, or I’ll drag you back to mine.” 

Sebastian leaned his head against the doorframe, looking at the room. The walls had once been pink but were now an off-white, more becoming of a young woman, and the band posters were replaced with art prints and collages of you with your friends. Sure, he knew everybody grew up eventually, and he liked you as an adult, but sometimes he missed the little girl who was missing her two front teeth. 

The door to the apartment slammed closed, and Sebastian unwillingly pulled himself from his daydream. “Hey, munch!” he called. “How was Tom?”

Back on Valentine's Day, when you told him about you and Tom, he was instantly thrilled. Even though he outwardly seemed like he didn’t like Tom, he knew that Tom would treat you like the princess you were. And, for the past few months, he had been. Flowers were sent to the apartment on a near-weekly basis, handwritten letters came in the mail regularly, and Sebastian often heard little giggling coming from your room when Tom would call you. He had seen you smitten over guys before, but Tom Holland was a different breed. 

After a date with Tom, you were guaranteed to be talking up a storm, but you were quiet. “Munch?” Sebastian called. “Y/N?”

There was a sniffle from the living room, and a meek, “Seb?” 

Sebastian’s heart fell, and he hurried to see you on the couch, the comfy tufted leather that Mackie had so highly praised. You were crying, your knees drawn up to your chest. “No, no, no,” Sebastian cooed and hugged you tightly. “What happened, darling, is everything okay? Did Tom say something? Did you guys… Did you guys break up?” 

You shook your head and opened your mouth, as if to speak, but a sob left instead. Your chest was so heavy, and you knew that admitting this to Sebastian-- to anyone-- would make it too real but the secret was killing you. You had known that you were pregnant for nearly a month now, but you didn’t want to tell anyone. You knew that your brother would say that you’re too young and that Tom would say that he had a career to think about. And, on a small level, you knew that was true. You couldn’t ask Tom to dismantle his life plans for you and a baby. 

“Talk to me, darling,” Sebastian whispered. “What’s wrong?” 

You sniffled and leaned into your brother’s warmth, and your tears became new. Sebastian would flip shit, you knew it. “I--” You started. “Please don’t be mad at me, please, I can’t take it right now--” 

“Hey, hey,” Sebastian said quickly. “I could never be mad at you. Please, talk to me. You’re breaking my heart here, Y/N.” 

You settled your cheek into Sebastian’s chest, and the emotions ran hot in your face and chest and belly. “Seb,” you whispered. “I… I’m pregnant.” 

A million different emotions ran through his brain at once. Elation, anger, confusion, and so much more. “You…” he started. “You’re--”

“I’m so scared, Seb,” you whispered. “W-What if Tommy wants to break up with me?” Your breaths came in quick, sharp gasps, and Sebastian held you tightly to try to ease the anxiety. He was prone to anxiety attacks like this too, and you had learned how to settle him down, but he hardly ever had to do it to you. You were so grounded, so level-headed and serious. This was the most emotionally unhinged that he had seen you in years. 

The sounds of your crying died away, and you found your ears full of deep whispers. You had learned bits and pieces of Romanian growing up-- enough to pull out as a party trick-- but could never fluently speak it like your mom and your brother could, but you recognized the sound of it. Sebastian was whispering Romanian to you in a lilting voice, and it took you a moment to place it. A song; a lullaby. Sebastian was singing you a lullaby. The sound of it eased your nerves enough to dry up your tears, and you sniffled a bit as you sat up, shedding your big brother’s protective embrace. 

“Look,” Sebastian began. “I know I act like a dick to Tom a lot, but… I really like him. I wouldn’t have let him stick around if I didn’t. I trust him to do the right thing here.” 

“B-But what if he doesn’t?” You whimpered. “Wh-What if he does leave?”

“If he leaves, it’s his own fucking loss,” Sebastian told you. “That baby doesn’t need anybody but you and me, right? I’ve got you, darling. I’ve always had you.”  

You nodded because, once again, your older brother was the wiser of you. You knew that everything he said was true, even if your whole body hadn’t quite absorbed it yet. Tom would be a great dad; and if he wasn’t, you had Sebastian. “Can you stay with me?” You asked, grabbing your brother’s hand. “I-I’m gonna call him.” 

“Sure thing, munch,” Sebastian said, and he settled his arm around your shoulders. His little sister, the same little girl that cried at Bambi and Bucky falling off the train, was going to be a mom. Where did the time go?, he wondered. 

The phone rang out quickly, and Tom answered it swiftly. “Hey,” he said. “I just dropped you off, is everything alright?” 

You took a deep breath. Your heart was beating so quickly that you could hear it in your ears, and you mumbled, “Yeah, yeah, I just… I have something to tell you.” 

“Oh,” Tom said. “Sure. What’s going on?” 

Sebastian’s gaze was fixed on you, and he gave you a prompting nod. “Tommy, I…” You started. It was real. This was real now. “I’m pregnant.” 

There was silence on the other end of the line, long and potent enough for anger to start to flare in Sebastian’s stomach. “Are you serious?” Tom whispered finally. His voice was static-y over the phone, and you couldn’t place his emotions at all. 

“I’m so sorry, Tom--”

“Sorry for what?” And then there was a laugh. “Are you really pregnant? Please don’t be kidding with me, you don’t know how happy this makes me!”

Sebastian gave a sigh of relief, and he wiped one of your tears away with his thumb. “I really am,” you told him. “You’re not mad?”

“Why the fuck would I be mad?” Tom laughed. “I’m gonna be a dad! I’m gonna be a dad, Y/N! Thank you, thank you! I love you so much, baby, you have no idea. Does Sebastian know yet?”

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s the first one I told.” 

“Oh, no,” Tom whispered. 

“Yeah, oh no,” Sebastian said. “Dating my sister’s one thing, Holland, but knocking her up is different. What, you’ve got an aversion to condoms or something? I’m gonna kill you.” 

“Hey, Sebastian,” Tom chuckled lightly. “Look, it was an accident--”

“Oh, ‘cause that makes it better?” Sebastian scoffed. “Jesus Christ, you’re lucky you’re not here right now--”

“Shut up, both of you,” you sighed. “Tommy, you swear you’re not mad?” 

“Why would I be mad?” Tom repeated. “I’m so thankful. Thank you, my love, thank you.”

[jinkicake]

You Call Him Daddy?!

You accidentally call them daddy in front of the team. 

Aone Takanobu x Reader

Sawamura Daichi x Reader

For you, sweet Anon! I kinda rambled about Aone,,, uhhhh,,,, I just had so much to say about him! This is my first time writing for him and I had a lot of thoughts.... too many Aone thoughts..... I think his is the longest one I’ve written.... LOL bruh,, I was looking at my other posts and realized I have been spelling ‘accidentally’ wrong every entire time wtffff i-

