#so i was thinking of keeping it contained to just the ship tag | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

konigbabe · 1 year ago

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steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

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There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

#moni writes #hajime kashimo #hajime kashimo x reader #kashimo x reader #hajime x reader #jujutsu kaisen #hajime kashimo x y/n #hajime x y/n #kashimo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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chuubian · 5 months ago

Text

Midnight pearl

Tags Pirate Chuuya x gn mermaid reader, mermaid courting ritual, Chuuya is perpetually confused, hunting, trafficking (just talking about it not actually doing it), dehumanizing language, reader is kinda feminized? like there's a bunch of pearls and traditionally feminine things they wear and own, the flags are happy and alive

Summary While swimming peacefully in the ocean, you're suddenly caught in a big net. Pulled out of your reverie, you're hauled onto a big ship and stuffed into a tank that can barely fit you. The captain of this uncivilized group of pirates is Chuuya. He had first planned to sell you, but over time his heart softened until one day he realizes he's fallen for you.

A/N this is the last part of this mini series. if im ever inspired to add onto it i might but for the most part this is where the plot ends :)

Part 1 Part 2

An overwhelming warmth was surrounding your body. It was like being stuck in quicksand. Quicksand that was super cozy and… hairy..? When your eyes finally snapped open you were met with a mountain of copper-toned hair, covering Chuuya's face who is, of course, snoring loudly. His head is resting on your chest, leaning into the comforting heat radiating from your skin. Your heart jumps into your throat. Breathing is a laboured effort- all the air has been stolen from your lungs at the sight of him.

Shifting, you look around the room, trying to free his arms from around your waist but his grip is too strong, so you resign to your fate. The room is luxurious, filled with intricate woodwork, white silk drapes around the windows, and expensive jewelry hung up on display. To others, the bed would probably be the most eye catching thing in the room- with its beautiful burgundy canopy and fluffy, no doubt expensive, snow white covers. It screams ‘I'm rich!’ But the thing that drew your eyes was not the extravagant decorations. It was Chuuya.

It's like he can feel your eyes on him, because when your eyes glance over him- taking in his soft pink lips, the slight flush high on his cheekbones, the little bit of drool dripping down his chin- he wakes up. His eyes meet yours. They're such a deep blue. They remind you of the sea. Of the dark abyss that used to be your home. It's comforting in a way. He definitely wasn't the best person, but he held you so sweetly just a few hours ago. Maybe at the bottom of his heart he was a good person. He just did what he had to, to survive.

“Hey.”

If you couldn't tell Chuuya had just woken up from the creases on his face and his disheveled appearance, his low raspy voice would give it away. Still half-asleep, he pulls you closer, unconsciously leaning into the warmth, chest pressed against yours. Suddenly, a realization comes over him, face reddening, he scoots away, attempting to separate the two of you despite the thin sheen of sweat gluing your skin together. Eventually, he manages to free himself, settling on the other side of the bed.

“Sorry… I was just cold.”

“Really? You look sweaty.”

He scowls, turning even more red.

“No I don't!”

He mumbles to himself for a few seconds, chewing on his nails, eyebrows furrowed deep in thought. It made you smile to see him so thrown off balance, especially when he's usually in control of every situation.

"Whatever, It's almost dinner time we need to go eat."

Chuuya threw the covers off himself and climbed off the bed. He walked over to your side of the bed, floors creaking painfully.

"Do you want your tank or are you okay sitting with us?"

The question made you stop. Staying in the container would mean being in water, but it would also mean being isolated. Again. you had grown used to being around Chuuya. It was a bit fast- yet something drew you to him. He was the kind of person that's utterly captivating. Where one meeting with him, by chance, would keep you thinking about him ten years later. On the other hand, you've been on solid land for almost the entire day. You were starting to miss the moisture on your skin and the full feeling in your lungs from familiar ocean water.

Chuuya’s eyebrows furrow, noticing how serious you've gotten. He puts a hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Hey, you okay?"

Nodding, you glance up into his blue eyes. it's easy to make your decision when he looks at you like that.

"I'll eat with you."

His lips quirk up into a pleased grin.

"Good, I was hoping you'd say that."

He reaches down to rip the toasty covers off you, exposing you to the horrible freezing environment. Whining, you lean into his touch. It's a welcome respite from the world outside.

"It's so cold."

He chuckles, low and deep. The vibrations reverberate through your chest, making your heart beat faster.

“I know, I know. Let's go.”

His strong arms slip under your back and tail, picking you up bridal style. It's a wonder how a man so short and small is so well built. The room was near the top deck of the boat, making it much easier to follow the hallways that had confused you so much a few hours prior. The wooden floors and walls here have less mold growing on them than the floors lower down. It's been cleaned thoroughly but they still couldn't seem to get all the fungus off. It was practically a permanent fixture of the ship. Destined to be there forever.

Once outside, you watch the sun start to hide, tucking itself under the horizon. It paints the sky with gorgeous yellows and purples, staining everything in its path with a golden filter. The sun is no longer searing your skin, instead it's moderate. More reserved than it would be at noon. The bright red ball of fire is starting to give way to the moon, concealing itself, letting another celestial body have its time to shine. Unselfishly.

Chuuya bounces as he walks with you to the top floor, setting you down next to him at the table. His arm is still wrapped around your waist, pulling you close until your tail and his thigh are pressed together. When you turn to look at him, you see he's already got his gaze focused on you. Chuuyas arm tightens around you slightly, his other hand coming up to play with the collar of his linen shirt nervously. He glances back down to the arm wrapped around you.

“I-its so you don't fall…”

You nod, accepting his answer and turning back to the table. The crew starts pouring in, fighting over seating and making comments about you. The same woman that smells nice from a few hours ago sits on the other side of you. She doesn't seem to like it when her kimono brushes up against your skin, scooting away.

“You're going to make my clothes smell like fish.”

Before you can speak up, Chuuya cuts in.

“Be nice.”

She huffs, head held up high, not even having the decency to look at you instead of the space across from her at the table.

“I'm just saying. I don't want my clothes dirtied.”

“Then why did you sit here?”

You finally speak up. She turns to look at you, eyes narrowed in discontent.

“None of your business. You should learn to keep your mouth shut, you have no use here other than to be sold.”

Chuuya chips in.

“Ane- san, there's no need for so much hostility. They're here now and they'll be here for a while. And Aren't you the one always telling me not to start fights for no reason?”

She glances over at him, lips pursing together.

“You've gotten too soft, Chuuya.”

After that, they both stay silent. The awkwardness is heavy in the air. Looming over you and sinking into your bones, making your muscles feel restless. Time moves slowly, oozing like sluggish drops of foul slime. Sticking to everything and everyone in the vicinity, ruining the festive atmosphere that had once filled the dining area- staining it with a somber, dreadful aura.

When the food comes, people start muttering softly among themselves, not wanting to face Chuuya or the woman's wrath. The meal itself didn't seem bad, their plates were full of dried fruits, chicken, cheese and bread that was well-seasoned. Probably to mask the flavor and smell of decomposing meat. For you, the only thing served was more clams, mussels, oysters, and seaweed. Thankfully they looked fresh unlike most of the crew's food. As you started eating- breaking open the shells, and scraping out the soft inside- you felt something hard. It was round and smooth, like a rock. Without thinking, you spit it out onto your hand and are met with a precious little white pearl. The people all around fall into silence once again, staring and the jewel in the palm of your hand.

“WHAT?!?”

Albatross’s shout pierces the quietude resonating in the air, breaking people out of their stupor. The unruly group of pirates swarm towards you, blocking all exits and your line of sight. You hold the pearl closer to yourself, hand clenched around it tightly, scowling.

“Alright! Alright everyone! Settle down! They found it, it's theirs to decide what to do with it!”

The air you had been unconsciously trapping in your lungs was finally let out, tension leaving your body as the crowd cleared out. The crew was still talking excitedly, expecting you to give them the jewel or at least sell it for money. Albatross was eagerly trying to convince you to hand it to him.

“I just wanna look, I swear! I'll give it back! I promise!”

Chuuya sighs, exasperated at his friend's weak attempts to trick you.

“They're not stupid… give up.”

“Aww come on Chuuya! You can't seriously be on its side!”

“Their.”

The blonde man's face sours- somehow more than when he ate the nearly rotten meal a few seconds ago.

“Huh?”

“Their. They're not an object. Speak properly next time.”

Albatross crosses his arms, eyes narrowed.

“I thought it didn't matter, weren't we gonna get rid of them anyways?”

He spits it out, stressing it like there's something inherently wrong or dirty about the word. He doesn't even treat his moldy meat this way. somehow treating you like a human being was one of the most vile, disgusting things he could do.

“It doesn't matter. I'm your boss aren't i? do what i say or else.”

At Chuuya’s biting words, Albatross backs off, mumbling under his breath, eating quietly for the rest of the meal. His head is hanging low, like a humiliated dog. It's uncharacteristic of him, he's usually so rowdy and loud. Chuuya's words seemed to be taken as gospel in this place. It was odd how much power he held over everyone.

The big pile of clams and kelp on your plate slowly disappear, leaving behind empty shells and a small pile of little multi-colored pearls. It's a miracle you found so many. Not all of them are perfectly round. Some have little blemishes and spots- or pieces that stick out, almost like a little tail. Despite not being flawless little gems, they glow just as brightly as the rest of them. Catching the attention of anyone who passes by- tempting them to swipe it off your plate and hold them hostage, away from you, for themselves.

After you've finished your food, you hold the little pearls in your palm, swirling them around and admiring the sparkle they give off. It's hypnotizing- the way they bounce off one another and clink together, glittering under the soft light. When you hold one up, next to the moon, you could almost confuse them for each other. Both creamy and comforting, reflecting the light off something much bigger than itself, but still enchanting in their own way.

"You really like them huh?'

Nodding, you look over at Chuuya, he's smiling down at you, eyes filled with warmth. The passion in his gaze wraps around you like a blanket- Protecting you from the harsh environment outside of your little bond. You lean closer, for some reason an overwhelming urge comes over you to feel his skin on yours. It's so smooth and well taken care of. Nothing like yours, which still isn't used to being in fresh air instead of salty sea water. His breath catches in his throat, grip tightening around your hips.

"You can have them."

You hold out the small handful of pearls for him. He blinks, shocked.

"Why? They’re precious, you should keep them."

Shrugging you pry his arm off from around you, forcing him to take the jewels. When his hand brushes against your lightly a tingling sensation travels from the tips of your fingers to your heart, causing it to speed up, and butterflies to form in your stomach. Chuuya seems to feel it too, gasping softly, hand clenching around the tiny pile of gemstones.

"Well...if you want me to. I'll take good care of them for you."

Chuuya admires the pearls in his hand for a few seconds.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?"

Albatross shouts from across the table, furious that he didn't get his 'fair share.'

"Why not me!?"

He starts fake sobbing, rolling around on the floor, and pulling on his hair dramatically. Groaning, Chuuya rolls his eyes.

"Did you seriously think they would ever give you these?"

"No but... I wanted them."

Albatross sticks his bottom lip out, pouting and trying to seem as cute as possible. It's fooling no one.

"Sorry for him boss, he's just being a little... theatrical."

The handsome man with blonde hair and blue eyes who was sitting next to Albatross speaks up. Chuuya grunts quietly, agitated.

"That's one way of putting it."

The man grabbed Albatross’ meager braid, dragging him away as he continues writhing around. He keeps a gentle smile on his face despite Albatross hurling insults at him and shouting.

"Lippmann! This is humiliating! Let me go! You can't do this to me!"

You can hear the man's voice get fainter and fainter as he's forced to rub against the floor- hauled across the decaying wood, getting small splinters along the way to the crew's quarters.

Chuuya relaxes once he's gone, tension leaving his shoulders, unfazed by what just happened. He quickly moves on, holding up one of the pink pearls with a little section that sticks out like a tail.

"This one looks like you."

You grin, his comment makes a weird sensation pool in your stomach. Settling heavy in your gut and spreading all around the forgotten recesses of your mind. Taking over your body completely.

"Does it?"

He nods.

"Yeah, it even has a little tail, see?"

You chuckle, looking down at the rest of the pile.

"And this one is you."

You hold up a little black pearl with a small extrusion coming out of the top.

"It looks like your hat."

He chuckles, putting the jewels in a compact pouch.

"I'll cherish these forever."

He glances up at the sky, breathing in deeply. You do the same. Strangely, you don't feel as suffocated by dry air anymore. You've become used to the bare feeling on your skin and the empty sensation in your lungs. The sea was cold and lonely, unlike being on land here with Chuuya. A peaceful quietness settles over the two of you, steadily tugging at you, pulling you closer. He breaks the silence.

"Uhm... can we talk in private?"

He looks around the dining table. People are still hanging around, talking and drinking, being tumultuous and causing chaos all around them.

"Yeah we probably should."

Chuuya stands up, strong arms picking you up once again.

"I'm sorry you have to keep carrying me around."

He shakes his head, finding it silly.

"I don't mind, I'm strong. Plus it'd be stupid if I was upset with you for trapping you here."

He walks with you in his arms toward the edge of the ship, seating you down on the chair he had left here a few hours ago when he was letting you look over the sea. Sitting down across from you, he crosses his legs. You find yourself missing the sensation of his skin against yours. It's far too frigid without him near you.

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

He looks up at you, expression serious.

"I wanted to let you go."

You feel your heart jump into your throat, blood running cold.

"... What..?"

