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menagerofmischief · 1 month ago

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Can I please have cold stuffed cherry tomatoes, sausage rolls, tomato soup and kebab with boba, rose and mocha coffee served by Lando Norris? And a little dessert too 💕 my favorite track is Zandvoort

stuffed cherry tomatoes sugar daddy cold appetizer rough sex sausage rolls "I'll make it fit" tomato soup "Running away from my dick? I don't think so" kebab "Look at that, my cock is splitting you in half" boba anal rose spanking mocha coffee degradation dessert aftercare + matcha toys

Lando Norris x sugar baby!girlfriend!reader

TW: unprotected sex, cumming inside, PiA, anal, fingering, toys , size kink

WC: 2.1k

A/N: sugar daddy lando implied but not specified. also anal is like my biggest opp so I hope this doesn't suck

I stared at the track ahead of me from the comfortable space of McLaren’s hospitality. Everyone was quiet from the moment the last lap started, waiting for the result. I twisted the Cartier love bracelet Lando bought me a few weeks ago, insisting I needed to match with him, as I watched the race.

But my thoughts were somewhere else. All I could think about while watching Lando approaching the finish, heading for a win, was a conversation the two of us had last week at Lando’s (mine as well, I suppose) Monaco apartment.

✿ ✿ ✿

“You know, I’ve been thinking about something,” Lando said, breaking the comfortable silence we had fallen into right after sex, both of us too tired to move.

“Oh, have you?” I asked, sucking in a sharp breath when I felt his fingers run through my folds, collecting some of his cum that spilled from me. “Lando,” I said, my voice breathless as his fingers slipped and moved down to my ass, rubbing around my other hole.

He hummed, his fingers, lubed with his own cum still tracing circles around my anal opening. “I’ve been thinking about fucking you here.” He said, his voice deep and dripping with desire. “Taking you fully. Your ass is the only part of you I haven’t fucked yet, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying my best to keep myself composed. “I’ve never done that before.”

He growled, placing a kiss on the side of my neck. “That makes it all the sweeter, baby. That I could be the first to have you like that.”

I looked at him, we were laying on our sides, facing each other. His eyes were dark, intensely focused on me. I was quiet for a moment, thinking about his proposition.

Lando waited, patiently. But his hand never moved away.

Finally, I swallowed, opening my mouth to speak. “I’ll make you deal,” I said, my voice cracking. “You win the race next week, and I’ll let you fuck my ass.”

Lando smirked, moving his fingers away from my hole, and grabbing my ass. “Deal,” he said, the tone of his voice letting me know he was already planning the whole thing out in his head.

✿ ✿ ✿

The whole garage erupted in cheers when Lando crossed the finish line. Everyone was up on their feet and screaming in happiness as the signs displayed Lando as the winner. Bringing him another 25 points and further confirming McLaren’s position in the constructors championship.

I was still lost inside of my own head as I made my way outside just in time to see Lando getting out of his car. He took off his helmet and balaclava, shaking his head to move his hair that was stuck to his forehead.

He turned towards the crowd and his eyes met mine. A smile stretched over his lips as he ran up to me and hugged me over the fence. His hands wrapped around me possessively, his lips brushing my ear. “I hope you’re ready for tonight,” he said, his breath hot against my skin. “Because I’m excited for my reward.”

He pulled away, lips drawn in a smirk and eyes gleaming. Lando leaned down, giving me a hard kiss before moving along to shake hands with the rest of his team and then going to do interviews.

✿ ✿ ✿

Lando was impatient. I knew that from the moment he found me after the interview and dragged me back to the car, throwing some bullshit line about how he was too tired to go clubbing and would rather have a nice evening in, to his friends.

His hand stayed on my thigh the whole time he was driving us back to the hotel, making me squirm in my seat, and once we made it to the elevator his lips were on me as soon as the door closed.

“Lan,” I said, trying to catch my breath as the elevator finally came to our floor. “Come on, this is our floor.”

Lando dragged me out the moment that the elevator doors opened, his grip tight around my wrist. He swiped the card and pushed me inside of the door, slamming the door shut.

“Fuck, you don’t know how long I wainted for this.” He said, pressing his lips against mine in a bruising kiss as he groped my breasts. “Been hard ever since I got out of the fucking car.”

His fingers moved to unzip my dress, fingers fumbling with the zipper before he roughly tugged at it and the sound of material ripping filled the room.

“Lando!” I said, as he pushed what was no longer a wearable dress down my body and onto the floor. “The dress -”

He cut me off by roughly spanking my ass, the sound of it echoing through the room. “I bought it, I can rip it.” He growled, his hands squeezing my ass. He pushed my panties off, his fingers dipping between my ass cheeks and then he froze and I knew he felt it.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes meeting mine, the expression on his face unreadable. “What’s this baby?” He asked, his fingers brushing the edge of the butt plug I was wearing.

I giggled, placing my hands on his chest, my fingers working on unbuttoning his shirt. “Let’s say,” I started, pushing his shirt off his body and running my hands over his naked chest. “I was confident you were going to win today.”

Lando groaned, leaning towards me enough for his lips to brush mine but not actually kissing me. “I’m going to destroy you,” he said, his voice rough and leaving no room for argument.

Before I could even begin to think of my reply Lando pushed me towards the bed. He pulled off his jeans, leaving himself in his boxers, before sitting down on the bed. I looked at him, confused but the confusion was quickly gone when he pulled me over his lap.

“Lan, what are you doing?” I asked, not entirely used to this position. Sure, he had spanked me over his knee before but I was totally unprepared this time. He brought one of his hands down roughly, smacking one of my ass cheeks, making me yelp.

“That’s for making me wait.” He said, then hit my other cheek with enough force to make me jolt slightly forward. ��And that’s for being a naughty girl and wearing a butt plug under your dress this whole time without telling me.”

He spread my ass cheeks and for a second he was silent before he spat between them, causing me to gasp at the feeling. “Look at you,” he said, his fingers running along my ass, collecting some of his spit. “Such a dirty little whore - and all for me.”

His fingers wrapped around the top of the plug, before he pulled it out of me, making me whine at the loss of fullness. I heard squirting of liquid and barely managed to turn around enough to see Lando putting lube on his fingers.

With no warning he pushed two of his fingers inside of my ass, replacing the plug. He started thrusting them into me slowly, dragging out each movement. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me and take my cock?” He asked, slightly speeding up the movement of his fingers.

I nodded, my hair falling over my eyes and blocking my vision. “Yes!” I whined, feeling my clit rub against his leg when he flexed his thigh, making me even more desperate. “Please Lando, need your cock! Need you to fuck my ass.”

That seemed to be enough for him. Wasting no time, Lando pulled me up and manhandled me onto the beg, pushing me onto my hands and knees. He stood behind me, gently rubbing one of his hands along my back while he squirted lube onto his dick with the other.

Once he lubed himself up, he moved the hand on my back so it was holding my waist, and then started slowly pushing himself inside of me.

The head of his cock slipped in and I found myself moaning out into the pillow below me. “Hurts!” I whined, because while I had stretched my ass a bit to prepare for this particular thing I had forgotten exactly how big Lando was.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, the dominant facade cracking. I knew that if I wanted to stop he would, no questions asked, but that wasn’t what I wanted.

I shook my head, “No, don’t stop.”

He chuckled, slightly gripping my waist. “Then what’s the problem, baby?”

“Too big!”

“Too big?” He laughed, his tone mocking. “Oh, don’t worry sweet girl, I’ll make it fit.”

He waited a moment before pushing himself inside an inch more. I moaned at the feeling of him stretching my ass but the moan was quickly replaced by a scream as he roughly thrust the rest of his length into me.

Lando’s hand grabbed my hair, pulling my head up from the pillow I had buried it into. “See, I told you it would fit. I’ll always fit in you, you’re my whore afterall. Made to take my dick perfectly.”

He started out with an experimental thrust and when I moaned he began slowly speeding up. “Fuck, look at that,” Lando groaned. “My cock is splitting you in half.”

His thrusts became rougher and faster, his slapping against mine with each thrusts, his balls hitting against my clit. The stimulation was increasing and I hadn’t even realized I was trying to push myself towards the headboard until Lando’s arm wrapped around my stomach and he pulled me backwards, impaling me on his dick.

“Running away from my dick baby?” He questioned, his voice holding a mocking edge. “I don’t think so.”

I felt like my body was burning from all the stimulation I was experiencing and when Lando’s hand sneaked around my body and his finger started rubbing my clit my arms turned into jelly. No longer having the strength to support my upper body, I let myself fall deeper into the mattress, my face buried in the pillow.

“Lando, so good!” I whined, the sound of my voice muffled by the pillow. “Gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!”

Lando’s fingers started rubbing circled on my clit faster, his hips speeding up as well, his thrusts becoming feral and desperate as he brought me closer to my orgasm while also chasing his own.

I knew Lando was close when I felt him twist inside of me. One of his hands grasped my hair, lifting my head up. “Cum for me, baby!” He said with a slight growl.

That was all it took to tip me over the edge and I was cumming, tightening around nothing as Lando filled my ass up with his cum.

“Fuck baby, that was so hot!” Lando said, pulling his softening dick out of me with a wet pop once he slipped all the way outside. “Think we can do it again sometimes?”

“Yeah,” I said, finally allowing my body to collapse onto the bed. “We should definitely do it again sometimes.”

I heard shuffling and felt Lando getting off the bed. He slipped inside the bathroom, leaving the door open and then I heard the sound of water running.

He came back, offering me his hands and I grabbed them, allowing him to pull me up into a sitting position, slightly wincing at the ghost of pain. “I don’t think I can quiet walk yet, Lan.”

“That’s okay, baby.” He offered me a gentle smile before picking me up. Lando carried me to the bathroom and then gently put me down into the bathtub.

I moved a bit forward, making space for him to get in behind me which he did, and then leaned back, pressing my back against his chest. I hummed at the warm water, running my hands through the bubbles.

“You even made bubbles,” I said, my voice hoarse from how loud I had been.

Lando laughed, his hands gently caressing my skin as he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss onto my cheek. “Of course I did. How could I forget how important the bubbles are for my girl? I love you, baby.”

I smiled, melting back into him, “I love you too, Lan.”

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justwinginglife · 4 months ago

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thinking of a Hoshina/narumi x Vice captain! reader who was raised to be a traditional wife for wealthy clans 🤔 Like she looks and acts like what people would scream wife material and in the field she be an aggresive fighter but still keeping a graceful look on her....i imagine she'll be the type to use aggresive weapons like SMGs just to contrast her character

Disclaimer- I am a Hoshina girlie through and through and idk if I would even know how to write Narumi but I will give it a shot for you anon. Thanks for trusting me with this request, I will do my best.

Three's A Crowd

You always thought you'd marry well, after all, you'd always been told that being a wife was what you were made for. And not just because you'd been raised by a governess in a proper household, no- you made the act of being a wife look effortless. If being a wife was a job, you were the CEO. If being your husband was a prize, the raffle tickets would've sold out.

Your parents would joke to family friends that you glided out of the womb in stilettos, ready to host dinner parties with your best wine and your best smile. And then when you were the youngest female to ever make Vice Captain in such a short amount of time, people just assumed talent was in your DNA at this point. You could completely brutalize the hell out of a kaiju, not even get your hands dirty or break a sweat, and then be back home in time to instruct the household staff which table settings to use for dinner and maybe even recommend a nice dessert pairing for whatever meal the chef had prepared.

Now, coming from a well-established clan, you had always assumed you'd marry one of the Hoshina brothers as your family had deep ties to the Hoshina clan and you'd known them since you were young, but you had also recently caught the attention of the Captain of the First Division and you could never resist a man with power.

As the Vice Captain of the Second Division, you were constantly meeting with the Captains and Vice Captains of other divisions, but for some reason you didn't meet the Captain of the First Division at any of those stiff meetings. In fact, he never showed up so you thought you might never meet him. But fate must've had other plans because one day as you were on your way home from meeting with the Vice Captain of the First Division, a kaiju decided to take a bite out of a nearby building and that's where you met Gen Narumi.

It's like he had known they were going to strike because he was onto them in a matter of minutes, skewering them like a kebab. You were impressed but you didn't want to let him have all the fun, especially since this might be the only time you ever interacted with him again. So you raced him to take down the remaining kaiju in the vicinity, gunning them all down with equal parts aggression and grace. He had been quite impressed by your agility and the elegance with which you slew each creature. So much so that he actually started showing up to his meetings from then on just to get a glimpse of you. And then he got greedier and a glimpse just wasn't enough for him anymore, he wanted to talk to you, get to know you.

Soon, a rivalry had formed between Gen and Soshiro as they both raced after your heart. The two of them were so different, pretty much the only commonality they shared were their feelings for you.

Gen was a quiet lover, he'd shrug people off when they'd ask if he was seeing you, keeping to himself about the details. But then he'd secretly leave a vase of your favorite flowers for you to find the next morning and if you confronted him about it he'd simply say your apartment looked so sad that even a bunch of weeds he'd scrounged from some random field was an improvement to the place. The flowers were not in fact wildflowers as he claimed, you could tell he'd gone to great lengths to buy the most expensive bouquet he could find from the hothouse but he'd never acknowledge it.

Soshiro was the exact opposite- he was loud about his love. He'd sling his arm around you, and brag to anyone who'd hear him about what a catch you were. He'd remind you everyday how much he adored you. And though it bothered him that Gen was attempting to court you too, he always felt he had the upper hand, having never seen Gen make any grand gestures for you or declare his love for you as openly as he did.

You were used to many men vying for your attention but you never thought that two of the most powerful fighters in the JAKDF would be among your long list of suitors. In fact, the two of them paid such frequent visits to the Second Division that you didn't think you'd even have time to look at any other men. Not that they'd let you look anyway, they'd pretty much assumed that one of them would be the one to marry you.

They weren't wrong. You did intend to choose from one of them as you'd grown quite fond of your little daily routines with each of them. Soshiro was always the first person to text you something sweet in the morning, he wanted you to get a taste of what it would be like to wake up next to him. Gen was always going out of his way for you, picking up dinner from your favorite restaurant an hour away or buying you a pair of earrings you mentioned in passing months ago, once he'd saved up enough for them (you had expensive taste).

It was the first time you felt like more than just some prize, you were actually wanted and desired as a human being. You felt like maybe even if you didn't say the right things or laugh at the right time, even if you fell short of the perfection you'd worked so hard to achieve your whole life, they'd accept you as you were.

