#if you look closely you can tell that I only added spikes to one shoulder and then gave up

[p0ssession]

I am back with more skeleton themed projects

This is my first vest and I wanted something unique, so I made this skull using textile paint and added a ribbon which I laced through some safety pins (inspired by corset piercings)

While I was painting there was also a little moth on my window so in honour of that I also added a tiny moth next to the skull. They're friends :)

[riofann]

6. tempestuous

Tempestuous: characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion.

Previous Chapter

Friday April 17, 2020 

“The popular bar behind me became engulfed in flames in the early morning of Wednesday April 15th. Firefighters and police officers are conducting an investigation as foul play is suspected. The identity and current status of the two people entrapped in the flames has yet to be released as investigators are seeking answers.” 

You groan and turn your head reaching at what you thought was your bedside lamp to turn off the lights

You hear commotion followed by your mothers voice “OH MY GOD My baby Y/N! Y/N! Go get the nurse Daniel!”

“What’s going on?”

With tender hands she caresses your “Oh honey there was a fire they had to save you” 

“Fire?”

“Hey, you called!” the nurse speaks

“Nurse is here” your mother speaks to you

“Hi Y/N my name is Lisa your nurse can you tell me what day it is?” she asks as she logs into the computer in the room you looked around the room to see your mom and dad standing close by 

“I’m in the hospital” you comment

The nurse nods her head “Yes ma’am can you tell me what day it is?”

“It's not Wednesday is it?” you add

“That’s right it's Friday April 17, 2020 you are at Detroit Medical Center do you remember what happened?” she asks as she gets ready to do her assessment. You groan feeling your head “Oooh! Be careful” she gently removes your hand from your head “you got some bandages up there” she gently removes your hand from your head

You swallow feeling your mouth dry “I walked in with Gracie and i can’t remember the rest” you croak out

“That's okay, don't worry about it, just try to get some rest and hopefully it comes back to you as the days go by, I paged the doctor he will be here shortly. I’m just gonna do a quick assessment and when the doctor comes we will do a more in depth one okay?” You nod “Great!”

You turn to face your parents “Is Gracie okay?”

You see your parents look at each other then back at you “Honey” your dad starts 

Take some deep breaths the nurse coaches as the monitor indicates your heart rate going up 

“Where’s Gracie?” you ask them more directly. Your dad holds a somber expression “No dad No! NO!” 

“Its okay calm down sweety” your mom coaches seeing the panic seep into you

“Where is she?!” You demand answers

Your mom comes to cradle you “No mom where is she? Where is Gracie?”

“Heart rate is spiking need to calm her down” you hear your nurse say

“Y/N I’m the charge nurse Michelle”

"Where’s Gracie?!" you didn't care about what the nurses were saying to you. You only hoped the reason your parents were refusing to tell you what happened to Gracie is because she was in a coma in the ICU somewhere else but what you feared the most

“We’re gonna give you some medicine only help you calm down okay?” the nurses speak to your mother gently pulling her away from you “No where’s Gracie mom dad" you reach for them

"We’ll come get you when she’s calm I promise"

Monday May 4, 2020

You lay in bed thinking about how this came to be your mind flashes back to when you agreed to work with Alejandro. 

Flashback 

“My bosses don’t take no for an answer chiquita and they are tired of waiting” new threats were added to the mix. Threats that you couldn't ignore.  

You sigh “I am putting myself at risk here”

He chuckles “I already told you we will take...” 

You cut him off “Yea yea I know” 

He extends his hand “so it's a deal then?”

You hold your breath and extend your hand “deal” 

You try to figure out where things went wrong. It was smooth for the first few months then all of a sudden the switch flipped and Alejandro was more aggressive and dangerous than Rio. His temper was a force to reckon with. Like jekyll and hide one minute he is okay the next you are constantly looking over your shoulder and spending sleepless nights. It went from simple drop offs to no you need to sit while we finish counting, accusations of shorting the Guerrero family. Payment ready at delivery to you’ll get your cut later. It didn’t take you long to realize you were being heavily monitored and everything you were saying and doing was being captured. And when you inquired you weren’t given a reason but more threats of death and bar being burnt down.

When you heard them speak of Marcus and killing him to bring Rio out of hiding you knew you had to take action and warn Rio at least, if nothing to spare Marcus life. They knew everything, things you knew but didn’t tell them. Things you didn’t even know. Where the stash houses were, where the money was kept, his banker, his lawyer, his shipment schedules, his connections in El Salvador and Mexico. 

 Rio was right, you didn’t know what you were getting into. And his “good luck” rang like a bell summoning an omen in a horror movie. Every time you think about it you shiver knowing all that had transpired after that night. 

 “Someone’s here to see you” your mother speaks, bringing you back to the present time. You look to your bedroom door and see Rio walk in. You have been home for 2 weeks now. 

You turn the other way your back to him, embarrassed “how you holding up mama?” 

You hear the door open before shutting again. You grip the pillow tightly feeling the tears well up in your eyes. 

“Were you at the funeral?” You ask 

He clears his throat “Yea” 

It’s silent. Not comfortable, it's awkward. You close your eyes squeezing them shut praying this was all a nightmare.

“Don’t worry, I told the cops I didn’t know anything” you say

He clears his throat “Wasn’t worried about that.” There’s silence again “Your parents want you to eat something” 

“I’m not hungry” 

He nods looking at your body, you had bandages on your torso and thigh “well then ima go” 

You turn to face him before he fully walks out the room “Why didn’t they kill me?”  He stops in his tracks and turns to face you, closing the door “why did they have to kill her?” as much as you tried to make sense of the situation in the end Gracie died for nothing He sits down, and you stare at him waiting for an answer “Because”

“Because what?” 

He looks at you “if they killed you then it would be a full out war, and they can’t handle that right now” “Is there not a war right now? What’s the difference?” He pauses “this is different”

“So why burn down my bar? Why kill Gracie? She didn’t do anything to them” None of it made sense to you why would they kill her when it was you that was making money for him and them “Send a message to me” 

“To you? I thought you left Detroit?” “I did” 

“I don’t understand” He interrupts you “One day it will make sense. Get some rest yea? I’ll be around” 

Saturday May 30, 2020 

“What are you doing here?” You ask Rio as he walks in 

“Came to see you” “Okay” you say as you resume your position on the couch 

He sits next to you picking up the remote to pause the TV “what you been doing?” “Nothing” “I can see that I texted you” he comments  “I haven’t checked my phone” you lie

“For a week?” You shrug “so what you just gonna sit here and let them win?” You give him a look refraining from saying what you wanted to say, “I thought you were stronger than that” You face the TV “Well you’re wrong and if it's money you want they took it all cleared out my safe” “That's not why I’m here” You sit up to analyze him “So you’re here to berate me?” you stand up from the couch 

He shakes his head “Nah, I came here to check on you”

You stand up from the couch walking into the kitchen feeling yourself get irritated and these days anything gave you a headache “Well you’ve seen me so you can go” you didn’t need him to trigger you

He pauses, following you and stopping by the entry way of the kitchen watching you gulp down medicine “I warned you” You snap your head in his direction to look at him “I gave you an option me or them” You turn to face the sink “I didn’t have a choice Rio” you mumble He snickers “You did mama you just didn’t pick me” “I did not Rio” you stress turning to face him, they had promised to kill your family and burn down the bar leaving you with nothing. “You could have told me I would have taken care of him, taken care of them” he gives you a half smile

You nod slowly looking at him wondering why he seemed delighted by your demise “so this is a long awaited I told you so? Is that it? Is that why you’re here?” He releases a deep sighs “no, I told you I came to check on you”

“Why are you here? I thought you left town?”

He shrugs “I came back”

You scoff “Why? I’m sure you can find other people to wash your money literally anywhere else” He smirks “I wanted to, it’s my city anyway”

“That you handed over to the Guerrero’s.” you argue

He chuckles “nah mama I handed you over. I didn’t hand over my city.”

You nod “So I meant nothing to you all that talk about partnership an....” “You really wanna go there?” he asks

You swallow knowing it was you that betrayed him for once this time

“So you used Alejandro to punish me for not picking you?!” you hypothesize He shrugs 

“Gracie died!”

He nods “I know”

“They burnt her alive”

“I got the details of what happened”

You scoff “You’re un-fucking-believable!”

“Part of the game darling”

“What do you want Rio? Why are you here? Do you want to continue punishing me? Why are you here?”

“I told you I came to see how you were doing mama” “Well now you’ve seen me!” You lift your shirt “My bruise is finally fading away” You pull down your pants, showing your thigh/ass area “The burn is starting to heal up rreeaalll nice per the doctor, challenging walking or sitting or sleeping or standing because it's still painful and sore. I still get intense headaches where they kicked me from time to time. I can barely eat/sleep/or drink anything and every time I close my eyes, I see Gracie laying on the floor as they doused her with gasoline. There now you how I’m doing, you can leave”

“What are you gonna do with the bar?”

You throw spur hands up in frustration “So that’s why you’re here? To see how I can continue to make you money? Wash your fucking monopoly money?”

He pulling his lips in he shakes his head before speaking “not at all darling” “Well too bad for you I plan on doing nothing its burned down, I’m not doing anything to it, I’m gonna sell it”

He sighs  “Rebuild I’ll front you the money”

You shake your head, “No, I’m done with this,” you gesticulate crossing your arms in front of you repeatedly “I’m done with this shit! I’m done with you!” 

“So, you’re letting them win?” You look at him like he has 5 heads “You did, you let them burn down the place that was washing well over a million dollars a month. I didn’t do that you did” He bobs his head from side to side “if you put it like that” 

You feel the rage bubbling inside “get out!”

“Think about it. Gotta run see you around yea?” 

Friday September 25, 2020

“We are here at the re launch of Cure with owner Y/N. This is such a touching redemption arc story that speaks to community and how people come together. The community of Detroit were able to raise funds, the city’s best contractors offered assistance, along with Mayor Nick Serrano all came together to see this relaunch possible. Y/N how does it feel?” the interviewer asks you

“Its really emotional I didn’t think this was possible.” You pause to take a deep breath feeling like you were going to cry  “I can’t thank the community enough for being amazing and supporting myself as well as Gracie's favorite charity throughout this time” “With this relaunch we heard there’s a corner dedicated to Grace your former manager that passed away is that true?”

You nod “Absolutely there’s many places in the bar as well as menu items that are dedicated to Grace and the staff. I want it to be a reminder for anyone that walks in the amazing person she was and the amazing people that work at this bar who bring light and joy into everyone’s lives.”

“This is such a heart touching story. Tell me what Grace’s favorite things were” You smile “Sure Grace loved the Blue cheese sliders that we offer” “Oh yum I heard those were good!”

“How was the relaunch?” you hear from behind you as you walk into your home that night

“Fucking!” you hold your chest “what are you doing here?!” you hadn't seen or heard from him in months “Checking in on you” He smiles at you

You sigh throwing your keys down “How the fuck are you getting in?!”

He shrugs “got my ways” “Again if you want money it's all out and I used all of the bar insurance money to rebuild”

He shakes his head “Not here for the money”

“Why are you here then?”

He smiles at you “Just told you”

You scoff and roll your eyes “bar is open it was good lots of people showed up but not sure if they will come back”

“They will” he reassures

“How do you know that” “Because Cure is the best bar in Detroit”

Authors Note: Please leave your feedback, again please don't steal. Only repost, like, or give credit.

XOXO Rose

Taglist (are you guys getting notified? Can't tell):

@katymae12344, @yinmaggiorebass , @flirtyjen, @wnbweasley, @meadows5, @ffenthusiastt, @rio-reid-whoreee, @belezaya, @meera10, @aunicornmademedoit, @stilestotherescue,

[sushiwriterhere]

breathe you in

summary: "The only one of your senses that seems to be clear, that seems to be working, is touch. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, amplifying every brush of his fingertips to a thousand."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: the mandalorian x f!reader word count: ~4.7k (oops) warnings: sex pollen (dub-con), mando is not affected but reader is, dom(ish)!mando, fingering, spanking, nipple play, no use of y/n. please heed the warnings. notes: this is dedicated to the lovely, the talented, the amazing @tremendum ily!! tysm for encouraging my mando addiction + hope you enjoy :,) this is my first time writing mando so pls pls tell me what you think! my other works are here tagging: @joelscruff @joels6string @pedgeitopascalreads @magpie-to-the-morning @softlyspector @dindjarindiaries @tulipsbymybed @ezrasbirdie @anchoeritic tagging ppl whose Pedro work I love!!! Lmk if you’d like to be added/removed :)

You know you should say something to Mando when you start feeling the tips of your fingers tingle and the edges of your vision go shock white. It must’ve been a plant that grazed you or one of the patches of sunlight you stepped through, swimming with dust and pollen.

Leave it to you to get high on accident with Mando protected by his helmet, stalking through the undergrowth just a few feet in front of you. You can’t help but notice how broad he is, just how deftly he moves through the forest and clears a path for you and the Child to make it back to the Crest. God, the Child. Is he okay?

You whip your head down to look at him, somehow feeling guilty at the thought that he too, might have inhaled something or gotten injured. It’s your unofficial job, making sure that he’s safe (that and making sure the Crest doesn’t fall apart). But he’s tucked away inside the floating cradle, its little doors shut with him likely sleeping away soundly on the inside.

So it’s just you.

Your head swims slightly, but you keep your eyes fixed on the Mandalorian in front of you, hoping whatever it is that’s happening to you will at least hold off until you get back to the ship.

The pathway back for you is cleared by Mando stalking through the undergrowth, disregarding just how loud the fallen branches snap under his weight. You shuffle along and try to maintain composure as you feel your body temperature spike, and sweat start to bead along your hairline.

A relatively peaceful walk through a cool forest like this one shouldn’t be making your breath come as quick as it does. It shouldn’t be making you tremble like a leaf in the wind, your stomach cramp.

Time slips away from you when you get back to the ship. You think you might’ve muttered something about needing to use the ‘fresher but you’re not sure. All you can feel is the cramping in your lower abdomen, the way the hair on the back of your neck is plastered to you with sweat, and the way your mouth is somehow simultaneously flooded with spit and dryer than the desert, all at the same time.

When you stumble into the ‘fresher, the stale air feels like a momentary reprieve from how warm you are. You can feel your pulse hammering in your throat, and you’re sure you look like a crazed animal. What sets you off balance most, however, is the intense and burning need you feel, centered between your legs and spreading to the very tips of your fingers.

You barely get the door closed before you’re shoving your pants and underwear halfway down your thighs and slamming one palm into the wall so you can bite into your bicep to try and stifle your moans.

But it doesn’t alleviate what you’re feeling. In fact, it just makes your mind fixate on the Mandalorian even more. His broad shoulders, the thickness of his fingers always covered by those gloves, his strong thighs and waist that you know would be behind all the power of him thrusting into you.

You let yourself indulge in that fantasy, easily slipping your fingers into yourself. Your wrist tweaks at the angle, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

That’s how he finds you, three fingers buried in your weeping cunt, standard issue pants just barely shoved down the middle of your thighs, palm braced against the wall. You hadn’t even turned the shower on.

He calls your name from outside the door, “Are you alright?”

You fight the keen high in your throat at the sound of his voice, the cramping worsening as if in response to the thought of him. Fighting the shake in your voice you try to respond, but instead let out a small wail.

“I’m coming in.” Mando’s voice is authoritative, clear in his intentions. He thinks you’re hurt.

“Mando, wait— ” But before you can finish your sentence, the door is opening.

You know how you look, sweat along your forehead and plastering your hair to your neck, arousal dripping down your wrist steadily, body trembling. Mando doesn’t move from where his body is halfway through the doorway slightly tilted forward, hand clutching the frame, gloves stretching against the tension of his grasp.

Before he can say anything, an explanation starts tumbling out of your mouth—as if you were the one to catch him three fingers deep in himself. “I think I inhaled something while we were out and I know you’re always telling me to be more careful, and I checked that the kid wasn’t harmed he’s okay, but Mando I don’t know what’s wrong with me—!”

You cut yourself off with a gasp and you can feel the tears streaming freely down your face, but the next words you don’t mean to say, “Mando, please help, please. I need—I want you.”

This isn’t how you wanted this to come to light. You wanted it to be something natural, the sort of thing you heard in stories of love truer than the galaxy itself. Sometimes, you thought it might be happening in the way he’d relaxed around you, indulged your pleas to leave the Crest and shop at a street market. Maybe it was your imagination, but you thought he might be staring at you as you dozed off in the co-pilot's chair, feeling his gaze as it watched you through your reflection on the windshield.

At your begging, he moves. Instead of pouncing on you or slamming the door shut, he quietly walks over to you, pulls your hand away from your pussy that hasn’t stopped absolutely drenching your thighs, and scoops you into his arms. You scramble to clutch at his chest, beskar making for a lousy grip against your soaked hand. You’re confused and overwhelmed but the pain subsides, ever so slightly.

Closing your eyes tightly to preemptively fight vertigo, you feel him moving through the body of the Crest til you reach his quarters. He rarely ever sleeps there, that you know. But now, he moves to open the door, the slight hiss as it opens and shuts signaling that you’re inside.

Inside the room is pitch black and the air is stale, but ice cold. Like when you entered the ‘fresher, it brings momentary relief against what feels like a thousand degree fever burning you up.

You can’t understand if he’s rejecting you, if he’s moving you here so he doesn’t have to witness this. You start to spiral slightly and try to cling to him as if that might change what’s about to happen.

As he lays you on the bed, you whimper and grasp at his shoulders, until his voice is the one that breaks the moment, “I’ll take care of you, mesh’la, I’m not going anywhere.”

You almost weep with relief as he begins undressing you, pulling your pants and underwear, both embarrassingly soaked, off you. He doesn’t take off your tunic, apparently going for efficiency. You keep your hands tangled in the sheets, afraid that if you touch him he might change his mind.

What you don’t realize in your haze as he spreads your legs and removes his gloves, is that he can see everything through his helmet. He can see the way that your tunic sticks to every curve of your breasts, your nipples hard and your chest heaving with arousal. He can see the way that your cunt glistens with slick, your clit swollen, your hole pulsing and clenching around nothing in desperate need.

Whatever you inhaled is clouding all of your senses. You can’t seem to get enough air into your lungs so your mouth hangs open, panting. All you can smell is Mando–that combination of polishing oil he applies to his armor, sweat, and something distinctly him that he always carries. There’s a buzzing in your ears that only breaks when he speaks or exhales loud enough for the modulator to catch it. You can’t see for shit, the room completely dark and beyond that, your eyes are shut tightly trying to regain some semblance of composure.

You jolt at the first graze of his fingers against your thighs, barely registering the fact that his bare skin is touching yours. His hands are strong and calloused, gripping you tightly and forcing your knees apart. Your hips buck weakly and a whimper escapes your lips.

The only one of your senses that seems to be clear, that seems to be working, is touch. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, amplifying every brush of his fingertips to a thousand. He moved his hands over your hips, your stomach, and back down to your pussy.

When he finally lets his fingers dip into your cunt, you try and jam your legs shut from how overwhelming it is. He shushes you gently and makes sure to prop you open with his knees and a firm hand on one of your thighs.

His pointer finger pushes through your curls, ghosts over your lips, barely dipping into you. He circles your clit, avoiding the bundle of nerves, seemingly focused on spreading your wetness over your cunt. As if that was necessary—you feel like you’ve been aroused for hours, potentially wet from your pussy down to your knees.

Your first orgasm is a weak, pathetic thing. You almost miss it when the tip of Mando’s finger just barely enters you, far thicker than one of your own. It hardly does anything to break the fog in your mind. In fact, it only serves to make your more aroused as you clench desperately down on his fingertip and thrash feebly in his hold.

A sharp exhale echoes loudly around the room, crackling and odd through his helmet. He lets his fingers pet your weeping cunt and in the dark he lifts and spreads his fingers to watch your cum hang sticky in between them.

“Mando,” Your chest is heaving from the effort of trying to gasp out a coherent thought, “Please, I need more.”

He shushes you again, and tells you sternly, “Be patient, sweet thing.”

But you can’t be patient. Your first orgasm has only intensified the cramping in your abdomen that’s begging to be soothed by his cock filling you.

When he finally pushes a finger into you, you wail and moan. He’s still holding you down so you can’t escape the way he crooks his finger inside of you, petting at your walls in a way that makes your mind spin more than it already is. Another finger and you can’t seem to figure out why you’re fighting him, your hands finally moving to grasp helplessly at his beskar-clad thighs as he twists his wrist and makes a come-hither motion with the fingers he has buried in you.

He works his fingers in and out of you at a relentless pace. At one point he seems to tire of the way you won’t stop thrashing in his hold despite him propping you open, and so he grabs both your wrists in his free hand, pinning them above your head and your body down with the line of his.

“Hold still,” He commands softly.

Maybe if you were more lucid you would have noticed the shift in his demeanor as he lets himself settle into taking your pleasure for his. It’s no less doting, no less sweet, but it has a biting edge not unlike the way a burst of sour fruit brings both the bite of acid and the satisfaction of something almost saccharine. Nevertheless, he seems to know what you need better than you do.