SMUT

WC- 2,517

~~~

Aone Takanobu

Aone… is a service top,,,,, come on we all know he is

Like you cannot tell me this King wouldn’t treat you right, he is one of the ONLY haikyuu boys I would trust enough to marry

TBH mans doesn’t say shit and he isn’t going to say shit when you call him daddy in front of the team

The team though,,,, shit is going to go down like these mfs are going to combust

You have Futakuchi just standing there speechless with a proud look all over his face as he slowly starts clapping

And sweet Sakunami is like….. ‘did you guys hear sum….”

Ugh there is so much I could say about Aone….. like he would try to be sooo gentle with you just because he is a gentle person,,,, a sweet angel whose only concern is that no one will sit next to him on the train…. HOWEVER, despite as gentle as he tries to be this man still has power. Therefore,,,, you’re gonna get your guts rearranged, isn’t that nice?

Anyway,,,, let’s get into it!!

So basically….. it’s after practice and you’re there talking to Mai while waiting for the mf clowns to hurry up

And of course, Futakuchi wants to keep practicing a little bit so you’re like whatever fine,,,,,, since Aone was staying after too

You don’t really mind too much because Mai decided to stay a little longer as well but as soon as she left you grew tired fast, you had been sitting on the floor against the wall for over 40 minutes and all you want to do is go to sleep

You try to hold your tongue and not be rude because,,,, you don’t want to interrupt your boyfriend’s personal practice but gawwwwd were you bored

Instead, you innocently look around,,,,, innocently, however, your eyes keep going back to the tall blocker…. You glare at him so he notices your anger

Aone does and stares at you with a frown like he can’t figure out what he did wrong,,,,,,, you puff your cheeks out in retaliation

Behind him you see Futakuchi looking at you with a smug expression like 0.0 ,,,,,,, and then Aone looks at him disapprovingly

“What, I was just trying to join in on the conversation,” Futakuchi jokes and slaps Aone’s back before focusing back on the court

You’re like two seconds away from stomping your feet in retaliation,,,,, it’s nearly eight o’clock!!!

So with the anger of a very tired student, you begin walking around and cleaning up the stray balls

You start doing anything to hurry up their practice so you can finally leave with your boyfriend in tow, Sakunami gives you a thankful smile and you feel your irritation slightly diminish

There is something about the first year that you have just come to adore,,,,, not all first years though....

“Yo!” Koganegawa calls and you glance at him, your eyes widen when you notice the volleyball fly past your face. It misses you by a hair

You feel your eye twitch but still, inhale a deep breath to calm yourself down before turning to Futakuchi

“Kenji, when are you guys going to finish practice?” You ask sweetly and the captain looks deep in thought before shrugging

“I don’t know like 40 mins” He responds and you can’t help but whimper and gently stomp your foot, your boyfriend notices your change in attitude and glares at his friend,,,,,, “Fine like 10 minutes” Futakuchi groans and you have to hold yourself back from kissing your boyfriend senseless

That’s how you find yourself in the storage closet minutes later, placing the volleyballs in their respective corners

Aone follows closely behind you, not that you notice, and you nearly scream when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. Your boyfriend curls over your form to rest his chin on your shoulder, gently kissing your skin apologetically….. so he did pick up on the reason for your attitude!

You reach up and ruffle his light hair, giggling when you feel his smile against your neck

“Sorry I was acting so annoyed, I’m just really tired,” You tell him and his arms tighten around you

“That’s okay” Aone mumbles and you nearly melt, it isn’t often that you hear from him but when you do….. it makes you turn into a flustered mess

“I just wanted to go home, daddy” You whisper back quietly,, Aone pulls you flush into his chest and you squeak at the contact

However, when you hear a ball dropping behind you,,,,,,, you glance back in shock at the horrified first year

Sakunami opens his mouth to speak but no words come out, he slowly backs out of the closet and nearly trips when he runs away

“DADDY?!” Koganegawa mimics and Futakuchi pushes him out of the storage closet doors

“What are you talking about-“ He starts but cuts himself off but an impressed gasp when he notices your shocked face,,,, Futakuchi only smiles at his friends back and pretends to wipe a proud tear from his face

“You didn’t hear what you think you did….” You try and cover up but Koganegawa only repeats the word,,,,,, Futakuchi simply shrugs innocently

“I’ll give you your time alone,” He quietly closes the closet door and you sigh at the darkness

“Let me turn on a light-“ You start but Aone pins you to the nearest wall, his hands are gentle on your hips and you gasp at the suddenness of it all

“My love,” He starts and your eyes widen at the heat pooling between your thighs “stay quiet”

“Daddy, please. Please, please, please.” You beg, already taken over by pleasure. Aone continues to slowly thrust into you in a way that leaves you breathless and crying for more. His low grunts ring throughout the room and you whimper when you notice how his biceps flex with every thrust. 

Each stroke of his hard cock is so powerful that it nearly sends you into the headboard, you rake your nails along his ribs and tighten around him at the way his abdomen ripples under your touch. “I need more, daddy, please give me more.” 

Aone reaches down and rubs away the tears that spilled onto your cheeks with his thumb, he softly cups your cheek and leans down to kiss you. The kiss is a simple peck and you whine when he pulls away, however, your whines don’t last for very long. Your boyfriend picks up the pace and begins to snap his hips into yours, your breasts bounce with every thrust and you can’t help the way your voice shakes.

“Yes, yes, thank you daddy-“ You praise and moans of appreciation leave your lips so frequently, he is ruining you. There is something about the way he moves his hips so skillfully, how he thrusts into you so deeply but still manages to brush against your g-spot every time. It runs you up the wall and you’re so far gone you can barely focus on anything but him. 

Aone moves to rest on his forearms, leaning directly on his left side while his right hand reaches down to move your clit back and forth between his large fingers. His movements are slow and cautious, in a very teasing pace to build up the pleasure. Aone always winds you up so tightly before letting you snap, he is so focused on you. You mewl and arch your back, pressing your chest directly in his own, as he begins to rub circles into your clit. You open your mouth to say something but no words come out, that look in your eyes nearly makes his hips stutter and your boyfriend leans down to whisper his command.

“Cum.”

Sawamura Daichi

Let me start off by saying that all the captains have daddy kinks, no I will not be taking criticism

There is not ONE captain who doesn’t exude daddy energy…. I would love to see someone try to prove me wrong~~~ </333

Anyway,,,, Daichi is not called the dad of the team because he is mature and shit,,,,, no that is not the reason

Daichi is the daddy™ of the team, get it right, do I really have to explain this one

Like yessss feed us bitches who have issues with their fathers, yessss where my daddy kink bitches at? We are eating good tonight! 

Daichi isn’t my favorite daddy captain, it will always be Ushijima Kita, but lawwwwd he does make me act up

I thought about it for a while,,,,, how Daichi would react to being called daddy in front of his team and honestly,,,,, I don’t really know…..

His team is such a mess that instead of being embarrassed or anything he would have to calm them down because they’re losing their minds like he does not have the time to be embarrassed ya know

Daichi is a soft daddy,,,,, like come on you have a crazy mf like Sugawara and you expect him not to be soft 

Tbh I hardcore ship Daichi with that cute girl from the girls’ volleyball team like ugh her crush on him is sooooo cute,,,, idk why that is relevant I just wanted to point out how adorable and sweet they are ….. power couple!!

“He has a daddy kink,” Kiyoko points at the picture with the blonde in a yellow uniform, the two of you are going through the Spring High volleyball magazine

“Didn’t he hit on you one time, lucky bitch” You gasp dramatically and Kiyoko rolls her eyes before flicking your forehead,,,, it is only the two of you in the gym before practice starts

Your once shy friend is laid back and comfortable, out of her shell since it is only the two of you

“Daddy kink” She points to middle blocker daddy!matsukawa from Seijoh and you give her an approving nod

“Daddy kink” You then point to the ace ugh iwaizumi </3 and Kiyoko draws a heart over his face

“Daddy kink, daddy kink, daddy kink,” She begins pointing to numerous members from Seijoh “they all have daddy kinks���

“Somebody is eager,” You playfully flirt and she presses her fingers to your cheek to push you away

“Omg do Karasuno, please I need to know your thoughts!” You beg and flip to your own school’s team, Kiyoko looks at you cautiously before taking a deep breath in

She refuses to speak but points at Asahi and you nod in agreement “I believe so as well” You whisper and she chokes on her laughter

Kiyoko glances at you experimentally and then points at Daichi,,,,, she stares at you and watches as you try to hide your expression

“Well… not that I would know-“ You lie and she pushes your shoulder,, you dramatically stand up in front of her with your hands on your hips “Yes. He does have a daddy kink” and then Kiyoko laughs loudly, covering her mouth as she falls over and wheezes

“Girl fuck you, you expect me to fuck Daichi and not call him daddy?” You ask and she tries to wave you off

“(Y/N), I’m not judging-“ She cries, clutching her sides as you continue to scream random nonsense

“No, I do call Daichi ‘daddy’ and what about it? Tell me you wouldn’t also!” Your voice echos throughout the empty hollow gym and, not to your knowledge, outside the doors as well

Kiyoko continues to laugh loudly, her angelic laughter is something you know the second years would kill to hear, however when she glances at the open doors she immediately closes back up again

She grabs your wrist and pulls you to sit back down beside her, trying to act like you two weren’t just discussing what you call Daichi late at night

Someone clears their throat from the doorway and you glance up to see your boyfriend along with the other third years and a few second years

“H-Hey” your voice cracks and Kiyoko covers her face with the magazine to hide her laughter, her shoulders shake violently beside you “what are you guys up to?” You glance around the gym and try to ignore the silence

“Not much~” Sugawara sings and walks up to you, he grabs the magazine and points at himself before whispering, “daddy” he solidifies the secret with a wink and you burst out laughing

Kiyoko stands up and tries to hide her face into the wall to hide the way she is laughing so hard

“I can’t be here,” You choke and get up, walking past your boyfriend who stares at you with an emotionless expression

You know he heard everything~~

“Daddy,” You giggle as you continue to roll your hips on Daichi’s lap, you let out an exaggerated moan when you feel his cock harden beneath you. Teasingly you bite your bottom lip and flirt with his eyes, continuing to grind against him. Daichi simply ignores you and you move your lips to his neck, trying to get some sort of reaction from him.

You lick at his skin and release a muffled moan when you bite down on his skin. You’re acting so cocky right now, so driven by lust that you’re acting so foolishly in front of your boyfriend.

“Come on, fuck me.” You push your chest into his, purposely rubbing your breasts against him. Daichi leans forward and ghosts his lips over yours, pulling away whenever you get too close.

“Why should I fuck you when you’ve been nothing but naughty?” He asks and you bring your finger up to tap your chin before you laugh softly again.

“Hmm because I asked, daddy.” You lean up on your knees and press your lips to his, Daichi swiftly smacks your ass. His hand stings your flesh and you whimper but can’t help the smile that grows on your face from getting what you want. “Mmm just like that~” You laugh breathily and Daichi positions you down onto his thigh, you mewl at the feeling of his strong muscle pressed underneath you. His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, teasingly he squeezes the sides of your neck and watches the way your eyes cloud up at. “Yes, daddy.”

You try to kiss him once more but you’re unable to move due to the hold he has on you. Daichi continues to bring his hand down and spank you over and over, his slaps are harsh but you happily take them as you feel the liquid pooling between your legs.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Daichi asks and his eyes narrow warningly at you, you pretend you don’t notice. You know he is referring to earlier today.

“I’m sorry, daddy?” You apologize but you can’t help but wonder if you really are sorry or not, you give him another cheeky smile and Daichi slaps your ass once more while cutting off your flow of air.

“You love your punishments, don’t you baby girl?” He asks and you nod eagerly. “I know, god, I’m going to fuck you so good.”

~ Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly @kunimwuah  @lovellucy @osamuonigiri

[yuthoe]

Mean (MONSTA X: Chae Hyungwon)

LET'S HOPE IT SHOW UP IN THE TAGS THIS TIME

hellooooo friends and welcome to the effect of hyungwon's hands on lil ole myks. tbh i don't think this one is very good, but i just wanted to write it bc i would be frustrated for the next week if i didn't. i saw this one tweet of a closeup of hyungwon's hands and it literally wouldn't leave my brain so now we have this

hope yall like iiiiiiit

PAIRING: Hyungwon x female!reader. GENRE: fic, smut. WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, depictions of vaginal fingering, penetration, choking, swearing, dom/sub play, bondage, lots of mentions of hands, probably poorly written. WORD COUNT: 1,932.

---

You squirm on his lap, naked and completely at his mercy. Hyungwon has your arms tied behind your back, two long fingers deep in your cunt and a thumb pressing down on your tongue. He makes sure to time the movements of his fingers to the swirling of your tongue around his digit. The little mewls you make almost make him want to take pity on you and pull you down onto his cock, already hard and brushing against your thigh with every buck of your hips.

Almost.

Hyungwon can feel your essence dripping down his hand as you let out a strangled moan when he curls his fingers just right against your sweet spot.

“Hleahe,” you say around his thumb. “Hyuhon... Hleahe, Ah can’k hkake ih��,”

“Hmm?” he hums, forcing your mouth open wider. “What was that you said? I couldn’t quite understand.”

But you can only moan as he pushes another finger into your hole. Your thighs shake from the intrusion, and if not for Hyungwon’s stern warning earlier to sit up straight you would have collapsed into his chest by now.

Your body feels so hot, burning from the inside out like a fever. His fingers dig in so deep that you think you might start crying if he continues.

“Uh-uh,” Hyungwon suddenly says, withdrawing his thumb from your mouth to squeeze your cheeks in his big hand. He guides your face close to his, plump lips slightly brushing against your puckered ones. “Eyes on me, baby. Open your eyes and look right at me." He waits for you to follow his orders and presses a quick kiss to your nose when you do. "Now. I couldn’t really understand what you were saying earlier.” He trails the hand on your face down, down, brushing his fingertips along your sensitive skin until it rests at the base of your neck. “Could you repeat that please?”

You gulp and whimper—his other hand hasn’t stopped its ministrations at your core and you can barely get out a word, let alone a full sentence.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips. “I… I said I—hnng,” Your back arches forward as a thumb joins Hyungwon’s fingers to press at your swollen clit. “Aahhh, Hyungwon, please—,”

“No, no,” he says, hand twitching at your neck, tightening his grip a tiny bit. “Use your words, baby, come on.”

Another moan erupts from you when Hyungwon rubs your nub in small circles. “Oh my god, Hyungwon please, I can’t take it anymore, please fuck me!” You’re certain there are tears on your face. He’s been playing with you for the better part of an hour with no signs of stopping or letting you come. At this point, you’re not sure if he’ll ever let you finish tonight.

Hyungwon hums, wipes your tears with the same thumb that was gagging you earlier, brushes hair away from your eyes. “There’s my good girl,” he murmurs, kissing your lips and cheeks and nose and eyes. His fingers still inside you when he asks, “You want my cock, baby?”

You nod furiously, rolling your hips to get him to move again, get him to let you go, get him to do something, anything! “Yes… please…”

Suddenly your cunt is empty and before you could even gasp, his fingers are in your mouth, soaked in your juices. A shudder jolts your spine as you taste yourself on your tongue.

“Clean me up good and you can have it,” Hyungwon says, deftly unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants with one hand.

One look at his bulge spurs you into action, swirling your tongue all over and between his long, soft fingers. Hyungwon’s gaze is steady on your lips, watching you drool all over his hand in your rush to please him. He takes his cock out from his boxers and gives it a long, hard stroke.

Your eyes are fixed on his member and you whimper, more insistent now on cleaning up your mess so you can finally have him inside you.

Thankfully Hyungwon withdraws his hand after a few more seconds of you sucking on his fingers, and he quickly pulls you by the back of the neck to devour your lips. You can’t help the moans that escape you as his tongue explores your mouth. You squirm again in his hold and he guides your hips closer to his, hand gripping your flesh so tightly it’s sure to leave a mark. You feel the tip of his cock brush your folds and you mewl.

“Hyungwon, please,” you plead again against his plush lips. “Please, I need—,”

“Shut up,” he snarls, and with one thrust fills you up to the hilt. Hyungwon groans as he grips your hips tighter, big long fingers sprawled over the expanse of bare skin.

God, he fills you so well, long and thick and hitting all the right spots inside you. The heat from him unravels out, down to your curled toes and to the nails digging into your palm.

Hyungwon lets you adjust to him for a few seconds, dropping kisses along your neck and jaw, palming your breasts and rolling your pebbled nipples with his thumbs. You fidget and clench around him, biting back moans whenever he nips at the sensitive skin of your neck and chest.

Your head lolls to the side, letting Hyungwon have free reign wherever he can reach, and as you make to shift again, you feel the silk tie binding your wrists being pulled down and keeping you still. You’re sat up straight again, this time completely trapped as Hyungwon’s strong arm anchors you down.

He brushes his bangs away from his face, steely gaze making you melt against his other hand on your waist. He licks his lips and says, “You wanted this.” He grinds deeper into you, and a whimper breaks out from your throat unbidden. “You’re gonna take it.”

“Oh my god—,” you choke out, before he pulls back, leaving just the tip in, and slamming into you. You gasp for air, back arching at his hard thrust. “Hyungwon—,”

He’s relentless in the assault on your cunt, pounding out a rhythm that gets a squeak out of you everytime he hits the deepest parts of you. Light groans and praises of how beautiful you look, how well you take him escapes his lips.

At some point, when you’re all sweaty and tear tracks line your face, he stops, presses you close to him, cock still snug inside your hole. The tremor in your thighs and hands won’t stop, tired from being kept in their positions for too long, and you sob as Hyungwon touches your forehead to his.

The kiss he gives you is a lifeline that you’re eager to take. His lips move languidly against yours, unhurried even as his hands explore the expanse of your skin—squeezing your thighs and ass, dragging his nails down your sensitive back, cupping both sides of your neck. A thumb hooks on your lips as his other hand slowly trails down the valley of your breasts, past your quivering stomach, and comes to rest just at the crease of your thigh.

Hyungwon hums against your lips. “Do you want to come, baby?”

