#that you aren’t gonna be there to support him when he’s struggling!!!!

[dip-the-pip]

genuinely starting to hate the mom i work for

[crushmeeren]

thoughts on the bnha guys grabbing/pulling your hair? it just sounds so hot

keep up the work crush ♥️ everything you touch turns into a masterpiece

Hi anonnie friend! Your comment is so kind and when people send me stuff like this it encourages me to keep writing, I appreciate you more than you know! I hope this fulfills the fantasy. (ˆ ̳ , ̫ , ̳ˆ)

⋆ ft. katsuki, eijirou, shouto⋆ ⋆ﾟ꒰ FEM READER ꒱ ⋆ﾟ

master list link

Katsuki, without a doubt, would pull your hair. He’d be the man to fuck you from behind, ass in the air and face shoved into the mattress. He’d spank the hell out of you when you try to stifle your moans in the sheets. He’d chastise you, playful yet mean until your fingers curl into fists.

Doesn’t matter if your hair is down, in a braid, in a bun, whatever style you have it in, that man is forcefully lacing his fingers through it or wrapping it around his hand and yanking you up until your fingertips are all that support your weight. Your neck would be bent at an awkward angle, scalp burning and tingling but the pain would only electrify the blood in your veins and makes your pussy flutter.

Katsuki would snap his hips even harsher than before until you’re crying out his name with abandon, pure sinful noise crawling out of your throat.

The position would bully his cock into you just right each time and it’d be soon after that you find yourself resisting his pull, trying to escape the overwhelming build of your oncoming orgasm. You’d need anything to hold onto for leverage, but he wouldn’t give even an inch. He’d click his tongue and tug harder, a breathy laugh leaving him as he watches you struggle.

Your breath would get caught in your chest when he pushes inside you so roughly you’d face plant if not for the death grip in your hair.

“Katsuki!” You’d gasp brokenly. “Fuck, please please don’t stop.” Your scalp would start to throb at this point and your cheeks would be burning and hot to the touch.

“Fuckin’ pussy is suffocatin’ me baby, you’re gonna cum aren’t ya?” He’d be unbearably smug when he teases you and you’d want to bitch back but you’d have no time to reply because the coil in your belly would release and all your muscles would lock up as you cum.

Your mouth would drop open in a silent scream and Katsuki would give you a throaty moan and speed up the rhythm of his hips if only to drag out your pleasure and work you through it.

Safe to say Katsuki would really love pulling your hair.

Eijirou’s the kind of man who enjoys yanking on your hair when you’re sucking on his cock. When he thinks about how he can control the way you move and the speed at which your head bobs, he gets shivers. Granted, he’s often gentle in the beginning, when you first push his soft tip between your lips and creep down his thick shaft until you’ve almost swallowed him entirely.

He’ll delicately lace his long fingers through the hair at the base of your skull, a barely there pressure to guide you.

He’d make soft sounds of encouragement when you start to really move, fingers curled around the base because you can’t possibly fit all of him into your mouth without working up to it first. He’d watch your features pinch with concentration as your jaw started to ache, sucking obscenely when you pull back and swirl your tongue around the head.

He’d be so sweet and kind it’d rot your teeth, cooing at you while he lets you play into the illusion that you’re in control and you’d fall for it every. single. time.

At some point though you’d get tired of doing the work and you’d whine around his cock in frustration. Eijirou would laugh softly in return. He’d know what you want without words.

Then Eijirou would tighten his grip in your hair until the pain is pulsating and tangible underneath his commanding hands. He’d hold you in place and roll his hips again and again until you can comfortably take most of him as he fucks your mouth like a cock sleeve.

You’d squeeze your eyes shut, nails digging into his thighs but ultimately you’d love the way Eijirou uses your throat to make himself feel good. It’d make your pussy drool and your thighs clench together until he’d be gasping your name and jerking back to rest his cock head on your tongue.

You’d open your mouth and lock your half lidded gaze with his as stripes of his cum coat your tongue and hit the back of your throat. It’d be too easy to swallow it all and the sweet grin Eijirou would shoot you afterwards would be more than worth the sore throat you’re sure is to come.