It was both a blessing and a curse as you knew you'd have to pick eventually. As different as Gen and Soshiro were, they both did not share well and this little arrangement you had, seeing both of them, would not hold up for long.

But you'd hold out for as long as you possibly could. For as long as they'd let you.

After all, true love is hard to find and you'd stumbled on double the jackpot.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #anime #hoshina #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #gen narumi #narumi x reader

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shiratamahatsumiyo · 2 months ago

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TWST with an Angelic Mage reader

Warning: Reader is suicidal, slight swearing.

Angel Magic revolves around summoning angels, each of which are capable of inflicting different kinds of damage. An Angelic Mage can summon them through the use of Angel Coins. Each coin representing a portion of the user's lifespan. If the summoned angel is defeated, the user will suffer great pain. Only powerful Angelic Mages are capable of summoning basic angels without a cost and suffer no drawbacks when they are defeated.

...Listen, I'm gonna be honest with you guys...

I don't really give a shit about the lore of the characters, I'm mostly interested in the magic/skills they use (examples: Blood Mage, Angelic Mage).... Why do I like risky magic concept? I don't know. I just think they're creative. Like, when there's a protagonist that just punches things with fire magic, ooh so classic. When there's an antagonist with a destructive magic but there's one flaw or loophole about it that the protagonist has to figure out in order to defeat them, wow ok cool... BUT THEN THERE'S THAT ONE SIDE CHARACTER EITHER THAT DOESN'T GET ENOUGH SCREENTIME OR WE'LL NEVER GET TO SEE AGAIN THAT HAS A CREATIVE CONCEPT OF THEIR MAGIC: SUMMONS ANGELS, CONTROL BLOOD VESSELS, STABS THEMSELVES TO UNLEASH THEIR BUILT-UP MANA TO DEMOLISH SHIT. LITERALLY DESTROYS EVERYTHING INCLUDING THEMSELVES BECAUSE HELL NAH THEY AIN'T GOING TO JAIL.

...Sorry, I'm just rambling at this point, please excuse me. Now, onto the story!

• .............................................................................

• .........................This is boring.

• You thought that it's your time to arrive at death's door but no. Instead, you have to wait inside this stupid coffin for what it feels like eternity. Thank god that this fiery gremlin gave you an excuse to come out. This way, the Grim Reaper won't punish you for coming out of your coffin~

• Oh! It looks like this creature's name is Grim. How cute! Until he demanded that you strip. Not cute! What's that? He'll roast you if you won't strip off your robe? What a coincidence! Your little angels are hungry for some weasel, silly Grim 😊........... Run🙂.

{Meanwhile, at the ceremony}

• While the Dark Mirror sorts all of the students to their respective dorms, Crowley went to the Hall of Mirrors to fetch the last coffin. He was quite puzzled when the coffin did not respond to his call to levitate to the ceremony room.

Dark Mirror: "Hmmm... Heartslabyul!"

Azul: "My, that's quite a number of students for this year."

Leona: "Yawn... When will this be over?"

Riddle: "How impatient, Kingscholar. There's only 1 hour and 23 minutes left until the ceremony ends and that's your 12th yawn."

Idia, via tablet: "Dude, you've been counting his yawns?"

Kalim: "Huh... Is that enough time for Jamil to prepare the Welcoming Party?"

{Meanwhile at Scarabia}

Jamil, setting up the plates: "WHERE IS THE CHICKEN SALAD?!"

Scarabia Student A, cutting the vegetables: "I'M MAKING IT--"

Jamil: "DO IT FASTER! WHY IS THIS KEBAB STILL RAW?!"

Scarabia Student B, holding a flaming pan: "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"

{Back at the ceremony}

Kalim: "...Nah, It's Jamil! I'm sure he can handle it."

Vil: "Bring the next coffin. I still have an interview tonight."

• The headmage returned to the room with no coffin.

Crowley: "... I think we'll be behind schedule for a bit."

Leona: "And what do you mean by that ?"

Crowley: "The last coffin is empty."

Vil: "... Pardon?"

Riddle: "How in Twisted Wonderland...?"

Azul: "Impossible. That can't be."

Crowley: "Do not worry! For I will graciously search for them myself--"

• Just as he was about to turn back with his lash, a small screaming monster burst through the doors and ran inside the room. The monster hid behind Crowley, using him like a shield. The students overheard the loud monster and pulled out their magical pens.

Grim: "FNYAAAAH! THEY'RE GONNA EAT ME!"

Crowley: "What the- Halt, monster! You should not be on campus-"

Grim: "THEY'RE SCARY! DON'T LET THEM GET NEAR ME! SHUT THE DOORS BEFORE THEY GET IN!!"

Crowley: "Who?"

?????!??????: "...Hehehe...😊"

• The two looked at the hallway of the door and see a silhouette of a person approaching the room. The headmage then recognized the robe and immediately thought that the person is the missing student. The alerted students put away your magical pen, thinking that the monster is your familiar.

Grim: "I-IT'S THEM! CLOSE IT! CLOSE IIIT!!"

?????!??????: "Be not afraid 😇."

Grim: "Fnyaagh!!"

Crowley: "Ah! You must be the last student. Quite the impatient one, are you?"

?????!??????: "I apologize. But I simply couldn't bear to wait any longer."

Crowley: "You must also tame your familiar properly! Look at how afraid he is of you!"

Grim: "Fnyagh?! Heck no! I'm not this weirdo's pet! A-and the Great Grim's scared of no one!"

?????!??????: "You're not? Oh well, I guess I just misunderstood your appearance then."

Crowley: "He's not yours?"

Grim & ?????!??????: "Nope!"

Crowley: "Then I will order students to throw this beast off of campus."

Grim: "FNYAGH! WAIT, YA CAN'T DO THAT! I'M A MAGE HERE! NOOOOO!! JUST YOU WAIT! I'LL BE THE GREATEST MAGE IN THIS SCHOOL!!!"

• The headmage then called a couple of students to restrain the monster and drag him out of the room. It's a shame~ You really thought that this feline will guide you to heaven but you couldn't help but feel a little bad. Just a little bit. Wait, did he just say school?

Crowley: "Ahem! Without further ado, let the ceremony continue! Please stand in front of the Dark Mirror and say your name."

?????!??????: "...Why?"

Crowley: "To sort you, of course. Now go."

Leona: "Finally. This stupid ceremony better be over.... Yawn"

Riddle: "That's your 13th yawn."

Idia: "Bruh, just stop counting."

• You noted that some students still kept their guard up, thinking that if the monster was so scared of you to the point of running and hiding, then you might be the bigger monster. The students near you stepped away after sensing your heavy aura.

• The mask-wearing man shoved you in front of an old, intricately designed mirror. A face appeared on the surface, scowling at you.

Dark Mirror: "State thy name."

AngelMage! Yuu: "AngelMage! Yuu."

• The mirror stared intensely at you before expressing shock and disdain. Almost like it sees through you...

Dark Mirror: "...This soul does not belong in any dorm."

• The crowd of students gasped in shock and the headmage is in disbelief. Whispers among the students soon filled the room, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere.

Crowley: "I do not understand! The Ebony Carriage would never... How?!"

Dark Mirror: "Thy soul... Is dark... Their soul is divine but impure... Their light is bright but tainted..."

Crowley: "Tainted?.... Could it be? Blot?"

Dark Mirror: "...This one possesses an art form of magic that is celestial, yet uses it for horrible intentions, throwing no caution of the power they hold..."

Azul, pushing his glasses up: "Celestial, you say?"

Idia: "Damn, this sounds like an anime scene."

Dark Mirror: "... The darkness in their soul has swallowed and layered their heart. Thus, they do not belong in any dorm."

#Twst x reader #Twst x GN reader #Twst x female reader #Twisted Wonderland x GN reader #Twisted Wonderland x reader #Twisted Wonderland x female reader #Twst x Fairy Tail #Twisted Wonderland x Fairy Tail #Twst x Angel Mage reader #Twst x mage reader #Twisted Wonderland x mage reader

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beanwaterontherocks · 5 months ago

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Stress relief (Part 3)

(Hoshina Soshiro)

Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x gn!Reader (they/them pronouns) Pt1 Pt2 Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x gn!Reader (they/them pronouns) Summary: Your feelings for Hoshina are becoming harder to ignore, you even find yourself jealous for a man you're not even dating. How dumb is that? There's no way he could feel the same. Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, afab reader, handjob, oral (m receiving), swallowing, p in v sex, marking, biting, slight dom reader, jealousy, Word count: 4489

You put your coffee mug down and sat on the couch. Hoshina sat beside you, it was one of his rare days off and he chose to spend the afternoon with you. The thought made warmth bloom in your chest.

“Who do you think the killer is?” You asked him, pointing to the novel next to his own cup of coffee. Hoshina hummed in an exaggerated manner and put a hand under his chin. You laughed as you leaned back.

“I think the sheriff did it, he’s always nervous when they talk about the murder”, he said and you sighed in defeat. It’d taken you most of the book to figure that out before the reveal.

“Note to self: don’t recommend Soshiro any more mystery books”, you chuckled, suddenly realizing the other officers in the break room were shooting you glances. The man was like a detective, had it really been that weird to say?

Oh, you had called him by his first name.

You hadn’t even thought about it, but this was the first time you had called him that…outside of the bedroom. Hoshina just smiled, seemingly not phased by it.

“I don’t mind, it’s fun and ya have good taste in books”, he spoke, making you forget about your embarrassment. You two were good friends, so maybe it wasn’t weird at all. But would a good friend kiss you as warmly as he’d done that morning? Your chest began to hurt, your feelings were bothering you a lot more now.

The moth-like yoju flew towards you, its mouth wide open and displaying rows of jagged teeth. You never really got over how unsettling kaiju could look. Larger guns were inconvenient against smaller, speedier enemies. You raised your metal staff and shoved it straight down the kaiju’s throat and angled it so that it pierced through its back.

“Oh nice, the kaiju-kebab!” One of your officers exclaimed as he pulled his knife out of another monster.

“That’s so lame, I call it the ‘eat it, bitch’, really gets the point across”, another one spoke as she fired her handgun several times into the eye of a yoju.

You swung your staff and sent another one flying into a wall, splattering it. You pulled out your handgun and shot the Kaiju between its bug eyes. “Don’t name my moves for me” , you said as you felt your earpiece buzz.

“All yoju have been neutralized, beginning disposal”, Okonogi said from the operation room.

“Moths don’t even have teeth…or mouths!” An officer complained as he poked a dead yoju with his boot.

“Usually they aren’t the size of grizzly bears either, yet here we are”, you said as you returned your staff to the holder on your back. You met up with the Third Division as the disposal crew arrived. The crowd had parted and fences were already being set up to block off the area. Hoshina waved you over to him and you joined him. You all walked towards the cars as the citizens cheered for the Defense Force.

You smiled, they really deserved this applause. You turned to Hoshina: “How’d it go with-“

“I love you, Vice Captain Hoshina!” Someone in the crowd yelled, cutting you off. You whipped your head around, suddenly feeling very irritated. Someone had just screamed what you’d been aching to say. You envied them, they could just say it without having to worry about the consequences.

Hoshina waved at the person who had yelled, making their face flush. How nice for them. You felt a strong urge to grab Hoshina’s hand or lean in to whisper something to him. You picked up the pace to walk in front of him instead. One of your officers put a hand on your shoulder, maybe you had been frowning.

“Come on, Commander! Don’t get all jealous”, they laughed. Jealous? Who was jealous, what was there to be jealous of? “I’m sure you’ll get some fans of your own!”. You sighed and shrugged your shoulders.

Of course Hoshina would have fans, Defense Force officers were like celebrities here. While Captain Ashiro was one of the most popular, there certainly wasn’t a lack of Hoshina fans. Even just searching his name led you to several accounts dedicated to posting photos of him.

Your browsing also brought you to some…raunchier accounts. You really hoped those weren’t making him uncomfortable. As you continued to scour online, you felt frustration bubble up inside of you. Seeing people fawn over him made you grit your teeth. You shook your head, you shouldn’t blame them, you couldn’t. Hoshina was handsome, strong and, to their knowledge, single.

No, he is single. You corrected yourself internally, even though it hurt. You weren’t his partner, there was no reason for you to feel like this. But even so, you closed your laptop and stood up. At least you could actually enact the fantasies they were dreaming about.

You caught Hoshina just as he was leaving the baths, he was clad more casually in a loose t-shirt and pants. With that tell-tale look in your eye, you asked him to follow you. He gladly did so and the two of you, once again, ended up in his room.

“Ya sure are eager today, ya aren’t tired after that mission?” He asked, though his hands betrayed his words as he pulled you close. His skin was warm to the touch and he smelled pleasantly of soap. If only the baths weren’t shared, then you’d definitely join him for one.

“Please, what kind of commander would I be if I got exhausted from that?” You spoke as you looked at his neck. The mark you’d left was fading, now just a pink patch of skin. But the fact that he wore something that showed it excited you. Did anyone notice and did they wonder who gave it to him? You longed for people to see the bruises and immediately know that they came from you.

Without hesitation, you leaned in and sucked on his neck, right over the old hickey. Hoshina hummed in delight as his hands went up your back, pushing your shirt up. You reluctantly pulled away, taking a second to admire the new bruise as you pulled your shirt off.

"Ya sure do like my neck", he said teasingly as he ran his thumb over the purple spot, a satisfied smile on his lips. You tilted your head to the side and pointed at the remnants of one of his bites.

“You’re saying that?”

Hoshina's arms wrapped around your waist and he eyed the bed behind you. You realized as your lower bodies pressed together, he was already hard.

“I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about ya in the bath, ya looked so good after that mission”, he admitted breathily. You felt heat spread throughout your body, he’d just sat there, hard and thinking of you. You bit your lower lip, your head spinning at the image as you moved your hand down to feel him. Hoshina gasped, a bit surprised at your forwardness, but it quickly turned into a smile.

“You clearly didn’t do it there, but do you think about me when you get yourself off?” You questioned, palming his hardness through his thin pants. Hoshina exhaled shakily at your touch, but he kept a grin on his face as he whispered into your ear.

“It’s all I think about, all those cute noises ya make, how ya feel wrapped around me and the way ya look when-”, his sentence was cut short as he moaned when you stroked him harder. The heat between your legs was hard to ignore, but you were determined to see this through. Hoshina lifted his head and looked at you, eyes glimmering with mischief as he grinded against your hand.

“Although it’s never as good as havin’ ya, just what have ya done to me?” He teased, making your heart pound. One hand slid down to the back of your thigh, dangerously close to your heat. A part of you wanted to give in to the seduction and let him have you. But jealousy was still clouding your mind, even if just for tonight, you wanted Hoshina to be fully yours.