As you open your mouth to answer, you feel Hyungwon’s thumb position itself over your clit. You whimper, tighten around his cock. “Oh my god, yes,” you say, breathless and leaning into another desperate kiss. “Yes, please, Hyungwon—can I please come, please!” You make sure to look at him when you beg, despite the tears blurring your vision.

You see him smirk and then the next second, feel him grind into you. Hyungwon rubs small circles on your clit as he picks up the rhythm again.

“Such a good girl,” he says, hand coming up around your neck and squeezing. Bites his lip when he hears you whine, strangled from how his hand encases your throat. “You’re perfect for me aren’t you?” A sharp thrust, a harsh intake of breath. “Are you gonna come for me, baby? Hm?”

Your mouth is hanging open in the shape of his name, futilely trying to find your voice with the grip he has on your neck. You try to nod, try to warn him that the knot in your core is about to snap, when he grunts out, “I can feel you, baby, come for me, come on.”

You whimper, high and thin, and thrash in his arms, overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm. After what feels like hours and hours of teasing and edging and denial, the release is a relief.

But Hyungwon isn’t done.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he says, releasing your throat in favor of cupping the back of your neck to pull you down to his hard thrusts. You’re still spasming around him, and every grind pushes you closer to oversensitivity. “I’m gonna come inside you, okay? You want that?”

You moan and tighten around him again. A flush comes up to your face as you shiver in his hold. “Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please, I want it, give it to me, please.”

He chuckles. “That’s a good girl,” he says, voice low and husky and sends shivers down your spine. He braces both hands on your hips and bucks up into you, speeding up as he chases his high, and you’re just there for the ride, pliant and all his for the taking.

“Fuck,” he grunts, digging his fingers deeper into the plush of your hips it’s almost painful. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—!” You’re helpless as Hyungwon cranes his neck up to catch your lips in a hard kiss, as he pumps once, twice, three times before stilling. You feel warmth spread all over from the inside out, practically feel every throb of his cock as he spills into you. He swallows the tiny moans that slip through your lips.

It’s quiet in the room, save for your ragged breathing, and the softest rustling of fabric as Hyungwon finally tugs on the knot that frees your wrists. Your forehead is pressed against his as he keeps your arms still. Warm hands trail upwards to your shoulders and massage the tops of your arms.

You let out a content sigh and give him a quick kiss. Slowly, you roll your wrists, bend your arms, inch by inch until your hands are cupping Hyungwon’s cheeks and your fingers are brushing through his silky hair. It was torture, not being able to touch him, though you can’t say you hated it.

Hyungwon gently pushes your head to rest on his shoulder and you breathe in his scent, pressing a small kiss to his neck. Big hands are at your thighs again, squeezing and massaging the sore muscles.

“You okay there, love?” he asks, and the vibrations make you shiver a little.

“Mhm,” you say, nodding small. You’re drained, unable to string together anything other than random sounds of assent.

Hyungwon hums again. “Good. We’ll rest for a bit and then take a long, hot bath, how’s that sound?”

You nod again, winding your arms around his waist and sliding your hands under the shirt he refused to take off. When you told him last night that you wanted him to be a little mean, you didn’t think he’d take it this far. But you can’t really complain because, as intense as it was, it felt so good.

Palms press against the skin of his back, and you feel him shiver slightly as you trace meaningless shapes there.

Maybe you should ask him to be mean to you more often.

[kuroos-moon]

『 Sugawara Koushi Takes Proper Care of You 』

➪ a/n: thanks for this req this had me flustered tbh, hope u like it!! 🥺

➪ warning/s: NSFW 

➪ smut starts after the cut

wc: 2k words

The weight of today’s workload took so much of a toll on you, your eyes were tired and your back ached terribly. There was simply too much to stress about and fatigue was so harsh on you that you just wanted to collapse the moment you enter your shared apartment with Suga. 

“Y/n? You’re home really late today,” he pops up from the kitchen, still wearing an apron. 

“I know, I’m sorry, I- there was just lots of things to do,” you frown as you make your way before him, and he automatically presses a kiss on your forehead as you do so. 

“It’s alright, come and have dinner with me then,” he smiles at you with warm eyes, a full-on plan to run you a nice warm bath and give you a soothing massage already wired to the back of his mind. 

“I’m sorry, Koushi,” you smile apologetically, “I’m just really stressed out right now, I don’t have the appetite.” 

Of course he’d be worried, looking at you as you enter your bedroom without another word. Screw dinner, he thinks to himself as he removes his apron and follows you inside. 

“Let me give you a massage, love,” he whispers as he hugged you from behind. “No it’s f-

“Y/n let me take care of you,” he gives you a sad and worried smile, making you give in. He turns you around to face him before he starts to undress you, and you raise a brow. 

“I’m applying oil,” he explains with a small chuckle. You just stare at the lovable doting man before you as he slips your buttoned shirt off, planting a soft lingering kiss on your collarbone in an attempt to make you feel relaxed, but it did the opposite. 

It made your breath hitch and your thighs unconsciously press together, and this wouldn’t go unnoticed at all by the ever so observant former setter who could read you like the back of his hand. 

Maybe it wasn’t what you wanted right now, although it was another effective way to rid you off your stress, but he decided to test the waters first. His gentle touch on your waist slowly and draggingly travels up to the hook of your bra before he strips you off of them as well. 

He notices you gasp almost inaudibly when he ‘unintentionally’ brushes a finger at the side of your breasts, and the look in your eyes told him you wanted it, you wanted him. 

“Perhaps the massage can wait,” he says in a soft tone before he pushes you down the bed with one hand now loosely around your neck, the other resting beside your head to support his weight. 

He didn’t have any plan at all to be rough with you, but he knew how much you liked it when he held you by your throat like that. 

“Koushi,” you mutter in surprise, and he gives you yet another warm smile. “Do you want me tonight, y/n?” He asks, and you gulp, your chest starting to heave at how hot he was. 

Sugawara Koushi is the CEO of asking consent, I take no criticism. 

“Do you?” He repeats, leaning down with his mouth beside your ear as his breath tickles your skin. You whimper in response when his thigh brushes against your core, but he needed your ‘yes.’ 

“Please,” is all you get to say, your head clouded with desire as he starts leaving open-mouthed kisses at the side of your neck. He hums, “please what, y/n?” 

“Take care of me,” you breathlessly say, and he smiles, leaning away to look at you. “I’ll take good care of you,” he softly says, a glimmer of affection in his eyes as he leans in to kiss you. 

He definitely drove you wild and crazy, making you forget all the care for the world as he tantalized you with his warm stare and soft sinful lips, not to mention his gentle and slender fingers that started to travel south across your smooth and sensitive skin. 

You let out a soft moan when his mouth moves down to your breasts, and unlike the initial kisses, he was sucking harshly, running his tongue over your mound as his hand squeezes your other breast. 

“Koushii,” you whine, squeezing your thighs together more desperately in an attempt to relieve your needy and dripping cunt, and he knew all too well how worked up you were by now, you’ve always lost to him in foreplay. 

You run your hands over his clothed back and whine at the insufficient skin to skin contact; making him chuckle at you before pulling away to remove his blue sweater but leaving his shorts on, “shall I take it all off?” He asks, both arms on either of your sides to support himself. 

Your eyes fall to look at his now bare stomach, his toned build and bulging cock which was beyond evident in his shorts making you wetter to the point wherein your underwear’s soaked. 

Filled with desperation, you push him off of you and straddle him, your head falling back at the feeling of his cock pressing against you. He observes you as you grind against him so desperately like you’re in your heat, but the last thing he wanted tonight was for you to be on top and do the work. 

He should be the one to work on you. Channeling his inner soft dom, he flips you over, pinning your limbs with his. “Koushi, please,” you beg, feeling miserable as you can’t even do as much as squeeze your thighs together. 

“You’ve been really tired y/n,” he says in a low voice, tightening his hold on your wrists and inching closer to you until his lips brushed against yours as he spoke, “so I’ll be the one to take care of you and drive you over your edge tonight,” he breathes. 

He had you tamed this easily, no longer resisting his hold, and he took that as a sign that it was okay for him to let go. “You could only be patient,” he mutters, not at all self-aware that he probably took pleasure in seeing you whimper as he squeezes your throat, before he slowly runs his hand down all the way your lower stomach and finally tracing a finger against the waistband of your panties.

“Koushi, please, touch me,” you grip his hand, making him draw his gaze from the wet patch on your undies. “Already?” He teases, but not at all meaning to draw this on for long. 

“Too cruel,” you mutter, and he stops running his fingers against your inner thighs. “Cruel?” He repeats in surprise, he never meant for you to feel as if he won’t give all of himself to you then and there, he simply had in mind how your orgasm satisfies you more and more the longer he had kept you waiting. 

He doesn’t say anything more before slipping two digits inside your underwear, feeling up how wet you were. You gasp when he runs his finger through your slit, and the moment you’ve opened your mouth, he slips his tongue inside, your hands quick to wrap around his neck. 

You moan into the kiss, his middle finger starting to rub circles against your clit as his tongue wrestles with yours aggressively, making it hard for you to breathe with the sudden pleasure of it all. Another loud moan escapes your lips when he inserts two digits inside you, his long fingers hitting your spot in an instant. 

“Koushi,” you gasp, the pace of his fingers moving in and out of you was still slow but it hit just the perfect spot so well that you become a whimpering mess, desperate for him to go faster. He looks at you as you fist the bedsheets, leaving your hole empty as he plays with your clit again. 

It was obvious that he took confidence on the magic his fingers did to you, and although the night was all about you he can’t help but palm himself through his shorts as you cry for his name, his thumb abusing your clit so much that you’re quivering underneath his touch. 

He groans before sinking down between your legs, his hand he used to palm himself with now holding your leg still while he used his elbow to restrain the other to keep your legs wide open for his feast, all the while fucking you senseless with his mere fingers. 

“Koushi- ah- I’m cumming,” you manage to say, and he speeds up the pace of his fingers, splotchy noises filling the room along with your moans. Your walls start to spasm and your nails now dug on the skin of his wrist, he knew you were really about to cum. 

He pulls his fingers out of you just a second before your release, “no!” You cry, tears blurring your vision. “Koushi, no,” you plead, but your cunt was clenching around nothing anymore as he brought his fingers inside his mouth to taste you. 

“Koushi,” you’re crying now, about to touch yourself but he stops you. 

“Be still,” he says, before sinking your underwear further downwards. “Koushi why, you- you said you were going to take care of me,” you sob, and he coos at you from between your legs. 

Sugawara Koushi knew just how to take care of you, he’ll redeem himself of your rejected orgasm later on when he pounds mercilessly inside of you and gives you what you deserve. 

He may have seemed sadistic to you, he knew that, but what he also knew was that he was going to make this the best night of your life after days of tiring workloads, so your crying now would all be worth it in the end, he’ll make sure of it. 

He lifts your leg up over his shoulder before he kisses your cunt open-mouthedly, your clit twitching against the inside of his lips and your toes curl. You were up for the real deal though the moment he started using his tongue, pressing the wet muscle flat against your hole before running it all the way up your clit. 

You whimper as you grip on his hair, your legs fighting to tightly wrap themselves around his head but he has them remained wide open, his tongue mercilessly flicking your clit over and over again and applying more pressure every second. 

He sucks on every inch of your folds, collecting your wetness at the tip of his tongue before swallowing them. An especially loud moan fills his ears the moment he slides his tongue inside of you, so he continues to thrust his tongue in and out, occasionally lapping on your folds before inserting his tongue inside all over again. 

The knot on your stomach grew tighter as he draws his thumb to rub your clit frantically, your walls clenching around his tongue and your ankles coming to lock around his waist. “I’m close, ah, Koushi, I’m close, it feels so good,” you moan, tightening your grip on his hair to the point that it hurt him. 

With one last flick on your clit and the curling of his tongue inside you, you finally get to cum, Suga making sure to prolong your orgasm for as long as he can by rubbing your clit harder while he sucked on your release that dirtied the sheets and the corners of his lips. 

Once he got you all cleaned up with his mouth, he lifts himself up and hovers over you, “good girl,” he smiles, before leaning in to kiss you. 

He groans into the kiss when you palm him, and just as you expected, he pulls away and holds your hand to stop you. “Isn’t it about time we took care of that, Koushi?” You smile up at him, and at the sound of your worn out voice from all the moaning and sobbing, his cock twitches. 

He couldn’t even stop himself as he grinds himself against your thigh, resting his forehead against yours. “Fill me up with that pretty cock of yours, Koushi,” you whisper, and you don’t have to say anything more before he pushes your legs wide open once more. 

“Of course, I’ll take care of you until the sun comes up.”  

Thank the heavens it was the weekend after that. 

________________________________

General Taglist [Open]: @noyasbitchh​ 

[sideblogformindtrash]

Unmmm.. ... could we see sunshine being interrogated by either a whumper cop or caretaker cop?? Dealers choice??? 👀🥺🥺🥺

Sunshine -q

I hope all the years watching Criminal Minds and law and order pay off. 

CW: Interrogation scene; cop whumper(quite mild tbh he just a jackass); death mention; police custody; anxiety; dehumanization; thirsty/starvation; psychological pressure; past abuse mention; conditioning; cage;  fear of punishment; pet whump;

 …The room is cold. His heavy collar is attached to a metal table. He has been left here for a while. They left a bottle of water on the table, and his throat is dry… But he can’t have it. It’s there, tempting him, but he wasn’t given permission.

Honestly, he is glad to be alone. All those people, the noise… He was yanked outside of his home, stuffed into a car and driven here. And the worst part is, he doesn’t know if he will be allowed to go home.

He doesn’t know if he has a home anymore.

He scrubbed those tiles until his hands couldn’t anymore… And it wasn’t enough. It was still dirty and red…

And Miss Abby didn’t wake up.

She would never wake up.

…He cleaned a tear. He wasn’t allowed to cry.

The heavy door opened, a man in uniform entered, carrying some files. He pulled the chair, the loud screeching sound made him flinch. He kept his eyes down.

“Sunflower, it that correct?” The cop says, not really looking at him.

“Yes, Sir” he licks his lips, hoping they get a little less dry. He hoped he would be allowed some water soon.

“Alright then, Sunflower. Let’s recall the events of that night” the man leans against the chair, tapping the back of a pen against the clipboard “Tell me everything you can remember”

…He opens his mouth, closes it, shakes his head.

“P-please don’t… Sir… Please… I’ll be good… I… I can’t, can’t…”

“You have to” Angry, demanding voice. Sunflower whimpers, recoiling “It’s on your own best interest to collaborate with our investigation, Pet.”

“Sir…”

“Speak. What happened?”

He bites back the sobs. He eyes at the water… It would help him swallow the tears, but the cop ignores his looks. He doesn’t have the courage to plea with words.

“…I… I was… at my cage”

“Sleeping?”

“No!” He shakes his head desperately “Not allowed. I was good, I swear. I didn’t sleep”

…The cop raises an eyebrow and writes it down.

“So you were awake all along?”

“Yes! I was good. Please”

“…Right. Keep going”

“Hm…  There were noises”

“What noises, Sunflower?” the man sighed, seeming annoyed.

“Things falling and breaking… And… Mr Abby screamed…”

The cop notes that down.

“Didn’t you think of checking?”

He hugs himself, pressing further against the chair. He doesn’t even like sitting on one but they ordered him to.

“I can only leave my cage if, if Miss Abby allow…”

“But you left anyway”

He flinches. He did, he left, he was bad and disobeyed.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry, I was just scared, I can’t, I-“

“Shut up” The man snaps. He isn’t allowed to cry, but a tear falls anyway “Why took you so long to leave the cage? And why you did?”

Sunflower doesn’t answer. He looks down at his hands, bandaged now. Some woman wrapped them for him, and gave him water. He wants water now. It’s there, right there, but he wasn’t allowed…

“I made you a question”

“S-s-sorry” he whimpered, snapping back “Sorry”

“…Alright. Why didn’t you leave the cage when you heard noises?”

“Not… Not allowed” he repeated.

“But the situation was unusual, wasn’t it?” the cop pressured “Didn’t you think you might need to check? Tell me what were you thinking”

“…I… I thought it could be a test, Sir”

“A test?”

He nodded. The man kept scribbling, then leaned forward. Too close.

“She… Sometimes did things to see… If I would obey and… And I thought… She was testing me”

“Then why did you leave the cage later?”

“…T-the door”

“What does that mean?”

… Angry. The man was angry, towering over him. He whimpered. Was he going to be punished now, because he left the cage?  He was bad, he knew. But…

“…B-b-back door It, it creaks a little” he whimpered “And… all was quiet after that…”

“Just the back door? That’s all you heard?”  The cop exhaled, even more annoyed than before “Come on. Use you pretty head Pet. You aren’t giving me a lot to work with”

…He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to recall that. Bad night. A tear fell down over his  hands. He was being bad, even now.

“…Ah… The neighbors… They… Their car… and dog… Dog barking”

…The man leaned back on the chair. Sunflower was glad, he didn’t like the cop to be close.

“Alright. Then, you decided to check, correct?”

“Yes… It… Was too quiet” he whimpered “And Miss… Miss didn’t close the door. Didn’t went upstairs… She was sleeping on the floor”

“…But she wasn’t sleeping now, was she, Pet?”

“Sleeping… But wouldn’t wake up”

“Dying. She was dying pet. Didn’t you think of helping her?”

“Blood” he whimpered. He couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, and started to sob.

“What is it, Pet?”

“S-s-she… Was, was red... –b-blood” he whimpered again “W-wouldn’t wake up… W-w-wouldn’t…”

‘You didn’t call anyone Sunflower? DIdn’t try and ask for help?”

“C-c-can’t… Not allowed…”

“It was obvious your Mistress needed it, Sunflower. You failed her”

“N-n-no…. I… Not allowed to… To call… Or… Didn’t… Didn’t  know how…”

“Was she mean to you, Sunflower? You have quite a collection of bruises”

The pet raises his eyes slowly, trembling. The man is smiling now, maliciously.

“She… She was my Master, my owner. I, I j-just wanted to see her happy”

“Happy? Yet you didn’t try to help her when she needed you?”

“S-s-sorry” his voice was just a low squeak at this point. It was… It was his fault? He should’ve done something. He should! But… But he wasn’t allowed. He was at the cage, and Mistress would’ve been so mad…

