#it like took me a second to collect myself because i had so much trouble falling asleep

[thatlesbiancrow]

bleh woke up from a nightmare.

it was like the first time i had a nightmare that takes place in the place i currently live which is neat

[askinkiskarma]

ok so what about like an enemies with benefits type of thing with neteyam and they’re so mean to eachother but in the height of it all he’s holding her close and praising her. idk this probably don’t make sense

ok this took me a while, but I enjoyed doing this. hope you enjoy, too, anonnie x

Thoroughly recommend you play this for the full effect (thank you @karma-is-a-cat-purringinmylap for the flawless music taste and ability to match music to text, ily)

wc: 760 words

“If I have to use my radio to tell you off one more time, neither of you are allowed on a mission for a month, do I make myself clear?”

The voice of the Olo’eyktan pierced through the silence in his family’s tent, his angry snd stiff demeanour not one to be trifled with, even on the best day. Today wasn’t one of those days. Your last mission almost went to shit, and if you were being honest with yourself, it was all because of you.

Well. Because of you and likely the world’s most frustrating, annoying, stupid, antagonistic man the world has ever had the misfortune of hosting in its midst. You hated Neteyam. There were certain privileges that came with being the son of the chieftain, the Omatikaya prince, and he made sure to take advantage of just about every one of them. He was cocky and arrogant, and he loved to push your buttons. So many buttons, it was like one of those little machines residing behind the Toruk Makto that the Sky People used to make symbols appear on the screen, and he was proficient at pushing the right combination to make you want to commit violent acts or reckless actions that he knew would get you into trouble.

You were a warrior. Not just any warrior, you were a great warrior. So great, in fact, people were saying you were for sure the next Neytiri, bound to achieve great things, bound to be a key player in the upcoming war with the Sky People.

Neteyam was also a warrior. Not just any warrior, he was a great warrior. So great, in fact, people were already excited for the prospect of him being Olo’eyktan one day, praising his calm, collected demeanour, his incredible hunting skills that were only second to his own father, his outstanding bow work and leadership instincts.

You two have competed your whole lives. For the title of best warrior. For supremacy. For finally settling who was the better one between the two. No one else cared, no one else thought it was important who was on top, as it wasn't a competition to begin with. The more, the merrier, right? Well, that's not how it worked with you two. His pride was wounded every time you were better than him at anything, and your pride was wounded every time he acted like it was somehow unexpected that you were.

He was a better hunter, but you were a better rider. He was better at making beaded necklaces, but you were a better alchemist. He was better with a machine gun, you were better with a sniper. But perhaps the toughest call to make when it came to your competition was when you were fucking each other. You both took great pleasure in making each other come undone, and you took even greater pleasure in rubbing the other's nose in it.

"I made you come in like 20 seconds, that has to be some sort of record."

"You have got to be kidding. You forget that you could barely contain yourself when I was riding you the other day. I didn't realise you can make such pretty, girly sounds, Neteyam."

That was your life, and today, it was no different. Loud moans were slipping past your plush, reddened lips in a saccadic burst of sound that you couldn't help exhale, no matter how much you were trying to. In truth, the man was a god at fucking you. He knew you so well, he knew your body like he's spent his whole life learning it, his whole life studying it. Still, you wanted to spite him, wanted to be quiet, wanted to not seem weak to him, give him another reason to be cocky, another reason to tease and antagonise you at a drop of a hat. But as he rutted into you at a pace that made you see stars, rubbing your clit in the way that made you dizzy, kissing your neck in the way that almost made you forget you hated him, he knew you were putty under his touch, and you couldn't find it in you to care.

"Neteyam, I -"

"I know, baby. You're doing so well for me. Such a good girl on my cock. Come, pretty girl. Come for me, I want to feel you milk me dry."

You came on command at his words, at his praise, that you never thought you'd ever want, but now were wondering how you're going to live without.

[disgruntledkittenface]

I started getting more involved in fandom and on tumblr a few months after my dad died. It was a weird time to become involved in a new community because I feel like I really started shutting people out during that time. I shared less of myself and held people at arm's length because I felt like I couldn't trust them with my grief. I had never had a loss like that before and I didn't know what to expect. It hit me sideways, and I felt like no one understood. And to be fair, most people I knew didn't understand simply because they hadn't been through it (and I've learned that grief is very individual – another person losing their dad might not understand my experience anyway). Grief makes people uncomfortable. They don't want to talk about it. And when I did talk about it, and I didn't get what I wanted or needed from those interactions, it really hurt.

It might have gotten easier if my mom hadn't started declining so soon after my dad died. At first, my sisters and I didn't know what was happening. I was the last of the three of us to really accept that she even was declining, and the way they would talk about her made me feel really protective of her. I haven't always been close to my sisters, and being at odds with them about how to take care of my mom really damaged our relationships for a long time. I felt like my dad wouldn't be proud of us because we weren't working together to take care of her. And I knew my mom was embarrassed by the symptoms of her Alzheimer's and didn't want people to see her having trouble with her memory and taking care of herself, so I didn't talk about it very much.

So writing fic really helped me communicate, but I don't think that translated into sharing the minutiae of day here very often. I think my Scorpio placements will always make it hard not to stick to a small, close circle, but I swear I used to be better at this. Since my mom died in January, I haven't felt very connected to the fandom. I don't feel like I fit in, I don't feel like I care about the same things. And it was really hard watching everyone have a collective experience of grief the last few weeks when grief has been so isolating for me. I can't imagine the difference it would have made to share it.

So when I thought about writing something about how I feel this morning, I felt like wait, I don't really do that, I can't do that. I felt that instinct to keep everything in and safe or something. I also worry about articulating something correctly more than maybe I should. I don't like to process what I'm feeling in front of people; I want to process and then say something. But I think that's holding me back.

The 2016 election happened less than a month after my dad died. I remember that week and it was fucking awful. I had trouble sleeping. I felt betrayed by my home state, Michigan. I thought I didn't know people who supported him. I didn't realize how white women held up white supremacy. I had no idea that he would resonate with so many people. But I didn't cry. I think I was already so fucking depressed that I just didn't have it in me.

I woke up this morning and I opened an email from NYT (which, why are they even emailing me, I'm not a subscriber) and it said that he won. And my first thought was no he didn't. My second reaction was to look for the punchline. But there wasn't one. The fact that I didn't expect it for a second time was the punchline, I guess. My husband seemed like he didn't want to talk about it at first. We talked a little before he left for work, but it's kind of like preaching to the choir when we talk because we usually agree.

I didn't cry until after my husband left. I was reading emails that I do actually subscribe to, and I just started sobbing. And it kind of took me by surprise, and I think that's because I didn't cry last time. I just really thought he was only playing to a vocal minority. When I was younger, I thought progress was linear, and it's just really disillusioning to realize that it's more cyclical. The idea of backlash to progress is just so fucking depressing. And I think I understand intellectually that people (straight white cis men and the women who uphold them) feel threatened by marginalized communities having equal rights, but emotionally I fundamentally do not understand. Like the idea of a trans kid having access to gender affirming care in Texas is somehow hurting anyone.

They want to get rid of no fault divorces so that women can't be independent and leave shitty men. They want to take away access to abortion, knowing it affects marginalized people more. But they don't want to do ANYTHING to help a baby after they're born. It's all so fucking transparent. And I don't think he believes in anything ideologically except that he should have power, and so many people's lives are going to be affected on a daily fucking basis in the name of what? (I know, white supremacy.)

None of this is anything you haven't already heard, and heard articulated better or more wittily by someone else. But I wanted to actually say it this time.

[lpanne]

The 9th Stocking is the hardest

i can't believe this will be the 9th stocking i've made??? I think it is also the one that required the most editing of the raw material and I designed the Christmas tree completely by myself so i'd like credit for that.

I started with this pattern from Mickey Unlimited - Ultimate Cross Stitch Collection from the designers Sandra S. Ritchie and Linda Diehl Tiano.

and got this:

(ignore that pluto has blue backstitching around his face that is how i mark the backstitching i've completed).

Alphabet from here

This pattern really made me grateful for MacStitch's layers tool, though my 7+ year old laptop had a bit of trouble is the number of layers i was playing with.

See below for some of the funny drafts i had.

This is the first set i sent to my aunt to see what she liked. I really liked the second one because i really think that first one looks like pluto is about to be run over. I would also like you to look at donald's right hand in the version where he is holding a present and realize that it is not anatomically possible to have that hand position with the palm up. If i got rid of the thumb it would have worked but i couldn't get that to look decent.

This second round of drafts i shrunk the width of the car, to better fit in the stocking outline. My aunt actually liked pluto in the toe, but we designed another version with donald and daisy in the toe that we ended up going with.

there was some final tweaking here. I have to say that my favorite thing about the christmas tree is the fact it covers the fact goofy's body is missing in the original pattern. This set of drafts is where i realized that donald's hand wasn't possible. I don't like this version nearly as much but at least it is possible.

For the final edits my aunt asked for lights instead of bobbles. I also changed the color of the Christmas tree to be lighter and we played around with the wreath a bit more.

It took me three months to run through all of these drafts because my aunt had to ask my cousin which versions she liked better for her son and i took awhile to do my part because i was also closing and moving into a condo! I hope i can get this done in time for my aunt to sew it together for this christmas, but we will just have to see.

[solarishashernoseinabook]

last second trick or treat request for will and alyss?

Here ya go! Have a treat to make up for all the trouble sending asks earlier :D

~

Alyss had spent a long and illustrious career moving up the diplomatic ranks.

(Not that ranks technically existed, of course. Except for apprentices and the head of every fief's diplomatic corps, all couriers were equal. But Alyss was quite high in the ranks they didn't have.)

Her prestige meant she didn't really need to take on extended missions, or travel very much. Really, at her age, she could have used the down time. Her back ached whenever she was in the saddle for more than a few hours, and she needed to squint to read the small printing on treaties. The delicate, gold-rimmed spectacles Will had given her for their last anniversary helped, but nothing made up for the difficulty in making the trips in the first place.

But she still did, for one very important reason.

That reason was tucked away in her satchel now.

She had just arrived back at the cabin from the Solitary Plain. She she smiled at the curl of smoke coming from the chimney. It was always good to know Will was home.

Tug must have given him a sign, or maybe he had been looking out for her, because Will was stepping down from the veranda as she rode up. He helped her dismount from her horse with a broad smile on his face, and kissed her. 'Welcome home, darling.'

'Thirty years of marriage, and you always welcome me back as though it was our first time apart,' Alyss teased.

'I'll keep doing it, too.' Will grinned. 'It could be worse. I could be utterly insufferable and greet you with flowers and a song every time you come back from somewhere.'

'Ugh! No thank you.' Alyss laughed and rubbed at some knots in her back. 'Will, I'm sorry, do you mind drawing me a hot bath while I unsaddle Nelly?'

'Are you sure you don't want me taking care of her?' Will asked. 'You shouldn't be lifting a saddle if you're in pain, you'll just make yourself feel worse.'

'Well, I suppose I could go inside, and get the bath ready myself while you take care of Nelly,' Alyss said, in feigned concession. 'But I just know if I sit and wait for all those kettles of water to boil, my muscles would seize up, and then I wouldn't be able to get into the bath at all. And no,' Alyss held up her hand before Will could even open his mouth, 'you can't do both for me, because that wouldn't be fair.'

Will couldn't hide his grin. 'Y'know, most wives try to get out of the more physically demanding task.'

'If you'd wanted a wife like that, you should've married someone else.' Alyss pecked Will's cheek, then took Nelly into the stable. Despite how sore she had acted, she was well enough to unsaddle and rub down her horse, and give her some warm mash.

Will must have had two kettles boiling at once, because the tin bath was already half-filled by the time Alyss went in. He poured in two more kettles of hot water, then helped her undress and settle into the tub. Finally, he placed a stool next to her with a steaming mug of herbal tea that would help ease her aches and pains, and crouched next to the tub. 'Need anything else?'

'Can you get me my satchel, please?'

Will dutifully brought it over and Alyss flipped open the lid of it. She withdrew a sheaf of papers and handed them to Will with a smile. 'There.'

This was why she still went on missions, why she put up with the pain and travel dust and inconvenience. Alyss had spent their marriage collecting folk songs from every place she visited for Will to play on his mandola. At first there had been several new songs after each trip, and their cabin had been filled with music from all over Araluen and beyond, but as the years passed it had gotten harder and harder to find new songs for him. These songs from the Solitary Plain were the crown jewel of her music collection - the people who lived there were so notoriously mistrustful of strangers that it had been very hard to find any music at all during her visit.

Will's eyes lit up when he realised what she had and he looked at her in delight. 'You found some?'

'Did you think I wouldn't?' Alyss teased.

Instead of answering, Will caught her chin and pulled her into a deep kiss, blindly taking the papers from her hand and putting them to one side. Alyss slid her arm around him and returned the kiss, and for a long time they stayed that way.

But the kiss couldn't last forever. Alyss didn't mind, though, because when he let go of her Will retrieved his mandola, and Alyss picked up her tea. Will sat next to her and tuned the strings, then picked up the topmost paper and played a few notes. He smiled as he got the feel for the melody, then he began playing, and singing the words that accompanied it. Alyss leaned against the side of the tub and cradled her tea, smiling as the music swelled around them and feeling herself falling in love with her husband all over again.

They stayed like that long after her tea was finished and the water in the tub was cool, Will singing and playing softly, Alyss humming along or singing some of the words, both of them sure in their conviction that life couldn't possibly get better than this.

[myahawkins]

Change and Alterations

We all have our ups and downs, me more than most I'd say... but I know for fact, that a moment in falling can be met with differential landings, You can fall smoothly and land soft, as if life was a bed of packed feathers... or you can fall fast and abruptly, landing as if life was solid concrete.

I've had a moment recently... where I fell so fast I didn't even get time to realize that I had fallen or even hit the ground. Just a flash, and it was a terrible kind of feeling.

Thanksgiving... ordinarily I'd be caught at the dinner table, arguing with someone unfortunately related to me. But this year... I'd be caught at the end of multiple bottles of cheap wine... hoping the world would stop... wishing my life would stop.

I just wanted some peace from all my failures and embarrassments... but as I am me and life is ever so kind to me... I found myself belligerently wondering my apartment halls... out the front door.

And again... as life is what it is... I became... weak... failing to stand or keep my balance was certainly something I was currently an expert at. And in my disaster what did I do? Well... call you of course.

I sat there on the stone bench in the cold as we talked... finally feeling that fraction of pain you've done for so many years, laying on porch sides late at night.

It didn't take you long to here my sniffles and teeth chatter... you saw through my lies immediately... got me to speak my pain and troubles... effortlessly... as you always do.

And within a flash you went from voice in my ear on my phone... to voice in my ear carrying me in your arms like some damsel in distress up to my apartment. Your voice was different?

What happened? You sounded so calm and collected... as if you knew everything was fine... but it certainly wasn't for me. It made me feel warm... made me feel... ok.

Everything about you is fucking strange... you've always been that way, always just... strange. You carried me through the hall... mad dogging anyone who dare look my way.

Talking to me, asking me about how I ended up like I was... I said "Ask my mother" you laughed and I felt my chest flutter a bit. And then... disaster struck again as if my situation wasn't already terrible.

Walking down my hall to my apartment... and I... lose control of my bladder... it soaked through my black skinny jeans... and all over... your arm... God fucking kill me please.

I was so embarrassed... I apologized 12 billion times in a second... you were politely shocked but not angry and kept walking down my hall reassuring me it was fine as it still happened.

... god... why must my life be this. I'm such a fucking God awful mistake... such a disaster, I shouldn't have made it past high school truly. But you made it to my room and to my bathroom.

You said "Wash up, I'll put your clothes in the washer" I took my shirt/top off, and struggled to remove my boots, so much so I asked you for help... once again you helped me.

I couldn't get my jeans off as I sat on the floor struggling... you helped peel those off me. Then you went to leave the bathroom but I grabbed your arm before you could get away.

Held you there as to stabilize myself on you as I removed my underwear, that was grossly soaked. Handed everything to you and off you disappeared to wash my things, not before turning the shower on for me.

I hopped in and sat on the ground, because standing for to long was hard and hurt my head. I thought... about how fucked I was and how I needed to call into work to tell them I was sick.

And how I realized I hadn't actually eaten anything all day, and how that was gonna show on my fucking apple watch later and my doctor was gonna be pissed.

I sloppily poured soap around my body as if I was a dirty dish in the sink, and cleaned myself, it must have taken what felt like an hour... I got out and fell against my door a little... I could smell eggs being cooked.

Then I heard your boots walk to the door and you knocked and said "Everything ok?" I replied... I could use some help drying off, which you obliged.

Dried me off and set down some socks, underwear and my fav PJs you found. I thought about a lot of things as you dried my thighs off... and how close your head was to my...

I still couldn't really walk, so up I went into your grasp again... you placed me on my bar seat, infront of a veggie omelet you made with a little cup of my pineapple juice.

You sat next to me on the other bar seat, and said "Eat up... and talk" and so I did, which felt... so nice... I started to feel way better as I ate and sipped away at my pineapple juice lol.

We talked for an hour or so till I was finished, where you promptly took my plate and cup and started to wash them immediately... laughing about some fun we had on our last trip.

Then you picked me up again and carried me off to my bed... you said "I'm gonna stay and watch over you if that's ok?" I said, of course... it was more than ok... it was needed.

You put on the little bristle docuseries I had told you about recently... I just... felt so much... everything in that moment... laying with you... I slowly inched closer to you.

Till my head gently rested against your shoulder... you picked your arm up and wrapped it around me, nestling my head on your chest... I held onto you... and I finally felt at rest again.

After months of what felt like one giant never ending nightmare... I was finally able to close my eyes and rest... you were so warm... and so comfortable... so... good. I love you... so much it almost hurts.

@soir-rouges-esprit

[imdoingsortagay]

Ooooo a valentine's day celebration? Would you be willing to write reader x Claire where Claire can't miss work so reader offers to join her for the day and Claire doesn't realize it's for the sole purpose of being a terrible tease? And maybe have it end in smut? (Preferably at the office because getting Claire into a headspace where she stops worrying about getting caught would be SUPER rewarding all on its own.)

Adventures at the campaign office

a/n: claire brain rot for the mf win

warnings: Smut

word count: 3.1 k words

This was the second Valentine's day when you and Claire were going to spend it together watching movies, baking some of her favorite red velvet cookies, and having the best sex on earth. You were not surprised and a bit disappointed when she told you that she couldn’t take the day off to spend it with you because she had to work on some essential office matters related to her senate campaign.

“ Can’t you just have Barkley deal with it Babe? I don’t think she’ll mind you taking the day off to get - 

“ I love you y/n but that woman knows way too much about our sex life at this point,” Claire groans as she gets herself another cup of coffee. She had tried hard to convince her campaign manager to give her the day off. Still, even after the shouting between the two of them and a PowerPoint presentation, there was no use in trying to get out of this when the race was starting to get closer to the opponent.

“ Says the one who can’t drink too much or else you get super drunk and ramble to her about how you like when i-” 

“ Okay okay I fucking get it you tease,” she pauses while you smile at her defeat,” What are you gonna do at home while I go to work, honey? “ 

“ I do not know Claire bear, might go by Peg's apartment and pick up some of the new toys she got us, thank her with cookies along with her favorite, stop by your office to get you lunch from that new brunch place, the day is still very young I guess”. 

“ What time did you want to come to the office? I have one meeting today and the rest of it is just paperwork,” Claire says casually while her mind says differently. While having you at the office brought the older woman happiness, she know that you had a habit of teasing her when you got way too bored just watching her and she needed to finish getting a couple of papers to one of the staffers before they took the week off. 

“ Probably around 11 am but i can come later once your meeting finishes honey, wouldn’t want to make you nervous leaving me all by myself in your office,” you giggle, thinking about teasing her at the office. Might as well make the most of the visit later while she works. 

“ y/n baby,” Claire starts,” I’ll text you when you can come to the office but think of doing anything that might get in trouble today, Barkley is already stressed out about a whole new group of interns so having you be a little tease wouldn’t be good energy to bring in. 

‘ Claire bear, i promise not to tease you if you're busy in the office” you cross your heart in front of her and she rolls her eyes at your dorkiness,” but please bring snacks to eat today, and don’t worry your pretty little head about lunch so I’ll get you some. You smile the moment you compliment Claire, never failing to blush when you praise/ compliment her about literally anything at all. 

Claire collects all of her belongings in her tote bag, gets her cup of coffee, and before she makes her way out of the house, kisses you on the cheek before you are left alone in the house. While you start with cleaning the house before even starting to bake, Claire tries not to stress out about having you in the office. Having you visit her at her job was a common thing before you both dated but the thought of Barkley telling you anything about being there. 

Baby<3: Have a good day at work my Claire Bear 

*hours later*

After running around doing some errands, picking up some stuff, and getting something to eat for your girlfriend, you park at the office. Feeling a bit nervous as Claire is a big fan of privacy and the thought of being caught having sex scares the fuck out of her so you had to think closely about teasing her. What you wore was pretty simple, just one of her favorite sweaters, jeans that show off your legs perfectly also giving your butt a bit of a lift, and a simple pair of shoes compared to everyone else in the office. 

“ Wasn’t expecting to see you here y/l/n? Are you here to come to distract Debella or make sure she focuses on what I asked her to do?” Jen asks you with a cup of coffee in her hand and always putting on her best “badass “ face per usual.

“ Promise to make her do her work Barkley but I’m just here to make sure she feeds herself and does not overwork herself like some people I know,” you respond before walking to Claire’s office. If there was one thing that Barkley appreciated about you is being able to joke around with her, especially being able to come up with witty remarks. 

Claire was just about done writing all of these candidate questions when she hears her office door open up to see you walk in, looking stunning as always and with a bag of food in your hand. 