This is what you had been waiting for, a chance to leave this place behind. To go back home. The man who had ripped you away from your habitat was offering you the chance to do the thing you'd been longing for. But somehow you found yourself dreading the idea. Would the water hug you as tightly as Chuuya did? Would the environment be as welcoming? You didn't have friends or family anymore. There was no reason to go back to the freezing sea. Chuuya had treated you kindly, defending and sympathizing with you. He wasn't even as bad of a person as he seemed at first. His willingness to let you leave proved that.

"You can go back home."

You tense up, looking out at the ocean. It's glittering beautifully. The water at night is such a familiar sight, it's hard to not miss it. The waves crash against the side of the rickety old boat, soothing your ringing ears. An ache in your heart longs to be back there, in a place you can move freely, but the dry air feels much more freeing than the pressure of water all around you. Especially when you get to be around someone.

“I… don't want to.”

His eyebrows furrow, baffled.

“Huh??? Why not?”

In spite of his questioning, a seed of hope is planted in his heart. blossoming under your attention. Blooming at the warmth and care radiating off you. He would do anything to keep you here, but at this point, keeping you hostage is too far. He doesn't want to trap you, he wants you to be happy.

“I just dont… I have no one to go back to and… I like being here.”

“On land?”

“Yeah, it's not so bad here.”

He pauses, reading your expression. He cant find any signs of lying, only a sincere look on your face.

“Well… if you want to you could stay in my room.”

“In the bed?”

He raises an eyebrow, lips quirking up smugly.

“You want to stay in my bed?”

Your cheeks turn hot. Humiliated at the implication that you enjoy being in the same bed in that way. Even if it was a little bit true.

“It's cozy!”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

He looks back out over the ledge.

“Are you positive you don't want to go back?”

“I'm completely sure.”

He smiles softly, pleased with your answer.

“Let's go then.”

Chuuya gets up, gathering you in his arms once again and leading you back down to his chambers. There's a fuzzy feeling developing in your brain at the feeling of his muscles against you. He's so firm in all the right places. His footsteps are heavy, banging against the weakened wooden planks as he makes his way through the hallways.

The door to his room creaks open, swinging onto the wall beside it. The view of his quarters once again steals your breath away. It's pure luxury like you'd never seen. Chuuya sets you down on the edge of his bed before walking towards one of his cabinets, taking a few tools out and sitting beside you.

“What's that for?”

“I'm making something.”

He takes out the bag he had put the pearls you gifted him in, methodically drilling small holes in each one. There weren't many pearls to begin with but he took his time with each one, making sure it was perfect. Once that was done, he started weaving silk cord between each one, fingers deftly creating knots between each one to ensure that they stay safe. The process takes a long time but watching him work with the concentrated glower on his face makes everything more enjoyable. Neither of you speak during the process, enjoying the comfortable silence that descends over the room- only the sound of pearls clinking together and the drill permeate the air.

Once he's done, he holds up the necklace. It's full of disfigured pearls. The pattern is inconsistent with pink, white, and black pearls littered throughout. It's chaotic. But Chuuya made it with his own hands. From the gift you gave him. The imperfections only make it more eye-catching. Why would you ever want a boring white pearl chain when Chuuya created this?

“I put ours together, look.”

He holds up the bottom of the necklace so you can see easier. At the center, the one you said looked like his hat, is next to the one he said looked like your tail. Your eyes are stinging, gasping for air, you reach over to grab the necklace from his hands.

“Are you okay?”

He looks so concerned- eyebrows pinched together, his hand comes to rest on your shoulder reassuringly.

“Yes… I love it.”

You try to catch your breath but it's been punched out of your lungs painfully. Your chest was struggling to expand, not used to the great deal of emotions you had been put through recently. Has Chuuya ever been so sentimental? It's such a sickeningly sweet moment that you can feel your stomach churning- struggling to process everything that's happened.

“Here, let me put it on for you.”

He gently takes it from your hands. As he clasps on the string of pearls, his calloused fingers brush against the back of your neck, sending a jolt of electricity down your back. Your heart is racing once again, adrenaline pumping through your veins until Chuuya starts scooching away.

“It looks lovely on you.”

Your cheeks burn under his attention. Chuuya is like the sun as a person- bright and warm, he helps those around him to grow and become better people. But he can also scorch everything in his path, annihilating everything that gets in his way. Around you, he tends to be more nurturing, you bring out a side in him that's softer. You wouldn't judge him for being tenderhearted. Instead, you indulge him. Letting him express his emotions freely.

“Thank you.”

He doesn't bother changing out of his clothing for the night. Deciding that he's too tired, he puts the tools he used away in his cabinet, before crawling back into the lavish sheets. He helps you adjust your position to a more comfortable one where his arms are wrapped around you. He tucks his head over your shoulder, breath fanning over your skin. Your nerves were alight, tremors traveling throughout your body. How was Chuuya so calm under these situations?

As the hours passed by, Chuuya fell asleep but you were still wide awake, thinking of what to do for him next. While your mind is wandering, the rocking of the ship against the splashing sea and sound of waves crashing is enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber. Slowly, the sounds and sensations take over your mind, surrounding it in a snug blanket of serene fuzziness.

When your eyes open again, bright sunlight is pouring into the room. Chuuya is still pressed against you. His hair is tickling your face, you try to move around but it only makes him hold on tighter. You put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake.

“Chuuya.”

He groans, rolling around, his mind is refusing to let him awaken. You only shake harder.

“Chuuya! Wake up, there's a fire on the ship!”

This makes his eyes spring open, immediately getting up in a panic.

“WHERE!”

“Nowhere.”

You snicker at him, amused at his immediate response to fake danger. He doesn't seem to find it as funny.

“You really shouldn't joke about that, you know.”

His hands are on his hips. You're still smiling at him, it was too fun to mess with him. He made it too easy.

“Fine, fine, I'll never joke about that again.”

You're lying.

“Can you help me up to the deck? I wanted to do something.”

He sighs, picking you up easily and carrying you through the hallways. They aren't as confusing as before, the layout of the boat was becoming more and more familiar as a concept- no longer the mysterious phenomenon that it used to be. The hot sun hits your eyes and skin as you reach the top floor, rays beaming down in brutal beacons, burning everything in its way. Chuuya sets you down on the ledge.

“Why did you want to come here?”

“I wanted to go back in the ocean, but only for a little bit, i just need to do something okay?”

Chuuya nods.

“I'll anchor down then.”

He turns to the rest of his crew that's bustling around, instructing them on what to do. Before he can get back to you, you've already dived back in. The water is freezing, seizing your muscles and shocking your system. How could this possibly be the way you had lived before? All the colorful corals underwater were washed out by a blue hue. It was so empty. Almost no life for miles. Nothing compared to the rambunctious crowd on the ship. The quiet stillness was unsettling now. It used to ease your nerves, relax you, but now it's not enough. It's eerie.

You ignore the dreadful feeling in your stomach, swimming around- you gather various things like sea pickles, red shells, pretty pieces of seaweed, an urchin, and some sea stars for good measure. Your tail was finally moving again, it was starting to get restless after spending so much time inactive. When you come back up to the surface of the water, you look up at the deck. Chuuya is watching you. Your heart jumps into your throat, making it hard to breathe. Or is it just the fresh air again?

The crowd of pirates helps you get back up to the ship, much more gently than last time, helping you sit on a chair again. When Chuuya sees what you have, he raises an eyebrow.

“This is the important thing you needed help with?”

“Yes.”

You hold up the red shell to his hair.

“See? this matches. It's for you.”

You hand it to him, going through a similar process of explaining each item and why it fits him well before handing it to him.

“So… why are you giving me these?”

You tilt your head, staring at him incredulously.

“For our wedding.”

Everyone surrounding you two bursts into chaos, filling the air with boisterous chatter and gossip. Chuuya's cheeks redden, he tries hiding his face with his hand but it does nothing to conceal the embarrassment.

“WHAT?!?”

“Our wedding. I gave you the gifts I needed to, we have to have our wedding soon.”

Chuuya is sputtering in shock. Albatross in the background is crying real tears. The woman in the silk kimono whose name you never learned is stunned.

“That doesn't mean we're married!”

“Yes it does. We even slept together last night.”

Everyone's eyes widened, silence falling over the room. It's like the calm before the storm.

“CHUUYA?!?”

Someone shouts out to him before everyone joins in, gossiping and making jokes loudly. They start crowding closer, surrounding the both of you.

“WAIT! WAIT! GUYS IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!”

It's futile, Chuuya knows it is, but he tries to defend himself. Unfortunately, no one believes him at all. Albatross instead starts chewing his hair, berating him for being a ‘nasty, nasty little man.’ Chuuya tries to push him off but everyone else starts mocking him too, it's a never ending cycle. one person backs off, here comes another. Once everyone finally calmed down, Chuuya feels like he can breathe again, turning to face you.

“Look… just because your kind does it that way, doesn't mean that we do too.”

“But I like you… I thought you liked me too…”

Chuuya flushes, redness spreading down to his neck. He looks around the ship nervously.

“Can you guys stop staring!?! Get back to work!”

Everyone scatters, going off and pretending that they aren't watching intently.

“I-i do like you but… we can't get married just yet, it's too soon.”

Your nose scrunches, face twisting.

“Fine, we don't have to. But I really meant it. I've never felt like this about anyone before.”

“I know, me too. But we have to take it slower… Okay?”

You nod, discontented that you can't get married just yet.

“Okay.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, sitting you down on his lap. You can feel the tension settling between you. Your muscles are heavy, weighed down by the pressure filling the air. For a moment, everything went completely still and quiet. The sensation in the pit of your tummy only got worse, like bees were trying to break out through the stomach lining and skin. Chuuya's eyes were on your the whole time, only glancing down for a second to your lips before looking back up again. Before you notice it, you've started leaning closer- breath brushing across his face, lips barely inches apart.

He leans in the rest of the way, catching your lips in a passionate kiss. Chuuya’s hand comes up, cradling your jaw, pulling you impossibly closer. His tongue is hot against yours, brushing against your bottom lip, deepening the kiss. Your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, holding on for dear life. During these few seconds, the outside world seems to melt away, becoming a forgotten past. When you pull away, you're both panting. You stay close by, ready to dive back in before he holds you back with a hand on the shoulder.

"Are you sure about this? You don't have to stay forever."

"I'm sure."

He appears to be thinking, contemplating if he really believes your words.

"What about when I retire and can't be on the ship anymore? When it breaks down, and I have to live on land. Permanently."

"Then you better get me a bigger tank."

#bsd chuuya #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #chuuya fanfic #chuuya x reader #mermaid au #pirate au #fanfic #bungou stray dogs fanfic #pirate chuuya

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another-lost-mc · 1 year ago

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Hi! I’ve never requested before but I’ve just been thinking about mammon x reader x levi (not mammon and levi with each other obviously) nsfw like what if they’re playing video games together and start to get jealous over mc getting cuddly with the other brother and then smut ensues💕💕. Ignore this if you don’t want to do it/aren’t comfortable with it!!

A/N: I have no problem writing the demons sharing MC as part of a poly!ship. Tag-teaming is kind of hot, right? And let's be real, most of the stuff I write with the twins ends up twisting that way by the end. I've written Mammon x Reader x Levi before (no demoncest obv) so let's pretend this is a little snapshot from the same AU. Their dynamic together is so much fun.

MAMMON x gn!Reader x LEVIATHAN, 1.2k words, NSFW / MDNI

Content/warnings: a little Levi-centric. Contains oral sex, teensy bit of tail-fucking, fingering.

It was supposed to be a relaxing evening together. Mammon is pressed against your back, his chin hooked over your shoulder so he can watch you and Levi play video games. Levi rests comfortably on the floor at your feet, rocking lightly with excitement as he wins the third race in a row. You were so focused on not driving off the rainbow track that you barely noticed the ticklish sensation of smooth scales sliding up your leg and inching up your thigh.

Tonight is Mammon's turn to take you to bed, and he's been fidgeting with the waistband of your pants for the past hour. He was probably hoping your gaming session with Levi would end and his brother could leave. Maybe he wanted to entice you to play a different type of game—one that involved a lot less clothing and watching you bounce on his cock—but he spots Levi's tail gliding across your legs and the fighting begins. You try to break it up as gently as you can—it's not that big of a deal, is it? Levi shakes his head no while Mammon yells of course it is, it's not his turn!

You spent last night in Levi's room. Sometimes he sleeps in your bed instead, but last night he had a raid event and you wanted to be close by to keep him company even if you fell asleep. He felt bad waking you up at some ungodly hour, but he was so thrilled about killing a new raid boss that he just had to tell you. You might not like all the same games as him, but that doesn't stop you from being his number one fan.

He leaned over the edge of his tub and giggled bashfully when you cupped his cheeks and peppered his face with little celebratory kisses. Quick pecks against his lips turned into a heated, desperate kiss when he moaned and licked into your mouth. You tugged his shirt collar and urged him to climb into the tub with you, and he pulled down your sleep pants enough so he could snake his hand and his tail between your legs. It didn't take long for him to coax the first orgasm from you when the tip of his tail teased your hole with the promise of more. He was still licking your cum off his fingers when you pulled down his sweatpants and sucked his cock into your mouth, teasing your gag reflex and choking yourself on his length. He tried to keep his hips from thrusting too deep into the soft, wet heat of your mouth, and when he warned you that he was close, you took him as deep so he came down your throat.

You spent the next hour groping each other and and making out while trying to take off the remaining clothes that kept getting in the way. His cock was hard and throbbing with the overwhelming desire to be inside you, and he finally tore off your underwear and flipped you onto your knees to fuck you from behind. You rolled your hips and met each of his rough, erratic thrusts, the hard smack of his thighs against your ass adding to the lewd sounds of your body squelching obscenely around his cock. He emptied himself inside you and watched his cum leak down your thighs before you both collapsed in a sweaty, sticky pile on top of his blankets. You drifted off to sleep with his quiet snores in your ear and his tail wrapped possessively around your thigh.