The weight of his body soothes the ache in you, allowing the haze to clear just slightly. At that, you force yourself to hold still, force yourself to simply take the way his fingers make you feel. His shoulders blanket yours easily, and his thighs are strong and powerful in between yours.

Your second orgasm is only marginally stronger than your first, still failing to break the spell of your intoxication. He can feel the way you spasm around his fingers, the way your wetness wets the wrist of his flight suit in a way that makes him pull out, lift his helmet just slightly, and press the digits into his mouth.

You hate the immediate emptiness you feel. You clench fruitlessly around nothing and try to breathe out a plea that’s almost crushed out of you by his weight. Your mind floats aimlessly as you try to focus on regaining your breath, two orgasms normally more than enough to satiate you when its your own hand, but not even close to enough in this moment.

His frustration is palpable as you continue to whine and beg, but he reminds himself that you’re so strung out on whatever is in your system that you can’t help it. You’ll get all you need in time.

“Mando, please,” You can’t seem to understand why he won’t heed your pleas, why he’s still holding out on you.

Except, he isn’t, not really. Especially when he makes quick work of flipping you into his lap and settling you against him as he’s propped up against the wall. Especially when he has you on your knees spread over his thighs, his cock hard against your back and your wrists still pinned together but this time behind your back.

“Patience,” He urges as he pulls his cock out of his flight suit with his free hand.

He coats himself in the combination of your arousal and his spit, the combination doing something deadly to how badly he wants you. You’re still half delirious, unsure of how this will end.

When he finally, finally, lets you sink onto his length, you think that might finally be what breaks the spell. You can feel just how heavy and thick he sits inside you as he slowly nudges you down. He seems to last forever, but also just long enough at the same time. The head nudges at some spot deeper inside you than you can ever manage to pet with your own fingers.

You can feel yourself clenching around him, trying to adjust to his girth. More than anything, you want him to move. You want him to fuck you so hard it steals your breath, so the pain and burning desire finally fades.

But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t move to prop his feet up on the mattress so he can thrust up into your tight heat. Instead he keeps your hands pinned between your back and his chest so both his hands are free to work up your top. You spasm around his cock and you’re sure you’re staining the crotch of his pants where he’s still wearing them.

“If you’re a good girl, if come like this, I’ll give it to you the way you want it, I’ll fuck you deep with my cock,” He almost croons. The helmet has always distorted what you imagine to be the true tenor of his voice, all lovely and smooth and chocolate rich.

You’re not sure what he means, “like this”, until his fingertips brush over your nipples, until his hands grasp your tits in a firm grip. You jerk in his hold involuntarily, but one of his forearms is already pressed against your ribs as if anticipating your inability to hold still the way he wants you to.

As he continues to play with your nipples, you almost want to tell him that you can’t, not like this. That you’ve tried before and it never got you there, that you just can’t. But the words escape you, and all you can do is try to breathe through the onslaught of sensations. Every exhale comes out a desperate, debased whine.

He pets over your nipples, twists them, even tweaks them in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. It borders on painful as he keeps you pinned to him, not letting you move even a centimeter away from the pads of his fingers. There’s no discernable pattern, as if he’s experimenting with what draws out the most whimpers, what makes you twitch most.

A particularly rough pinch draws a groan from you and one of his hands smooths down your stomach. The way he circles his fingers around where your hole is stretched open around the base of his cock is filthy. The way the tips of fingers prod at the edges of you around him, as if testing if there’s still room for something beyond the sheer girth of him makes your chest heave with the promise of more.

Finally, he touches your clit and rocks his hips up ever so slightly. You gasp wetly as your third orgasm washes through you. Your cunt squeezes him tighter than he ever thought possible and he has to steel himself against the feeling that tugs at his gut at the sound of you panting and the way you respond to the slight shifting of his hips with a weak attempt at riding him. Cumming on his cock brings you light relief, but to your dismay it still isn’t enough.

“You still with me?” Now his hands are petting your sides, and his hips are still.

You respond to a question he didn’t ask, “Need more, Mando,” You whimper.

When he lifts you off his cock, it takes the little lucidity you have not to wail in protest. He manhandles you face down, hips up in between his spread legs. He moves too, settling on his knees behind you, cock level with your cunt but he doesn’t press into you.

The position change allows you to relax a bit, but now you’re more empty, you think, than when you started. You start to whine, to protest, before he pushes into you again. Until you realize that he doesn’t keep going, his hips don’t meet yours. You try and wiggle backwards, take a mile where he gives you an inch, but the grip on your hips is firm.

Stuttering slightly, you try and beg for more, “I-I thought you said if I was good, you’d fuck me the way I want.”

He doesn’t budge, instead one of his hands comes between your legs to stroke your clit in a way that makes your thighs tremble.

“You were good,” He hums, “But give me just one more.”

You lurch forward on the bed when his free hand comes down on your ass with a crack. A broken moan leaves you and you realize you’re begging for him to do it again. He ignores you momentarily, choosing instead to smooth his hand over the heat of your skin where he just spanked you.

The sting of his palm on your other cheek stands in stark relief in comparison to the way he keeps drawing lazy circles around and over your clit.

Despite the way you can feel the way the haze, whatever the source, has begun to leave your system, it still clings to you. It amplifies the way his fingers feel on your clit just enough for you to cum again, squeezing the head of his cock. It’s a dizzying contrast, the way you’re split open on just the beginning of his length, the rest of you clenching on nothing.

He rocks you on him just barely, just enough to draw out your pleasure into the biting overstimulation that comes with four orgasms. Distantly it occurs to you he must be enjoying this somehow, the head of his cock just barely in you as your walls flutter in desperation and arousal, his hands holding your hips so hard you know you’ll bruise. The pain of his fingertips is almost soothing.

You beg for mercy as best you can–beg for him to fuck you properly, you promise anything you think might get him to fill you again: cumming on his cock as many times as he wants; swallowing him down til you can’t breathe and tears streak your face.

“You said–,” You hiccup through what you realize are light sobs of neediness, “You said you would f-fuck me if I gave you one more.”

Instead of replying, he pulls out and lays you on your back. Then, he hitches your thighs up and presses you in half with your ankles at your shoulders. His cock slides wet and hot against your cunt, still soaking from all your previous orgasms mixed with the copious amounts of precum that have leaked from him. He kneads at your ass and thighs like a lothcat with one hand while again holding your wrists above your head with the other.

When he finally slides into you, it knocks all the remaining breath out of your lungs. You don’t fight his hold any more, all your strength sapped and simply willing to take what he gives you. Your head lolls to the side, mouthing at what skin you can reach where he’s pushed his flight suit up over his elbows.

When he finally fucks you, it’s unhurried but each stroke is deep and powerful. You can hear the way his grunts come through the modulator of his helmet and distantly, just barely, it registers in your fucked out mind that he’s muttering absolute filth to you.

“The sweetest cunt I’ve ever had, ever tasted. Maker I can’t believe this is what it took for you to let me take care of you, sweet thing. Always talking back, always trying to prove you know what’s best, even when I’m making you cum. Not so loud-mouthed now, are you?”

The words make your head spin and you can’t decide if you want him to stop since they’re driving you quickly over the edge again or if you want him to keep going, to keep confessing his deep seated desires to you. He makes the decision for you as he lifts the lip of his helmet over his mouth.

“Want you to hear my voice when I tell you how badly I’ve wanted to have you like this. How badly I’ve wanted to have you in my bed. I can hear you through the walls you know, touching yourself and moaning my name, even when you think you’re being quiet. You dirty little thing, you’re so good to me.”

Your fifth orgasm feels like a supernova as he continues to fuck you deeply. It starts in your pussy and spreads to the tips of your fingers, leaving you gasping for air and crying out his name in repeat.

“There you go,” He says, “Cum on my cock like a good girl. You’re doing so well. Maker, you’re so fucking tight.”

That orgasm isn’t what breaks the fog in your mind. It’s him.

You can feel how close he’s getting and you decide, preemptively, to beg again, “Come inside me, please, Mando, please, I need it.”

He groans brokenly as he finishes inside you and the warmth of his come finally clears your mind. You clench rhythmically around him, hoping to milk him for everything he’ll give you. The motion of his hips doesn’t stop, the coarse hair at the base of his cock grinding against your clit sending skittering sparks throughout your body.

When his hips finally stop rocking against yours, it’s finally quiet in the room again. Your body finally feels like it’s your own again, and you can sense the ache in your hips from the way he’s got you pressed in half, the light sting on your ass from where his hands came down hard.

Lifting himself from you with a groan, you hate the way you feel empty, like something is missing, when his softening cock slips from you. You briefly consider begging him to stay with you like that, but your mind whispers, another time.

Instead, you let him stand and shuffle about in the darkness, clearly tucking himself back into his pants. He shucks off your tunic; it makes a heavy sound as it hits the ground somewhere next to the bed. You let him lift your limp, exhausted but finally satiated body, and carry you back to the ‘fresher. You never turned the light off.

Mando turns a small jet of water on and washes you with steady hands between your legs, soapy hands running over your breasts, your shoulders, and your thighs. You try to say thank you, try to ask him if this will change things, but you’re too exhausted to form words. He shines under the artificial lights.

He wraps you in a towel and places you gently into his cot that barely has room for two. It’s then that you realize that since this ordeal started, since he picked you up like you weighed nothing more than a single ration pack, that he hasn’t stopped touching you.

Not when he had his way with you, not when you begged for more, not when he coaxed one more orgasm from you. He kept some part of him in contact with your skin so you knew he was there the entire time. His hands never left you in the ‘fresher as you did your best not to shake like a leaf.

You protest weakly as he goes to leave and the lack of physical contact registers in your exhausted mind. It’s the first thing that’s come to you clearly since you inhaled that substance in the forest.

He strokes your hair and gently murmurs, “Let me change. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

You want him to stay, to abandon fresh clothes and stay there with you. But you don’t have the ability to voice it. Instead, you let yourself sink into the cot and breathe in the scent of him in the sheets and in the pillow next to your head.

He returns within a few moments, helmet still on but this time stripped of his body armor and apparently in a new flight suit. When he shuffles you over to make room for himself, you exhale deeply in relief.

Next to you, he’s heavy and warm. He pulls you impossibly close to him, your head tucked into his chest and your legs tangled together.

He speaks first, “Are you alright?”

Part of you wants to pretend to already be asleep, but you’re sure if you don’t confront this now, you’ll never do it.

“I think so.” A beat passes. “I’m sorry.”

With his hand ever so gently under your chin, he tilts your head up so you’re making eye contact with the helmet. Even though you can’t see his eyes you’re sure you’re staring into them. You wonder what color they are.

“No reason to be sorry, you needed my help. I wasn’t too rough, was I?” You think he sounds unsure of himself, that maybe he thinks he got too caught in the moment.

You stroke your fingers across the helmet where you imagine his cheekbone might be, “No. It was exactly what I needed. I’m just sorry that you had to find me and feel responsible, I never wanted—“

He stops you by pulling you into his chest, muffling the rest of the sentence. You think you hear the hiss of his helmet release but you’re not sure till you feel his lips on the crown of your head. You hold your breath.

With his lips pressed into your hair, he murmurs softly, “You have never made me take on a burden I didn’t ask or want to take on. You take care of the Crest, of the Child, you have to let me do the same for you.”

The helmet hisses shut again when he tilts your head up to face him. One un-gloved finger strokes over your facial features, so gentle and tender in comparison to the way you know he’s capable of violence. You’re silent and you let your eyes slide shut, the exhaustion overtaking you.

And that’s how you fall asleep: in the arms of the Mandalorian, content and with a glimmer of something new to come tomorrow.

[pinkmirth]

𝒮ℋ𝒪𝒲𝒯ℐℳℰ!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝓇ℴ𝒸𝓀 '𝓃 𝓇ℴ𝓁𝓁!

𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮ℐ𝒮 ༉‧₊˚. eren’s got mere minutes to make it to the stage, but he’ll need a taste of you before he goes.

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ༉‧₊˚. ( 3.1k words of . . . ) rockstar!eren jaeger x fem!reader (black coded), nsfw/smut, modern au, established relationship, subtle themes of coercion, quickie, pwp, eren has tattoos, reader wears a mini-skirt & crop top, mentions of cunnilingus and squirting, fingering, titty-sucking, handjob, semi-public (in the hallway), wall sex, eren has a tongue piercing + genital piercing, unprotected/no condoms, use of petnames (baby, princess), explicit language, minors shoo!

𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇 . . . (let it be known that this is an edited and revised repost of my earlier released fic!) — i was inspired by this artwork, all credits go to @lyco_aot on twitter. rockstar rennie has been PLAGUING my mind!

Eren knows better than this.

He should be in room-thirty to test the sound systems for the concert, or squeezing in one last practice session with his bandmates. But what’s the need for such preparations when he could have his hand up your skirt?

“Why’d you bring me here?” The stale atmosphere of the secluded hallway is permeated by your whisper. Eren insisted that it was something ‘important’, but your mind’s preoccupied with the upcoming show. Before you can question him further, he takes hold of your waist and guides you backwards until your back meets the wall, and your leg bumps a nearby guitar case in the process. Eren’s touch is hasty– he’s in a rush. 

“Let’s fuck.” Direct as ever, Eren boldly initiates. He seems to have forgotten that his performance is just around the corner. You plant your hands on his chest, feeling warmth radiate onto your palms. Despite your growing appetite for him, you know that giving in would only encourage his reckless behavior. 

“Now?” You let out an airy, incredulous laugh. Surely he couldn't be serious, not when he only had a handful of time left to make it to the stage.

“Right here, right fuckin’ now.” Eren firmly decides. The conviction in his voice tells you how much he needs this; needs you. He keeps your body close, emphasizing his arousal by pressing the outline of his erection to your pelvis. The rough denim of his pants chafe against your tiny fabric skirt. He toys with your thighs in his large hands, squeezing at doughy flesh and poking his fingers through the holes of your ripped black stockings. You whine over the ticklish brush of his fingertips.

Eren swipes his hair back to rest behind his ear, a continual habit of his. Long, fluid tresses spill down his broad shoulders, and you can't resist brushing a few dark strands out of his face. His teal eyes are filled with swirling passion as he gazes at you, undeniably lovestruck. To break away from his intense stare, you mention the opening act that’s soon to start. He could definitely use a reminder.

“The concert, ‘Ren.”

“I know.” Your metalhead boyfriend pulls an unconcerned pout. He's never been one for taking responsibility. In his defense, Eren’s confident that he's fully prepared; having practiced his guitar solo tirelessly. His makeup’s finished up too, ink-black eyeliner applied to his waterline in flawless strokes.

He certainly looks show-ready; his grungy appearance is unmistakably ‘Eren-like’. He’s got on his favorite platform boots, the buckled ones that cause a dull echo with every step he takes, along with adding a few spare inches to his already tall stature. Spiked bracelets adorn his wrists, clinking as he rests his hands on the small of your back to tug you close. A loose fitting tank top drapes over his body, revealing the expanse of his warm olive skin. The most striking aspect of his appearance is impossible to ignore— through the tattered jeans he wears, you catch a glimpse of his boner, straining at the dark denim.

Evidently, he’s ready as can be. All that’s left is to get in a short-and-sweet fuck before hitting the stage. He might even use the flimsy excuse that it’ll help him shake off some nerves. 

You seem unwilling to take such a risk, especially after how things turned out the last time his libido got the best of him. A few weeks back, Eren failed to notice his cue to take the stage; he was far too occupied with swirling his shiny tongue piercing around your clit. Once he finally arrived, the mussed state of his chocolate-brown hair was enough to let his bandmates know that he’d ‘taken you backstage’... You doubt that they’ll allow you and Eren to live it down. 

“You remember what happened the other time,” You mention, dreading the thought of being at fault for another delay. He lifts a thick brow, lips turning upwards into a look of mischief. “Yeah, I remember. You came all over my tongue. I even had to take off my shirt and—”

“Ugh, Eren!” You smack his chest, cheeks going hot with flush. All the while, his prankish laughter ensues. How could you forget? You squirted all over him. The shirtless look only added to his heavy-metal charm, so the mishap worked out for the better. That still won’t hinder him from teasing you endlessly. 

“You upset with me?” Eren stifles a chuckle. Upon seeing your eyes roll, he chooses to take it easy on you. “M’sorry, baby... It was hot, though.” He murmurs, squeezing your ass unashamedly. His large hands knead and grope in just the way you like. “I’ll be quick this time around, yeah?” You take his promise with the slightest grain of salt. 

Seeking to mend your bruised ego and win you over, he presses fluttery kisses to your neck. It doesn’t take long for him to leave your jugular and gravitate towards your lips. It begins with warm pecks and lightly mingled breaths of air, until his head tips to the right, assertively prodding out his tongue. The silver ball in his mouth coolly grazes your bottom lip as he suckles on it. 

You raise a knee to his erection, gently adding pressure. His body jolts at the friction. Eren instinctively grinds his hips, “Fuck, you can’t let me go out there like this,” he groans into your agape mouth. You swallow his sounds, eagerly returning haphazard kisses. “Lemme fuck you good. Please, baby?” He lowly whines against your lips. 

“… Don’t take too long.” you sigh out a huffy response, as if you haven’t been convinced ever since he gave your butt a thorough grab. It was just satisfying to hear him plead for you. 

He perks up to reveal a dangerous grin, eyes glinting with mischief. “I won't.” And with that, Eren’s flipping up your small skirt. Nimble fingers trace over your panties, feeling at the dampness he caused. Abruptly, your fingers tighten around his shoulders. He pauses at the sudden hitch of your breath.

“What is it? You okay?” to his relief, you meekly nod your head. “Yeah, but we’re in the hallway.” you mention, breathless. He merely shrugs in reply. The tips of his fingers are stationed at the lacy band of your underwear, hooked and ready to pull. 

“So?” 

“Anyone could walk in on us,” You clarify. Again, he gives a careless shoulder shrug, seeing no need for concern. You feel your patience slipping away. “Do you want your drummer to catch us doing it? Or worse, your manager?” 

To that, Eren zealously laughs. “I brought us here for a reason. It’s empty,” his assuring tone provides you with a sense of comfort. “Just trust me, alright?” His fingers ghost over your nub, until he’s rubbing you through your panties. Eren watches the worry melt right off of your pretty face, lips going agape. You end up making more noise than intended when a moan escapes you.

“So loud,” he tauntingly clicks his teeth, “You don’t give a fuck anymore, do you?” Eren chuckles through his nose. He tugs the barrier of cloth aside, feeling at your puckering hole and gathering your sticky essence with the pad of his finger. He sends you a wicked grin before delving in, making light scissoring movements by spreading his lithe digits apart. He knows that time isn’t on his side, but Eren simply can’t imagine skipping out on prep. You need the stretch, even if it’s just for the briefest minute, in order to accommodate him later. 

Years of strumming and plucking guitar strings have made him proficient at using his fingers, much to your benefit. The pace builds, with Eren rapidly entering and exiting. The veins in his tattooed forearm protrude as he moves with purpose. He struggles against the clench you’ve sucked him into, gritting his teeth and muttering curses about your tightness. You writhe against the wall, freeing out uneven puffs of air and repetitive calls of his name. Suggestively wet squelches accompany your shaky voice. 

“Ohmygod— Eren!” you release a jagged cry. In an instant he’s slipping out, leaving you void and aching for him. Eren lolls out his tongue, bringing his soaked digits to his lips and licking them clean of your essence. You catch onto the slight gleam of his piercing while he laps at the pads of his fingers. “Wish I could eat your sweet pussy, baby,” he mumbles, peering at you through low-lidded eyes. “But there ain’t enough time.” 

Eren transfixes his gaze on your boobs. He’s captivated by the rhythmic heaving, watching your chest rise and fall like a tide. Your cropped shirt comes with a dipping v-neck, leaving room for your cleavage to spill past the shallow neckline. There’s red text on the top, ‘PARADIS DEVILS’ displayed in brutal font. Seeing you in his merchandise makes his dick throb.

He fondles your clothed breasts in his sizable hands, scrunching your top above your chest and expertly unclasping your bra. He dips down to level with your chest as soon as the undergarment hits the ground, latching his mouth onto your left nipple. It perks and hardens underneath the chill metal of his piercing. You're lathered in his spit as he makes a mess out of you.

“I fuckin’ love you,” Eren slurs, gazing up at you from between your tits with the sparkliest turquoise eyes. Saliva coats his plump lips. You hum at his ministrations, running a hand through his dark hair. “I love you too, baby, but don’t spend all our time on my boobs.” you giggle, gently thumbing his bottom lip.

“Mm… fine,” he mindlessly hums. With one last kiss to the valley of your breasts, Eren reluctantly breaks away and begins to search through the pocket of his black Balmain jeans. He pushes past bobby pins, crumpled pieces of paper from his lyric notepad, a low-charged AirPod case and some guitar picks, until eventually removing a thin hairband.

Defined muscle of his inked biceps ripple as Eren swipes his lengthy hair back and messily bunches it together, holding the hair-tie between his teeth. Your eyes stay trained on the flexure of his tatted arms. “I wanna be able to see you.” His explanation comes out muffled. Hair falls in stray pieces over his forehead, and you can't help but adore the careless bun he threw it all into.