“Did you want her to die, maybe?” He didn’t! He would never want for that. He just, just didn’t want to get hurt, to be a bad pet and disobey, he just wanted to be good! He couldn’t speak, the sobs chocking his words… “Is that why you didn’t call for help? Because you were actually glad she was gone, Pet? Because you wanted her to-“

“Enough!”

Both turn. Another person entering the room, dressed in suit and tie, carrying even more folders and paper. They pull the other chair, and Sunflower flinches again.

“I’m Dr. Smith, I’m here representing the Pet- Excuse me, Sunflower’s case” the person smiles at him, way more sympathetic than the cop. Sunflower doesn’t like people… Not at all. But this time, he is glad he is no longer alone “Sunflower, you don’t have to answer anything without talking to me first. I’ll handle the questioning, alright?”

He quietly nodded. Does… does that mean he doesn’t need to speak anymore?

“It appears you’ve been trying to coerce information out of my client” they speak directly to the cop, who folds their arms sighs.

“I want just politely asking your client why he didn’t call for help”

…Sunflower opens his mouth to answer again, but the attorney silences him with a gesture.

“Simply because he is a Pet. They aren’t trained to deal with situations like that. In fact, if anything, they are trained to ignore the common sense” Dr. Smith smiles, looking at him “Sunflower, dear, you are allowed to have that water”

“T-t-thank you” he whimpers, relieved washing over him. He takes the bottle, nervously.

“…Yes, you may drink it from the bottle. Is alright”

The cop raises an eyebrow. Sunflower doesn’t even care, he is just glad he can drink – push back the tears a little, and soothe his dry throat.

“See?” The attorney says “It’s obvious you aren’t prepared to handle Pets”

…The cop scribbles that too. Sunflower holds onto the bottle, nearly empty now. He doesn’t want to put it back on the table, doesn’t want it taken away again. He chews on the lid, nervously, the tension between the two other people growing.

“Right” the cop sighed “You client was found cleaning the crime scene. Any evidence we could have gathered from there is now contaminated”

“My client has little understanding of how investigations go. He was cleaning because” the attorney fumbled through the files “…It seems here Miss Abby has a history of compulsive behavior, mostly regarding cleaning. She has even talked about it in some of her own videos. It’s not a surprise her Pet was trained to clean. If anyone is to blame for this, is the training company responsible for his conditioning, which did not gave him adequate tools to navigate a situation like this”

The cop rolled his eyes.

“…Do you know how long it was before someone else found you, Sunflower?”

He shot a nervous glance at the attorney.

“You can answer this one, if you know”

“…An… Was… Was morning. The neighbor dog wouldn’t stop barking… Not since… night”

“Right. That’s what the neighbors told us. They came to check why the dog wouldn’t calm down and found the back door to Abby’s house was open” The cop sighed “…You didn’t see the person at all, that’s right?”

…Sunflower just nodded.

The cop got up, the chair noise making him flinch yet again.

“…Dismissed. For now.”

The cop left leaving him alone with the attorney. They had a sympathetic smile.

“…Don’t worry, I’m sure you are a good boy Sunflower”

“…Good?” he asked, incredulous “M-miss Abby… What… what happens now?”

“…First, we need to handle the criminal case. You’ll have to collaborate with me, but if you are a good pet and help me understand what happened, I’ll handle the rest” the person had a kind smile. He wasn’t sure he believed it “You are in custody of the estate for now”

“And… after…?”

“It depends a lot of how things play out. But I’m sure it will go well. We will find you a nice, kind new owner afterwards” Dr. Smith gently tapped at his shoulder “Now… I need you to tell me what went on. Don’t worry, you are not in trouble, I just need to know”

“N-not a-a-again… Please…” He whimpered… A head pat. Soft. He peeked up.

“I know it’s stressful, Sun. But you are a good boy, aren’t you?” he nodded. He wanted to be a good boy, at least “…You can take your time too, okay? Just try and tell me everything”

…He took a deep breath, wanting to cry. He would have to go through it all… Again. He just wanted to go home. But he didn’t have a home anymore.

…The attorney put something on the table. A cereal bar.

“Go ahead, you can have it. I know it’s stressful” they smiled “But I’m here to help. So let’s work together, okay?”

…He nodded. He picked up the thing, slowly chewing. It was good but… He wasn’t really hungry. He felt nauseous still, the imagery of the night playing over and over on his head.

[jisungsmochi]

stay - mark lee

mark and reader - best friend to lovers trope oops ft. supportive friend donghyuck (who is the mvp in this entire thing tbh) 

inspired by the friendship of caroline and stefan during seasons 5 and 6 of the vampire diaries. i hope my fellow tvd fans can see where i was going with this! 

n e wayz, this is pretty angsty and could be triggering so warnings: death mentioned, lots of grief and mentions of a car accident. 

word count: 4.8k 

without further ado, please enjoy and tell me what you think hehe 

a/n: anyone else love kick it era mark? oop 

//

“i’m so sorry for your loss” you heard the doctors speak to your parents. you hid behind the walls of your brother’s hospital room, eavesdropping on the conversation. your heart immediately stopped; this wasn’t possible. you had just seen him today. jisung wasn’t gone.

your parents were sobbing, you could hear the heartbroken cries from your mother. the doctors were equally distraught,

“i understand this is a very difficult time. please grieve with your family, again, my sincerest apologies” you dropped the bottle of water you were holding and bolted out of the room. you slammed yourself against the nearest wall and cried. you cried until your body ached, until your lungs were begging for more air. he wasn’t gone. jisung wasn’t gone. he was a fighter. you kept chanting in your head.

“y/n! what are you doing?” you heard donghyuck exclaim, instantly dropping to the ground with you.

“he’s gone, hyuck. he’s gone!” you wail, digging your nails into your palms.

donghyuck just held you in his arms, like nothing else truly mattered. he kept repeating “i’m sorry” to you, but he didn’t have anything to be sorry about. it wasn’t his fault.

“how’s mark?” you had the courage to finally speak.

“he’s...recovering. he’s refused to see the rest of us. i actually came to see if you were still around, maybe you could talk to him” donghyuck sighed, still brushing fingers through your hair. mark was your best friend. you would do anything for him. he was always there for you when you needed him to be. he always gave you crappy advice, which, 40% of the time actually worked. he drove you to school almost every day....your mind started drifting away,

driving.

a wreckless mistake can cause so much damage.

few hours ago

mark and jisung were driving home from basketball practice, as they had both recently started training together for a local team. it was fairly dark out, and mark didn’t want jisung to skate back home.

“just get in the car, jisung! there aren’t any girls to impress with your little skateboard” mark teased, watching as the younger boy just rolled his eyes and got into the car.

“i’m not trying to impress any girls” jisung huffs, putting on his seatbelt.

“you mean, one girl” mark smirked, knowing of his little crush on a girl in his maths class.

“shut up!” jisung blushed, turning on the radio to listen to some music.

“is it okay if we drive around for a bit longer? things at home aren’t so, well calm, i guess you can say” jisung mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

“oh okay, but are you sure you don’t want to go home? whatever it is, it can’t be too bad” mark just gulped, his thoughts wandering to you. were you okay?

“i’m sure, my parents are just arguing and well y/n doesn’t get to hear much of it because she’s always at the library or work or hanging with you guys! it’s hard just being at home, alone” jisung confides in the older boy, which led mark to have a warm feeling inside.

“thank you for trusting me, jisung! of course we can drive around, as long as you pick the songs!” mark tried to make jisung smile, even if it was the tiniest bit.  jisung nodded along, turning up the volume.

they were driving along the highway, which wasn’t as busy as it usually was. the boys were laughing, telling stories of their random experiences from school. mark swore his eyes were off the road for a second, when suddenly, another car’s headlights blinded the two boys. mark tried to swerve to the side of the road, but it was too late, the other car crashed into the passenger side, causing his car to spiral.

mark reached for the younger boy’s hand, before his vision become blurry, knocking him out.

now he laid, staring at the ceiling of the hospital room. reliving that moment over and over. replaying it. how he could have saved him. how it should have been him.

mark lee was always seen as a protector to his friends. he was a natural leader. the one who always stood up for others. but right now, in this moment, he felt like a failure. he was ashamed. he couldn’t face you. no matter how many times the rest of the boys came over, telling him how distraught you were. mark refused to see you. every time he heard your voice behind the curtain, he moved to his side and pretended he was asleep.

one night, you snuck into his room, without warning him. you stared at his injuries, he looked miserable. he was in pain. your heart broke.

“mark” you whispered. the boy had his eyes closed and laid to his side again. you sighed, taking a seat next to his bed.

“i don’t know if you’re pretending or not. but i don’t like how you’ve been ignoring me. jisung is gone. i miss him. i miss you. i want to talk to you. mark, you’re the only person i need right now. please talk to me. i will wait for you. just please” you sobbed into your hands. mark’s heart ached to hear you cry. he hated when you cried. but he couldn’t get himself to just turn around and look at you.

“goodbye mark, i’ll see you soon” you whispered, giving up at that point. you stumbled out of the room, and walked towards the exit. you passed the room, jisung was in. and your eyes immediately teared up.

a few months went by, you were trying to get yourself back on track. it was graduation soon. you and your friends were beyond excited. you all needed something good to distract from the events.

“guys we made it!” jeno smiled, as they all huddled in a circle.

“i can’t believe jaemin was able to pass bio” renjun smirked, nudging the boy.

“i can’t believe it either mate” jaemin chuckled, along with everyone else. how you’d wish mark was here to see you graduate. he was always there. no matter what. you were all aware that mark had been discharged from the hospital. after that last night, you tried to see him again, but you saw someone else occupying his room. you heart sank, at the thought that mark had yet to speak one word to you in months. not even a message or call. nothing.

“anything you wanna say, y/n?” donghyuck pulls you closer to him, sending you had zoned out.

“i’m so proud of us, we got through some tough times together. thank you all, so so much” you felt a tear threaten to leave your eye,

“oh please don’t cry! it makes me wanna cry” jaemin pouted,

“group hug you losers!” renjun yelled as you all embraced eachother.

after graduation, things settled down. you, donghyuck and renjun were packing to move out of town for college, while jaemin and jeno were staying behind to take a gap year. things were finally going back to being normal, except, you hadn’t heard from mark since the accident.

you all were hanging out at donghyuck’s house, chatting away about your future plans and what you all wanted to achieve by this time next year.

“jaemin and i wanna start our own sports club! something fun to do during summers and we get to teach kids!” jeno excitedly explained,

“suits you guys so well! i’m so happy for you” you smile at him before getting ready to share your plans.

“this time next year i’d hope to have survived first year college stress and also, not be so sad anymore” your smile faded, as the boys solemnly looked at you.

“i miss him guys” you mutter, your words becoming softer.

“we miss both of them” donghyuck puts his arm around you. you both looked up and saw the other boys fidgeting. they looked uneasy.

“what’s up you guys?” you wipe away a small tear that stained your cheek. you prepared yourself for what they had to say,

“i don’t know how else to tell you but i spoke to mark, well the three of us did” renjun began talking, your eyes widened at his words.

“what do you mean you guys talked to him? where the fuck is he? why didn’t he come see all of us?” you screwed, visibly distraught at what you had heard. donghyuck held you back, knowing you weren’t truly angry at the boys.

“he came by one day when we were shooting hoops. he told us he was leaving town. he didn’t say where he was going” jaemin continued, the three boys sitting across from you had the most sympathetic expressions on their faces, you couldn’t be mad at them.

“he didn’t say anything about me?” you barely spoke above a whisper, watching as the three shook their heads simultaneously.

“that dick” donghyuck exclaims, letting go of your figure. he stood up and began pacing.

“he just left her. he left y/n, alone. he’s known her longer than any of us and just left. he’s a dick” the boy balled his fists.

“we know, we too, don’t understand why he’s gone. but what else can we do? he’s pretty much dropped off the face of the earth” jeno sighed, holding his head in his hands.

“i hate him” you raise your voice, everyone immediately draws their eyes to you and goes silent.

“y/n, no you don’t. you don’t hate mark” renjun muttered, trying to not let this escalate.

“i hate him! i hate him so much! i hate him for leaving me. i hate him for ignoring me. i hate him for letting me fall inlove with him”  you whimper at the last few words. holding your hands over your chest, tears staining your cheeks.

the boys knew of how you felt about mark. it wasn’t so discrete. you thought of him as more than a friend, but you never thought you stood a chance. he was seen as a brother to you. but you already had a brother. you wanted mark, you wanted him to hold you when you were upset. you wanted him to be the one to comfort you during dark times. you wanted him to wake you up in the mornings with small kisses. but you would never get that. because mark lee was selfish. he was a coward. he just left.

you swore to yourself you wouldn’t contact him. but when you looked all around your room, pictures of you and mark and your silly adventures were plastered everywhere. you wanted to take them down, but some photos had jisung in them, you didn’t have the guts to remove any photos, it would have hurt too much.

you broke your promise to yourself, you continued to send mark voicemails every single day for a month. you wished him well, and that he was safe and happy. you hoped that he had found new friends and was living a great new life. you spoke about your days, and what you did. knowing that he may not even have the same phone or number. speaking out your thoughts still helped in a way. even if the other end was completely radio silent.

you were scribbling down the last sentences of your notes for class the next day, when you hear your phone ringing.

“yes, hyuck?” you answer, closing up your notebook and placing your stationery back in its usual place.

“i know this sounds crazy, but i think i know where mark is” he blurts out. you stop completely in your tracks, unsure of where he was going with this.

“how did you- when? what?” was all you could say.

“some of my second year friends, kept mentioning, a new kid named mark that has been hanging around at their parties. they aren’t sure if he goes to the same college as us, but he’s definitely a lot closer than we thought” donghyuck explains to you over the phone, you were stringing along with every word.

“where is he then?” you started biting at your nails, feeling a wave of anxiousness wash over you.

“he’s roommates with a guy named lucas, we can go there on the weekend if you want. i got their address” donghyuck waited for you to respond, but you were just in shock. not only did you think you would never see mark again, he was only staying a few towns away. that broke you down even more.

you decided to send one last voicemail to mark that night.

“i still don’t know if you even listen to these. but i’m coming to see you mark. you’ve hurt me so much, and you’re not even physically here to do it. you know how fucked up that is? i can’t wait to see what excuses you have for me, but i will not hold back”

saturday morning rolled around and donghyuck was at the front of your house, waiting in his car. you rushed out, bidding a goodbye to your parents and jumped into his car.

“ready for the road?” donghyuck flashed you a smile, waiting as you nodded, before starting the engine and driving off to the mysterious destination.

the whole drive there, you felt sick to your stomach. you weren’t sure what you would say to mark. you weren’t sure if you would even be able to speak. you might have just cried the moment he opened the door.

“we’re here” donghyuck cut out your thoughts. you both exited the car and made your way to the apartment. your nerves were going through the roof, you hoped mark was there, you really did.

donghyuck sensed your nerves, he gave you a tight hug before knocking on the door himself.

it took a few seconds before you heard footsteps. the door swung open and you were greeted by a tall boy with tanned skin and light brown hair. he was wearing a white t-shirt and black shorts, you assumed it was lucas.

“may i help you guys?” he asks kindly,

“we’re...friends, uh of mark” you spoke, watching as he nodded.

“i didn’t know he had friends coming over! i was just heading out, he’s in his room right now, feel free to come in! i’ll call him” lucas smiled widely, opening the door wider. you felt your heart pound in your chest. you were about to face the boy who brought you so much pain in the past few months.

“markie! you got some friends here for ya!” lucas yelled while pretty much slamming on his door.

“what do you mean friends?” you heard the familiar voice ring through your ears. you watched as the same boy, walked into the living area. his hair was now raven black, compared to his chestnut brown colour, you were far too familiar with. his face immediately became pale. lucas stares between the two of you, raising his eyebrows in confusion,

“this is kinda awkward, i’m gonna go now, see you guys, have fun catching up”

mark just gave him a small wave before walking towards you. donghyuck stood behind you, ready in case you couldn’t handle your emotions.

“what are you doing here?” his voice was so cold. he was so straight forward. you wanted nothing more but for him to hold you and say he’s sorry.

“really?” was all you could choke out at that moment. you saw his eyes shift around the room, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“i’m gonna leave you two to talk” donghyuck states as he moves to the kitchen, mark leads you to his room, closing the door behind you both.

“i can’t believe you” you stutter, crossing your arms, watching as he sits on his bed.

“what? y/n? you can’t believe what? that i actually have a good life right now?” mark groans at you. this may have been the first time you’ve seen him so distraught.

“what happened to you? did you not get my messages? my voicemails?” you whimper, he refused to even look at you.

“i couldn’t listen to them. you know that” mark muttered, turning his head to look at you.

“why did you leave?” you sighed, moving to sit next to him, leaving a fair space between you two.

“i couldn’t stay. i couldn’t stay in that town when everything bad that happened to all of us, was my fault” mark’s voice was unsteady. he couldn’t control the sobs that wanted to escape.

“what do you mean?” you wanted to hold his hand, touch him in any way you could.

“i killed him, y/n. how can you forgive me? how can you still care for me?” mark looked right into your eyes, his were glossed over in tears. the dark circles under his eyes and his messy hair, didn’t indicate he was living his best life.

“you did not kill, jisung. you got hurt too” you move to sit right against him, your shoulders touching.

“i did though. i’m the one to blame. jisung didn’t want to go home that night because your parents were fighting. he wanted an escape. i should have still taken him home. i shouldn’t have gone on that route through town. it was all my fault” mark whimpered, tears flowing out of his eyes. you placed your hand over his. your eyes beginning to stream tears of your own.