Their little spat over Levi's adventurous tail threatens to derail an otherwise perfect day. Sometimes Levi's tail instinctively curls around you if you're close enough. You don't mind at all, but apparently Mammon does. Mammon and Levi start bickering about getting worked up over something so stupid and you had your chance last night, so fuck off. You love them both dearly, but sometimes they can be viciously stubborn, and greedy, and jealous. But that's part of why you love them so much, isn't it?

You sigh loudly and dramatically to get their attention. They both shut up instantly and look a little confused, especially when you turn your head suddenly and kiss Mammon over your shoulder. He grunts when your lips press against his, but he opens his mouth with a groan as he returns your kiss with ravenous hunger. Levi shuffles awkwardly at your feet, but you catch the tip of his tail resting on your knee and slide it back into the warm gap between your thighs. He seems to get the hint and you smile against Mammon's mouth when Levi's tail tickles your inner thighs and presses against the warm space between your legs. He rubs you through your sleep pants and it's embarrassing how wet you are already; there's soft little squelching sounds as your clothes grow damp from your arousal. You rock your hips to increase the friction of his tail against your skin, but the feeling is muted, dulled by too many layers of clothing.

"Greedy little thing, aren't ya, Treasure?" Mammon murmurs against your mouth when he breaks the kiss. He huffs in amusement when you try to chase his lips, but his gaze rakes over your heaving chest and down the bed where you're rutting against the hard, unyielding curve of Levi's tail. Levi is on his knees in front of you, smoothing his palms up and down your calves while he sucks little marks into the delicate skin of your thighs. He glances at you and Mammon from beneath his lashes, and his orange eyes glow slightly as they brighten with excitement and lust.

Mammon grips the hem of your t-shirt and tugs it over your head. Levi licks his lips and drinks in the delectable sight of your bare chest and soft tummy. His tail flicks one last time against the damp spot forming between your legs before it curls just over the top of your knee instead. You whine at the sudden loss of heat and friction, but Mammon's hot breath ghosts across your ear and he tugs your ear lobe between his teeth. His hand slips under the waistband of your pants and he strokes you instead, gathering the slick arousal pooling at your slit and spreading it with his fingers. You reach back and reach into his soft, snowy white hair and tug roughly as you buck your hips against his hand and whine his name. His finger circles lazily around your entrance and you arch your back against him while your insides clench pitifully around nothing.

Mammon smirks at Levi over your shoulder and a flicker of silent understanding passes between them. No matter how much they argue, they usually don't get too carried away. They would never want their little squabbles to get in the way of pleasing you. "I'm feeling a little generous after all, babe," he murmurs against your neck before he licks a stripe up the delicate column of your throat. "He can stay and watch, and if he can keep his tail to himself, he can have you next."

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milliesfishes · 6 months ago

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Enchanted𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

[fem reader] contains: nudity, talk of male anatomy pairing: billy the kid x fem reader summary: pirate billy x mermaid reader author’s note: based on my love @francixoxoxo 's pirate billy au- leaving the tag below. (thank you lovey for letting me write for this!) I have a mermaid special interest and it's been a delight. Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The sea was a home in and of itself, but it was lonely all the same.

Sitting on the rocks and looking out at the moonlight reflected on the water, Billy pondered this thought, but came to no conclusion from it. The crew of the ship was docked here for the night, on a regular supply run. It was also a chance for the men to stretch their legs, flirt with local women, blow off steam; gear up for the next bit on the ship.

It had been a long night of drinking and roughhousing, and truly, Billy was exhausted by it all. The usual distractions hadn’t sufficed, and now he couldn’t sleep, plagued by the thoughts he’d previously stuffed into the recesses of his mind.

Piracy was far from his first choice in lifestyle, but he’d had little choice in the matter. Growing up by the sea meant he’d taken to the work easily, and he got along with the crew well enough, but his inner voice irked him. It wasn’t honest work, he knew. And sometimes when he was tying a knot or leaning over the railing, he saw his life stretched out before him if he continued on this path. An endless path of mopping, sailing, robbing. He hated how it played out before his eyes.

Shaking his head slightly, Billy began to strip his clothes off, deciding maybe a night swim would clear his head and get it back to normal. It was never good when he got too deep into thought- it only made things worse for a future version of himself.

Summertime made the water warmer than it would have been otherwise, and he left all his clothes on the rock, sliding down into the water. The slight chill sent his thoughts scattering back into the dark from whence they came, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, some peace. A little while in the ocean and they ought to stay where he wanted them for a good while, maybe even until the next time the crew came to port.

Since it was dark, he floated on his back, unashamed of his nude state. He was definitely far enough away from the village that nobody would be able to see him without coming real close. Relishing in the quiet of it, he breathed the salt air and closed his eyes briefly.

While some found the sea terrifying due to the unknown of it all, Billy was comforted by the mystery. His mother had told him young that the water was like a woman; an untamable enigma. One could only fully appreciate it if they leaned into the secrecy. Regarding both women and the sea, the message had served him well.

There was a sudden splash behind him, and he shifted so he was treading water. It was probably just a fish, but he’d learned quickly in his days as a sailor to keep his guard up at the first hint of danger.

Turning in a full circle, Billy saw nothing. Just the moonlit water. The waves lapped gently at his chest as he surveyed his surroundings. A human wouldn’t have been able to hide this easily. An animal would have swum far from him by now.

He moved a little closer to the rocks just in case, keeping an eye on the horizon. Putting one hand on the rough surface of the boulder that held his clothes, he peered at the water below. Nothing, as expected. It was stupid to think he’d be able to see even a foot under.

Another splash. Billy jolted, whipping his head around. He was getting suspicious. “Anyone near?” he called, squinting as if that would make the visage of darkness clearer.

There was the sound of a body in water. A human body. Reaching up for his pistol on the rock, he half-shouted, “I know you’re there! I can hear ya.” Billy stretched his arm. The gun was just out of reach. “Come about!”

Just as he was convinced he’d made the whole thing up, there was a movement in the shadow of the rock a little ways from him, maybe ten feet. Something was hiding.

Intrigued, he stopped trying to grab his pistol. A feeling told him his unknown companion wasn’t a threat. Billy cocked his head, focusing on the spot. “I ain’t gonna hurtcha.”

Slowly, the creature revealed itself from the shadows. The pale light of the moon revealed more than he thought it would. He saw it wasn’t a creature at all. It was a woman. And a stunning one at that.

You were unlike anything he’d ever seen.

Beauty so rare it felt otherworldly. Long, wet hair sticking to your breasts, and he could tell they were bare under that. Your shoulders were uncovered, except by spiderwebs of hair.

He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. There was a magnetic quality to you that he couldn’t shy away from, that he wouldn’t if he had a choice. You blinked at him owlishly, innocently. “Are you a human?”

Oh, your voice. Lilting and light and only comparable to music. He regained his bearings, realizing the odd question. “‘Course. Were ya expectin’ the kraken?”

You tilted your head, gliding closer to him. He felt his heart palpitate as he got a better view. Now he could see the water clinging to your skin and eyelashes, your goosebumps from the night air. It felt like he was being studied, but somehow he didn’t mind. With anyone else it would have been bothersome. With you…he was happy to have caught your attention.

Reaching out, you took one of his hands in your smooth ones and examined it, turning it over once. You traced a finger over the veins, the bones. It was as if you’d never seen one before. Your touch set him on fire.

He realized the oddity of the situation. “What…what’re ya doin’?”

“It’s just the same as mine,” you held out one of your hands for comparison, flexing the fingers.

“I’d imagine it is.” His mind was half and half. One part grounded, the other transfixed by you, hanging onto your every move.

Shifting closer to him, your eyes wandered over his chest, his face, his hair, as if you were looking for something. Billy swallowed. “Is…is everything okay?”

“You’re just like the men we’ve got,” you said distractedly, not answering his question.

“How different are the fellas where you come from?” Billy asked, a thousand unasked questions on his tongue.

“Not much, apparently,” you said as your eyes roved over him. “Except-” your gaze fell below the water, and he got the distinct impression that you were looking between his legs. Suddenly remembering he was nude, Billy reached a hand down to cover himself, cheeks flushing even though it was dark.

“I…uh…” he stuttered, then remembered the water was pitch black. You wouldn’t be able to see him. He removed his hand, shifting a little closer to you now. “What’re ya doin’ out here so late?”

“I like night swimming,” you explained, not providing a reason for your state of undress. Billy wasn’t in any place to judge, since he was in the same way, but it was just so rare for women to be so unashamedly naked like this. Not the women he’d met anyways; you were clearly something different. Something special.

Still peering down into the water, you were squinting a bit. Again, he felt like you were looking at a bit of him he didn’t normally show just anyone. “It’s dark…maybe if I got a closer look-” You made like you were going to dive down, and Billy quickly caught you by the shoulders.

“Ah…let’s not get so close, dontcha think?” he smiled boyishly, slightly distracted by how silky your hair was even though it was wet.

You seemed to understand. “Maybe another time.” As he was holding your shoulders, Billy sunk a little deeper, and you perked up. “Here, let me help you.” Gently, you pushed him against the rock, just holding him there. He was surprised by your strength. Not that women couldn’t be that way, but he was a fully grown man. Yet another strange thing to categorize. But the more unconventional you were, the more of a desire he felt to know you.

“Do ya…do ya come here often?” he asked, trying to learn something about the strange woman by the rocks.

“Not nearly as much as I’d like,” you smiled, and his heart stuttered. “My father doesn’t like it when I stray too far.”

“Especially when you’re meetin’ strange men after dark I’ll bet,” Billy grinned, and you laughed, pretty and clear.

“I don’t imagine he’d like that very much, no,” you sighed. “Especially since you’re…you know…” you nodded at his body.

He nodded back, his grin still evident. “Ah, yeah. Ain’t imaginin’ he’d be too pleased if he knew I wasn’t wearin’ anythin’ either.”

You frowned confusedly. “It’d probably be more about you being human.”

Now he was lost. “Now…why’d that be an issue? You’re…”

There was a beat of silence. You drew back a little, fidgeting with your fingers. Lips rounding in an oh shape, you swam back further, shyly. Leaning back a little and biting your lip nervously, you lifted your tail out of the water. A long, shimmery fish tail.

Billy’s eyes widened in surprise. And suddenly your fascination with his anatomy made sense. He moved closer curiously, but you drew back, looking slightly frightened.

Recognizing it, he stayed where he was, instead outstretching a hand. “I’m not gonna hurt ya. I was just…surprised is all.” Some of the men on the crew had spoken of dangerous women with tails who sang sailors to their deaths and made them mad with lust, and he hadn’t known whether to believe them. But here you were in front of him…harmless, shy and inquisitive.

Reemphasizing his hand, he gave you a smile. “I just ain’t never seen any merfolk before, not in person. But I ain’t gonna do nothin’ bad.”

Looking from his face to his hand, you cautiously moved closer. Billy nodded encouragingly, trying to coax you over. An idea struck him. “I’ll letcha look at my…” he looked down between his legs. “...sometime.”

Your eyes lit up at that. Cautiously, you reached your hand over to his, your soft meeting his rough. He brought you closer, so your stomachs were a breath’s width from touching.

Now that he had you here he was even more enchanted. He knew why he’d been so drawn to you; no doubt it was a part of your mermish characteristics. But there was something else here, something sparkling. Your eyes were like the sea, tumultuous and secretive, and he liked that.

Lean into it.

Billy dipped his head and caught your lips in a brief kiss. You tasted like salt, which only made him thirsty for more. When he pulled back, he saw your eyes were wide like the full moon behind him. “What was that?”

He smiled. “A kiss.” Reaching up, he thumbed the side of your cheek, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

You searched his eyes. “We don’t do that where I come from.”

“Ah,” he watched your expression. “Did you like it?”

Adorably, your brow furrowed slightly in thought. Then you slowly nodded, lips parting slightly as you looked up at him. “Yes.”

Billy hummed, his fingers finding the spot under your chin. “Do ya…wanna do it again?”

A slow smile came to your face, and you nodded again, tilting your head up and waiting, looking expectantly at him. He chuckled slightly, the hand that had been holding yours sliding around your waist and pulling you into him. Now he could feel the line where your skin ended and your tail began. Soft and sleek, all of you was.

“Close your eyes,” he said warmly, and you obeyed, your chin still lifted. Smiling at the sight of you, waiting to be kissed, he committed the image to memory. Your eyelashes were touching your skin, causing a pearl of water to fall from one of them, looking like a tear. Skin glowing from the light of the moon, hair wet and curling over your torso, you were a vision.

Then he leaned down and moved his lips against yours again, feeling like every star in the sky had decided to smile upon him that night.

Maybe he’d imagined he could be captivated by a mermaid, but he never dreamed he’d be kissing one.

Billy felt your hands slide up his chest, seemingly testing the waters. He smiled against your lips, nuzzling his nose on your cheek. His hand lifted to slide into your hair, holding the back of your head and pushing your mouth onto his.

You seemed unsure what to do with your hands as they were settled on his shoulders. Billy sensed it and took his other hand off your waist, fingers grasping your hand and dragging it into his hair. It seemed that instinct took over, and your fingers combed through his curls, eliciting a quiet groan from him.

Pressing your chest into his, you folded your arms around his neck, your hand remaining in his hair. The action lifted your body further up, and he lowered his hand to where your bottom would be if you had legs, making you shiver against him.

Pulling back slightly, he ended the kiss with a few gentle pecks, slowly easing you out of it.

Your smile when he opened his eyes was radiant. Billy traced his hand up your bare back, stringing through your salt strewn locks.