With his brown tresses out of view, Eren’s features have become sharper— enhanced, even. You admire the structured angle of his jaw, the straight slope of his nose, and the subtle cupid's bow of his pink lips. 

Eren hurriedly reaches for his pants, studded belt jangling as he undoes it. The dark jeans drop to his ankles, pooling over his bulky shoes. He brings his boxers down with the denim, too. Eight lengthy inches spring free, erect and throbbing in a way that only you can relieve him of. Near the slit of his reddened cockhead lies a stainless-steel bar— the Prince Albert piercing that Eren impulsively got done a couple months back. It adds more stimulation than you could imagine. 

He pulls up his graphic tank top and holds it between his teeth, allowing the tip to bob against his lean abdomen. Your eyes can’t seem to break away from the trance of his pulsing cock. Reaching forward, your dainty hand closes around him. Eren hisses at your touch, shuddering over the lazy twirl of your hand as you stroke him. Your thumb goes over the precum-smeared head. 

“Fuck, babe,” his mouth drops. “Jus’ hop on my cock already.” You free him from your salacious grasp to hook one leg around his hip, using the other foot to manage balancing your weight on your heel. Your knee-high platform boots produce a low squeak as the soles rub against the ground. Eren warmly pats your sides, prompting you to climb onto him.

“Hold onto me,” he says. You launch yourself up with a little jump, allowing him to do the rest. His strong arms encircle your thighs, hauling you up and supporting your weight underneath his wide palms. You lock your legs around his hips, emitting a faint whine when his dick brushes past your damp folds.

“M’gonna be fast about it,” is Eren’s low disclaimer. You deserve to know that once he starts, he won’t be letting up. His tip catches your engorged nub in the process of him lining up with your fluttering entrance. “You can handle that, right, princess?” You give an eager nod, dazedly looking at him through wispy curled lashes. Your hands are stationed at his shoulders, your grip secure as he keeps you pinned to the wall with his body weight. 

Then comes the sudden ping of his phone, chiming from the pocket of his jeans that lay rumpled at his feet. Without even a glance, he recognizes it as a notifier for the performance beginning shortly. “Goddamn.” Eren detests being rushed like nothing else. Nevertheless, he has to make due with the timeframe. The show starts in ten measly minutes, but he’ll manage to satisfy the both of you in five, give-or-take.

“We’re on the clock, ‘Ren. Hurry up ‘n fuck me.” you release a sigh. “Yeah?” Eren hardly speaks, just barely, tongue prodding at his inner cheek. He sees your intention; you simply mean to spur him on since there's no time to waste. The quiet answer he gives is domineering— his firm glare contains a look of raw desire. At long last, he’ll have his way with you.

One fluid motion is all it takes for Eren to drive himself into your sopping core. He’s been inside for no less than a millisecond, but he’s surely about to lose his mind in this pussy— you’re somehow tighter than before, wetter than ever, and squeezing the fuck out of his long, meaty cock. 

“Mm, fuck!” You gasp out through tremulous breaths. The vicious way he plunges in and draws out wrings a moan straight from your throat. You feel him twitching intensely from within you, just as the sensation of your contracting walls make his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Given his size, it doesn’t take long for him to reach deep and stir you up from the inside out. His piercing immediately grazes your sweet spot, wracking a mewl from your plush lips. Before you can remotely adapt to him, Eren’s pulling out and slamming back in again, reaching the hilt with every periodic snap of his hips. Your body jolts in his arms. The thick stretch is fleeting and doesn't have a chance to settle in.

“Ah— ‘Ren!” He drinks in your cries, gracing you with the sloppiest of open-mouthed kisses. He rocks you back and forth with pure strength, bouncing you on his dick. The sharp resound of clapping skin penetrates the air— but not as deep as he’s penetrating you.  He ruts into you manically, the speed unrelenting. Your manicured nails pierce the tan skin of his shoulders. “I got you, baby,” Eren grunts, voice strained. “I got you.”

He’s entranced by your being, wholly absorbed in how good you make him feel. Eren conveys his affection by maintaining impassioned eye contact, which he never breaks even when pounding into you. His key pendant dangles between your sweat-sheen bodies, swinging with every thrust. 

Eren’s tempo picks up. Urgently, he fucks you against the ceramic wall. “I’ve— shit, been waitin’ to do this all day,” he admits through breathy whimpers, the silver ball in his mouth gleaming when he speaks. Despite his best efforts, Eren found himself constantly distracted during microphone testing and instrument rehearsals, as thoughts of you consumed his mind. The day progressed, and his yearning for you only ever grew stronger, until he was unable to resist. He witnesses your beauty and can’t help the urge to bask in it— to bask in you.

“I could fuck you for hours,” Eren groans, punctuating his words with harsh upward thrusts. Your tits bounce against his chest as he delivers forceful, calculated strokes. 

Your climax nears. It’s undeniable, considering how you clamp down on his girth like nothing else matters. “I—I’m so close!” you hiccup, choking on your words. It’s like you can feel the dick in your throat. You’re going crazy, and world-renowned rockstar Eren Matthew Jaeger is to blame. If he continues to whisk your guts around like this, you’ll wind up with an empty brain and a full womb— and Eren’s determined to make that happen before the opening act.

“Gonna come, baby?” he coos, flashing you a crude smile. Your reply consists of a fractured whine, with a high-pitched 'mm-hm!' being the only discernible utterance. He prompts your brewing orgasm by drilling away at your cunt. “Then fuckin’ do it.” His guttural command impels you to snap. When you throw your head back and spasm in his arms, Eren knows he’s done it; made you cum all over his dick in no less than four minutes. 

He’s soon to follow. Eren leans his forehead onto yours, panting out calls of your name against your lips. The deepness of his moans reverberate and bounce around your ears– you can hear his desperation to finish. He buries his face into the crook of your neck when he ultimately comes, cock jumping as he uses your snug pussy to empty his balls. You're filled with him to the very brim, warm seed trickling past your cunt in pearly white globs. 

Your frantic heartbeat begins to calm as the high gradually wears off. You unclasp Eren from your iron grip, and he guides you back down to your feet. He chuckles over the slight shake in your legs. “Careful,” He embraces you tightly, providing a stable anchor and keeping you from stumbling against the wall for support. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his slim waist to give a weary hug.

“I finished in time. Told you not to worry,” he mutters, chin resting atop your head. As always, his restive hands find their way to the round of your ass.

“If you didn't, I woulda’ made you go out there with your pants down.” you scoff at him. Eren’s chest vibrates with unbelieving laughter. “Sure you would, princess.” He pulls his jeans back into place and fastens the belt. As for you, he helps to flatten out your bunched-up skirt. From underneath soaked panties, you keep loads of his arousal stored inside of your spent pussy. He’s truly blessed to have such a pretty little cumdump. 

“I’ll take care of you properly after the show,” Eren faintly whispers, low-toned words fluttering onto the shell of your ear. His assured promise makes you wet with anticipation. He grabs his cherry red guitar from the sticker-covered case and slings it over his shoulder, exchanging a pillowy-soft kiss with you before parting ways.

Eren knows so much fucking better than this— sneaking in a fast-fuck before a gig. Lust clouds his better judgment. 

[prettybrownelf]

Hello, if you're taking requests, I'd love something with bottom Bucky dating a goth male reader! Maybe Bucky has an undercover mission at a punk bar and gets a makeover by his bf but the latter can't resist having a little fun with his punked out super soldier before letting him go (Long haired Bucky please) thank you!

a/n- I hope you enjoy!

Smudged Corpse Paint

Non MLM/NBLM DNI

Parings- Bucky x Goth! Male! Reader

Summary- You and Bucky have a quickie before he has to go undercover at a punk bar

Word Count- 849

Content Warnings- Bottom Bucky, Top Reader, Pet Names, Name Calling, Slight Degradation, Hair Pulling, Rough Sex, Slight Overstim

“Do I look stupid?”

“Of course not! You look just like me!” Bucky laughs at you as he lets you continue his makeup. His hands snake up your sides as you sit on his lap. “Quick fucking with me Buck I'm doing eyeliner.” Bucky gives you a closed-eyed smile and a smirk. “I'm not doing anything baby, just waiting for you to finish.” You roll your eyes even if he can't see as you finally finish his other eye.

Bucky looks at his face in the mirror. You chuckle at his clearly shocked face as he examines the makeup on his face. “Shit babe, I really do look like you.” “It's corpse paint babe, it's not something only I do.” Bucky stands up and looks at the outfit you have laid out on the bed. “Don't tell me I actually have to wear all that.” You laugh at him as you pick up the large Metallica t-shirt. “You said you were going undercover at a punk bar, right? You gotta look the part.” Bucky groans as he takes off his shirt, watching you gaze over his muscular body.

Bucky simply takes whatever you give him, giving a distasteful look towards the black denim jacket and spiked belt.

“Damn baby, you should dress like this more often.” Bucky blushes as he wipes off any stray cat hair from him. He flinches a bit as you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder. “When do you gotta leave?” Bucky looks up at the clock as he lets you place tiny kisses on his neck. “Uhhh, probably pretty soon.” You groan into his neck as your hand slides down the front of him. “You sure you can't be a little bit late, pretty boy.” Bucky’s face flushes as you slowly begin rubbing his clothes package.

Bucky lets out a soft moan as he begins bucking into your hand. “I guess it’ll be ok if I'm a little late.” Bucky can feel you smirk into his skin as you lead him to the bed, watching him immediately lay on his back. “Geez, not even gotta put up a fight?” You lift Bucky's chin to face you, watching his eyes glaze over. “You really wanna get fucked, don't you pretty boy.” You lean back to take off your sweatpants as Bucky undoes his belt, feverishly sliding them down as he turns around. You cock an eyebrow at him as you bend over to grab a condom and lube. “You want me to grab your hair don't you slut.” Bucky holds himself up to not ruin the makeup you just did, even though he knew it would be ruined in just a few moments. “Yes please.” Adrenaline rushes through your body as you knead Bucky's ass, listening to him mewl under you. You roll your eyes playfully as you grab a chuck of his hair, yanking him up as he yells. “Don't want you ruining that pretty makeup, no do we?”

“Fuck!” Bucky moans as you slide a single lubed finger into him, quickly adding another one as Bucky's eyes roll into the back of his head. “Sorry baby, you've gotta go soon. We gotta hurry this up.” Bucky rolls his hips back into your fingers as you prep him, watching pre cum leak onto the mattress below you. “Aww, are you excited, pretty boy?” “Yes sir!” Bucky whines at the loss of contact as you remove your fingers, slipping the condom on.

Bucky seems to be waiting for you to slowly start pushing in, and a devilish smirk grows on your face as you slam into him, immediately starting your usual rough pace as Bucky screams your name. “What's wrong slut? Thought you just wanted a quickie?” Your patronizing voice goes straight to Bucky's cock as drool slowly falls out of his open mouth. You yank Bucky's hair back more, forcing him to arch his back as you hit a new angle. “You like being fucked like a slut puppy?” The only response you get is a loud moan as Bucky attempts to keep up with your pace.

You throw your head back as you listen to the music of Bucky's moans and whines as you feel his body begin to twitch and shake. His arms lose balance, your tight grip on his long brown locks being the only thing that's keeping him up. “Did you just cum pretty boy?” Bucky's only response is a loud moan as you continue fucking him.

“Fuck, your lucky I'm about to cum too or else id be fucking you all day.” A long groan leaves your body as you finally feel yourself cum, fucking Bucky through your orgasm.

“You ok baby?” You ask as you let go of his hair, helping him lay on his back. Bucky takes deep breaths as he nods, a soft smile coming to his face as he comes down from his high. You sit over him, taking his cheek in your hand as you look at his tear-smeared makeup. “We’re gonna have to redo your makeup baby.”

[luxtout]

Flames Unveiled (Chapter 4- The Beat of Drums and Fiddles) Aegon II Targaryen X (Bastard Velaryon) Reader X Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After six years living away from Kings Landing, you and your family are summoned back, for reasons unknown. Your mother, Rhaenyra, has different plans for you. You swore to always protect your family, but at what cost?

Warning: References to / sexual content (18+), drinking, cursing, asshole uncles, reader is kind of mean to her family, slight dubcon, spiked drinks

Tagged: @faesspace

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

It was a week and a half before you could roam around the halls without shame. Mara attempted to cut your hair to where it was presentable, and you had to admit it looks beautiful. She managed to keep the length long, only trimming pieces to frame your face. Your mother was worried about you, stopping by with Daemon, pleading that you tell them who did it so that they can face justice. You never did tell anyone, not even Helaena. The only one who knew part of the truth was Aemond.

Aemond visited you during these times, to keep you in spirits. Whether it was over tea, wine, dinner, or simple conversation, he was always there, ready to listen. You couldn't help but wonder if there was an ulterior motive behind his frequent visits, or perhaps he genuinely enjoyed your company more than that of your brothers. Regardless, you welcomed these encounters, looking forward to them every night as he arrived punctually. Over time, you began to care for him deeply, your bond growing stronger.

Your arms were tired as you carried a giant book, the Targaryen Dynasty. You remembered your mother reading it to you, your favorite page was one that was previously tourn out. The day was beautiful, and you intended to enjoy it under the Weirwood tree.

You tried to memorize the words in the text, regular and in Valyrian, but the dynasty was long, and very interesting. You envisioned the years to come, with your mother and stepfather being added to the list of rulers. As a gentle breeze cooled your skin, you turned a page and tried to fix your hair.

"You would think that after a week of being confined to your room, you'd be eager to fly," Aemond said, peering over your shoulder with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Lyrax will understand. I much prefer to sit in the sun and read. You're more than welcome to join me," you replied.

Aemond smirked but remained standing. "I have to leave for the training yard. I wanted to make sure you were... alright."

Without lifting your gaze from the book, you hummed, "I am perfectly fine."

Aemond stood still for a moment, making you glance up. He was dressed in his customary black leather training attire. His silver hair, almost glowing, was partially tied back, and his eyepatch matched his jacket. "My sister requested your presence in her chambers. I could escort you."

Closing the book, you quickly stood but stumbled slightly under its weight. "Here," you said, handing the book to him. "I'll go see her. Be cautious, uncle; if you spend more time with me, you may raise suspicions."

Aemond watched as you walked away, your red and gold dress brushed the ground with each step. You felt his gaze on your back but resisted the urge to turn around, overwhelmed by a sense of guilt. Your friendship with your uncle felt like a mockery to your brothers.

Helaena had visited you several times, and you both enjoyed sipping tea while engaging in light, meaningless conversations. She was a true friend, and you often wondered how she could be related to her brothers. Her chambers were conveniently close to yours, but you had only been inside once.

Today, you found yourself pacing nervously in the hallway, attempting to remember which door led to Helaena's chambers. Guards observed your anxious movements but didn't dare inquire, and you hesitated to ask for directions, fearing embarrassment. Fortunately, your search was cut short when Aegon emerged from the room, his face pale, and his eyes darker than usual. You noticed a chunk of his hair had been cut. His gaze briefly met yours before he turned away and walked off without a comment.

With a sigh of relief, you knocked on the door and waited for Helaena's invitation to enter.

Helaena opened the door, hastily adjusting her robes. "I apologize. Come in, Y/N."

You stepped into her chambers, where a table was set with tea, and the window was open, allowing the pleasant sounds of birds to fill the air. The sheets on her bed were ruffled, suggesting recent activity.

"It was a matter of duty," Helaena began, "I need to speak with you about a grave matter."

You nodded and perked up, concerned. "Of course, what's wrong? Are you okay?

Helaena nodded, her handmaiden assisting her into a gown. "I'm fine, but it's about my marriage to Aegon. It's purely a matter of duty. I know he doesn't love me, and I don't love him. It's just..."

You placed your hand on hers, "Speak plainly."

Helaena's voice grew strained as she continued, "Why can he have his... fun with others, but I can't?" She looked at you, waiting for your response.

"Because he is a man. If a woman was to do what he does, she would be branded a..." your throat ran dry as the word cursed your lips, "whore."

Helaena hummed, as if agreeing, "Yes, but that is if a woman's maidenhood is compromised. For I do not..."

"Helaena, are you saying you want to fuck whomever you would like?" You nearly laughed as you watched your friends face turn red.

"Is it horrid of me?"

You quickly shook your head, "No! Absolutely not, though the one problem would be, how would you escape your mother's watchful eye?"

Helaena smiled, "There are passageways in the Keep, did you know that? Aegon used them many times, though I had never used them myself. Would you like to... join me?"

You felt your heart race with anticipation. Leaving the Keep for an adventure sounded like a dream. "Where would we go? The Keep is heavily guarded, and we don't exactly blend in. When should we go?"

"Midnight would be the most opportune time. I'll have my handmaiden gather plain attire for us." Helaena moved to consult her handmaiden, who was tucked away in a corner of the room. The handmaiden nodded and was about to leave, but you stopped her.

"Wait! No dresses, just plain clothing." The handmaiden nodded and then hurried away, closing the door behind her.

You both sat in silence, grinning from ear to ear as the adrenaline of the plan flowed through the room. You stood up, and Helaena even let out a rare laugh.

"If we get caught, we'll never hear the end of it," you said, laughter bubbling from you. "If the guards don't catch us, your brothers surely will. We can't afford any slip-ups."

Helaena agreed wholeheartedly. "Indeed. Now, leave my chambers, but don't attract attention. After supper, meet me here and say we're taking the air."

"Of course. I'll take my leave then. Until tonight." You left her chambers, your mind filled with anticipation for the adventure ahead.

As you left Helaena's chambers, your heart was in your throat, knowing that your aunt was determined to go through with her audacious plan. The hallways were filled with guards, and your smile faded as you remembered that your name day was just three weeks away. On that day, you were to be betrothed to a lord, and this might be your only chance to venture out of the safety of the Keep.

You turned a corner and nearly collided with your brother, Jace. His face was battered and bruised, his hair disheveled, and his eyes locked onto yours. Concern filled your voice as you asked, "Jace, are you okay?"

Jace glanced around cautiously before breaking into laughter. "Sister, do you wish to take up a sword against our uncles? Do you think they'd go easy on you?"

"Brother, one day you will triumph over them," you leaned in and whispered, "Our brother got the better of one of them."

Jace quickly hushed you, his hand covering your mouth to prevent anyone from overhearing. "Do you want to have your tongue removed? If Aemond hears your comment... If Mother hears, she'll box your ears."

"I apologize. Would you like me to escort you to your room, brother?" You suggested, and Jace shoved you playfully as you both continued walking together.

"I've heard Mother has been looking for you. Do you plan on avoiding her forever?" Jace asked, cocking his head in curiosity.

"I will if she brings up a betrothal. She, of all people, should understand the importance of marrying for love rather than duty. I just wish to take Lyrax and fly away to the unknown. Mother doesn't understand..."

Jace stopped you before you could go on, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "Please, sister, try to grasp how essential it is for you to marry. You're the heir."

Your fists clenched as you felt the eyes of the people in the hall on you and Jace, analyzing every aspect of your interaction. Anger coursed through your veins as you realized you were about to break.

"Damn you. Damn se lot hen ao." Damn the lot of you. The sound of your shoes clicking down the hall, anger coursed through your veins, your legs carried you out to the courtyard.

"Tonight can't come soon enough." You muttered to yourself, your anticipation for your secret adventure growing stronger by the moment.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘

Dinner was a somber affair. Your mother had requested a family dinner, excluding the Queen and her children. Rhaenyra was seated next to Daemon, their hushed whispers filling the air, while you and your brothers tried to engage in conversation. However, your parents' responses lacked warmth and sincerity.

"Jace, Luke, it sounds like your training is going remarkably well," your mother commented, meticulously cutting her meat into small pieces before placing them in her mouth.

You couldn't help but snort, drawing everyone's attention to you. "Remarkably well? Aegon and Aemond beat on them every day. Look at their faces!" Your brothers shifted uncomfortably as your parents' gazes settled on their battered appearances, marked by split lips and bruised eyes.

"Training includes taking hits. If you don't get struck, you'll never become a true warrior," Daemon interjected, raising his cup to his lips.

"But Aegon and Aemond never get hit, and if they do, Ser Criston strikes them down for daring to hit the King's blood. We share the same blood; the dragon's blood runs just as strong in our veins. Mother, why won't they acknowledge that?" You pleade with frustration in your voice.

Jace's hands slammed onto the table, rattling the dishes. "You know why, Y/N. Don't be foolish."

"Jace!" Rhaenyra's voice rang out, and the clattering of her utensils emphasized her point. She rose from her chair, one hand on her stomach. "I will not tolerate this behavior during dinner."

You, however, chose to press on, addressing your brother with a determined tone. "Please, dear brother, enlighten me. I have my suspicions, but I'd rather hear it directly."

Jace turned to face you fully, his anger palpable. Your eyes shifted from him to your mother, frustration boiling within you. Your voice quivered with intensity. "They treat us like bastards. Even if they don't say it outright, the mockery is clear. Grandsire has been protecting this family for almost eighteen years, and yet the court still gossips and whispers behind our backs."