You pulled on his shirt, spinning the two of you and pushing him down onto the mattress.

“Sorry Soshiro, but I did say it’d be your turn, I hope you don’t mind”, you said as you pulled his shirt off. His pants and underwear were pulled low on his hips, freeing his aching cock. You wrapped your hand around the base and began stroking him.

“Ya really are spoilin’ me”, Hoshina said, followed by a pleased sigh as you teased the head “What’s the occasion?” You rolled your eyes at his comment as you pumped him faster. His cock was throbbing in your hand, beads of precum leaked out, making things slide easier.

You faced him as you did it, thoroughly enjoying his expression. His cheeks were flushed as he tilted his head back. You couldn’t help but lean forward and suck at his throat, leaving yet another mark as you tightened your grip. Hoshina caught your lips in a deep kiss, his hand finding yours and he squeezed it tenderly.

“How do you feel?” You asked, grinning as you sped up even more. Hoshina keened, raising his hand and softly holding the side of your face. His mauve eyes were gentle, his smile soft and sincere.

“So fuckin’ good, you’re so beautiful”, he said, panting at your strokes. Your heart pounded in your chest, this was all so intimate. You wanted to stay there, to keep pretending that this was love, but it pained you too much to remember that it wasn’t. Instead, you moved down his body and licked a stripe from the base to the head. He sighed sensually, still not letting go of your hand, but you didn’t want him to anyway.

You took the head of his cock into your mouth, going deeper and caressing the part you couldn’t fit. His precum was salty on your tongue and he felt so hot. The sounds Hoshina made were driving you crazy, his bravado from earlier had melted away as he gave in. As you bobbed your head, longing to reach a hand down and touch yourself. You needed to hear him finish first, to know you’d done that to him.

When you moved the tip of your tongue around the head, he throbbed and you glanced up at him. Hoshina was panting wildly, he wasn’t even like this during high-stakes missions and you were the one making him act this way. You shuddered when you felt his hand on the back of your head, but his touch was soft.

“Yeah, that’s so good, keep goin’, I’m almost there!’”, he moaned. Despite how close he was, he never pushed you down further. You pulled back a bit and sucked around the head, locking eyes with him. You were acutely aware of the wetness that soaked through your underwear, but you’d deal with that soon. “I’m coming!” Hoshina exclaimed, calling out your name as you felt him finish in your mouth.

You pulled off, keeping eye contact as you made a show, sticking out your tongue and then swallowing the saltiness pooled on it. His eyes went wide at your display. How did he like the taste of his own medicine? Clearly, he liked it a lot, because you were pulled down to him.

“Didn’t I say it was your turn?” You asked, though there was no malice in your voice as Hoshina mouthed at your neck.

“I’d love for ya to do that again but”, he said as he bit at your skin, leaving a stinging mark “I have to be inside of ya or I’m gonna lose it”.

Who were you to deny a request like that? Hoshina sat up against the headboard and grabbed a rubber from the drawer. You stripped off your bottoms and underwear, feeling the cool air on your soaked cunt. He immediately grabbed your hips when you moved closer and put the tip to your entrance. You sank down onto him slowly, moaning as your hips met. He gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin.

“Ya always feel so perfect”, he mumbled. You leaned against him and rested your head on his shoulder.

“You too, Soshiro! You fill me so well”, you said, rocking your hips softly. You sighed as you began to move, grinding against him and feeling the way he hit your inner walls. Your toes curled as you felt him thrust upwards, hitting that spot. Hoshina’s arms wrapped around your waist, steadying you as he moved his hips. Your arms went around his neck, his heart beating right next to your own.

You moved your hips to meet him, both of you moaning together. You pressed your forehead to Hoshina’s, looking into his eyes. You didn’t care if this was too intimate, you just needed to be close to him. You moved your hips in circles, making his breathing hitch. The way he filled you was nothing less than incredible. You raised your hips and sunk down onto him again with a whine. He moaned lowly when you repeated the motion, his hold on your hips tightened as he took over, grinding into you with a steady rhythm.

“I’m so close already, ya really have ruined me”, Hoshina chuckled, placing a soft kiss on your jaw. He moved one hand down to rub your clit in tandem with his movements, making your legs shake. You felt your heart pound at his words.

“If you’re ruined, then I’m fucking wrecked”, you gasped, thrusting your hips and chasing your release.

“I'd love to see that”, he said, picking up the pace and thrusting up into you, going incredibly deep. He groaned in your ear and you gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. Your orgasm washed over you, leaving a sticky mess on Hoshina’s lap. He assured you that it’d just be a bit more. He pumped into your overly sensitive cunt and you felt him throb inside of you. Hoshina bit down on your shoulder, muffling his moan as he finished.

You panted heavily, looking at the bite he’d left on you. It matched the red crescent shaped marks on his shoulders. You smiled, knowing you had marked him up thoroughly. Hoshina licked the wound softly and pulled out of you, laying you down on the bed. Your lips met in a warm kiss as you began to relax in each other’s embrace.

The two of you cleaned up and crawled under the covers, spending the night in comforting arms once again. Hoshina hugged you from behind, his arms draped around your waist and his face pressed into your nape. He placed a kiss just below your ear as you began to feel drowsy.

“G’night, see ya tomorrow”, he whispered. You loved how gentle he could be, you loved his voice, you loved his jokes and you loved…

Fuck, you loved him. You truly loved Hoshina.

“I can’t wait”, you said with all your heart. But worry grew in your chest, could you ever tell him how you felt without messing it up?

'Hoshina didn’t think it’d turn out like this. Oh, who was he kidding? He should have known from the moment he kissed you, that he wouldn’t be satisfied with just hooking up. It was getting harder to ignore these feelings, to not want to jeopardize your whole relationship.

You were a formidable officer and a competent leader. You were always down to joke with him and not afraid to tease him back. Whenever he touched the marks you’d left on him, his chest would feel warm. It was like you’d marked him as yours.

He wanted to be yours and he wanted you to be his just as much. He loved your smile, your laugh and how you’d hold him. He craved you, he wanted to make you happy and to have you by his side.

“This just came in today”, Captain Ashiro said as she studied the document in front of her.

“What is it?” Hoshina asked, snapping out of it and smiling like he always did.

“A transfer request, another division is asking to recruit the Commander”, she said. Hoshina’s heart dropped at the news. Someone wanted to have you transferred to their team, away from him.

“Which division?” He questioned. The Captain handed him the paper.

“The Sixth Division”, she stated. Hoshina’s grip on the document tightened, curling the edges. Sure enough, it was a transfer request with your name on it. And his older brother’s neat signature at the bottom. He couldn’t help but grit his teeth. Hoshina wanted nothing more than to rip the paper to shreds and throw it in the garbage. He wouldn’t let Soichiro have you, he’d never let it happen.

But it wasn’t like he could just keep you from accepting the offer, he wasn’t your Vice-Captain. This was up to you and who was he to get in the way of your career as a commander? It wouldn’t be fair to keep you if you wanted to leave. He handed the paper back, the Captain looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re acting like they have already accepted it, maybe you should hurry up and confess to them”, Ashiro sighed as she smoothed out the document.

Hoshina was dumbfounded, had he really been that obvious this whole time? There was no point in denying it though, he had to face it, especially now. If he didn’t make a move, there was a chance you’d slip away from him. He couldn’t bear the thought of that.

“What’s the plan?” Kikoru asked the other officers. The Commander’s entire platoon was here, along with some of the Third Division officers.

“Well the goal of Operation Cupid is to get them together”, an officer from the other team spoke.

“That’s still a stupid name”, Iharu commented, earning an eye roll.

“Jealousy is a great motivator, who’s willing to flirt with the Vice Captain?” The officer asked, looking around the table. She was met with complete silence from both teams.

“How about your Commander?” Minase asked. “That’s not me volunteering to do it though”, she quickly added.

“It's too weird for any one of us to do it, it'd be like flirting with your older sibling”, an officer said, shaking his head. Kikoru looked over at Kafka with crossed arms.

“Hey, I’m not doing it, I’d like to live!”, the man exclaimed, putting his hands up defiantly.

“I think we need a new plan”, Reno sighed.

You uneasily paced through the halls of the Tachikawa base. Your limit has been reached, you needed to tell Hoshina how you felt or it’d tear you apart. Today was an odd one though, your platoon was acting strange, randomly embracing you with exaggerated somber looks on their faces. You awkwardly patted the back of one of your officers as he sniffled.

“I’m going to miss you so much”, he spoke into your shoulder.

“Okay, but the vending machines are just over in the courtyard, I’m not going far” You said, were they pulling some kind of prank? Truth be told, whatever this was, it was funny to watch their bad acting so you didn’t question it. It did get your mind off things.

You waved goodbye to Minase, who had grabbed your hands and thanked you for all the training tips you’d given her. Even the Third Division was acting like this. The courtyard was empty though, but the silence didn’t give you much peace. You sat down on the bench and opened your canned coffee, a second can next to you. If all went according to the plan you didn’t have, you could talk to Hoshina in the evening.

You had to, you didn’t want to keep doing this when you longed for something more. Maybe you were being selfish, he didn’t owe you anything. If he didn’t accept your confession then that was that and hopefully you could still be…just friends.

“They’re bein’ so weird today”, a voice spoke and you looked up to see Hoshina standing by the vending machine. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d arrived, too in your own head. You focused on your can, taking a sip before answering him. No way you could face him right now.

“Tell me about it, I’ve gotten so many hugs”, you said, chuckling lightly. Hoshina sat down beside you and you offered him the other coffee.

“I’ve seen ya get so many hugs, ya really don’t know what this is about?” He asked you, opening his drink. You shook your head, looking over at him. Did he look…tense? The stillness of his shoulders and expression looked out of place on him, you didn’t like it.

“I have no idea, maybe they got into community theater?” You said, smiling at him and hoping it’d make him forget whatever was bothering him. Hoshina sipped the coffee and put the can down on the bench.

“They’re really bad at it then”, Hoshina snickered, though he turned to look you in the eye. Maybe it was now or never, the two of you were alone after all and you felt ready.

“I think we need to talk-”.

“We have to talk”.

The two of you stared at each for a moment, you rubbed the back of your neck. It seemed like you both needed to get something off your chest. What could he want to talk about?

“You can go first”, Hoshina spoke, his expression strained. You took a breath and turned to face him, leaning closer.

“I…” you clutched the can in your hand, your knuckles turning white, this was it. “I love you, Soshiro, I have for a long time and I wasn’t sure if I could keep going like this if I didn’t-”, your oncoming nervous rant was cut off by Hoshina.

He closed the distance between you and pressed your lips together. You were shocked, but only for a moment, you melted into the kiss, threading your free hand into his hair. Hoshina sighed into the kiss. His hand went to your nape, rubbing circles into your skin as you kissed. When you pulled away he smiled, not the usual grin he wore, but a true, happy smile.

“That’s so unfair, I wanted to say it first”, he beamed and you couldn’t help but let out a relieved laugh. He loved you too.

“Well then you better get to it”, you teased, putting down your drink. Hoshina answered by embracing you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I love ya, I’ve loved ya for so long it was driving me up the wall”, he whispered, words just for you to hear.

Hoshina grabbed your hand when you walked back into the building. Holding hands while walking through halls made you feel giddy. You couldn’t help the smile on your face as the two of you walked into the cafeteria. Both a handful of Third Division officers and your platoon were gathered there, a few of them audibly gasping when they saw you.

“Alright everyone, what was all that bad acting about?” Hoshina asked and you chuckled.

“Mission failed successfully!” Iharu announced, followed by cheers from the others.

After explaining what they had been trying to do, everyone was given push-ups for trying to trick you.

“I still think Captain Ashiro was in on it”, you stated as you entered the break room, putting down the cake box. You sat next to Hoshina, who proceeded to put an arm around you. Being affectionate in public like this made your face heat up, but you were so happy that you could do it now.

“What makes ya say that?” He asked, using his free hand to pour the both of you some coffee. You hummed in response as you leaned against his shoulder.

“Because I rejected that transfer request yesterday”, you stated, opening the box to reveal mont blanc and a slice of shortcake. Hoshina halted in his movements, his eyes widening a bit at your confession.

“Oh, I didn’t know that”, he said. You turned to face him and placed a light kiss on his cheek.

“I’d have to leave my platoon behind and…”, you said and cuddled closer to him “I’d have to leave this behind”. Hoshina smiled, kissing your forehead.

“I’m happy ya chose to stay here, I really didn’t wanna let ya go”, he said, your heartbeat quickened, damn him, he knew how to make you flustered.

“This is your favorite, right?” You asked as you put the cakes onto a plate. Hoshina nodded and took the spoon you offered him.

“I like mont blancs, though I couldn’t eat them all the time”, he answered, tasting the dessert with a pleased hum.

“I get it, there’s really nothing you can eat a lot and not get tired of”, you said as you dug your fork into your slice. You paused for a second, before grinning at him. You spread your legs slightly and successfully caught his eye, you crossed them again. “Well, almost nothing”, you laughed, shooting him a wink. Hoshina’s hand slid down from your shoulder to your waist and you sighed in delight.

“Careful, maybe I’ll crave some of that later”, he warned, taking another bite of his dessert and making a show out of licking his lips.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time”, you said as you took a forkful of cake, “Do you want some? Say ah”, you said as you put the fork by his mouth. Hoshina answered with a laugh, that cute laugh you loved so much.

“A day into dating and you’re already pullin’ out the clichés”, he said as he kept snickering. But he ended up taking the bite, running his tongue over the points of the fork, licking up whipped cream as he looked into your eyes. You averted your gaze, suddenly feeling very warm despite the break room AC. “What are ya actin’ like that for? Can’t take what ya dish out?” He teased you as he took another spoonful of mont blanc.

You turned and caught his lips, pushing him up against the back of the couch. When you pulled away, you caressed his neck with a smile, seeing a hint of a purple mark.

“You’re right, mont blancs are good”, you said, recalling the sweet taste on his lips.

You realized something as you sat leaned against Hoshina’s chest.

“Hey…isn’t this technically our first date?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He put down his coffee mug and hummed in thought.

“Huh, I guess it is, we really got the order wrong”, he said as he grinned. You rolled your eyes and found his hand, holding it gently.

“We did, but I’m glad we ended up like this after all”, you said. Hoshina cupped your cheek and your lips met in a tender kiss.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way”. You heard his heart thump against his chest, the joyful beat of it matching your own.