“ Want me to lock the door baby?” You ask casually to her which makes her give you a look but you put up the innocent front instead. Better to have her calm and cool than all suspicious of what you might be planning today while here at the office with her. 

“ And the reason would be?” she asks while waving her hand around

“ So we could eat lunch together in peace without any of your staff, interns, or Jen trying to come in and stress you out my love,” you kindly explain to her, your girlfriend giving you a quick thumbs up to lock the door and you close the blinds as well to ensure nobody can see what’s going on. Claire doesn’t notice the second part as she had gotten her hands on the sandwich that you bought her. 

“ How many times do I always tell you to eat more stuff at breakfast besides coffee and a muffin Claire?” you chuckle as she eats the lunch quickly and for the next hour, Claire is getting most of what she was tasked to do done. Being told to focus by you when her mind dozes off to think about something related to her life, seeing you lay down on the couch or needing more decorations in the office. 

As you lay down on the couch reading a book, your phone rings to a message from Barkley and what’s surprising is that it’s a positive one from her. 

Jenny Poo: Maybe we should have you be at the office if she finishes her work at this rate

y/n: Welcome Barkley <3

“ Claire bear?” Do you ask? 

“ Yes honey?” she responds, writing the last question to the candidate form she was doing for one new station to use for an article. 

“ Do you mind if I take off my sweater? This office is just way too hot to be in it,” you say casually. 

“ sure thing honey,” she says to you and you get up from the couch to take off your sweater Claire chooses the right time to look up from her laptop and she tries her best not to drool at the sight of your arms. Always being proud of keeping your upper body in tip-top shape and overall being a tease to your girlfriend with it. Claire starts to feel her mind drift to other places at the thought of you doing things to her, in this office especially. 

“ Claire you doing okay? maybe you should take a break with me on the couch from working so hard on the campaign sweet one,” you say to her but she just looks at you with big eyes, unsure as to what to do. 

“ Sure uh year, a break could do me good,” she says for you to hear and she gets up from her chair to come and lay down with you. Nothing is going to happen between the two of you in this office today, she repeats in her mind.

“ My baby deserves to take a nap after working so hard to be elected, once this is over i just know you’ll beat the other man without a fight” you praise her while she lays on top of you. Claire tries her very best not to drift into sleep, reminding herself that naps are not allowed and that if she wanted to sleep she could at least wait until she got to her place to do so. Though that’s proving hard to do with the way you're gently petting her hair with one hand and rubbing circles on her back with the other one. 

“ Don’t want to nap baby, please,” She quietly pleads.

“ Be a good girl for me dove and nap, I know that you need at least a powernap to go through the other half of the day my sweet dove,” you plead, and a couple of minutes later, Claire is fast asleep on your lap, looking as pretty as always in slumber while you try to come up with a further plan as to tease her. 

Claire wakes up 30 minutes later, feeling good before slowly making her way off your body, leaving you to continue napping on the couch. She makes her way to her desk to answer some emails, and check out some designs for her mailers being used soon while she peeks at your sleeping body every once in a while and smiles at the fact that you didn’t succeed 

She smiles proudly at herself for not falling for your tricks when she hears you mumbling, right when she was about to win at this teasing game too. 

“ mmmmmmmm pretty claire bear,” you say to yourself in your sleep and she tries not to imagine what horny dream is going on in your mind. 

She had known from the start of your relationship about your sleep talking, assuring you that you had nothing to be embarrassed about but from time to time she’s had to deal with your wet dreams, and most of the time they were about herself in rather sticky situations. One that you told her was about Claire riding your strap, eating her out in the office, threeway with her and some famous actress that Claire was a huge fan of and the list can go on. Now all she hoped was that it was just a cute dream and not a horny one.

“ boobs look, nice baby,” you say and she feels herself getting soaked, hoping that she doesn’t have to change her underwear by the end of the day. For the next 20 minutes, Claire is in hell as you continue to mumble some very dirty things that make her blush but she’s saved by the universe when your alarm goes off on your phone, probably being the nap one you set up. 

“ Oh,’ you say,” How long was i asleep for baby?” 

Claire continues to write like she isn’t soaking wet right now, trying to pull off a brave face while you wonder what happened during the time you napped. 

“ Claire bear,” you say as you make your way to her,” If I ask you a question, i know that my sweet dove knows than to ignore what her daddy asks her”.She continues to ignore you, acting like you’re not in the office but once she feels you move her chair a bit to sit on her lap, is when she knows that it’s not going to go well for her. 

“ Princess,” you say as you hold her chin up so she has to make eye contact with you,” Stop acting dumb and use that pretty brain of yours to answer daddy’s question: How long was i asleep for?”. 

“ About 50 minutes or so,” she mumbles,” i had a 30-minute nap through daddy like you wanted me to”. At that moment, Claire hopes that just that will get her off her case and she can go back to work. 

“ Why are you so flustered princess? Something must have happened to make you act out for daddy and you know how much i hate having to punish you? Remember to be honest”.

“ You were mumbling some stuff in your sleep that made me all wet and I was trying to act like it didn’t affect me at the moment, daddy,” she says to you and at that moment you smile at your baby for being honest. It would have been fun to punish her in the office, Claire would have had such a hard time trying to be quiet and Jen didn’t mention these walls being soundproof in any way. 

“ Should daddy help her baby out a bit? For being such a good girl?” Claire nods. 

“ Please daddy!!! I’ve been your good girl”.

“ Since you asked so nicely-” and you were cut off by Claire kissing you, her lips always being so soft on yours. At that moment she doesn’t care that anyone in the office can hear her going on with her, the only priority at the moment is to feel your mouth on her wet cunt. 

“ Someone is wet,” you comment as you move away from her lips and start to go lower down her body, remembering to gently remove her shirt before being greeted by Claire wearing one of her pretty bras for work. She doesn’t say anything at all when you push the cups down to expose her tits, nipples hardening right away to the cold air in the office but you start to suck on her right nipple, giving her other nipple attention too. Enjoying all the little whines and moans that are coming out of the older woman’s mouth as she holds off from enjoying this being that she’s about to be fucked in her office. 

“ Should I go lower Princess? Or should Daddy wait til we get home so you can scream all you want ?” you ask your girlfriend nicely as you position herself between her legs. At that moment, Claire loses any sort of thought when she sees her between her legs, mind going crazy at the thought of you eating her out in such a professional place but she doesn’t think that she can wait about 2 more hours to get fucked by you. 

“C'mon princess,” you taunt,” Just answer daddy’s simple question and i can make you feel good now or you can wait like a good princess.” 

Claire quickly lifts herself from the chair so you can take off her pants and panties, swiftly taking them off of her and placing them to the side of her. Before your girlfriend even tries to beg, you immediately l start to lick at her wet cunt, moaning in delight at the taste of her every time that you can.

“ Fuck I love your mouth Daddy,” Claire moans out before covering her mouth, shoving her fingers in her mouth to somewhat try to muffle out any sounds threatening to come out of her. She was always a loud person during sex and you never shy  away from telling her how fucking hot she sounds moaning and whining, boosting her confidence so much. 

“ My Slutty little princess,” You moan as your mouth leaves her wet cunt, “ gonna get you ready with my fingers sweet dove, you deserve to be fucked til you can only think about my cock”. Claire shudders as she feels two fingers slowly go into her cunt, thankful for her wetness, waiting for her to be comfortable before moving her fingers in and out of her pussy. Observing how hot Claire looks gripping her chair. 

“ Can we move to the couch please?” Claire pleads,” Want you on top”. 

Never the one to deny your sweet dove, you take your fingers out of her cunt, helping claire get off the chair before guiding her to the couch and placing her in your lap before continuing to finger her cunt. 

While both of you are going at it, Jen Barkley is in her office trying her very best to wait for the email with the second set of candidate questions that she needed Debella to do before the end of the day. Jen does try her best to respect Claire but she was worried about having you in the office in fear of distracting her from her work, having learned from past experience with Knope and Wyatt, who never seemed to think when they fuck in the office and having to drink heavily a couple of nights to forget the sight of it.

“ Guess i gotta check up on her,” she mumbles to herself, getting the spare key to the office in case she can’t get in because it's good to be prepared. Of course, when the woman gets to the door, it’s locked and the blinds are closed so she can’t see what’s going on but she can hear noises of some sort. Being an impatient person, Jen unlocks the door and then proceeds to come in the office and it is greeted by the both of you going at it, Claire on top of you completely nude on the couch while she’s getting fingered by you.

“ What the fuck do you want now Barkley? Can’t you see me and my Claire bear are busy?” you say, picking up the pace as you finger your girlfriend while her muffled moans get louder. In a rare moment, you try to hold in your laughter as the tough strong woman that Jen is, has no witty comeback or snarky remark to say, only focusing on the way your fingers look amazing in Claire's cunt, wishing she can feel the same way ( mostly from the lack of sex she’s gotten). 

“Uhm,” she stutters” the email thing, claire needs to send it before-” 

“ She’s got it done honey i’ll send it after we’re done,” you say,” Now can you leave the office, Barkley, i wanna fuck my pretty girlfriend”. Jen says nothing else before quickly walking out of the office, locking it beforehand then making her way back to her office and calling one of her situationships to set something up. 

“ Ready for my cock sweet princess?” you ask, Claire, nodding and getting into position as you put on the harness and strap on before fucking her in the office, happy to have decided to visit her at the office today.

[biowaredisasterbisexual]

And a continuation with Fluff 4, because these are fun and I cannot help myself. Also just for fun! And also likely to follow the earlier prompt and one day evolve into something for the multichapter mess that haunts me.

Fluff 4. Character A and Character B go dancing.

Rook was trying very hard not to keep looking over at Neve as nonchalantly made his way through the main hall of the Imperator’s house. He didn’t have a specific destination in mind, just a goal: to figure out what the cultists were up to.

So he and Neve had split up - which felt, honestly, kind of unfair after having already spent an entire week apart, but he guessed he could only complain so much - and were mingling. Something he suspected she hated far more than he did.

And something that would be even easier if he could possibly stop trying to, however unconsciously, find her with his eyes.

It wasn’t his fault. Neve in a formal robe was something he’d committed to memory the moment she’d changed clothes. He was only human.

He’d made idle conversation with several bureaucrats, clearly all hoping to get on the Imperator’s good side based on how they fawned over the man, and now was overdue for a drink. Both for camouflage and because something had to liven this party up, and so long as they were split up it tragically wouldn’t be Neve.

“I told you not to cause trouble in my city,” a low and angry voice said, just behind his ear over by the bar. Rook accepted his drink and smiled amiably at the Legate.

“Who’s causing trouble? I’m just here to have a good time and partake in libations way fancier than I normally get to.”

Well, okay, it wasn’t entirely true. He was friends with Lucanis, after all. But the Legate didn’t need to know that.

The older man glared at him, and Rook grinned. “I’ve got my eye on you.”

“With all this scenery to take in?” Rook gestured at the ‘distinguished guests’ around the room. “Seems like a waste.”

He smiled sweetly and took a sip of the expensive whiskey he held.

The Legate stomped away, and Rook silently gave himself another point towards victory.

“It can’t be!” Faster than Rook would have guessed, he was being tugged around by a thin woman with a pinched face, dressed in a silken garment that even he knew wasn’t cheap.

“Iulia,” he recognized. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since your wedding to my cousin. How are you?”

“All the better now that you’re here!”

He looked at her in confusion. He couldn’t figure out how him being there would in anyway improve her night in the least. His eldest cousin, Octavian, had never been Rook’s biggest fan - and he couldn’t imagine that had changed after all these years - it wasn’t like he and Octavian’s wife had ever been close.

“Thanks, it’s…good to see you too.” He took another sip of his drink. “I hope you have a-“

She grabbed his free hand with surprising strength for a woman so small, and began dragging him towards the center of the room.

“Oh, but we can’t part ways without at least one dance!”

This was weird. Very weird. And after watching Harding become a conduit of titan magic, an elven god’s face speak to them from the clouds, and smug, sad cat of a powerful mage bound to the veil separating the normal world from the Fade, Rook knew weird.

He hadn’t even danced with Iulia at her wedding, when he and his family had been on good terms. He couldn’t imagine why it would ever be necessary now.

But causing a scene - well, right now anyway, later might be different - wasn’t going to help him or Neve collect information. So Rook set his drink down as they reached the floor and let himself be pulled on to it for what would probably be the second or third most awkward dance of his life.

“Oh, you can hold me closer than that!” Her feigned laugher was grating, and Rook steered his hands back to the proper position even as she tried to tug them down. “We’re family.”

“I doubt your husband would appreciate that, cousin,” he replied, his brain finally piecing together what was happening here.

She wanted to either piss Octavian off or make him jealous. And, not that Rook had incredibly fond feelings for her older cousin, he didn’t really want to participate.

Years of formal education let him put his footwork to the back of his mind, muscle memory taking over, and allowing him to focus on how to get out of this as quickly as possible and keeping his hands in the standard position. Despite Iulia’s best efforts.

Neve’s distinctive gait behind him was a welcome relief, and he grinned as he felt her tap his shoulder. “I’m afraid I have to cut in.”

He immediately let go of Iulia, and thanked a Maker he hardly believed in for the fact it now wasn’t a slight. “Neve,” Rook said, hoping his smile conveyed the mountain-sized amount of gratitude he felt. “Of course.”

He turned to his cousin’s wife and offered an apologetic shrug. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening. You’ve been very interesting company.”

He could almost feel Neve hiding a smirk. Iulia glared at them both and all but stomped away.

“So,” Rook held out his arms. “Shall we?”

Neve’s expression faltered, just for a moment, as she stepped closer and Rook placed a far less careful hand on her waist and took her hand. “I haven’t done this since the Circle, Trouble.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised, and he felt like he’d won a prize as she smiled. Whether due to a year of fighting together, months of extracurricular activities together, or just natural chemistry, they moved together easily as Neve followed his lead.

Rook couldn’t say he’d ever thought much about formal dancing with Neve Gallus. But after tonight, it might be all he could think about for awhile.

Writing Challenge Wednesday:

Yay Wednesday! Let's write! (Btw if you sent a Rook Storytime Ask I'm still working my way through them thank you for being patient, they're actually really helping me flesh out my next story and they're a ton of fun. ) As always on these there is no time limit, tag or link or dm or reblog or comment under this post! No word count either just have fun with it that's what it's here for. I don't have standards for submission take or leave what you want, link your Ao3's, and it's all tagged writing challenge on my page! As long as it gets you writing I don't care and I will share. Let me show you off!!!

Okay I did a really fun self-imposed challenge where I turned fluffy head canons into angst cause I can turn anything into angst if you give me long enough ;) I thought it'd be fun to play with that today so I'm going to give you some fluffy head canons and some angsty head canons and I want you to flip the script and take the mood from fluff to angst or angst to fluff. (Please do platonic relationships as well as romantic if you're so inclined I'm into that)

Fluff:

Character A gives Character B a present.

Character A helps character B with their hair/makeup/outfit.

Character A and Character B want to teach Character C a skill.

Character A and Character B go dancing.

Characters A, B, and C are druuuuuuuuunk.

Angst:

Characters A and B have to go to a funeral together.

Character C has tragically gone missing and A and B have to cope.

Character A has lost someone close to them and can't stop crying. Character B and if you want Character C notices as well.

Character A has lost an important item to them or it was destroyed.

Character A and Character B are fighting for real. Real emotional or physical or both. Perhaps Character C intervenes or they work it out themselves.

Have at it and I will post mine later!!!!!

[navnae]

The Charm (18+)

Steve Harrington m/m Smut

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: age gap, handjobs, blowjobs, sexual favors, edging, mean!steve, flirtatious!steve

Summary: AU where Steve is the one that goes with Nancy to the asylum and we learn the deeper meaning of what Steve meant when he said he can use his charm.

a/n: this idea was floating in my head so I just wrote it, it’s probably bad but hey.

-

The moment Steve heard that he was going to be stuck with the kids again he immediately protested against it but Nancy wasn’t listening to him at all. She was busy pulling out clothes from her closet and deciding what outfit looked the most convincing. He didn’t care if his complaining was going in one ear and out the other he just wanted to be heard. Nancy rolled her eyes as he continued to ramble on about how there had to be something he could do to be helpful.

“Nance I’m telling you maybe bringing me along wouldn’t be such a bad thing. While you’re talking about all the important stuff I can just stand to the side and use my charm to make him buy what we’re selling.” Steve shrugged. He believed that if he came along they would be able to get what they needed a lot faster without putting up much of a battle, he knew how tough some people were in these types of places. Nancy laughed at the thought of Steve using his looks to convince the warden to see Creel. She’s heard a lot of ridiculous things but that was truly one of the best ones.

“Your charm? Steve do you realize how important this is and how much trouble we could get in if anything goes wrong. I’m not willing to get caught up in your foolishness because your flirting with a middle aged man didn’t go right.” Nancy shook her head as she found an outfit and put it up against herself. Okay Steve would admit his plan sounded a little far fetched but if she gave his vision a chance they would be in there in no time.

“Fine I get the point. All I’m saying is with a little bit of sweet talk it would be impossible to push us away.” Steve justified his tactics and technically he wasn’t lying. Whenever he used his looks majority of the time he gets what he wants, now he could finally do it for a great cause. Nancy rolled her eyes and waved him off.

“Maybe another time, Steve. This time me and Robin are going to be the ones to go.” Nancy said excitedly after pulling out two dresses for both of them to wear. Robin looked up from Nancy’s music collection and eyed the dresses she was holding. The look of disgust on her face wasn’t something she could hide very well.

“Oh absolutely not, I’m not wearing that. Sorry Nancy you can count me out for this one.” Robin looked apologetic and sincere. Nancy frowned slightly as she lowered the dresses down. She glanced at Steve who had a wide smile on his face.

“No! I rather go by myself then.” Nancy gathered her everything she needed and she was determined to do whatever she needed to do to get the information even if she had to do it alone. Steve felt like Nancy would never give in no matter what he did. Of course he had his moments of being goofy and not someone to take serious but at a time like this he wasn’t going to screw anything up.

“Nance, come on. I promise that nothing will go wrong and if it does I’ll clean up the mess. You have to trust me on this okay?” Steve said softly. Nancy kept her eyes on her dress that she laid out on her bed letting Steve’s words repeat in her head. It took a few seconds for her to look at Steve and see that his features were softer, he really meant what he said. She took a deep breath before responding.

“Alright we can go together but if anything goes wrong I’m never talking to you again.” Nancy threatened with her finger pointing at Steve.

“Understood.” Steve nodded his head feeling excited. Now he could finally do something that didn’t involve him watching the kids. Steve loved them dearly it just got annoying that he never got to do anything besides that and hopefully joining Nancy would prove to them he was more than the babysitter.

-

They stopped by Steve’s house so he could make a quick change into something that fit the occasion. Steve ran to his closet and quickly searched for any old suit that would do the job. He tried on a few until he finally found one that actually looked good and it showed of his body extreme well. Steve hurried into the bathroom to check himself, Steve wasn’t the kind of person to brag or anything but if he’d played his cards right there was a good chance that anyone that crossed paths with him would want to fuck him and that was his goal. Steve ran his hands through his hair making it messy then he puckered up his lips to add flavored chapstick on to them also adding a red tint to them. After he finished touching himself up he went outside and made his way towards the car as Nancy waited in side. When Steve sat down Nancy had to do a double take at his appearance. Steve noticed that she was staring at him and he started to get nervous under her gaze.

“What?” Steve blurted out. Nancy gave him a death glare. She didn’t like his outfit in the slightest there was no way they were going to be taken seriously if Steve looked like that.

“This isn’t a runway at a fashion show at a fashion show, Steve. This is an asylum that has a patient that we need to see and he could possibly help us prevent the world from coming to an end.” Nancy said with frustration being evident in her voice.

“Nance I’ve already told you that I know what I’m doing and I promised you that if anything goes wrong I’ll clean it up.” Steve already had in mind how things were going to go which were the complete opposite of what Nancy was thinking. They’ve made it this far that it would be ludicrous to turn around now, Nancy hoped that she wouldn’t end up regretting her decision.

The drive was shorter than what both of them had expected. They pulled into the parking lot of the hospital both of them feeling the pressure weighing heavy on them. After getting themselves together and headed towards the building. Once they entered a woman standing behind the front desk caught their eyes. Nancy led the way with Steve following behind her and she put on a sweet smile when the woman saw her. Steve smiled as well to play off of Nancy’s body language.

“Hello, what can I help you with today?” The woman’s voice is sweet and innocent. Hearing how nice she sound made Steve and Nancy let their guards down a little bit.

“Hi we’re academic students who are doing a research paper on one of your patients Victor Creel. We were kind of hoping that we could interview him for our paper?” Nancy asked. The woman’s face changed and she started to become hesitant when talking to Nancy. She looked down at some papers that were laying on the desk in front of her before looking up at Steve and Nancy.

“With a request like that you kids are playing a very dangerous game. I can’t personally give you the green light to see Mr. Creel but I can take you to see Mr. Hatch and maybe all of you can come to an agreement on something, how does that sound?” The woman suggested. Nancy nodded her head quickly smiling widely.

“That would be perfect. Thank you.” Nancy said before her and Steve followed the woman down the hallway. She brought them to a room that had a name beside it. ‘Anthony Hatch’ was what Steve could see and he kept note of it just in case it would be useful to him.

The woman opened the door and behind it revealed an office setup that clearly belonged to the man sitting in the chair shuffling through stacks of papers. His attention turned to all of them walking into the room and he didn’t seemed pleased about it in the slightest. Steve observed the man in front of him to see what he was working with, he’s had a few experiences with the stone cold type of men who kept up the facade that they were big and bad. This didn’t seem like anything different all Steve needed was a minute with this guy and they’ll be seeing Creel real soon.