Daemon lifted from his chair, "That is enough."

Your jaw clenched as you pushed your chair back, the screeching sound echoing through the dining room. "Very well. I will take my leave."

Tears stung your eyes as you stormed out of the dining room, the guards watching you pass in silence. It was too early to head to Helaena's chambers, and the dragon pit was out of the question – you couldn't risk smelling of dragon. In your frustration, you attempted to undo the updo that Mara had painstakingly created in your hair, fingers tugging at knots. Wandering the halls of the Keep became your solace. You admired the tapestries hanging on the walls and traced your fingers over the scratches etched near the throne room, all of it drawing you into the mysteries of the past.

"Princess Y/N, may I accompany you to your chambers? It's quite late for you to be out alone," came the gruff voice of Ser Westerling. His grey beard jutted from beneath his helmet, and he didn't bow his head to you, only his eyes shifted in your direction.

"No, Ser. I can find my way. Thank you," you replied, your determination unwavering. He nodded and continued down the hall, disappearing from sight. The hour was growing late, and you needed to make your escape. You wanted to sprint, to rip off your heels and run to your aunt's room, but you couldn't risk arousing suspicion.

Just as you approached her door to knock, it swung open, and Helaena pulled you inside.

"Helaena, you scared me," you whispered, your heart still racing. But she couldn't contain her laughter. Dressed in an ill-fitting beige shirt, green trousers tucked into riding boots, she handed you rags to change into.

"Here," she said, "go change. I'll wait."

The clothes she provided were oversized, much like her own attire. The off-white shirt had strings to tighten around the top, covering your chest. Brown baggy pants and an extra pair of her riding boots completed the outfit, along with a tan hat that hid your hair.

Emerging from her chambers in your makeshift disguise, Helaena was already preparing herself, stuffing her hair into the hat. She smiled at you and whispered, "Come, Y/N. The passageway is here." She pushed on a painting, and it swung open, a rush of cold air greeting your skin as you stepped into the narrow corridor. You felt your way forward, the walls closing in on you, while Helaena left the door slightly ajar. The passage was dimly lit, with slits in the walls letting in slivers of moonlight.

You both descended a flight of steps, still trying to adjust to the darkness and figure out your way. At the bottom, you reached an opening, and as you peered outside, your hearts raced with disbelief. The passageway had led you to the back of the Keep, overlooking the streets of Flea Bottom.

"This way, Helaena," you whispered, your hand clutching hers as you both hurried down the steps. When you finally reached the lively streets, the vibrant music surrounded you, filling the air with its power. Street performers displayed their skills, manipulating fire with their hands and walking on the thinnest ropes stretched from rooftop to rooftop. The sounds of drums and fiddles blended with the captivating performances, while the sultry voices of women cooing to men and the ensuing moans filled the tight corners of the bustling district.

Your cheeks flushed as you witnessed a couple engaged in a passionate embrace, the woman's pleasure-filled moans sending a wave of heat through your body. Quickly, Helaena pulled you into a nearby pub, where the music was just as intense. You made your way to the counter, and the barkeep, a bald man with a shining head under the candlelight, greeted you.

"What can I get you boys?"

You and Helaena exchanged a glance, deepened your voices, and ordered, "Two ales."

The barkeep nodded and swiftly poured the drinks into tin cups, their tops foaming over. He pushed them toward you, saying, "That'll be five gold dragons."

You both exchanged looks, before you searched your pockets, already taking a big swig, Helaena followed suit. Setting your cups down with satisfied smiles, you grabbed your aunt's hand and dashed out of the pub. The barkeep yelled after you, but amidst the chaos of the streets, his shouts were quickly lost, and no one pursued you.

"That was dangerous," Helaena laughed, her hands fell on a wall, turning the corner to a pleasure house. Her hand slipped from yours as she ventured closer, and you frantically called after her. But the music and noise from the street drowned out your voice, and she didn't seem to hear you. Heart pounding, you quickened your pace to reach her.

Outside the pleasure house, men and women leaned against the walls, their hands exploring each other's bodies in the dimly lit alley. You felt a sense of shock and uncertainty, as the moans of the women reverberated through the space. One couple in particular caught your eye.

The woman, had a mess of brown curls, her slip dress was off her shoulder, revealing love bites over her neck and collarbone. The man, was balding, his brown hair shrunk back on his head, his beard was sprinkled salt and pepper, his lips remained against her neck. On the hip of a man, you noticed a knife with an oak wood hilt and a 6-inch blade. His eyes left the woman for a moment and locked onto you.

"Would you like to join, boy?" he inquired, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You attempted to speak, but before you could respond, the woman interjected, her tone sharp.

"That is no boy. No boy has such a feminine figure." They both moved closer, reaching for your hand and guiding you into the building.

Stepping inside, you were met with warmth, and a massive fireplace stood in the center of the room. All around you, men and women were engaged in activities that made your face burn red with embarrassment. Red drapes adorned the walls, pillows were strewn across the floor, and thin sheets covered couples engaged in various forms of intimacy.

Fear and panic churned within you as you desperately wished to find Helaena and escape this situation. This was a grave mistake, and you needed to get back to the safety of the castle. Your attempts to pull away from the couple were met with reluctance, and they steered you deeper into the pleasure house.

"I really must go," you stammered, your voice trembling. The room was filled with adults engaged in various forms of physical intimacy, and their hands slid over your body, causing you to recoil. "I need to find my friend."

The woman's voice cut through the murmurs in the room, offering a glimmer of hope. "She's in here. Come with me, and I'll take you to her." The man handed you wine, placing it between your lips in a long sip. The woman motioned you to follow, your legs wobbled but continued.

Desperation pushed you to trust her, and you followed her into a dimly lit room filled with the sounds of moans and cries. However, as you scanned the room, you realized that Helaena was not among the figures entwined in passion.

"You lied!" you cried out, your voice quivering with fear. "You said you knew where she was!"

Confusion and fear swirled around you as the woman and man continued to press, making unsettling propositions. You attempted to retreat, but the man's grip on your arm prevented you from escaping.

You went to back away, but the man grabbed your arm, "Pretty thing, why come here to not have fun?"

"Let me go, and I will never come back," you pleaded, your voice quivering with anxiety. Their intentions became increasingly clear, and you were horrified by the direction this night had taken.

"Do you still have your maidenhead?" The woman questioned; your face turned red. She read your face as she spoke, "It's okay. The first-time hurts, but we will take care of you."

Suddenly, you were yanked away from their clutches and thrown to the ground. Your vision blurred as you realized the man had likely drugged your drink. Panic set in, but it was quickly overshadowed by relief when you saw that a familiar figure had come to your rescue. Your uncle, Aegon, had intervened, punching the man who had threatened you.

Still feeling the effects of the drug, you were lifted off the ground and guided back to the main den. Aegon's voice echoed in your head as he asked, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

You looked up to your uncle, his eyes filled with anger. "Aegon, I was not expecting to see you."

Aegon wore the same rags you and his sister wore, his hood fell as he bent down to look at your skin, "Did they touch you?"

You quickly shook your head, sobering up slightly, "No, they never got the chance."

In a quick moment, he grabbed your arm, shoving you near the door, "Good, now you can explain to me on why you are down here."

You couldn't lie, if you told him you were down here by yourself, he would leave Helaena, stuck with whoever she is with. "It was your sisters' idea."

As if you called him a hideous name, he grabbed your chin harshly with his hands, "My sister is here? Where the hell is she?"

Struggling under his grasp, you gasped, "I do not..." but Aegon flung you away, determined to find his sister. Quickly, getting to your feet, you followed him down the stone stairs, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you searched for Helaena. The atmosphere grew colder and more oppressive as you ventured deeper into the hidden passageways.

Moans filled the room, down in the dampest part of the building was a different experience than above. Skin slapped against skin, as women cried out in pleasure. You tried to move past the bodies on the floor, bodies knotted together in a way you did not understand how it was possible.

Aegon watched you, how you tried to avoid eye contact with everyone, scanning from wall to ceiling. Aegon did not mind the moans, but his thoughts of his sister, his wife, being down here sent a wave of anger through him. He noticed you rush to the corner of the room, to a couple groping each other under their clothes. Pants hung at their ankles; soft groans echoed as you inched closer.

"I apologize, but we must leave." Your voice halted their movements. Helaena was a mess, her hat remained on her head, but her lips were red and puffy. Saliva shined around her mouth, love marks down her neck and navel were dark enough for anyone to see.

"Oh?" She hummed, drunk. "Well, we were just..."

You pulled her up before she could finish, the man she was with, grunted as he stood as well.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He bellowed, trying to pull Helaena back. He was very tall, built like a tower, no muscle but big around the middle. He was relatively young, not breaking the age of thirty. His grip on Helaena made you angry, Aegon was not close enough when you shoved the man.

"We are leaving, now." You huffed, pulling Helaena behind you. She hiccupped as she tried to calm you down. The man inched closer; the smell of wine hit your nostrils. "Leave us."

The man towered over you, his hand lifted your chin, your heart nearly combusting, "Or, I could have you."

Finally, Aegon reached you, his hand wrapped around your waist and blocked his sister from the giant in front of you. "She cannot, I paid my fair share for her. You will need to find someone else to sink your cock into."

Your cheeks flared up as his grip tightened, the man peered at you before turning to find his next meal. Helaena was incredibly intoxicated, unable to walk in a straight line. Aegon released your waist, holding his sister upright, muttering hurtful words in her ears until you made it safely outside, laying her against a wall.

His head snapped to you, the blood of the dragon coursed through his veins as he closed the distance, his face in yours, "You couldn't listen. You had to be a dumb bitch. Granted my sister got some prick in her pants, what was going to happen to you if we didn't find you first?"

You cocked your head, "We? Aemond's here? Is this a fucking family reunion?"

Aegon smacked your head, gripping your chin between his fingers, "You nearly got defiled. In a pleasure house. What shame would that bring to your family, to our family?"

You protested, "But it didn't happen, you stopped it."

"Exactly, I stopped it. By calling you my whore, is that something to feel proud about?" His breath was hot on your face, the smell of wine was pungent.

Without another moment's hesitation, you raised your hand and struck him across the face. Aegon stumbled back, holding his cheek, clearly restraining a horrid comment. However, he quickly stormed back at you.

Aemond appeared in front of him, promptly pushing him to the side. "Take Helaena back to the castle. I will escort our niece."

Aegon stood still for a moment, a mix of anger and frustration flashing in his eyes as he watched his brother wrap his arm around your waist. He despised the way he felt in this situation, the recklessness you displayed. He spat at your feet before lifting his sister up and heading back to the Keep.

Aemond watched you in silence, his hood partially concealing his face. However, you could discern his smirking expression. His smug demeanor incensed you, and the way he gripped you left you feeling powerless.

"I can walk on my own, thank you, uncle," you protested, shoving him aside and stumbling away from the cacophonous moans seeping from the building. Aegon and Helaena were stumbling ahead, both clearly inebriated, nearly colliding with vendors.

"As much as I would love to let you, I think we need someone to go with. Aegon is right, men in these parts will do vile things to you if they find you to be a girl," Aemond remarked as he wrapped his arm over your shoulder and whispered into your ear.

"What brings you to Flea Bottom?" you asked, sensing his body tense against yours. It pleased you to know that the question seemed to unsettle him.

"No more than what you were doing down here," he replied, his words cryptic and enigmatic.

"Stop that, speak the truth," you demanded, your legs feeling tangled as the effects of the spiked wine continued to take hold.

Aemond noticed your inebriation and, lifting you up slightly, said, "Aegon and I, we come here every few moons, but this time was different."

You wished he would elaborate, but he remained tight-lipped. "So, did you find someone you liked?" you asked, feeling him sigh against you. However, he didn't respond as he hoisted you over his shoulder and made his way up the giant stairway toward the opening of the passageway. The hall around you seemed to sway, and you tried to warn him that you might be sick, but he paid no attention as he continued to guide you back to your chambers, attempting to find the correct entrance behind the wall.

"I'm going to be sick," you groaned, desperately trying to get Aemond's attention. "Please."

Reluctantly, he lowered you to the ground, the swaying and swirling sensation abating. However, the respite came too late, and you vomited the contents of your stomach onto the stone floor.

"Feel better?" Aemond's voice was as smug as ever. You didn't want to meet his gaze, wiping your mouth and turning back to him.

"Shut up."

Finally finding your footing and able to walk on your own, the tension between you and Aemond was palpable. The stone walls provided a welcome coolness against your hot skin. The hat had become incredibly uncomfortable, and you removed it, your hair falling in near tangles.

"What possessed you to go down there?" Aemond asked, his eye never leaving you as he continued to use the wall for support.

"I was there for Helaena. She wanted to go, but I lost her," you admitted, feeling a heavy sense of guilt. It was your fault that she got into this situation, that you did not talk he out of it.

"I understand why my sister went. But why did you go? You could have said no," Aemond observed, his tone thoughtful, as he pushed the wall, revealing the entrance to your bedchambers.

"I... I wanted to see it before... before," you stuttered, all the emotions and memories from that night flooding back. You remembered how happy you were, how Helaena had laughed, how those people had sounded, how Aegon had held you, and how Aemond had protected you.

Aemond leaned against the passageway, his eye fixed on you as you struggled for words. You feared that he might use this against you in the future, but for now, he remained silent, observing you.

"If that's all, I will take my leave," he eventually said, bowing his head as he closed the passage door. Your body felt warm, and you tried to rid yourself of the rags, shoving them beneath the bed. Mara had lit a fire in your room, which you found comforting. The warmth enveloped you as you wrapped a blanket around your frame.

Your eyelids grew heavy, and the floor of your room suddenly felt like the most comfortable bed. You lay down and drifted into a deep slumber next to the crackling fire.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘

A/N: Sorry I was absent, I will write another chapter and upload either tonight or tomorrow.

If you want to be put on a tag list, let me know!

[last-starry-sky]

Girl's Night Out - ch. 2 pt. 1

friday|saturday|sunday

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pairing: Ghost x shy!goth!f!reader

rating: E

summary: Shy!reader brings Ghost (or Simon, as she learned his real name finally) to her place for some "fun" after they hit it off at the club. 👀👀👀

word count: 4.8k

warning: mdni, not beta-read but edited by me until I wanted to claw my eyes out, a truck-load of self doubt and issues from reader, simon talks reader though it in nice, teasing, and dominant varieties, size difference 💀, fingering, unprotected piv sex, cumming on the outside (idk what kink this is help), praise/punishment kink if you squint. a/n at the end!

Repeating my warning from last time, I have committed the ultimate, unforgivable sin in this: Ghost is maskless. So if that ruins it for you, sit this one out.

snippet:

He steps forward into your space, jacket in hand - actually two jackets, from what you briefly see, one inside the other - and throws it past you, adding it to yours on the couch. He’s right next to you. So close. Close enough to smell that heavenly, manly cocktail wafting off him. And then he leans in, close enough for you to hear him breathing. You look up, hoping you can shake something to say or do, but all words evaporate from your brain as you look in his eyes.  “Second thoughts?” he asked, scanning your face.

friday

You’re running through the night then, hand in hand, laughing, breathless and cold - so eager now to get him home. A thought spikes though your mind: who are you? Who are you pretending to be? Changing the second some guy showed you some attention. You shiver, it’s just the wind nipping at your ears, you tell yourself. The leather of your jacket is quickly chilling your arms, barely keeping the cold from cutting through to your bare shoulders. Your only warmth is pooled in yours and Simon’s joined hands. Just feeling his hand holding yours, completely covering it, protecting it from the cold, it makes you forget how sore and numb your feet are. You hadn’t planned to be on your feet all night, let alone for all of this to happen. 

You’re lucky your place is only a few blocks away now. 

You squeezed his hand when you turned the corner and your building came into view. He’s always right behind you, silent, keeping watch. You looked up and down the street and then back at him. You’ve still got that same stupid smile plastered on your face from when he had slapped your butt. With a cant of your head, you pulled Simon across the intersection. You wished you could look at him, figure out what he was thinking, but his face is buried in the shadow of the street light behind him. His hair a halo, glowing bright and blond in the old yellow light. Somewhere in that shadow are his eyes, those beautiful dark eyes. You want to look at him and know he still wants this, but you’re denied.  

On the little concrete step outside the main door, you fished out your keys as Simon stood close, blocking the wind that howled down the street. You trembled, not from the cold, but at his hands as they slid protectively over your hips. You’re significantly warmer where his body and jacket covered you. It’s got to be a damn good jacket. Of course it is. A practical, military, guy like him wouldn’t be caught out in all sorts of weather in just any old flimsy jacket. As you unlocked the door, he rested his head on your shoulder. He breathed a warm breath down your neck, goosebumps following in its wake, and you felt all that warmth slide right between your thighs.   

You pushed the door open and it's a relief to finally be inside. It’s still cold in the hall, but there’s no wind and you can feel your body heat - and Simon’s, he’s still stuck to your side - able to warm you up again. Simon followed as you turn immediately to the first door on the left, to your apartment. You stopped to flip through your keys again, nerves setting in as you feel Simon just standing over you. 

“Ground floor?” he questioned. 

“Yeah,” you answered back, fitting your key in the lock. You don’t bother to turn your head to answer. You know you won’t be able to see him. “Rent is cheaper.”  

 It’s just as cold inside your apartment as it is in the hallway. With a silent dismay you realize that, once again, you’d left the curtains open. Light from the streetlights dimly shone in, casting the whole of your front room with a sickly yellow tint. It’s enough for you to see by, though, and Simon doesn’t say anything about you leaving the lights off. 

Walking in, you aren’t sure what you should do next. You back yourself quickly down your tiny entry, trying to leave enough room for Simon to maneuver. Shoes. Shoes should come off, you urge yourself. You kick off your boots, sending them clattering across the floor into the living room. Okay, now your jacket. With a shiver you unzip your jacket. The giant zipper on your vintage jacket is loud. Too loud. You realize that no, it’s just too quiet in here. 

You looked away from your hands clasped nervously at your zipper. Simon is leaned against the opposite wall, following your lead. All of his attention is focused on working his boot laces open. He lets it drop to the floor, the loud THUNK making you jump, before moving onto the next. It takes your alcohol soaked, lust-addled, numb from the cold, brain until he straightens up  and away from the wall to take off his jacket to realize you’ve just been standing there, watching him while doing nothing, this whole time. You finally let your jacket fall off your arms before tossing it behind you onto the couch.

The realization comes crushing down on you as you watch him roll his shoulders back to pull his jacket off. Well, two realizations. 

Firstly, holy fuck, were you really going to do this? You want this, you know that. Even your nerves can’t will away the want curling in your core now. This is all too crazy, though. How in the hell did you manage to trick this tall, handsome soldier into following you home? 

Secondly, goddamn, you can’t believe how massive he is. Now that you have your apartment as a frame of reference, it’s making your mouth run dry. Your mind is running wild over thinking again. Do you get into things right away? Should you initiate? Does he expect that?

Your train of thought comes to a sudden stop when you look up and he’s staring right at you with those dark, serious, eyes.  

He steps forward into your space, jacket in hand - actually two jackets, from what you briefly see, one inside the other - and throws it past you, adding it to yours on the couch. He’s right next to you. So close. Close enough to smell that heavenly, manly cocktail wafting off him. And then he leans in, close enough for you to hear him breathing. You look up, hoping you can shake something to say or do, but all words evaporate from your brain as you look in his eyes.

“Second thoughts?” he asked, scanning your face. 

His breath is warm and whiskey-sharp. Fuck, you’re staring at his lips now and It makes you bite your own. He bends down slightly to rub his hands against his jeans for warmth. 

You shook your head, your soft no trapped between your faces. His barely warmed fingers graze your cheek not a second later. You breathed a moan, silent and needy, across his hand. Staring into his eyes, the absurd thought floats across your mind of how you wished you hadn’t taken off your shoes. You felt too small as he leaned down to finally, finally, kiss you. 

His other hand stopped your head from crashing back against the wall, but you don’t think you would have noticed or cared. You didn’t care that your noses crushed a little too aggressively together before you could make yourself to tilt your head, or how neither of you wanted to let go to let the other breathe. You were instantly addicted to his heat, his breath, his mouth and the chaste kisses he’s pressing slowly across your lips, the way he gently holds your head. You grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him in. You needed him closer, and, with a groan, he gave it to you. You ran your hands up to his hair as he nipped your lip, pulling your mouth open with a moan. 

His hands released your face, drifting down to your waist to pull you off the wall and into his arms. He slowly smoothed up your ribs to your hips, warming your chilled body with his hands. You relaxed into this warm little bubble he created, opening up. All too quick though, he pulled away. As much as your hands would let him, that is. Your eyes fluttered back open as he breathed a whiskey-hot breath across your face and cleared his throat. 

“Anything you need to tell me about?” he asked, a new seriousness to his voice. 

You shook your head. He didn’t move. That answer apparently wasn’t to his satisfaction.

“No,” you answered. Then, after a pause, you asked “You?”

His thumb swiped at your bottom lip, pulling it open. His heavy eyes watched as you so sweetly allowed him to continue petting at your lip, deeper and deeper into your mouth, until his thumb met your tongue. 