#kaiju no. 8 #hoshina #hoshina soshiro #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #kaiju no 8 fic #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no 8 smut #hoshina soshiro smut #monster no 8 #kn8 x reader #kn8

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humansofnewyork · 1 year ago

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(1/54) “We begin in darkness. A siren screams. The invaders come from the desert in a cloud of dust. The king gathers his army at a mountain castle. A single battle decides our fate. The battle burns, the din of drums, the clash of axes, the spark of swords. The dirt turns clay with blood. The sun goes down on a fallen flag. The day is lost. The king is gone. Our people are left defenseless. The only weapon we have left is our voice. So they come for our words. Scholars are murdered, books are burned, entire libraries are turned to dust. Until nothing remains. Not even memories of who we were. Silence. The sun comes up on a knight galloping across the land. He summons the teachers, the scholars, the authors, the thinkers. He tells them to gather the words that remain: the books, the scrolls, the letters, the verses. Everything that escaped the burning pits. Then he summons the sages. The keepers of our oldest myths, from before the written word. He copies their stories onto the page. Then when all has been gathered, all of the words, only then does he summon a poet. It had to be a poet. Because poetry is music. It sinks into the memory. And in this land of endless war, the only safe library is the memory of the people. It is said that at any given time there are one hundred thousand poets in Iran, but only one is chosen. A single poet, for a sacred mission. Put it all in a poem. Everything they’re trying to destroy. The entire story of our people. Our kings. Our queens. Our castles. Our banquets. Our songs and celebrations. Our goblets filled with wine. Our roasted kebabs. Our moonlit gardens. Our caravans of riches: silken carpets, amber, musk, goblets filled with diamonds, goblets filled with rubies, goblets filled with pearls. Our mountains. Our rivers. Our soil. Our borders. Our battles. Our crumbled castles. Our fallen flags. Our blood. Who we were. Who we were! Our culture. Our wisdom. Our choices. And our words. All of our words. Three thousand years of words, a castle of words! That no wind or rain will destroy! However long it takes, put it all in a poem. All of Iran, in a single poem. A torch to rage against the night! A voice to echo in the dark.”

در تاریکی آغاز می‌کنیم. بانگ آژیری برمی‌خیزد. غارتگران بیابانی در هاله‌ای از گرد و غبار فرا می‌رسند. شاهنشاه سپاهیانش را پیرامون کاخی کوهستانی گرد می‌آورد. تک‌نبردی سرنوشت‌ساز است. سوزندگی‌های نبرد، بانگ کوس و درا‌ها، چکاچاک تبرها، درخشش شمشیرها. خاکِ آغشته به خون گِل می‌شود. خورشید درفش افتاده‌‌ را به شب می‌سپارد. نبرد از دست رفته است. پادشاه نیز رفته است. و مردمان بی‌دفاع مانده‌اند. اینک سخن، تنها جنگ‌افزار ماست. زین روست که بر واژگان‌مان می‌تازند. دانشمندان را می‌کشند، کتاب‌ها را می‌سوزانند، کتابخانه‌ها را با خاک یکسان می‌کنند آنچنان که هیچ نمانَد. حتا یادمانی از آن که بوده‌ایم. خاموشی. خورشید بر سواری که در سرتاسر زمین می‌تازد ‌پرتوافشان است. اوست که آموزگاران را فرا می‌خواند، دانشمندان را، نویسندگان را، اندیشمندان را. و از آنان می‌خواهد تا همه‌ی واژگانِ بازمانده را فراهم آورند. کتاب‌ها، طومارها، نامه‌ها، سروده‌‌ها. و هر آنچه از شراره‌های سوزان آتش دور مانده است. آنگاه فرزانگان را فرا می‌خواند. نگهبانان اسطوره‌های کهن، از پیشین زمان. داستان‌هاشان را بر برگ‌ها می‌نویسند. با فراهم آمدن این همه، هنگام آن رسیده است تا سراینده‌ای توانا بالا برافرازد، نیزه‌ی قلم برگیرد، سروده‌های آهنگینش را چنان بر دل‌ها نشاند که در یادها بمانند. در این سرزمینِ جنگ‌های بی‌پایان، تنها کتابخانه‌ی امن، خاطره‌ی مردمان است. گویند سدهزار شاعر همزمان در ایران می‌زیند ولی تنها یکی‌ست که از پس این کار سترگ برمی‌آید. تک‌شاعری، برای کوششی سپنتا. کسی که همه‌ی واژگان را در شعرش بگنجاند! گنجینه‌ای دور از دستبُرد آنان که در پی نابودی‌اش هستند. دربرگیرنده‌ی داستان مردمان‌مان. پادشاهان‌مان. شهبانوان‌مان. کاخ‌هامان. سرودها و بزم‌هایمان. جام‌های پر از باده‌مان. کباب‌های بریان‌مان. باغ‌های مهتابی‌مان. کاروان‌های کالاهای گرانبها: فرش‌های ابریشمین‌, عنبر، مُشک، پیمانه‌های پر از الماس، پیمانه‌های پر از یاقوت، پیمانه‌های پر از مروارید. کوهستان‌مان. رود‌هامان. خاک‌مان. مرزهامان. نبردهامان. باروهای ویران‌مان. درفش‌های بر خاک‌افتاده‌مان. خون‌مان. که بوده‌ایم. که بوده‌ایم! فرهنگمان. خِرَدمان. گزینه‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌هامان. و واژگان‌مان. همه‌ی واژگان‌مان. هزاران سال واژه، کاخی از واژگان که از باد و باران نیابد گزند! هر اندازه زمان ببرد.همه را در شعرش بگنجاند. همه‌ی ایران را، در سُرودی یگانه. مشعلی خروشنده در سیاهی شب! پژواک بلند و پرطنین آوایی در تاریکی

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not-neverland06 · 5 months ago

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Crash of Worlds

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Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The Ghoul x fem!reader A/N: After this there’s gonna be more canon divergence - this one’s short (rope divider done by @saradika-graphics , cowboy hat/revolvers done by @firefly-graphics) Summary: You’d been expecting everything to be different, people, to be different. But not like this. Not to such an extreme extent. Maybe the vault had softened you more than you’d have liked but there was nothing to do about it now.

The green canopy of the forest provides a welcome relief from the heat. You and Lucy follow the signs pointing the way to Filly. You hear it before you ever get to see it. There’s a distant sound of yelling and the murmur of people. It has your heart clenching in your chest.

You’re outside, breathing in real air, not oxygen from tanks. You can feel the breeze in your hair and hear people. It’s all you wanted for three years. Bud prepared you for a lot. But he didn’t prepare you for just how jarring it is to wake up and suddenly everything you’ve ever known is gone. You don’t feel the years you’ve been asleep. It was like it happened yesterday.

But you’ve had three years to come to peace with what had happened. You can’t let yourself get wrapped up in this feeling of nostalgia. The raiders that came down to the vault were proof enough that the people you’re going to meet up here aren’t going to be anywhere near friendly. You know this world has turned into dog-eat-dog, Lucy doesn’t yet, though.

She walks towards a large grove of abandoned cars. The paint has flaked off and the glass smashed in, but they’re not in horrible condition for being two hundred odd years old. You're distracted by the convertible she stands next to and you gasp.

You rush forward, hand smoothing over the hood and grinning at the familiar feel. “I-”

You cut yourself off abruptly and Lucy looks over at you, a curious smile on her face. “What is it?”

You shake your head, “Nothing. Just excited to see civilization again.” You give her a terse smile, hoping she doesn’t smell the lie. You’d almost said that it was exactly like your old car. But that would have opened up a can of worms you weren’t ready for.

She groans, linking her arm through yours and nodding. “I know, me too. The surface is definitely not what I was expecting.”

You sigh, glancing back at the car before stepping towards Filly. “Yeah, me either.”

The noise reaches a crescendo as you finally manage to make your way into the market. There’s still signs directing you further through the woods so you figure this must not be Filly yet. Probably just a little place where people tried to peddle junk.

A man lurches out at you holding out a kebab and grinning widely. “DOG MEAT!” You jump back in shock as he screams in your face. His eyes are unseeing as he waves the kebab around. “GET YOUR DOGMEAT HERE!”

“Oh, what the fuck?” You mutter, you didn’t mean dog-eat-dog literally. You notice you and Lucy getting odd looks and you finally realize just how much the two of you stand out. In comparison, you're both well groomed and much cleaner than anyone here.

Not only that but you’ve got the stupid Pip-Boy’s on your arm and vault suits on. You’re walking advertisements of “Come rob me!” You steer Lucy further through the market, narrowly avoiding a lizard meat stall and dragging her towards a tunnel at the end of the path. Filly’s just beyond and you shove her through the opening, eager to get somewhere where you might be able to find something useful.

You seperate with the promise to meet back up in the middle of the town square. You’re going to look for something to change into and she’ll find some information on her father. Should be easy enough.

He’s not supposed to be here. He’d gotten himself and all of his kind banned a long time ago. An impressive feat, considering how lawless Filly is. But no one’s going to say anything to him, no one ever has before.

Any other ghoul and they would have been dragged right back out before they could even put a foot through the tunnel. But he’s not any ghoul, he’s the ghoul. And no one in their right mind is going to be the one to start a fight they’ve got no fucking hope of winning.

He rolls the empty vial of RadAway around in his hand, hat tipped down as he waits for his mark to show up. Ma June, cantankerous old bitch that she is, always has good supplies. But she doesn’t sell to ghouls, and if he didn’t need her alive right now he would have shot her for turning him away. She’s a well known fence for fugitives and bounties. If his mark is going to show up anywhere, it’s going to be right here.

Most of the people who try their hand at bounty hunting do it for the experience. They get bored, not that he can fucking blame them. After a while staring at nothing but sand and chickens makes a man go a little crazy. They don’t understand that it’s all a waiting game.

Sometimes it’s an exhilarating chase, like a predator tracking down its prey. But more often than not he’s just waiting for a slip up. A mistake from whoever has a price on their head is usually what lands them in his hands. And the second this man decided to use Ma June as a transport was when he made his mistake. Everyone knows that Barv can’t keep her mouth shut for shit.

When someone decides Ma June can help them, everyone knows where they are. It’s a big bounty, enough to keep anyone with a normal life cycle sated for the rest of their life. For him, it’s all about the hunt. The wait, that look in their eyes when they realize they're trapped and there’s nowhere left for them to turn. He loves it when he’s got them cornered.

There’s a desperation to them that makes the capture all the more sweeter.

There’s two bright flashes of blue against the otherwise dreary countenance of Filly. He doesn’t look up much, still trying not to draw too much attention to himself. He sees one, brown hair and wide eyed as she takes in the sights. Fucking vaulties.

It’s been a while since he’s taken one of their bounties. Their tech was pretty valuable among surface dwellers and when one was spotted, which was rare, there was usually a good price on their head. He can only catch the back of the other one, her face blocked by a conveniently placed support beam next to him.

She stops by the clothing stall, waving her friend along and speaking to the woman who runs the booth. Good fucking luck to her. There was no haggling with that woman and her prices were fucking ridiculous. He wonders how long it will be until he sees those two on the poster in some bar somewhere. He’s sure when the time comes, he’ll enjoy taking them too.

His gaze goes back to Ma June’s shop, interest already waned in the rare vault dweller. They were never all that fun. Never had any good information and always had a stick up their ass about morals and being a “good” person.

Finally, his mark turns up. Blind to the danger lurking behind him.

You’re in a really shitty spot when the fighting starts. You’re overwhelmed by everything around you. Freaks in wacky ass clothes peddling their mutated animals and fucking teeth. Teeth.

Teeth and bottle caps, that’s the currency now. Who decided that bottle caps were a good idea? Or teeth for that matter. You’ve only got so many of them. You don’t even want to think about what they’re getting used for.

The woman in front of you only has four of her own left and she’s demanding three of yours for a shirt. You’re not well versed in the economy of the wasteland, but even you’re sure that three teeth is a ridiculous ask. From the way people keep glaring at you as they walk by, you’re sure that she thinks because you’re from a vault you’re going to be gullible.

You’re too caught up in your quickly escalating argument to realize what’s happening until it’s too late. A man stands in the center of the square, his back to you. You can tell from your view that he’s pretty badly burned, the skin around his neck and skull warped and twisted.

He’s yelling about a bounty and your head tilts in confusion. There’s something to the lilt of that accent that sounds familiar. You take a step forward, abandoning the clothing stall and trying to place how you know him. It’s impossible, really, that anyone recognizable would still be alive. But maybe someone else got out of a vault and made it to the surface. If they did, it clearly wasn’t unscathed.

It’s only when he pulls out his gun that you realize Lucy is standing in front of him, with the man that bothered her last night. You want to call out her name, try and catch her eye, but the last thing you need is him pointing that gun at you. You jump back in shock as he shoots the man’s foot off, eyes widening, and feet scrambling backwards.

The woman in the clothing stall hisses, “Fucking ghoul,” and makes a run for it. You watch her go, finally realizing just how empty the square is now. Everyone has left, all of them terrified by the man in black. Your eyes dart between him and the stall.

She’s gone, and you need clothes. You’ll deal with Lucy’s scolding later. You leap over the counter of the stall and begin to rifle through the woman’s stock. Stuffing any spare clothes you think will fit into your pack and just because she was such a horrid bitch, you steal her bag of caps too.

The crazy old lady by the shop screams out a reward for anyone who manages to kill the man in front of you. When the guns start going off you realize just how screwed you are. You’re in the middle of the town square. Granted, you are blocked by the clothing stall, but these bullets they’re using aren’t ordinary.

They’re getting holes blown clean through their chest and the buildings around them are damn near exploding from the impact. The measly little wooden stall isn’t going to be any sort of decent cover against them.

You risk another look over the counter, hoping to find a clear path to Lucy or at least some better cover. He’s finally turned around now and you can get a half decent glance at his side profile. There’s nothing truly recognizable about him, just familiar. It’s hard to really tell anything about him when he doesn’t have a nose.

You watch with wide eyes and a disbelieving expression as he takes three shots to the chest like it’s nothing. He keeps chewing on his tomatoes and slowly finding cover to reload. A ghoul. Hank and Betty had told you and the other’s about them. People poisoned by radiation.

Most of them turn feral, but those who can find the right chems live a lot longer than any normal human should. They heal nearly immediately and are almost invulnerable to anything except their own disease. Considering how quick on the draw this guy is, no one has any real hope of taking him down.