“oh mark lee, you could have never predicted that something that terrible could have happened. no body blames you” you held his head to your chest, letting his tears trickle down your shirt.

“i didn’t want to leave you, you know” he sniffled. you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you.

“but you still did. you hurt me, mark. real bad. i hated you at one point. i thought we were stronger than that” you sighed, brushing your fingers through his hair. he pulled himself up to look at you.

“i’m sorry” he mumbled, pulling his face closer to yours.

“it’s okay” you were speechless, you had never been so close to him. he stared into your eyes, flickering down to your lips.

“i’m inlove with you” you mumble, ready to press your lips together. mark stopped you, pulling himself back.

“i- i can’t” he stood up and turned his back to you.

“what?” you grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face you again. he got slightly taller, or maybe it was because you hadn’t seen him in so long.

“i can’t love you like that. i’ve hurt you too much. you deserve better than me. i can’t” mark runs his fingers through his hair. you were more frustrated than ever,

“you’re right, i do deserve better than you. go fuck yourself” you grit through your teeth, before landing a loud smack to his face. he tried to chase after you, but you were already out the door. donghyuck was about to follow you when he bumped into mark.

“look here buddy, you fucked with her heart so bad. i don’t care what you said to her, but she would die for you. she would have done anything for you. she cried almost every day for a month after graduation, because she wanted you there for her” donghyuck shoved the older boy, so that his back hit the nearest wall.

“you don’t know how much pain she’s been through, and all she wanted was for her best friend, to be there for her. and you couldn’t even do that. you’re a coward mark lee. she’s inlove with you. and i know you are too. i know you want to protect her, but she’s desperate for your love again. so cut this act and be a decent human. for her sake. please” donghyuck finishes, not waiting for mark to respond before chasing you to his car. you had already sat in the passenger seat and began crying hysterically.

“it’s okay sweets, he will come to his senses soon” donghyuck pulls you in for a quick side hug, before starting the car.

you were too broken. and you weren’t sure if anything could fix you.

a week had passed since that dreaded day. you had barely left your house. it was exactly like the week after jisung passed, all over again. your parents weren’t sure if they should push you to tell them what was wrong. you were glad they thought that, it kept you from talking about your feelings for mark. even if he was a complete ass to you, you couldn’t get rid of years of emotions.

you were laying in your bed, rewatching the vampire diaries for the thousandth time, finally getting up to parts where stefan and caroline were almost in the same situation as you and mark. you groaned at how painful it was to watch. you shut your laptop, and sighed, you hadn’t showered in a while. as you were getting ready, you heard a faint knock on your door. you assumed it was one of your parent’s, checking up on you.

“come in!” you yell, grabbing your stuff in your arms. the door opened slowly, you heard the person cough slightly, knowing it wasn’t your parents, you froze.

“uh hey” mark’s voice echoed through your room. you glared at him, ready to shove past him and tell him to leave. but as you approached him, he grabbed your wrist. you groaned, tears ready to stream. you started banging his chest, mumbling hurtful words to him. he knew you that what you were saying was true. he didn’t deny anything. he held both your wrists, not wanting you to punch him anymore. you just balled your fists, pushing your head into his chest. he let go of your wrist and pulled you into his chest completely. he stroked your hair gently, mumbling “i’m so sorry baby” over and over again. you felt your arms wrap around his torso. you weren’t sure what you were feeling at that moment, but it wasn’t complete hatred or anger for him. he was always going to be your mark lee.

“i’m sorry baby” he muttered, before you looked up at him. his eyes were red, indicating he was crying before he even entered your room.

“baby?” you mumble. not once in your entire friendship, sort of not friendship, did he call you baby.

“yes. i’m a little too late but, i’m inlove with you, y/n. i know i pushed you away, i didn’t want to. i hope you trust me on that. i didn’t want to hurt you, but i did it anyway. i didn’t want you to think about me anymore. you could have been happier without me. you could have made new friends! gotten new interests, become a new you. i didn’t know that you needed me that much” he stuttered over his words, holding both your hands in his.

“i don’t know what to say” you shake your head, holding onto his hands tightly, as if he was going to just leave again.

“can i kiss you?” he pressed his forehead onto yours. your heart didn’t hurt so much anymore. you weren’t sure how you were feeling, but you weren’t opposed to the proposition. you nodded slowly, watching as mark pulled your chin up with his finger and pressed his cold lips onto yours. this wasn’t how you imagined your first kiss with mark. you dreamt of it being in his car, while you two were watching the city lights and stats like you would always do. but this feeling, was something you couldn’t stop.

you held onto his shoulder and he moved his hand to cup your cheek. he pulled away, pressing his forehead onto yours again,

“you don’t need to forgive me, ever really. i just needed to do that before anything else happened. y/n, i would do anything for you. even if that meant pushing you away so you could be happier. i’m happier with you. i am a better person with you. and if it takes me forever to prove that to you, i’ll do it, because being with you, feels like forever” mark muttered before pressing another kiss to your lips. you didn’t respond with words, instead you pulled him in by his shirt and continued to kiss him repeatedly. he led you to your bed, your back pressed against your mattress, with mark on top of you. he tried to pull away to speak but you continued to kiss him more. eventually he started chuckling,

“why are you laughing?” you smiled, still holding onto his shoulders.

“you just want to kiss! how about tell me how you feel!” he chuckled once more, causing you to roll your eyes. you pushed him back, sitting cross legged from him.

“i don’t forgive you yet, you have a lot of making up to do. but i just want you to promise me one thing” you sigh, taking his hand in yours.

“anything” he assured you, squeezing your hand in his.

“promise you won’t leave again. please. stay with me” your voice cracked, thoughts of him hurting you, coming back,

“i’m not leaving anymore baby, i’m not going to run away from my problems. i’m done with that. i’m focusing on us now” you felt more tears prickle in your eyes,

“oh no why are you crying?” he pouted, wiping away your tears.

“fuck you, you’re too fucking cute” you manage to smile, letting him know you weren’t upset.

“you’re cuter” he mutters into your temple.

“i love you, mark” you run your fingers around the palm of his hand.

“i love you too, y/n” he stroked your hair gently as you both cuddled up in your bed.

mark lee. the only boy who was your weakness. but also made you strong. he loved you like no one had ever before. he wanted to protect you from any danger that came towards your way. he needed you close, as did you. he will always be the one for you, no matter what happens.

a/n: apologies for any mistakes! mark lee got me feeling things *sigh* 

[satoruvt]

unrequited // part two

i really cannot describe how proud of this i am so please PLEASE like it lmao

pairing → bakugou katsuki x reader

word count → 1549

request → tbh, ur a writing qween™ and i can think of no other than to write this prompt. so i’m a sucker for angst and unrequited love; katsuki’s childhood best friend developing feelings for him and falling in love with him for years, but she hides it rlly well all the way into UA, she introduces him to her other friend one time out of chance (she’s just perfect and everything reader isn’t or is insecure about) and he ends up falling for her friend while being oblivious to her own feelings for him? :)

song inspo → medicine by au/ra

The days were hard.

Barely paying attention in class, scraping by on assignments and challenges from the teachers. You’re not on your best game anymore - anyone could see that (and everyone did; Sero and Mina had more than once asked if you were okay). Some days were easier, numbed by your friends’ laughter and Denki’s failed attempts at asking you out; the ache wasn’t as bad. Some days you’d even left class and thought you were over it. Most days were horrible, a Greek tragedy of heartbreak, locking yourself in the bathroom when you saw Katsuki with your friend. The worst times are when your friends tell you to go out with them - to an arcade, to see a movie - and Katuski’s there (with or without her, it doesn’t matter), because all you can think about is how much you want him and how he doesn’t notice.

The nights were worse, though.

It’s the only time you really have to yourself, so you lock yourself in your room. Sometimes you don’t even cry - too exhausted from the day’s trials or out of tears for the next little while. You do whatever homework you have, then lay on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. You switch between searing pain and unforgiving emptiness. One is not better than the other. 

It works, though, right? For them to be together? Your friend is kind and beautiful, always willing to help and never not smiling. She’s responsible and a good leader; cooperative and pragmatic. She’s everything you’re not; you’re not levelheaded or collected - half the time you have no goddamn clue what you’re doing. God, anyone would be stupid not to find some reason to like her. Even Katsuki, who didn’t really seem to like anyone. 

You shouldn’t feel like this. It’s not as if you and him were together - it’s not a break up, you didn’t necessarily have something to lose from him getting a crush, but Christ, it feels that way. Is Katsuki that deep under your skin? Are you that fucking in love with him - that even when you two weren’t together, the weight on your chest is almost suffocating?

It’s movie night tonight. When you walk out into the common room, most of the class is already there; Kirishima and Todoroki were tasked with popping popcorn in the kitchen, it seems, the two of them talking in front of the microwave. The smell of fatty butter is comforting; maybe you can let go for tonight. If you don’t think about it, it can’t hurt you, right? Sure.

Mina waves you over and you plop down next to her on the sofa. Her grin is infectious and you can’t help but offer a smile back, listening as she starts to go on a rant about the last scenario Mr. Aizawa had the class run through. She gets distracted, however, instead choosing the kitchen for her choice of new victims.

You’re looking over the choices for the movie tonight (Wait, you think, who the hell put down Barbie Fairytopia?) when a gruff voice speaks from the entrance of the common room.

“Bakugou! You decided to show up!”

“Yeah, whatever. I didn’t have anything else to do.”

Oh.

You turn your head on instinct, your brain still used to being able to pick him out of a crowd. Your eyes meet with his and your heart is aching, oh, no. You look away before anything can be said. You haven’t talked to him since that night, and you don’t plan to until you’re fully over him. It wouldn’t be good for either of you.

It’s not long before everyone is settling down on the sofas and the floor, passing around bowls of popcorn candy. You’re sat between Izuku and Kirishima, Katsuki being on the other side of Kirishima. He’s not close enough that he can do anything - good or bad - to you, but your heart is still hammering through your chest. 

“Oh, Y/N. Do you want me to move so you can sit next to Bakugou?” Kirishima asks, and you know Katsuki’s listening by the swift glance he gives in your direction. You offer a small smile and shake your head.

“Nah, it’s alright. Don’t trouble yourself.”

The movie is eventually decided - after a bit of yelling and maybe a punch or two thrown - and ends up being that scary one about the clown. You push a handful of Sour Patch Kids into your mouth as the movie starts, trying not to think about the fact that this is the closest you’ve been to Katsuki in almost a week. Jesus.

“Hey, Bakugou. Switch seats with me, I can’t see.”

What?

“What the fuck? Deal with it. Not my fault you chose to sit there.”

“Just do it!”

Kirishima is shushed by Iida, and in turn gives him a sorry smile. From the corner of your eye you see him turn to Katsuki again and then the two of them are moving and oh shit he’s right next to you now he -

You’re sure that Katsuki can sense that you’ve tensed up, but you really can’t bring yourself to care, rather focusing on the fact that it’s suddenly very hard to be around him. Oh God, oh God, ohgodohgod -

“Y/N?” Izuku whispers from your other side, and you turn to look at him stiffly. His eyes are concerned, and you swallow. “Are you okay?”

It takes you a moment to respond, to actually think of words that aren’t get me out of here. “Yeah, I…” you pause. Your chest is full of not-butterflies, moths. “I’m just not feeling well. I think I’m gonna head back to my room.”

Izuku nods, sending you a sympathetic smile. “Do you need any help getting -”

“I’ll help her,” Katsuki says, and you shiver in your spot. His voice is loud against the movie, but when Iida shushes him, he just rolls his eyes.

“No,” you start, and you can’t look at him in the eyes. “It’s okay, I’ll -”

“Don’t be stupid.”

His voice is demanding, but not cold. You know you can’t argue with him. You nod, then, telling your thanks to Izuku before you get up. You’re fast as you walk to the elevator, hoping you can get this over with. Your lungs can’t take this; blooming roses and thorns with every breath.

The elevator ride up to your room is silent. Katsuki has his hands in his pockets, but he’s looking at you - waiting for you to speak, maybe. You don’t care. You just need to get to your room.

When you get to your door, shaky hands pulling out your key, a hand on your wrist stops you.

“What’s going on?” Katsuki asks, but it’s more of a demand than an inquiry. 

“Nothing,” you say on instinct. He scoffs.

“You haven’t talked to me in a few days. Haven’t even looked at me. What the fuck is happening with you?”

Should I tell him?

“I said nothing, Katsuki,” you say, and you hate that your voice is pleading. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.”

Would it change anything?

Your door is open, and you start to head inside, but Katsuki pulls it closed again. Fuck. His gaze is intense, fiery, as he looks at you, and you feel the tears coming. You will them away - just a little while longer. 

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“No.”

“Y/N, I swear to God -”

You look up at him from your feet, hoping he’ll just drop it. “What, Katsuki? What are you gonna do?”

Both of you know nothing will happen. But he’s growing angrier by the minute - you see it in his eyes - and one of you has got to give in.

“Tell me.” Katsuki repeats. His hand comes to press against the door, next to your head. He’s caging you in, if he doesn’t leave, then -

“I can’t,” you whimper. Your gaze returns to the floor. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

You’ve gone too far, now.

“Why the hell would you lose me?”

When you look up at Katsuki again, you’re crying. You wipe the tears away hopelessly, wetting your sleeves and fingertips.

“Because I love you,” you choke out, and your voice is barely above a whisper. “I’m in love with you, Katsuki.”

The words fall off of your lips like a waterfall. You thought it’d be harder, you thought it’d be screaming and throwing things and him walking out but it’s quiet, so quiet in the hallway. You can only hear your choked sobs because God, it’s over, isn’t it? Katsuki’s going to leave. 

When he leans forward, arms twisting themselves around your waist to hug you to him, you almost don’t register it. He’s so warm, and you cling to him like he’s air and you’re in the middle of space. He buries his face into your neck. The feel of him only makes you cry harder, because you miss him so much.

“Don’t cry,” Katsuki’s saying into your ear. It’s a gentle command. “I hate it when you cry. It’s okay. I…”

You will yourself to stop crying, unraveling your fingers from his shirt. You rest your forehead on his shoulder, your breaths syncing with his own. When he speaks, you hold him tighter.

“I love you too.”

[comphersjost]

Into the Storm ➸ Rafe Cameron

honestly, i wrote like the last two thirds of this high off my ass, idk if its good or not, im self conscious but im too lazy and too tired to proof read. please forgive any errors, plot holes, typos, etc, ily 

Rafe’s been helping you get over John B, when you think it’s going too far, you try to disappear into a storm,  not knowing that Rafe would follow.

words: 1.7k

warnings: uh smut, pretty lowkey smut tbh, leetle beet john b x reader, angst, storms, idk what else, this was supposed to be filth but i didnt feel like it lol

oh and it is a song fic so go ahead and listen to into the storm by banners while you read :)

as always: masterlist

If you're far from home Broken on a lonely road Helpless when the sky explodes Then I need you to know When you're 'round the bend Close your eyes and count to ten I'll walk through hell and back again Anywhere you go If your strength is falling down I'll be right beside you now And I'll keep you warm Yeah, I'll keep you warm

You felt like you were melting under the heat of Rafe’s gaze. You avoided looking at him at all costs, trying to stall the inevitable while looking for an escape plan. Rain poured down outside, the storm slowly getting worse. You and John B had surfed the surge just that morning. 

John B. 

You didn't even want to think about him right now, with the way Rafe was eyeing you like a predator. You needed to get out of here. You had to make it home before Rafe got to you because you both knew you couldn't resist him. He was addicting. 

You see your opening, weaving through the crow of people to slip out of the back door, heading for the guest house. You figured if you could hide in there long enough for the storm to pass and Rafe to stop looking for you, then you were good to go. 

“Come on, princess,” Rafe groans, annoyed as the door opens. “The guest house? It's like you're begging me to come find you, but felt like torturing me on the way.” You roll your eyes and wordlessly open one of the cabinets by the oven. 

“Here,” you say softly, tossing Rafe a towel. “Was just about to watch a movie, you can join me if you want. I'm gonna change.” 

You don't give Rafe a chance to speak before you've disappeared into the guest bedroom. When you come out, wearing a hoodie of Rafe’s and a pair of his boxers, he stares for longer than he means to, mouth open. 

“You're drooling,” you tease. Rafe brings his hand to his face, eyes narrowing and you when he realizes he wasn't actually drooling. Your voice drops to a murmur. “Stop staring.” 

You grab a soft fluffy blanket from the closet, avoiding Rafe’s eyes. 

“Baby, I could look at you forever,” he finally states, his tone serious. 

“Stop staring, Rafe,” you repeat again, softer this time. Weaker, giving in, tired of fighting. 

“I can't,” he whispers. “I'd follow you anywhere, like I followed you into the storm.”

I'll follow you into the storm Follow you into the stormI will, I will

Be with you when you call

Carry you to the dawn

I will, I will

Follow you into the storm

“Rafe…”

“Tell me you don't feel the same!” he shouts, his breathing uneven, voice quieting once more. “Tell me, that you don't miss me the second we’re apart, tell me that you can think clearly when I’m around because shit, Y/N, when you're around I can't remember my own name. Fuck, Y/N, tell me you don't love me, and I'll turn around right now and leave you alone.” 

“I - I can't,” you whisper. 

“Can't what?” 

“I can't tell you that I don't love you,” you confessed, letting him step closer to you, his nose brushing yours. “It’s just not true, Rafe.” 

“Say it then,” he challenges you. 

“I can't say it either.” 

“Say it.” 

“I can't.” 

“Say it.” 

“I CAN’T!” 

You feel like you want to cry when Rafe makes you look at him. “I love you,” he mumbles softly against your lips, giving you a feather light peck along with it. He can see it in your eyes that you want to say it back, but you just can't. So he scans your body, he hasn't seen you since the weekend before. He spots a set of three jagged parallel lines on your neck. 

“Woah, hey, what happened?” he coos, stroking the angry red lines softly, kissing your temple. 