“No” he answered, pressing his lips to yours. 

The kiss quickly turned deeper, messier, needier. From the first time his tongue ran over yours, you were lost. It was hard enough for you to remember to breathe, let alone give anything back as he did all the work of making out with you, but you didn’t care. You let him press you back against the wall and devour your mouth. Fuck, was all you could think. Fuck, you need this so bad. He was so warm, the sharp alcohol taste melting away until it was just him. You kept your hands in his hair, running your fingers through it and earning a groan against your mouth. He was running his hands, those huge hands of his, over your body, trying to figure out how to get you out of your clothes. One hand broke its way past the band of your leggings and the other sloped up your bare back under your lace and velvet. 

He pulled you apart, haggard breathing filling the room. 

“’s your room?” he slurred against your ear, voice deep and husky already. 

You nodded, eyes still shut and mouth open. You hopped he was talking about the door across the room, which was your bedroom, and not the one farther along that same wall, which lead to the bathroom. You didn’t have time to detangle your arms from Simon to do anything, let alone help, as he simply picked you up, earning a little squeal as he squeezed your ass, walking you quickly across the room.

Once inside, he set you down on your low bed. The platform kept your box spring and mattress technically off the floor, and that had been good enough for you at the time you moved in. Now, with all six feet whatever of Simon towering over it, it felt ridiculous. At least your mattress would be large enough for the two of you. Simon stood between your legs for a moment before kneeling down to your level. The light from your living room windows silhouetted him in the inky dark. If you had all of your brain functions, you would have been sad to lose the ability to see him. He pulled your face to his, your cold noses touching as he pulled your shirts over your head. 

“Won’t keep you in the cold for long, love,” he groaned, hands circling your rib cage. 

He pressed a kiss to your lips, then your throat, right above your necklace, clavicle, sternum, traveling down until he nestled his face in between your breasts. He stayed there, breathing in your skin and sighing as you ran your hands through his hair again. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he said pulling away with a kiss to each breast before popping open the closure on the front of your bra. 

You shivered at the sudden cold on your chest, letting your bra fall off your back. You reached up to unclasp your choker with shaking hands. You threw it softly into a pile of clothes at the foot of your bed. He allowed himself to cup one breast in his hand for a second, his rough palm sliding across the nipple, sending spines of need straight down to your cunt. Letting go reluctantly, he pulled your leggings down your hips. You hopped up so he could shuck them off completely, leaving you naked except for your panties. He didn’t take any time to touch you after he threw them to the floor. 

“Get under before y’ freeze,” he urged you. 

You didn’t wait for another command. You dove under your duvet, pulling it up to your nose, willing it to make you warm again. You had actually forgotten you were cold. You were finding It was frighteningly easy to forget things while he had his hands on you. Standing back up, Simon pulled his shirt off and threw it in front of him into the dark abyss of your bed. You watched his silhouette as he opened his jeans. The zipper far too loud and metallic for the little space. He hissed as he shuffled his pants down his thighs. You squinted into the darkness. You could just make him out holding his cock, still in his briefs, against his stomach.

“Still sure you want this?” he asked, voice thin and restrained, standing over you. 

You didn’t answer, but instead reached a hand out of your blanket cocoon toward him. He took it. You heard his jeans finish falling to the floor and then felt his knee push into the mattress. Your bed didn’t complain half as loud as you expected it to under his added weight. He pulled up the blankets around you, covering himself once he found you. 

He crowded into your space, legs and arms wrapping around you, tucking you under his chin and covering you with his body. He held you like this for a while, warming you until your shivers stopped. You sighed against his chest, running your hands up and down him, feeling his scars. God he had so many scars. What had happened to him? He held you tighter, hands resting on your shoulder and waist. His breath softened, coming less and less haggard as you continued to smooth your palms over his skin. You both could have fallen asleep like this. 

He lightly kissed your forehead, right at your hairline, and it felt . . . different. This didn’t feel like a random hookup anymore. Lust was bleeding into something more, something deeper. You knew that you didn’t take just any guy home. It took a lot for you to open up enough to even talk to a guy, let alone get this far. How and why this was happening so fast, you didn’t know. Maybe your body knew better than your brain and overrode your usual self tonight. Maybe it knew, or thought it knew, that he was different, special even. You closed your eyes. Or maybe you were just wishing it was so. 

Simon hitched your leg up over his hip. His hand trailed from your knee to your hip, tracing the lace of your underwear down to where you were pressed together, right to your naval. He stopped for a second, lingering before pressing his fingers against your sex, sliding down your clothed folds. You sighed a whine, breath bouncing against his chest and back to your face. He slowly drifted his hands up and down and you could feel your slick leaking though the cloth onto his fingers. Oh fuck. You let your head fall down onto his bicep where he curled his arm around you. You bucked your hips into his touch. God you wanted him. Needed him. Needed to go wherever this ended. Needed to feel wanted again.

He pulled his hand away and pushed you onto your back. Your vision filled with his darker form against the room before he crashed his lips down onto you. His fingers came back, circling your hole as you whined into his mouth. 

He cracked his mouth away. “D’ y’ like that, love? Want me to finger you?” 

You were nodding, begging him to continue without words before he finished his sentence. He was eager to slide his hand down your panties. His fingers met your clit and you keened against his mouth. He was hovering just far enough above you to drink in your whines and moans or to lean in for a kiss when he wanted. It had been too long since someone else had touched you, let alone well. He swore as he swiped down your clit, working your slick around the little nub. 

“Y’ fucking wet,” he groaned, sliding his fingers lower, dipping into your hole, probing and stretching your skin. Fuck, his fingers were thick. “So fucking wet.”

You crossed your arms closer behind his neck, forcing him down to you, as he pushed a finger in. The fullness, the rough drag of his skin inside you, against your softest parts, even the angle he was able to get, one that you were never able to reach, it was unraveling you. You were reminding yourself to breathe between moans as he fucked into you. Eventually, he decided that your panties were in his way, so he pulled away and shucked them off. He quickly covered you again, filling your mouth with his tongue and cunt with his finger. He propped himself off you to watch as you melted to the pump of his hand. 

His other hand wiped away the stray hairs from your forehead. “So pretty f’ me,” he sighed as he watched you. 

“Fuck. Si.” You cried into the cold air. You weakly tried to pull him back down. He was too far away. You needed him back, right next to you, breathing each other’s breaths. He groaned, leaning back down for another kiss. 

“Yeah? Close? Gonna cum for me?” He said teasing a second finger inside you, thumb working circles on your clit. 

You felt like you were going to die in the best way. Your hands fell off his shoulders to cover your face as your eyes screwed shut. You could get used to feeling his rough skin dragging inside you, making you feel so full as he stroked that spot inside you that made you clench embarrassingly hard and drool down his hand. You felt lightheaded. Stars were popping in front of your eyes, small and bright. 

His free hand shoved your wrists above your head so he could see you. You wouldn’t know. You couldn’t see anything. Even if the lights had been on, you don’t think you could make yourself think right now.  

“Hear me?” He growled in your ear, voice impossibly low, fingers not stopping. 

Your breath caught in your throat. Fuck. You didn’t know you wanted that. Your body went taught, clenching around his fingers. 

“Yes,” you squeaked, dissolving into a moan. 

You felt the hand containing your wrists come down to stroke at your cheek. His thumb pressed harder to your clit as a reward. 

“Please Si,” you cried, “please please please.”

It only took a few more circles of your clit before you were cuming, trembling and keening helplessly in his arms. He waited, head hanging to your chin, breathing haggardly across your chest, for you to come down before pulling his fingers out of you. He brought them to his mouth as he sat up, humming in satisfaction as he sucked off your wetness. He leaned down for a quick kiss, your taste lingering on your lips. 

“Done well, love,” he said pulling your legs farther apart so he could pull your bodies flush. 

His hard cock, still clothed, rubbed up your oversensitive pussy. Simon groaned at the same time you whined. Your head went swirling again. God, you needed him inside you. You didn’t care how. You would make it work. You used your knees on his hips to pull his briefs down. He read your obvious intentions and helped you finish pulling his underwear off, kicking them down into your bed. 

He pressed himself to you again, this time letting you feel his length bare as he slid across your folds. He cut off a loud groan in his throat, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder as he did it again. You threw your head back, eyes shut again as he nudged your clit with every thrust. Your moans were silent at this point, absolutely useless. 

“Si,” you cried bucking up into him, “Want you. Please.” 

He kissed your shoulder. “Yeah?” he asked in a husky whisper. “Want this?” he said grasping his cock at the base, pressing the weight of it into your stomach. “Think you can take all this in that little pussy of yours, love?” 

You clenched at the thought of it. Fuck yes you wanted it. You can take it. You nodded earnestly, hair fluttering against his face. He pulled himself up to lean on his forearm, the one with all of the tattoos, next to your head. His other hand guided his tip to rest at your entrance. Fuck. Even that felt huge. You bit your lip to suppress the wanton moans that just the thought of his cock pressing into you were pulling out of you. 

You felt his face over yours, lips almost touching. 

“Wanna hear you,” he whispered across your lips. 

You let go of your bottom lip. He kissed you for only a second before pulling back a breath and pushing an inch into your hot, wet cunt. 

You wailed. Actually wailed. He was big, really big. There was no getting around that. You hissed out a breath to steady yourself. He was definitely the biggest you’d ever had. No fucking doubt. You felt Simon sweetly press his forehead to yours. He waited for your breaths to even out before pulling out to the head and thrusting ever so slowly back in. 

“Doin’ good f’ me,” he said petting down your side, hand coming back to rest on your hips. 

He gave you another kiss, distracting you as he shallowly pulled out and fucked back in. You lay back and tried to relax as he set a slow rhythm, just barely pushing in a bit with every thrust. You must have lost your mind, because the stretch was addicting. It was nothing like your first time, or any other time after. Feeling his cock work inside you, filling you so wondrously full with just an edge of pain, you were in heaven. 

Until you weren’t. You hit your limit right in the middle of that fat fucking cock of his. The heavy thickness of it was testing the stretch limit of your hole and the head was poking painfully at your cervix. You pushed your hand against his shoulder. 

“That’s it. No more,” you said with a wince. 

He nodded, stopped and sat up. He pulled out a bit, relieving the uncomfortable pressure in your pussy, then set another slow pace. 

“Better?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you said, melting back into the bed with his thrusts. 

You wished you could see yourself now, as you looked up at him. What had you done to deserve such a guy? You heard him lick his thumb, as if you needed it. He started to work circles around your clit again. He hummed as you arched into his touch. 

“Knew y’ couldn’t take it all,” he teased, laughing under his breath. 

He repositioned your legs, pressing them toward your chest so he could fuck right across your g-spot, thumb still pressed to your clit. Any comment you could have made at his words fucked instantly out of you as you saw stars. 

“Boys y’ fucked before never had that problem, eh?” The cocky bastard said with a smile. 

“Ah! Fuck! Si!” you cried with every thrust as he built you toward your second high. 

“Gonna cum again f’ me?” He asked, pace increasing. 

You heard your bed start to creak. You thanked God once again that you lived on the bottom floor. You couldn’t believe you were going to not only cum twice, but cum on his cock. Something you thought was impossible, at least for you. 

“Y’ ever cum more than once?” Simon hummed, smoothing his hand up your stomach and chest.

“No,” you whined, mind swimming deliriously numb with pleasure. 

“Cum f’ me then, love,” he said, voice dripping gravel in your ear as he tweaked your clit, sending you over the edge. 

Cumming before had felt amazing, but this - this - was untoppable. Your head was swimming with emotions. You felt like laughing, crying, screaming all at once. You settled for pulling his head into your shoulder. You cried as you clenched down around him, holding his cock hard enough to force him to stop moving. He held you through it again, waiting for you to come back to earth, still numb, fuzzy, and spinning. That was probably the best orgasm you’d had . . .  ever.  

You were still laying in your afterglow, breathing in gasps, when Simon pressed a kiss to your face. You felt his cool, wet lips against the hot blush of your cheeks. He must have been biting his lip, willing himself not to cum with you, or inside you. 

“Where you want it?” He whispered into your ear. 

“On me,” you answered. “Wanna see it.”

He groaned, allowing himself to thrust in again. Your pussy squelched obscenely around him. 

“. . . yeah?” He replied weakly, voice faltering. 

You must have hit on something he liked to so quickly drain all the bravado from him. He nestled his face close enough to touch noses with you. He held you as close as he could in his arms, letting you splay your legs against his back as he fucked into you, rocking forward and back in a slow slide. 

“Want me t’ make a mess of y’? That’s what y’ want?”

“Yes,” you breathed across his mouth. 

Then, all the chains came off. He dove into your mouth, sucking on your tongue and moaning like a man starved. He fucked you at a frantic pace, finally able to hit you deep again and again and again. All you could do was claw at his back and neck and hold on for dear life. 

Suddenly, he gasped into your mouth then pushed himself up. He let himself fuck one last thrust into your sinfully wet pussy before he pulled out and worked himself over your stomach. He whined as he came, falling forward onto his other hand, sending spurts of cum up your torso. He caught his breath for a few seconds before he pulled himself up onto his knees. He spent another minute admiring his work. 

“L’s g’d on y’,” he slurred, pulling at the skin on your belly where it was forming a pool. 

He slid out of bed, careful not to let the blankets fall onto you. He fished his briefs out and stepped into them with a wobble, eyes never leaving the silver shine across your torso.  

“Bathroom?” He asked pointing his thumb behind him to the only other door in your apartment. 

You nodded. 

“Lemme clean y’ up,” he said snapping the elastic up over his still-hard cock. 

He adjusted himself as he wandered out of your bedroom. You heard him bump against the door frame and then again on the bathroom door. You lay back with your hands over your face, trying not to laugh. You heard the top of your dirty clothes bin hit the wall as he flipped it open, then the soft shuffling of the towels and clothes inside. The lid was flipped back down with a soft thwack. The faucet turned on, ran for a second, then turned off.

Simon appeared back in your doorway a moment later, more stable on his feet now. He kneeled over you, cleaning you off with the hand towel. You hissed as he swiped the cold, wet cloth up your torso. 

“Okay?” he asked. His warm hand followed behind the towel, warming and drying you, finding any spatters he had missed as well. 

“Yeah,” you answered, soothed by his touch, by the amount of care and effort he was showing to you: a random hookup.

He tossed the towel behind him, adding to the jungle of clothes that scattered your floor. He rested his knee back on the bed, leaning down to clear a space in the bed with his arms, part of which you were occupying.

“Move on in then, love,” he softly commanded.

You reluctantly gave up your warm spot, inching over toward the wall. Once he had made space for his massive frame, he made himself comfortable by squishing the pillow into position and pulling your blankets up over his shoulder. You were about to do the same, try to get comfortable in the cold corner you had been exiled to in your own bed, when you felt his hands grab at your hips.

“Get over here. Warm y’ up,” he said.

You helped him pull your back against his chest. You relaxed, laying your head on his arm as he held you with the other. He even let you twine your fingers together. You felt his breath ruffle through your hair where his face was pressed. You closed your eyes and listened to the soft pound of his heart as you drifted off.

-

a/n: this is baby author's first (published) smut, so if it's horrible and unrealistic please let me know! girlie is doing her best! also my hands hurt so bad omg

[sassykattery]

Dollface Pt 9

Sorry for the delay. Shall we continue?

CW: MC is afab. Beginning is the continuation of the sex scene from part 8. Mention male genitalia.

The main character is afab, uses she/her pronouns. This story is meant to be somewhat curvy/plus-sized reader insert, but the main character is given a physical description, but it's not crucial to the story or mentioned often after Part 1.

Characters: Main Character. Diavolo. Mammon. Satan. Beel. Belphie. Levi. Asmo. Lucifer. Mention Barbatos.

Themes: Romance. Magic. Adventure. Sex. Diavolo x fem! MC.

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Masterlist

Enjoy

"I apologize, my love, I let my jealousy get the better of me," Diavolo murmured quietly, taking in her dazed appearance. She laid there with her arms out to the sides, legs back down on the floor.

"That... was the sexiest moment of my life," she mumbled in reply, eyes fluttering. His own brows raised, and his eyes widened, surprised by the admission.

"It's not a favorable look for me, so I do try not to be," he admitted sheepishly. "I've been able to keep it in check when other humans come too close, and I can tell they want you, but when it's a demon... That's something I can't overlook."

She finally focused on his face and smiled sweetly. He relaxed slightly and brushed her hair off her neck and face.

"I didn't know you had that in you," she added with a naughty grin. "I like seeing you jealous."

Knock knock knock

Diavolo instantly growled and looked over his shoulder. It didn't help he was still balls-deep inside his human lover, as the jealousy still hadn't quite faded yet. Turning back to her, he sighed. "Shall I get that?"

"Maybe not like this," she said with a chuckle. He chuckled too and carefully pulled away, helping to put her back together as well as himself. He flicked her shirt into his hand with magic and handed it back to her. Once ready, the doorbell then rang, and Diavolo got up to answer.

"What is it?" Diavolo snapped as he opened it, and immediately his eyes went wide and jaw dropped.

"D-Diavolo?"

"Lucifer?"

Both demons stood there in absolute shock, and, quickly, the human woman came up behind the prince and peaked around to see what the issue was, only to find that demon that had bought her coffee earlier that same day was now at her door.

"It's you," she murmured, looking at the man she had known as "Luci" previously.

It was silent again between the three, and nervously, she slid her arm into Diavolo's, feeling worried.

"Wh– How did you find me?" Diavolo asked in astonishment.

"It wasn't easy, but we've been following a rather sparse trail to find you in this area," Lucifer replied. His eyes darted to the human at Diavolo's flank, and they narrowed in agitation. "All because some little human has been keeping you here."

Instantly, her blood pressure spiked and blood boiled at that remark. Feeling her irritation, Diavolo put his hand on hers in solidarity. But before the prince could say much, the woman piped up,

"Some little human? I have a name, you know. And I haven't been "keeping him." He's been staying with me," she snapped, coming around Diavolo's form and standing up to the Avatar.

Lucifer's brows raised at her insolence but kept it together for the prince's sake. "She's correct, Lucifer," Diavolo affirmed. "Why don't you come in and talk?" Lucifer and the woman glared at one another, but eventually she conceded, waving them toward the kitchen table in the dining space.

Once all three were sat, Lucifer started in, "How long have you been here? How did you even get here?"

"It's a long story," the prince replied with a sigh. "I was turned into a doll when I touched a cursed text back at the magic item expo I was at back in Kyoto. I ended up here by happenstance, and eventually, the curse broke. This lovely lady has been taking care of me the entire time," he finally beamed at her, taking her hand.

Lucifer looked disgusted then, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. "So you've been playing house with her while we've all been worried sick looking for you, is that right?" He snapped.

Diavolo narrowed his eyes and straightened up. "I appreciate you all looking for me, but as I said, she is the reason I didn't end up in a landfill somewhere or on the streets without a place to stay. She has been nothing but kind and hospitable, even knowing what I am."

Lucifer's jaw dropped. "You told her?"

"I'm tired of you speaking like I'm not here," the woman barked at Lucifer. "Yes, I've made sure Diavolo has had clothes, food, and somewhere to stay ever since he became human. I took care of him as a doll, too, making sure he didn't get lost or torn. And yes, again, he told me about who you all are."

"It took about a week for the curse to break, and then a couple more days after that for my magic to return," Diavolo finally added.

"If your magic returned that long ago, then why did you not come find us?" Lucifer asked indignantly.

The prince sighed, looking askance. "This is the first time I've been able to feel "normal" in my entire life, Lucifer. I've learned what it's like to be living as a human, and I've actually enjoyed myself." Diavolo then looked toward the woman beside him. "And I happened to be so lucky as to find love as well."

Lucifer rubbed his temples and groaned. "Diavolo, you know this can't work–"

"How is everyone else doing? Where are your brothers?" The Demon Lord interrupted pointedly with a smile.

The Avatar of Pride bristled and bit his tongue. After taking a pause, he sighed again. "They're nearby. I had a feeling you were here, and I told them to stay close in case I needed them. Barbatos stayed in Japan to manage your hotel and keep an eye out in case you returned."

Diavolo nodded. "That's just as well." He looked to his human partner. "Might they come in to say hello?"

"I guess..." she said with hesitation. She hopped off the chair and walked over to the front door, where she saw some shadows lingering in the window of the door.

While the human was getting the door, Lucifer and Diavolo gave each other meaningful looks, clearly communicating silently.

Diavolo, you can't be serious.

I assure you, I am serious.

You need to come back with us immediately.

I will come back, but not without her.

Please, just let her down so we can go–

No.

Diavolo.

I said no.

Slowly, she unlocked it and opened the door. Before her stood six very tall men, two of which she had met already. They all looked down at her and she craned her neck up to look at them.

"Well, I guess you can come in," she stated flatly, gesturing for them to enter. They filed in quietly, and the prince and eldest all met them in the living room.

"Go on," Lucifer told his brothers.

One by one, they introduced themselves to the woman, and Asmodeus was the first to approach, looking her over.

"I mean, those photos did no justice to you. You're even prettier in person," the fifth born commented.