“Can I help you with something?” Hatch asked with no emotion on his face.

“These kids wanted to do a research paper on Victor Creel. I figured that you would want a say in that.” The woman and Hatch shared a look that only they knew what it meant.

“Ah I see. Well thank you for bringing them in you may return back to work.” Hatch told the woman, for a second he smiled then it went away once she left the room. Nancy and Steve stood there like statues not knowing what to do next. Hatch sighed as he looked at both of them, “you can take a seat.”

Nancy and Steve quickly took a seat in the two chairs that were in front of his desk. They say there in silence waiting for Hatch to make a comment or ask them to get into details about why they were there but none of that happened. Nancy took it upon herself to speak up and start a conversation.

“I would like to say it’s a true pleasure to talk to you today Mr. Hatch and you’ve heard the reason why we’re here. It would mean so much-“

“I’m sorry, who are you exactly?” Hatch interrupted. Nancy and Steve looked at each other nervously. They never talked about what their names were going to be if anyone asked.

“I’m… Ruth and this is-“

“Scott.” Steve wanted to die right on the spot. Hatch raised a brow as he glanced over at Steve. He noticed that Hatch kept his eyes on him for an insanely long time and looked away when Steve caught on. Steve haven’t even started flirting yet but Hatch already seemed like he had a little bit of an issue.

“If you don’t mind me asking what school do you go to?” Hatch kept pushing on with the questions. Steve and Nancy had an idea that he probably knew that both of them were lying and he was just wondering how far would they go.

“Um… Clinton university.” Nancy lied. She closed her eyes and mentally scolded herself. Steve tried to help by smiling at Hatch, the man just wasn’t having it.

“I fear that there is no such thing as a Clinton university around here ma’am or a Ruth and Scott that goes there. Now if you tell me why you want to see one of my patients there will be no police involved but if you don’t I’ll let the police deal with it.” Hatch said firmly. Steve had a feeling that this was going to happen and right now was the time he needed to do something. Nancy’s mind was filled with thoughts that prevented her from focusing on what Hatch had said. Steve stepped up to the plate and prepared himself for what was going to happen next.

“Ruth, can you step out for a second. Me and Mr. Hatch need to have a chat.” Steve didn’t have to look at Nancy to know that she was looking at him as if he’s lost his mind.

“What?”

“Trust me just this once.” Steve said softly. Nancy contemplated if she wanted to let Steve handle this situation or was getting arrested worth its. She didn’t have enough time to dwell on it for long so she gave Steve a little nod before standing up from her chair and exiting the room leaving the two men alone. Now that Steve had to do things by himself there was no going back now. Steve leaned up in his seat and adjusted his suit with his hands, Hatch watched Steve intently his eyes lingering on him just like before but this time there was no subtly in it. “Mr. Hatch, since it’s just us at the moment I think you should really reconsider letting both of us do our research paper on Victor Creel. All of it is harmful and it wouldn’t ruin your reputation or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Listen. I may not have any idea what exactly the both of you are doing but it ends right here or else.” Hatch couldn’t match the firm tone from earlier. Steve caught on to the shakiness in his voice and he smirked at how Hatch started cracking underneath Steve’s gaze. He stood up from his seat slowly making sure that every movement that he made came off as sexy.

“You see Mr. Hatch or Anthony if you will. Both of us know that you don’t want that.” Steve said lowering his voice. Steve took a few steps towards Hatch’s desk and placed his hands on top of it, bending over slightly while cocking his head to the side as he batted his eyelashes. Hatch leaned back in his seat visibly gulping when Steve reached his hand into a small bowl of candy that was in front of him then putting it up to his lips and sticking out his tongue to lick the piece of candy. He swirled it over the candy for a second before putting it into his mouth. Hatch let out a shaky breath while watch Steve, unable to say anything without making an embarrassing noise. The bulge that formed in his pants proved that Steve’s plan was working better than he thought it would. He laughed lightly as he watched Hatch try to cover it up once Steve noticed up. “Instead of hiding it why don’t I help you with it.”

Hatch’s eyes widened when Steve started making his way around the desk and he made himself comfortable on Hatch’s knee. Steve could feel Hatch’s erection against his knee and he moved it at a quick pace to create some friction. Hatch put his hand on Steve’s waist then looked up at him with his mouth open low moans coming from him. Steve slid his hand towards Hatch’s crotch and gripped it tightly making him back his hips up in Steve’s hand.

“Already hard from just looking at me, that’s truly pathetic.” Steve spat as he tightened his grip on Hatch’s clothed erection. His cock twitched underneath the layers of clothing and he held Steve close, small whimpers managing to come out of his mouth.

“I know it is… you’re so pretty I don’t deserve to be this close to you. God, i’d do anything to touch you. Can I touch you please.” Hatch begged. His hands ran over Steve’s stomach and he tried to get his fingers underneath the button up shirt he was wearing but Steve stopped his hand from going any further. He smiled at Hatch before leaning in close to his ear.

“Don’t be so eager, Anthony. Let’s focus on what we have here.” Steve whispered. Smoothly he slid his hand over Hatch’s belt and undoing it with ease. Steve kissed the his neck as he was was able to get access to Hatch’s cock that throbbed in Steve hand when he pulled it out. Hatch looked wrecked already with his head thrown back and kept begging Steve to do whatever he wanted. His chest rising rapidly as Steve wrapped his hand around the base of his cock then stroking it slowly. The tip was decorated with precum that got on Steve’s thumb when he pushed down on it to tease Hatch. He squirmed under Steve’s touch and his sounds were only getting louder, Steve wondered if Nancy could hear any of it or did she even have a clue of what they were doing.

“Oh lord.” Hatch breathed. He thrusted upwards in Steve’s hand trying to get himself off quickly. Steve played along with what Hatch tried to accomplish so he took his hand and started to stroke Hatch’s cock faster. Building up that tension in his body with every question close movement that Steve did. Hatch moaned as Steve connected their lips together and he could feel himself getting closer to coming. “Fuck, you taste good”

“I know.” Steve said against Hatch’s lips. The older man couldn’t take it anymore everything in his body started getting tighter and his moans became choppier as he was losing his breath. Steve quickened the pace of his hand letting Hatch almost reach his climax then removing his hand making everything stop all together. Hatch cried out from not being able to cum and he looked at Steve with pleading eyes.

“Why’d you stop?” Hatch whined. Steve should’ve made it clear that he wasn’t going to make this easy for Hatch or that he wasn’t leaving without making his point clear. He was there for one reason only.

“You only get to cum if you allow me and my friend to talk to Creel, do I make myself clear?” Steve took his hand and wrapped it around the base but not moving it which made Hatch annoyed.

“Fine I will… just don’t stop.” Hatch let out a low moan when Steve started moving his hand again. This time Steve went through with making Hatch cum. The man’s entire body shook from Steve roughly stroking his cock until streams of hot white substance landed on Hatch’s suit and some of it getting onto Steve’s hand. Hatch went limp after coming so hard, he closed his eyes trying to steady his breathing. Once he came down from his high he looked at Steve and smiled lazily. “That’s the hardest I’ve ever came”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that.” Steve joked. When he tried to stand up Hatch pulled him back down onto his knee keeping his hand on Steve’s waist.

“Leaving so soon? I thought we could have a little more fun.” Hatch took Steve’s hand and licked his own cum off of his fingers then putting one of them into his mouth, sucking it softly. Steve couldn’t deny the feeling of his pants getting tighter. As much as he wanted to take things a step further he knew his time was limited.

“We’re kind of on a time crunch but if we make it quick no one will suspect anything.” Steve didn’t get a chance to process what was happening before he was being lifted up and put on the desk. Hatch pulled Steve in for a hasty kiss then he started kissing Steve’s neck. Steve moaned loudly while Hatch undid his belt and pulled his pants down halfway. Steve’s cock hit against his shirt, Hatch wrapped his hand around it before getting on his knees. Steve felt butterflies in his stomach when Hatch kissed the base softly. He moaned breathily from the contact.

“Pretty.” Hatch smirked against Steve’s cock then he licked the side of it. He gave his base a few strokes before taking all of Steve into his mouth and he got to work. Steve let out a gasp when Hatch shoved his cock to the back of his throat and he kept up his rhythm while bobbing his head. To say he was a man in power Steve felt amazing knowing that he was able to get him on his knees. Hatch sped up his movements and Steve’s leg stared to shake around Hatch’s head as he pushed them upward. With loud moans escaping his lips when Steve grabbed the back of Hatch’s head and pushed him down. Steve came into his mouth, not one drop of it spilled out. Hatch pulled away and he looked Steve directly in the eyes as he swallowed his cum.

“Holy shit that’s hot.” Steve didn’t know what else to say but the smug look on Hatch’s face showed didn’t need to say much. Hatch stood up and kissed Steve gently which shocked Steve due to the previous events. After a few seconds Hatch pulled away and smiled.

“This might be a little forward to ask but would you want to-��

“Anthony, you’re getting a little bit ahead of yourself. Let’s focus on what you promised okay?” Steve had to let Hatch know that there wasn’t enough time for sweet talk.

“Right. I’ll get right on that then.” Hatch continued to smile from ear to ear and gave Steve a quick kiss on the cheek. Both of them started fixing their clothes to what they believed looked good.

They exited the room and Nancy looked at both of them with wide eyes. She noticed that Steve was extremely sweaty, his face was flushed and slightly red. Hatch lead them down the hallway to take take then to where Victor Creel was supposed to be staying. None of this made since to her the idea of Steve pulling this off was making her world spin out of control.

“What happened? How did you convince him to let us see Victor?” Nancy whispered. Steve had flashback of what just happened a few minutes ago and all he could do is laugh.

“I used my charm.” Steve joked as he winked at Nancy. She furrowed her brows in confusion but she didn’t push the conversation any further, all that matters is that they were going to get the important information they needed.

-

This took me way too long to write but I was so passionate about this idea! I’m starting to like writing on here and maybe y’all could give some requests? Hope y’all enjoyed 🥰

[theteasetwrites]

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 99: In the Company of Angels

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 11 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: major character death ❧ Word Count: 3.5k

❧ In This Chapter: The Commonwealth is saved in one last effort to defeat the herd. When the panic dies down, there is happiness, but not everyone will live to see another day.

❧ A/N: Second-to-last chapter! So this one is pretty short, but I wanted to write the time jump in the next chapter (aka the last chapter ahhh). I tried to add in some stuff to tie in Reader's father and some of the characters she was closest to. You might also notice that I purposefully made Reader kind of uncomfortable with the celebration (because I was uncomfortable with the celebration lmao). I just felt like it was kind of random and unrealistic (yes I am aware that there are zombies walking around, but within the context of the show, it's nice to have the way people behave be a little realistic). Idk the whole dinner scene didn't sit right with me, so I tried to convey that a little bit lol.

Date: April 18, 2021

Time: Midnight

Our arrival to the Commonwealth was fraught with some… trouble. A herd had somehow gotten through the walls. Governor Milton’s orders were to direct the swarm to the lower wards, where the poor live. She’d also caught onto Mercer’s betrayal, imprisoning him. By the time we arrived, the walkers were flooding into the streets. We took the sewers through to Union Station, where a shootout ensued. Myself and many others were shot, and at this point my recollection fails me, but I’m told that at some point, Princess led a group to release Mercer from his prison. From there, Mercer and his guards snuck us into a safehouse in the Estates, where Pamela and the other elites were hoarding the last of the medicine. We lost Luke and Jules to the walkers. Lydia and Aaron had lost track of Jerry and Elijah in the herd, but they joined with us again by some miracle. Rosita found her daughter, Coco. She is safe, and so is Eugene, Yumiko, and Maxine. 

The estates have the luxury of walls to keep the walkers out, but it kept the Commonwealth citizens out, too. Pamela refused to open the gates, signing a death sentence for the unlucky ones who were locked outside. They were screaming, crying, and begging to be let inside, spared from the dead.

Father Gabriel Stokes took a stand, ignoring the guns pointed at him as he made his way to the gate, preparing to shoot the lock and let the people in to save their lives from the impending herd. Governor Milton commanded her guards to shoot him down, but a resounding voice stopped them. It was Alexandria’s own Daryl Dixon, bravely approaching the governor herself, no weapons drawn. His words were simple, but louder than any gunshot, and stronger, too. 

“Stop,” he said. “We all deserve better than this. You built this place to be like the old world, that was the problem. We’ve got one enemy. We’re not the walking dead.”

You paused for a moment, thinking of what to write next. It was most important that you wrote down exactly what Daryl had said, you figured. You supposed the rest now was living history, and you’d have to write more later, when you could collect your thoughts.

Daryl himself made his way over to you, looking just as dashing and brave as he did just a few hours ago now. As you sat up in your bed, he eyed you suspiciously. Hadn’t he just told you to rest? And yet there you were, etching hundreds of words into your journal, frantically writing down every thought that had come to you the past twenty-four hours. Everything that happened here tonight was important, and so much more was about to be underway. 

When you felt his gaze on you, you lifted your head from your journal. The letters were starting to make you dizzy anyway. “Yes?” you asked. 

A few men dressed head to toe in Commonwealth armor pushed past Daryl, carrying various boxes of explosives. It made you nervous, to say the least, but it was all part of the plan. Mercer’s plan. 

Daryl crossed his arms with a huff, coming forward to sit himself down beside your bed. He’d left a chair there for himself, marked rather obviously by his vest. “Thought you were gonna be restin’.”

“I am resting.”

“No, you’re writing.”

“Well, I can write and rest at the same time, can’t I?”

He narrowed his eyes at your left arm, still wrapped tight in its sling. “How you feel?”

“My arm hurts,” you sighed. “But I’ll be fine.”

Out of curiosity, Daryl leaned back in his chair, his neck craning to get a look at what you were writing. “I see my name,” he said, focusing on your familiar cursive writing. “What’re ya sayin’ about me?”

“Oh,” you sighed dramatically, “just about how… noble, and brave, and heroic my husband is.”

You swore his eyes rolled into the back of his head. “Stop.”

“Why? It’s true. Besides, Robin and Westley will need to know how great their father is. It’s important, you know. And maybe someday they’ll have children of their own, and they’ll tell them about their… grandpa.”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, no way. I’m not gonna be a grandpa.”

“Maybe you will,” you said with a shrug, and a mischievous grin. Sometimes, you got far too much enjoyment out of teasing him, but he was just so serious, and it was so fun to make that serious demeanor crumble, as it only really could for you. “It’s important to think about the future, about the consequences of all this.”

“All’s I know is what’s goin’ on right now. And right now it’s time to go, so get your journal.”

Indeed, the plan was ready. Aaron and some of the others had already diverted the herd, clearing a path for a truck to leave the estates and bring back the fuel. The plan was to light up the sewers, soak them in gasoline and lead the flame to the center of the estates, where the walkers would be corralled. 

You could hear it now, the music just starting. “Cult of Personality” by Living Colour. Fitting, you supposed. The lyrics didn’t matter, though. What mattered was that the music was loud enough to bring the walkers to the estates. When those mansions were going to blow up, you didn’t want to be anywhere near it. 

Everyone was loaded onto a truck, packed like a can of sardines and taken to the rendezvous point—one of the houses on the other side of town. By the time everyone had cleared the estates, the gates were left open, purposefully. The walkers poured in, death and decay taking over this once prosperous neighborhood. 

Everyone was far away when the music stopped, time suspended for what seemed like years, but it was only a few moments. Finally, a huge burst of flames, followed by waves upon waves of explosions dotting the estates, each triggering another until the whole district was bubbling with bright orange. 

Beneath the ground, the sewers were opening up, splitting the dirt to suck in hundreds of burning walkers, like Hell was opening up and taking back its creatures. When the first bursts of the explosions died down, the charred remains of the estates were filled with burning trees and the last of the walkers that could still walk as their rotten flesh burnt off their bones. 

From what you could see, the herd was eradicated. Still, you weren’t sure it was cause for celebration. The estates were destroyed, along with dozens of homes that could’ve housed the poor and the sick. Whatever food and resources those buildings had were reduced to smithereens before your very eyes. Not only that, but who knows how many people had died during the swarm? 

You didn’t share that sentiment with most of the others, though. 

Yumiko invited everyone from Alexandria to her house in the wee hours of the morning. For your part, you fell asleep on her couch, not knowing when you awoke that a grand feast was waiting for you in the afternoon.

It was Daryl’s hand that gently rocked your shoulder. “Come get somethin’ to eat,” he said, and you swore you were in a dream. 

The dining room was immaculate, with a meal of epic proportions splayed over the table, with more to spare on the kitchen counters, where so many familiar faces gathered around to serve themselves. You blinked hard, shaking your head as you looked towards your husband. “Am I awake?”

“Yeah,” he said, and you knew it must’ve been real—you could feel his hand pressed upon your lower back, then his lips grazing your cheek. “I’ll make ya a plate. Sit down.”

Despite its clear reality, you couldn’t escape the strange warm glow all around you. It felt like you were dead. Well, in Heaven, maybe. But you weren’t, you knew you weren’t. You were alive, but something felt too good to be true. Something was off. 

Across the dining room table, you felt Rosita’s eyes on you. She leaned closer, pointing her finger at your sling. “You all right?”

“Mhm.” Tentatively, you took a sip of red wine. It was the first you’d tasted of it in ages. Nine months pregnant, plus several more in which wine was the least important thing you could consume, so you didn’t. It felt strange to drink it now, but why not? Everything else felt so strange, anyway. “Are you?”

She rocked uncomfortably in her chair, but flashed a smile regardless. “Of course.”

Something was wrong. 

“Rosita—”

Maggie’s hand startled you as she touched your shoulder. Her green eyes widened as she let out a laugh. Were you the only one not happy?

As she sat beside you, she eagerly unfolded her napkin, then helped herself to a serving of mashed potatoes. How did anyone have the energy to prepare this meal? Nothing seemed right. 

“You were asleep for so long,” remarked Maggie. “I was worried you wouldn’t wake up.”

“Feels like I didn’t.” You were caught between reality and a dream. 

Daryl’s heavy presence loomed over you. He placed your plate in front of you—it was overflowing with ham and gravy and biscuits and salad and grapes… He’d given you far too much food for one person to eat. Still, you knew you would eat all of it with how hungry you were. 

“Thank you.” He shocked you for a moment, bending over to kiss the corner of your mouth. You looked at him suspiciously. “Am I in the Twilight Zone?”

“Eat your food,” he scoffed playfully. “‘Fore it gets cold.”

With a belly full of food, soon it became clear to you that there was no harm in celebrating what merriment there was for the time being. Pamela was imprisoned, the walkers were slain, the people were free. 

It was a beautiful dinner, the warm glow of the candles spread all over the table illuminating so many smiling faces. The world had changed so much since last night—darkness had given into light, and with the new day came a new era. It was on everyone’s breath. The cleansing fire had come again, as it had come so many times before. 

It was nothing new, you’d seen it before, so many, many times. 

Atlanta, the quarry, the CDC, the farm, the prison, the Kingdom, the Hilltop… As worlds ended, new ones were born. Even those worlds hadn’t really ever ended, you figured. It wasn’t even really a matter of things ending or beginning when it came down to it, it was a matter of continuing on, keeping those memories alive for as long as you could. That was the trick.

That was the celebration. A new beginning, once again. As many times as you’d felt it, you’d never get tired of that feeling. Hope, that’s exactly what it was. Hope for the future, for the world to become whole again.

The mission wasn’t over, you all knew that. The world was still broken, crumbling all around you, but there were pockets of wholeness, moments wherein everything became so perfect that it was hard to believe it was real. But it was real, and they were real. Your family was real. 

And yet, you couldn’t shake this feeling, as though the vibrant images that projected all around you were just figments of your imagination, like any second now you’d wake up and it would all have been some strange, long dream.

Maybe you’d awaken, having never met a man named Daryl, having never had his children. That was the worst thing you could imagine, so you willed it away from your mind as quickly as it came.

Instead, you dozed off for a while, thinking of all the voices you couldn’t hear amidst the celebrations. Strangely, you found yourself picturing a world in which your father could see all this. You hadn’t thought of him in so long, but a sudden wave of memory lost to time came flooding in.

The memory wasn’t one that had ever existed, at least, not in this lifetime. It was an image of a dinner much like this, but with everyone you’d come to know and love.

Rick, Michonne, Glenn, Beverly, Dale, Tara, Andrea, Tyreese, Beth… All the ones you lost were surrounded by some glowing aura, like they were angels. They were so bright and beautiful that you nearly squinted just to make our their features.

Your father, though, you saw particularly clearly. In your vision, he’d sit right across the table from Daryl. He’d know the happiness you had found with him, the true and innocent love he gave you. You knew above all else that he would’ve loved Daryl, too. He would’ve seen him as another son, and a great man.

In his lap would sit baby Westley, watching in fascination as his grandfather played peek-a-boo with the child, much to his wonder.

Robin would sit near him, too, laughing at one of Dale’s silly jokes. He’d impart some important lesson to her, and she’d listen closely, eager to learn from the wise man.

Aaron would pour a glass of wine for Eric, his one true love. You were sure your father would look on proudly, happy to know that Aaron was living the life he wanted with the man he loved.

Perhaps Rick would raise a toast, it seemed like the kind of thing he would’ve done. “To family,” he might say. “To hope, and to the future.”

Glenn and Maggie would laugh together like they used to. They’d have a hard time letting go of each other’s hands. You recalled they used to hold on until the last possible second.

Sophia and Carl would be so much bigger now. You’d hardly be able to recognize Sophia, but what a beautiful young woman she would’ve become. You’d reminisce with them about the times at the quarry, and how little they seemed in such a big, scary world.

As much as you hated to invite him to your perfect little tableau, you turned to look at Daryl, and you saw an inkling of Merle in that smirk he gave you. It had Daryl’s gentleness, but Merle was in him, too. You liked to think that, if he had lived to see this day, he’d have changed. Maybe he’d see the ignorance of his ways, and maybe, by some miracle, he’d be a good uncle to your children. Well, thank goodness it was just in your imagination.