“This rock came out of nowhere this morning when I surfed the surge,” you explained, Rafe’s concerned eyes trained on you. “I don't even know where it came from, but it knocked me off my board, John B had to help me get back to shore before I bled too much.”

You feel Rafe tense against you, and you wonder what it is that you could've said wrong until-

“John B,” Rafe says slowly, as if having been reminded of your friendship with him, and up until you met Rafe 6 months ago, the massive crush you had on him. “Right.” 

No pogue-on-pogue macking was the rule, so when Rafe caught you making heart eyes at John B across the Boneyard one day, he offered to help you out. He'd help you forget your feelings for your best friend and he “well, I get to bang one of, if not, the most eligible bachelorette on this island” Rafe had said. You'd laughed at him then, throwing a shell you'd found in the sand at him. 

“Okay, Mr. Kook Prince.” 

“That's Mr. Kook King to you.”

But that wasn't all, when you were with them, Rafe most left you and the Pogues alone, shooting you longing looks when no one was looking. And now you were here, with him in front of you, having just confessed his love. 

“You don't have anything to worry about Rafe,” you say to him, looking up into his eyes and placing your hands on his chest. “You know how I feel about you, even if-” you falter. But you know Rafe knows “-even if things aren't...totally, gone yet, with John B. You know me, Rafe and I-” Your eyes squeeze shut. You can't. 

“I know.” Rafe kisses your nose, then your lips. Pulling back too looks at you as you open your eyes. “I love you too.” 

“I'm sorry,” you whisper. 

“Baby,” Rafe’s hand tangles in your hair, bringing you in for a kiss. “You-” 

BANG! 

You flinch at the noise, instinctively retreating into Rafe’s arms while you scan your surroundings for the origin of the noise. When you come up empty, you look up at Rafe’s face and watch as it's plunged into darkness. 

“Fuck,” you say quietly, still shaking in Rafe’s arms, “Looks like the party’s over. What happens now? Don't you guys have generators? Who's gonna take care of it?” 

Rafe laughs. “Well normally, I would take care of it, but I’d rather stay here with you.” His lips are on yours before you can object, distracting you so deliciously that you could wait til morning for the generators.

So violently

Held captive by your gravity

Hold your breath and wait for me

Where the wind may blow

Through night and dark

Through fantasies that fall apart

Know you're always in my heart

Anywhere you go

You're like a drug Rafe can't quit. You're worse than the cocaine. At least coke is predictable. 

But you, he keeps coming back to you like you're the center of gravity and he can't stray too far away from you. You love John B. You’ve loved John B, for so long. And Rafe knows it. 

But when he's kissing you, when he's fucking you, when his hands are wrapped around your throat, Rafe got to pretend you loved him. And now, when he pulls you into his lap on the couch, he can't help but feel the hope bubble to the surface. 

The way you looked at him had only happened in fantasies, late at night, or when he was daydreaming about you. 

If your strength is falling down

I'll be right beside you now

And I'll keep you warm

Yeah, I'll keep you warm 

Oh, be with you when you call

Carry you till the dawn

Follow you into the storm

Anywhere that you go

Anywhere that you go

I'll follow you into the storm

Follow you into the storm

Oh, be with you when you call

Carry you to the dawn

Follow you into the storm

It's when Rafe is fucking you up against the wall that you say it. It’s then you know that you would go to any length for him. He was it for you. 

“I love you, Rafe!” 

The words are enough to make him gasp, fucking into you impossibly harder and deeper until you cum helplessly. Rafe groans as he fuck you into the wall, surely leaving bruises on your back and your hips. 

“Say it again,” he growls. 

“I love you,” you whimper softly, grasping onto his shoulders as the tip of his cock nudges your g-spot. 

“Again.” 

“I love you!” this time you cry out as Rafe adds a sharp thrust to his word. 

“Say it again, Y/N, please, say it like you mean it.” Rafe is begging now, hand falling to your clit to make you cum on his cock again. 

“I do mean it, Rafe,” you plead, turning Rafe’s jaw so he was looking you in the eye. “I mean it. I love you, Rafe Cameron.” 

Rafe stares at you for a few moments, mouth open dumbly, before his face contorts as he groans and hunches over you. You whimper and writhe against the wall and the feeling of Rafe fucking his cum into you, arching your back when he throws you into orgasm as well. His lips close around your nipple as both of you start to come down. 

Later, when your breathing and heartbeat had slowed to a normal pace, on the soft mattress of the guest house bed, Rafe speaks again. 

“I would follow you into any storm,” he whispers into the dark room, eyes trained on the ceiling as his arms tighten around you and bring you closer to his chest. “I would follow you out to sea in the middle of a god damn hurricane, Y/N.” 

You're silent for a few minutes, Rafe almost thinks you've fallen asleep. 

“I would follow you into any storm too, Rafe,” you murmur in his ear, kissing his cheek softly. “I just didn't know it until today. Thank you for following me today Rafe.” 

Rafe turns his head to look at you. 

“Now that it’s all out in the open and stuff does this mean you're my Kook Queen?”

[wordsablaze]

11~ Stitches

Magic and Misery Merlin might use magic to help Arthur but he rarely uses it to help himself, which leads to an awful lot of misery… written for whumptober, enjoy!

A/N: so this got dark? not sure what came over me tbh... btw, it’s a direct continuation of the previous prompt I did :)

-

considering the title, please be careful if you’re squeamish !! 

-

Arthur's worrying is of no help.

Unfortunately.

He'd argued with his father until he’d been sent to his room, he’d paced the polish right off his floor, and he’d thrown enough objects around for his room to look like it'd been attacked by a beast of some sort.

But none of it had helped to get Merlin back.

None of it could undo his sentence with the witchfinder.

The sentence that, while Arthur was busy worrying, Merlin was suffering through.

“No,” Merlin repeats, his voice barely some sort of hushed whisper.

He’d tried not to talk at first and, in a way, he’d succeeded.

He hadn’t confessed, but he’d whimpered.

He’d whimpered and moaned and eventually cried out when the superficial pain on his skin had started to match the oppressive pain in his very bones.

Aredian’s son was fond of blades.

“Confess!” the witchfinder snarls again, cruelly dragging the small dagger down Merlin’s arm yet again.

“Not until you do,” Merlin bites back, but his defiance is weakened by the whimper that escapes him next.

He’s not sure he can handle any more slicing into his skin, he’s not even sure he should be awake with the amount of blood that seems to be spilling out of him. The constant agony of the shackles suppressing his magic doesn’t help either.

Aredian’s son groans, throwing the dagger to the corner of the room that Merlin had been brought to earlier that morning. Apparently, surviving the night outside was a double-edged success and had only lead to more severe interrogation ‘techniques’.

Merlin winces as the metal clangs against the stone walls, letting his eyes fall shut as he leans against the cold wall. At least it provides some relief from the way his magic is literally burning to be set free inside him.

He hasn’t moved away from the wall since he’d been roughly thrown there and the chain connecting his shackles had been fixed into a bolt on the wall. There’d been no reason to aggravate Aredian’s son; his only goal is to survive, to get back to Gaius, and to carry out his duty of protecting Arthur.

He can vividly feel all of the cuts littering his unfortunate skin, all the blood that falls over his fingers and slides down his torso. It hurts in a way that he can’t describe.

“I am not without mercy,” the witchfinder declares unexpectedly.

A broken laugh escapes Merlin as he shakes his head in disbelief, not bothering to open his tired eyes. He can’t see any mercy in such a cruel kind of torture.

“I will give you one more chance to confess,” he continues, his footsteps getting louder until he stops and crouches in front of Merlin, uncomfortably close, “before I take this to the next level.”

Something infinitely sharper than any of the blades that had been used on him throughout the day touches the back of Merlin’s hand and his eyes shoot open reflexively.

No.

He must have said that out loud because the witchfinder laughs. “I can’t have you bleeding out, now, can I?”

“No, please…” Merlin mumbles, finding a little strength in the newfound fear that shoots through him and shuffling away, as far away as possible. Not far enough.

“Is that a confession?”

No.

It’s a needle.

Merlin shakes his head weakly, biting his lip as Aredian’s son scowls darkly before sighing and arranging himself better, pulling Merlin’s arm towards himself in a firm grip.

“Well, then, I’ll have to make sure you don’t die so I can continue.”

Merlin whimpers softly and squeezes his eyes shut as the needle is pressed to his arm, into his arm, into the skin right at the edge of a cut, and then pushed, pushed, painfully pushed deeper until the thread is pulled through.

He cries out immediately, trying to get his hand free, but there’s no use, the witchfinder is stronger. He makes a mockery of stitching the wound back together, unfathomable jolts of pain sparking along Merlin’s arm as he bites his lip hard enough to make it bleed.

By the time the wound is stitched back together, the witchfinder is grinning and Merlin is close to crying.

He yanks his arm back as soon as it's released and whimpers, knowing the wound could have done with a simple bandage instead. It’s almost alarming how neat the unnecessary stitches are, almost a parody of when Gaius has done the same for him in the past.

“There, see, that wasn’t so bad…” Aredian’s son drawls, close to sounding like he actually cares about keeping Merlin alive.

A small part of his brain is telling him that this is all for show, that it’s all being done so the King can’t complain and accuse the witchfinder of anything, but he’s blinded by the throbbing in his new stitches.

“You seem relieved…”

Merlin looks up sharply, cradling his arm.

Aredian’s son smirks at him. “Come on now, don’t give me that look. We’ve only just started, after all.”

“No, no, no,” Merlin breathes, shaking his head, trying to move away, failing to move away because of the shackles, his eyes widening at the implication.

Before he can make sense of anything, Aredian’s son has pushed him to the floor and is hovering above him, pressing down on his chest and brushing the needle against the gash in his side.

That one does need stitches, Merlin can admit. But he wants Gaius to do it, he doesn’t want this, he can’t handle this, please-

The needle pushes in.

Merlin screams.

His thrashing is weak because his soul feels drained but he’s aware of himself crying as the witchfinder just laughs above him, using the thread to pull his skin back together as if this is all a game, as if Merlin’s pain is nothing more than background music.

He feels himself starting to lose consciousness halfway through but he doesn’t get the mercy of staying unconscious, his magic forcing him to stay awake, to stay alert.

So he just screams, his hands curling into his fists and his teeth starting to ache from being clenched together too hard. He can’t move, he’s pinned down by the weight of the witchfinder, but his free leg kicks at the witchfinder desperately, uselessly.

It hurts.

Merlin can feel his resolve crumbling; this is something new, something no spell or book could have prepared him for. This is pure evil and he can’t do anything, he can’t find a way to stop it, he can’t figure out how to handle it.

“Please!” he finds himself whimpering, wishing it would stop.

It doesn’t.

Not until the knot is tied and the gash has been closed in the most awful way possible.

Only then does he breathe, every breath tugging slightly on the stitches but letting him exhale his pain away. Or rather, imagine that he’s exhaling some of his pain away.

“One more, I think…” Aredian’s son muses, glancing over Merlin.

He shakes his head again, silently pleading for him to stop.

Aredian’s son clicks his tongue as his eye catches the wound on Merlin’s shoulder; Merlin watches as the idea forms in his mind but he’s too exhausted to even try and defend himself this time.

He’s rolled over so that the cold floor is pressed to his face and he can see nothing but stone and blood, the shackles digging into his wrists painfully and Aredian’s son settling into place above him, pinning him down again even though he wouldn’t have the strength to move anyway.

Merlin screams again as he starts stitching.

This one hurts the most.

He can’t stop the tears escaping from his eyes as the needle is pulled through his skin, weaving away the wound but leaving behind unmeasurable agony in its wake.

He slumps into the stone below him, letting his tears fall as soft sobs leave his tired, bleeding lips. If he didn’t have magic, he’d have been mercifully unaware by now, but it’s just his luck to be plagued by the reminder of his destiny, his responsibility, his duty to fulfil the expectations looming above him.

“Puh- Please…” Merlin manages to plead as the witchfinder harshly yanks the thread at one point and sends a whole new wave of pain down his spine.

“I don’t know what you’re made of that’s keeping you awake,” Aredian’s son mutters, something like concern flashing in his voice for half a second. It disappears as soon as he adds, “But you could just take this chance to confess.”

Despite everything, Merlin shakes his head, letting his eyes close once more.

He’s so tired that he wouldn’t even have the energy to form a confession if he’d have wanted to. Not that he does. He never will. Not even if it kills him.

And as the third gash is finally stitched up and Aredian kicks him back into the corner, agony from all three wounds flaring up enough to entice yet another broken sob from his lips, Merlin thinks it just might.

-

not sure anyone cares but I aim to write a third part as well so look forward to that if you’re so inclined :)

-

like/reblog but please don’t repost, thanks! masterlist

[elreyciervo]

Have you considered: artsy Nines who never says anything he's thinking or lets anyone (except Connor) see any in-progress work, but actually reveals a lot of what he thinks of different events and concepts through his art?

Oh wow, you know, I never really thought about artistic!Nines before, tbh. But, I can see it. 

I can see Nines stumbling across art videos or something (maybe he watched a video Markus or one of the other DPD officer shared) and he finds himself, surprisingly interested? At first, all he can think about it, “How could this possibly be art?” but then leads him to think, “Why is this considered art?” Because the everything he looks up gives him conflicting results, he decides to figure out the answer himself, pragmatic as ever.

He decides to try art for himself.

He tries painting as a first step. After all, it is rather simple to simply use pigments to recreate what he sees in front of him. That is art, is it not? The painting in front of him is a perfect replica of the bowl of fruit he had set up. A classic subject to use as a still-life, he had discovered in his research. 

He shows Connor, truly, the only being he feels comfortable showing something he created with his own two hands, and his predecessor smiles and compliments him, saying how the replica looks amazing, but it has no feeling. Nines it totally confused. How could art have feeling? Is it not just recreating what he sees?

The answer he receives is, “Not quite. Try creating something that evokes an emotion from you, Nines.”

Nines, in typical Nines-fashion, doubles down on his efforts. He tries paper crafts, wire working, pottery, clay sculptures, and more, yet nothing seems right. Nothing seems to evoke the “emotional” response he wants. 

His frustration grow after each failed attempt, and it is starting to bleed through to his job. He is just a little too short with a suspect one day which–he still tries to process how in the world it had even happened–leads to a riot of six different men exploding in anger. Slurs and profanities are thrown in his direction, hissing words and profane phrases like “Plastic freak” and “Unfeeling walking metal trash heap” are shouted; worse things he wishes not to repeat. Professional as ever, he did not let the words affect him visually on the outside, much preferring to keep it to himself (as awful as it made him felt). But, this led to murmurs floating in the DPD when he stepped back in. “Do you see that?” they say. “It’s like nothing phased him,” they whisper. “Maybe he just doesn’t feel after all,” they conclude.

Nines pretends that doesn’t hurt him as much as it does.

But it does.

When he goes home, he looks at all his failed creations with contempt. Failed tries at art, to be expected of a being that was just a machine. Absentmindedly, he heaves himself into a chair at the table and begins to pick apart a soda can that Gavin left behind earlier that day. He doesn’t stop ripping tiny pieces of metal from the can until there is not can left in his hand. He blinks, looks down, and sees a small pile of red, silver, and black pieces of thin metal on his table.

His preconstruction software itches to boot up, but he flicks it away. With no plan in mind–which was so unlike him–he begins to arrange to pieces, one by one, into something….well, into something. The memories of the rioting men surge to the forefront of his processor, bringing along the sour feelings that accompany them.

“Unfeeling machine!” one man had yelled.

He is not a machine. He pinches a silver piece into a fold in the middle.

“Plastic abomination!” had been a favorite.

He is not an abomination–he is a living being. He places several black pieces in a trailing pattern, one after the other.

“Soulless thing.”

He is 99.9% positive he has a soul, or at least the android-equivalent of a soul. There is saline-thirium solution that is pricking at his optical units, but he ignores the prompt to release it even though he wishes to just sit there are cry. 

All the metal pieces are used up, and to his utter surprise, he has created something…beautiful. There is a miniature being standing on his table, a man made of silver and garbed in a jacket of red Coca-Cola metal. The black pieces had been formed to depict weeping eyes and a whimpering mouth, one black metal flake representing a falling tear. The rest of the black pieces are clustered in the center of the little metal man, gathering in its–his–chest like a tarred flowering. The chest weeps its own secretion, all of black metal, while the silver hands cover it has they try too hold everything in.

Nines does not realize he is clutching his own chest with his hands. Does not realize that there is fluid leaking from his own eyes.

He goes to see Connor the next day.

This time, Connor’s smile is both one of empathy and pride. He hugs is successor gently in his arms, rubs his hands up and down the other’s white blazer–not property of Cyberlife. “I am truly sorry that you were so upset Nines. Hearing terrible phrases like that are not easy, I know. I know all too well.” He pulls away from the embrace and holds Nines’s creation in his hands. “But despite a bad situation, look at this work of art that you have created. It’s amazing and beautiful and it represents what you were feeling. You’ve created such an emotional piece of art, Nines. You did a wonderful job.”

Metalworking is his calling, Nines realizes, especially creating metal sculptures.

He evolves from soda cans to assembled sculptures made of found metal scraps around the city. He feels a sort of kinship to the metal he works with. Such hard and rough materials–most people would stay away from the often rusty and broken shards of pointy and sharp scraps, but not Nines. No, Nines likens himself to the metal he works with: metal is traditionally thought of as unfeeling, unrelenting,and unforgiving. Nothing like the soft, colorful, and vibrant mediums like paint or pastels. Metal, like himself, is assumed not to feel.Yet, people do not realize that all of these assumptions are incorrect. 

This thought is at the forefront of his processor, several months later, when he debuts his first piece in a public gallery with Markus’s help. 

(Connor had encouraged Nines to display his work publicly, much to the RK900′s friction. He had relented after much prodding–how could he say no to Connor’s doe-brown eyes?)

The Spilled Feelings of a Metal Man wins top marks and even better offers of money as it stands ten feet above him, clutching it chest like its prototype had in his kitchen all those months ago. Many android-positive groups and newspapers praise him for his thought- and emotion-provoking piece. 