With the shooting redirected you leap out from behind the counter and rush towards the shop. But something stops you before you reach the door. You don’t know what it is, what connects in your brain that has you so harshly coming to a stop.

You whirl around, ignoring the way Lucy calls out your name. He’s back out from his cover now. He aims, grinning and laughing as he manages to get two people with one bullet. Carnage is all around you. Blood flying through the air, surrounded by blood and guts. The relatively peaceful downtown has been littered with dead.

And in the middle of it all stands him. You have to be wrong. There’s no fucking way he’s standing in front of you. You take a step forward and his head whips towards you. The rest of him isn’t recognizable, but you would know those eyes anywhere.

His eyes widen with surprise and you feel your gut drop to your feet. This can’t be him. There’s no way. He’s slaughtering these people like it’s nothing. The man you knew could never be so casual about this. Then again, the relationship you’d had was built on lies. Maybe you’d never really known him.

Before you can process the anger in his face you’re being jerked to the side. Lucy pants as she drags you into the shop and you look over your shoulder, shocked to find a bullet where you’d just been standing. You catch his eye, see the smoke coming from the barrel of his gun and realize he’d tried to fucking shoot you.

Shit, maybe it is him. He had always had a bad temper and a good aim.

You can feel his eyes, tracking you even as you disappear behind the walls of the shop. You and Lucy risk a peek out of the shop when you hear something like an explosion. You gape as a power suit lands in front of him. What twisted ass blast to the past have you just been sent to?

How the fuck was Cooper Howard, ghoulified, and a power suit both in the same area?

You had to be dreaming. There was no way this was happening. But it was, and whoever was in charge of that suit had no idea what they were doing. He’s ducking under their swinging metal arms, taunting them and drawing out the fight. He could end this now, you both know where the weakness is.

Hell, you could end this fight right now. But you don’t see the need to kill the Knight when it’s clear he’s trying to protect you and Lucy. “We need to get him,” Lucy points frantically to the man on the ground. He’s not really moving, just clutching the bloody nub where his foot used to be and looking astonished at the blood around him.

“This is really stupid,” you hiss as you both start forward and wrap an arm around one of his own. You don’t have much time to process what happens next.

“Watch out!” The knight barrels towards you both. He wraps his arms around Lucy and goes flying into a building. You jump back at the explosion of wood and metal flying down around you. The ghoul has his gun pointed at them both. He’d clearly been trying to snipe you both, get you away from the man on the ground.

Well, he could fucking have him. You drop the man to the ground and he grunts as you make a run for it. A coward’s move, the same one you admonished Norm for. But, you’re a fucking hypocrite, so what? Right now, you’d really just like to survive this gun fight unscathed.

Something lands near your foot and you jump, realizing it’s a bullet. You glance up and the ghoul is laughing at you, full on belly laughing as he shoots around you. You realize with a start that he’s playing with you. Taunting you like a man who’s got all the time in the world. But you can’t stop running. If you stop, those bullets are going to catch up with you.

You keep going, legs pumping and heart racing as you’re separated more and more from Lucy. The mission, the whole reason you came up to the surface, is lost on you. You can only focus on one thing, surviving. You keep running, through alleyways and around buildings until you’re back in the woods. The whole time his laughter is following you.

The sharp noise of something whistling through the air reaches your ears and then something snaps against you. You glance down, only a moment to process the rope over your arms before he’s dragging you back. Your head hits the ground with a harsh snap, the motion slamming your teeth together and nearly biting off the tip of your tongue.

You groan in dazed pain and then he’s slowly dragging you back. One sharp tug after another, rocks ripping at your suit and scalp, hair ripped out underneath your back. Until, finally, he’s peering over you, face upside down and lips twisted up into a strained smile.

“Well, there you are, sweetheart.”

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #fallout prime #the ghoul #cooper howard #I’ve been noticing a lot less interaction on my page #What the hell tumblr #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x fem!reader #cooper howard x fem!reader

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bloodyknucklesforme · 2 years ago

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141 Restaurant AU

Price owns it and is the head chef. He's ex-military and with how he runs his kitchen there's no mistaking it. This is his 'relaxing' retirement job.

He doesn't yell but does expect order and speed. If you're working in his kitchen it means he thinks you're good at it, he doesn't put up with self-doubt.

Kate Laswell is the day-to-day manager who handles any annoying customers and the business side of things. You can earn bonus points by bringing her a drink to her office.

Simon Riley is the sous chef. He's been wearing a black face mask since before the pandemic.

Got the nickname Ghost because no one ever sees him arrive or leave. He's also ex-military, or that's what everyone thinks. If you ask, he changes his answer every time (think of that scene from Ratatouille).

Is normally very quiet and keeps to himself but also physically threw a customer out when they screamed in a server's face over not being able to order a medium-rare salmon filet.

Kyle Garrick is the host. If he likes you, he'll make sure you always get a booth. If you annoy him, you're getting sat by the kitchen, the front door, or the bathrooms.

He's very sweet to new servers and is willing to cover for you in forget to put something in.

John MacTavish is the bartender. Constant flirt and gets the best tips in the place. Will make your after-shift drink a double if you ask nicely.

Got the nickname Soap after he put dish soap in a mop bucket for the floors. No one will ever let him live it down.

You can always ask him for advice on wine pairings.

Farah and Alex used to work in the kitchen but left to start a halal food truck together. Has the best lamb kebabs in the city. When they ever stop by they eat on the house.

Rudy and Alejandro run the bakery that provides the restaurant with all its bread and desserts.

Rudy will leave a pastry in the cooler for you if it's your birthday. If Alejandro likes you he'll give you a whole cake on your birthday.

Graves runs an 'authentic' Mexican restaurant down the street. It's actually Texmex (and honestly it's pretty good) which causes arguments every time Alejandro and he talk.

#Ghost has scary line cook privilege #resturant au #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #captain john price #task force 141 #cod imagines #kyle gaz garrick #kate laswell #farah karim #alejandro vargas #might expand on this later #philip graves

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Hunter's Delight

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, violence, blood, coercion, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A peaceful getaway turns to horror when you encounter a strange man in the woods.

Character: Kraven the Hunter

Note: So, this isn't what I was planning as my birthday fic but my other fic was just not happening lol.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The smell of cedar tinges the air. Birds wing across the pale blue sky and critters rustle in the twigs and leaves that trim the forest floor. Shadows nestle between the trunks and lend an ominous hue to any otherwise harmonious landscape.

It’s a long needed escape from urban crush. The fatigue of your nine to five recedes as your brief getaway frees you of the unseen cuffs of modern survival. There are no emails, no memos, or stuffy meetings. There is only you and naked outdoors.

Oh, and your friends.

You never traveled much. Most of the time you had off, you were too tired to do much more than the bare minimum. You hadn’t even thought of it until Larissa invited you. It just never occurred to you to spend the money or the energy. Now you’re more than happy you did.

You follow the snakish path that dips between valleys and over hills, up steep walkways and across sprawling plateaus. The lush green is endless, littered with patches of thick forest, and the occasion running river crested by an old wooden bridge.

Larissa chatters loudly about your eventual return to the cottage. She dreams of kebabs cooked over the campfire and some fruity sangria. You trail the others, four of you in all. Jodi and Cameron ahead of you as your host leads the way. Work friends, but you suppose more now that you’re here.

The river water sends up a fresh scent from behind the looming trunks and you glance over at the gleaming ripples, almost twinkling as you admire them between the trees. You could do this every day. Just wander until you can’t move anymore.

“I can’t believe this is your first time up north,” Jodi says, drawing you from your mind.

“Uh, yeah, never did much exploring I guess,” you shrug.

“Even as a kid?”

“Nope. I think we had one family trip and we didn’t even make it to the amusement park,” you chuckle dryly, “ah well.”

“Ugh, I remember one time, when we were camping, my brother, Toby,” Cameron begins, “he put a frog in my bag. I screamed so loud. My mother didn’t even believe me.”

“Damn,” you remark. Cam tends to do that. Everything in some way relates back to one of her stories.

“Oh, I have an idea,” Larissa stops and faces you, “we have to decide who’s cooking.”

“It’s fine, I said I would–” You begin.

“Boo, that’s no fun,” she snips, “we used to play this game when I was a kid. I always won. Whoever collects the least acorns in ten minutes cooks.”

“Acorns?” You look around nervously. “Where?”

“You shouldn’t get lost. If you go too far, just stay still and we’ll find you,” she brushes off your concern, “it’ll be fun. And I know all the best spots!”

“That’s no fair,” Jodie pouts.

“How about I start after you. I’ll only do five minutes,” she barters.

“How do we know time’s up?” Cam picks a fingernail.

“Like I said, if you don’t show up, we’ll come find you.”

“I guess…”

“Alright, how about, whoever collects the most gets princess treatment for the night. The rest of us will have to serve you drinks and get you whatever you want,” she offers with a smug grin.

You bite your lip but don’t argue. It’s obvious she’s going to win but you wouldn’t mind the chance to explore a bit more. Besides, you never complain about time alone. It’s so peaceful here, that might just be a reward of its own.

“Come on!” Larissa claps, “bragging rights are included.”

“Fine,” Cameron sighs, “I guess it’s not completely stupid.”

“It’ll be fun just to wipe that look off your face, Lar,” Jodi snorts.

You shrug and give a nod. You have little faith in your foraging skills but you don’t mind running to the cooler a few extra times that night. Besides, the cottage did get a bit suffocating with all of you there. This might be your only chance for alone time.

“Alright, on three,” Larissa declares, “one, two–” Jodi sprints off and Larissa holler, “I didn’t say three!”

Cameron runs after her and Larissa scowls. She puts her hands on her hips and drags her foot over the grass. You give a sheepish smile and awkwardly sway.

“Guess they won’t know if I start early,” she says and sets off in the opposite direction.

You slowly putter away as you head for the river. You have no intent of gathering acorns, you just want to watch the water. You weave between the trees and come out to the shore along the winding river. You watch the lazy flow and the little minnows flitting beneath the clear ripples.

You get closer and sit on your knees in the dirt. You drag your hands through the water and push your fingers into the silt. You bend slightly and look at your reflection. You're almost hypnotised by the ambiance.

You close your eyes and pull your hands from the water. You place them on your shorts and take a deep breath. You want to hold onto this moment, to remember it once you're stuck back behind a keyboard.

You smile and your lashes flutter open. You see your reflection again, then it suddenly darkens as a shadow comes up behind you. At first, you’re confused, but you assume it’s one of the girls trying to scare you.

“Very funny–”

You fly forward into the water, arms flailing out as you splash into the shallow depth. Your head is pushed down to the riverbed as a foot crush your skull. You cough and gag, gulping down water as your breath bubbles out of your nose. Your head begins to thrum as you choke until at last, the weight relents and you rip your head from beneath the surface.

A sharp boot cracks into your ribs and sends you onto your back. You heave as you land flat, keeping your head just above the water. A man stands above you, crystal blue eyes boring into you as a growl creases in his forehead. He squats and grabs your chin, unsheathing a large knife from his belt.

“Scream and I’ll cut your throat out,” he warns as he pokes the knife tip along your lip, hushing you as he turns it slowly.

You shut your mouth, eyes rounding in terror as you watch him. Who is he? What does he want? You can’t let him know about the other girls. At least, you hope he doesn’t already.

“Listen to me,” he traces along your jaw and down to your throat, “you will do exactly as I say.”

You blink, saying nothing. His voice is gristly and unbending. His dark hair curls behind his head and he wears a thick beard that thins to coarse stubble. Around his neck is a thick cord with a single fang hanging from it.

Your eyes nearly cross as you try to see the knife in his hand..

“Gold locket. Pearl set in the middle. Bring it to me.”

You stare at him searchingly. It’s like he’s speaking another language. Or your brain just won’t hear them as fear courses through your veins.

“She wears it around her neck.”

You see the golden chain around Larissa’s neck. You noticed it once or twice, never really thinking much of it. You just thought it must be sentimental. Your lip trembles as the man clutches the back of your neck and leans into the blade.

“Why?”

He chuckles, “you want to live. I can feel it. So no more questions and I might let you. The locket, midnight. I will wait here. If you do not come, I will come to you. And you can weep with their heads in your bed.”

You gulp as he smirks at you. You nod slowly as he loosens his grip. He releases you. You almost sink back under the water as he stands and you push yourself up. He swirls the thick knife then holds it up to reflect the sunlight.

“Such a beautiful day, it would be a pity if it were to end in blood.”

“I will bring you the locket. I promise.”

“I know you will,” he says as he struts towards the trees, “it is why I chose you.”

You sit dumbfounded, staring after him until you can see nothing but the trees. You shiver as the water stirs calmly around you, soaking you through to the point of discomfort. You climb out of the river and wrings out the fabric of your shirt.

As you look around at the serenity of the pastoral bliss, you can’t fathom that the man had ever truly been there. The tenderness in your neck assures you otherwise. He was and he will be back.

☀️

“What happened to you?” Cameron giggles as you appear from the trees.

“No acorns, huh?” Jodi boasts.

“I uh… dropped them in the river. Tripped,” you lie. You’re too stunned to explain further.

“You okay?” Larissa asks.

“Yep, fine,” you utter.

“Well, Jodi got eleven and Cameron got eight, and I… got twelve.”

“Cheater,” Jodi mutters under her breath.

You’re thankful they’re too distracted by their child’s game to be very concerned. You throw up your hands. “Looks like I’m cooking,” you resign dully.

“And I get to be pampered,” Larissa trills tauntingly.

“Whatever. You’ll be lucky if I don’t dump the sangria on you,” Cameron warns.

Larissa laughs. The girls might play up their cattiness but it’s just friendly competition. Another thing you never really had growing up. Friends.

They leave the acorns in the grass. You’re quiet as you follow them onwards. You look back just before you’re out of sight of the river. You don’t see the man but you have no doubt he meant what he said. He knew about Larissa and the necklace, that’s enough for you.

🌄

As a gracious loser, and a terrified individual, you volunteer to make a pitcher of sangria for the other girls. They happily accept the offer and go out to get the fire started. The night is quickly setting in as you watch the time on your phone. As there is only one solar charger amongst the bunch of you, your battery stays at fifty percent. Without reception, it isn’t of much use anyhow.

You mix the wine, brandy, lemonade and fruit together with a wooden spoon. You hear Larissa giving orders outside over the crackle of the fire. The locket with the pearl. You know she’s still wearing it, you looked for it and there it was, around her neck. What use is jewelry all the way up here.

Your thoughts are split by the snap of the spring door. Jodi tramps inside and huffs.

“Is the wine ready yet? She’s driving me nuts.”