“Why do humans do that?” you asked in a hazy way, smiling sweetly up at him.

He returned it, feeling happy in a carefree, foolish way. “To…show other people ya…ya like ‘em. Cause it feels nice.” He stroked the apple of your cheek. “Did it feel nice for ya?” That part was asked in a whisper.

Your eyes were soft, slightly stormy in the best way. “I liked it.”

Billy smiled and leaned in for another kiss, but you lifted your head suddenly, as if you’d heard something. He frowned. “Are you-?”

“I have to go,” you said hurriedly, fixing your eyes back on his. Carefully, you pressed your lips to his for a slow kiss goodbye, and he felt like he was floating.

Before he knew it, you had slipped out of his arms and the last thing he saw was the glimmer of your tail on the horizon.

Billy didn’t move for a moment, dazed by you. He took in a breath, laughing slightly in disbelief.

A mermaid. He’d kissed a mermaid. And it had been like fireworks.

Next part

#billy the kid pirate au #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid au #billy the kid 2022 #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney #milliesfishes billy #Spotify

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adhd-fandom-hyperfocus · 5 days ago

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Perfection

Pairing: Perturabo x Reader(f)

Arthur's Note: What is this? A little continuation from the Perturabo x Reader thing I did a while ago? Yes. Yes, it is. Also again, I am sorry if this is really OOC of Mr. Turbo, never thought I would be writing him, lol.

First part, technically

Warnings: General Grimdarkness, pregnancy, depression. Light NSFW at then end

Tagging @kit-williams because I know he is your boy.

+18 Minors DNI

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

A ship was no place for an expecting mother-to-be, and Perturabo desperately hoped to hide what this crusade asked of him from you. For you to have some illusion he was not destroying. Even if it was clear you knew, he wanted to just think of what he would be when this was over. But the other option was to risk missing such a glorious and wonderous thing; you growing fat with his child, and that he couldn't allow. He was missing much as it was, having to siege and handle so much on his own. At least this way, when we returned to his vessel you were there waiting.

And Throne your smile and gentle touches kept his soul from becoming cold like the rest of him. You kept him human, what part of him that was. However, he could sense something dark overtaking you. The light in your beautiful eyes seemed dulled. A nasty malaise was taking you.

Wanting to rectify his lack of knowledge in the area of reproduction Perturabo delved head first into all knowledge he could find. The Lord of Iron will not fail at any task, especially being a good partner to the woman giving such a gift! He knew of the hormonal changes, and what they bring, but he had no idea they would be this bad. How your mind turned against you and him!

Perturabo was sure there was some comparison to be made about creating and nurturing life and doing such for creativity, but he would not simplify the sheer wonder you were doing.

He had been away a week, and last he saw you, this cloud was growing over your head, and he wished nothing more but to return to you and vanquish such thing with the appropriate amount of affection, within reason of course. Oh, how he wanted nothing more than to touch you, feel every new curve. The primarch growled and barked demanding the rites of removing his armor move quicker, he did not have time for the tech priests to be so lazy in their tasks. Sending one into a wall made his point clear enough.

As he entered his chambers, Perturabo could feel his cold and unrelenting demeanor start to melt. His footfall was not as heavy and angry. His jaw was not clenched. Even his anger about getting out of his armor faded. A thought occurred to him, his rage; outbursts, would he lash out at his grand creation? On the great design that brought it into this world? You? A sickening fear.

The Lord of Iron looked down at his hands stopping short of his bedroom door. What expectations would he push? No, he couldn't. Wouldn't. The babe would be flawed, weak and cry, and he would love it. No one but you ever made him feel seen and he would return that love to you tenfold and he would make sure his child would not have the same pathetic childhood he had. His child would have one, where he had none.

Done lingering in his thoughts, he cracked his door open, hoping to find you reading in bed or playing with one of the many puzzles he had made for you. But what he saw was your naked form before a large mirror. He wasn't one for such vanity things, but he got it for you, and he did like looking over and seeing how breath-taking you were being taken by him.

Sadly, the rising heat in his chest quelled quickly when he noticed you were crying. A mix of fear and rage took him, were you injured? Who hurt you?! He would raze his own ship to find out. Destroy all his sons for this grave mistake!

"My great treasure, why are you crying?" he asked, trying to keep his mounting fear and anger contained; hidden.

You turn with a start, how did a man so large manage to go unnoticed? More the fool you were, and further proved the malicious thoughts in your head. You were flawed, stupid, gross. Not only physically unsightly now, but what little intelligence you had, faded.

"Perturabo!" you shriek, frantically reaching for your robe to cover your body.

The primarch frowned, "Why do you cover yourself? No need for modesty, I have seen this finely crafted gift to me before." he mused trying to raise your spirits, assessing you were not injured physically at least, and did not seem ill.

When you lower lip quivered and you flinched at his words, like they wounded you, his hearts sank and knotted. The mental darkness that had been seeping into you had worsened it seemed. Curse this crusade and the damnable jobs his father sent him on. You should be planetside on Olympia with him living a life of sunshine and ease, while he worked on the nursery. He should be creating while you created the greatest thing of all.

"Please do not lie to me, Perturabo." you whimper so meekly he wasn't sure a baseline would have heard or understood.

Perturabo closed the gap between you two, gingerly taking a knee before you and taking a hand into his, "I do not lie, you know this. What have I said to make you think such? Tell me, so I can fix this."

He waits as you try to collect your breath and steady yourself to speak, "I am not pleasing anymore," you sob, your body trembling violently from your cries, "My body is bent and ugly. It is why you won't love me anymore!"

Oh. Oh Throne take him. It would seem the standards he pushed onto himself and his gene-sons had made this illness worse. Not to mention his information about expecting mothers and sex was now painfully clear to be incorrect. Here he thought he was doing what you desired, and instead, he made you feel undesirable.

With all the gentlness he could muster Perturabo guided your hands down and thus the robe exposing your body to him once more. He could feel how uneasy you felt. his own wife thinking she was not worthy of him, or his touch? This was a grave insult he had cast upon you and it hurt more than any torture or wound.

"Bent and ugly?" He repeated in a murmur, "How so?" his fingers trace your stretch marks, and his kisses your belly, "I see something so marvelous it takes my breath away. I see the woman who is offering her body to create something so beautiful and precious with me. Oh, I think there is nothing more beautiful in all creation." he mused planting more kisses on your belly, smiling as he does.

"I quite like these marks, shows how enduring and strong you are. No simple woman could carry my children! Only the right one; you," he kissed up your bump and his lips grazed over your milk-swollen breasts, "As for love making. Again I have failed, not you. I was under the impression sex would be...unpleasant for you right now and I did not wish to hurt you or the babe. Nor make you do something you would not enjoy..."

The primarch took one of your tender nipples into his mouth, and when your whimpers turned to moans that fire in his chest roared back to life and consumed his body. He dearly missed hearing that sound, been dying to have you make such music for months.

"My diamond, my great treasure, let your foolish husband fix this. I long to work your body, to meld into you." he cooed as he moved up your chest and neck.

As you moan his name his lips catch yours and you melt into his embrace. You felt foolish for doubting his love, but he would not give you time to be upset over it; already he was carrying you to bed, his eyes hungry and blown out.

"Not to be heretical, but allow this arrogant man to worship at your alter," the primarch rumbled as he hovered over you, his lips kissing over your body, leaving little fires where his lips touched, "And I will be gentle."

You didn't reply, merely whimpered his name, and rocked your hips as your lips begged for his; wanting his fire inside you. By all that was good, you had been craving this for months. Perturabo chuckled breaking a kiss, "I do not think I have been so pleased in all my years to have someone so needy for me. Do not worry, my wife, I will make up for my error."

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #primarchs #primarch x reader #perturabo #perturabo x reader

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anystalker707 · 1 year ago

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i could be your puppet

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x [gender neutral] Reader Kinktober prompt: Objectifying/Using Tags: Oral / semi-public / Cums easily, poor boy !!!

KINKTOBER LIST MASTERLIST

Zoro wasn’t aware of it when it started, only flustered and thinking he was imagining things whenever you did something, his face burnt hot as he looked away. When it clicked, things started taking a different turn, however. All the touches that he presumed to be innocent actually carried more behind them, and he didn’t really know how to act. It took over Zoro’s thoughts at night, taking away his sleep, as he bit on the collar of his shirt and tried his best to keep quiet while fisting his cock.

The two of you had hooked up a few times before, shared a bed during drunk party nights or when the crew had to stay at inns on the islands, so there was a closeness, but he thought that closeness was resumed to closed rooms and special occasions.

Zoro swallowed audibly, throat dry as you sat next to him at the dining table. Everyone was playing cards—he’d been invited to join, bribed by the sake, so he didn’t make the minimal effort against being the first one to lose just so that he could sit there enjoying the sake. That’d been until you sat there, of course. He didn’t think he could even sip the sake now.

“Usopp, you do not have an ace of cups, you fat ass liar!” You said to Usopp, making him gasp from across the table.

“How dare you doubt the great Captain Go D. Usopp?” And he started rambling immediately, saying he was the master at playing cards, with over 20 years of experience in each game. Yeah, the usual bullshit.

The table started to get more agitated once you placed your cards over the table. Zoro didn’t know what the cards were, aside from the fact the ace of cups was in fact with you. Honestly, he couldn’t think about anything while your hand held onto his thigh under the table like that. You gave it a squeeze while your voice grew a little louder at the attempt to talk over Luffy and Usopp altogether.

All that talk was just nonsense in the back of his mind, given the way your hand rested so close to his crotch like that. Your fingers soothed over the area, rubbing it and sometimes slipping towards his inner thigh. Meanwhile, you talked with everyone else as if nothing was happening. He wished he could curse you, standing up and leave, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to stop.

Zoro wouldn’t admit it openly—at least not so easily—, but he enjoyed that. He liked being yours to use whenever you felt like it, barely putting affection in your affections because you just wanted his body, eyeing him as if he were a large hunk of meat. It was pathetic, to be true, but maybe that’s what made it all even better.

“Guys!” Nami said as she walked back into the kitchen. “I fixed everything already. I even got someone to watch the ship, so no one needs to stay back. So, here are your lists and your share of money…” She handed off strips of paper along with some berries bills; yours just had some utility stuff for the ship, and peeking over, you could see that Zoro had some things in the same genre. “We are staying for the night, and the port is near the city, so we don’t have to worry about inns or anything.”

“What about me?” Luffy asked with a grin, eyeing from the list and money to Nami in an encouraging manner.

She narrowed her eyes. “You go with Usopp. Also, who’s—”

“I’ll babysit Zoro,” you said immediately. “We can’t afford to lose another day looking all over the island for him again.”

Zoro clicked his tongue immediately as the others muttered in agreement—he just cursed under his breath as he pretended to pay attention to the last orientations between the crew before you guys got ready to leave.

Zoro was carrying all the stuff, of course. You just had a bag in hand, but it contained some different food you’d seen in a bakery earlier, so it didn’t count for anything other than making up the excuse you were helping Zoro. He just walked behind you, guaranteeing he was following you—he didn’t want to get lost and be away from you, not in one of the few alone moments he had with you.

“You know what we could use?” You cut through his thoughts, looking over your shoulder, making his gaze immediately shift from your ass to your face. “I mean, what I could use. I saw some clothing stores around here, and since we finished everything early, we should go there. I’m not leaving you alone nor going back just to leave you at the ship.”

“No, it’s okay,” Zoro said, trying not to sound too interested, looking away for a second.

You looked at Zoro for a moment, then smiled a little bit. Something about it made Zoro imagine you calling him a good boy; he quickly averted his gaze again, just following you to a clothing store.

The store was practically empty; a few workers were helping some other customers, but it wasn’t anything that crowded the place, leaving many areas monotonous and boring. A sales clerk had offered to help you around, only to be quickly dismissed.

You were gone for a while, leaving Zoro to sit near the changing rooms area with the bags by his feet and arms crossed over his chest. He knew you’d tried on a lot of clothes, but you’d only asked his opinion on a couple of ones—he tried not to stare when the clothes hugged your frame a little too perfectly, stretching the fabric across it in ways that left little room for imagination. On the other hand, he also saw you slip some pieces of clothing in the bags you guys already had. Did Nami give you some tips or something? Damn it.

After disappearing for a while, you came back with some shirts and pants. Zoro raised an eyebrow when you stood beside him instead of disappearing inside the changing room again.

“Try these on,” you said, and it didn’t sound like you were asking or suggesting something. “You basically only have a change of clothes, aside from the few others we got at Kaya’s. You need something new.”

Zoro wanted to argue, but you were his weak spot, shamefully. He sighed as he looked at the clothes. “Do we have money for that?”

“That’s between Nami and I,” you said simply, shoving the clothes into his arms. “Oh, and don’t forget to let me see how you look in those. I have a feeling you don’t even know how to shop for clothes.”

With a nod, Zoro finally brought himself up to his feet and walked into the changing room. He wasn’t used to it, so it felt very off. He made a face when seeing himself in the mirror and turned away from it while undressing and putting on the clothes you’d handed him, trying on the shirt and pants that’d attracted his attention the most.

When he tried adjusting the clothes on himself, his breath hitched in his throat. Was this on purpose? Were you doing that with him again? He couldn’t believe it… but he wasn’t all against it either. He had to take a couple of deep breaths before he finally left the dressing you.

You sat there, arm folded on the back of the seat, while your temple rested against your hand. Little interest was in your eyes when you looked him up and down—he gulped, not knowing whether he should look right back at you or avoid your gaze.