“Hon?” Daryl’s raspy whisper made those faces disappear, but their essence still lingered. His warm hand laid tentatively over yours, until he gently squeezed it to get your attention. “You all right?”

“Yes,” you said with a smile. He felt some relief wash over him. For a second there, he worried you had already gotten tipsy from the wine. You were always a lightweight, but then again, you were terribly amusing when you were drunk. He would know. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

His lips eased into a small smile. As his cheeks lifted, you admired his face, how beautifully sculpted it had been. Every detail, from the bags under his eyes to the slight slope of his nose, was your favorite—you couldn’t decide on just one. And his skin was so clear, so soft. The wine must’ve been getting to him a little, as you could see a glowing rosiness in his warm cheeks.

Though his black eye had only darkened, you still swooped his hair back, allowing you to see every perfect inch of him.

The fact that you were admiring him through hazy bedroom eyes did not go unnoticed.

“What’re ya thinkin’ about?”

Naughty things, mister Dixon.

“How happy I am,” you replied, opting for an innocent conversation instead.

His hand squeezed yours a little tighter. In this lighting, with the gold-tinted hue of the candles playing off your features, he couldn’t take his eyes off you if his life depended on it, and thank goodness it didn’t.

“Are you happy, Daryl?”

For the last eleven years, he’d been able to say yes. Why would that change today?

“Yeah. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, since you came along.”

He wished he had the more complex words to describe the way you made him feel, but simple platitudes spoken by many lovers before and many lovers after would have to do.

“I’d like it to stay like this forever,” you said. “Just frozen in time. I don’t ever want to forget this feeling.”

“You don’t have to… We keep it alive, you and me. Long as we live, and after.”

“And the people,” you added. “The people we lost, they’re still alive, right? We keep the fire burning for them.”

“That’s right, angel.”

Despite the euphoria you felt come over you, there was still that inkling of looming devastation floating around the room. It didn’t show itself immediately, but gradually, as the heady afternoon blended into the clarifying evening, your suspicions of impending tragedy proved to be correct.

Rosita shared the news, that horrible news you’d been dreading since she looked at you that way. You didn’t process it at first, it just sort of… sat there. She’d hid it so well all this time. The bite on her back was completely covered by her shirt and her hair, but nothing could hide the fact that the fever was coming, worsening and becoming stronger with each passing moment. Time was running out for her, and it felt so wrong.

In the bedroom where she laid, each and every one of you was given the unspoken opportunity to say goodbye. It was a beautiful room, perfect for Rosita. The walls were a pale blush color, with lovely pink roses in a vase by the door. Roses for Rosita, you thought, smiling through your tears as you sat upon the chair by her bed. 

She reached for your hand, and you took it with a gentle shake. Beside her was Coco, napping upon a bed of pillows. She was older than Wes, of course, but you couldn’t help but see her and wonder if one day the two of them would be friends. You hoped so. 

“Hey,” she said, her eyes struggling to keep open. She looked paler than usual, and you could tell by the redness under her eyes that the illness was taking its effect. It felt so cruel, so unfair. She had so much life left in her, and for it to be cut short so suddenly was nothing short of a tragedy. 

“Hi.” Even a single syllable word was not immune to your tears. Your voice cracked and faltered as you wiped your nose with your free hand. What were you supposed to say? There was so much to say to her. She was your friend. “I—I, um…” You shook your head, trying to compose yourself. “Rosita, nothing’s going to be the same without you.”

She smiled. “You’re going to be fine. You’re brave.”

You laughed at that. It seemed like just yesterday Rosita had called you weak. Now, it was just a humorous memory. “You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever known.”

It was evident in the way it happened. She’d been bit saving Coco, her child. That, indeed, was the greatest act of bravery. “Will you… watch over Coco for me?”

You were choked up at this point, hardly able to speak without bursting. “I will,” you said with a fervent nod. “Of course. Always.”

“And, if you can,” she faltered a little, her eyes becoming hazy. You could tell she was on her way out, her voice having trouble coming through. “Tell Robin… about how badass we were, you and me.”

Your eyes widened a little. Of course, Rosita was “badass,” but you weren’t so sure that you were. “I sure will,” you snorted. “I’ll tell her all those stories.”

“I wish I could see her grow up…. Her and Coco, and Wes, too… All of them.”

“Hey,” you said, leaning forward to hug her. She was burning hot, so hot she was cold. “I’ll be your eyes and ears, okay? Everything I see, you’re gonna see it, too.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

It was so hard to say goodbye. 

That night, you closed your eyes to sleep, held tight by the same pair of strong arms that were made for you. They kept you safe, sheltered, but your mind still wandered.

You found yourself at that dinner table again, surrounded by all those you loved, and those you lost. Rosita was shining bright now. She held her baby in her arms. She looked like the Virgin Mary.

Her soothing face didn’t haunt you, it lulled you to a peaceful sleep. The death she’d been given was beautiful. You could only hope that someday, you’d die with your greatest loves beside you, and you’d see them again in some crazy woman’s vision.

~

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Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

[teaspoon-full-of-sugar]

lesson

pairing: harry styles x reader

warnings: smut, masterbation, daddy mentions, heavy degradation and humiliation (lots of sluts and whores) but also some good girls !! teasing (so much teasing), orgasm denial/edging, choking, bondage, cum play (so also unprotected sex), pussy play (including spanks and cock thumping), pillow humping (for like a second), spitting, panty fucking, harry has a very dirty mind, please, only 18+ !!

word count: 6.4k

synopsis: he only has one rule, and she still can’t seem to follow it (or in which harry teaches y/n a lesson)

author’s note: hello! this took a little longer than i expected, so thank you for being patient with me! this is absolute, pure, unadulterated filth (absolutely no fluffiness about this—be proud for me) please, note the warnings and don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with anything mentioned above (that’s why i put them there :)) xx

masterlist

—

Y/N’s heart races in her ears as she scrubs at her hands, foamy soap slipping down her wrists in her haste. Harry calls for her downstairs, the front door slamming shut, shaking the house. She can’t find her voice just yet, traces of a stolen orgasm lingering in her tired body. The sheets are crumpled from her quick highs, and her legs are weak. She feels giddy, despite the odd numbness that seeps into her bones. She finally feels fulfilled after a long day of insatiable throbbing between her legs.

Clad in a simple tee and underwear, she steps out of their bathroom when he finally gets up to their bedroom. She dries her hands off, eucalyptus, mint, and other artificial scents lingering. She’s still catching her breath.

“Hey, babe,” she smiles, just like she does every time he gets back home, but there’s something behind it that’s unfamiliar, a devilish hint.

It’s her eyes that give her away.

They’ve been together long enough for him to know what she looks like after she comes, her shaky legs, dopey smile, and glazed over eyes. The mischievous glint is different, however.

“How was your—”

“How many times?”

“What?” She tilts her head to the side, brows furrowed innocently. It angers him; it actually makes his chest tight, and he has to bite his cheek to keep from snapping. She has the nerve to act as if nothing is wrong. Lip tucked between teeth, she steps forward, hands splayed in front of her. An unfamiliar feeling bubbles in his stomach. Not quite possessiveness but certainly close, this feeling is akin to lust and indignation, and it melts into a pool of gluttonous desire.

Normally, he takes a step back to collect his thoughts when he’s this emotionally invested, but it’s difficult when she looks so tempting, so divine, so satisfied. Fresh faced with a cheeky grin, she beckons him, imploring him to punish her, challenging him to ruin her.

He stalks forward, their gazes never faltering, until she falls onto the bed, still looking at him innocently.

“How many times did you make yourself come?”

His words bite, but she looks indifferent, the glazed look in her eyes taunting him. She doesn’t answer, but then again, she knows that she doesn’t need to. He cups her throat, so tender, pliable, and exposed, and he can feel her swallow thickly.

“I’ll ask again. How many times?”

She stares at him, jaw set and ready to hold her own. It’s different from her usual demeanor. No matter how bratty she would act, she easily fell into her submissive headspace, answering his questions obediently and listening to him eagerly. She doesn’t seem to want to break that easily today. Instead of her usual shy and shameful glaces at her hands, she sits up fully, looking him dead in the eyes, and grins, a twisted little smirk that makes his stomach curl and his cock grow thick. She wants to play a game, but it seems that she has forgotten that he is the one in charge. His fingers tighten around her throat, pressing into the spots beneath her jaw that leave her vision hazy.

“Only once,” she says sweetly, albeit weakly from her grip on her neck.

Lies.

He knows that.

She knows that he knows that, but maybe a part of her just wants him to piss him off.

“Don’t you dare lie to me,” he snaps. “How many times?”

His patience is wearing thin, and this game, this teasing, is getting out of hand. She thinks that she can have an advantage over him, while still playing the submissive. Someone needs to put her in her place.

“Almost three times,” she admits finally, sinking back. He finally lets go of her neck, and she holds the spot where his hand once was, vexing eyes yearning for his touch. He cocks a brow.

“Almost? Did I interrupt the third?”

“Yes,” she whines. That’s when he notices her thighs pressing tight together, and she shifts on the bed.

“Does daddy not please you, babylove? You need to touch your princess parts because daddy doesn’t make you feel good anymore.”

Filled with hurt, his words seem to get to her. The familiar docile look in her eyes slips in, and her lips sink into a pout. She’s drinking from the palm of his hand.

“Maybe I just shouldn’t touch you anymore—”

“No,” she cries, sinking further into her headspace. “But—daddy, you left this morning,” she says, her lips pouting.

That’s true.

The night before, she was his soft babylove, who just wanted to be as close to him as possible, be held and comforted and loved. That’s how he awoke this morning: warm with his cock soft inside her. He kissed her awake, as she deserved, and even though he felt comfortable simply being wrapped in her warmth, he needed to taste her. He was slow with his movements, languidly licking along her lips until wetness coated her thighs, teasingly sucking on her clit until she was trembling, wanting to build up the pleasure.

Admittedly, he had to rush out before she could finish and go to a meeting regarding his upcoming tour. He had quite the time trying to hide his semi for the better part of the morning.

“And I was feeling achy,” she continues rambling; the poor thing is close to tears. He feels for his pretty girl, he truly does, but he pushes that aside. A part of him feels hurt, like she couldn’t trust him to take care of her when he came home. Harry doesn’t ask much. She can be as bratty as she wants to, purposefully teasing him when they’re in public or refusing to do the simplest of requests, but he just asks that she let him take care of her.

She couldn’t even give him that courtesy.

“Don’t make excuses,” he scoffs. “I thought you were a big girl.”

“I am,” she promises.

“Big girls wait for daddy to come home and help them come,” he says, stroking her cheek. Tender touches mask his true intent. He suddenly shoves her back, hand tight to her throat once again, and she gasps, head tilting back into their pillows.

“Naughty girls touch themselves. Whores come almost three times at their own hand.” He grits his teeth. “Are you a whore?”

She doesn’t answer, but he can feel her heart racing beneath his grasp. A glimpse of a smile is enough to let him know that she’s fine; she’s enjoying herself, seeing him so riled up, possessive, and ravenous.

“Are you still wet? Achy?”

She nods.

“Whores get wet when they’re in trouble,” he says offhandedly. Her body quivers at the malice dripping from his tongue. “Arms up.”

She does as told, holding onto the headboard, eagerly awaiting his next demand. This is what she wanted, after all.

She has no idea what’s coming.

Usually, whatever punishment he gives her is what she also enjoys, from the occasional spanking to overstimulation. He usually has her coming until she can’t take anymore, until an ache seeps into the bliss.

Not this time.

He tugs her shirt up and over her head while his other hand fiddles in their bedside drawer. Moments later, a pair of silk scarves tie her hands to the headboard.

“Not too tight?”

She tugs on the restraints and shakes her head.

“Color?”

“Green.” She beams, breaking character for a moment.

Even if they were in the midst of a deep fantasy, he has always made a point to make sure she knows that it's alright to voice any discomfort and vice-versa; she often asks for his color whenever he seems to be overwhelmed. They both know how volatile headspaces can be, with the slightest changes making a huge difference in the experience.

He runs his nose along hers, lips tracing along the curves of her face, nibbling teasingly at her chin, down her neck, and grinds himself against her. He sucks on her breasts, biting at her nipples until they’re peaked. She closes her eyes, savoring every spike of bitter pleasure he has to offer. He sits back after a moment, appreciating the glimpse of light that catches her wet skin. He palms himself.

“It’s only fair that I get to come three times since you did. Make us even, right, lovie?”

“But I only made myself come twice.”

Y/N really has the nerve to talk back to him with her hands tied to the headboard, her body exposed to him, the only thing covering her modesty a flimsy pair of underwear. He cocks his head to the side.

“Should we make it four?”

That makes her hesitate, sinking back in the sheets. She shakes her head, cute pouty lips puckering. He would love nothing more than to run his cock along that pretty, dirty mouth, to feel her greedy tongue tracing the underside of him lazily, to wrap his hand around her throat and feel it expand as he fucks her face.

But he knows that she would enjoy it too much.

Too much for a punishment.

Harry traces along the curves of her features, from the slope of her nose to the round of her cheek, soft and lingering, a harsh contrast of what’s to come. He smirks. She parts her lips like a good girl when his thumb passes over them, biting it teasingly. He, then, drags it down her chin, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake.

He can’t help but think about how pretty she would look with cum and spit dribbling from those sinful lips, eyes barely able to stay open. Fucked beyond belief, she would moan his name and other incoherent thoughts oh-so sweetly, her voice wrecked. His grateful babylove, his lovely, satiated Y/N would whisper a soft thank you after taking him so well. He truly wishes he could do that, give her anything she ever desired, make her feel euphoria like never before, a high no one other than him can give her, but she was greedy and naughty and misbehaving.

And she needs to learn a lesson.

Now, he has to tease her, to bring her to the brink of orgasm, only to shatter her, again and again, until she’s on the brink of tears. She’s going to be left unsatisfied, trembling beneath him, while he brings himself to orgasm, again and again, until he’s milked himself dry. She will be grateful if he gives her even a bit of pleasure, but it is not enough to push her to the end.

It would never be enough.

He leans in close, his lips a fleeting embrace, just past her reach. He wants to taste her, but he needs to be patient.

A warmth buries her, and his overwhelmingly familiar scent swallows her, safe and comforting. She doesn’t know she’s even pulling on her restraints until her fingers are numb and tingly, yearning to feel his skin.

Maybe this was a bad idea, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“You can beg and plead all you want,” he says, “but know this: you will not be coming again tonight.”

Her eyes darken, and a satisfied little grin graces her pretty face.

She got what she wanted, tied up and vulnerable to him.

However, this isn’t her game anymore.

Now, she’s at his utter mercy.

“And if you do come, somehow, I will not touch you for a week; not only will you not feel my cock, my fingers, or my tongue, there will be no kisses or cuddles. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s my good girl.”

He unbuttons his shirt, slowly, diligently, his fingers lingering a little long on his inked stomach, knowing that she likes to take her time and admire that part specifically. After he peels the button up away, he finally sits next to her on the bed, his back to her. His belt falls to the floor with a clatter, and she holds her breath.

The silence is deafening, thick with tension. She waits, knowing that patience will help her. She also knows better than to say anything, since it would probably worsen her current predicament. Harry has always been level-headed, even in his dominant headspace, being very patient, especially in trying circumstances. He can take a lot before he snaps. She usually has to beg him to slap her, to spit in her mouth, or to fuck her so hard her legs give out.

This new persona is unpredictable, new, and alluring.

It’s different and all the more arousing.

She shifts, the bed frame creaking. A feeling of naughtiness courses through her, as it did earlier. She wants to see how much she can get away with and how far she can go before he loses control and puts her in her place. She watches him closely, her breathing ragged. She drags a pillow up by her feet, and Harry pays her no mind, perhaps assuming she’s just getting comfortable. His shoulders shift as he nimbly undoes the buttons to his pants, his back muscles tightening and relaxing. He begins taking off his pants, billowy and undoubtedly expensive fabric slipping down one leg at a time slowly, meticulously. The pillow now nestled between her legs, she grinds her hips down, wishing it was his thigh, the one with tiger on it, bared teeth and hungry.

He turns suddenly, and she’s caught yet again, but she doesn’t stop. Instead, she works herself harder, imploring him to stop her—to punish her. The pillow does very little to satiate the pent up tension between her legs, but it’s better than nothing.

Honestly, she knew he was going to catch her in her lies. That's why she made herself come right before he got home. She wants to get caught, the thrill of going against his rules giving her a high she’s still coming down from. And as he looks at her again, fury in his eyes, she could just fall apart. She wants him to put her in her place, punish her for being a naughty, filthy brat.

She wants him to ruin her.

“No,” he growls, ripping the pillow away and effectively knocking her legs back apart. He slaps her pussy with little warning. She squeaks, tugging at the silken restraints. A shaky, guttural moan shutters from her chest, deep and desperate, and her head falls back into the mattress.

“Fuck,” she cries.

The skin of her swollen pussy burns in the most addicting way, leaving her legs spasming, feet slipping down the sheets. She can feel his rings through her panties, just a slight sting, but her clit takes a brunt of the force, and perhaps, that’s what makes it so good.

“No moving.”

He rubs her soothingly, a stark contrast to the fire behind his eyes. Despite how bratty she’s been, her sweet, attentive Harry is still there, making sure she’s taken care of, comfortable, and safe. Her needy hips chase his fingers, a broken plea on the tip of her tongue.

Again.

He twists her panties with his index finger until her puffy pussy swallows them, the swell of her mound bulging from the tight elastic bands. He smacks her again, a little more gentle this time, but hard enough to still make her toes curl. She laughs through a breathy moan, her heart racing. He tsks, mumbling under his breath.

“This is your punishment. You’re not supposed to be enjoying it.” He tugs her panties up tight to her clit. “You’ll take anything I give you. Won’t you? I could spit on you and call you a bitch, and you’ll say thank you. Right, babylove?”

He delivers another resounding slap to her cunt, and then, another for good measure. This time, her back arches from the mattress, eyes rolling back. Fire licks her skin, and it hurts, no doubt, but in such a way that's indescribable; it burns, but it spreads throughout her whole body, and it makes her limbs tingly and warm, yearning for more. Again, he runs his hand along her exposed mound to ease the ache.

“Thank you,” she moans, and he smiles. He spanks her poor pussy raw, again and again, until his hand hurts and her arousal drips onto the sheets. Her thighs threaten to close, but she digs her feet into the mattress, aching for more pain, more pleasure, just more. Her world spins, but at the center of it all is him—striking eyes, teasing smile, and pretty lips—and he’s all hers.

“Taking it so well, pretty girl,” he says, moving to kneel between her spread legs. He can feel the wetness through her panties, and he nudges his head around where her clit is, still blocked by her useless underwear, her pussy visibly tightens with anticipation. He leans back, still close enough to feel the heat from her, and he slips his cock under her panties, the tight, elastic band pulling at his tender skin while her lips massage the underside. She’s wet, perhaps from her orgasms from earlier, but likely from the spanking. He thrusts, wrapped in soaked panties, until the tip of his cock nudges the fabric at the top of her mound, and he twitches when the underwear pulls at the sensitive head in a certain way.

“Such a naughty girl,” he moans, thumbs pulling at the fabric to wrap tighter around his cock. “I’m only fucking your panties, and you’re already soaked.”

He pulls out reluctantly, his cock heavy on her wet underwear. He spits on the fabric and spreads it over her mound, just to tease her little more. She tugs at her restraints and whines from the sudden cold.

A drop of saliva slips past his puckered lips, landing on his open palm, which now cradles his cock. He hasn’t resorted to jerking himself off in a long time; he hasn’t needed to, but he works himself easily, finding a calculated rhythm, fast then slow, quick, eager strokes along the head then long, languid strokes along the entire length. He sits on his heels, and his legs ache from the weight. Her thighs twitch, and she pulls at the restraints. His balls brush against her mound with every movement of his hand, and he swears he can feel her jump with every movement, so sensitive, so responsive. He fucks his fist, hips unconsciously bucking, wishing it is her warmth that coats him, squeezes him, and pulls him in. He yearns to touch her, to feel her smooth skin, but he knows that this lack of physical touch is as difficult for her to bear as it is for him, and that makes it a little better.

Her chest heaves with unsteady breaths, eyes fixated on his hand working his cock. She pulls futilely at the scarves, until her wrists hurt. She knows that she’s not going to be able to get out, but she unconsciously reaches for him. She’s not used to being so exposed, body vulnerable to his gaze, without having him touch her. Sure, their thighs are pressed tight together, but it’s not nearly enough.

This isn’t what she thought was going to happen when she broke his rules. Truly, more so than usual, this is a punishment: to see him work himself to orgasm without being able to touch him. She wishes she was the one to make him squirm, moan, and come.

“Please,” she whines, eyes pleading with him, and he knows what she’s begging for.

“What? You think I want to touch a dirty little brat like you?”

“You’re being mean.”

“I’m being mean? I came home, hoping to spend a nice evening with my good girl, only to find out that she broke my rule,” he says. “My one rule.”

He wishes it was her hand stroking him, eager eyes and tempting smile staring back at him. It would feel so much better than his own calloused fist. He feels himself tighten to signal an impending end, weak but an end nonetheless.

“I wanted nothing more than to come home and to have you come on my tongue more times than you can count, but you couldn’t be patient, and now, you have to take your punishment.”

She twists and squirms beneath him, her body undulating on the sheets. The need that tugs on her features is almost enough to break him, to make him give in and make his pretty girl come on his face, but then he remembers that scheming smile she had on her face, that devious look that made him rife with lust. He remembers that she was on this very bed by herself just before he got home, making herself come, her head thrown back, whining and whimpering. The thought brings the fire back.