"Asmo," Lucifer groaned.

"Photos?" She immediately inquired. "What, like you all were tracking me?"

There was a stunned silence until Diavolo came around to put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure it was just so they could find me. Right?" He said, looking up at the rest of the group with a knowing smile, as in, they should agree or they'll hear about it later. They started nodding in agreement.

"This is where you live? It's a bit smaller than the houses in the Devildom," Satan mused, looking around and reaching up to touch the ceiling by barely raising his arm.

"Our average height is nearly a whole foot shorter than that of demons," she quipped. Satan smirked and nodded, appreciating her wit.

"Well, what do we do now?" Beel asked.

"You all can't stay here. This is my parents' house. They've been nice enough to let Dia stay, but I don't think they'll go for seven more," she replied hesitantly.

"I think it's time we take Diavolo and go then," Mammon suggested, walking towards the door.

"Excuse me?" The woman called out in aggravation. Mammon found himself immediately halting as she latched onto his jacket sleeve. He looked down at her to see such fury in her eyes. "Go where, exactly? Who do you think you are?"

Mammon's eyes flickered back and forth between the demons behind her, and this short human still gripped onto his jacket sleeve. No one was willing to stop her, and the longer Mammon studied her, the more he realized he rather liked this spicier side of her.

"Uh... Nevermind. Let go, will ya?" He conceded, batting her hand away. She finally let him go to return to Diavolo's side, but he kept an eye on her nonetheless.

"I imagine we need to see Barbatos, to let him know I'm alright. I'm sure he's absolutely livid with the whole situation," Diavolo said with a sigh. He felt the woman's hand grip onto his, and he looked down at her. "You'll, of course, come with us, yes?"

She looked up at the group before her and then back up at the prince. "I think we need to talk about this, privately, first."

Diavolo's brows went up but he ultimately nodded, letting her take his hand and lead the two into her bedroom down the hall. Once the door was closed, he put his hand on the door and hexed the room to keep prying demons out of their conversation.

"Are you leaving?" She asked quietly, crossing her arms and looking down at the floor. He immediately knew she was disheartened.

"Not without you, darling," Diavolo replied. "I'm not going anywhere without you, I told you."

"But... you need to," she replied.

"Yes, I do, but I want you with me. I want to take you to my world," he insisted with a smile, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "You mean everything to me..."

"... I don't think I belong in your world," she replied, looking up at him. "After seeing everyone else... do you honestly think I'll survive? I barely survive in my own world."

Diavolo tilted his head. "With me at your side, love, there's nothing that you can't do. You'll have everything and anything you need, at your beck and call, waiting at your fingertips," he explained to her. "My love, I can't do this without you. You're the one with whom I share a kindredship with... I'm bound to you, and you're bound to me."

Tears filled her eyes. "Yes, but..." She looked to the door and sighed. "My family isn't there. I don't want to leave my parents alone... and they love you too."

Diavolo nodded. "Your parents feel just as much my own as they are yours... and I appreciate everything they've done for you and for me. But I think they'd understand that it's time for you to do what makes you happy, to move on and live your life." He paused. "I make you happy, don't I?"

She sighed again. "Yes, of course you do. I've never felt such joy and love in my life before you..." Her gaze fell to the floor again. "Let me think about it, okay? I... It's a big decision I have to make."

"Of course, all the time you need is yours," Diavolo replied with a smile, though his anxiety was still burning beneath the skin.

"So... are we going to Japan then?" She asked. "I would like to meet the man, er, demon, who's taken care of you all these years," she replied with a smile.

Diavolo gave a wider smile and swooped in to hug her tightly. "Yes! I am sure Barbatos will adore you. He's a trustworthy and faithful demon." She smiled and hugged him back, still worried about what was to happen next.

"Welcome to Japan," Diavolo murmured as he held her hand, walking out of his private jet. The brothers all trailed behind them.

The plane ride was... interesting to the say the least.

"Did you have sex yet?" Asmo asked boisterously as he sat her on his lap.

"Asmo," Lucifer warned.

"You play games? And do makeup? And you're smart? Not bad for a normie," Levi cooed, watching her with his head on his palm, resting his elbow on a tray.

"Tell me, did you always want to be a doctor? Or how did that come about?" Satan asked, pulling her to sit next to him after Asmo.

"You like food too? I want to show you all the food I like, if that's okay. And I want to know what food you like," Beel murmured to the human with a smile as they had lunch on the jet.

"Hm, you like sleep? But you don't get a lot of it? I can fix that," Belphie offered. "I take naps all the time, it wouldn't be hard."

Of course, even after their tense introduction, Mammon and the woman bonded over shopping while looking at his D.D.D. "We have brands like Wersace, Devil Vuitton, and more. I think you'll like it. Oh, there's this handbag I think you'd enjoy..."

Lucifer watched the whole thing unfold with a frown, as each of his brothers took to her so easily, and yet, for him, it was like a fight with her every step of the way. That was, until they had all fallen asleep, and she was moving about the cabin of the jet in black and gold pajamas that were gifted to her with "D" printed on the breast pocket.

"I thought I was the only one who couldn't sleep on planes," Lucifer replied, reading a document with his reading glasses on.

"I don't sleep well in general, I'm not going to sleep thirty-five thousand feet in the air in a metal tube," she quipped, stopping beside the eldest brother. He placed the document down and let his eyes scan from her hip up to her eyes as she looked at him. With a sigh, she took the chair across from his and sat.

"Anxiety, insomnia, and fear of heights, then?" Lucifer asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Guilty," she replied, looking to the side, folding her arms.

Lucifer looked out to the others as they slept soundly throughout the cabin. He then looked to her and set his coffee cup down, willing to finally have a conversation with her.

"What about me makes you so uncomfortable?" He asked quietly, getting straight to the point.

"Trying to take the love of one's life isn't exactly the most ideal way to get them to like you, Lucifer," she answered a bit bluntly. "Besides, you're a little snobby for a grumpy old demon."

Lucifer huffed in disbelief at her continued insolence. "He's the crowned prince of the Devildom. It's part of my job to work with him, and by you keeping him here, the very realm we're from is in mass chaos. He needs to go to his home so that the three realms don't come crashing down in flames with war because a silly little girl has a crush on him."

Slowly, she rose to her feet and came around the table between them and leaned over Lucifer, a menacing gaze in her eyes and all seriousness in her tone. "I'm well aware of who he is and the responsibilities he upholds. But did you ever wonder why he never chose to come back at his first opportunity? Do you truly think a large, royal, powerful demon like Diavolo wouldn't be able to just leave?"

"He's immature and too kind for his own good. He's infatuated with humans and always takes the opportunity to lower himself to you all to satiate his curiosities," Lucifer snapped in a hushed tone, venom in his words.

The woman stood there for a moment and brought her face closer. "Tell me who was close to you that got too close to humans, and that's why you hold a grudge against me," she bit back. Lucifer sat there stunned, and he snatched a hold of the collar of her shirt.

"Watch yourself, brat. Don't you dare say anything like that to me again, or–"

She then lurched forward, planting her knee between his upper thighs and bringing her face just an inch from his while her hands landed on the headrest of his chair and on the table individually. "Or what? You'll blow me up? You're scared. I can see it in the way you watch your brothers, Diavolo, and more importantly, me. I'm some little girl, just like you said. What about me has you so worked up that you insist on berating me to make yourself feel better?"

Time slowed down for a moment as Lucifer processed the situation. This human woman had so much to fear. She feared flying more than she feared Lucifer, or at least that she had little fear to show toward him. She had the gall to argue with a ten-million-year-old fallen angel, now-turned-demon, right hand to the throne's current occupant. It surely wasn't Diavolo who instilled this sort of unfounded bravery within her. So then, how did she find the ability to go head-to-head with one of the oldest living beings in existence?

Lucifer snatched a hold of her chin and forced her to look directly at him. He searched her eyes and tried to find something within her that would explain her odd behavior. Humans feared and lusted for him, but they never spoke to him without such reverence and awe. But this one... she lacked any sort of survival instinct when she spoke to him.

And then it hit him.

He remembered that day, like it was only yesterday.

Lucifer remembered what he had been told, and he was sitting at his desk in the Celestial Realm, some of his stoles tossed aside to stay out of his way as he worked with his hands. It wasn't often his father asked him to do this kind of project, but had insisted it was important Lucifer was the one to do it, and only him. Lucifer had shooed off his younger brothers, all five of them, giving them all work to do so they'd stay out of his way. He was already having doubts about his position in this world, seeing more than he ever meant to, no longer willingly blind to what his father did. He was still compliant to a point, and he thought this task was something he could be over with and done in an hour.

"Prideful yet humble, sweet yet unyielding, beautiful but unassuming. Steadfast and headstrong, but loving and empathetic."

Lucifer replayed the words in his head as he moved his hands around, crafting the soul his father tasked him with. The rest was up to Lucifer, which was another odd parameter for what his father was requesting him to make. He began stitching together the soul threads, weaving them in intricate patterns as the larger design began to unfold. He got out the soul loom and began adding herringbone patterns over the emotions, houndstooth over the logic, tumbling block patterns across the creativity, and silk weaves across their appearances.

A beautiful tapestry came out of the loom, and Lucifer pinned it on the table to look it over. He began to get out more tools from the soul kit and started adding embellishments to the tapestry, flairs of sass and flamboyance along with reserved moments of clarity using stones. Beading was sewn into the heart strings, someone who would love so fiercely but holding it for only those who deserve it. Prisms were laid into the heart and mind. Stardust was poured into their essence of life, filling the tapestry with volume.

It went without saying, he put his heart into this design. One could say he could hear a symphony in his head as he worked, and he was merely recording the score on the sheet music before him. He didn't leave his room for an entire day, and he wasn't even sure when he'd actually finished.

When angels created souls, the colors of their soul threads would not come until the portrait was finished, and they wouldn't know it was finished until those colors started to fill the design.

Lucifer stared at the design before him, trying to figure out what the finishing piece was. He stared at the image for a long time before sorting through his soul kit to look for a finishing touch. He found more rocks, stones, precious jewels and metals, clay, earth, stardust, rare elements, and none of them did it just right for this one. After several minutes of thought, he simply laid his hand upon the center of it, and the soul threads then filled with life, expanding and filling with colors.

His touch was the finishing touch. This soul was given Lucifer's Blessing.

He watched with pride and then with curiosity. Varying tones of gray and shadow blue filled the tapestry, with dark gray beginning to line the edges. The threads shifted and moved, creating the Fuch's crypts, the stoning and beading aligning with the collarettes.

They say you never forget your first, but does one ever forget their last?

And Lucifer swore he'd never forget the pair of irises he was then staring at in this woman before him, the ones that held the last soul he ever created.

"Oh," he whispered, seeing the very tapestry he made that day living and breathing before him. This soul was very old, he realized, and very special to him. She had been around for a long time, and he was starting to recognize her threads. He could see it now. Something made by him, of course, would bear some resemblance to him in personality, and his own design wouldn't be afraid of him, not like his father.

"What do you mean, "oh"?" She asked indignantly, trying to pull her chin away.

"I remember the day you were made..." he murmured in reverence of her.

"You're being super weird, Lucifer," she growled. "What are you talking about?"

"I apologize," he answered, pulling his hand away and letting her pull herself upright. She was still hovering with her knee slotted between his thighs. "Why don't you sit?"

She narrowed her eyes and reluctantly backed off, and Lucifer had to fight the urge to pull her back to sit on his lap.

Once she was sitting, he started to explain, "A very, very long time ago, when I was still an archangel under my father, he tasked me one day to make a soul. I rarely ever did it anymore back then, so I was curious about his motivations. He gave me some parameters to craft the soul with, and I did as he asked. It took me I believe at least a day to finish this one. I had finished most of the soul, but it wouldn't breathe its life until I finally laid my hand on it. I inadvertently blessed it, and it came to life. That soul was the last one I ever made and... that soul is you." His explanation was slow with carefully chosen words.

"...Me? You're saying you made me?" She asked quietly. Her brows pinched together, and she skeptically looked at Lucifer.

"Your soul, yes," he clarified. "Your physical form is entirely just you, and your DNA came from your parents. Your soul... is quite special to me."

She sat back and looked at the floor again, pondering her thoughts about this information.

"I want to apologize for being so gruff with you," he added in place of her silence. "I want to get to know you if you're going to be in our lives for a while."

It took her several minutes of thinking to herself, and finally she looked up. "Where do you want to start?"

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags: @flemmingbamse @delphi-dreamin @biteable-pink-pixie @itsmeninerz @attic-club-sandwich

I apologize for the one month delay. Life has been very stressful since the passing of my rabbit, as well as work being hell for me.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 234. brb x oc

a/n: i can't FIND ANY OTHER GIFS AAAA (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

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-

Since he asked to meet her in one hour, she decided to make the walk to the park short. She could do it while waiting for the time to go to the base, plus, she could get some yoga done with Nikki while enjoying the fresh air around them.

Beatrice sits on the grass with her legs folded and her hands on top of her knees, Nicole is sitting on the space that her legs didn’t close, right in front of her womb, with her own smaller hands on Beatrice’s calves. The dogs were there too, but Jolene chose to stay close to the two, Jack was lying with his legs up in the air right behind Bea and Eleanor…well…she was zooming around the place, avoiding every dog and human she could.

"I don't know why I'm nervous," Beatrice whispered to herself, her voice barely above a murmur. She mentally prepared for her yoga, with Nikki on her all the time. "It's not like I'm alone; the dogs are with us."

Despite the calming presence of her surroundings, a subtle unease still lingered within Beatrice. Maybe it was because Rooster wasn’t there and she didn’t want to leave Nicole alone - not that she would -, having to figure out ways to exercise with her daughter close to herself, “It’s all okay.” she tells herself, feeling the known cold anxiety spike inside of her, “It’s all okay.”

Beatrice took a deep breath, trying to ease her anxiety. She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing, and slowly began to stretch and move into her yoga poses while seated. Nicole watched her mother with curious eyes, turning her head to look back at Beatrice.

Nicole didn’t know what she was doing, but she wanted to try, lifting her tiny arms to mimic Beatrice’s movements. Beatrice couldn't help but smile as she glanced down at her daughter. "You're my little yoga buddy, aren't you?" she whispered, her voice filled with affection. “Maybe one day we can get your dad to join us, he has his own workout routine but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Nicole giggled in response, her small hands reaching out to touch Beatrice's face. Beatrice kisses the top of her head while keeping her eyes alert. She felt like she needed to be aware of her surroundings, not only because of Nikki, but because…of something else she couldn’t describe.

Jolene stayed close, keeping a watchful eye on both Beatrice and Nicole, while Jack continued to lounge in his relaxed position, seemingly unfazed by the world around him.

And Eleanor…well, she leaped over a seated couple and earned a few claps from everyone, so that was good.

As Beatrice transitioned into a seated forward fold, her fingertips grazing the grass,  Nicole chose that moment to climb onto her shoulders and sit on her neck. Beatrice blinked while keeping her head down.

Nikki was still a baby, but the sudden change of weight on her neck made Beatrice stretch even more.

"Be careful, Nikki," she murmured, head touching the grass  "You are also very-” Nicole’s foot appeared in her vision as she turned upside down on her mother’s back, “Flexible.”

Nicole held onto her shirt as she slid all the way down to the yoga mat, rolling onto her back and staying there, looking at the sky, giggling at nothing. Jolene looked back to check on the baby, sniffing her head to make sure she was okay and once she was satisfied she just lied on top of her legs and sighed sleepily.

Beatrice moved into a gentle twist, stretching her spine and feeling the tension release from her muscles, the sudden ‘pop!’ on her back made her eyes snap open - and made the dogs closest to her look up in surprise at the noise - “Ow.” she winces, “Man it’s been a long, long while.” Over a year, if she was right.

She wanted to go back to her routine, not only with yoga but with everything. The last thing she worked on was a few drawings she had, nothing more, she felt like her little studio was abandoned in their house.

Before she continued her stretching, her phone screen blinked up with ‘Leonardo’s name on it. She blinked, then quickly put it on speaker, “Leo?”

“My sweet sister, hi.” it’s been so long since they talked on the phone, but she wasn’t complaining, “Listen…are you busy?”

“Now? Yes.”

“Are you busy this week?”

“...why?”

There was a pause, followed by him cleaning his throat, “Can you..stay with the girls for the weekend? If that’s alright?”

Beatrice furrowed her brow in surprise at Leonardo's request. It wasn't often that he asked her to look after his daughters for an entire weekend, at least, ever since they had Éwoyn that is. "Leo, is everything okay?" she inquired, concern lacing her voice.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line before he responded. "Yeah, Bea, everything's fine. It's just... I've got this work thing that's come up suddenly, and I need to travel out of town for the weekend. I didn't want to disrupt the girls' routines, and I know they love spending time with you. And Cyn has a…convention? A dentist thing she has to go because it’s something with her old professor too.”

“Oh,I see.”

“I know this is sudden, but Michael is going to visit Gui in New York with Hannah and I don’t want to worry mom and dad since dad is still recovering from everything.”

“Leo, it’s okay. I’ll just talk to Roos about it.” another pop and this time it came from her ankle. She silently screamed, clenching her hand into a fist as she tries to recover…which seemed to be a lot because Leonardo’s voice returned with a concerned question of her name, “I’m okay!Sorry,I’m uh, doing yoga right now.”

Leonardo let out a relieved chuckle on the other end of the line. "Well, good on you for keeping up with it. So, you'll be able to take care of the girls?"

Beatrice rolled her eyes playfully, even though her brother couldn't see her. "Of course, Leo. You know I love spending time with them. But I’ll just let Roos know and then I’ll throw you a message? How’s that?

Her brother audibly sighed in relief. "Thank you, Bea. You're a lifesaver. I'll make it up to you when I'm back."

"Uh-huh." she smiles, “Where exactly are you going?”

 "I'm heading up to Santa Barbara for the weekend. There's this fantastic surf spot I've been wanting to check out for a while. Some friends of mine have been raving about it, and I finally have the chance to catch some waves there."

Beatrice chuckled, finally adjusting her posture. "Of course, you are. And Cynthia has the dentist convention?”

“Yeah, that one isn’t in Cali.” he explains, “It’s in Oregon, actually. She's attending a dental conference up there…she’s also avoiding her uh,sister."

“The essential oils one?”

‘Yep.”

Beatrice hummed quietly, fixing her top and looking back to Nicole to check on her "Well,I’ll talk to Roos and message you, but I’m pretty sure the answer will be yes.”

Leonardo let out a relieved sigh. "Thanks again, Bea. I really appreciate it.I will bring you something special from Santa Barbara."

"Thanks,Leo. Have a great time surfing, and tell Cynthia to have a blast at the convention."

They exchanged their goodbyes, and Beatrice hung up the call, rolling her neck to relax her muscles even more and checking the time to see how much she had left. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that much.

She only had a few minutes.

“Oh,crap.” she whispers, “Alright guys,” she’ll have to go straight to the base, no time to wash up and change, “We are going to the car- Ellie!” the white dog stops zooming to look back at her, “We’re going home, Jojo,Jack-” she picks up Nicole who just laughs once she’s on the air, “Come on.”

Jolene stretches first, waiting for her son and daughter to follow them to the car, trotting behind Bea who just mutters to herself, “I didn’t know I spent so long here.” she whispers, “Dang it…well it’s okay. It’s alright.”

Beatrice quickly gathered her belongings and her three dogs, making her way to the car, making sure everyone was safe and sound inside. Thankfully,the dogs liked to stay around Nikki while she was on her seat, so she could be at peace with that. 

Traffic was light, which was incredible for the middle of the week in San Diego. The California sun bathed the landscape in warm, golden hues, and Beatrice couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of the day. It was…very magical.

She checked the phone again, chewing her lower lip, “I hope I didn’t make him wait long.” she tells herself, “He said he’ll wait for me at the entrance but,” she shrugs, cautiously driving around, “I don’t want to make him stand there.”

Nikki seemed entertained, happily looking around the windows while the dogs were around her, oblivious to her mother's concerns. Beatrice smiled at the sight, only to turn her gaze back to the road.

As she approached the entrance to the naval base, Beatrice's eyes scanned the area, looking for any sign of Rooster. She craned her neck a bit, then smiled the second she spotted him near the gate, looking down at his watch. His other hand was propped on his hip as he stared at his watch, shaking his wrist and then repeating the motion with it’s twin so now he was doing the usual ‘Rooster Hip Pose’.

He looked around a bit, she couldn’t see much because his sunglasses were covering his eyes, but as soon as he noticed the red jeep approaching a toothy grin appeared on his face.

Beatrice's heart skipped a beat as she saw Rooster's familiar grin light up his whole face. She pulled the jeep to a stop near the entrance, and before the engine had even fully quieted, he was already by her door.

Rooster approached her with long strides, his sunglasses perched on his nose, and Beatrice couldn't help but admire him when he got closer .His golden brown hair was tousled from the wind, and his mustache was freshly trimmed.

He waits until she rolls the window down to fold his arms on the space that just opened, giving her a small smirk, “Morning,ma’am.”