“I’ll bring it out,” you assure her, “why don’t you grab the kebabs, they’re ready to go.”

You nod to the pan of skewers and she lets out a disappointed grumble. She takes the pan and leaves you again to ponder your impromptu mission. You’re not stupid enough to ask for the locket. You watch the oranges swirl in the wine mixture…

You can’t. Can you? You peek over your shoulder and peek through the window. They wouldn’t notice. You could say you used more wine than you thought.

You turn your back to the window. The girls can survive a few bendaryls, they won’t survive that man and his knife. You can deal with hating yourself. That’s never been hard.

You tiptoe across the kitchen. You don’t know why you think they’ll hear you, your guilt just makes you paranoid. You go down to the room and search in the lower bunk for your bag. You take out your box of emergency benadryl and slide out a full insert. Just enough for an edge, nothing deadly.

You sneak back out and drop the pills one by one into the sangria. You stir and you stir and you stir. Finally, you’re content that your potion is complete. Your curse is pharmaceutical allergy relief with a side of drowsiness. The girls are probably too thirsty to notice you’re not sharing.

🌙

Jodi stumbles back from the outhouse. You watch her cautiously, ready to hop up and catch her. She manages to make her way back to the fire and falls into the folding chair with a burp.

“Damn, that sangria is strong,” Cameron chimes.

“And it’s going right through me,” Jodi slurs into a giggle.

“Me too,” Larissa stands up and puts her hands in front of her shorts, “my turn.”

You listen to her go around the side of the cottage, her sandals scraping and scuffling. Jodi leans her head back and snorts, waking herself and lurching forward. You get up and keep her from falling out of her chair.

“Hey, you should lay down,” you say.

“Lightweight,” Cameron teases and gulps down a mouthful. You try not to cringe.

“Whatever, I’m fine,” Jodi babbles.

“Come on,” you get her up, letting her lean on you heavily.

She’s dragging her feet as you get her across the yard and to the steps of the deck. You haul her up and through the back door. Inside, you feel her slacken on your arm until you're pretty much carrying her. You get her into her bed and roll her onto her stomach, already snoring.

You check the time. It’s late. Just after eleven.

You go back out, the blaze of the fire obscuring your view of the yard.

“Not you too,” Cameron chortles as Larissa falls past the chair trying to sit.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Bleh, listen to the office administrator, she never gives it up,” Larissa sneers, “isn’t that right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you agree softly. You want all the abuse she has to offer you. You deserve it.

“You wanted to be princess for the night,” Cameron calls over, “let her carry you to bed.”

You ignore Cameron as you steady Larissa and direct her around the fire. You take the same path with the same end, dumping her in the singular queen she claimed for herself in the main bedroom. You make sure she’s on her stomach and shake out your nerves.

You flip on the flashlight built into your phone and shine it over her. You apologise before you unclasp the necklace. It’s heavier than you expect. You tuck it in your pocket and leave her.

One more.

Cameron meets you at the door to your surprise. She’s yawning and staggering. You let her pass as she mutters about the fire. You follow her, making sure she gets to her bed before you go outside to kill the fire.

When all is dark and still, you look up at the moon and measure the journey ahead of you. What if you get lost? What if you can’t remember the way back? You think you do. Doesn’t matter. It’s almost half past and you need to get going.

You grip your phone as you come out around the front of the cottage. You remember that you came from the right… didn’t you? You turn on your flashlight again as the darkness consumes you. You tremble at the sheer endlessness of the night.

As you set off, you hear every twig snap, every branch sway, every bat squeaking from some hidden nook. You are exposed to the unseen. Easy prey.

You hear the low trickle of water, louder in the dearth of night. You use it to guide you, flinching as leaves brush against you. You shine the light around you, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings. It only illuminates the shadows and adds to the depths of the blackness.

A noise rolls in the darkness. Thunderous as it grows louder, footsteps making themselves heard, a beast closing in. His laughter comes from all around you, dizzying you as you spin and try to find him.

At once, he quiets and you hear nothing but the stirring of the breeze. No footsteps, not laughter, only the frantic beat of your heart. You stop and squint as you shakily raise your phone, making out the thick trunk of a tree.

There is a sudden warmth behind you. His hand is on yours, squeezing before he rips away your cell. You hear it land in the grass. His other arm hooks around your middle. His breath seeps through your hair and across your scalp.

“Give it.”

You reach into your pocket, squirming as you dig out the necklace. You hold it up with a whimper and he wraps your hand up in his again. His rough skin sends a shiver through you. He hums above the soft tinkle of the chain.

“Very good,” he keeps you close, “you are an obedient little pet, aren’t you?”

You don’t move, you don’t speak. He has what he wants. Now you want to go.

“I’ve decided,” he says bluntly. You hold your breath, trying to decipher his meaning. You try to pull away and his arm hooks tighter around you. “I will take you too.”

“What?” You quiver and grasp his arm, shoving on it without result, “no, let me go–”

“You can scream for me,” he walks you forward until you collide with a tree, putting your hands out to keep from being crushed against the bark, “the louder, the better.”

Your fingertips curl painfully against the tree. He traps you against the tree as he lets out a grow, the heat of his breath and body enshrines you. You shake and whine as panic sinks into your chest.

“Please, let me go. Please, I did what you asked–”

“I’m not asking,” he snarls and grabs your shoulder.

He spins you so violenly you can’t help but fall back against the tree. The subtle friction of metal on leather cools your blood as a sliver of moonlight gleans off the knife’s edge. You brace the tree as you babble dumbly. You don’t want to die.

He brings the curve tip of the knife to the hem of your shirt and yanks up, shearing open the front so that it falls open, revealing the bralette beneath. He makes as quick work as that, slicing up the middle and exposing you to the night chill.

He stands over you, bearing in on you as he bends slowly. You gasp as he clutches a handful of your hair and pulls your head to the side. He leans in and grazes your throat with his teeth. You writhe, caught in the arrest of his gruff touch.

He bits down, pinching your flesh until you cry out. He snickers and unclenches his teeth, trailing further down, teasing along your collarbone and over the tender flesh of your shoulder, once more nipping into you. He tortures your flesh, sucking it until it throbs.

He goes lower, tracing his path first with the metallic cold of the blade, then piercing with his teeth. He bites into the curve of your tit, he leaves sore marks blazing all around, at last taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around your hard bud, toying with it, sucking, flicking, until finally he bites again.

You sob as he sinks his teeth in. You feel the flesh break and the warmth trickles from you into his mouth. He hums as he drinks it in, unlatching to let your rough skin turn fiery in the open air. He tends to the next, just as cruelly, as your body wracks in shock and agony.

How can this be happening? It can’t be real. You don’t understand. Who is this man? Where did he come from? You close your eyes, trying to hide from reality as it nips at your flesh.

You drone as he leaves a trail of spit and blood down your stomach, biting again and again, a tortured trail down to the top of your denim shorts. Your legs shake, threatening to give out.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tisks and pinches your thigh, “you are weak but you will not give up, pet.”

He cuts along the seams of your shorts, left then right. You tremble with bubbling, teary gulps. The denim falls to your feet and he uses the end of his knife to play with the cotton elastic of your panties. He clicks his tongue but does not voice his amusement further.

He drops to his knees, a hand framing your hip as your legs quake. He squeezes, his thumb jabbing into your pelvis. He drags his knife down the front of your panties and hooks the fabric along the tip. He tugs until they rip, breaking through the fabric, cutting a line along your cunt.

He turns the flat of the blade against your flesh, grazing the folds before pulling it away. You bat your lashes as terror overflows. Your head lolls as your muscles twitch. You see the man’s faint shadow in the slats of moonlight breaking between the cedar trunks, you hear him lick the blade with a purr.

A silver shine reflects the eerie night glow as he raises his knife. You scream as he aims it toward you, stabbing into the wood just beside you. Your heart hammers to cacophony as he laughs at your fright.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, his calloused fingers mean against your soft skin. He feels along the shorn cotton and dips two fingers into the opening. He delves between your lips, flicking his fingers up and down your cunt. Your legs quiver and you clutch onto the divots in the bark, fighting not to fold into a heap.

He slides his fingers back and forth, feeling every part of you, doting on your clit, only to trail back to your entrance. You suck in air sharply and sob. Please just do it. Just let it be over with.

He pushes into you. Slowly, Deliberately. He leans forward and nuzzles the soft vee of hair along your cunt and sighs into you as he wiggles his fingers deeper and deeper. You groan as he stretches you. Even as your body reacts, even as the slickness welcomes the intrusion, it hurts.

He growls as he meets some resistance. You clench around his knuckles and he rams his fingers into you, to their limit. You shriek and your sandals slip in the dirt. Your nail catches in the veins of the tree and snaps.

The coolness of his tongue frightens you as it pokes out and slides along your lips. He tilts his head and glides between your folds, doting on your clit with furious flutters. You gulp and gasp, panting as a new heat blooms inside of you. Your pulse races with more than adrenaline.

He eases his fingers back then in again. Your cunt clenches around him, constricting as his tongue toys with you, flurries your nerves to an unbearable storm. Your insides clutch as rivulets of hot and cold gather in your core, mingling to a fiery roil.

You spasm, stunned by your own body. You stand on your toes as your muscles tauten and your nerves ping off each other. You cum with a raspy whine, forced over the edge by the battle of his thrusting fingers and diligent tongue.

His laughter rumbles through you as he indulges in your dissemblance. He slows as you heave helplessly. He slides his fingers out of you, leaving an emptiness there, and wipes your cum down your leg. He parts from your cunt entirely, a rocky snarl as he stands.

You smell yourself on his breath as he comes close again. He grabs the back of your neck and draws you away from the tree. Your legs tingle and shake beneath you. He turns and hurls you down to the ground. You land on your knees, hitting your elbows in the dirt.

He grabs your hips, keeping them up. He kneels behind you, one hand brushing up your back and forcing your chest down to the ground. You don’t fight him, you have nothing left.

He feels along your panties, hooking his fingers in the rent of the fabric and tears it further up your ass. He gropes you roughly, digging his nails into your skin and dragging them up, leaving hot scratches along your ass. He runs his hand from your shoulders to your hip, gripping you as his other hand retreats from your ass.

The air stills and your ears ring as each breath scalds in your chest. You stare into the deep void of the forest as his zipper splits through the silence. Time slows as dread suffocates you. This is it. This is really happening.

His fingers tickle along your ass and you twitch. He reaches your cunt, rubbing and spreading your lips, taunting you as he curves his fingers along it. He edges closer on your knees, pushing yours wider, and he pulls his hand away.

He prods you with his tip, making a slow path down to your entrance. He circles it as he groans, basking in the tension of that moment. He leans against you until his tip slips into you. You strain around him, heaving into a horrifying wail as he pushes deeper.

He reaches to your neck, pinning your face in the dirt as he jerks his hip, filling you with the single, agonizing motion. You cry out louder, your horror echoing into the sky. Your head quakes and your ears vibrate with the volume of your own grief, rising from you without restraint.

He slides back and snaps into you again. The slap of flesh underlines your breathy weeps. His weight puts an ache in your neck and down your spine. Your fingers dip into the dirt as you clutch at handfuls of dirt. He bucks again, again, again, each time growling with delight.

His palm cracks against the side of your ass, a new pain radiating through your hips. With each thrust, he smacks you, curling his nails into you, pinching, only to do it again. You whimper and wail, trapped in his fervour as you taste soil and the salt of your tears.

He bends over you, hooking his arm around your middle and the other around your neck. He sits up with you against him. His hand brushes up your side and kneads your chest as he rocks you in his lap. Your head lolls as you hiccup through your tears.

He ruts from below, splitting you in two as his muscle bulges around your neck. You wheeze as he squeezes tighter and tighter, until the world speckles to grey and black. You feel his final, jarring rams as they throb in your core, and the sudden burst of heat inside you. Almost soothing as it assures you of the end.

But it is not. He puts you on your back. Senseless, dazed, he’s on top of you, crawling over you like an animal. He fucking you against the ground, holding your leg bent against him, biting into the flesh along your shoulder. Torturing you from the inside until he’s spent again.

Not spent, not done. You’re on your side, the world flickering beneath teared-webbed lashes, each ruts shaking you. Legs together, he claps against your thighs until again he empties into you with a raucous roar.

Again, again, again. Until you’re smeared with dirt, grass, sweat, and cum. Until you’re left an empty husk across the forest floor.

Your eyelids part as he pulls the blade from the tree, a softer light emanating from the sky as the dawn approaches. He sheathes the knife as he marches around you, poking you with the dirt of his boot. He stops and squats at your side, a crooked smile on his lips.

“This hunt is not over, pet,” he reaches to brush a roughened thumb across your cheek, “I know you are stronger than this.”

He stands again and rolls his shoulders as he shakes out his mussed curls. He takes a step forward, then another, and another, striding into the sunrise without a look back. You lay prone across the lumpy ground, trying to untangle his words. They are more than a warning, they are a promise.

#kraven the hunter #dark fic #dark!fic #fic #kraven the hunter x reader #one shot #marvel

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longhardtransitionreturns · 10 months ago

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I've always had this fantasy of not knowing I was pregnant, getting on a flight, and then having a really difficult birth on a plane while all the other passengers listen to my screams.

I spend the day leading up to my flight dealing with stomach cramps but figure they're either from the dodgy kebab I had at the pub or it's my period finally showing up. I've never been regular but it's been quite a while since I've had one so this could be the start of a really bad cycle.

I'm excited to wear my new jumpsuit, which is basically a one piece sweat suit that zips up the front. I'm meeting my partner when I land so I put on a tiny black lace thong and the matching bra and set off for the airport.

Wrangling my luggage while my stomach keeps clenching so hard it takes my breath away is difficult but I finally make it through security. I'm taking a break, rubbing my aching belly, when a pregnant woman passing grabs my shoulder and gives me a sympathetic smile.

"It hurts when they get rowdy, huh? Seems like they know when you're about to fly."

My cheeks turn red. I know I've been gaining weight but I didn't realize I looked pregnant!

I feel like it's rude to tell her that I'm not with child and actually just have to take a massive shit so I smile and mumble what I hope sounds like a sympathetic noise.

After unsuccessfully trying to go to the bathroom, I finally board my flight. I'm grateful to be in first class because it's suddenly really painful to sit any other way but with my legs spread wide.

I try to sleep, especially because I hate flying over the water and the first 6 hours of this flight are over the Atlantic. But not only does the pain in my stomach stop me from sleeping, it drives me from my seat every ten minutes to go strain on the toilet. I'm starting to freak out a little; I've never felt pain like this and for the first time I start to get scared something is really wrong.