He cups her cheek and leans forward, stretching her legs apart, and his cock rests just above her belly button, still cupped in his hand. Her tongue dips out of her mouth. His eager, naughty girl waits for him to spit in her mouth, to shove his ringed fingers down her throat, to do anything, but he pulls back again, and she frowns.

“How did you do it? Did you use your fingers, baby?”

She nods pitifully, and he hums, his strokes quick.

“Yeah? Bet they weren’t as good as mine.” He runs his thumb along the head, pleasure sending chills down his spine, trying to prolong his buildup.

“No one’s fingers will ever be as good as mine.”

He wants to prove it to her, to pound his fingers inside her until she can barely breathe, arousal gushing down his wrist as she comes until she’s crying. He wants to kiss her tears away as she begs for more. Perhaps, with all the teasing and build-up, he could get her to come with just one finger with one well-placed thrust. Her hips buck, and he knows that she’s thinking about that, too. After the stolen orgasm from earlier and the burning spanks her poor pussy received, she must be desperate for anything he’ll give to her.

His orgasm builds quickly, with his thoughts running amuck, visions of her, on her knees before him, choking on him until tears stream down her cheeks, on her back, moaning while he pounds into her, on top of him, grinding down on him, not letting up because she just loves the feeling of him deep inside her belly.

He comes on her tummy, a broken moan slipping past his bitten lips, spurts of his seed stain her pretty skin, and her breath hitches, shocked at the sudden warmth; then, she hums contentedly.

“There,” he sighs, admiring his work.

“Thought you were gonna come three times,” she says softly as he steps off the bed, sore cock heavy between his legs. His knees tremble.

“Open,” he coos, slipping his fingers in her mouth, and she sucks away the remnants of his orgasm. He smooths out her brow with his free hand, brushing away a bead of sweat that sunk from her hairline.

“Who said I’m done with you? No, I’m gonna go shower, and you’re going to stay there with my cum on your tummy and think about what you’ve done.”

He kisses her nose, just like he does every morning after loving on her. It’s a sweet gesture, one that doesn’t match his demeanor. He leaves her there, like he said he would, tied up as he moves to the bathroom, shoulders pushed back, self-assured and composed. Harry steps into the steaming shower, washing away the sweat from his skin.

Y/N whimpers in the next room. She has given up on tugging at the silk scarves; instead, she’s trying to ignore the insatiable throbbing between her legs, her arousal slipping out onto her thighs, like a greedy slut. His words ring in her ears, and it makes the arousal worsen.

She rubs her thighs together to alleviate some pressure, but it’s little use. Perhaps, if she tests him just a little more, he’ll throw away all willpower and ravish her until the early morning hours, but her resolve weakens with every passing minute. She wanted to tease him a bit, maybe get him a little mad, so he would put her in her place. She wanted him to fuck her to oblivion, until she can’t keep her eyes open.

This is a different kind of punishment, one she’s never even considered. In her fantasies, she’s tied up and vulnerable, but he lavishes her with touch until she’s overstimulated, drunk on him, his scent, his touch, his voice.

This is a different kind of punishment, a true punishment in her eyes. The teasing, lingering touches is enough to make her burst, and to have him there but just beyond her reach is near painful.

His cum has nearly dried on her belly, and she wishes he came inside her, stuffed full of his warmth; at least, then, she wouldn’t be so cold, so exposed.

She perks when he steps out of the bathroom, and he wastes no time straddling her hips, his cock twitching against her tummy. The weight of his body on hers is suffocating, her overstimulated senses taking him in, his warmth, his touch, his scent. She can feel every ridge of his body, every drop of water that slips from his clean skin, everything.

It’s almost too much all at once.

“Color?”

She blinks.

“Daddy, please,” she whispers, “want you to fill me up. ‘M such a greedy cock slut. I won’t even come, promise—”

“Y/N, I need you to tell me what color,” he says.

He doesn’t usually use her name when they’re this far into the fantasy, but it seems she needs it now.

“Green,” she breathes out. “Green, green, you feel so good, H. ‘M sorry I touched myself; I just couldn’t help it. Wanna make you feel good, please.”

“I wanna believe you, baby.” He cups her cheek, cold water dripping from his hair and melting into her skin. He takes her in, relishing in the sight of her craving, trembling, and begging for his touch. He likes seeing her on edge like this, dangerously close to teetering off into oblivion.

“But I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet.”

He traces the head of his red cock along the seams of her panties, like he did earlier, but this time, he tugs her underwear aside, mouth watering at the sight of her pretty, puffy pussy, surely sore from the spanking earlier. He spits on her, and he watches as it slips down into her most intimate fold. She’s so responsive to the slightest touch. He spreads her open, lips parted to reveal her wanton pussy. He tugs back the hood of her button, hard and throbbing.

He slaps his cock against her clit, the skin tacky with his spit. The slight, sudden touch is electrifying, and it makes his cock twitch, hungry for more. He can see her tighten up, and her hips jolt. Shivers trail from her spine to the tips of her peaked nipples. He thumps the head of his cock on her clit quickly, concurrent with every keen thrust of her hips, spitting in her every so often, leaving her wet and swollen and filthy, just like she is.

“Thank you,” she whimpers. “Feels so good, daddy.”

He teases the head of his cock just past her lips and nestles himself inside her finally, her warmth swallowing him easily. His eyes flutter closed, savoring what he so desperately needed.

She breathes out sharply when he stops with just the head inside her. This teasing is almost becoming too much.

“More,” she whimpers, “Please?”

He looks at her with fire in his eyes.

“No, you don’t tell me what to do. Besides, I don’t think you deserve my cock.”

She could almost cry. He’s so close, but he won’t go any further, just teasing her with what could have been. She tries to pull him in deeper, her walls tightening around his head. It makes his toes curl, burning pleasure forming in his belly. She tries to pull him in, aching for just a little more. He holds her hips down to keep her from moving.

“Please, I’ve been good. I said I was sorry for making myself come. I’ll never do it again, promise. Please, I just wanna feel you, daddy. That’s all I wanted today.”

“This isn’t about you anymore, babylove. You’re just daddy’s little fucktoy, my little cock slut.” He thrusts slightly, the tender head dragging along her tight opening, never pushing further. “And right now, I wanna hear you cry for my cock.”

Her feet trail up his legs, knees hooked at his hips, frantically trying to pull him in entirely. She tried to be good; she asked him nicely to just fuck her already. At this point, she doesn’t even want to come. She just wants to feel him, to alleviate at least some of the pressure throbbing between her legs. It’s humiliating because she’s near tears, desperate for his cock.

He came not even fifteen minutes ago, and he’s still sensitive. He pulls back until the head is nestled just past her entrance, muscles tight around the tip. He jerks off the base of his cock for more stimulation. A part of the pleasure comes from watching her squirm; she’s so desperate as she yanks at her restraints, hips thrusting and pussy clenching to pull him in deeper. It’s such an odd sensation, her entrance being fairly sensitive, but it’s not enough to stimulate her.

It’s never enough.

“Maybe you’ll come just by the feeling of my cum inside you.”

She honestly might.

The skin of his cock drags back and forth along her sensitive walls as he jerks himself off inside her.

“I bet you will,” he grins. “Just remember, if you come, I will not touch you for a week. Be very careful, Y/N.”

She wiggles pitifully, her arousal dripping down his shaft, and he uses it as lubricant.

“I bet your poor little clit is throbbing,” he teases. “‘M so sorry, babylove.”

He’s not.

There’s a wicked smile that splits his face.

He pulls out suddenly, making her gasp, and thumps his cock some more on her pussy, landing a particularly rough blow to the sensitive part of her exposed clit, puffy with arousal, the hood stretched back.

“Please, daddy,” she whimpers, “more. I’ve been good. I won’t do it again.”

He gives her some more, dragging himself along her fold in languid motions, circling around her clit before he thumps his cock on her pretty little button. She squeaks.

He stuffs himself inside again, just like before with only the head inside her. She groans, tightening up. It’s as if her body has a mind of its own, clenched and frenzied for any type of stimulation. She squeezes him so tightly, and she fights against his hold on her hips.

He comes shortly after, his body curling into itself like it usually does when he has a particularly strong orgasm, back arching with every wave.

Y/N moans when his cum fills her, reaching deep inside her, and her walls clench with need. It’s barely anything, but it’s still more than what he was giving to her before, and she could honestly come from that little bit alone. She’s trying to regain her composure, cunt still throbbing. He kisses her face, like he usually does after he comes, a gentle reminder that he’s still her Harry. He massages her waist, lingering down to her hips. They bask in each others’ warmth, trying to find the energy to move.

That’s normal for him, sweet and mushy and loving.

What she doesn’t expect is him tightening his hold on her hips and thrusting himself fully inside her, his cock still weeping out remnants of his orgasm.

She would scream if she could, but the breath is knocked from her lungs, choked moans passing through clenched teeth. Animalistic and brutal, Harry sets a quick pace, her entire body moving with the power behind his thrusts. Her mind is blank, and her body hums, pleasurable vibrations coursing through her body to every single nerve. She forgets that she isn’t allowed to come, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about the consequences just yet. Finally, she can taste the bittersweet euphoria, making her world dizzy as he fills her again and again. She could almost cry with utter relief.

Yes, yes, this is what she wanted—no, needed—and it’s even better than she dreamt. Her sopping pussy takes him easily, reaching the neediest part of her. She spreads herself further, angling her knees to her chest so he can pound himself deeper inside, cream dripping onto the sheets. Her legs are sticky with their shared arousal.

Harry’s face is flushed, brows furrowed as he loses himself in the feel of her. It’s been almost as torturous for him as it has for her; he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this frantic, never has he felt so desperate to plunge himself into her depths, never has he been so entranced, so sensitive to any touch. His head tips back, features twisted, chest bared, and teeth gritted. His breaths are weak, faltering and shallow. He groans as she tightens around him. Sweat drips down his chest.

“H? Color?”

It takes a moment to pull him back.

“Green, baby,” he says, smiling ever so slightly.

He’s never felt this before, this vulnerable yet powerful, on the verge of pleasure and pain, dancing along a tightrope threatening to snap at any second, such a thrill. He feels light headed, high off of her. He wants to feel her, embrace her, love her.

He rips at the knots around her wrists, fingers trembling, but they won’t budge, and he loses his balance, instead wrapping his arms around her arched back. He nestles his nose in her neck, pulling their chests tight together. She smells of salt and sin and sex, and he can’t control himself.

“So fucking good.”

He presses himself deeper, the head of his sensitive cock nudging the inmost parts of her. He fucks her easily with his cum spilling out with every hard thrust, leaving their connected bodies sticky. He can’t pull out much without his cock weeping with overstimulation, but he can’t stop, the pleasure all too addicting.

“Jus’ one more, lovie,” he whispers. “So close. Don’t you dare come.” He grits his teeth, rubbing at her swollen clit, subtly and just to make it throb, before his hands rest on her lower belly, thumbs connecting just below the button. He fucks into her harder, the bed frame shaking and smacking into the wall.

That’s when realization hits her.

She’s close.

She’s so close, one well placed thrust, one harsh stroke to her clit will push her over the edge.

But she has to hold it off.

His words ring in her ears in time with her racing heart, his threat of no intimacy sobering her. If she thought before was punishment, having to see him pleasure himself without being able to touch him, this is hell. Her orgasm burns painfully in her belly. It tastes so sweet. She clings to the silk restraints. She doesn’t want to give in, but it would feel so good; it would be a high that would leave her lightheaded for hours afterward, and shockwaves of pleasure tightening her muscles as a constant reminder.

She sobs, on the brink of breaking. Her hands tingle, drained of blood. She’s trying to relax, to breathe through the waves of euphoria that crash over her, and it works for a second, but with that, she opens up more, taking him deeper and more easily. That’s when the pleasure would shatter the calm in harsh waves. She closes her eyes, a drawn hum seeping from her chest. He grabs the back of her neck, using it as leverage as he fucks himself deeper into her, and she cries out.

“Look at me,” he demands. She does, barely, her teary eyes glimmering. He smiles, and she feels warm. “There’s my pretty girl. I’m almost there, just a little bit more. Doing so well for me babylove. Don’t come.”

“Please,” she moans, peering through her lashes. “Come for me, daddy.”

She lights a fire in his veins, sending a rippling feeling of ecstasy through his spine. His eyes roll back as he comes once again, his prick pulsating as he empties himself deep inside for a third and final time. Satiated, he grinds his hips against her, wanting to be as close to her as possible. She’s throbbing around him, legs trembling at his sides. She sighs, most likely out of relief but perhaps also out of frustration. As he nestles himself deeper, her lips tremble, features pinching as she tries to hold off an orgasm, clenching so tightly that his softening cock slips out of her. She moans.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing his lips sweetly to her sticky forehead. “You did so well for me, babylove. So proud of you.” Then again to her cheek. He traces up the backs of her thighs, hooking her legs around his waist.

“What did we learn?”

“Don’t touch yourself unless daddy says so,” she whispers, her voice dry. He nods appreciatively, eyes taking in her trembling form, and leans back.

Her thighs twitch occasionally at his sides, and he wants to bite them, skin surely sensitive to the slightest of touches. Sweat and cum and saliva paint her flesh, but the absolute masterpiece is her ruined pussy, swollen and wet and divine. He thumbs at her, gently guiding her lips apart to expose her pink inside, quivering with an insatiable need. He wants to lick up the cum that slips out of her, but she’s been through enough, the aftershocks of her stolen orgasms still visibly lingering in her sore body.

Another time, perhaps.

“That’s right, babylove. I think you finally learned your lesson.”

—

[noteguk]

bad influence | jjk | m

— summary; in which you know Jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, car sex, dirty talk, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, jk has a big dick and an attitude, unprotected sex (condoms are your friends), jk being kind of a douche, use of the word “slut”, cum eating, creampie, cockwarming, possessiveness, he slaps her ass like once, enemies to fuckbuddies pretty much 

— words; 4.5k

— author’s note; I got carried away because I don’t know how to control myself!!! Also bad boy Jungkook is a fucking concept and I’m exhausted. Have fun. //  BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

You didn’t even know who you were trying to convince when you told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for Jungkook’s cheap charms anymore because, clearly, that wasn’t working. Every time you saw him, every dumb promise you made in front of the mirror came crumbling down, erasing your defenses along with it. 

That whole “falling for the bad boy” fiasco was really pathetic, and you knew that terribly well. You thought you had prepared yourself well enough to see through that mess of testosterone and leather jackets, of hollow smirks and messy dark hair. You knew better than to get involved with someone that didn’t take anything seriously and, worse, that mocked you for doing the opposite. 

You knew that Jeon Jungkook was nothing but trouble and, yet, you came crawling back to him every single time.  

“Fuck,” he moaned against your mouth, his eyes flickering shut at another roll of your hips. His voice was so deep, so rough, that you felt yourself clenching around nothing, a small whimper dripping from your lips as you pressed your panties against his bulge one more time. “You should wear skirts more often, you look like a sexy schoolgirl.”

You rolled your eyes, struggling to keep your balance on his lap. Straddling him on the driver seat of his car really wasn’t how you thought your night out would end, but it wasn’t all that surprising either. “I fucking hate you sometimes,” you spat.

Jungkook smirked, taking one of his large hands to the back of your head. “Only sometimes? I should try harder, then.”

You were left without a chance to respond because, within a second, he was pressing his lips against yours in a deep, sensual kiss. Jungkook always made out with you like he was about to lose you, like he was drowning and you were his last, desperate gush of air. Jungkook had been the only one who had ever kissed you like that, so messy, but yet so passionate; every curl of his tongue against yours making you melt in his embrace. You, of course, would never tell him how much you liked it, your pride would never allow you to do so.

His palm was firm and hot against your cheek, tilting your head slightly to the side so he could deepen the kiss. His other hand was tenderly placed on your hips, guiding them as you continued to grind against his clothed erection. The air inside his car was so heavy that you felt as if you couldn’t even breathe, only small whimpers echoing between your mouths at the gentle caresses of your clit against the fabric of his pants. 

But, as much as Jungkook was having fun, that grinding session was starting to annoy him a bit. He had been waiting to have you all night — going through the motions of boring bar conversations and brushing off the shameless flirting of other girls — and he wasn’t going to spend his sweet time just dry humping you like you two were horny teenagers. 

So, he took his shot as you raised your hips from his. Before you could move your body down once again, one of his hands traveled beneath the hem of your skirt, his nails pressing down on the skin of your thighs as he made his way towards your pussy. Jungkook had been daydreaming about your cunt wrapping around his cock for far too long then, and he needed to remind himself of how good that felt. 

“Fuck, babygirl, look at you… You’re soaked and I didn’t even touch you yet.” Jungkook smirked wickedly, his fingers faintly tracing its way up and down your clothed folds. You shivered at the contact, biting on your lip to avoid moaning out — he, of course, noticed that. He had quite the natural talent when it came to seeing what made you tick. “Why are you holding back, baby? Afraid that someone will hear you?” 

Your only response was a shaky breath from your nose, the words far too complicated to leave your mouth. Only Jungkook, in all of his great self, was able to make you such a mess so quickly, and you hated your body for being so reactive under his touches. It was the expectation, you noticed, the anticipation of knowing how well he fucked you, of knowing he was only taking his time before ruining you. 

Without hesitation, he pulled your panties to the side and placed two of his fingers between your pussy lips, barely brushing your entrance. Jungkook covered his digits with your wetness and moved them toward your clit, pressing them delicately on your sensitive nub. “I asked you a question, baby.” 

A bit overwhelmed, you breathed out, trying to keep yourself composed. It was almost impossible when it came to him. “Yeah, I don’t want people to know,” you admitted. 

He knew that, of course. It was a common worry amongst the two of you — especially when Jungkook had such a thing when it came to risky places to have sex in. Fucking you in his car, right outside the bar where you two had accidentally ran into each other, was far from being one of the most out-there situations he had created. 

“Hm? Know what?” He continued playing his self-indulgent game, pressing down on your clit. Your body jilted at the contact, mouth parting slightly and hands resting on his broad shoulders as he began slowly moving in circles over your sweet spot. “That pretty little ___ isn’t such a good girl, after all?” 

“J-Jungkook,” his name was a pathetic moan that died on your tongue, barely a whispered plea as he continued his advances on your clit. You had broken down so easy and so fast, you didn’t even remember you had once promised yourself that you would never come back to his bad boy shenanigans. 

But it was so, so hard to keep yourself away from him. You were only human, and Jungkook was this little demon ruining you just a bit more every time. 

“Are you worried that they’ll know that, beneath all those good grades, all those nights spent studying in your room, all that fucking charity work...” His fingers pressed harshly against your clit and your back arched, making you almost hit the steering wheel behind you. The thought of accidentally pressing down the horn made your blood run cold, and you forced yourself to lean back against his chest. “That under all that, you’re still a slut for my cock?” 

Your eyes fluttered shut, pleasure starting to climb up your spine as his voice guided you towards the past. All the times you snuck out during the night, all the times he fucked you raw after just bickering with you in front of your friends. All the times you told everyone that he was just a pile of trouble, and yet you begged for him to bury himself between your thighs until you were crying out his name. Really, it was difficult to find a bratty clapback when he was fucking you senseless, and Jungkook seemed to like that discovery just as much as you. 

And still, sometimes he didn’t like when you didn’t answer him. 

“You’re so shy all of a sudden…” he trailed off, taking one of his hands to pull up your crop top. He didn’t take it off, especially when he knew you’d freak out being topless in a public parking lot, he just needed to have better access to your bra. “You aren’t this quiet when you’re around other people, though. Always mocking me, being so mean…” 

“Don’t play the victim, you do the same to me,” you found the strength to respond, making Jungkook stop his motions on your clit right away. You sighed in frustration, your shoulders falling as you watched him lick his lips. “Why did you stop?”

“I’m waiting,” he said.

“For what?” 

“For an answer, baby.” He smirked. “You’re so mean. You always leave me hanging.” 

“That’s not true,” you said, taking your hands to his nape. There, you played with the strands of his hair, making him groan after a harsh pull. “What’s the question?” 

Jungkook hummed, taking his free hand to your bra and cupping one of your breasts — his other one was still paused, hovering over your clit like an unspoken promise. “Do people know?” He repeated, unclamping your bra with one swift motion and pushing it up along with your top. “Do they know how much of a dirty girl you are?” 

You swallowed hard and pushed your body against his fingers, trying to find some more friction. “I’m not,” you said, but could not believe your own words. “It’s just—“

The lie vanished the second that his lips found your nipple, his velvety tongue coming out to circle around it before he gave you a harsh suck. You pressed yourself closer to his mouth at the contact, and you could no longer hide the needy moan that escaped you — which seemed to satisfy Jungkook. 

“You’re not?” He spoke as he pulled away from your breast. Jungkook’s fingers slithered away from your clit and dove inside your pussy without further warning, making you cry out his name. No matter how many times you touched yourself, your fingers could never compare to his larger ones, making you stretch out so sweetly around them. “So why are you soaking my fingers like this? That’s so filthy, baby...” 

You clenched your teeth. “God, you’re so annoying.” 

“And you’re so wet,” this time, however, the mockery in his voice had faded a bit, giving space to a newfound wave of lust. As much as Jungkook loved to tease you, he was quite fast to break too — and the lewd sounds of your pussy were making him lose his mind. “Are you remembering all the times I fucked you before? All the times I pounded this tight pussy until you were crying? Begging for my cock?” 

God, you could feel as the heat started to spread down your body, guided by his words alone. When you spoke again, your voice wasn’t as firm as you expected. “J-Jungkook, that’s not…”

“Not what, baby?” He interrupted, tilting his head to the side. You hated how clothed he was, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to ride him like that — in that stupid leather jacket of his. “You didn’t like it?”