Lucky for you the man is an overgrown puppy, eager to keep going and make you feel just as good if not even better.

This time though, you’d pull on his hair.

Shouto would specifically fixate on pulling your hair when he’s got you laid out on your back. When he’d be in between your thighs and fitting his cock snugly into your pussy.

Shouto would fuck you in such an undemanding but intense way. He’d get a thrill out of forcing you to keep eye contact with him as he brings you closer and closer to cumming. He’d love the way your lips part to gasp his name when he curls his hips a certain way. Or when your eyes would get so wide and shine with an almost panicked look to them when the pleasure gets too close to overwhelming.

Mostly, he’d pull your hair when you toss your head to the side or squeeze your eyes shut. Shouto would sneak his hand underneath your head, cradling the back of your skull before fisting a handful of your hair and tugging until your throat stretched painfully.

“If you look away from me I won’t let you cum,” he’d murmur in warning, a piercing cold trickling onto your scalp when his hand frosts over. You’d nod if you could but he keeps you motionless. Shouto watches you closely when you bite your lip in lieu of an answer. The reality is you know he’d make good on that promise if you didn’t listen and you aren’t taking any chances.

Shouto would sneak a hand down and press on the underside of your knee, bending it until your thigh is close to touching your chest, your other leg hanging loosely around his hip.

The look he’d give you then could never be called anything other than heated. His half lidded stare would be unashamed and his mouth would drop halfway open as he memorized your expression. He’d easily make you feel naked and vulnerable underneath the weight of it but it’d send you to the edge.

Shouto would lean down until your lips barely touched, waiting until your pussy clenches in response. “That’s it baby, you feel amazing. You’re about to make me cum.” His praise will get you every time and then you’d be cumming, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as you do so.

He’d follow you after a few thrusts and finally he’d release his iron clad grip on your hair, burying his face in your throat and scratch your scalp gently in apology. Your head would throb but your limbs would be jelly and you’d admit that you fucking love when he pulls your hair.

[tojisfourthbiatchoftheweek]

early mornings in the fushiguro household

『••✎••』

toji, from the continuously changing jobs he’s had, is used to a rather fucked-up sleep pattern. he wasn’t the type to sleep from 9 to 6, but rather 2 to 7. he wasn’t insomniac, no no- the sleep always found him- but he was so used to pulling all-nighters in his previous life, that now, he couldn’t go back to sleeping in the early hours of the nights. he was a little night owl, smoking a cigarette at 10, drinking some wine at 11- because, even after his part-time job as a bartender, toji can’t handle such fizzy drinks as champagne or lightweight beer. he’s more of a wine, a rhum, a whiskey or even a strong beer. whatever he can afford. it’s not that he can’t handle alcohol, he just doesn’t enjoy the taste.

after his nightly drink, he’d do some laundry and some dishwashing, squeezing the sponge that’s full of suds, as he had his eyes precisely on the football match he’s been waiting for to start. then, nightly check on megumi- only god knows what the teenager’s doing in such late hours, other than sleeping. but he’s filled with relief as soon as he opens the door, and the loud sound of his snoring reverberating against the walls of his bedroom.

much to his surprise- and delight- since you came in their lives, megumi’s been a better kid. not in behaving, he never was the troublemaker- but megumi is nowadays more open to his dad. he’s much more happy too, not that he necessarily has a smile on his face everyday. but his demeanor is less tense, his expression is relaxed, and no longer carries a very expressive frown, a scowl even. all that thanks to you.

『••✎••』

speaking of, where were you? in your shared bedroom, sleeping with the covers halfway on your shivering body. the night could get quite cold when your lover wasn’t in bed, warming you up with the simple radiations coming from his much stronger, bigger, and imposing body. that’s why, after he checked on megumi, he checks on you- pulling the covers back up, leaving a small kiss on your forehead, as you subconsciously smile. toji wasn’t one to be strong on showing affection, but small gestures like this one made up for it. after the death of his late wife, it was hard for toji to open up. but everything was easier with you. not that he doesn’t struggles with his old ways from time to time- but you’re here.

as the whole neighborhood screams in a mix of rage, laughter, sadness, happiness, toji realizes he missed a goal. and a good one. so he tiptoes back in the living room, sitting on his couch, smirking, as he notices the team he’s bet on has scored a goal. and he bet a whole lot. the lords of football have blessed him.

the night buzzes, with the crowd of people down his complex apartment building all screaming in the pub with each goal- and for the final 10 minutes, you join him, waken up from the constant shouts.