Eventually even the engine noise can't mute the groans coming from the tiny plane bathroom. When I stumble out for my 10th time in 2 hours, the flight attendant is waiting with an annoyed looking man in a stained Metallica sweatshirt.

She stops me with a wary smile. "Honey, I think we need to get you checked out. This is John, he's an EMT. He's the only medical professional on board but he agreed to take a look."

John looks hungover or maybe still drunk and his agreement had to have been reluctant but he sits down with me in an empty last row of seats and starts asking questions about my symptoms. When I tell him I haven't had a period for almost a year but the pain feels a bit like period cramps, his eyes go wide as saucers.

"Uh, ma'am, I think I'm gonna need to check your vagina. I think you might be in labor."

I've had enough. This is the second time today someone has thought I'm pregnant! I get up and brush roughly past John and start making my way back up to my seat, hopefully to sleep.

I barely make it to the middle of the plane before the worst pain yet clinches my belly and I feel an undeniable weight plop painfully into my pelvis. It drops me to my knees and I'm suddelny howling in agony, much to the horror of my fellow passengers.

I don't even have time to think before I feel a pop and fluid gushes out of my twat, soaking my panties and jumpsuit. I feel just a second of relief before the pressure is back, worse than I've ever felt, and I know with sudden horrifying clarity that the weight is that of a baby moving down my birth canal.

"There's a baby in my pussy and I need to push!"

John and the flight attendant are immediately at my side, pulling me painfully to my feet. Before I really even know what's happening I'm in the galley in the back of the plane with John unzipping my jumpsuit and peeling my soaked thong down my legs. They lay me spread eagle on the floor and he sticks his fingers up me.

I'm pretty out of it from the pain and shock but over the next ten minutes I gather I'm seven centimeters dilated, it's three hours until we land whether we turn around or keep going, and I'm probably going to have to crown a baby lying on a dirty floor underneath the drawer where they keep the diet Coke and little bottles of liquor.

I can't really focus on anything but the pain, which now includes long, searing stabs through my back as well as my front. The pressure is insane. I never imagined birth would feel like my hips are going to dislocate because the baby passing through them is so big. I hear John say things like "back labor" and "posterior" and, worryingly, "very narrow pelvis" but by that point I am in transition and shaking and puking and pleading for someone to let me die it hurts so bad.

I learned later, through a TikTok video a fellow passenger posted that got four million likes, that I crowned for thirty minutes. The guy who posted the video made a time lapse and edited my screams for help and death over it. He even got a cheeky shot of my bruised, bleeding pussy stretched around the head at the widest point.

When it finally pops out, I pray my ordeal is almost over. But, no matter how hard John pulls or I push, the shoulders are jammed tight in my opening. I spend the final half hour of the flight with a massive head hanging out of me while I drift in and out of consciousness.

I remember how bad it hurt for that head to be jostled when the plane landed and it was agony to be lifted on to the stretcher, my legs carefully held wide to accommodate the head hanging between them. I remember being horrified most of the passengers were filming me being wheeled up the aisle, legs open, screaming about the pain in my pussy every time we hit a bump.

It wasn't until hours later, my 14lb son in my arms and the good drugs masking the horror of what they had to do to me down there to finally get him all the way out, that I realized the creative folks on the internet had turned my birth from hell into a trending TikTok song.

I never really found the humor in putting me screaming "I've got a baby in my pussy and I need to push" and "Oh my God, my clitoris just ripped" to music. Especially since all I got was a kid I didn't want and a lifetime fear of both birth and flying.

#birth kink #labor and delivery #maesiophilia #preggo kink #painful birth #giving birth #birth

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pedrostylez · 2 months ago

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The First Time: Part 1

pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

chapter summary: You've crash-landed on an unknown moon without a mechanic and have to figure out how to get home, and Din has followed you

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 4.1k

Warnings: Time travel, confusion, fluff but barely we are only just getting to know ourselves here, not able to eat spicy food reader, Din wants to show affection but restrains, inaccuracies about Star Wars megaverse, please forgive me.

A/N: Please enjoy my first attempt at Din Djarin you guys I’m lowkey nervous. This will progress into smutty chapters, just not this one. Translations for Mando'a are at the bottom of the story.

Series masterlist

It was a mistake, how you ended up here.

You found yourself looking around briefly in confusion before shrugging off the paranoia. The planet was familiar, yes, but only parts of it.

Once finding a main road, you walked cautiously through the streets, stalls of different vendors yelling for anyone to come by and purchase their wares. You flinched at the sound of one, seemingly calling out to you to come closer, a pair of shoes ready to be worn and looked to be made just for you.

Ignoring as best as you could, you got into a line for one of the food stalls, looking around for a brief moment. You just needed a meal after the difficult trip you just endured, soaring through space as if you had no control over your ship. You were afraid to admit it out loud, but you were worried that you weren’t going to be able to run The Huntress alone. Small in size, typically a three person crew, your friends had either dispersed to start their families or had rotated out enough that you no longer knew who was on your ship.

Was it possible to run it alone? Of course. Were you panicking when the ship made a noise you had never heard in the six years you had been on the ship? Yes. More so panicked when the ship hurtled forward, your scream not heard by your own ears, and your arms still felt the strain of you trying to control the ship.

The crash landing was inevitable, and your ability to survive and somehow only destroy one of the wings was a miracle on its own. You still don’t know what happened.

You had made a simple plan when you stumbled out of the ship onto the dirt and stared at the smoking hunk of metal; some food for your stomach, a strong drink, a good night's rest, and then to the mechanics. Thankfully, this planet was recognizable, and you were lucky to land here without all of the planet's police surrounding you for entering the airspace without asking. Maybe you should go to the docking stations to say something–

“What can I get you?” The woman behind the stall counter asked with a frown. Her voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you sent a smile her way that she did not return.

“The stick, please.” You say quietly, pointing toward the kebab-looking meal, mouth already watering at the idea of finally having something in your stomach.

She hands it to you, wrapped in a parchment like paper and sprinkled with a pepper you know will get your sinuses moving just by looking at it. You drop a few coins into her hand, turning to walk away and letting your teeth sink into the steaming meat. The food is spicy and almost unbearable to your palette, but smiling all the same as it warms your belly and satiates your hunger enough to let you look around a bit more.

You glance to the other booth across the walkway, noticing that not many people are there, some shuffling outside a door and conversing. You glance around, suddenly unsure of where you are. You thought this street was only for food vendors and shops, not including this larger building.

Maybe you’re farther down the path than you thought, stepping through the dried mud in the middle of the street and past the people standing around and smoking. A call of what you are in a foreign tongue, human, easily ignored as you finish off your food and attempt to toss it into a trash can.

When you step into the cantina, trash balled up in one hand and kebab stick twirling through your fingers in the other, you search around briefly. Tables, chairs and booths surrounding a bar, people and alike talking and drinking have you raising your eyebrows briefly. You had never seen this cantina before.

“Excuse me?” You speak up to the bartender, a Gamorrean with a frown etched into his face, mid scoop of ice as he glances at you. “Any rooms here that I can rent?”

He squints his eyes in your direction, sizing you up. “How long?” He’s quick to go back to what he’s doing after his assessment, setting the cup on the counter and tipping a bottle of liquid into it.

“Well it depends, where is the closest mechanic?” You think through which planet this may be, wondering if he would name anyone you thought might reside here.

He barks out a laugh, sending you a quizzical look. “There’s no mechanics here, girl. You’ll have to travel halfway around this moon.”

A moon? Well, shit. “Then at least 2 weeks I’ll need a bed.” You sigh, reaching into your pocket for the cash you have. “How much?”

He’s shaking his head, waving his hands to try and stop you. “I only have a spare bed for a week.” He announces, looking you squarely in the face.

Your eyes shut, holding back the anger bubbling in the back of your mind. “A week and free meals?” You pull the cash the rest of the way out, sliding it over the bar top and doing your best to hold your ground.

His eyes blink at you slowly, taking a deep breath and looking down to the bar. A shrug in acceptance before he says, “Alright.”

Din knows you’re here, somewhere.

His tracker is beeping at him incessantly, and his neck twists and turns on a constant swivel, scanning the area for where you might be.

His body moves on its own, the steam from the ship still sticking to him as his boots leave tracks in the dirt. This moon is new to him, the strangely colored trees and darker dirt remind him of a few different moons that no longer exist in his time. He assumes he has arrived some time in the past. His visor scans slowly, listing off the plants and information about the surrounding area when he spots your ship.

Crashed.

His purposeful walk changes to a run, panic coursing through him. “Kar’ta!”

He’s able to lift the door off the front of your ship, the glass cracking and shattering on the ground as he pushes himself forward. “Where are you?” He calls, panicking and swiveling his head around and around.

He’s able to get through some of the damage into a pocket of silence, listening for the sound of life. His heart is sinking when he hears nothing, tapping at the side of his helmet to change the settings of his visor; maybe this will help him.

The heat sensors in his visor brighten, showing where your engine is still warm, where your footprints are as you stumbled through the cargo hold, but you are nowhere. His heart calms, trailing your footprints through your ship to where they lead outside, in the opposite direction he came from. It calms him enough to stop the panic, and recenter his thoughts.

Din shakes himself, cracking his neck and takes a deep breath. This is alright, this is good. You’re alive; that’s all that matters.

As he begins to trail you, shutting off his tracker and silently making his way through the trees in your steps, he wonders how this was the place you landed? Well…crashed. You maybe had no choice in that.

The trees are thick, and he can see where you’ve tripped, where you’ve taken a rest before continuing on. Your movements seem unorganized–lost, and unaware of your surroundings. Din feels a wave of discomfort, silently stepping by a den of animals that would have certainly torn you to shreds, but your track continues on.

He finds himself in a town center, in broad daylight with little movement going on. His visor reads the temperature to be high, likely the reason most life's not out and doing business. He’s come to the conclusion that you have no idea where you are, and he stops to take a breath.

The suns are shining off his armor, reflecting on the fabric of different stands and he hears whispers from the stalls, speculating about his presence. The attention he is drawing to himself suddenly dawns on him, and he’s quick to step into the cantina that has your footprints trailing though the doors.

He sighs with relief at the shade, ignoring how it has quieted down substantially, but it doesn’t matter to him. Like a moth to a flame, his head turns and sees you, sitting in a booth with your head tilted over your journal, your arm moving furiously as you remain focused on what you’re doing.

He takes a step toward you, excitement coursing through him. His hand brushes your shoulder, and his heart warms that he has finally found you again. “Finally, cyar’ika–”

You turn your head, a smile on your face in greeting before it drops, leaning away from him. “I’m sorry?” There’s a sense of alarm in your eyes, your voice shaking slightly, that Din has a hard time realizing.

“Where have you been?” He asks, sitting down across from you and leaning an elbow on the table. He feels like he’s finally able to take a deep breath, ragged from the worry for you. His hand reaches out towards you as he says, “I’ve been looking everywhere–”

“Who are you?” You squeak, hiding your journal from him and eyes widening in what he thinks is fear. It snaps him out of his worry as he examines you.

He stops his movement, fingers curling back toward himself as he looks around the cantina again. All eyes are on him, observing, watching. “I apologize.” He grunts, sitting up straight and leaning away from you. You told him this would happen.

You stare at him for a moment longer, relaxing your arms back to let your journal lay flat. He keeps his head straight, letting his eyes flick to the pages to see what you’re writing before they go back to your face.

You’re as beautiful as ever. More frightened, a bit ragged he assumes from a crash landing, but alive and well. But, you don’t know who he is and he can’t stop this pull that he feels. He wants to speak to you alone.

“That’s alright.” You sigh, looking up to him and slowly reaching for your writing utensil. Cautiously, you turn back to what you were doing before, relaxing your arms and the journal in your hands. He watches as you shade in part of the page, catches how your lips mouths out what you’re missing, and he frowns.

What is he supposed to do now?

You’re more than certain that this Mandolorian is mistaken.

He has to be.

You couldn’t possibly have a hit out on you, right?

You’re clearing your throat, trying to gain the courage to ask him if he’s hunting you, when the bartender, Lugho, sets a bowl of soup in front of you next to your journal. “Does your friend need one?” He asks in an unhappy tone. “That one won’t be free.”

You had finally gotten the Gamorrean to tell you his name, begrudgingly muttered to you when you asked for it after the first meal he served you. His cooking was surprisingly good, vegetable based in nature and kept you full for long after. The frown that you thought had started to relax was now back in full swing for the warrior across from you.

“No.” The Mandolorian snaps before you can speak, not moving his head an inch.

Lugho grumbles, ignoring your quiet thank you and going back over to the bar to clean up as you pick up a spoon. The first bite is delicious, and you can’t help the smile. “Are you sure? I don’t mind getting you a bowl.” You offer, hoping that niceties might make him go easier on you.

You think that maybe if you are overly nice to the Mandolorian, that maybe he will forget hunting you. Or he will just get annoyed and take you in sooner. Your knowledge of Mandolorians is limited, and as far as you were concerned they no longer existed, but that didn’t stop the stories that flowed about them.

He shakes his head, tapping a finger on the table top. The silence is deafening, but you continue your meal in the silence, not glancing up at him once. Feign innocence, you are not guilty of a single thing; besides maybe betraying your planet. “Is it…” He begins to ask, your chin tipping up to look at him as you swallow another spoonful. “Is it not too spicy?”

The question catches you off guard, tilting your head to the side. “Uh…no. Lugho knows I don’t…” you trail off, setting your spoon down and pushing the bowl away. Too spicy?

“Are you friends with this Lugho?” The monotone voice speaks, and you think maybe he’s angry.

You shrug, turning your head to look at the bartender who is eyeing the Mandalorian with a critical gaze. “No, he was putting up with me.”

He’s silent again, and you have this urge to fill it in with further explanation, to tell him absolutely everything, but you stop yourself. You don’t know why he’s here, or what he wants, so you turn back to your journal.

You are not guilty. You are not guilty.

Another part drawn, another label made, and you count the spaces in between before continuing on to the next.

You feel his eyes on you, but you refuse to look up, not wanting to put anymore attention on yourself. If you continue this journal, ignore his presence, then maybe he will leave you alone; maybe he will tell you why he is there.

As the day progresses into night, your body still tilted over your journal, you look up as the bar begins to get rowdy, seeing that the Mandolorian is still sitting across from you. You’re surprised at how he remains unmoving, but also with yourself. How have you gotten comfortable with him looming over you?