“I- I did.” It was getting hard to think when his thick fingers were pumping in and out of you so well. “I loved it.”

Those words left your throat before you could stop yourself, and your heart almost sank when you realized you had actually praised Jungkook, local douchebag, for something. You knew that he wouldn’t let that go anytime soon. “Loved being fucked like a good slut, right?” He asked, moving his fingers faster. You moaned especially loud when he started pushing them apart, scissoring you. 

“Yes,” you gasped, utterly defeated at that point. 

“Hmmm… so let me ask you again, and I expect a direct answer this time,” Jungkook said, leaning his head against the crook of your neck. His voice was a cloud of heat against your skin, vibrating up and down your body. “Do people know that you’re a slut for my cock?”

“No,” you finally responded, fingers digging on his hair. Your pleasure was increasing so fast that you knew it was just a matter of time before you were cumming around his fingers, like you had done so many times before. “Only you know, Jungkook.” 

That seemed to really satisfy him, because it was his turn to grunt against your flesh. The sound of his voice, so hoarse and guttural, made you clench around his fingers. “You’re getting so tight, baby.” He breathed out, unable to hide the desire that coated his words. Jungkook really needed to feel that delicious pussy of yours around his cock before he went insane. “Close?”

This time, your answer didn’t take long to come out. “Yes.”

“I have another question for you,” he started, and you would've rolled your eyes at him if you weren’t so awfully close to your high. “Do you wanna come on my cock or my fingers?”

“Both, please,” you moaned out and rolled your hips against his hand, dignity long forgotten. You wondered what your friends would say if they knew you were pleading for Jungkook, of all people, to make you cum. 

“Not both, you have to pick one.” Jungkook stopped his movements for the second time that night, and you couldn’t help cursing out at the absence of motion. You clenched around his fingers, making a sly smirk spread across his features. “I’m feeling especially greedy tonight.”

“Fuck you,” you said, taking a moment to organize your thoughts. As much as you really, really needed to cum, the idea of not having Jungkook’s dick inside you was much worse than waiting just a few more minutes to have it. “Your cock.”

He smiled and, for a moment, he almost looked innocent. Almost. “I thought so,” Jungkook teased, giving you one final pump of his fingers and watching as you bit your lip at the abrupt feeling. “I know you love it.” 

You scoffed. “You have such an attitude.” 

“Maybe,” Jungkook said as he removed his fingers from your pussy, watching how they shimmered, coated by your wetness. He looked up at you and took his hand towards your mouth. “Let me see you taste it,” he told you, tapping on your bottom lip. Obedient, you opened your mouth for him, allowing for his digits to slither inside. With a whimper, you sucked him like you would his cock, curling your tongue around him in a way that left Jungkook cursing out. “So fucking hot.” 

His eyes were focused on your mouth as he pulled his fingers away from it, swallowing dry at the “pop” sound it made when it left your lips. “Now,” he almost groaned, “let me taste it.” 

Jungkook crashed his mouth on yours, making you moan against his kiss once again. His tongue hungrily danced with yours, searching for your taste as his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you down against his aching member. You never wanted something as much as you wanted to feel him inside you right then, and Jungkook also didn’t want to wait any longer. 

He smirked against your mouth when he heard the sound of his zipper opening, your hands working fast to pull his pants down. “I told you that you love my cock.”

“God,” you complained, pulling at the hem of his pants. Jungkook raised his hips from the seat so you could slide them down, bringing his underwear along with it. “Do you ever stop talking?” 

“Only when you let me eat you out.” His cock had sprung free, resting against his abdomen as your hands moved to grab it. Again, another compliment that you would never give him, but Jungkook had one of the prettiest (and biggest) dicks you had ever seen; already so enlarged and red-tipped, leaking with pre-cum. Just looking at it made you horny, and it wasn’t long before you were taking it in your hand, giving it a few pumps before brushing your thumb over his crown, spreading his wetness all over it. “Fuck, that feels good.” 

The pleasure in his voice almost blinded you for a moment, making you forget what had been your intention in the first place. However, as you felt yourself clenching around nothing, you came back to your senses. 

“I wanna feel your warm little cunt around me, baby,” Jungkook breathed out, watching as your hand continued to pump him. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling especially nice tonight,” you told him, placing your thighs closer to his center. With a grunt of expectation, Jungkook’s eyes followed as you raised your skirt with one hand and guided his cock towards your heat with the other one. “Ready to make your schoolgirl fantasy come to life?” 

He opened his lips to respond, but his voice was lost the second that you pressed his tip against your opening, coating his cock with your warmness. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned, hands grabbing your ass as you sank down on him. 

“Oh, God,” you whined as you bottomed out, your walls pulsating around him as you got used to his size. No matter how many times he fucked you, you couldn’t get used to his large size and the amazing way he filled you up like no one else could. “Jungkook, you’re so big.” 

That was another comment that, unfortunately, you could not hold back. Because you hated yourself, that was why. “You can take it, baby,” he said, pressing down on your ass. “Be a good girl and take everything.” 

With his added force, you sank down until you had all of him inside you, practically sitting against his thighs by the time you were done. Taken away by the delicious feeling of his thick cock inside you, you started slowly setting a pace, moving up just so you could crash back down; the sound of skin on skin filling the still, muffled atmosphere of his car. 

“Shiiiiit, ____, you’re so tight.” He breathed out heavy, watching the way your bodies connected; the way his dick was coated by your wetness. “I can’t get used to it, it’s the best pussy I’ve ever had.” 

Now it was your time to be carried away by his compliments. It was stupid, but having Jungkook praise you (especially after he spent most of his days making fun of you) had you feeling over the moon. Before you could hold yourself back, you were already setting up a rhythm, bouncing up and down on him in a way that got him seeing stars; moaning in delight every time you rolled your hips on him. 

“Fuck, yeah, ride this cock,” Jungkook groaned, thowing his head back against the seat. His hair was a mess, falling over his eyes and gluing against his sweaty forehead; and yet he looked like sin incarnated as you fucked yourself onto him. Those saliva-coated lips, those furrowed eyebrows, and the deep, hungry gaze that he sent you way every time you sunk down on him would be the death of you. 

Jungkook breathed out as you started to pick up your pace, your hands pressing down on his shoulders as your ass bounced against his thighs. “Such a good slut,” he praised breathlessly, taking one of his hands to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes.  “Such a filthy little thing.” 

Pride forgotten, you knew what he wanted to hear. “O-only for you,” your words were a confusing mess of syllables, mind drunk on the feeling of his big cock pumping in and out of you. Only Jungkook could fill you up like that, only he could make you such a mess so quickly. 

“Oh, I know, baby.” His palm came down heavy against the globe of your ass, stinging your skin and making you cry out in an amazing mixture of pain and desire. You whimpered at the feeling that his slap left behind, your eyes dazed and unfocused as you looked down at the boy. “This pussy is all mine.” 

You called out his name as he started thrusting up, the force of his movements increasing your pleasure immensely. You loved when Jungkook started to get rough with you, when he started to use you like you were just a doll for him to seek his own high. 

He pulled on your hair, making your head tilt backwards and presenting him with a glorious view of your neck. Jungkook groaned against your flesh, his lips and tongue attacking your skin in a way that you knew would leave marks the following day — just the way he liked it. “I want to fuck you forever,” he moaned, “Wanna make this pussy so messy with my cum. Mark it as my own.”

“It’s yours, Jungkook,” you told him, lost in the buildup of your pleasure. “It’s all yours.”

He groaned, and the force of his hips snapping against yours only increased. Weak, you allowed your body to tumble against his strong chest, letting him use you the way he wanted it. 

“Such a tight and wet pussy for me,” he moaned out through clenched teeth. Jungkook looked almost animalistic then, only wanting to fuck you until his stamina ran out. “Say my name, baby.”

“J-Jungkook,” you gasped. 

“Louder,” he hissed, buckling his hips higher. The feeling of his cock thrusting upwards and reaching even deeper inside you got you seeing stars, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open. “I want everyone to hear it. Hear how good I make you feel, hear that this pussy is all mine.” 

Any other time, you would refuse to do something so absurd — but, at that moment, your mind was floating far away from that car, and all that you wanted was to be a good girl for him. “Jungkook!” you called his name louder, moaning out at you felt his cock throbbing inside you. 

“Again,” he rasped out, his jaw clenching. 

“Jungkook, fuck!” You almost yelled out, the world turning into nothing as you continued to fuck yourself on his cock. Moments like those were wonderful: all your problems went away, and you could only focus on the way he made you feel so deliciously full. 

“Ah, that’s it, shit,” he cursed out, member throbbing inside your pussy, “I’m gonna fucking cum.” 

You cried out at the thought, wanting nothing more than to see him cuming because of you. “C-Cum inside me, please.”

“Yeah, baby,” he said, his voice lost in pleasure. You could feel his desperation from the way his hips crashed against yours with much more force, hitting deep inside you. “Take everything.” 

His mind went blank when you clenched around his cock, wiping everything away from him but the delicious feeling of your walls sinking down on him. Jungkook looked like he was in a haze, his eyes unfocused and teeth sinking on his lip, barely watching the way he disappeared inside you. He only needed a bit more to be pushed over the edge. 

“Please, fill me up, Jungkook,” you begged. His eyes darted towards yours, watching your face. He could see that you had tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, a faint heat in your cheeks. God, he had completely ruined you. “Please, I need your cum.” 

And that was it. His orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, a deep groan leaving his throat as he spilled himself inside you, hearing the lewd sounds of your wetness as he continued to thrust up against your pussy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, head falling against the seat once more. Jungkook’s eyes closed as he felt the last drops of his cum being milked by you, his mind a jumble of broken words and disconnected ideas. “Oh, fuck, baby, fuck. Take it, baby, fuck...” 

Of course you did as he asked, and you took every drop of his cum until it was starting to spill out of you. You couldn’t even look down, but you were sure that you were a complete mess between your legs. “J-Jungkook, I’m so close,” you cried out, drunk on the feeling of his thrusts. 

“God, that’s it.” He pressed down on your hips, overwhelmed with the feeling of your walls clenching around his sensitive member. Jungkook loved it, though, loved seeing you cum around his cock like it was all that you ever wanted to do; loved watching your face as you looked at him with so much desperation that he almost grunted out. You really were a precious thing. “Make a mess on my fat cock, come on, baby. Let me see you cum for me.” 

His request was like magic to you, and you came right after, calling his name amidst breathy moans and high-pitched whimpers. Jungkook kept whispering in your ear as you rode your high, praising how good you were for him, how good you felt around him, until you crashed down against his chest, absolutely spent. 

Still, you had experienced enough sexual adventures with Jungkook to know that he still wanted two more things before he called it a night. He had his particular tastes. 

“Let me see it.” Jungkook told you about a minute later, and you knew exactly what he wanted you to do. With your thighs still trembling a little, you leaned back against the steering wheel and pushed your body upwards, letting his dick slip out of you. Jungkook hummed in delight as you pulled up your skirt and he watched his cum dripping down your thighs, painting your folds in a delicate shade of white. He always loved to admire his work. “So fucking pretty… and all mine.”

You had to bite down your lip not to whimper at the touch of his fingertips against your pussy, catching a bit of his cum on them. He took it to his mouth, humming around his digits as he tasted himself. “You always make such a mess,” you complained. 

“Shut up, I always clean it.” Jungkook sighed, looking at you almost tenderly. “You know what I’m gonna ask.”

Yes, you did. 

You sighed. “Fine.”

Jungkook hummed happily as you propped yourself over his cock once again, now half-hard, and placed it back inside you, sinking down until you were sitting on his lap. “Good girl.” He sighed in bliss, his hand caressing your hair as you rested your head against his broad chest. You didn’t understand why Jungkook loved staying inside you after sex, but you couldn’t deny that you weren’t bothered by it. You just liked to pretend as if you were. “Feels so nice.” 

You pressed yourself against his chest. “I hate you.” 

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your lower back. “No, you don’t.” 

And you hated that he was right.

~ 

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

[peskygirl13]

MK SO-

I just got the Pokémon SWSH DLCs and I was wondering what it would be like for some legendary Pokémon to come to twst and cause some trouble(Legendarys I’d like to do ( you c an pick just one: Kyogre, Giratina, or Groudon)

If you can i want it to be just Diasomina!

This turned out longer than I expected and I got so mad with myself because I was almost done with writing this and I accidently deleted all my new work, so I had to start over from my last save point which is one of the reasons it took so long to post.

I’ve been binge playing the old Sinnoh games and rewatching the anime, so this was fun to write (despite me deleting my work). 

This will have references to the Pokémon Platinum game, so spoilers if you haven’t played the game and plan to. 

Hope you enjoy!

Malleus's favorite time of the day was night time. Night time was the best!

The world was at peace, it was quiet, everything was asleep, save for a few nocturnal creatures much like himself, he could hide from SIlver and Sebek and have some time to himself, and there were no students or humans who would see him and run away in terror.

But his favorite thing about night time was probably when he got to visit his favorite human, (Y/n).

Their situation was a bit odd, having appeared out of nowhere from a world full of creatures called Pokémon, but Malleus didn't care. They weren't afraid of him. After spending a lifetime of having people fear him due to his name, it was a nice change.

Malleus arrived at the Ramshackle dorm to find you already sitting outside, cleaning your Empoleon's feathers.

"Greetings, Child of Man." He greeted, happily walking up to you.

"Hey, Tsunotaro." You smiled, putting down Empoleon's brush to wave at him.

That was another thing Malleus adored about you. Even after finding out who he was, you still didn't fear him and continued calling him by that amusing nickname you gave him.

You both entered the dorm, along with Empoleon, and he was instantly greeted with the rest of your strange creatures. Luxray, Togekiss, Glaceon, Garchomp, and Lucario.

You headed over to the kitchen to make some tea while he got comfortable on the couch. Once he was seated, Garchomp laid its head on Malleus's lap, implying that it wanted scratches.

By the time you had returned with two mugs of steaming tea, all the other Pokémon had already gotten comfortable and most had fallen asleep.

You handed Malleus his mug before sitting down in your chair. Glaceon hopped up and curled up in your lap before falling back asleep.

After you both got comfortable, you began regaling Malleus with stories of your world.

Malleus loved hearing your stories.

From your gym battle challenges to your contests. Catching all your Pokémon and even receiving an egg from a woman named Cynthia that hatched into a Togepi that which layer evolved into your beloved Togekiss.

Malleus has never left the Valley of Thorns, except for school, so he enjoyed hearing about your travels. Your freedom to journey and see so many different places, never being tied down, he envied it.

“May I see your badges and ribbons again?” He asked.

“Sure.” You agreed, getting up to grab them.

At the movement, Glaceon, rather huffily, got up from your lap and moved to Malleus, curling up on his lap instead. He instantly started stroking her with one hand while the other continued scratching Garchomp. He only stopped when you handed him your badge and ribbon case.

He immediately opened them both and admired your impressive 7 badges and 5 sparkling ribbons. 

You had told him that even though you had collected the required number of ribbons, you were transported to Twisted Wonderland before you could compete in the Grand Festival. You also hadn’t yet had the chance to earn your 8th and final gym badge, which allowed you to challenge the Elite Four and the Sinnoh Champion. 

“They are very impressive, Child of Man.” Malleus complemented.

Even though there wasn’t a gym challenge or contests in Twisted Wonderland, Malleus could tell how much value each badge and ribbon you earned had.

“Thanks, Tsunotaro.” You beamed, positively preening at the complement. “Maybe when I find a way home you could come with me and have your own journey. There are a bunch of dragon type Pokémon I bet you’d like. Maybe your starter could be an Axew. Or a Dino. Maybe a Gible seeing how well you get along with Garchomp. There are also rock or electric types. OOH- Maybe a fairy type!”

Malleus tuned your rambling out. His head was both empty and racing.

Him? Go on a journey in another world? The idea was preposterous! Yet... also tempting.

Traveling around with no chains. Nobody knowing who he was, thus no one quivering at the sight of him. No overbearing, but well meaning, guards to coddle him. He liked this idea!

Unfortunately, he didn’t have long to dwell on the tempting daydream when Ramshakle’s door slammed open with a loud bang.

“WAKA-SAMA!!!”

Speak of the devil.

You and Malleus turned to the doorway to a disheveled and hysterical looking Sebek and a normal sleepy looking Silver.

“Sebek.” Malleus greeted, hiding his annoyance of being interrupted during his time with his Child of Man.

“Waka-sama, you mustn’t leave without telling us! What if something happens to y-”

The half-fae was cut off by and ice beam, freezing him solid. You and Malleus looked over at Glaceon who was angry about having her sleep disturbed for a third time. Now quite irritated and huffy, Glaceon angrily marched upstairs to try and get some sleep in your room.

“My apologies.” You jumped when Lilia appeared behind you without warning, hanging upside down as usual. “They ran off when I wasn’t looking.”

You looked back at the other Diasomnia residence. Silver had already fallen asleep, using Togekiss’s soft, feathery body as a pillow, while Sebek was slowly beginning to thaw out of the ice.

You wish you could say this is the weirdest thing to ever happen with them.

After having Lucario use force-palm and free Sebek, you all sat down near the fire.

(You left Silver be since he was already asleep.)

Sebek wanted to know what was so fascinating about you that Waka-sama would continuously come visit you. 

The only thing you could think of was telling them about your journey.

“After I won my seventh gym badge at Snowpoint, I had to meet my friend, Barry, at Lake Acuity and right after that I had to meet with Professor Rowan and Lucas at Lake Verity.”

“Why did you have to go to those lakes?” Lilia asked, genuinely curious as to what value they had.

“Uh, well-- mmh-- pthbbt.” You tried to think of a way to avoid that question, or at least dance your way around it, and the stuttering and raspberry blowing was obviously helping you be discreet in avoiding the question. 

“GLACE!!”

A loud yell echoed from upstairs thatw as loud enough to wake even Silver. You were momentarily grateful that you had been interrupted before realizing ‘Oh shit that’s my Pokémon.”

“Glaceon!” You yelled, bolting from your chair and rushing up the stairs with your Pokémon and the Diasomnia boys at your heels.

You opened your bedroom door with a loud bang and saw Glaceon in a defensive stance, hissing at the mirror with Grim looking frazzled.

“Fgaah! Minion, control your Pokémon! I was asleep and then it started shouting and tried to attack the mirror!” He yelled angrily, before stalking off to the living room to continue sleeping.

You sighed before looking over at the mirror. You held out your arm towards your Pokémon so they knew not to do anything yet. You inched closer to the mirror, pausing only for a second to pet Glaceon and calm her down a bit. You walked forward a few more steps until you were face-to-face with the mirror. 

Now that you were closer, you could see the shadow of something moving within the glass. You didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t Micky. You leaned a bit closer, trying to make out the figure--

“GIRATINA!!”

Everything went black.

~

The first thing you noticed when you could see again was that you were clearly not in your room. Or your dorm for that matter. 

Everything was weird. You weren’t sure of any other way to describe it other than weird.

Weird and familiar.

“The Reverse World.” You muttered, shocked by your sudden return to the feared Giratina’s playground. 

You didn’t have long to stay dumbfounded when you remembered the Legendary who lived in this world. You frantically looked around you and saw that your team and the boys were with you, which did nothing to curb your panic. Grim wasn’t with you all, so you assumed hoped that he was still at Ramshackle.

You first woke up your Pokémon. They freaked out for a second before realizing where they were, putting them all on guard. They carefully scanned their surroundings for anything they found threatening while you quickly crawled over to the boys, traying to shake them awake. 

“Get up. Guys, get up! We need to move!”

The Diasomnia boys hardly registered what was happening and where they were before you pulled them away. Your team created a barrier around you all as you lead the boys through the strange new world. All they could do was look around wildly.

“Careful, gravity gets weird here.” You warned them. 

True to your words, the piece of land you all were walking on started to curve in the air until you all started walking upside down. Even Lilia, who was used to hanging upside down, was a bit thrown off about this.

“What is this place?” Silver asked what everyone was thinking, knowing that you were the only one who could give any of them an answer.

“The Distortion World.” You explained. “Also known as the Reverse World. It’s kind of like the Underworld of my world.”

That explanation only provided them with more questions but went they entered a place that had these large bubbles floating around them they were quickly distracted.

“Hey,” Silver called, gaining everyone’s attention. “This thing has headmaster Crowley in it.”

Said bubble did have a picture of Crowley in his office, working late into the night. Huh. Who know he actually did anything.

Silver raised a hand towards the bubble. 

“No, don’t touch it!” You exclaimed. Unfortunately it was a second to late and the bubble popped at the slightest graze of Silver’s fingers.

The boys looked over to you at the sound of you yell, seeing your panicked expression.

“Don’t. Touch. Anything.” You order, stressing out each word. “Everything in this world effects the real world. If you aren’t careful you could kill someone through this place.

The boys looked positively alarmed.

“Will the headmaster be alright?”

You waved off their concern, continuing to lead the way. “He’ll be fine. Popping that bubble didn’t kill him, but it did feel like he was hit with a bowling ball.

“How do you know this? How do you know so much about this place, (Y/n).” Lilia asked, dead serious. 

You glance over your shoulder at them before sighing.

Guess it was time to come clean.

“There are some things that happened during my journey that I didn’t tell you guys about.” You confessed.

“While journeying through Sinnoh, I constantly ran into an organization called Team Galactic. Their leader, Cyrus, believed that the world was ugly and needed to be destroyed. His plan was to capture the legendary Pokémon, Palkia and Dialga, and the Lake Guardians, Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf. Those three were the reason I met Barry and Professor Rowan at the lakes, Lilia, to try and save the Lake Guardians from Team Galactic. Anyway, Cyrus claimed that he was going to create his own, perfect world using the powers of the legendary Pokémon. At least I think that was his plan. He talks like Shakespeare and I have a middle school education. Anyway, before he could create his ‘perfect world’ Giratina appeared and took Cyrus away to here, the Distortion World. This is Giratina’s domain.”