I may be metal, Nines thinks as he reaches to his creation, the mirror of his own struggles, but I am alive and here. 

Wow, I did not expect that this would turn into a mini-fic, but hey, here you go! I love soft Nines–hard and intimidating on the outside, but such a complex well of emotions on the inside. Especially to Connor. Connor is perhaps one of the very very few people Nines can get emotional around.

[chogiwank]

Sunday Morning - Jung Jaehyun Smut

(1) Can i request a smut with Jaehyun? I don’t have a specific request, maybe birthday sex? Since I heard his b day is on Valentine’s Day…just something really smutty

(2) Make out dry humping and neck kisses for jaehyun please? 💖💞

A/N: This is looooooonggggg overdue but I’ve finally got time to make it and hopefully its not shit,, exams season has been stressing us out so much >:( we’re sorry we haven’t been updating as often but when it’s over by June 23rd we should be posting more and hopefully our fics don’t go to shit thank you so much for all the support!! ++ these are two requests I’ve combined into one :) <3 - Doyoung’s Darling

Pairing: JaehyunxFemaleReader

warnings: mostly just anything you would do in sex tbh??? Like oral, fingering??? jaehyun dicks you down Slightly rough?? Spanking,, lil bit of biting and like ONE minor part where he cock slaps you but nothing too big - it’s kinda fluffy at parts tbh :)) enjoy!!

Turning over to your side with a groan you opened your eyes adjusting to the bright light peering from the closed curtains. Checking the time and date on your phone it was 7:45AM, Sunday February 14th. Turning off your phone you closed your eyes again to get a few extra minutes of sleep, and that’s when it clicked - it was February 14th, Valentine’s Day or more importantly, your boyfriend Jaehyun’s birthday. You sat up on the bed leaning up against the headboard tilting your head to the side facing your boyfriend who slept soundly beside you. You smiled lovingly at him, gently running a hand through his soft, messy hair. He looked so gorgeous sleeping, his cheeks a light shade of pink and his bare chest exposed from the blankets which only covered his lower half.

You noticed his dimples began to appear as he chuckled, eyes closed

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer y/n.” His voice raspy after his night’s slumber. You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment and smacked his arm.

“Shut up, Jaehyun.”

“That’s not very nice, y/n” he said in a joking tone, eyes still closed. “You should be kinder to your boyfriend on days like this.”

“Well then stop being a lazy bum and get out of bed, let’s go eat - our reservation is set for 3:30 this afternoon.” You said as you turned yourself on the bed legs over the edge starting to get up as you felt a hand on your arm pull you back down. An arm wrapped around your waist from behind as the other held onto your wrist, Jaehyun pulled you closer to him nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “No, Jae it’s time to get up, please.”

“I don’t want to,” he said voice still raspy in a pouty tone. “I want to lay in bed with my beautiful girlfriend, is that too much to ask?”

“Yes,” you stated. “Especially if you’ve been laying with her for 8 hours straight.” Jaehyun groaned at your comment making you giggle. He hugged you tighter your back against his toned chest and abs. “Jae stop being such a baby,” you giggled, no reply. “Jaehyun please, let me go. I have to go get ready.” Still no reply. “Jung Jaehyun let go of me immediately.” You said in a stricter tone, still getting no reply nor reaction out of your boyfriend.

Feeling his breath on your neck you sighed, “Jae…” you trailed off, “ Jae” you repeated. You pout out of frustration, he was such a baby, a big baby.

“Jaehyun stop pretending to sleep, do I need to wake you up?” You turned around in his tight embrace facing him.

“Mmhm” he nodded. You laughed at his childish antics, he loosened his hold on your waist as you turned him onto his back climbing on top of him. Legs on either side of his waist straddling him, hands resting softly on his chest slowly trailing down to his abs tracing the outline of them. Your boyfriend let out a sigh at the feeling eyes still closed as he pretended to sleep.

“C’mon baby get up, I’m bored let’s have some fun.” You shook your head at his lack of response and stubbornness as his hands lazily lay on your hips. “If you’re going to be like that…” A smirk appearing on your lips. “I guess I’ll just have my own fun.” Setting your position as you straddled his waist you leaned forward, palms resting on the opposites sides of his head on the mattress. You grind down on his clothed cock making him let out a low groan and open his eyes. You devilishly smiled at his reaction, you knew he loved the sight of you like this on top of him. “Morning baby, how are you?” You innocently asked as you continued to grind down on his cock, a prominent bulge forming on the grey sweatpants he wore. He responded with another low groan. “Pretty well, I’m guessing.” You giggled.

“Come here.” Jaehyun spoke lowly bringing a hand to the back of your neck and gently pulling you closer to him. He attached his lips to yours as you grind on him. In a gentle yet passionate kiss he bit your bottom lip, giving it a gentle tug. He groaned into the kiss as you grind harder onto him, “if you keep doing that you’ll make me cum.”

“Good.” You winked breaking the kiss. “That’s the point.”

“Y/N” he murmured bringing his hands down gripping your waist thrusting his hips up into your clothed heat. The friction of the fabric of your panties and his hard bulge cause you to bite your lip to stifle your accidental moan along with a smirk on Jaehyun’s face.

Taking advantage of you being off guard he flipped over your positions, you now laying underneath him as he hovered above you keeping himself up on his arms. His soft lips landed on your jaw placing gentle kisses, “you really shouldn’t tease like that baby girl,” he whispered near your ear his hot breath on your skin. “it’ll do you no good.” His hips thrust forward to your crotch as he began dry humping you. Kissing and sucking down your neck occasionally leaving a flower of red or pink tinge down to your collar bones. You softly moaned as he reached your sensitive spot biting and sucking on it a little longer and harder forming a purple bruise. He snuck his hand up your shirt drawing patterns on your sides sending a shiver down your spine from his cold fingertips, arching your back you tangled your fingers in his messy brown hair.

As your back arched he moved your shirt up revealing your breasts. Nuzzling into the valley of your breasts he fondled with one boob continuing to suck and bite the other leaving flowers of purple down to your stomach, kissing every mark he left on your body. As he arrived at your waist he detached his lips from your skin removing your shirt throwing it to the side.

Sitting up on his knees, hands caressing your thighs he looked down at your naked figure covered in marks he made, claiming you as his and only his. He bent down leaning close to your face, inches away from your slightly chapped lips, “you’re so gorgeous you know that?” He smiled down at you dimples appearing on his cheeks, “and you’re all mine, I couldn’t ask for anything more.” Placing a hard, passionate kiss on your lips, softly biting your bottom lip as he ravished you. You returned his kiss with the same ardor, a hand on the back of his neck and the other on his shoulder digging your nails into his skin. He broke the kiss making you subconsciously chase after his lips, you wanted to taste him more - he chuckled at your action finding it cute.

Sliding a hand down to your panties he pulls them down to your ankles, you assist him as you kick them off, landing on the edge of your bed. Jaehyun scans your body with a sinful smirk, admiring you in your naked glory. He takes in your divine figure laying in front of him, fully exposed and oh boy was he more than ready to wreck you until you were a crying mess begging for him to let you cum. He was always fascinated by the thought of how far he could take you until you told him to stop.

And that’s what he was going to do today, make you writhe underneath him and breathless from pleasure. Despite it being his birthday he wanted you, he wanted the sight of you, the feeling of you in every way he could obtain. Whether it was sex, cuddling, or a simple hand hold - he was so, so needy for you, but he couldn’t show it. He couldn’t, not that his dominant ego would let him, being putty in your hands would bring him embarrassment at the thought of how much power you have over him, and you do, you really do - he’s a fool for you. Not that he’ll admit it but you damn well knew it.

Spreading your thighs further apart he cupped your exposed heat, using two fingers to play with your slick folds you let out a whine as he reached your sensitive nub, rubbing your clit in a hard but slow torturous manner, “faster, Jae please”  bucking your hips up in an unsuccessful attempt to speed up his actions, he used his other hand to pin your hips down on the mattress. You gasped as he inserts two fingers into your pussy, pushing in and out dragging your juices into your folds and clit, rubbing your core faster your breath hitch as he lightly pinched it. Unable to move your hips as he held them down you put your head back closing your eyes, bringing a hand up to your boob squeezing it from the pleasure. Jaehyun put his hand on top of yours helping to massage your boob with your own hand as he worked on fingering your pussy with his long, slender fingers pushing in and out spreading your juices out. A few pumps of his fingers later he dipped his mouth attaching to your nipple, sucking on it and lightly biting the skin of your breasts. You let out a moan as he found another sweet spot which was the last thing you needed to reach your climax. Your face flushed and hot, breathing heavy as the warm juices spilled onto his fingers. He pulled away from your breast taking his fingers out making you whimper from the loss of contact.

His gaze stared into your eyes, bringing his fingers up to his mouth he sucked on them cleaning up your juices, “so sweet,” he hummed. “can I have another taste?” Before you could respond his face disappeared in between your thighs, hair peeking up at you as his lips attached to your wet pussy. Licking up your folds and sucking your clit, he messily yet skillfully ate you out, he knew where and how to click all your buttons. Fingers wrapped in his hair tugging from the mixture of pleasure and sensitivity from your previous orgasm. He helped you through your orgasm as he continued to work his tongue on your heat, licking up all your juices as they dropped down wetting the sheets,

“Please, please no more.” You cried pushing him away with the help of your hands and a leg placed on his shoulder. He removed his mouth from between your thighs with a satisfied smirk . His lips glistening from your cum as some dripped off his chin. Wiping it off with his fingers he ordered you to suck, too weak to object you wrapped your mouth around his slender fingers tasting yourself on him.

“Perfect,” Jaehyun breathed. “You look so, so pretty fucked out for me baby,” he caressed the inside of your thigh, bringing his hand down to the back of your knee. “I’m not done with you yet though,” placing your leg over his shoulder he leaned in to you, your leg pressing against your chest he placed a hot kiss against your lips, darting his tongue into your mouth, tasting every inch of you as you tasted the lingering taste of yourself on his mouth. “I want to see you wrecked for me baby girl.”

He pulled his sweats down and kicked them off revealing his erection stood against his stomach as he wore no underwear. Taking a hold of his cock in his hand he pumped spreading his pre-cum on himself. “Tell me baby girl, do you want me?”

“Yes.” You spoke with a shaky breath. “I want you to destroy my pussy, make me sore that I can’t speak, so I can’t walk straight and my ass hurts when I-“ Submissive under his power you couldn’t finish as he thrust himself into you. Rocking back and forth slowly to get you adjusted to his length, despite his dominant nature, no matter how much he wished to pound into you - he needed your ‘okay’ so he could continue at ease. You nodded your head, tightly gripping his shoulder biting into it, this signalled for him to speed up which he gladly obliged to, picking up His slow pace into a faster one he pound into you, skin roughly slapping against skin, still sensitive from your previous orgasms you arched your back, chest pressing into his, he wrapped an arm around you holding you closer.

You cried out as the sensitivity was too much, but too good, you couldn’t say no. You felt your third orgasm coming but instantly disappearing as Jaehyun pulled out of you, feeling empty you whimpered at the loss, bucking your hips up to his begging him to continue.

“Face in the sheets and ass in the air, now” Jaehyun ordered. You obeyed changing your position on the mattress as you placed your cheek against the sheets and adjuest yourself on your knees legs spread wide enough so your bare, wet pussy felt the cool breeze flow, lightly shivering at the feeling of coldness. “That’s a cute ass, y/n” Jaehyun smirked.

“Thank you, Jae.” You teasingly said as you wiggled your bum. Letting out a gasp as you felt a sharp pain on your ass you looked back at Jaehyun because of his current action, you saw him looking at you hungrily, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip.

“Mmm but it‘ll be cuter when it’s pink and has my teeth marks on it.” He said as bending down to bite your ass cheek roughly, you let out a squeal from the hard action making your boyfriend chuckle. He continued to spank and bite your ass until he was pleased with it, leaving it a shade of pink bite marks mixed in. He massaged your ass with one of his hands as he held his cock with the other against your folds. “You’re so hot like this baby, all submissive for me, so obedient..” he drags his cock up and down your folds teasingly, you accidentally let a moan escape from the light touches. You were so needy, you wanted him in you until you came all over his cock, but Jung Jaehyun was a fucking tease.

“Your ass takes care of you not being able to sit,” he laughs. “And I’ll obviously fuck you until your pussy is sore, wet and dripping with my cum but how should I make you lose your voice…” he sheepishly spoke. “Should I make you scream until the neighbours complain.” Sliding his cock into your pussy with a hard thrust you gripped the sheets tightly and bit your bottom lip. He brought a hand up into your hair tangling his fingers and roughly pulling your face up. Bending down from behind you he spoke in your ear, “or make you take my cock down your throat.” He shoved your face into the sheets thrusting into you from behind roughly. “Take your pick.” He panted.

Struggling to form proper words your voice cracked as you spoke, “I…” You trailed off, Jaehyun pulled you up against his chest by your hair.

“You know that’s a trick question baby girl, I always make you scream until you lose your voice, doesn’t matter which way - you’ll get both.” His hot breath against your ear. You moaned from his rough thrusts in you, grabbing a boob with his free hand as the other was in your hair he fondled it and pinched your nipple. Biting and kissing on your neck as he sloppily, passionately, harshly thrust into you made you arch your back once again. You brought a hand to grip on to his hair as he continued to fuck you restlessly. You tugged as you felt a familiar knot in your stomach.

“I..I am close.” You choked out. “please.” voice raspy and throat dry. Jaehyun let go of his hold in your hair loosely wrapping a hand around your throat squeezing as much he knew you could handle. He brought his hand down from your boob to your clit as he furiously rubbed it to bring you closer to your third climax.

“Cum for me baby, no one’s stopping you.” He seductively spoke. Those words and his finger rubbing your clit brought you to your edge as you cried out a string of curses and his name being said. Your cum spilling on his cock, he helped you ride out your high at a normal pace pulling out as you came down. Pushing you into the mattress, you turned over to your back, sprawled out on the bed exhausted you attempted to catch your breath.

Feeling a weight on top of you, you looked up through your hooded eyes at Jaehyun you stood up on his knees, the sight above you - hair messy and his sweaty body panting, he held his cock in hand above your mouth. “Suck.” He demanded, struggling to open your mouth due to your exhaustion he slapped your face with his cock, your cheek now wet due to the cum. “Suck, I can do this all day baby girl, you know me. Open that pretty mouth.” You opened your mouth, his cock instantly shoving in hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag. The vibrations making him moan, he continued to thrust into your mouth as he held onto the headboard, slowing down as he began to reach his climax, you began to bob your head up and down his length with the strength you were left. Playing with his balls he threw his head back from the immense pleasure he felt letting out groans and curses. As he began to feel the knot in his stomach he let out a deep moan, chanting your name like a prayer as his cum spurt into your mouth. His juices slid down the side of your mouth as you swallowed down the rest. Spitters are quitters Jaehyun states down at the sight of you, hair a mess across the bed, lips bruised and slightly puffy, body covered in sweat, eyes lidded, his cum dripping down the corner of your mouth - he cleaned the corner with his thumb, you grabbed his wrist as you brought his thumb to your mouth, sticking your tongue out to lick the drop of cum, sucking on his thumb with an innocent seductive look. He groaned at the sight, you were so hot, so fucking sexy and he was all for it.

Jaehyun sighed as he plopped down beside you, “y/n, you tease too much” he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you closer to him, placing a soft kiss behind your ear, “you make me feel so much, in so many ways and I don’t understand how you have me whipped this badly.” You giggled at his confession, turning over on your side to look at him,

“If it makes the sex this good, then I’m glad.” you playfully winked, placing your hand on his bicep giving it a light squeeze.

“Not even just the sex, baby girl,” Jaehyun gazed into your eyes. “it’s everything, you make everything so, so much better and you make me so happy to have you.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. “I’m so glad I’ve met you.”

“Jaehyun…” giving him a loving look, placing your hand on his cheek you affectionately caressed it with your thumb. “Happy birthday, I hope you have many more that I can spend with you.”

He flashed a bright smile showing off his two dimples, leaning in giving you a chaste kiss. He nuzzled into your chest as he intertwined his fingers with yours on one hand. “Can’t we just lay here for a while longer?”

You laughed at his whining, your chest vibrating as his head lay upon it, “no, because when we woke up it was practically 8 and now it’s almost 9 Jaehyun,” you lightly shook him in an attempt to make him stand up, earning only a whine. “please, we have to go remember we have our reservation today.”

“I’ll cancel it.” he huffed. You sighed at him, he was such a lazy bum.

“Okay I’ll make you a deal,” Jaehyun perked his head off of your chest looking down at you, head tilted and eyebrow raised, “if we get up right now we can have a quick round two in the shower and…” he sat up from his position on top of you now sitting on the edge of the bed as you got up and sat against the headboard. “After our food I’ll let you tie me up and make me cum as much as you want.” You smirked.

“Really?” He excitedly said.

“For as many letters there are in your name.”

“You really have no idea what you just got yourself into.” Jaehyun chuckled.

“Of course I do, that’s why I said it.” You clicked your tongue. “Now let’s go, I want your cock in my mouth again.” You loosely placed a hand on his thigh seductively yet teasingly looking at him.

“You drive me crazy, and I love it.” Jaehyun said as he quickly stood up and scooped you up in his arms bridal style, walking off to the bathroom with you in his arms he placed you on the counter, you let out a hiss at the slight pain you felt from Jaehyun’s previous spanking and bites. He placed open mouthed kisses up your marked chest to your neck, jaw and a soft kiss on your cheek.

“This is the best birthday ever.” he whispered continuing his work on your body. We all know where it went from here having some bombass oral shower sex, your date and then later on y’all got frisky once again you know all that good good ;))) let’s just say that you probably actually did cum as many times as the letters in his name and the next day you were both so fucking tired y’all probably called in not being able to make it to work and stuff just sleeping in and ordering take out and movies or your favourite show reruns or starting a new one- just a vvvvv soft day together with innocent kisses and cuddles (^_^) a dramatic 180 degree change from yesterday LOLOLLL