“hey doll. why aren’t ya sleepin’?”

he questions, a visible frown on his face. he doesn’t like it when his pretty baby doesn’t get her beauty sleep.

“nothing, they jus’ keep screaming and ‘s waking me up. so i figured there was a football match tonight, and… wanna watch it with you.”

his eyes widened, but a genuine smile replaced his shocked expression, as he patted the empty spot besides him. it’s not that you hated football, you just were very much oblivious and lost when watching it. so instead of enjoying the game, he’d be explaining to you every move, reminding you of which team you support. not that he disliked it.

soon enough, the match ends, with a whooping 4-1 score from the team toji bet on. it’s euphoria in toji’s head- he’s gonna get money! you and him and megumi are surely going to the restaurant tomorrow night, megumi will get some new shoes or maybe this new game he wants, and you’ll be able to indulge in some shopping, and he… well he’ll spectate. because he already has what he wants. and all he wants is you, and megumi happy.

but the night goes at a fast pace, and before you both realize it, it’s 5 in the morning. but toji doesn’t sleep yet. maybe because it’s his day off,or maybe because he’s too busy admiring you sleeping. the soft, consistent move of your chest, as you breath in and out peacefully. the gentle glow the moon has blessed your pretty face with. the way your breasts are being supported in this tight tank top-

Maybe this is what keeps him awake.

but he doesn’t mind. he doesn’t mind at all. you’re a sight for his sore eyes. a sight he can’t revel in, during the day. but a sight he admires, he adores, during the nights. maybe that’s why it’s already six and you’re stirring up, and the sun is shining in your shared bedroom, and megumi’s preparing his breakfast, and he has not an ounce of sleep in his system. but who cares?

[Pic found on Pinterest, i do not claim credits at all! only the writing is mind 🙂‍↕️]

[bullet-prooflove]

Home: Russell Shaw x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

Nobody in Russell’s life knows about you, he makes sure of that. Not Colter, not Dory, especially not the Horizon Group, even though they’ve tried keeping tabs on him multiple times.

The address he gives is a PO Box and every single one of his cell phones a burner. Every single time he switches one out, he texts you the new number from the road. That’s how dedicated he is to your safety, to making sure you stay protected amidst the mess that is his life.

When he comes home tonight to the house the two of you share, he can’t help but smile when he sees the warm glow of the porch light.

It’s been a gruelling week, reacquainting with his brother, tracking down Doug, getting shot. He doesn’t think he’s slept more than a couple of hours in the past seven days and he feels the exhaustion deep down in his bones as he turns off the car engine.

You’re curled up on the couch with your laptop when he lets himself into the house, wearing his Pantera t-shirt and a pair of his boxer shirts, your hair tied up in a messy bun. It does a little something to him, seeing you wear his clothes, it always has.

The first time you slipped out of those motel sheets and into one of his t-shirts he’d known he was done being a lone wolf. He’d found a mate and Russell, well it turns out he mates for life.

“You’re injured aren’t you?” You say without looking up from your computer.

“No, of course not…” He says and your eyes flicker up to meet his with an expression he knows all too well. He sighs as he sets his luggage down alongside the door. “What gave it away?”

“Duffle bag was on the wrong shoulder.” You state as you set your laptop down on the coffee table and raise to your feet. “Let me see.”

“Ariel, its fine.” He tells you but his girl, she sees right through his bullshit. It’s one of the things he loves about you.

“Russ baby.” You say, your fingers trailing along the zipper of his jacket, dragging it down. “Who are you trying to kid here?”

He hisses through his teeth as you help him out of his jacket, struggling to remove his left arm out of the sleeve.