The boys were stunned into silence. They knew you were strong, but for you to have done all that as well as fighting overblots? They were truly impressed.

“What happened afterwards?” Malleus questioned, enthralled by your story.

“Cynthia, the current Sinnoh Champion, and I entered the Distortion World to save Cyrus. Unfortunately, he saw this place as his ideal world and didn’t want to leave. In the end, we had to use force and I beat him in a battle. And, after that, I had to face Giratina itself. But, I don’t know how, but before I could face it, the Dark Mirror called me to Twisted Wonderland.”

You stopped walking, taking a deep breath before turning to face the boys. 

“We need to find Giratina. Giratina’s the only Pokémon that can travel between worlds and its the only thing that can get us back to Night Raven.”

Your tone alone was enough to my the Diasomnia boys understand the severity of the situation.

“Human, if this creature is as powerful as you claim, then how do you expect to get it?” Sebek interrogated. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a purple ball with an ‘M’ on it, showing it the the boys.

“This is a master ball. I stole it from Cyrus’s base when I went to save the Lake Guardians. It can catch any Pokémon without fail. All we need to do is find Giratina.”

“Lucar!” 

“Luxray!”

You all turned to Lucario and Luxray who were growling in the same direction. Looking closely, you could see something coming at you all. Your team took their battle stances and sure enough, there was the Angel of Darkness itself, Giratina. 

Even Malleus had to admit, that creature was terrifying. 

It looked like a dragon and centipede mixed together, but it towered over everything, easily dwarfing them all.

You waisted no time.

“Empoleon, Hydro Cannon!” You ordered. Even Sebek had to admit that your authoritative tone was hard to ignore and resist, full of confidence and superiority. 

Empoleon listened without question, fearlessly attacking the towering giant.

“Lucario, Aura Sphere! Glaceon, Ice Beam! Luxray, Thunder! Garchomp, Dragon Rush!”

All your Pokémon attacked at once, hitting Giratina square on. The legendary screeched before firing a move of its own that your team narrowly avoided.

“Great job. Keep attacking!” You ordered shooing the boys out of Giratina’s firing range.

“What do we need to do to help, (Y/n)?” Malleus asked. He was already gripping his pen, ready to fight.

“Nothing. Just stay put and don’t move.” You ordered sternly. The boys were stunned.

“What?! (Y/n) we can help-” 

“I know you can help,” You cut off. “But I don’t need to defeat Giratina. I just need to distract it.”

You ran off before they could question what you meant, whistling for your Pokémon.

“Togekiss!” You called, jumping off the edge of the land and easily getting caught by your flying type, who flew you behind Giratina. 

You let your team get in one last group attack before throwing the master ball at Giratina. 

The legendary effortlessly went in and after a spectacular dive made by you and Togekiss, you caught the ball and returned to the boys.

The boys ran over to you as you climbed off Togekiss, looking at the ball in your hand.

“I can’t believe you actually caught it, human!” Sebek exclaimed, flabbergasted. 

“Thanks, Sebek.”

“So what now?” Silver asked. The group all turned to you expectedly and you rolled your eyes before turning around to the wide open space and releasing Giratina from the master ball. 

“Giratina,” You called, “Please take us back.”

Giratina stared down at you before letting out an echoing screech and lowing its head to your level.

Immediately understanding what it wanted you to do, you crawled onto its head before waving the boys over.

“C’mon. We its going to take us back.”

Hesitantly, the boys climbed on with your Pokémon and once everyone was on, Giratina soared through the air.

This was different from riding a broom or riding Togekiss, who was happily flying beside you all, but it was exhilarating at the same time.

Too soon for anyone’s tastes, Giratina slowed down to a stop before lowering itself down so that everyone could climb off. 

The place were Giratina dropped you all off was a small patch of land with two lakes on it. You and the boys could see your bedroom in one of the lakes, making you realize that you were looking through your bedroom mirror.

“Alright!” You cheered. “Let’s get back.” But before you could step through the reflection, Empoleon called out to you.

“Empoleon!”

“Huh? What is it, Empoleon?”

He was looking in the other lake, pointing at something. 

You, your team, and the boys looked through the refection and you couldn’t restrain the gasp that left your mouth.

You could see the Mesprit, the guardian of Lake Verity.

“That’s Mesprit, Lake Verity’s guardian!” You exclaimed, coming to several realizations at once. “That’s close to Twinleaf Town. I-I could go home!”

You turned to your team and the Diasomnia boys, your eyes sparking with both joy and a few unshed tears. “With Giratina we can go home and still stay in Twisted Wonderland!”

Mallues watched you with soft eyes. He had seen a side if you tonight that he had never seen before. Your courage, your confidence, your skill. He had these too, but yours stemmed from experience. This wasn’t something you were taught since you were born like him, these were abilities you learned through trial and error with your team. Something that he wanted.

With a new found determination, Malleus turned to his most trusted knights and friends.

“Lilia, Silver, Sebek,” He began, quickly gaining everyone's attention, “I have decided that until it is time for me to receive the crown from my grandmother, I want to travel (Y/n)’s world with a Pokémon of my own.”

Even you weren’t expecting that announcement.

“WHAT?! WAKA-SAMA ARE YOU FEELING WELL?!?!? WE MUST GET YOU TO AN INFIMERORY!!”

“I’m fine, Sebek. And I’m not joking.”

“WHAAAAAAAT?!?! YOU, HUMAN, YOU HAVE GIVEN WAKA-SAMA THIS DANGEROUS IDEA!!”

“I think its a great idea.”

“MASTER LILIA?!?!”

“zzzzz”

You couldn’t help snorting at the scene in front of you. A rather calm Malleus simply being unmovable about his choice of coming home with you, a hysterical Sebek trying to talk him out of it, an impish looking Lilia who actually supported Malleus’s idea, and a snoozing silver, who could still sleep effortlessly despite the chaos surrounding him.

You leaned up against Empoleon’s belly, him and all your other Pokémon already lying down, knowing that this was going to take a while. Even Giratina was curled up!

But, You thought, watching the group was a soft smile, you know that no matter how much you wanted to go home, you would've missed this. And this, your friends and NRC, was something that you never wanted to lose.

Bonus:

After sorting everything out with Crowley, you returned to your world to reconcile with your friends and your mom. It took some explaining, but bringing Grim back with you as well as Malleus with his magic and horns was enough to convince everyone what happened to you.

Afterwards, you were able to compete in the Grand Festival. You didn’t end up winning, however you did make it to the finals. Your opponent, Dawn, had only beaten you by a few points.

The Diasomnia gang, as well as Grim, the Adeuce combo, and the Pomefiore Trio were all present to see this and couldn’t have been prouder.

Once the Grand Festival had come to a close, you headed over to Sunnyshore City and won your 8th and final Gym Badge, permitting you to challenge the Elite Four and Cynthia.

The Pomefiore Trio didn’t watch these challenges, but the other did. 

Their nerves were through the roof when you finally faced Cynthia. And when your Garchomp miraculously out sped her Garchomp with the finishing move nobody cheered louder. 

In the end, you took Malleus to the place where you caught Garchomp back when he was still a Gible and caught Malleus his own, whom he unironically named ‘Gargoyle.’ 

Malleus did have to return to the Valley of Thorns, but not without you promising that the upcoming summer would be the start of his own Pokémon Journey. 

I wrote most of this forgetting about Grim, so sorry he doesn’t have a bigger role or more screen time.

Fun story; I got in trouble for writing down my ideas for this at work even though I did it while the store was dead and I’ve worked there for nearly two years and have either written something or drawn something almost every shift I have. Litterally no one but the manager to caught me cares. 

And, just to irritate me more (whether she was aware of it or not), said manager takes my writings and decides to read them and then proceeds to put them back in the wrong order before lecturing me.

So, yeah, that was fun.

[verdant-soaring]

Lately, I’ve been spending a lot more time as an Eden guide for moths. I made myself a fun outfit for doing so-- notably for this story, including yellow cape.

Last night, I was messing around in Eden looking for moths to guide, when I lit the candles of three different people at the door and to my surprise, found that they were all sporting yellow cape as well.

They looked like moths, or at least players who could use help doing Eden, so I stuck with them. One of them raced far ahead of us, leaving me and two moths behind. The remaining moths stuck close to me, and we waited for each other so not one got left behind. I had a good feeling about them.

When we reached the building with the first winged light, a new player ran up to us-- we lit their candle, and found another yellow caped player-- not quite a moth I didn’t think, but certainly a friend. We collected them and took them with us.

When we reached the rocky sheltered outcropping in the middle of the rockfall at the beginning of the second area, two additional players ran up and joined us. One sported a fancy yellow cape from the Season of Dreams, and the other had an orange or red cape-- I was never quite able to get a good look at it.

They took longer than the rest of us to get past the rockfall-- the others and I waited for them, and then we were a single team. 

The krill area I have no pictures from, because my attention was much more divided trying to get others to safety. At least one of us got krilled around here. The moth with the harp fell down below the pipes and lost all their light, so I flew down to relight them. I friended them here, and flew them straight up to the pipes above, where the other Skykids had all gathered and were calling at us. There was a lot of confetti and spinning when we finally made it back :)

Likewise, the area with the last krill brought trouble. One of the moths ran into the krill’s spotlight, then ran back to where the harp moth and I were sheltering in panic. The krill’s focus changed to us-- I desperately tried to get us back and away, but we didn’t have enough time. Both the moth and I ended up losing light, and were send back to the pipes directly into the path of the rockfall.

I was sure the rest of the group was going to leave us behind at this point-- I figured they would want out of there as fast as possible. To my surprise, they were still calling out to us. I took the harp moth and redid the last stretch past the krill, this time with no casualties, and rejoined the group just inside the door.

I don’t usually go into Stormlock, but I’d already lost light to the krill and rocks and figured I had nothing to lose. Besides, the idea of everyone making it to Orbit together was very sweet, and I didn’t want to abandon any of them now, after we’d made it so far as a group. So into Stormlock we went!

I was the last to die in Stormlock. Sky must have changed it so that friends stay behind you watching until you die, rather then timing out after a few minutes-- all five Skykids called at me until I died.

They beepin’

We all spawned in Ascension at the same time, reinforcing my theory that they hadn’t been sent to the space with the glowing child until after I died. There was lots of celebration with confetti, backflips, and bowing. We then made our way to Orbit.

A party in Orbit-- we circled up for a bit, then waited here, too, for everyone to finish unlocking new wings.

I took the opportunity to friend all the rest of them here. I chose Ofsix as the naming suffix for all of them, because we were... of... six.

Then to be reborn...

...where we made a slightly terrifying Skykid pile in Homespace.

We had Homespace celebration with much spamming of emotes, where a lot of them friended each other as well. I had to log off and go to bed soon after so I could get up for class the next morning-- I spammed yawn and bow emotes, and almost all the players bowed and waved back at me.

This was certainly one of the most memorable Eden runs I’ve been on, and definitely the most populated-- I hope I get the chance to play with them again sometime soon. :)

[quindolyn]

Yes, Sir || Remus Lupin

Request: If you’re comfortable writing it could you maybe write a Remus smut where he’s really playing into a size kink and just man handling and throwing you where he wants you? -anon

Word Count: 4410

Notes: Agh! This is my first time writing full fledged smut, I hope you enjoy it. @st0nesnglitter proof read it for me, I couldn’t bring myself to read it again so I attribute all errors to her 

Warnings: Smut, degradtion, size kink, thigh riding, sir kink, professor/student relationship, poorly written, openended cop out

Masterlist

You were lying on your stomach, sprawled along Remus’ king size, four poster bed, face pressed up against a random book you’d plucked from his extensive collection, most of which appeared to have been swiped from the library during his time at Hogwarts. You were sure the book was interesting enough but you could barely focus on it, you’d been waiting for Remus in his bedroom for at least a few hours whilst he was downstairs in his office finishing up grading assignments from his 4th years. 

But it was getting late, and you wanted Remmy. Not allowing yourself to talk yourself out of what you were about to do you pushed your body off the plush mattress, not bothering to straighten out the bedding, if things went your way it’d be in vain.

You took a double take as you passed the floor length mirror. Examining your appearance you noticed your hair was mussed from lounging about his bed trying to find a comfortable reading position. Your uniform shirt was rolled up to your elbows with the top couple of buttons undone to reveal a healthy amount of cleavage accompanied by a glimpse of the white lace of your bra. Your skirt had ridden up dangerously high, the white material of your panties peeking out from the hem of the pretty much useless piece of clothing. You’d already abandoned your thigh highs, leaving your legs enticingly bare. A smirk graced your face as you pulled your skirt up even higher before continuing out the door, down the spiral staircase to your boyfriend’s office.

“Remus?” You rapped your knuckles against the heavy oak of the door.

You were met by the deep, honey like voice of your boyfriend, “Come in.”

Pushing the door open you took in the visual of Remus hunched over at his desk, the sleeves of his button up rolled similarly to yours as he ran a calloused hand through his hair. His desk covered in papers, his hand fiddling with his quill as his lips moved silently as he read. He hadn’t realized who was at his door until he lifted his head, scratching one final note onto the paper.

“Puppy?” He quirked an eyebrow, “I thought you were upstairs, are you going back to your dorm already? M’almost done I promise, just a couple left.”

“Not going back, just wanted to see you. Been waiting too long.”

He motioned you over with a crook of his finger, pushing his chair out from the desk, patting his thigh for you to sit on, “There you go Puppy, get comfortable.” His hands found their place on your waist, helping you settle on his thigh, allowing them to wander up and down your sides, squeezing your waist and hips. “Was my Puppy getting impatient, waiting for me upstairs?”

You nodded in response, your breath hitching as his fingers found their way to the waistband of your skirt, “Are these not fitting you anymore Poppet? Do we need to get you new ones?”

“No Sir,” You mewled, shivering as one hand left your waist band, instead finding their way to the hem of the skirt, now resting on the uppermost part of your thighs.

Remus let out a disagreeing hum, resting his chin on your shoulder, looking over your shoulder to watch his fingers play with the material of your skirt. “You sure Puppy? Because I don’t think so, it's not covering anything, anyone could take a look at your pretty little arse in one of these.” He punctuated his remark by bringing his hand down against your thigh, with no skirt to soften the blow you tensed at the impact before he began massaging the sensitive area with the palm of his hand. 

“Just came from upstairs Sir, no one saw me,” You reasoned in a pathetic whine causing him to grip your jaw in his hands. 

“Did I ask for excuses Bunny?” He spat, turning your visage to face him, his usually bright, sparkling irises now dark, drowned in lust. You whined out, trying and failing to shake your head in his tight grip. “Can’t even answer me? Come on I know you can be a good girl for me, now did I ask for excuses?”

You gulped, “No.”

He tsked, “No who?”

“No Sir,” You corrected yourself, feeling your panties begin to flood at his mocking behavior. 

Satisfied, he let go of your face, taking your hand in his so that your palms were pressed together highlighting the length of his fingers as they dwarfed yours. “Good girl, now was that so hard.”

“No, Sir,” You responded obediently.

His lack of response made you nervous, knowing he was plotting something probably devious. You knew you were right when you felt his lips on your neck, planting sloppy, open mouthed kisses on the delicate flesh that resided there. Your attempts to suppress your whimpers were in vain as he sunk his teeth into the side of your neck, leaving purple marks in his wake.

“Such pretty noises,” He murmured and from the sound of his voice you could tell he his lips were pulled into a gentle smile. Your breath hitched as his hands found their way to your thighs, gripping them tightly as he planted a kiss on one of the blossoming bruises on your neck. “Such pretty noises from such a pretty slut.”

You threw your head back onto his shoulder as small waves of pleasure rippled through your body, reveling in the feeling of his hands on your body.

“Alright pup, let’s get up okay?” It took you a second to truly digest his words resulting in him leaving a gentle, but firm tap against your hip to which you scrambled up to obey him, turning so that you were facing him where he was lounging in his chair. You couldn’t help but shift from foot to foot as his eyes roamed your body, taking in each detail of your appearance, grinning like an idiot when he went to the hem of your skirt, which really was useless now, completely bunched up at your waist.

“Can you take your shirt off for me?” He asked in a cloying tone of voice, almost as one would speak to a child when asking them to perform a difficult task.

Enthusiastically nodding your head you started on the button resting right between your cleavage, the work you made in your efforts was miniscule as it took more than a minute for you to undo the top button with your shaky hands and already cloudy mind not assisting in your efforts.

You felt yourself get increasingly frustrated as you failed to get a solid grip on the next button, the plastic evading your struggling fingertips. “You having trouble there bunny?” Remus’ deep baritone sounded from his chair, you lifted your face from staring intently at your shirt to Remus’, his amusement at your being unable to perform such a simple task evident on his face. 

“S’not my fault,” You complained, “Buttons are just so fuckin slippery!” You were exasperated, this shouldn’t be taking you this long.

“What was that?” All signs of previous amusement vanished from his voice, nearly taking you out at the knees as your soft, pleading eyes met his. He was fuming and it wasn’t until he spoke next that you realized why. “Did I say you could fucking swear you slut?” His voice was cold as his posture straightened itself out.

“No,” He said, not giving you the opportunity to respond for yourself, “I didn’t. I expected you to be my good little girl, didn’t think that was unreasonable, usually so obedient for me.”

“M’sorry,” You pleaded, your hands continuing to struggle with the small buttons, “Didn’t mean to break the rules Sir, just frustrated.”

“Did I say you could talk at all?” He spat, “No, I didn’t now stop breaking the rules, don’t want you to apologize, just want you to be good for me. Now come over here and let me help you with your shirt, fucking pathetic aren’t you?”

Knowing the question was rhetorical you didn’t bother responding, instead just taking the invitation to inch yourself towards Remus until you were standing between his open legs, your fingers still shaking, not yet having abandoned the buttons you’d failed to undo.

“Your hands are so small,” Remus mused, lifting one of his to pry yours away from the material of your shirt, “How do you even get things done with these little things, oh right,” He tightened his grip on you, “You don’t. Need me to take care of everything for you, can’t even take off your shirt. S’that right baby?”

“Yes Sir,” You murmured.

“Let’s get this off of you,” It took him half the time to undo the rest of the buttons and get the shirt off you that it took you to undo one button. Remus’ pants got considerably tighter taking in your appearance, your breasts clad in his favorite color on you. 

“I’d ask you to take off your skirt too but you need my help with that too don’t you puppy?”

You were quick to nod, desperately wanting to be naked as soon as possible knowing that the sooner Remus had access to your cunt the sooner you’d be feeling good. 

Opposite to the civil, careful approach he took in ridding you of your shirt, Remus quite literally tore your skirt from your waist, leaving your skin stinging at the aggression of his act. A blush creeped up your neck as your cunt pulsed at his action, watching him inspect the ruined material.

“How can you even wear something this small? It's so small, so short. What does it even cover? I wouldn’t even fit one of my thighs.” Ironically he took the time to carefully fold the skirt and set it on his desk before pulling you even closer to his body by your waist as if you weighed nothing. He splayed his hand out against your lower stomach, frowning as he watched the skin of your belly disappear underneath it. 

“So much prettier when I can see my cock inside of it, it's practically half your size puppy.” 

“Want your cock Sir, please give me your cock,” You pleaded shamelessly, gripping at his forearms.

“Beg,” He ordered simply and unwaveringly.

Not missing a beat you did exactly as he asked, and you begged, “Please Sir, please give me your cock, I need your cock. Feel so empty without it. Please Sir, make me feel good. I’ve been a good girl I promise.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me would you bunny?”

“No Sir, I would never lie to you.”

“Good,” He nodded approvingly before swiftly pulling you down so that you were on your knees before him, “You look so pretty on your knees, so easy to get you there for me, so obedient,” He murmured affectionately brushing a finger delicately across your cheekbone which already felt warm erupted into flame at his touch.

Wordlessly he started on undoing his belt, the distinct clink of the metal sending shockwaves through your body, your mouth began watering as he undid his zipper, pulling both his trousers and boxers down slowly, allowing his hardening cock to spring out against his stomach. 

You began to reach for his cock but quickly stopped yourself, looking up at him, blinking owlishly, “Sir, may I touch your cock?”

“Go ahead Puppy.”

As soon as he granted you permission you were on your calves, kneeling forward to take his cock in your hand which barely wrapped all the way around it, your fingertips only brushing each other as you pumped your hand up and down on his member. 

“Maybe your hands are good for something,” Remus growled, “So tiny but they can still pump cock can’t they?” His harsh words were contrasted by his delicate touch as he brushed hair from your perspiring forehead. Then threading his long, slender fingers through your hair they anchored themselves at the back of your head, using his leverage he tilted your head upwards to make eye contact. “You gonna wrap those pretty lips around my cock Princess? Make me feel good?”

Your answer came as you leaned forward, his hand not even needing to guide you into motion. You peaked just the tip of your tongue out between your teeth to kitten lick the head of his cock, lapping over the slit feeling the grip on the back of your head tighten.

“Don’t tease me Puppy,” He warned lowly.

Taking his threat at face value you licked a broad stripe up the underside of his cock, tracing a distinct vein that thrummed under your oral muscle. Breathing in deeply you sucked the tip of his cock in between your lips, looking up at him you saw his eyes clenched closed as he tried to refrain from bucking his hips up into your mouth. 

Working the entirety of his cock into your mouth you gagged as he hit the back of your throat, seeing that you were only half way down his now completely engorged member you willed your gag reflex to not get in the way of your mission as you forced him further down your throat. Feeling a few tears run down your face you wrapped your hands around the few inches that you couldn’t quite fit, working them up and down the sensitive, exposed skin.

“Such a good puppy,” He praised, “Taking my cock so far down your throat, can see it bulging in your throat. See,” He reached out, tracing his outline down your neck, “Right there, such a good little thing taking me in your mouth.”