“Morning,sir.” she giggles, “...am I…allowed to give you a kiss? It is lunch time…and you are out here…”

Rooster's smirk turned into a mischievous grin at Beatrice's playful question. He leaned in closer, his eyes locked onto hers, his voice low and seductive. "Well, ma'am, I do believe a kiss would be the perfect way to start my lunch break."

Beatrice's cheeks flushed a rosy hue as she reached out, her fingers gently caressing Rooster's cheek before she leaned in to capture his lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. It was a moment of connection and affection that made her heart flutter.

When they finally pulled away, Rooster's eyes sparkled with warmth and desire. "Now that's what I call a welcome," he murmured.

Beatrice couldn't help but chuckle, her eyes still locked on his. "I aim to please, LC."

Rooster grinned, his fingers trailing gently along the side of her neck. "Well, you certainly succeeded." he looks back and immediately grins, “Oh my gosh, everyone is here!” if the constant tapping of tails against the car, and Nicole was there,squealing and trying to reach for him, wasn’t any giveaway he didn’t know what it was.

Rooster made sure to pet the dogs the best he could, then opened the back door to unbuckle Nicole and bring her to his face, “Hi baby girl!” he coos, kissing her soft cheeks, “Hi, hi, dada missed you so much!”

Nicole responded with a series of happy gurgles and babbling, her eyes sparkling with love as she looked up at her father. Rooster held Nicole close,kissing her cheek before turning to Bea who was now walking out of the car.

She holds out her hand, his phone lying on her palm, “Here it is.”

“Thank you gorgeous.” he says, grabbing it and flipping a few times on his hand out of habit, checking the battery life once he was facing the screen, “Did you charge it for me?”

“Yep,you are at the base,” she nods towards it, “And you need it.”

Rooster clicks his tongue bashfully, “You are too cute,” he whispers, still holding Nicole but dropping his gaze on her outfit, “...were you working out before you came over?”

Beatrice glanced down at her workout clothes, suddenly remembering what she was wearing. "Ah,yeah," she admitted with a playful wink. "I thought I'd squeeze in a quick workout. Nicole and I had a good session together."

Rooster chuckled, and even if his eyes were still covered by his sunglasses, she knew he was looking. “Well…you look great.”

“Yeah?”

“Always.”

Beatrice huffed out an embarrassed little laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Four years and he still has that effect on her, she was doomed, “Um.well, yeah…uh…” his smirk only widened when she fumbled with her words, “Leo called.”

“Oh?”

“He asked if we can stay with the girls this weekend.” she crossed her arms, shrugging at him, “I said I’d talk to you first. He and Cyn have their own things to do and he doesn’t want to bother my parents with the girls since…well…”

Rooster nodded, understanding the situation and remembering why they’d be so cautious. "I see," he replied, his expression thoughtful. "I don't mind at all, babe.It's not a bother at all."

Beatrice smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Roos. I knew you'd be okay with it. Leo and Cynthia will really appreciate it."

Rooster shifted his gaze back to Nicole, who was now reaching out for one of the dog's wagging tails with glee. "It'll be fun having them over. And Nicole will have a blast with her cousins."

Beatrice couldn't agree more. "Absolutely. I’ll let Leo know once I get home.”

Rooster's phone buzzed, breaking their conversation momentarily. He checked the message and chuckled. "Looks like I've got to head back to work, babe." he mutters “More like,Mav is asking me if I got my phone back.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll have to go back.” he kisses Nicole before handing her over to Beatrice, their daughter whined a bit but hugged her mother’s neck, “Oh, don’t cry baby girl. Please don’t cry,” he kissed her tiny fist, “Dada will be back home soon,okay?”

Beatrice held Nicole close, soothing her with gentle whispers and soft kisses on her tiny hands. "Your daddy will be back before you know it, sweetie," Beatrice cooed, rocking Nicole gently in her arms. "He loves you so much."

Rooster leaned in to plant a loving kiss on Nicole's forehead. "Daddy will miss you too, baby girl. But I promise I'll be home soon." he kisses her one more time, then turned to Beatrice, “You’ll get home safe,right?”

“Always.”

His smile widens, leaning down to kiss the top of her head, then her nose, “Good.” one last kiss to her lips, “Text me as soon as you get back home.”

“I will.”

With one last lingering look at his daughter and wife, Rooster reluctantly left the entrance and headed back into the base. Beatrice gave him one final wave when he turned to look at them,one that he reciprocated, then watched as he disappeared from her view.

She sighed softly, “Well,”she mutters, “We better go home and…prepare for your cousins’ visit.”

[zeus-favorite-child]

Sokkla 16.

this is kinda silly 🤣 and forgive me in advance for typos because I will not proof read it.

"Fuck"

Her sharp voice echoed through the apartment as she stared at the two lines that seems to be mocking her fate. Closing her eyes while she aggressively tapping the device in her hand as if it would erase the lines. Sigh. Her head is aching and she's half wishing right now this is all just a dream.

Opening her eyes, Azula can still clearly see it there. The two lines, which could only mean one thing. POSITIVE. She feels numb, more so worried about how will her 'friend' react to the news. Adding to her stress are the possible rumors the Republic City press will come up once they know. They really do fucked up big time.

It just happened one time and now they have to suffer the consequences. She begrudgingly blame herself for getting too drunk that night. She stand up walking to the nearest trash bin and throw the pregnancy test. A thousand possibilities came to her mind but she knows the best way out here, she will file a resignation to the Council then fly back to Fire Nation.

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

It was easier said than done, because by the time she getting ready and packing up after her brother agreed on her request of coming home, the Southern Water trive representative came barging in her apartment unannounced.

"What exactly do you think you're doing here?" she tried to sound spiteful but shock is definitely evident on her features.

"Tell me why are you resigning? Don't give me the 'i will be much needed in the Fire Nation than Republic City' bullshits again cause we already settled the one." Sokka's demanding voice filled the room.

"What if that's the only real reason I could give you?" she challenged him

"But you're much needed here, the City's council needs you….. I need you," he pretty much whispered the last three words but it's loud enough for her heartrate to spiked.

'Stupid hormones' she thought to herself. She don't really know how to react to the information so she just avert her gaze and start packing again.

"Is this about what happened?"

Silence.

"It's about that night right?"

More silence.

"If this is about that promise it's not going to happen again. I'm gonna professional as I can be. I won't bother you anymore, just please stay. I will do any-"

"ENOUGH!" his ramblings were cut by her shout. "It's never about that….. it's something different" she looks down to her hand that she didn't realize she's fidgeting.

"Then, what's your deal?"

"I did a pregnancy test last month, and let's just say I passed it with flying colors" she replied sighing.

"You're… you're pregnant?" she just nodded. Refusing to meet his eyes but what she didn't expect is him running to embrace her.

"I'm gonna be a dad?" Sokka asked more to get himself rather than her. She didn't expect this reaction from him it's confusing.

"How sure are you that you're the father?" she asked trying to test him.

"Well, you're too busy and focus to your paperworks so I don't think you have a time to get laid after that night" he declared too proudly.

"Touché" she wanted to wiped that smug grin to his face. They're still locked up in an embrace. She rested her head on his shoulder. "So, you're not nervous about this? You're not mad at me?"

"What? No! I'm not mad at you, I'm actually more mad at myself" he whispered. She raised her head so she'll see his face. "I love you, Azula. I didn't know why it had taken me a drunken night to admit it to myself and a thought of never seeing you again to admit it out loud"

"You're an idiot," she replied smiling before capturing his lips to hers.

"So does this means you'll stay here?" Sokka ask as they pull away.

"No, this means we're going to a Fire Nation vacation, dumdum" she replied before he claimed her lips once again.

[steak-n-popotoes]

FFxivWrite '23 - 23

Stress and anxiety charged a constant electric surge through Caranar's body.

Never had he foreseen anything like this.

Still he felt that familiar instinct to look over his shoulder while he still could - to spot the thief in the night, the knife in the back, the blood in the wine, the pitfall, the curveball, the trick, the hitch, the catch.

When you've spent so long being toyed with by fate, the one outcome you can never have faith in is a happy ending.

Really.

Liberating two nations, no strings attached? Burying that bastard Zenos, completely unscathed?

And now this? Things were going too well. He was too happy. Overindulgent in his joy; there had to be a reckoning.

"You have got to relax," L'kozu scolded, "you've already sweat through the undershirt and if it reaches the jacket it will show through."

Caranar shuffled under the formal attire. He knew it was important to Eryna, and he had to admit he was feeling swept up in the ceremony of it all, but that didn't mean he liked wearing the suit any more than he would have were it for some stuffy political banquet.

L'kozu held their stern silence while they inspected the vest for any loose threads or other imperfections. They found none, of course. "If Beef can deal with it, you can."

"Are you kidding? Beef loves playing dress-up." The flower boy had been twirling in his skirts from the moment Kozu had shown him how to get them on. "The suit's nothing. Well, it's great, I mean. It looks great-"

"Then what's actually bothering you?" Kozu asked. They stopped fussing over Caranar and fixed their eyes on his.

Sweat continued to bead along Caranar's brow under the shadow of his tamed hair. Of course they could tell.

Caranar struggled to coax words from his lips.

"It's just... I feel like I can't-"

A rush from within raced through his mind, forcing him from it. Oh gods. This was it.

"Caranar? You can't what? What's wrong?" The sensation of L'kozu taking his hand and bracing his shoulder reached Caranar from across the divide.

His stress turned to panic as that damned pain spiked into his skull again. He knew it couldn't last. He cursed all the gods he knew as he was stricken by their blessing.

A vision of the future danced before his senses.

Sweat rolled down his brow as he reentered the room. L'kozu had given him the boot, knowing he wouldn't be able to contain his anxiety.

They slipped past, returning to the bedside, and spoke to its occupant in a low, soothing tone.

Though he was only mere steps away, Caranar couldn't hear what they said. He had miles to cross before he was there himself.

"Caranar?" came Eryna's voice, exhausted and weak.

Suddenly he was standing alongside the curtain.

"I let him know." L'kozu said. "He's right here, Eryna."

Eryna reached a hand out for Caranar's, which he took gently in his own. His eyes were locked on the bundle in L'kozu's arms.

Before he could protest or shy away, L'kozu responded by holding the little thing out for Caranar to take. He cradled it - cradled her - in his other arm, close to his heart. Dark hair was curled around long ears atop her head, and a few soft, dark scales mottled her arms, legs and face.

"So much of the world to see, yet they're both already asleep." L'kozu said. "Asleep, but in perfect health." they added. "I suspect their first bath was more excitement than they were prepared for."

L'kozu's words reached Caranar from within his daze. "Both?"

He tore himself away from the newborn he held to look up at L'kozu, who then nodded to Eryna.

Cradled against her was another sleeping baby, a mirror image of the first.

Caranar felt a swell within his breast; warmth spreading to every edge of his being.

"Twins. A boy and a girl." said Eryna, breathless. "Like Alphinaud and Alisaie."

"Delivered without a hitch. You've earned some rest yourself, Eryna."

Caranar had no words. He still couldn't believe it had come true.

There was wet upon Caranar's cheeks as he returned to the present.

He had been moved to a chair with his collar and neckerchief undone as L'kozu held a cold compress to his head. His best man looked him over with unguarded concern.

"Are you alright? Was it the Echo?"

Caranar struggled to compose himself, and ultimately failed. Tears fell unhindered onto white silk. "It-it was."

"What did you see that was so sad?"

Sad? Caranar thought, was he sad? Caranar searched the vision for some angle, some hidden tragedy. Healthy, Kozu had said. Without a hitch. No matter how he tried, he could find none. Yet each drop fell after the other.

"No... it was nothing." He sniffed loudly. That vision, the sensation of holding his own child he still felt in his arms and within his breast, he clung to as it burned white-hot amidst all of the other dark and miserable glimpses of the future he had endured over the course of his life. It was for him, and him alone. It burned bright enough to chase the shadows away.