Zoro knew exactly where your eyes lingered. The shirt and the pants were probably a size down, so it made the buttons hold on for their dear life while the shirt hugged around his pecs, giving out their shape perfectly. The pants, on the other hand, made Zoro put some extra effort into not getting too excited.

“Try on the light jeans,” you told him, waving a hand in dismissal, and of course, he did as told.

The new pair of pants had you making a hand motion for Zoro to turn around. He did so slowly, letting you gaze at his ass as much as you wanted until he turned to the front again. Your eyes were on the bulge on his crotch and then on his thighs, taking in how thick they looked in those pants. The pants' waistline was also low, showing his happy trail and the v lines. Soon, you were eyeing his chest again. He kept taking mental notes of your favorite spots, though he already knew many of them.

You kept eyeing Zoro as if he were some eye candy, some juicy hunk of meat, and you were starving; you kept making him try on different clothes, none of which he’d take home, just for your own pleasure. He wished it’d bother him, but it was too good to argue with.

“Black shirt,” you’d suggested next.

Once Zoro slipped it in, however, he found a problem. He cleared his throat as he opened the changing room’s door just enough to peek outside. “...It won’t close.”

“Won’t close?” You raised an eyebrow. “It’s the same size as the others, it does close!”

“You see—” He cut himself off with a sigh once he saw you stand up and step closer. You got in the tight changing room with him, closing the door behind the two of you. The shirt was buttoned until halfway up his abdomen, and the buttons were already strained. “You see…” Zoro’s body was hot just from that, but he tried to keep himself calm.

You raised your eyebrows, eyes right on his chest. His pecs were a little pressed by the shirt in a way they stood out a little, and he wished the tension wouldn’t make his nipples hard like that. “That sucks,” you said, trying to tug the shirt closed, unsuccessfully. It made his pecs jiggle a little, at least. “This was one of my favorites.”

Maybe it still was. Your breath was hot on Zoro’s skin as you pressed a kiss right between his pecs. He gasped, stepping back until he met the wall as he felt you squeeze his pecs around your face and then give one of them a bite. If the pants were uncomfortable, they were turning insufferable by now.

“I woke up today looking forward to this, y’know?” You whispered, eyes meeting his. “It’s been a while since I last had some fun with you, and I thought being on an island like this would be the perfect opportunity.” You didn’t even want an answer, just mouthing at his chest again while pulling him closer by hooking your fingers around the belt loops of the pants.

Zoro gasped, whimpering as he kept his upper back pressed to the wall.

“I think I’ll actually get you one pair of pants like this,” you whispered, breath hot over his skin. You lowered yourself to your knees, unbuttoning the pants. “Just so you can wear them for me, y’know? Let me see how pathetic you struggle to fit in them. It’d also be nice to see you cum in those…” Your words trailed off while you lowered the pants a bit with some struggle, having them just enough down his thighs.

You mouthed Zoro through his boxers at first, helping him grow completely hard so that you could finally lower his piece of clothing—the way you let the waistband run against his cock agonizingly slow had him hissing, pressing back against the wall again. His knees became weak for you shamefully easily.

There weren’t any words while you wrapped your hand around his thick and hot cock, giving it a few pumps, but he didn’t think that you needed to talk with a toy, anyway. A gasp came from Zoro when he finally felt your tongue against his cock. It gave his tip kitten licks, wiping away the pre-cum before you were finally taking him in your mouth.

You had no mercy, of course, hollowing your cheeks around Zoro right after moving your head a couple of times. The pause you took from it was for yourself, to prevent your cheeks and jaw from hurting, and not because it was bringing Zoro close way too fast. Whenever you touched a sensitive spot of his, it was by coincidence due to the motion you did, not because you wanted to exploit his weak spots. You were cruel, fuck.

He had to bite his fist to prevent any sound from escaping his lips. His cock was being held up by your hand as the free one gripped on his thigh; you licked along the underside of his cock, from the balls to the head, tracing the veins. It felt heavenly. His breath was all uneven, all broken and permeated by whimpers, with the way he had to keep his sounds to himself. Why did you have to do it to him right there?

Your hands fondled Zoro’s balls, also giving him attention as you sucked on his fat, flushed tip. He couldn’t handle it, no, no, no. His cock was back in your mouth, your cheeks hollowed around it, and Zoro could barely think before he was cumming already. He was fucking ashamed—such a big, tough guy cumming so easily to a sloppy in a changing room, but at this point, he was just your toy, right? He couldn’t argue against that.

You kept sucking even though he’d already come, not changing the intensity in the smallest bit, just milking him until you were satisfied.

“Yeah,” you breathed, licking your lips as you pulled away. “I’m taking those pants and also the shirt.”

There weren’t a lot of words shared before you were up on your feet again, eyeing Zoro up and down, and you left the changing room.

You’d been the one to pay for everything, for your clothes and also his—surprisingly, you’d gotten some clothes that actually fit him. Zoro felt all flustered, unable to talk for a long while after he left the changing room in the clothes he’d been wearing in the first place. His legs felt so weak as he trailed after you.

“What do you want to eat, hm? Want to go to any bar?” You looked at Zoro as the two of you walked. “I’m paying you something for being such a good boy for me.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #one piece live action #opla #roronoa zoro #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #zoro x reader #oneshot #imagine #fan fic #fan fiction #kinktober

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leviscolwill · 1 year ago

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drive me crazy ! (smau)

pairing: bsf!mason mount x reader (+ minimal jadon sancho x reader)

summary: you and mason are just friends, he's just not into sharing you with his teammates ! (face claim: jorja douglas)

note: forgive me for this contains profanities and suggestiveness 😞✋

now playing drive ME crazy ! by lil yachty...

yn.jpg

liked by sanchooo10, masonmount and 4,814 others

yn.jgp searching 'how to start a conversation' on a website

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user92 fittest girl around

masonmount your antisocial ass should've done that a long time ago

yn.jpg i don't need to start any conversation when you're being sociable enough for the two of us 😇

sanchooo10 idk it seems you can hold a conversation pretty well to me

yn.jpg it's all chatgpt's work

sanchooo10 that's what i thought

masonmount

what's going on ?

yn.jpg

wdym

masonmount

jadon ?

really ?

yn.jpg

what you asking for tho 🤨🤨

there's nothing going onnnn

yet 🤭

masonmount

shut up.

you said you'd never date a footballer

or am i the only one getting this treatment 😞

yn.jpg

stop spreading misinformation ‼️

i'm not dating him

masonmount

if you wanted to fuck a footballer you should've just asked me smh

yn.jpg

are you saying i'm ran through sir ?

bold coming from you

he's the one who dmed me anyways 🙄

and you wouldn't have given me his number

gatekeeper

masonmount

yeah ur right

yn.jpg

liked by masonmount, benchilwell and 17,201 others

yn.jpg passenger princessed [tagged: sanchooo10]

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masonmount you really ditched me for this guy ? [this comment has been deleted by its author]

sanchooo10 ur unreal

sanchooo10 u can be my passenger princess anytime you want 🫶

masonmount i'm still her favourite driver bro 😹😹 [this comment has been deleted by its author]

masonmount beautiful ❤️

yn.jpg thank you my masey mase 🫶🫶

masonmount

liked by reecejames, judebellingham and 1,013,816 others

masonmount καλωσήρθατε (welcome)

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madders okay slim shady

yn.jpg do blondes really have more fun ?

masonmount not when you're here

yn.jpg stop lying you're so happy i came here

masonmount you what here 😧

yn.jpg who dyed your hair ?? she did such a good job 😻

masonmount idk but she kept hitting on me i think i'm gna block her

yn.jpg and i think you're delusional

yn.jpg

liked by pasabist, wolfiecindy and 34,197 others

yn.jpg been a hot minute

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sanchooo10 very hot indeed

yn.jpg thank uuu

masonmount more delusional than me [this comment has been deleted by its author]

masonmount i am no better than a man 😞

yn.jpg idk how to tell u this...

masonmount i look so good on this pic

yn.jpg i should have thrown you off the ship when i had the opportunity 😪

masonmount

liked by ur.bsf, declanrice and 1,498,627 others

masonmount my girl my girl my girl

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declanrice finally

judebellingham finally

benchilwell finally

ur.bsf finally

ur.bsf took you long enough 🙄

masonmount took ME long enough ?????

yn.jpg i thought i was gna get my driver's license before it happened ngl

masonmount @yn.jpg AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT HUH ?

yn.jpg always keep your football playing best friends close 🤩🤞

masonmount acting like you didn't reject me a hundred times over 10 years

yn.jpg i'm not sure that's something u wanna say on beyonce's internet bae

yn.jpg oh how much i love you

masonmount idk i thought you liked a certain someone more than me tho

yn.jpg that's cause jealousy looks good on you 🤭

#a litle something before i get to my written fics #little*#hope u like it 🫶#mason mount x reader #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount smau #mason mount x you #football one shot #football fanfic #football fluff #football imagine #football x reader #footballer imagine #mason mount one shot #football smau

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kinardsevan · 5 months ago

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wip Thursday

tagged by the effervescent @perfectlysunny02, and in the same vein as them, don't I have a million WIPs? Yes, yes I do. But also, I mentioned this idea last week. And... well... oops? (And it's entirely their fault because of the violence they chose with THEIR teaser today.)

Alas, I give you unnecessary, momentary, legendary (working title)

Tommy wasn’t supposed to be here. That’s all he could think about; he wasn’t supposed to be here.

He’d had a full day of plans while Evan was on shift. He was supposed to stop by Harbor and pick up a package he’d had shipped there and forgot to bring home the night before. He was supposed to have lunch with Howie and Jee-Yun. He was supposed to swing by the 118 and swap keys with Evan because something was going on with the Rubicon’s engine. He was supposed to spend the afternoon figuring out if it was going to be an easy fix or not. Evan would be home before sunset.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

Except, Evan was back at work after being down with a nasty virus for the past few days, and the only thing that had really been helping him feel better was the honey citrus tea from their favorite café. It wasn’t even a drink that his boyfriend cared for that much, but Tommy had introduced it to him the first time he’d gotten sick a few months into their relationship, and it had been a game changer for him. It wasn’t a cure by any means, but it definitely helped.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Natalie?” He croaks out her name, leaning half up off of the tile floor, hand pressed into his abdomen next to his hip. He can’t see her behind the glass casing that contains the pastries, and she hasn’t said anything in a few minutes. The higher he tries to sit himself up, the more pain shoots down his side. “Nat!?”

It takes more than a few seconds, but eventually—too long—he hears the sound of what he assumes is broken glass shifting on the floor. A small whimper.

“T-Tommy?”

“Nat?” He calls back, turning his head towards the back of the counter again. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

She doesn’t respond, but then he sees the familiar flurry of jello-red hair appear from behind the pastry case, and then she’s climbing over the counter, her combat boots crunching glass on the floor as she moves towards him. Tommy looks up at her, his paramedic skills immediately kicking in as he takes her in.

She’s got a cut on her forehead and her hands are bleeding—he assumes from all the broken glass. There’s a slash across her forearm where the knife got her, bleeding pretty decently. His eyes trail down to the side of her apron, the stain spreading across it and her jeans. She’s bleeding from somewhere on her leg. His gaze drifts to the counter and the streak of blood coming across it where she crawled over.

“N-Nat, we gotta call the cops,” he tells her warily.

“What if he comes back,” she asks anxiously, her voice shaking as tears come down her face. She sinks to the ground next to him, ignorant of the glass on the ground around him.

Tommy shakes his head at her, digging into his pocket with blood-coated fingers, fumbling his phone when his fingers come into contact with it. He pulls it out as he looks back up at her.

“You gave him everything, right,” he asks her. “Didn’t fight?”

“No,” she sobs, leaning over him. “God, Tommy, I’m so sorry.”

He shakes his head at her, reaching for one of the napkin holders knocked onto the floor nearby.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he tells her. He keeps flashing hot and cold, and he can feel himself getting clammy. He tries to focus his attention on his phone, dialing the number into it.

“Tommy, you’re bleeding,” she cries.

“I’m fi-…fine,” he stammers, slumping back against the floor. “We’re fine.”

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“5943 Ventura Boulevard,” he rattles off. “This is off-duty Rescue 1701 out of Harbor Station, I need to be transferred to Maddie Buckley.”

“Just a moment sir.” The line clicks off for all of ten seconds, and then clicks back on.

“9-1-1, this is Maddie Buckley speaking,” her voice comes back. There’s just the slightest hitch of anxiety in her voice, like she knows being routed to personally isn’t normal.

“Maddie,” he rasps, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, trying to get the tears out of them.

“Tommy,” she replies, her voice suddenly flooded with panic. “What’s going on? Is Evan- a-are you- is Howie-…”

“They’re fine,” he chokes out. “B-but, I need RA and police. S-Stabbing at the café.”

His head drops back against the floor, and he can feel his vision getting fuzzy. He looks over at Natalie. She looks even more panicked than she did before. His gaze drifts down to where his other hand is. Blood is completely coated over his fingers.

“N-Nat, I need you to use your apron to apply pressure,” he rasps.

“Stabbing?! Tommy where are you,” Maddie cries from the other end of the line. Tommy rattles the address off to her again.

“D-dont send Evan,” he rasps at her. “God, he can’t find me. You hear me, Maddie? Don’t send him. Do not let him see me like this.”

She hiccups a cry on the other end of the line, and there are hushed voices clearly trying to get her off the line, but she speaks clearly enough that Tommy hears when she growls ‘no’ back at whoever is trying to get her to hand the call off.

“You know I love him, right,” he continues. Natalie presses her apron into his side then and he can’t help the cry that falls out of his mouth. “F-fuck. M-Maddie?”

“I know,” she cries. “Stay with me, Tommy. Don’t hang up on me.”