You clear your throat, giving him a tight smile. “I’m going to turn in for the night. Feel free to use my free dinner, let Lugho know I said it was okay.”

He watches you for a moment, twisting his head to look at the bar and then back to you. “Alright, I will see you tomorrow.”

You frown, not sure when exactly you offered to see him, but nod anyway and move to the corner of the bar where a staircase leads to the rented rooms. A couple steps up you take a breath, turning your body to look out into the bar for a final time. You see that the Mandolorian is standing at the entrance, watching you before stepping through the front door and into the night.

You wake the next morning to the sound of banging on your door. Your eyes squinting open into the dark room, appreciative of the blackout curtains, wondering if you’re dreaming it. You groan unhappily as it occurs again, pulling yourself out of bed to hear Lugho yell your name. “That shiny thing is downstairs waiting for you!”

You wrap a blanket around yourself, groaning again as you grab the handle. You open the door, the frown on Lugho’s face apparent. “What?”

“He’s driving away my customers!” He trills again, pointing a long finger at you. “You get him out of here!”

“I don’t know him!” You hiss, shaking your head. “I’ll be down in a few minutes. Give him my breakfast or something.”

“He doesn’t eat! I already asked.” He huffs, crossing his arms. He tilts his head unsurely, looking down the hall toward the stairs before his frown relaxes and turn now whispering. “Is he hunting you?”

“I fucking hope not.” You grumble, shooing him away. You’re able to shut the door again, sighing heavily before turning to the small bag of clothes you have.

You get dressed, running down the stairs and stopping at the bottom when you see him, sitting in the same spot as the day before. You hadn’t really had a chance to look at him yesterday, but the way he leans, how his head tilts towards you as if he’s sensed that you’re there before straightening up, has something in you stirring.

As you walk toward him, you’re feeling self conscious suddenly. Your hair, still a mess from the bed, your hands stained with charcoal still as they wouldn’t come out in your shower, and this looming possibility that he is hunting you.

You sit across from him tentatively, a small smile sent to Lugho as he sets a plate of breakfast in front of you before scowling at the warrior across from you. You clear your throat, getting him to go away before you stare wide-eyed at the unforgiving visor in front of you. “Sleep well?” You squeak at him, reaching for your for and slowly taking bites. You’re starving, if you’re honest with yourself, and as you look at the Mandolorian waiting for a response, you accidently take a bite of the sausage that you had found out a couple days prior was too spicy for you.

You cough, looking down to your plate to see the offending piece of food, reaching for your drink that you thought would be on the table, but struggle when your fingers reach nothing.

In the silence, you begin swallowing to try and work through the pain. You swear Lugho uses red pepper flakes, or the equivalent on this moon in excess, and now you’re practically choking from it.

A glass of water slides in front of you, the Mandolorian taking his seat again across from you as he watches you reach for it. It staves your thirst, clearing out the spice slower than you wish but enough to take a deep breath and set the glass down.

The Mandoloarian stands again, taking the empty glass to the bar and having it refilled again. You sit dumb founded when he sits again, waiting for any further explanation.

But instead he sits, tilting his head before giving a gruff, “I knew it would be too spicy.” before the rest of the day remains in silence.

The silence happens again the next day, and the day after. It could be a routine, if you knew it wouldn’t last forever. Waking up to the sound of Lugho banging on your door to announce the Mandolorian’s arrival, your lumbering down the stairs to sit at your table across from him, and not a word passed between you.

You think that maybe he will eventually speak himself, tell you why exactly he is here, or why he is sitting with you specifically, but he doesn’t. And you don’t intend on providing him with any more reason to take you to wherever he was planning.

So now, He’s sitting across from you as he has for the past couple days, his hands hidden below the wooden table and that visor staring back at you. Your own reflection startles you, realizing you had been staring up at him in wonder before your gaze jumps back down to your journal again.

Youshift of the book closer to you, your charcoal smudging from the sudden moisture coming to your palms and you clear your throat. “Sorry.” You mumble, keeping your eyes down and starting your sketch again.

The silence that comes from him is both deafening and comforting, after multiple days in a row of his silence surrounding you while the rest of the cantina made noise. It seems that the rest of the establishment has gotten used to his presence, still watching him but moving about their days as they had been when you arrive.

Sitting across from him with your head down most days, you aren’t really sure if he watches you, or if he watches the rest of the room. In a way, both of those possibilities have your insides warming, feeling safer to lose yourself in the detailed drawings of the inner workings of your ship. Even with the looming man in front of you likely taking you back to your home planet for a ransom, you are able to relax.

Looking over your pages and contemplating whether or not you’ve got a better idea of what is going on in your ship, the thought that actually working on it crosses your mind. The idea of taking the panels off yourself and beginning to work on the ship is intimidating, and you’re not sure you’re ready. You’ve always had a mechanic on board, and to suddenly be having ship problems with no mechanic where you landed, you’re a bit hesitant.

Maybe you efforts to recreate the inside of your ship to test theories you have before actually removing panels will help you–

“What are you drawing?” The Mandolorian asks, his head tilting in question.

You freeze, eyes traveling up from the table to the visor again and holding your eyes with your own reflection distorted in the curve of the helmet. “Uh, well…”

You trail off, tapping your charcoal against the edge of your journal. The dust from the stick you have begins piling neatly on the table and on the sheet, and you attempt to stop. “I can’t find a mechanic, and I know what the inside looks like, but I don’t know what needs to be fixed so…if I draw what I know is there, I can go through the options before making a bigger mess.”

You clear your throat after you finish, watching for a reaction. When nothing comes as you suspected, you turn your eyes back to your sheet and begin going back to the drawings. You swipe at the edge of the page, the smudge of charcoal now on your thumb and forefinger before circling back to the gear you had been working on.

You’re unsure how much time passes when his modulated voice reaches your ears again. “Did you throw out the manual?”

You keep your eyes down, continuing your sketch. “No, it didn’t come with it.”

“So you’re drawing it from memory?” He sounds surprised you think, even through the modulation.

You shrug, feeling a little uncomfortable. “I mean, yeah. You should know your ship if you’re flying it.”

“Then why not just open it up and start fixing it?” He leans an elbow on the table, toward you slightly as if he is relaxed around you.

You shrug. “I’m not a mechanic. I thought there would be one here.”

“So you landed here on purpose?”

“No, it was an accident.”

“An accident.” He states, his handsresting on to the table and clasping in front of him, leaning toward you more. “Where were you trying to go?”

You stumble, suddenly feeling very defensive. “Why are you asking me so many questions?” I was going home. To the rebel planet, to beg them for forgiveness. But something happened, something changed. Nothing ever goes to plan-

“I was sent here for you.” He says gruffly, as if he whispered it.

Your eyes widen, looking around briefly to see if anyone was listening. When you find that no one is around, you turn back to him, feeling sick to your stomach. “You’re hunting me?”

He’s silent in front of you, head tilting and you aren’t able to get up. You want to run, to find a way to hide from him, but it’s as if he’s pinned you in place with his stare, even though you cannot see it. “No, cyar’ika.”

“Is someone looking for me?” You squeak, pushing your journal away in a bit of panic.

“You tell me.” He’s serious again, unmoving.

“I don’t…I don’t think so!” You shake your head, leaning your head into your hand and thinking that you’ve just smeared charcoal all over your face. “I thought you were!”

“Hmm.” He turns his head to look around and then snapping back to you, a deep sigh heard from under his helmet before he stands and slides into the seat beside you. He leans in heavily, his hand landing on your thigh and squeezing gently. “What if I told you I know you’re trying to return home?”

You shiver, turning your head to his visor and whispering. “How would you know that if you’re not trying to earn a bounty off of me?”

You think you hear him huff, leaning away briefly to grab a napkin off of a neighboring table and turns back to you. He dips the napkin into your cup of water, pausing with it in his hand as if asking for permission. When you don’t respond he brings the napkin to your face, wiping away the charcoal on your cheek. “I was sent here to find you by very powerful people.”

“Who?” you ask, leaning into his hand unconsciously.

“The Jedi, mesh’la.” He says quietly, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone in a soothing manner.

You sit up, shocked by his words before it spills out of you. “But…The Jedi don’t exist anymore.”

Translations:

Kar’ta → heart

Cyar’ika → darling, sweetheart

Mesh’la → beautiful

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you

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menagerofmischief · 2 months ago

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Dia's Diner

Welcome to Dia's Diner, here you'll be able to order your meal (fic) with as many specifications and dishes as you want. We hope you leave satisfied ;)

first step is choosing who you want your fic to be about, so pick a server (you can even pick two)

SERVERS:

Max Verstappen

Charles Leclerc

Carlos Sainz Jr.

Lewis Hamilton

George Russel

Lando Norris

Oscar Piastri

Daniel Riccardo

Alex Albon

Fernando Alonso

Franco Collapinto

Pierre Gasly

Esteban Ocon

Lance Stroll

Ollie Bearman

Kimi Antonelli

Mick Schumacher

Arthur Leclerc

Sebastian Vettel

Mark Webber

Jenson Button

Nico Rosberg

Toto Wolff

every good meal starts with an appetizer, by choosing your appetizer you're setting the main trope of the fic

STARTERS:

charcuterie board (dating)

artichoke dip (brother’s friend)

olives and cheese (friends to lovers)

stuffed cherry tomatoes (sugar daddy)

hummus nachos (teammates)

shrimp cocktail (rivals to lovers)

and how you want it served

HOT OR COLD:

hot appetizer (sweet sex)

cold appetizer (rought sex)

now it's time to order the main dish, feel free to choose as many as you want

MAINS:

lobster (“I love watching my cum leak out from your pussy”)

caviar and oysters (“Gonna look so good full of my babies”)

fish and chips (“Where are your manners?”)

steak (“Made just for me. My pretty little cocksleeve”)

burger and fries (“Hurts? That’s too bad baby, should have thought about it before being such a slut”)

buffalo wings (“Count them for me”)

ramen (“What would your brother think if he saw us?”)

gyros (“Gonna fill you up”)

full english (“My pretty little slut”)

pizza (“My good girl”)

pesto pasta (“Slow down, you just told me to speed up. What’s it gonna be silly girl?”)

carbonara (“Look so good on my cock”)

sausage rolls (“I’ll make it fit”)

sushi (“Better quiet down, you don’t want them to hear us.)

tacos (“I’m gonna give you an attitude check”)

chicken quesadilla (“So pretty with my cock down your throat”)

crab cakes (“Yeah, gonna swallow like a good girl?”)

chicken nuggets (“Couldn’t help being a brat, could you?”)

kimchi (“Be a good girl and take it”)

tomato soup (“Running away from my dick? I don’t think so.”)

cheese fries (“I love making you squirt”)

stuffed potato (“Just where you belong … on your knees for me”)

sarma (“Gonna put a baby in you”)

moussaka (“You look your best covered in my cum”)

caesar salad (“Lie to me again and you’re not gonna like what happens next”)

chicken skewer (“Be a good girl and cum for me”)

mac and cheese (“Only good girls get to cum”)

mango sticky rice (“Next time you try that shit I’ll make him watch while I fuck you”)

chicken fingers (“Yeah, you like being filled in both ends like a slut”)

butter chicken rice (“If you want it then you better beg for it”)

eggs and bacon ("Are you gonna stop moving or am I gonna hold you down?")

spring rolls ("All you do is complain, perhaps I should shut you up")

sloppy joe ("You have the prettiest mouth. Why don't you put it to good use?")

kebab ("Look at that my cock is splitting you in half")

grilled cheese ("I buy you nice things and then I get to fuck you in them. Sounds fair to me")

pot roast ("You going to let me take my anger out on you, sweetheart?")

chili ("Look at you humping my thigh like a bitch in heat")

california rolls ("Scream my name - I want everyone to know who's making you feel this good)

PB&J ("Look at him while I make you cum")

dumplings ("Ride this cock - it's your cock")

black pudding ("There we good, you're such a good girl, taking you punishment so well")

smoked salmon ("My good girl deserves a reward")

fish tacos ("Just lie back and let me take care of you")

seafood boil ("Maybe I'll make a mix tape of your moans to listen to while I drive")

spaghetti with meatballs ("Why don't you put on that pretty little set I bought for you?")

veggie burger ("Feel how hard you make me")

hot dog ("Thought about you while touching myself. The real things is much better")

ratatouille ("I'll mark you up so much no man will dare talk to you again")

bacon pancakes ("I love when you wear dresses. It's so easy to flip it up and fuck you")

chicken alfredo ("You haven't been very good, have you? And you know what happens to bad girls")

avocado toast ("Look at you all dumb and crying on my cock")

lasagna ("Where did all that cockiness go now that it's time to take your punishment?)

gnocchi ("You like when I treat you like a toy, don't you?)

mashed potatoes and gravy ("You had no problem getting fucked in here like a slut. Then you should have no problem walking out there with my cum dripping down your legs")

having a drink with your dish really elevates the experience, drinks represent different kinks

DRINKS:

ice tea (oral giving/receiving)

sweet tea (morning sex)

redbull (filming sex)

mint tea (body worship giving/receiving)

white wine (sir kink)

vodka redbull (squirting)

white claw (pegging)

red wine (daddy kink)

rose (spanking)

champagne (threesome)

old fashioned (drunk sex)

whiskey (double penetration)

mai thai (mirror sex)

cosmopolitan (temperature play)

beer (bondage)

root beer (blindfold)

apple cider (spitting)

apple juice (edging)

orange juice (overstimulation)

pineapple juice (wax play)

smoothie (hickeys)

boba (anal)

matcha (toys)

vanilla milkshake (nipple play)

hot chocolate (dry humping)

chocolate milk (thigh riding)

espresso (dom/sub)

black coffee (chocking)

mocha coffee (degradation)

pumpkin spice latte (losing virginity)

fanta (size kink)

coca-cola (somnophillia)

coke zero (free use)

pepsi (car sex)

lemonade (public sex)

strawberry lemonade (breeding)

coconut water (jealous sex)

sparkling water (phone sex)

iced water (dirty talk)

to end the night you might consider getting a dessert, in this case dessert is aftercare

DESSERT:

yes (aftercare included)

no (aftercare not included)

special instructions: tell me your favorite track/race at the end of your request and I'll throw you in a freebie on the house that goes best with your order

Thank you for visiting! Here at Dia's Diner your pleasure is our priority, so be on the look out for new additions to our menu. Come back again.

A/N: I'm so grateful for each and every one of your requests, but I just ask that you be patient about waiting for it since I don't have much free time because of school.

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