A/N: so I hope you guys enjoyed this jaehyun smut so sorry for not being as active like before bc exams have been eating us but I finally got time to post this!! The other admins should be posting after June 22 and I will too mostly so this might be our last post for u h two weeks I think ?? Requests are open and we will get to them so please feel free to send us some to give us inspiration and such - FLUFF, SMUT, ANGST AND ANYTHING IS JUST ABOUT ACCEPTED :))) BUT NO TEACHERXSTUDENT SMUT WE APOLOGIZE !! ~ Doyoung’s Darling

[maknaesdancersrappers]

Johnny + Belt

Requested (long overdue tbh)

A/N: This was so hard to write because we have this one prof who looks like Johnny (not in a good way?? Like it’s awkward for us) and guESS whaT? He’s our photography prof *ahem* johntography *ahem*

Warnings: smut, spanking, dirty talking, light bondage and choking

also, Idol!Reader

and unedited bc i can’t

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

You never learn your lesson.

Johnny wasn’t the type to get so irked easily; he’s a very chill guy. He lets you flirt with his members, of course, in a playful and platonic way. He isn’t so fazed when your stylists decides to put you in skimpy clothing for your live stages with your group (He highkey enjoys them.)

But if there’s one thing that gets on his nerve, of all things, it’s when you would gaze over him during your performances on award shows, when the choreo gets a little too frisky and just hold his attention.

He hated that. He hated it only because it turned him on so much and god forbid anyone see him sport a raging hard on, especially in a public and televised event.

He had already told you off the first time, a hard spank on your ass to serve as a warning, but he should have known a kinky girl like you would take that as one.

“Stand by the bed.”

“Johnny, that wardrobe malfunction wasn’t my fault!”

“You don’t have the right to talk back so take those clothes off and stand. by. the. bed.”

You shut your mouth and strip off your dress, along with your underwear. You station yourself at the foot of the bed, back straight and arms on the side--just how he want you to be. Johnny takes his time to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves up to his elbows, all the while staring you down.

It really wasn’t your fault that the leather shorts you wore ripped around the thigh area and slowly crept up your crotch. It happened near the end of the performance, but your ending pose required you to kneel on one knee and spread the other to match your groupmate on your side, which basically meant your crotch is open to the audience. To make matters worse, the shorts were so tight that any panties you wore under it would be too obviously so you made the decision not to wear any for the performance.

Big mistake.

Not only did your shorts rip and you almost bared yourself for whole world to see, Johnny was well aware that you didn’t have underwear on and you could practically see him fuming when your performance ended. You were lucky enough that the sleeves of your top were long and flowy so you could cover up the damage, but it wasn’t enough to hide it from your boyfriend.

He walks up to you, looking down your body once before sitting down on the bed. He pats his lap and you gulp, lowering yourself so your midsection rested on his thighs.

“When will my baby ever learn?” He sighs, his large palm gliding up and down your thighs. “Teasing me that you’re not wearing anything under those shorts is one thing, but to rip them and have the whole world see that tight pussy of yours-- have them see what’s mine?”

“I didn’t think it would rip--ah!” He slaps your ass, making you punctuate your retort with a moan.

“Now my baby has the audacity to talk back after being naughty.” Johnny smooths over the spot he had slapped. He releases another sigh, “Naughty girls need to be disciplined. First things first, what’s our safe word?”

“Red.”

“Good girl. Now, let’s begin.”

You shut your eyes as you wait for the first hit to come. When it does, you accidentally yelped out loud, hands grabbing the edge of the bed for some sort of support. He continues to spank you, alternating from each of your butt cheek and lightly massaging it. Each slap making you moan and twitch under his hold.

“Ah, my baby is such a slut, isn’t she? She likes to be spanked by my hand, right?” Johnny spanks you harder.

“Yes!” You cry, practically shaking from his actions.

“But you never learn your lesson, maybe this isn’t enough.” He runs a finger along your wet folds, scratching your clit before trailing it backup and giving you one last spank. He pulls you off of him and pushes you on the bed, face down and ass up. “Spread your legs and stay still.”

You obey him immediately, breathing heavily as you waited for his next move. You hear the sound of his belt being unbuckled and in a few seconds, you feel the leather strap hit the side of your thigh. A surprised half cry, half moan escapes you. His belt definitely hurt a lot more, but it strangely felt good (almost better) than his hand. He does the same pattern of spanking each cheek and softly rubbing it with his other hand.

Each slap of his belt was harder than before and each smack on your ass made you flinch on contact. A moan would leave your lips every now and then and you’d arch your back more, practically offering your ass to Johnny for him to use.

The sight of you was so lewd and erotic that Johnny was sure his erection was about to burst out of his pants. He gave your pussy a few tentative slaps with his belt, making you whimper at how sensitive you were now. Your juices coated the belt strap, leaving every following slap with a wet sound. He strikes it with a little more force and that alone pushes you off the edge and makes you cum.

And then it happened so fast that you don’t even know when and how your arms were bound around your elbows by his belt, but before you can even think of it, you were screaming in absolute pleasure when his dick slides completely into you.

“My baby is such a slut, all wet from her punishment--fuck, [Y/N], you’re dripping.” He cusses, holding onto the belt with one hand as he uses it to thrust into you.

You couldn’t get one coherent word out of your mouth, jaw dropped open at the overwhelming sensation between your legs. Your second orgasm hits you without any warning, screaming into the sheets as you attempt to get a grip on something but Johnny holds the belt tighter, further restricting your movements.

With your body convulsing and you choke out moans, Johnny merely smirks. He stands up straight and stays still, using his hold on the belt to move you along his dick. It starts out slow, his cock easing in and out of you in a slow pace to help you ride your orgasm out. But once your body stills, he quickly buries himself inside you, pleasure shooting into your veins. He lets you fall into the bed slowly, still controlling your body with the belt around your elbows.

And he repeats this.

Pulling you by your makeshift reins as quick as he can, your pussy encasing his hard length in one go, and then loosening his grip so you would slide out. His breathing becomes low, harmonizing with your whimpers as it fills in the silence of the room.

Johnny starts to pick up pace and you begin tearing up at how sensitive you were. His thrusts begin to become erratic with his hips slapping against the back of your thighs.

“Johnny!” You cry out, mouth slacked and drooling.

He pulls you up and lets go of his belt to hold you by your hips and breast, your back arched away from him. “Do you want me to stop? Say the word, baby.” He hisses into your ear, following it with a sloppy kiss down your neck. His fingers dig into your right boob, roughly kneading them before pinching your hardened nipples.

“N-no!” You shake your head, trying to rock your hips to meet his thrusts.

He chuckles at your attempt, letting you go to fall back on your arms on the bed before roughly thrusting into you.

“Oh, shit.” You curse, biting down on your lip as you feel your third climax building up.

Johnny reaches down and slaps your ass, still red and raw from it’s beating earlier. It makes you clench around him, making him moan at the tightness. His other hand finds your clit and the second touches it, you shoot up, pressing your back against him.

“No, wait!” You moan out, “John-Johnny, stop!”

But he thrusts into you deeper and pinches your clit harder, your body shaking once more at the incoming wave of pleasure.

“Don’t you dare cum.” He growls, putting a loose hold on your neck.

“It’s too much!” You whine, your arms finally breaking free from the belt and frantically holding onto his wrist.

“Then say the safe word.”

You can’t and you won’t. It felt all too good and stopping it now would just disappoint both of you. “I can’t hold it in.”

“Then you know what to do.”

His fingers rub furiously against your sensitive bud like an ultimatum and you take the bait.

“I’m sorry! I’ve learned my lesson! I’ll make sure to wear safety shorts all the time! I won’t tease you on stage anymore! Please, please let me come, daddy, I promise I won’t do any of it again!”

He climaxes first, grunting low as he fills you up, triggering your own orgasm to release.

Johnny holds you close, kissing your shoulder as you thrashed around in his arms.

When both of you calm down from your high, he slips out of you and guides you down the bed, spooning you from behind.

As you catch your breaths, Johnny chuckles, “I didn’t mean to cum before you, but you caught me off guard there for a second, calling me daddy and all.”

If the sex hasn’t made your face red, then blushing from your slip up definitely should. “It slipped.”

“And I like it.” He kisses your hair, “Are you okay? Do you hurt anywhere?”

You giggle, “Nothing I can’t handle.” You look over your shoulder, “I like the belt. You should use it more often.”

He narrows his eyes at you, “You said you’ve learned your lesson.”

“Who said anything about using the belt on me just for punishment?”

His face splits into a smile, “Ah, what have I done?”

[switchdnp]

Intermission

Summary: Almost 2k words of absolute filth, dnp enjoying one of their free days to its full extent

Word count: 1917 (so close)

Warnings: knifeplay, humiliation, degradation, some praise, pain kink, bloodplay, blowjobs, fearplay, punishments, sensory deprivation, d/s dynamics, face fucking, there’s a lot happening okay

A/n: i got hella carried away with this tbh, hope u like it bc im gonna think about writing it the entire time im meeting dnp tomorrow

When Phil had been teasing Dan all week, aching for some kind of punishment, some way for Dan to reprimand him and get out all the stress and built-up tension from the tour--he hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected to be sitting on the floor, on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. He hadn’t expected to be blindfolded and waiting, waiting to hear Dan walking into the room. Waiting for Dan’s warm, soft hands running over his body where he couldn’t see, could only feel.

But he’d asked for this, he’d gotten himself into this situation. And, if he was being honest, Phil wasn’t sure he’d wish for anything more to help him unwind at the end of the such a long week. He loved it when Dan took charge, loved getting to just take orders, let himself be guided and taken care of. And he could tell Dan loved it too. He’d always liked being in control of things, made him feel like he had everything a little bit more stable and safe. Sometimes, being in control of Phil—just for the night, of course—gave him that sense of safety he needed. Phil took pride in being the only one that could give that to him.

After what felt like hours of waiting—but was realistically, probably only a few minutes—Phil heard Dan’s footsteps approaching, followed by the opening and shutting of their bedroom door. He shuddered as he realized that meant Dan was finally in the room, finally there to enact whatever punishment he had planned. Phil could barely wait. His favorite part of rougher scenes was always getting to anticipate what Dan would do to him, what limits he’d push and stretch to leave Phil a shaking, whiny mess.

The mattress squeaked, and Phil knew that meant Dan was sitting on their bed now. He could practically envision how gorgeous he must look, calm and cool, the warm, low lighting of the room making his pretty features stand out even more. Part of him wanted to see Dan, wanted to see that gorgeous, self-assured smirk Phil could just tell he was already sporting. Nothing turned him on as much as Dan’s cockiness and confidence, absolutely nothing.

“Phil, come here.” Dan spoke, low and quiet in a way that made Phil’s stomach twist in the best way possible. He sounded so commanding, easily getting Phil wrapped around his finger, completely desperate to please him, without ever having to raise his voice.

“Yes, Sir.” Phil replied, shuffling on his knees to the bed as best he could without being able to see. Dan told him when to stop, running a hand through his disheveled quiff, and fluffing it fondly.

“Good boy.” He muttered, letting his fingers run down the side of Phil’s cheek before pulling his hand away. Phil’s heart jumped at the praise, he loved being Dan’s good boy, loved making his Sir happy when they were in play.

“Do you know why you’re being punished, love?” Dan asked, the warmth in his voice balancing out the stern tone. He was so gentle with Phil, even during punishments. Couldn’t bear to even risk hurting his baby.

“Yes, Sir. I was bad, I teased you all week in front of all our friends and managers.”

“And what do you say?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Good boy,” Dan repeated, leaning down and kissing the top of Phil’s head as he said it, just for extra emphasis. “you’re such a good boy for me. But even good boys need to be punished sometimes, right, love?”

”Yes Sir, please punish me Sir, promise I’ll be good.” Phil said, trying to hold back the quiver in his voice. He was already trembling just waiting for the actual punishment to begin.

“Okay, you know your safeword, right?”

“Yes Sir. Red, like always.”

“That’s right baby.” Dan cooed. Phil didn’t see it, but he could tell Dan was smiling. Could hear it in his voice, like he just couldn’t hold back the love he had for Phil, even during scenes. It was unbearably sappy and sweet—and Phil loved it.

“Alright, I’m gonna get out something special for your punishment. We haven’t played with it in a while, so tell me if you feel uncomfortable or unsafe at any moment, okay angel?” Dan said, reaching over and pulling something out of their bedside drawer. Phil heard it clang against the wood as Dan got it out a little clumsily, and it sounded almost metallic.

“Sir, is that—“

“The knife? Yes, baby. Are you okay with me using it on you?” Dan asked, not missing the way Phil’s body was visibly tensing now, his shoulders drawn taught, and palms clenched in his lap. “You know you don’t have to say yes, right?”

“Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir. I’m okay with the knife, just don’t cut too deep, please.” Phil responded, shuffling closer and reaching out to where he could feel the knife in Dan’s hand. He stroked his fingers along the broad side of the knife, coming to a halt when they met the sharp, pointed tip. Dan started moving the knife then, dragging it gently down from his fingers to his palm, and letting it rest pressed against the center.

It wasn’t enough to draw blood, not even enough to break the skin, but Phil still shivered as he felt the cold metal move on his flesh, tempting and teasing with the idea of pushing just that little bit further. It kept Phil on edge, adrenaline mixing with arousal and making his head spin. He was already dizzy, and they’d barely even started.

“I’m gonna move it to your throat now, okay? Hold still for me.” Dan muttered, his soft voice standing out in the otherwise empty, silent room, nearly making Phil jump. He did as he was told, however, and sat still for Dan as he slid the blade slowly down the side of his neck. He stopped at Phil’s collarbone, twirling the knife in his hand, and letting the tip spin on Phil’s flesh. Phil was breathing heavily, his heart racing in his chest and blood running hot every time Dan almost cut him with the knife. He wanted it, wanted to feel that cold metal breaking past his warm skin, wanted to feel the small droplets of blood running down his neck—

And then Dan did it, dragging the pocket knife up quick and hard enough to leave a mark, draw blood. It was only a scratch, but Phil couldn’t hold back the way his whole body shuddered, almost sighing with relief as he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Dan cooed, his voice sickly sweet in a way that made Phil’s pulse beat even faster. “Do you like it, like how much it hurts?”

“Yes Sir, fuck, hurt me more Sir, make me feel it.” Phil whined, practically keening when Dan did just as he asked, piercing a deeper, longer cut just below his pulse point. Phil’s head lolled back, exposing his neck even more, which Dan gladly took advantage of. He skimmed the knife up along his adam’s apple, leaving it there ‘til he could hear Phil’s breathing speed up, almost panting by then.

“Alright baby, I think you’ve had enough fun with the knife.” Dan said, setting the blade aside on the bed. “Suck me off now sweetheart, maybe if you’re good I’ll rub you off with my foot. Would you like that, Phil? Me, getting you off just from grinding my heel against your pathetic little cock?”

“Shit, yes Sir, I’ll be good, please, please.” Phil babbled, desperate for any touch Dan would give him to his hard, aching cock. It was throbbing between his legs, hanging pitifully and completely untouched.

“Okay love, be a good boy and open your mouth for me, yeah?” Dan said, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling his cock out, guiding Phil by a hand in his hair to where he could push his dick past his lips. Phil moaned around Dan’s cock, basking in a bit of self-satisfaction when he made Dan’s hips jerk, forcing him deeper down his throat.

“Fuck, such a fucking whore, aren’t you baby? You like my cock in your mouth? Want me to fuck your face?” Dan groaned, tightening his grip in Phil’s hair. Phil nodded as best as he could in his current position, bobbing his head once just to be a little extra convincing.

Dan leaned back and started pivoting his hips, holding Phil’s head still as he fucked up into his mouth. Phil whimpered with every thrust, hands clinging onto Dan’s thighs for support as he tried to hold back from gagging, reflex tears streaming down his cheeks. Dan wiped his damp face, muttering something under his breath that sounded a lot like “Pretty baby, such a pretty baby when you cry.” It made Phil’s cock throb even harder, still completely ignored.

Apparently, Dan decided to rectify that situation, the tip of his shoe finally, finally brushing over Phil’s dick. He rubbed against the head of Phil’s cock, his sole already slick with the precum that was steadily dripping from Phil’s slit.

“Fuck, fuck, Sir please, feels—shit—feels so good Sir, please keep going.” Phil sobbed, pulling off of Dan’s dick just to beg before diving back down, taking Dan’s cock back into his mouth like the good little boy he was. Dan did as Phil asked, pressing even harder now, grinding in a way that almost hurt, the raw friction rough against Phil’s cock without any lube, but he liked the way it burned ever so slightly. Maybe Dan wasn’t the only one with a thing for pain in this household after all.

“Gonna make me cum, baby. Wanna cum all over your face, make you all pretty for me.” Dan moaned, pushing Phil off his cock and jerking himself the rest of the way to release. Phil let his mouth drop open for the second time that night, catching most of Dan’s cum with his tongue, the rest of it landing on his cheeks and chin. He scraped off some with his thumb, licking it clean and moaning at the taste—Phil loved being a tease, after all.

Phil bucked his hips once, twice, and then he was cumming against Dan’s shoe, too worked up and blissed out to even consider being embarrassed over hitting his orgasm so easily. Dan chuckled as he watched Phil come down from his high, panting and resting his head in Dan’s lap, utterly exhausted.

“Did so good for me, baby.” He praised, “I’m so proud of you, took your punishment so well.”

Phil smiled drowsily as Dan spoke, he was tired beyond belief, and honestly just wanted to go to bed now all was said and done, but he let Dan monologue to him about how well he’d done as they both slipped out of their respective headspaces, reassuring words—and a few band aids, admittedly—the only aftercare they needed tonight.

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