He nods letting his head rest back against the floor.

“No, come on, Tommy,” Natalie cries, pressing harder into his wounds. “Come on. Stay awake.”

“Trying,” he murmurs, looking around the floor. “I-I, I want to marry him, you know,” he tells Maddie. “He just walked into my life like- like he was always supposed to be here. And I thought I’d lost out on my chance by taking too long to figure my shit out. Fuck, Nat. Yeah, that’s good, keep pushing down.”

“He talks about you being it for him all the time,” Maddie replies. He can tell she’s crying. “Keeps telling me that he thinks you’ll be a great dad.”

Tommy lets out a small laugh and then groans at the wave of pain that shoots across his abdomen and stomach.

“I wasn’t sure, before him,” he replies, letting his eyes slip shut. The phone starts to sag in his hand, but the cry of Natalie’s voice and sudden, sharp pressure on his side has his eyes shooting open again. “Fuck, okay. Okay.” He swallows hard, taking a breath. “B-but if anyone could convince me that we could do it together, it’s him.”

Maddie hiccups another sob. “I’ve watched him lose one relationship after another, think what he’s holding onto is the right one while knowing it isn’t. But I never said anything because I was just his sister, you know? And I know you said he walked into your life, but you spun into his with a literal hurricane and I’ve never seen him… I don’t even know, Tommy. This settled? Happy? Secure?”

“H-he deserves it,” Tommy rasps, his head lolling back and eyes getting heavier.

“Damn it, Tommy, come on,” Natalie cries. “Stay awake, please.”

“s’getting harder,” Tommy slurs. “Maddie, I love him. So much more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. Want him more, dream about him more, choose him more. My life begins and ends at Evan Buckley.” The tears swimming in his eyes finally slip down the side of his face, his vision tight now, and extremely hazy.

“Tommy, stay with me,” Maddie cries. Her voice seems farther away now. “The ambulance is so close. Please?”

“Tell him I love him more than anything else,” he replies, coughing out another groan. “That I choose him. Every day, all the time. I pick him.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes too heavy to open back up. “I love you, Evan.”

#bucktommy #wip thursday #teaser tidbit #this is not my fault #i didn't choose violence first #wip games #fic #unposted

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random-thot-generator · 2 years ago

Text

Don’t Leave Me Hangin’

MANDO x FEM READER

Summary: Reader gets stuck aloft in one of the Kom’rik’s cargo nets and has to call out to Mando for help. Filthy Mando smut ensues.

Warnings: explicit language, swearing, explicit sexual content, porn without plot, well, maybe a tiny little hint of plot, oral- f receiving, PiV, squirting, cum play(?), it’s messy- nuff said, Kom’rik sex, improper use of a cargo net, reader is an idiot who should think things through, Mando is an opportunist, no use of Y/N, maybe? bondage - Mando doesn’t help her out of the net like- immediately, but reader ain’t complainin’

(N/A: The brain fog has FINALLY lifted, and I wanted to write about my most recent random filthy thot. This is the result. It’s a long-ish, smutty one shot. Reader & Mando are in a situationship - friends-with-benefits type deal. I’m picturing like a live-in nanny/housekeeper kind of thing, but I don’t think I ever specified. This is post-season 3, and Mando’s living his best life on Nevarro. He and reader are in a Kom’rik, because I need room for my smut to flourish, and I didn’t want to resurrect the poor old Razor Crest from the ashes. If I missed any tags, let me know. And I hope you enjoy.)

Word Count: 4280

You really should have thought this through better.

That was your first thought after the cargo net stopped swinging, and you regained a modicum of composure. You winced at the sound of the net’s straps creaking under the strain as you tried to shift your weight and then froze. You remained completely motionless, afraid to even breathe, for several more moments.

“Shit...” you whispered in a quaking voice, peering down at the floor of the cargo hold several meters below you. You then glanced up at the winch mechanism above your head, praying it held. How in the hell were you going to get yourself out of this?

It had seemed like such a good plan at the time. You had just stepped out of the Kom’rik’s small ‘fresher, having showered and changed into your sleep shirt before bed, when you’d felt the ship drop out of hyperspace with a small lurch. You heard something clatter in the cargo hold below and blew out a tired sigh, knowing it was probably nothing but also knowing you wouldn’t be able to rest until you checked it out.

Grumbling under your breath, you had climbed down into the hold. Only the emergency lights were on, the ceiling and corners hidden in shadow, but you spotted something lying near a tier of shelves attached to the hull’s interior wall. It was one of the kid’s favorite cookies, the teal ones with the creme filling. Peering up into the gloom, you spied an opened foil sleeve of cookies perched on the edge of the highest shelf.

“How the hell did he even get up there?” you said aloud, shaking your head. Jedi training aside, the kid was far too much like his dad, a little risk-taker. You heaved a sigh, with no small amount of exasperation.

Stars only knew what else he had left up there. Come to think of it, you had given him your datapad earlier to watch cartoons and hadn’t seen it since. Sighing in frustration, you began looking for a way to reach the top shelf. The propulsor lift was still charging, so that was a no-go, and you didn’t see a ladder of any sort that wasn’t attached to the ship already.

And then you had spied the cargo net.

It was dangling by its hooks from a mechanized winch and pulley system attached to the ceiling. It was used to keep extra containers suspended above the floor to free up space, its track running the entire circuit of the area for maneuverability and convenience. Designed to hold several hundred kilograms, you were certain it could support your own weight. You could use it to lift yourself up to the shelf, retrieve whatever was up there and then lower yourself back to the ground. Easy peasy, jogan squeezy.

Detaching the control pad for the winch from the wall, you climbed inside the net, lacing an arm through the holes for a better grip, and then planted your bare feet on the cross sections of the heavy straps. It was a bit shaky at first, but once you gained your balance, you quickly ascended until you were at eye level with the top shelf. Tucking the control pad under your chin, you reached up to feel your datapad under your fingertips and sniffed in amusement. You’d have to give Grogu a good talking-to in the morning, but for now you at least had your datapad back. Slipping it and the sleeve of cookies off the shelf, you shuffled the objects around, your grip on the net slackening.

It was then that the Kom’rik made another jump into hyperspace, making the ship jolt with the transition. You shrieked when the net began to swing wildly, feet slipping out from under you as you let go of everything in your hands to hang on for dear life. Panting for breath, heart thundering in your chest, you clung like a monkey-lizard to the straps and prayed the net didn’t break.

So, there you were, hanging above the hold like a piece over-ripe fruit, arms and legs entangled in the net with no way down, because, of course, you had dropped the winch’s control pad when you dropped everything else. You could see it lying on the floor below you, right next to the broken casing of your datapad.

“Shit!” you repeated, leaning your forehead against the straps and huffing out an angry breath. Could this situation get any worse, you wondered. You’d have to yell for Mando to come get you down, which you weren’t looking forward to, but who knew how long it would take before he even came back this way? What if decided to just sleep in the cockpit? Would you end up hanging there all night?

The thought made your awkward position in the net feel even more uncomfortable. Your feet had slipped through the holes, so your legs were now dangling under you, the straps cutting into the tender meat of your thighs. One of your arms was still threaded through the net while the other one was pinned close to your side. You could feel the cold air of the hold settling into your bones and making you shiver, the thin material of the tunic doing little to stave off the chill.

You knew that the longer you hung there, the colder you were going to get, the number your limbs were going to grow. Your feet were already stinging and your teeth chattering. There was no help for it. You had to call for Mando.

“MANDO!!!”

Your voice bounced back at you, making your flinch. Holding your breath, you waited to hear his boots thudding against the metal floor overhead, but nothing. He hadn’t heard you.

“MAANN-DDOO! HEEELP!”

You waited. Still nothing.

Oh, stars, maybe he had fallen asleep in the cockpit. after all. With the door sealed, he would never hear you. Panic began to creep in, shortening your breath as it constricted your lungs.

“MANDO! PLEASE! I’M STUCK IN THE HOLD! MAN-DOO!!!”

“What the hell are you doing?”

You heard his voice coming through the ship’s comm system and could have cried in relief. You’d forgotten the cams located throughout the ship. Stars, he’d probably been watching you this whole time. You were never in danger.

“I... I’m stuck, Mando.”

A gravelly bark echoed in the hold before turning to static. Great. He was laughing at you. “Obviously. Listen, I need to recheck the coordinates in navi and set the autopilot, then I’ll come get you down. Just, uh, hang tight,” he drawled, another garbled sound slipping out of his vocoder.

You bit your tongue to keep from saying something you might regret. You were in no position to taunt or snark back at him right now. “Fine,” you mumbled, and slumped into the net.

It was only a few minutes before the sound of his heavy boots were thudding across the metal floor above you, his footsteps music to your ears. You heard the clang of his armor hitting against the ladder before he slid down into view, feet landing with a solid thump in the hold. He approached at a leisurely pace, seemingly in no hurry, then stopped to stare up at you. His helmet tilted back, black visor glinting in the low light. Planting his hands on his hips, he tipped his head, first to one side and then to the other.

“M-Mando? What’re you doing? Can you get me down now, please?”

Mando hummed, his stance shifting. His arms dropped down to his sides, hands curling into fists. “You must be getting pretty cold, huh?”

You bunched your brows up in consternation. “Um... yeah? It’s fr-freezing down here.”

He nodded slowly, keeping his visor trained on you. “Hmm. Thought so. You’re not wearing anything but my old tunic. It’s not covering much. Is it?”

You quirked a brow at the change in his voice. His smooth baritone had dropped an octave or three, and it had a distinctive husk to it now. His tone was the one he used when the two of you were alone with the lights off and he was taking you apart, dark and sinfully seductive. It made you squirm despite your precarious position, and the net began to slowly sway back and forth. The edge of a strap slid into the crease where your thigh met your hip, and you felt your lower lips part. A low groan issued from his vocoder. Your mouth fell open.

Sweet Maker, your pussy was on full display for him. You hadn’t bothered with underwear after your shower, planning on putting on a clean pair once you got back to your sleeping quarters. Heat surged through your body, both from embarrassment and unexpected arousal.

“Mando...” Your voice sounded so small and breathy in the cavernous space.

“I can see everything, pretty girl,” he told you, taking an unconscious step closer. He was almost directly under you now, peering straight up at your exposed sex. Mortified, you felt the slow trickle of your arousal easing out of your channel. You weren’t dripping, not yet, but the thought of him standing beneath you, staring at your most vulnerable parts had your breath panting out in little puffs. “You... Are you going to... get me down, now?”

You heard the back of his gauntlet scrape the metal floor as he picked up the control pad for the winch. His breath was rasping through his vocoder, the sound of leather creaking as he moved underneath you. You felt the winch catch and then begin to whir as the net began to lower back to the floor.

“Thank the stars,” you whispered, anxious to be back on solid ground again.

You didn’t quite make it, though. You were still a few meters above the floor when the winch came to a sudden stop, leaving you to sway like the pendulum of a run-down clock. “M-Mando?”

“Look so pretty like this, sweet girl,” he murmured below you, and you felt his gloved fingers trail across the back of your thigh. You gasped at the contact. “Close your eyes,” he husked out, voice gone to gravel.

You didn’t even bother to ask why, just snapped your eyes shut and held your breath, waiting. You heard the slap of leather on the floor, guessing it must be his gloves he’d just taken off, and then you felt his bare fingers tracing the straps that dug into your thighs. His fingertips grazed along the edge where the strap met the skin, the sensation making you tense as heat spiraled in your belly, diffusing through your pelvis to spread in a hot rush of slick that trickled out to cool along the petals of your open folds.

“Oh, mesh’la,” Mando cooed, dark and low. “You’re dripping for me, pretty girl.”

A whine escaped your lips, breath catching in your throat as you felt his fingers slide through your arousal, gathering your essence on his fingertips. There was the pneumatic hiss of air as his helmet disengaged and then the ring of beskar ricocheted around the hold as he dropped it to the floor. You could hear the lewd, wet noises he made as he suckled his own fingers, moaning at the taste of you.

“Don’t move, baby girl.”

“Oh, Maker...” you whimpered in a quaking whisper.

You could feel your walls clenching in anticipation. Mando had never used his mouth on you before, said he’d never gone down on anyone before, but as the winch whirred back into motion only to grind to a stop again a moment later, you guessed you were about to find out if this would be his first time.

When you felt his hair tickle the backs of your thighs, an eruptive shudder passed through your entire body. When his nose grazed over your clit, you jolted in the confines of the straps hard enough to send the net swaying, but he caught you and brought you back to center.

“Sh-shh... Easy, baby girl. I got you...” He paused, sniffed. “Fuck, you smell so good,” he hissed out in a rush, and you heard him inhale, could feel his nose right at your parted lips. It was so filthy, so obscene, what he was doing, but it made you quiver with lust, just the same.

His hands came up to grip your ankles, holding you in place. “That’s better,” he murmured, hot breath gusting over your damp folds, eliciting another shiver from you. “Let me hear you, pretty girl. Want to know how good I’m making you feel. Okay?”

You nodded your head furiously, swallowing in an attempt to bring a bit of moisture back into your parched mouth. “Y-Yeah. Okay, Mando.” You didn’t even care that it came out as a whine.

The first touch of his tongue had you choking on air, hips stuttering, not sure whether to rock forward or away from the lapping muscle, but his strong hands held you fast, not letting your squirm away. He dragged his tongue in a slow, hot line from your entrance to your clit, and you moaned like a porn star. You could feel his cheeks bunch up as he grinned at your reaction, and then he flicked his tongue over your pulsing clit again, pulling a sputtering,” Ha-aaa-aaah!” from your gaping mouth.