"It's alright." Caranar said. "I'm alright."

~~~~~

Though many would have given anything for the right to claim they were present when the Warriors of Light were wed (a right which was oft exercised by the youngest son of House Fortemps), L'kozu and Tataru had flexed quite a lot of power in ensuring the ceremony was attended by close friends and family only.

On one side were seated Eryna's relatives, while the other was filled out by the Scions and their associates. Beef was sitting with Popola and Renaud whenever he wasn't gleefully scattering flower petals; Popola bouncing in her seat with excitement while Renaud slumped in his chair looking annoyed that her attention was somewhere else. Thancred was inconspicuously holding his head, still reeling from the previous night's festivities. Alphinaud was busy assisting L'kozu with directing while Alisaie, Y'mhitra, and maid of honor Y'shtola were off with Eryna and the rest of her bridesmaids. Representing the Steppe was Cirina of the Mol, who looked a mite overwhelmed as she placed an ornate stringed instrument at a table loaded down with gifts for the bride and groom. Those with sharp eyes even insist that the Azure Dragoon himself was spotted lingering against a wall at the back of the venue.

Caranar's tears threatened to spill over once more throughout the ceremony, pausing only briefly to laugh when he saw Sidurgu stuffed into a suit himself, sitting with his arms crossed while a halo of moogles harassed him overhead. Rielle carried herself with smug poise as the ring bearer, no doubt aware of Sid's plight.

The brief reprieve came to an end when Eryna approached the altar escorted by her father, and Caranar's emotions struck again with strength tenfold.

Eryna, on the other hand, had spent the day certain she would not cry and ruin the effort her bridesmaids had poured into her appearance, but found that resolve sorely tested when she beheld her groom wearing the tear-stained tuxedo L'kozu had drafted and tailored for him. His usual charming, stoic self she had been prepared for, but this... smiling through his outpouring of love, of feeling. It was so unlike him. Vulnerable and free.

They shared the same wishes for their life together as they shared a kiss.

[aspenforest732]

Mortem ad Wrens Ch 4: Mad Banquet

Summary:

tw: underground crime syndicate, drug running, Ed behaviors Akira: friendship? Shinso: NO FRIENDS! ONLY STUDY! Akira: …work connections? Shinso: …fine

Notes:

‘text’ is JSL Text is thoughts

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The next couple days were blessedly incident-free, although Bakugo kept trying to fight Midoriya for some reason. Akira was starting to see what caused the small starburst scars along the latter’s arms and back. Kaminari profusely apologized for the battle trial, but Akira just shrugged them off, the cream seemingly worked better on fresh burns and scars than old ones. Dark Shadow still picked up on their discomfort around Kaminari and gave the kid warning glares when he got too close.

The press at the front gates on Wednesday led Akira to just warp inside, shuddering at the cameras that could have caught their image. Media attention was the last thing they needed, and of course it was about All Might. At least Aoyama seemed to enjoy the attention.

‘Blank!’ Akira signed from behind him in the lunch line. ‘Want to eat outside with us?’ they gestured to Tokoyami and Koda ahead of them.

Shinso’s eyes narrowed, searching Akira’s face. ‘Why?’

Akira cocked their head, confused. ‘You know JSL. Animal Whisper and I know JSL. We’re tutoring Raven and Dark Shadow, and you seem like you could use a… connection?’

‘I’m not here to make friends!’

‘Like I said, connection. If you don’t like us, you can leave at any time. No hard feelings.’ After a moment, Akira continued. ‘I know I’m going to be an underground hero, and Raven is considering it as well. Your quirk would be perfect for it, so if nothing else, we’ll know whether we want to work together in the future.’

Shinso stared at them for a long moment, grabbing their tray before nodding sharply. Akira grinned and gave a thumbs up to Koda and Tokoyami. Lunch Rush looked like he was going to apologize for the other day, but Akira rapidly shook their head, glancing at Shinso before taking their servings.

Koda tapped on Shinso’s shoulder as they walked to their tree, smiling apologetically at the boy’s flinch. ‘I usually interpret for Reaper. If you’re more comfortable signing than talking, I can interpret for you, too.’

After a moment, Shinso muttered, “I’m fine.”

‘Oh, I was meaning to ask you,’ Akira signed as they lowered themself with their cane, turning slightly to give Shinso a little privacy. ‘Are you safe? At home, I mean? I’ve seen scars like the ones you’re concealing before.’

Shinso immediately reached up to where the scars were just slightly indented in his skin, the discoloration mostly covered by basic concealer. They frowned for a moment before his expression softened. ‘I wasn’t, but I think I am now. They haven’t done anything like this.’

Seeing the sliver of uncertainty in his expression and the cautious yet hanging in the air, Akira tried to give a reassuring smile. ‘If they pull anything like that, and I mean anything, tell me. I’ve helped kids out of those situations before, and I’ll do it again in a heartbeat.’

Shinso chuffed and nodded, turning back to the other two. “Mori said you’re teaching Tokoyami JSL.”

Koda smiled and started explaining what they’d covered as Akira scarfed down most of their food and packed a quarter of it for dinner. Akira occasionally corrected Tokoyami’s gestures but mostly kept to themself, double-checking their math for what they needed this month.

Akira jumped to their feet and steadied themself on the tree as a loud alarm blared across campus, head swiveling to search for the cause. ‘I’m warping to the top to see if I can spot anything. If a teacher is near, ask them what’s going on.’

The others nodded, and Akira tossed up a tuft of grass as they warped, clone immediately dispelling. From the roof of the cafeteria, they could see the hoard of paparazzi pressing against… Where the hell are the gates? Alarm spiked through Akira as they noticed the protective barrier over the gates was reduced to a small pile of rubble. After a moment, they saw two teachers – Aizawa and Yamada from their attire – fast walking towards the gates.

After seeing no other disturbances from their vantage point, Akira noticed the Big Three walking up to their group, Nejire talking animatedly as they grew uncomfortable. Akira warped right between Nejire and Shinso, a handful of gravel dispelling their clone as they landed. They swayed dangerously for a moment before catching themselves on their proffered cane.

‘What do you know about the situation? And was the alarm for the press and barrier destruction or something else?’ they rapidly signed to the trio, tapping their cane for emphasis. Nejire took a step back, surprise coloring her face as Amajiki and Togata startled into loose stances before dropping them.

“That was the intruder alarm, yes. We haven’t heard exactly what happened, but that would definitely trigger it. We heard from your classmates that you four usually eat outside so came to make sure you were alright,” Togata said and introduced the trio.

“Were you invisible? Ooh! Are you the new warp student? How far can you go? I love your hair. How do you get it so sleek? How do you know JSL?”

Akira took a step back, wobbling slightly as their cane hit a dip as their eyes narrowed at the girl. ‘Kami, you talk more than Broccoli. We need to get back to class since the alarm should stop soon.’

Amajiki stifled a snort and Togata laughed, a little confused. “Broccoli? Ah, is that your green-haired classmate? I hope he’s doing well after the entrance exam. I’ve never seen Aizawa so exasperated over a student that quickly.”

Akira nodded and gestured for the others to start heading to the lunchroom. ‘We really should be going now, thank you for the concern.’ Akira kept themself between their group and Nejire, pointedly ignoring her questions as they walked. After a moment, the questions tapered off as a much softer voice asked her to stop bothering them.

The hallway to classes was starting to decongest as an announcement was made, and Akira was bewildered to see Ida hovering over the doorway looking a little nauseous before he suddenly dropped. Uraraka must’ve sent him up where he could see. This must’ve been a nightmare when the alarm went off.

Heroics was mostly spent going over drills and different codes for the school. Akira met their interpreter for the class, a woman named Jo Anii with a Thinker quirk that let her understand any spoken or signed language. Akira let a small smile settle on their face as they noticed one of Ectoplasm’s clones off to the side whose sole attention was on All Might.

That night, it seemed every runner, dealer, and muscle were at the bar. Mortis wove through the crowd but was stopped at the door to the back by Au, Boss' main guard with a basic strength enhancement quirk.

“Not tonight, kid. Boss wants to talk to everyone tonight before handing out assignments,” she scowled.

Shrugging, Mortis melded back into the crowd. Ayaka and Azumi made a pass at pickpocketing, earning them each a rap on the knuckles and a smirk. ‘Distractions only work if the other one is quiet enough. Remember to slide your feet,’ Mortis signed. The siblings groaned and slunk back into the crowd, barely acknowledging the critique.

After a few more minutes, Boss finally emerged, Au falling in step behind her. “Good to see everyone gathered again. Unfortunately, this time isn’t for celebration but a warning. A new group of villains is recruiting for a large operation on Friday, and I don’t want any of you to get involved. They don’t care about age, and intel wouldn’t put it past them to grab people if they need more bodies. Stick with your partner, and if you don’t have a roommate, we’re opening the back for the next two nights. If you sign up, you’re on your own and outside my protection.” Boss scanned the room, catching Mortis’ eye briefly. “If you haven’t been assigned a partner yet, come see me. The rest of you, stay safe and stay vigilant.”

Mortis waited for the newer, unpaired members to finish with Boss before approaching. ‘I’m not staying if that’s what you’re wondering.’

“Mortis, I understand your situation is complicated, but you’re not going to be kidnapped under my watch,” Boss sighed.

Mortis huffed and tapped their cane for emphasis. ‘I can handle myself! I’ve been eating enough to make an escape if I need to, and my partner is also living on their own. I’m 15, not 10.’

“Your partner is in his thirties and can pay for their own place. You are still physically a child, and even if you’re willing to take the risk, I won’t.”

Mortis glared up at the imposing woman, clenching their fists to stop the shaking. A night at base was always more than just a night, and they couldn’t risk being seen or heard more than necessary.

After a long moment, a cough echoed from behind them. Mortis shied to the side, tensing as they saw Dabi approach. He must’ve been the last one needed before the announcement. “If you need a place to stay, I have a flat nearby. You’d be on the couch, and the kitchen is on its last legs.”

Au interpreted Mortis’s dismissive signs. ‘One run does not constitute trust, Wildfire. Like I told Boss, I’ll be fine.’ They turned to Boss. ‘Now, any runs for tonight or should I go?’

Two runs later, Akira’s legs burned as they leaned more heavily on their retrieved cane. They switched gears to buy the protein drinks and powdered milk from the corner store Eraser Head sometimes grabbed iced coffee from on his way to patrol. Lucking out, they waved at the tired hero as they entered behind him.

An eyebrow quirked as he said, “What are you doing out so late? It’s a school night.”

Akira checked their old watch with a frown, ‘It’s only 2300. I needed to pick up a couple things before finishing the English paper.’

“That’s not due for another week. You should sleep more,” Eraser Head sighed at Akira’s small smirk and checked his phone. “I’ll walk you back.”

Akira shook their head, taking a half step back. ‘No really, that’s fine. You’ll be late for patrol if you do that.’ Akira quickly grabbed their supplies and flashed the sign for distraction to the cashier.

“It’s not a problem, kid,” Eraser Head sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just let me-”

“Um, I’m sorry, sir, but your card was declined,” the cashier interrupted. Grateful, Akira made a mental note to tip em next time. Cho had a minor electrical interference quirk that only worked on small devices and chips, but ey used it to help anyone ey recognized who wasn’t actively harming the community.

Taking a risk on the rooftops, Akira warped twice, dispelling both clones, to put some distance between them and Eraser Head. Eventually, they circled back around to their warehouse, checking the minor inconveniences of traps they’d set with more precision than usual. Most of the time, smaller critters and pests left the traps as they were or didn’t bother resetting them. The plank of wood a few inches to the right of where they’d placed it would normally make Akira question their memory, but that night, they moved on to their backup warehouse. Hopefully, whatever the new group was planning wouldn’t be in the warehouse district.

Notes:

Dadzawa: why are you up past your bedtime? Akira: What bedtime? Dadzawa: … Akira: … Oh that bedtime! I gotta go, byeee

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[your-sweet-cookies]

Not moving an inch from her spot and seeming rather unphased and unimpressed by what she thought must've been the man's poorly executed attempt at flirting with her, Kukki shrugged her shoulders and took another sip from her bland orange juice. "Fascinating... You must be really acquainted with this place then. Don't you just get bored of remixing the same songs over and over again?" Her knowledge on the topic was sparse, considering that she wasn't much into dance music, so all she though about dj-ing was that a guy plays the same popular songs over and over again, changing the tuning and adding some extra sounds on the side. His comment made her roll her eyes, seemingly starting to get annoyed by this guy and his blunt mannerisms she pretty much considered to be savagely. To say the least, Kukki was never a woman to be impressed by a though man with a tough and bad boyish behavior. Frankly, she was hardly impressed by anything as a matter of fact.

"Yes, orange juice. Not all of us are fans of losing their minds over some stupid drink and doing shit they might regret afterwards." She kept it simple, concluding that telling a complete stranger about her poor alcohol tolerance might have not been a wise idea. "That's the point, I am not here to 'have fun' or 'having fun' as a whole. This isn't my cup of tea and I'd much rather be home right now, but it so happens that my dumb friends wanted to go clubbing and they needed someone to keep an eye out for them, you know? We girls must stick together and look after one another and with the whole spike in drugging and rape cases occurring in night clubs in the recent years, only an idiot would go by herself in a place like this." She was probably making a reference to that really recent case with the human trafficking ring masked as a fancy nightclub from Korea. The silver haired then shrugged her shoulders and returned her gaze to the crowds of people dancing and having the time of their lives.

She had thought that that will be that, but when Fuji mentioned that he liked looking at people to analyze and observe them, Kukki's ears seemed to perk up. Something so insignificant and apparently meaningless, yet the only thing that they probably had in common at this given moment and the only saving grace for their conversation. "Then I guess we have something in common. I may not like frequenting this kind of places, but observing the behavioral patterns and displays of human nature that occur in such environments can be interesting at times." Big words... This probably served as a good indication that this girl wasn't exactly like the typical female customer coming to the club. She was more... refined, so to speak. "When they are drunk and in a public, crowded place like this, people will usually shed their inhibitions and show their true natures, their real selves so to speak, so it's fun playing the guessing game of what the less obvious ones are actually like. For example, that dude there..." She pointed at a middle age looking guy, dressed in a casual office wear, swaying to the rhythm of the music close to a group of women much younger than him. "When he first came into the club, he was very much reserved and somewhat cautious, but after a few beers, he started inching closer and closer to the woman in the skimpy red dress, eyeing her up. I bet that he's probably the director of some respectable company, who is secretly a pervert who likes hitting on women half his age." Kukki rolls her eyes and chuckles.

"My type of great night would be one I spend back at home, bundled up into my fluffy blanket, with my cat next to me and a warm cup of tea in my hands as I watch my favorite show or read a good book." She turns back to looking at Fuji. "I'm sure nothing that you would label as 'fun' anyways."

[@anemia-rp]

'The best nights are the ones you never plan.' (from Fuji)

more tumblr quote prompts pt. 2

The party life was never Kukki's cup of tea so to speak, she was more of a house body, who enjoys spending time by herself in the company of her cat and a good book instead of partying and drinking away god knows where, in a loud and noisy club. And neither was she a fan of socializing, being an introvert by nature who got easily drained by social interactions, yet here she was, in a night club on a late Saturday evening, having been dragged along by a friend to act as their chaperon. Since Kukki never drank and she was a very serious person, her friends often used her to keep an eye out for them in case there where creeps lurking around or they got too drunk.

"Huh?" The silver haired raised her eyes to meet those of the person, whom the voice from earlier belonged to. 'The best night are the ones you never plan'... The words echoed in her mind, making her snort. "Maybe, but so far this is far from what I would normally call 'a great night'. This place is soo packed and loud I feel I could end up losing myself in this sea of people if I get up from here." Kukki replied and took a sip from her nonalcoholic orange juice. She never drank alcohol, given that her tolerance was very low and she could easily get drunk.

Eyeing the man sat next to her, a tall, intimidating looking guy with long hair and tattoos, Kukki took some quick mental notes on him, making an analysis of what she thought his personality might've been like. So far, he didn't struck her as dangerous or sleazy, so she could tolerate him. "What about you? Having a good night so far?"

[grav3yardbb92]

RUMOR HAS IT

Angel series imagine

Angel x Fem! Witch! reader. Spike x Fem! Witch! reader

T.W.: language, mention of demons and vampires (obviously)

********

I exit the elevator, entering the main floor of Wolfram and Hart. I exhale, second guessing the discission I made this morning, but I approach the person I consider my closest friend and proceed to tell her anyway.

" Hey Harm, can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course, you can, sweetie" the blonde responds, adding an encouraging smile. Here it goes.

" I, um, I think I'm in love with...

" a vampire " she finishes for me

" What? How do you..."

"Everyone knows y/n, well everyone except said vampire."

"You should tell him" She continues. Earning a gasp from me.

"Are you nuts? I can't tell him, ever." I argue.

"Well, why not, waiting for him to notice obviously isn't working."

"Harm, look at me, I'm just a witch, that's a big step down from slayer, I know how he feels about me, we are barely friends."

"You are a very powerful witch, and Buffy was forever ago, he's so over it." She pauses, thinking as deep as a she can before she continues." Okay, just do one thing for me, say it out loud" I look at her confused.

"You heard me" she pushes, and I know she won't shut up about this, and if I don't do this, she might just tell him herself.

I take another deep breath before giving her what she wants.

" I'm in love with..." My confession is interrupted by the elevator door opening, to reveal Angel and Spike caught in yet another of their famous arguments. I watch them both, until Harmony clears her throat

" you're in love with..." She repeats my statement, prompting me to continue. She doesn't have to smirk for me to know what she is doing. But I've got a few tricks.

" With an undead creature with a soul." I finish, proud of myself for keeping it cryptic. " Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a locator spell to work, that baby eating demon won't kill itself."

" that's not what I wanted to hear, y/n" she shouts at me as I stalk down the hall toward my office, unaware that my cryptic confession caused the vampires to stop their argument.

" did she just say what I think she said?"

"Sorry boss, but I can't tell you that, I wouldn't look good as a frog" I laugh at her statement, before closing my door.

**Time skip**

After days and nights of research, we did finally find and kill that demon. And now we are all exhausted and ready to head home, too bad we now have to file paperwork about the case. why, I have no clue, does someone actually want to read about this stuff, future watchers, maybe. But at least it will distract me from thinking about my other situation.

It just so happens that I end up in the elevator with spike, when suddenly, it jerks to a stop and the lights flicker off. As I go to ask what happened, the lights come back on, but the car doesn't move.

" Relax, love, I stopped it, wanted to talk to you"

" Well, actually, I wanted to talk to you too, just not in the elevator"

" It’s the only spot in this bloody place with privacy” He explains, before continuing. “You seemed a little distracted, is it that rumor, floating about?"

Well, yeah, I..." 

" You should tell him"

" Wait, who?"

"Angel, for someone who has been around awhile, he's bloody oblivious" he laughs at his diss toward Angel

" It must be a vampire thing then" I mutter, looking anywhere but his face.

" what's that supposed to mean"

When I don't answer, he grabs my shoulder, turning me to face him.

" I... I don't love angel, not like that."

" I heard you with Harmony, " undead creature with a s-" he cuts himself off, as his brain Catches up to his mouth "oh. Oh! You meant..." I nod and smile nervously, waiting for his response. He only smirks at me.

" Well, go on, tell me how I'm just a stupid little witch and you could never...oh" his lips are on mine. They are softer than I expected, and he taste like cigarettes and copper, that was expected. Somehow during our kiss, the elevator began moving again, and before we knew it, the doors opened.

I didn't want to pull away, but some of us still need to breath, when I did, he smiled at me and grabbed my hand.

"Well, there you two are...." Harmony cuts off mid-sentence and her lips stretch into a knowing smirk.

"What?" Spike, growled, pushing past her, rushing to get to my office.

As we reach my door, I hear her yell after us.

" it's about time"

[theworldofotps]

Sharing Secrets

(Are These Cute Drabble Part Two)

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader Word Count: 1,271 Description: Rhea finally shares her secret with you.

Part One

Thank you so much to @new-zealand-chic for reading over a majority of this I appreciate it. Thank you @omg-im-such-a-masochist for helping me keep from fucking it up with stuff going too fast. That’s why yall didn’t get smut I decided to do that in the final part 3😂🤣

_________ Tag List

@omg-im-such-a-masochist @damnnhausen @new-zealand-chic @writtingrose @sjwrites22 @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex @biforrollynch @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29 @itsicantbelievethis666 @lilred91 @xbreezymeadowsx @rebellious-desires @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @letsgivethisonemoreshot @mcreignsera @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart @serpantscorpio8497 @thatpanpal @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 @cuzimacomedian @auburnwrites @aews-four-pillars @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234 @melblacc @alliwant456 @elevennbloom

If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. __________

“I’m telling you Damian I didn’t think I was going to make it. I had to make up an excuse on why I couldn’t hang out with her until after dinner. And then when I went to sleep I kept seeing them in my dreams.”

Rhea drops her head on the table causing Damian to wince.

“Okay first off, don’t do that you’re going to get a headache or damage your brain more so then it already is.”

“Piss off!”

She laughs, turning her head to look at him and give him the finger.

“Asshole.”

Chuckling Damian shrugs his shoulders.

“Look, you’ve been crushing on her for nearly a year and a half. I think it’s time you just come right out and tell her. If it’s getting to the point you can’t escape her even in your dreams which will start keeping you up at night. Then you need to tell her, knowing is better then wondering and stressing yourself out. Besides it’s y/n she’s not going to kick you out of her life if she doesn’t feel the same.”

“I suppose you’re probably right, I should just come right out and tell her. Maybe we’ll just have only a small awkward time period. Thank D I really appreciate all the help and advice you’ve given me with this.”

“You’re welcome. I'm happy to help you out anyway I can. You’re familia and as such you get all the big brother privileges.”

Giving him a hug Rhea finishes her lunch and promises to text him later with details. Heading back towards her room Rhea pulls out her phone.

Goth Wife💋🖤: Hey I need to talk to you about something? Are you free to meet? It’s kinda personal so maybe my or your room would work best

Hesitating for a few moments Rhea sighs she needed to do this but the fear it could all end horribly wouldn’t leave her mind. Taking a deep breath she pressed send then shoves her phone into her pocket. Best to just leave it out of sight for now.

Taking the elevator to her hotel room Rhea swipes her key and closes the door behind her. She needed something to keep her mind busy while she waited.

Y/n/n⚰️🖤: Yeah uh give me ten minutes and I’ll just come to yours

Goth Wife💋🖤: Okay thanks see you soon

“Okay okay so just gotta spit it out when she gets here.”

Rhea mumbles to herself as she rubs her palms on her pants. She was trying not to freak out, the unknown of what could happen was really making her anxious.

“It’s just y/n one of your best friends you can tell her anything.”

Looking in the mirror to give herself a pep talk. When she hears a knock the fear spikes up as she turns to the door. She was half tempted to just pretend she wasn’t here and forget about everything.

“Rhea? Come on open up, it's cold out in the hallway.”

“Be right there!”

Taking a deep breath she once more wipes off her pants then opens the door letting you in.

“Hey thanks for coming, go ahead and have a seat wherever.”

Hanging the do not disturb sign cause the last thing they needed was a coworker knocking and stealing Rhea’s nerve to do this.

Turning to see you sat on a chair Rhea tried to swallow around the sudden lump in her throat.

“What did you need to talk about? Is everything okay, did I do something?”

“No no you didn’t do anything I just wanted to try and tell you something. I’ve been meaning to do this for a while and every time I get close I lose my nerve.”

Sitting on her bed facing you Rhea opens her mouth to speak.

“I uh.”

‘Come on Ripley just say it for crying out loud!’

“I like you.”

‘Way to sound like a fucking middle schooler.’

“Yeah I like you too, I already knew that.”

You laugh softly and watch her noticing how her cheeks were slowly turning a pink.

“No I mean I have feelings for you like I am crushing on you. Not just I like you as a friend. I know this is probably shocking but figured it was time you knew. Now I don’t expect anything okay? Just making that clear so you don’t feel pressured. But you deserve to know and.”

“I like you too Rhea, the same way you feel about me.”

Rhea stops and looks at you tilting her head to the side in surprise.

“Wait you do?”

“Of course I do. How much more transparent do I need to be? I’ve been dropping hints for a while now.”

You say with a smile shaking your head a soft laugh leaving you.

“Rhea I literally sent you a underwear pic wearing YOUR merch with my boobs almost visible. If that isn’t clear enough that I have feelings for you then I don’t know what else I have to do. Because sending photos like that is not something that happens with my other friends.”

“I’m sorry I thought you were just being cheeky, I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t there’s no need to feel stupid, but I’m glad you’ve told me.”

Standing you walk over and gently take her hands in yours.

“This is a conversation I’ve wanted to have with you for a long time. I just wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same.”

Rhea confesses and gently kisses the back of your hands. Pulling you to sit beside her Rhea sighs.

“So where do we go from here?”

Thinking for a moment you look back at her.

“Well, I think we should do whatever feels best for us. If you want to make it official, or if you want to go on dates first it’s whatever we want. Every relationship is different.”

“I want everything that goes with being yours, I want us to be girlfriends but I also want us to be able to enjoy some privacy before we tell everyone. If that’s okay with you, I mean maybe we can tell Damian.”

You say looking at her, your heart was pounding as you waited to hear her thoughts.

“Will you be my girlfriend y/n?”

Rhea smiles watching your face light up as you quickly nod your head.

“I’d love to.”

Pulling you into a hug Rhea feels a sense of peace, the secret that she’d been keeping for so long was finally out.

“Can I ask you something now that you’ve gotten that situated?”

You whisper, pulling back to look at her, a small smile on your face as she agrees.

“What was your reaction to the picture I sent you?”

“I was pleasantly surprised. That's why I couldn’t meet you until after dinner because I was trying to collect myself. But that’s all that kept popping into my head for the rest of the night.”

Rhea confesses as she looks at her hands.

“And that’s why you cut our hangout early?”

“Yep, I just couldn’t look at you and stop thinking about that picture.”

Normally you weren’t so straightforward but with Rhea you felt like you could say anything and seeing the badass Rhea Ripley so shy and awkward was cute.

“Well as much as I would like to let you have a repeat of that picture but in person, I think we should go out for dinner or something first.”

Looking up at you surprised, Rhea chuckles and stands up looking at you with a smirk.

“Lets go gorgeous lets see where the night takes us.”

[luimagines]

Can I have something with wind? Like maybe the reader collected shells for Wind. Or Wind takes the reader sailing. Or honestly anything with Wind- If not, that's okay!

Oh this is precious. Wind doesn't get enough love. Coming right up Anon!

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

“Wind!~” You call out to the boy. He looks up and in your direction with his mouth full of food still.

You can’t keep the grin off of your face even if you tried. You hold both of your hands behind your back and saunter up to him. “I have something for you.”

Wind gets excited. He tries to speak but there’s too much food in his mouth. enough so that his gasp sends him into a coughing fit.

You snort and reach out, balancing your present behind your back and your now free hand rubs circles between his shoulder blades. “Slow down buddy. Don’t choke. It’s not going anywhere.”

Wind swallows roughly. It’s enough to make you wince. You doubt that went down easy. 

“I did it!” Wind cries, voice rough from the treatment. “What is it?”

“My goodness.” You shakes your head. “Eager aren’t we?”

“What is it?” Wind bounces in his spot and turns to you. 

You grin and pull out the bag from behind you. “I’ve been collecting these from my home but I’ve expanded it to the places we’ve been too. I think I’ve got some from everybody’s Hyrule.”

You gently place it on your lap and there a familiar callused chime that Wind himself is familiar with. You can see his interest peak and it brings an exited look to his face. It’s a minor relief. You had wondered if it would be a bit too on the nose.

Pulling on the draw string of the bag, you pull out one, two, three, four sea shells and let Wind look at them. Some have spikes. Some are curled. Others have strange striped or spotted patterns. And interestingly enough there’s a bright colored line somewhere on each of the shells. Something it’s inside or under but it’s there.

“That’s to show where it’s from.” You explain when Wind tries to scratch the paint off. “Each color you’d find represents each of us.... There should be a little journal here in the bag somewhere...”

You reach in and start poking around. You find it.

You open it and show a blue stripe. There’s a drawing of Wild next to it and Wind looks at the shell that shares the same color coding. You grin once more and let him take the small booklet. “I’m no artist... But I think it gets the job done.”

“You collected all of these?” Wind says quietly, looking at each one as if it was a gem.

“I did.”

“And you’re giving it to me?”

“I think you’re the only one here that would appreciate it.” You say nonchalantly. You’re trying to not be obvious that you’re watching his every reaction. He’s gone quiet and expressionless. You’ve never seen the boy act like this before. Needless to say, it makes you a tad bit nervous. There’s no telling if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Gingerly, he closes the book. He takes the bag and opens it up to look further into it. You bite your lip ad wait, letting him do as he pleases. He’s gentle when he places the booklet back into the bag and he’s cautious when returning the other shells within it as well.

He close it with care and then he looks at you with dewy eyes.

Panic shoots through your system as you sit up straighter. “Hey-”

He cuts you off. Wind borderline leaps from his seat and wraps his arms around your neck, burring his face into you. You can hear him sniffle and hold onto you tighter. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, buddy.” You hug him back. Instinctually your hands come up to his hair. you card your fingers through it until he can calm himself down.

“The last time I was away from home-” He says, rubbing his eyes with his hands and smearing the snail trail from his nose onto his sleeve. “I wanted to get something from everyone but I wasn’t able to. And now there’s more of us here. I didn’t even know where to start.”

He laughs a bit bitterly and hugs to cloth bag to his chest. “And you just give this me?”

“Of course.” You say... not really understanding it but you at least get the idea that he’s thankful. “We’re friends. Friends give each other things.”

That might have been the right thing to say. Wind looks up at you and sniffles again. He smiles back. It’s the softest and most subdued smile you’ve ever seen on anybody. He sit up again and laughs somewhat. “You don’t know what this means, do you?”

“I simply gave you a gift.” You tilt your head. 

“I love it.” He says.

“Good.” You laugh and move to stand. “I was worried it would have gone into the wrong hands. But I know you’ll take good care of them now.”

“I will. I promise.” He grin and suddenly he’s back to his regular self. He goes back to looking into the bag and you take that as your cue to leave.

That went pretty well, if you say so yourself.