As you bobbed your head up and down on his cock, hollowing your cheeks Remus let out a pornographic moan, god you loved when he was vocal. The sounds of his groans and grunts spurred you on, daring you to take him deeper into your mouth until your nose was finally nestled in his happy trail, brushing against his pubic bone, saliva making a mess of your lower face.

“Gonna cum Puppy, gonna cum down your throat, and you’re gonna swallow it all up for me like a good girl.”

He was right, he was about to cum and you could feel his balls starting to tighten, wanting to get him there you moaned around his cock which was still resting deep in your throat, his movements chafing your vocal cords. 

The vibrations of your moan sent Remus over the edge, causing him to buck uncontrollably into your mouth, triggering the gag reflex you’d been able to keep dormant up until then. As he came he let out a string of curses, allowing his head to tip backwards and rest languidly against the back of his chair.

You kept his cock in your mouth, swallowing each strand of cum he shot down your throat until he removed himself from you and letting his dick hang lazily in between his legs as he leaned down, melding his lips with yours.

“Did I make you feel good Sir, did I satisfy you?” 

He let out a dry laugh, nodding his head slowly as he already began to recover from his orgasm. “Yes, puppy, made me feel really good.” To your bewilderment he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before turning his chair back towards his desk, leaving you, mouth agape, trying to figure out what to say. He wasn’t really going to leave you like this, was he?

You were too confused to notice the subtle smirk pulling at his lips, he knew exactly what he was doing. He really did want to make you feel good, you’d made him feel so amazing just moments earlier and he wanted to reward you for that. But he was going to make you ask, like the good girl he knew you were.

“Yes, bunny?” He lilted, picking up his quill and dipping it into his pot of ink.

“I-I thought you were going to make me feel good Sir?” You asked, rubbing your thighs together, desperate for release.

“Is that how we ask, bunny?”

“No, Sir, I’m sorry. Please make me feel good,” You corrected yourself.

“That’s better,” He murmured approvingly, pushing his chair back out from his desk where he abandoned his quill, smearing ink on a random paper.

With a flick of his wrist you were getting up off your knees, standing submissively before him, you could now feel your slick on the inside of your thighs.

“Over here Poppet, on my thigh.” He helped you straddle his bare thigh, causing you to gasp at the mere sensation of him between your legs.

“You wanna cum? Then you can cum on my thigh while I finish up these papers, then when I’m done, if you’ve been a good girl I’ll fuck your little pussy.”

“O-okay Sir,” You nodded, beginning to thrust yourself against his thigh, the ridges rubbing deliciously against your soaked clit. It practically killed you as he went back to his work, the sound of his quill scratching against parchment nothing compared to the sound of his grunts as he destroyed your cunt. 

Remembering what was promised to you if you were a good girl and got yourself off on his thigh, you got back to work. Dragging your clit up and down his leg, you tortured yourself, not letting you go as fast as you desperately wanted to, knowing you’d get teased for being so needy and desperate. 

Throwing your arms around his neck you picked up your pace and feeling pleasure boil in the pit of your belly you tried to suppress a moan, knowing that good girls wouldn’t distract their Sirs while they tried to do work while at the same time letting their sluts get off. But despite your best efforts a soft moan escaped your red, swollen lips. 

“Keep quiet slut,” Remus scolded, the sound of quill to parchment not even pausing as he spoke to you, “Or you won’t get your reward.”

It was fate that you managed to remain quiet as you more closely approached your orgasm, you were so close the pleasure boiling in your stomach had you twitching as you shamelessly thrusted into Remus’ thigh, giving up on any pretenses of self control. You reached down to rub at your clit, desperate to tip over the edge of pleasure you were currently tip-toeing, but even while multitasking Remus was still the most observant person you’d ever met. Catching your hand before it ever made its way to your clit he squeezed it harshly.

“You know better than to touch what’s mine without asking Princess, come on slut, get yourself off on my thigh. You’re close, don’t even try to deny it.”

There was no correcting him as your climax washed over you at his command, sinking your teeth into his still clothed shoulder to muffle your scream as waves of pleasure crested through you, leaving you a shaking mess as cunt pulsed around nothing, still painfully empty.

You sighed, throwing your head onto Remus’ shoulder as he finally dropped his quill again and rested his hand on your back, rubbing it soothingly until coming to the clasp of your bra, expertly undoing it with one hand while the other anchored itself in your hair, pulling your head back to look you in the eyes.

“Aw, puppy don’t tell me you’re too fucked out already? Haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

“No, no Sir, m’not done, I can take more, I need more, please.” You begged unabashedly. 

That was all Remus needed before hooking his hands underneath your thighs and lifting you up into his arms. Shifting your weight to one arm he used the other to swipe the contents of his desk onto the floor, paying the sound of shattering glass no mind as he dropped you onto the desk. Your clothed bum hitting the unforgiving wood.

“Look at you,” Remus murmured, leaning back to take in your appearance, bare tits on display for him, legs clenched together hiding your closed pussy from his view. Sliding his hands between your closed legs he forced them apart, you putting up no resistance making it an easy feat for the werewolf. 

A simper graced his lips, now being able to take in the view of your clit, partially visible through the soaked material of your white panties. 

“So wet,” He mocked, reaching out a single finger to gently massage your clit, “So wet and I haven’t even touched you. How pathetic.”

Without warning, just as he did with your skirt, he tore your panties off your body, slightly less impressive now that you’d already seen him do it with much more substantial fabric, but still enough to send another gush of wetness to your cunt.

Lifting your bum up from the desk you allowed him to slip the waste of fabric out from beneath you. 

“You want me to fuck your cunt now puppy? You want my cock in you?” He taunted, pumping his hand up and down his cock, appraising your body, smiling as he took in his favorite sight in the world.

“Yes please Sir, need your cock, feel so empty without.”

“Course you do,” Quicker than you could comprehend what was happening Remus had abandoned his cock and instead had flipped you around so that your waist up pressed against the worn wood of the desk. You were forced to support yourself on your forearms as your legs dangled uselessly in the air, toes barely grazing the floor of his office. A chuckle in Remus’ low baritone sounded through the room, “So small your feet can’t even reach the floor, how adorable,” He accentuated his point with a slap to your arse, causing you to jolt forward.

“Sir,” You whined, “Please, I need you.”

“You think this little cunt can take my cock? So small, I might just break it.” He mused, pushing his index finger into you, smiling when your walls clenched around him. 

“No Sir, I promise I can take it. I’ve taken it before.”

“That you have Poppet,” He agreed, positioning himself behind you, you gasped, feeling the head of his cock trace your clit before he pushed the entirety of his length into your quivering hole, watching as you greedily sucked in all 9 inches of him.

“Fuck!” You swore, Remus’ rule slipping your mind as you lost yourself in pleasure.

“Don’t be a naughty whore (Y/N),” He warned, “Told you not to swear, didn’t I?” He questioned as he began to thrust into you unforgivingly, gripping your hips to stabilize you on the desk as without it you were uselessly sliding against the desk.

“I’m sorry!” You screamed as pleasure began to overwhelm you, with so little break between your last orgasm and the current ministrations on your pussy you were a whimpering mess.

“You should be,” He growled, leaning over you, bracing himself on his forearms to whisper in your year, “M’so good to you, least you could do is follow my rules. They’re not that strict.”

“They’re not!” You agreed as the new position allowed him to hit a new place inside you, intensifying your pleasure tenfold, if that was even possible at this point.

Gripping your hips and lifting them up slightly Remus increased his bruising pace, the combined sensations of his cock inside of you, his balls slapping against your clit, and you upper body rubbing against the desk had your eyes rolling back in your head as the pleasure began to overwhelm you.

At this point you were being fucked so thoroughly and ruthlessly that your feet weren’t even grazing the floor anymore, instead they were limp, hitting against the front of Remus’ desk as he supported your weight in his hands.

Remus was able to stretch you out like no one ever had before, to the point where pleasure bordered pain and the line between the two blurred to the point where you weren’t even sure if you knew what day of the week it was.

“What a little slut, if anyone came in right now they’d see you getting fucked by your professor,” You moaned at Remus’ filthy words which went directly to your cunt. “You’d like that though, my little exhibitionist.” Another smack to your bum was delivered as Remus lifted your lips even further into the air to reach new depths inside you. “Always so hungry for my cock aren’t you? Can’t go a single day without me filling this cunt of yours, can you?”

Your response was swallowed by a moan as Remus sped up his thrusts as his cock started to twitch inside you, causing you to clench your pussy around him.

“I’m close Sir, may I cum?” You pleaded, your voice shaking with the effort it was taking you to keep your orgasm at bay. 

“No,” He commanded through gritted teeth, “You’re not gonna cum until I say you can.”

“Ye-es, Sir.”

Remus growled as his thrusts stuttered, cumming inside you, rope after rope of thick cum painting your walls in his release. He stayed there inside you, leaning over you, your back pressed to his chest until he caught his breath. 

Pulling out of you he smiled, watching his cum drip from your cunt, “So pretty,” he murmured pushing a finger inside you and with it his release. 

“S-Sir?” You stuttered, not daring to move from your position until he said you could.

“Yes Puppy?”

“I didn’t cum.”

“You think I didn’t notice that? I’m not daft,” He shoved two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out viciously before completely pulling them out of your hole causing a pathetic whimper to escape your lips at the empty feeling that settled in the pit of your stomach where your pleasure still simmered.

“Feel so empty without something in there don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Get yourself up to my bedroom and when I get up there after I finish these last few papers I’ll make you cum over and over again Puppy.” With a light swat to your bum he zipped himself back into his pants but you were too desperate to move. “Now, before I change my mind.”

That got you up off his desk, darting up the stairs to his room where you laid dutifully on his bed, waiting for his arrival.

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

Comms

Title: Comms

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN! Teen reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: PG

Warning: Cursing, mention of wounds, blood, scared Mando.

Description: In an unexpected raid, Din finds himself unable to find his foundlings and searches for them.

Request: Hey! I love your stories and thought that I would submit a request myself. So this is about Din having a teen foundling/adopted child. They’ve known each other for a little over a year now and even if they don’t show it a lot they’ve grown attached to each other. So this particular story would be about the foundling nearly dying and Din being a scared Dad (I hope you get what I’m going for. Kind of a fluff/Angst story with comforting afterwards😅)

A/N: I'm so sorry this took forever to write, I've been travelling and my computer has been messing up so I have not had time to write at all. Anyways, here it is! I hope it's to your liking. It took me awhile for inspiration to hit but I am pretty happy with how it ended up. Enjoy!

....

“Okay kid, what do we do when we get in trouble?”

“Call for help and signal our location.”

Call for help and signal your location. That was all you were supposed to do, the one rule Din gave for you before he took you along with him anywhere outside of the safety of the Razor Crest. He considered himself lucky that you rarely wandered off without letting Din know where you were going, and that you always seemed to be able to handle most dangerous situations on your own. Maybe it was because you fretted to be too much of a bother for Din, seeing as he took you in almost a year ago when he could have easily left you. Din didn’t see it that way, if he was honest. You were valuable to the group, taking care of Grogu and the ship when Din could not, and he believed it his duty to protect all on the ship. Only once or twice did you call for him, and he was quick to come to your aid.

He did not think that today would be the day where his timing risked your life.

The Mandalorian found himself aiding a local trading village with a raider issue in exchange for information about a bounty he’d been pursuing. He’d led a group of men over to what they’d suspected to be the raider’s hideout and set up for an ambush. The Entrance of the cave’s dunes felt barren, and only after the mens’ legs grew sore from crouching and backs ached from huddling in the dark was it that Din began to suspect something was wrong. The quiet environment was abnormal behavior to the raiders he’d encountered before, no doubt this specific group would be any different.

“They’ll see you!”

Startling the men surrounding him, Din shot into the air and stalked the vicinity. The dunes’ walls stretched for meters long as he kept his piece raised, occasionally scanning weak spots for life forms or any piece of equipment. He paused, frowning a moment when his scanner detected nothing.

That was the first sign that things weren’t going as planned that day.

“...hiss…”

“...m..do... v.llage... here…”

There was the second.

Din raised his arm to speak into his comms.

“Y/N?” Nothing but static came back from the comms. Din fidgeted and smacked it a couple times before grunting in frustration.

Damn, comms were jammed.

Wait, they were jammed.

And in a moment of a horrible realization, Din was quick to grab the men and make their way back to the village. When they arrived they found the village in chaos- buildings were burning, villagers running, and materials and pieces and bodies strewn across the ground. For a moment, Din froze in fear and worried that you were on the ground as well, your comms still ringing static and Grogu taken from you, lost to the raiders, or worse, the Empire.

Din quickly made his way throughout the village, barely rounding the first corner when a group of raiders assaulted him. He threw punches at the first raider, using their momentum to kick them hard into another. After several dodges and shots from his blaster, most of them were dead aside from one that laid on the ground and clutched his blasted leg.

Din marched over and pressed his blaster against the wound. “Where are the hostages being held?”

As it turned out, the raiders had no plan of keeping hostages. When Din finally tracked the building where captives were supposedly held, he was unable to remain collected when he found that you and Grogu were nowhere to be found. Instead, he stood before raiders responsible for the attack, their blasters disturbingly put away as they argued amongst one another. Din didn’t bother listening, he looked around but saw no sign of his foundlings.

“Wrong door.” He said simply before taking out his blaster and shooting the raiders.

Pocketing his piece Din ran out of the stronghold and went outside, calling for you and Grogu. He thought about the worst possible scenarios that could have happened to you two as he took out the raiders pillaging the village, until all but one remained, the leader. He found him in the main courtyard of the village, his face hidden though his body seethed with labored breaths. He stood there for several moments before Din heard one last labored breath before the leader’s legs buckled beneath him and he slumped to the ground with a sickening crack of skull on stone. Hm? Din didn’t know what to make of this, and further stalked over, hand on blaster, examining the body. Upon closer look a blaster wound to the stomach was made more visible. So, someone got to the leader before Din could. That leaves the question… who?

A quick look around the area pointed out a trail of blood.

The Mandalorian followed this trail without any real reason behind it.

He found the remainder of the villagers at some point along the way. Sullen masses of faces mixed together, mourning the loss of their villages and lost ones but kept busy with treating the wounded. Women sat in huddles cooking with what food was salvaged and children sat quiet. One stood out apart from the rest in Din’s eyes, a large male leaning over a group of medics. Din recognized him as Cyrukee, the villager’s chief, who noticed the lone bounty hunter from the corner of his eye and stood up. In his arms was the most beautiful thing Din had seen all day, Grogu. The baby gurgled in joy as he walked up to the chief.

“There you are.” Din didn’t realize that he was holding his breath when he sighed in relief, taking Grogu into his arms.

“Sir.” Cryukee barely got a word out before Din turned to him.

“I’m looking for a youngling- my kid. Have you seen them?”

“Sir, please.”

“They’re this tall,” Din rears a hand near to your height, “they were with this little green baby. Your husband, he took them to the school. Where is he?” The Mandalorian made a full turn around to look for the red robed headman who was last responsible for your care. He reached for his comms and tried to reach you again. His voice rang back at him, and in a terrible moment of realization he realized that that was your comms.

“Where are they?”

“Sir, let me explain.” Cyrukee wore an exasperated expression and looked as though he was about to speak before one of the medics from the group he was with requested to speak with him. He spared a glance at Din as though he struggled whether or not to say something. And then, Din followed his arm towards the medics he was just with. Din didn’t know what to make of it, not able to recognize any of them. The Mandalorian took one last look at the chief, whose grave expression gave him reason to worry, and slowly walked towards the group of medics. He buzzed through the comms, trying to pinpoint your location. As he got closer he heard medics speak in soothing voices and their patient hyperventilating. Had it not been his own voice coming from the center of the personnel he would have moved on, instead he could not find the will to move. Grogu looked at him expectantly.

One medic in particular took notice of the beskar-armored man. He and some others quickly got up and pushed Din away before he could force his way through the medics to take a look at you.

“Hey, wait-wait-please.” Din grunted at the force and staggered several steps back. He took a moment to collect himself and Grogu sneezed in his arms. Dust must have gotten into his nose during the scuffle. “Please, my ward- my kid. That’s my kid.”

“Just a moment,” one of the bloodied nurses kept her hands on Din’s chestplate longer than he would have liked. He didn’t push her away though.

“I need to see my kid.” Din looked her in the eye, hoping that she could see his desperation through his helmet.

His kid. When Din looks back on this he would think about how he’s never referred to Y/N as his own before. He would have liked to think he said that so the nurses allowed him to pass easier. But deep down, he knew it was because of how much he cared for them.

“I understand but please let me explain. Sir, Sir!” Din retreated in defeat on his second attempt to get past her and the other nurses. She stared into his eyes and patted his shoulders, Din didn’t know whether she was trying to comfort him or control his movements. “They’re traumatized enough right now, and you moving around in that armor of yours will only make it worse.”

“What happened to them?”

“They had an encounter with Jetwal,” Din’s blood boiled at the recognition of the raider’s leader who’d died before him. “according to the children, your child was leading them to the outskirts when he found them. They killed him, he was threatening the children, and they shot him. Now, listen to me. They did get injured. Several blaster wounds to their limbs and upper torso- sir, listen please I cannot allow you to go to them just yet- they’re still panicking right now but I assure you their wounds are being treated right now. They’ll be fine, but disrupting our work will only inhibit us from treating them properly.”

She watched his gaze linger to the sound of your crying. “How much longer until I can see them?”

Din was not pleased to find that he was only allowed to see you when the nurse came for him herself. Reluctantly he walked a little farther away from the medics when asked to give them more space, and sat down with Grogu bouncing on his knee next to a young Twi’lek running their hands over their lekku to soothe themselves. Between glancing at the medics to keeping Grogu entertained, Din didn’t realize how much time had elapsed before noticing the nurse had come to his side to collect him.

She took a seat next to him. “They’re hurt very badly, but with time their injuries will heal. All they need to do is rest. You can see them now.”

Grogu giggled and played with the nurse’s finger that was threateningly wiggling on his little tummy. “Can you take him for a moment?”

Din stood up and gave Grogu a pat on his little head and rubbed his large ears out of habit. Something you used to do to calm the little green alien down after a terrible meltdown. Even under his helmet Din smiled at the alien before dredging towards you. You laid on a pile of fabrics that functioned as a makeshift cot, but you looked like you had a pile of fabrics on you with the amount of bandages that wrapped your body. You didn’t notice Din approaching you as you stared straight into the sky. Din wondered what you were thinking. What could you be thinking? From his knowledge, this was your first time dealing with major injuries from blasters. It must have made this whole ordeal so much more frightening to you.

Maybe Din was too light on his feet, recoiling instantly when you jolted at his touch and groaned in pain.

“It’s me, it’s me.” His voice was soothing, even more than normal which surprised him.

A sort of wheeze escaped your lips and you coughed. “Mando.”

“Hey kid.”

“I tried calling for you.” A gasp. “They jammed the frequencies.”

“Your message barely came through, kid. But it made us realize what was going on. We got here before more damage could be done because of you.”

Your form relaxed. “Good, good. Grogu?”

“With a nurse.” “The one with the sweet voice.”

“Yeah.”

“I liked her voice-” A cough. “Sounds like my mom’s. She was nice. She helped calm me down.” At this point Din had stared at you long enough to realize how puffy your eyes were from crying. He didn’t stop himself from reaching over to brush your H/C hair out of your face. You leaned into his touch.

“I’m pretty fucked up, huh?”

Your eyes were already locked onto his when he met your gaze. A tick passed, and Din’s eyes fell to the wounds you were referring to. He shook his head. “No, kid. That’s not what you are.”

“Feels like it.” Din scowled at your words.

“There are too many fucked up people in the galaxy, kid. You´re not one of them.” You look at him with a raised brow. “Y/N, you barely have any combat experience yet you took on Jetwal? What were you thinking?”

And you said something that surprised him.

“I was thinking of you.”

And Din couldn’t find any words. He cleared his throat and you continued, “We were alone and I had no idea when you’d come, I was scared something had happened to you because I couldn’t get a hold of you through the comms and that guy was coming at us and-” You inhaled sharply, wincing at what Din assumed was a jab in one of your wounds but he didn’t know how to help. You calmed a moment later, closing your eyes and furling your brows together. “I thought about what you would have done if you were there. You always looked like you knew what to do.”

To say that Din was proud of you would have been an understatement, he was beaming wonders underneath his helmet but realized that you couldn’t see through the beskar.

“I thought I’d lost you both.” Din admitted. “But I’m very proud of you. You saved lives, Y/N. That’s no easy feat for someone of your age.”

You grinned at him and laughed. “Did you do something like this when you were my age?”

“Yes, but I didn’t end up as fucked up as you did.” “Hey!” Din laughed and raised his forearm to block your playful hits.

A moment of silence falls between the two of you before you look at Din again. “Do you know how long we’ll be here for?”

“With your injuries, no clue. I’ll talk to the medics and Cyrukee to see what is to be done.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your fingers twitching involuntarily. Din’s hands find their way to your hair again. “Mando, I’m tired.”

“Rest. I’ll be here with you.” He watches you half-heartedly nod at his words and doze off in a matter of seconds. The injuries have taken a toll on your body, Din suspects, and he pulls a sheet over you. He sits with you, watching villagers talk amongst themselves, speaks with those who come by to thank him for his help, and accepts Grogu from the nurse when she comes over, thanking her for all she’d done for you. She told him that a thank you was not owed to her, and that if you were to need anything she was only a call away.

And when he was finally left alone, Mandalorian took one look to take account for his two foundlings. They slept soundly and with luck, heads full of dreams. Most importantly, they were safe in his care once again.

Din realized he’d been holding in a breath, and exhaled a sigh of relief.

.....

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