“You like it when I do that?” he purred lowly into your folds. “What about when I do this?” He enveloped the sensitive bud with his lips, tongue flickering over it with feather-light touches, making you writhe and grind against his mouth. He groaned, then suctioned his lips around it and sucked, pressing his tongue firmly against it. Your plaintive wail echoed throughout the ship.

“Fuck me...” he moaned, panting for breath, his voice shaking. He was completely wrecked. With a desperate snarl, he dove back in with a vengeance, tongue laving your inner folds, twirling around your entrance, lapping at your juices before kissing and sucking at your puffy, parted lips. He was devouring you whole, winding the coil in your core into a taut vibrating spring of tension. Your thighs were shaking uncontrollably, your breaths wheezing out of your lungs in desperate pants.

“Mando! Mando, I...”

You couldn’t even voice a coherent thought, couldn’t tell him what was about to happen, but he seemed to understand, nevertheless. His fingers slid along your pulsing folds to catch at the rim of your entrance, circling it once before slipping inside. Your walls immediately clamped onto the digits, muscles undulating to pull them deeper. He growled at the feeling and latched onto your clit again crooking his fingers in a come-hither motion, the strokes sharp and quick as they tapped out a devastating tattoo against the spongy membrane of your G-spot.

The world went white behind your pinched eyelids, and you weren’t even aware of the choked scream that tore out of your throat as you were blindsided by your orgasm. The spring in your core gave way with a snap and warmth flooded from your center to gush out around his fingers and over his arm, splattering his lower face, cowl and chest plate.

“Ha!” he crowed. “That’s it! Fuck yes!”

You were barely hanging on, your very bones liquefied as you twitched and groaned with each consecutive pulse of your climax. If you had oozed out through the holes in the net to pool at his feet, you wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.

“So fuckin’ good, for me. Look at that. Fuck, I need — nngh!”

You heard the motor of the winch whir back into life, then felt the cold sensation of the floor touch the bottom of your feet. You couldn’t have held up your own weight if your life depended on it, however, and so folded up with the netting as it came to rest on the floor. Strong hands lifted you out the mess of straps, hands moving over you, manipulating you as he whispered feverish words in Mando’a like some fervent benediction.

You felt your back come to rest on top of the netting, the worn fabric of his cape spread out beneath you to serve as a barrier against the rough material. You had yet to open your eyes, jaw slack as you floated somewhere high above your physical body in a state of pure bliss.

Mando placed his calloused hand over your eyes, unwilling to test fate more than he already had. He felt crazed, rabid with lust, his only desire to be buried balls-deep in your cunt.

“Need to feel you, sweet girl,” he gasped at your ear, his breath stuttering against your neck. “Please, I need — “

“Yes! Stars, please, Mando. Want to feel you inside me. Do it...”

He whimpered as he lifted himself away long enough to scrabble at the closure of his pants, shoving them down with his underwear to the top of his thigh plates, a frustrating exercise to complete one-handed. When his cock sprang free of its confines, he moaned in relief, pumping it roughly a couple of times as he spread his leaking precrum over the head with his thumb. With a grunt, he fell between your thighs, notching himself at your entrance, inhaling a deep breath before he sank into your greedy, grasping cunt with an audible squelch.

“Fuuuckin’ hellll...” he moaned out as he slid inside your fluttering walls, grunting again when he felt them collapse around his cock and seize it in a vice grip. It was a struggle to draw himself back, the sensation making his balls draw up tight against his body. “Too good... too tight... Gonna make me cum...” he mumbled under his breath, fighting off his orgasm. When he had withdrawn a about halfway, he couldn’t stand it anymore and plunged back in, thrusting hard enough to shift the netting beneath you.

You sobbed, the feeling of being so full overwhelming, your shaking legs coming up to wrap around his hips, ankles locking over the flexing muscles of his ass. He was driving into you with abandon, the toes of his boots squeaking on the floor to find purchase, bracing his body against yours. His other arm he shoved under your back, fingers hooking over your shoulder to pull you down on his cock to meet each hard thrust. He was growling, muttering curses in multiple languages, hissing as you clenched and pulsed around him.

“Ah, fuck, sweet girl, I’m gonna — Shit! Fuck, baby, where do you want — “

“Inside... Want to feel you cum in me...” you moaned out, another orgasm rising like a massive wave in your core. “Ah, fuck!” you whined.

Your words snapped that last thread of control he had, and he surged forward, thrusting in wild, arhythmic strokes that sent you careening over the edge. Your climax washed over you like a euphoric wave, slow and liquid, a golden warmth that engulfed your lower half before spreading like molten honey.

Mando could feel your walls clamp down and spasm, milking his cock, drawing him in deeper. He threw his head back and came with a bellow, a primal, jagged roar of triumph. His chest lifted as his back arched, his cock exploding inside your walls, pumping ribbons of his thick seed deep into your hungry cunt.

He barely managed to throw an arm out to catch himself before falling forward. He was trembling above you. and when his elbow buckled, his head fell to your chest. His nose was smooshed into the side of your breast, his panting breaths teasing the sensitive bud of your nipple into a hard little nub beneath the thin material of his tunic. He gave a dazed grin at the sight, wishing he had the energy to take it in his mouth, but he wasn’t sure he could even lift his head yet.

“Stars, pretty girl. I think you’ve killed me.”

A breathless wheeze of laughter burst out of your chest, and you reached up to pull down the hand now splayed limp over your face to your lips. You left a lingering kiss in the palm as you crooked your other arm over your eyes, just so the temptation to peek wouldn’t get the best of you. You felt him lift his head with reluctance, his weight shifting, before his lips pressed to yours in a sweet, chaste kiss.

“You alright? I know I went pretty hard this time. I didn’t mean to lose it like that, but — “

Your hand came up to touch his face, landing on his neck instead. You slid it upward to cup his jaw, the feel of his patchy beard against your palm endearing. “Don’t you dare apologize,” you told him and drew him down for another kiss. “It was perfect. The best I’ve ever had,” you whispered against his lips.

He sighed, smiling against your mouth in relief and pleasure. When he shifted again, he saw you grimace. “Did I hurt you, sweet girl?” he rushed to ask, lifting his weight off you.

You giggled and shook your head. “No, it’s not that. There’s something cold and sticky all over your chest plate. It feels... icky.”

He glanced down to see your release from earlier smeared over his beskar, and he chuckled, low and dirty. “That’s your fault,” he teased. “You drowned me when you came the first time.”

Your mouth dropped open and, if not for his hand coming down to hold your arm in place, you would have jerked it away from your eyes to stare at him in shock. “I did not!” you gasped. mortified.

“Oh, you did, pretty girl,” he crooned. “I want to make you do it again.”

“What? N-Now?!”

A full-on laugh rumbled out of his chest this time. “No, sweet girl. As much as I’d love to, I don’t either one of us is going to be able to go another round after that last one.”

“Oh, thank the Maker,” you blurted out, and then winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean —”

He sniffed in amusement and pecked you on the lips. “I know what you meant, mesh’la.” Sitting back on his knees, he rubbed at his face, grinning at the sticky feel of your spend drying in his mustache. He was positively covered in your cum, and he fucking loved it. His poor cock gave a valiant twitch before he tucked it back into his pants and stood. “C’mon, sweet girl. Let’s get in the shower.” He retrieved his helmet, slipping it back on before bending to take you by the hand.

You groaned. “Just lemme sleep here. Can’t move right now.”

“You’ll freeze down here,” he chided you. “Now come on. I’ll help you.”

You whined as he hauled you onto your feet, and you staggered on your shaking legs. He shook his head and turned his back to you, bending his knees slightly. “Hop on. I’ll carry you up the ladder. Otherwise, we will be down here all night.”

You made a face at him, but wrapped your arms around his neck anyway, making a weak hop to get onto his back. Grasping your thighs, he hitched you up a little higher and stood, then trudged towards the ladder at the opposite end of the hold.

“Oh, stars,” you moaned out behind him, dropping your forehead to his back. “Do you think we woke Grogu? We were, uh... ahem... We were, you know, a little loud,” you whispered.

“Well, the ship’s still flying, and I didn’t hear anything break while we were down here, so I’m going to say no.”

You giggled. “He’s gonna get it tomorrow morning,” you vowed. “He was the reason I got caught up in that stupid net in the first place. He somehow managed to get on that top shelf with a whole sleeve of cookies and my datapad.” You paused, moaned again. “Shit. My datapad. It broke when I dropped it.”

“Don’t worry, mesh’la. We’ll get you another one, and I’ll talk to Grogu myself tomorrow morning, right after breakfast. Okay?”

You sighed, a little grin tugging at your lips. “Okay.” You heaved a sigh, tightening your grip when Mando started to climb up the ladder. “I know one thing. I’m burning that stupid net when we get back to Nevarro.”

Mando huffed and shook his head. “Like hell you are. We’re bringing that home with us. It’s going up in the bedroom, right above the bed.”

You gasped in shock, rearing your head back. “Mando!”

His rumbling chuckle bounced off the metal walls of the ship, and a warmth like the sun bloomed in your chest as a smile as big as the Dune Sea spread across your face.

“Okay, fine. We’ll discuss the cargo net later. But right now, I want a shower.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Mando purred, and you could hear the grin in his voice. Taking your hand, he led you into the ‘fresher.

Despite Mando’s earlier doubts, you found out that you both did indeed have another round left in you.

(End notes: Just wanted to mention @saradika because she created the dividers and banners I’m using. She makes them for free. You can check out her masterlist on her blog. Her fics are *chef’s kiss* too.)

#din djarin x fem reader #mando x fem reader #din x fem reader #mandalorian x fem reader #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #din x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #mando smut #din djarin smut #mando fic #mandalorian fanfic

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wandering-tides · 9 months ago

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TNE Fandom where are you?

Sujin shippers where are you?

I have Fics to Rec

I don't really go out of my way to rec fics (and I dunno why I have never done this before on tumblr), but BY GOD, have these two fics taken a special place in my heart.

I ADORE everything about them.

They are both Suho x Hajin ships

But the ship aside, I am so incredibly grateful for the authors to have brought them to life and allowed us to read these absolute GEMS of a fic in this little, little fandom of The Novel's Extra.

Really, y'guys have no idea how giddy and excited I get at every update.

Now, the fic in question?

1. Flowers of Agápē by DescendedGaia (Not sure if the author has a tumblr or any other social media... but lemme know if you want me to tag you :) )

Kim Hajin is a failure. There's no two ways to look at that objective truth. It's a truth that resonates through how others look at and ridicule him. It's a truth that echoes infinitely inside his head, compounding and doubling down on his inadequacies. It's a truth, despite the unconditional love of two parents that soothe but cannot dispel those haunting doubts. Kim Suho is simply perfection. The desperate vessel and ideal of Hajin's "ifs" and wishes. Because Kim Suho, the protagonist of Hajin's novel, is everything Hajin wants to be for his parents and more. But, that same story falls apart at the seams the same way Hajin has lost faith in himself. Yet, as the common narrative dictates, everything begins anew with an innocuous email requesting to remake Hajin's novel, his desperation and desire incarnate.

*** Alternatively, the extremes of Korean culture break Kim Hajin into someone who feels much more acutely, and everything shifts to the left.

This is such a MASTERPIECE. Hajin's characterisation in here is just *chefs kiss*. For me, thats one of the biggest plus points in this fic. Hajin is so much more emotionally sensitive in here and feels far more acutely than in the orignal, as should have been.

This fic has been adressing almost all the points that made me frown at or dislike in the orignal novel and manhwa (and from what I can notice, almost every one too).

This fic is kinda a rewrite of the orignal novel, (tho the author follows the manhwa flow of the story) with added Suho interactions, and such good characterization of Hajin, I fell in love at first read LMAO.

So far, there aren't any major spoilers (unless you read the author end note, where they give their own tid-bits of the chap, which sometimes contain spoilers too, or go to the comment section which may sometimes give you spoilers to the novel lol) If you are caught up with the manhwa, or atleast the season 1 of manhwa, then so far there won't be any spoilers for you!

And I think i'll stop talking about it here cuz if I keep going, I think i'll end up giving in-fic spoilers Lmao

(Oh, btw, this updates every other thursday! So far, it's been consistent in its updates ^^)

So onto the next fic!

2. Mountain To No one by @thek1ngtalks (as k1ng0fn0b0dy on ao3)

There's a number on his smartwatch that leads to nowhere. Suho's gotten in the habit of texting it throughout his day. Today, it texted back.

_ Or, in a world missing Kim Hajin, everyone is worse off. Fixing this starts with (a lot of) text messages between a protagonist and his missing piece.

And Man.... where do I begin? I have SO MUCH to say about this fic but I think i'll end up spoiling the whole fic if I start lmao. It's just so good dammit. Just gonna say that this fic takes after the end of the novel, after the conclusion. Only couple few remembers Hajin in the orignl right? Well, in this fic, nobody does. But Suho is probably (???) Going to be the first to remember... I dunno tbh, the fic is only 2 chaps in (and yes, I really adore it already)

I love what the author did with Suhos character and how he is dealing with the aftermath of... everything. Same goes for Hajin, and I love where they seems to be taking this fic. How they characterizes these two main characters and everything.

Listen, I have a LOT to say but i'll just end up giving spoilers so really go read it for yourself. This is another MASTERPIECE of a fic and I am so grateful for its presence in this little TNE fandom TT

Really, thankyou for such amazing fics authors!!

And that's all from me!! Lol I was so excited while writing this XD (could you tell? Lol)

(I edited this post twice because of all the typos I ended up making in excitement LMAO)

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xmissrogersx · 8 months ago

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Brown Curls | Din Djarin

tags: a lot of Fluff. Grogu’s being adorable like always. Domesticy and family.

my writing is entirely my own. Any adaptation and/or copy is forbidden.

i hope you are enjoying my stories! U help me a lot if you give me a ♡! All the love.

-Hi baby, are you hungry? -I leaned down to take the kid in my arms, to which he responded by raising his little hands to my face, making me laugh.

-Well, let's see what we can have for breakfast.

I began to improvise a breakfast with the few things that were in the ship's kitchen. I was to tell Din that we had to make a stop in Nevarro to buy more provisions.

-And by the way, where is your father? -I asked my little boy, who only had his attention on the blue cookies he was devouring with fervor.

I went down to the Crest in search of the brown-haired man, to find him in the bathroom in front of the mirror with a pair of scissors in hand.

-Din, what are you doing? -I frowned.

-Hi mesh'la —he turned around, to which I had to cover my mouth from my gasp of surprise.

My poor Mandalorian had made a bit of a mess of his beautiful hair, leaving it very short in the front and uneven on the sides.

-I know, I thought I could do it myself. I always trimmed it myself, but I guess I couldn't handle the amount I was going to have to cut…

I crossed my arms and bowed my head, then approached him.

-Let me help you. I know you always did it yourself, but you don't have to do it anymore, you can ask me.

Din smiled, I took the scissors and started to cut the strands of his hair. I snorted under my breath, faking a moan as I removed the long curls I loved so much.

-Mesh'la, it will grow back —he comforted me, as he tightened his arms around my waist, giving me a little bit of a kiss.

-I know... It’s just… I love your hair, Din. Your curls are beautiful. But I know you must get hot looking like that when you put on the that bucket —I finished my lament, eliciting a chuckle from him and earning a pinch on my thigh.

I continued doing the job for 15 minutes. When I finished I took a step back admiring my work of art.

-Ready, ¿what do you think?

He stared at himself in front of the mirror amazed at the result. I bit my lower lip nervous that he wouldn't like it. However, all fear vanished when I saw him smile slightly.

-What do you think? —he asked, sitting me on his lap, to which I frowned in amusement.

-I don't know, I'll have to get used to seeing you with this new look —he pulled me closer to him, our foreheads pressed together.

-How about now? —Our closeness let me contemplate his brown eyes that drove me so crazy since the day he had revealed himself to me.

-Din Djarin, you look stunning, whatever cut you have. You are beautiful. But please, ¿could you grow it a little longer when you're my riduur?

He laughed at my desperate request. In 4 weeks we would go to Sorgan to get married in that beautiful place where a year ago he broke his Creed for me.

I already loved him before I saw his face, but I must say he exceeded all my imagined expectations of what he looked like.

-It's okay, Mesh'la, I promise.

I took his face in my hands and brought our breaths together, melting into one. By the creator, I was addicted to his lips.

I sat hanging from him, to which Din descended his hands, caressing my thighs.

I began to trace a path of small kisses from his jaw down his neck.

-Mesh...Priya...if you keep doing that I'm not going to be able to contain myself, and well you know a certain womp rat is up in the cabin awake.

-You're right...¿how long until we get to Nevarro? -I asked him, resting my hands on his chest.

-About 10 hours —he answered confused by my question.

-Make it 7, and I'll use the handcuffs you use in the bounties —I whispered in his ear, causing him to shiver slightly under me.

-I'll make it 4 —he said seriously, to which I kissed his cheek.

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waywardwritesstuff · 3 months ago

Note

I have a little bit of a hurt/comfort request for Logan if you're up for it! I was thinking something along the lines of gn!reader is already having a bad day and then during their training they hurt themselves with their mutation and it just makes everything come to a head and Logan comforts them through it? If you're not up for it that's totally! Either way I hope you have a good day/night

Summary: Having a mutation isn't easy, despite what all the other superheroes around you make it seem. A mutation that conducts electricity and uses your body as a channel for that energy takes a toll on the wielder. And that wielder is you.

Word Count:

Tags: based on the 90s x-men but with movie logan in mind, hurt/comfort, soft, fluff, boyfriend!logan, electricity mutation, electrocution, accidental self-harm, the danger room, no use of y/n, scott mentioned, nightcrawler mentioned, rouge mentioned, seizures, can be read as platonic or romantic

"You're up!" Scott called to you from outside the danger room. You took a deep breath and walked in.

The room was dark, you could faintly see a few obstacles in front of you, but the rest of the room was hidden in shadow.

"Your task-" Scott's voice rang out over the loud speakers planted in the walls around the danger room "-is to light each set of lighting equipment you can find, whilst also defending from on coming enemies. This is a support style mission, you need to keep the environment as lit as possible so you're teammates can get in and get out completing the mission"

You nod your head hoping he can see you, even if you can't see him.

You also couldn't see any teammates but you could hear small amounts of shuffling, assuming that someone was in here with you.

A singular, fairly dim light turned on in the roof. You assumed this was some sort of night-simulated training course since the little light kind of looked like a full moon.

You took a step forward trying to find the lights Scott was talking about. Taking a deep breath you drew on the naturally occurring electricity in your body, concentrating so the flow would reside directly under your skin where you could use it.

You found a machine with a large lightbulb in it and shot a pulse of electricity through it. It lit up instantly and the surrounding area looked clearer. The danger room had brought up a holographic image of a warehouse at the dockyard.

You went around finding the mechanism around the edge of the dock when you heard shuffling from behind you. You whipped around keeping the pulse in your hand at the ready instead of putting it into the light.

The small amount of light you were radiating gave you enough light to see in front of you but not enough to see further out. The sound had come from the area you were yet to light.

You heard a sudden bamf and Kurt appeared on one of the shipping containers to your right. He jumped again, headed straight for you but you let of a bolt of electricity and pushed him away from you. He almost slammed back into the container, but he pushed his feet against it and disappeared in a puff of smoke again.

You span around trying to find him but couldn't see him. You lit up the mechanism but by the time you turned around, Kurt was already too close for you to bring up a blast. He kicked your feet out from under you and you collapsed onto the ground.

The electricity under your skin flickered and then went out. You got up and focused on pulling your power back. Trying to concentrate whilst also keeping an eye out for Kurt, it was hard to hear since the buzzing in your ears made it harder to hear the subtler noises.

Kurt didn't reappear, but now that you knew for sure you weren't alone and that there was potentially more than one person in the danger room with you, you had to move quickly.

You used the height of the shipping containers to your advantage and made your way up from there. You saw a storm light sitting on the side of the warehouse and you blasted it, making a large part of the dock become lit in a dim yellow glow. From here, you realised who else was in the danger room with you. You looked above the light and saw Rouge floating there.

"Hiya sugar" she smiled at you before making a dive for you

You jumped off the shipping container only to hear Rouge burst through it, she would have taken you with her had you not moved. She ripped open a hole in the side of the shipping container and followed after you. You watched as she flew at you again, charging up a blast enough that would knock her off her aim so you could finish your mission.

You concentrated your fire directly at Rouge and she was blinded by the light that you hit her with. You blast sent her flying back and you made a break for the next set of lights. You only had 4 more to go. You raced over to the still dark area of the docks only to see someone crouched at the edge of the dim light. A big blue mass that could have only been Beast.

You made a break for the first of the four mechanisms. Blasting it from a far and only just hitting your target before you heared the sound of someone landing on one of the wooden boxes beside you. You don't turn in time as Beast's legs are colliding with your side.

You slam into the next box and cry out.

"Apologise my friend" he says in the near distance

Your light flickers and dies out again. You scramble to your feet quickly as you hear a bamf and the whooshing of Rouge flying through the air.

Suddenly feeling very overwhelmed and crowded your body begins to light up. Brighter and brighter as the neurons in your brain work overtime putting your body into fight or flight. But the combined stress and mutational light makes something in your mind snap.

Suddenly your whole body is glowing brighter than ever before, your veins light up brighter than the rest like lightning bolts and all the energy can no longer be contained. The heat inside of your veins boils your blood and the stress on your brain causes something to faulter in your mind.

In a burst of light you let out a large, whole body pulse of electricity and fall to the ground. Everything goes dark even though you can still feel your mutation working over drive. Your body is twitching from head to toe as you spasm out of control. Letting a pulse of energy out each time your body twitches.

The group around you are blinded and are pushed away from the force.

You can't see anything, can't hear anything except the ringing in your ears.

Everything is dark, you are afraid. And then it all stops.

Once the pulsing stops Beast approaches you. Realising what has happened

"We need to get them to the med bay immediately!" He shouts as he scopes your limp body up.

He rushes to the med bay accompanied by Scott, who watched the whole ordeal.

Logan was in his room at the time, he didn't have any classes to teach and it wasn't his turn in the danger room yet, so he was waiting idly by.

But when the lights had flickered and the mansion lost total power momentarily he knew something was wrong.

The way has hair stood on end in a familiar way told him something had happened. And that something was you.

He rushed down to the danger room just as Beast was leaving, with you in his arms.

Logan rushed to Beast and Scott's side. His face stricken with worry

"What happened" he hissed

"They had a seizure. I need to take them to the med bay to check what caused it and if any more damage has been caused" Beast explained calmly though he could smell the anxiety radiating from him.

He let Beast walk further down the hall before he turned to Scott holding him by the collar against the wall.

"What did you do?" Scott was the one in charge of creating and overseeing the training drills. It had to be his fault

"Let go of me Logan. I didn't do anything"

"Bullshit" he had to be involved. He had to

"It was a fucking training exercise I didn't try to kill them. Are you insane?!"

Logan wasn't thinking straight but he didn't care. He was worried about you. Instead of continuing to bother with Scott, Logan dropped him and hastily walked in the direction of the lab. Leaving Scott to pick himself up.

He sat by the benches as Beast hooked you up to a heart monitor and vital scanner. He measured the level of electric currents flowing through your brain and thankfully found that they were back to normal.

Everything about you was completely intact, except for the scars all over your body. In the same places where your veins had lit up, lightning strikes like old white scars had been burned into your skin. The map of you veins now etched into the outside of your body.

Beast informed Logan of this pulling away your shirt to show him.

Logan sighed not knowing how you would take this when you woke up.

"They will wake up right?"

"Yes all brain activity is normal and all their vitals are steady. Right now they are more or less sleeping. They should awake within the hour"

Logan grunted in acknowledgment but Beast could see the worry in the ever growing frown lines in his face

"Logan, if you wish you can stay here. I however have other matters to attend to. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah Hank, I'll be fine" his voice sounded flat. But Beast knew hidden underneath was a valley of worry.

He waited. Patiently. Not moving an inch. His eyes flicking between the heart monitor that was beeping steadily and your breathing figure laying on the lab table.

He heard the movement before he saw it. The barest sound of cloth on metal as you shifted. He smelt your breath as you opened your mouth slightly. Consciously breathing. You then sat up suddenly, startled and confused.

Logan ran to your side and took your hand

"Shh, hey it's ok. You're ok"

You looked around frantically for a moment before locking eyes with Logan

Your breathing sped up as your body reacted to its last memory. You clutched his hand, not fully realising you were holding it as your eye began to light up

"Hey, listen to me. Look at me ok? We are in the lab. It's just me and you. No one else"

You stared at Logan but didn't see him. Not really your eyes were glazed over and partially hidden by the light shining through them. You blinked hard a few times before you fully realised where you were.

On the last blink you saw Logan. His curled hair and whisky eyes taking up most of your vision. And you felt the glow slowly dissipate.

"God, Logan I-" but you couldn't get much more out before your voice broke and tears began to fall from your eyes. Logan wrapped his arms around you, cradling your head against his chest as your harsh breathing picked up slightly

"You wanna try and tell me what happened?" He tried tenderly after a moment.

You took a deep breath in, you heart rate had decreased significantly but it was still too loud in your ears.

"I just...I got overwhelmed. I wasn't expecting Scott to have brought the others in. I thought at least- they would have been holograms"

Logan's chest rumbled in your ear as you heard him growl at the mention of Scott.

"I'm gonna kill him"

"Logan don't. It's not his fault" you clutched his shirt as you said it. Worried he might leave.

Logan noticed this and didn't move

"What happened" you sniffed quietly

"You had a seizure. Too much of your electricity went to your brain and it couldn't take it"

You clutched his shirt tighter. It had been scary living it in the moment. But hearing about it was somehow equally as frightening.

Logan pulled away but didn't start far. Slowly he took your hand and turned it over. At first you didn't see. But then the faint white lines registered in your eyes and you gasped clutching your own hand

"Logan?! What is this?"

Logan took your hand again and tried to steady you as he watched the panic rise.

"Bub, breathe ok. You're fine. Hank said it was from the seizure. The level of electricity you let out left a print-"

You open your mouth to cut him off but he jumps in

"-and before you ask. No, no one got hurt"

You shut your mouth

You pull back the sleeve of your shirt to see that the lightning bolt trail traveled all the way up your arms like a map of the lakes from all across the world. You did the same with your other arm and even pulled your top up half way. Still more imprints

You didn't know what to think. They weren't ugly. But a scar is a scar.

Logan could see it in your eyes as you looked that there was much confusion and pain held there that you were silently holding back.

"Bub? You're gonna be ok. We're just gonna have to help you find your limit yeah? And I ain't gonna let you do another training session alone until we do"

You nod and he pulls you close again. His embrace warm and comforting.

Logan felt like home to you, even after you had snapped, he still didn't run away from the danger you potentially held inside of you. He still let you cling to him, and you could feel it in the beat of his hear how much he cared.

You would get through this, with Logan by your side. Always

I hoped this turned out the way you were hoping. I really enjoyed writing it. It's been a while since I've gotten a request so if you have another please send it in. And maybe even recommend me to some other Logan fans out there.

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