“You’re gonna be mad.” He says frankly as you toss his jacket over the back of his armchair.

“Why would I be mad-” You trail off as your gaze comes to rest on the skin coloured gauze that’s been looped around his bicep. “You got shot again?”

“Yea.” He sighs as you start to unknot the bandage, he feels the pressure loosen on his arm as you unwrap it carefully. “It’s a through and through. Colt sterilised it…”

“He did a pretty good job.” You say examining the bullet hole in your life partner before you begin to redress it. “The wound’s clean, there’s no signs of infection.”

This is not the first time you’ve played nurse to Russell and you both know it won’t be the last. He was fortunate to fall in love with someone who’d trained as a Medic with the Rangers before leaving the service and becoming a P.I. He’s lost count of the amount of times you’ve patched him up.  

“Yea well, our dad taught him well.” Russell grumbles as you carefully redress the injury.

“You wanna talk about that?” You ask him as you secure the bandage and Russ swallows hard against the ache in his chest.

His emotions on seeing Colter again are complicated. There’s a lot of shit there to unpack. The two of you don’t have secrets but he’d not ready to go into this just yet. He’s too tired, too emotional. He just wants to curl up in bed with the woman he loves and sleep for a week.

“Not yet.” He says, his good arm looping around your waist as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “I just want to be with you right now.”

Love Russ? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[vixensbrainrotts]

Aren’t you jealous? — Takashi Mitsuya

Content: short fluff

Tropes: established relationships, miscommunication

Warnings: not proof read

Summary: You and Mitsuya who have an undying trust in one another. So much so that when Mistuya is being too nice for his own good and then struggles under the reprocution, you just sit back, grin, and watch.

Vixen's two cents: hey! This has been collecting dust in the back of my drafts so I've decided to give it some love and let it see the light of day. I love mitsuya till the day I die and it's only a matter of time till I write something for Hakkai too (cutie). Anyway, remember that my requests are open if you have au idea you'd like to see! Now enjoy!

You take joy in watching Mitsuya grow uncomfortable around the overly-friendly girl who’s hanging off him like a tick. You had told him that she was no good before but he didn’t seem to care all that much, assuring you that he could handle it. Look who’s laughing now.

And when Hakkai comes up to you, face tinged pink with confusion (perhaps frustration?), and asks you why you’re not doing anything. You just smile and say “He can handle it, and if not I’ll know when to step in.”

Kai's eyes almost pop out of their sockets, his jaw basically hitting the floor. "What do you meannnn?" he whined in disbelief. "I mean that he did that to himself, I told him not to." You looked far too relaxed for Hakkai's liking and leaned back against one of the bar chairs on the kitchen island, one hand supporting your chin, the other grasping your drink.

"Youre just gonna let that happen?" Hakkai prompts again, completely baffled. "Yeah, look, he's coming crawling to me already." You smirk teasingly and nod your head in their direction. Mitsuya, clearly displeased, was weaving his way out of the girl's grasp, making a bee-line to where you and Hakkai were, but ever incessant on wooing him, the girl followed right after him.

"Hey there." you started once he entered your circle. Mitsuya and you made brief eye contact, his gaze screaming a plea before he looked to Hakkai, to whom he gave a weak greeting. “Hi.” He breathed, voice exhausted and annoyed as he rested both arms on the counter he was lying on.

"You seem... glowing." Hakkai tries to comment awkwardly, seeing the girl weasel her way to where the three of you are standing. Mitsuya only offers a disgruntled groan in return.

"Takashiiiiii! Are these your freindssss? you wanna introduce me already??? Hahahahahahah that's so sweet!!" The girl squealed and clung herself to his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Your ears rung at her obnoxious laughter, the noise foreign and fake. The air grew uncomfortable when Mitsuya didnt respond,so she took the liberty of introducing herself, drawing out the short speech with elaborate (unnesseary) details, reaching over the counter to shake your hand.

You only looked at her, unimpressed, and look at her a bit pitifully. "This is the catch of the night Mr. Mitsuya?" you smiled down at the heap of a man, and he groaned in response. "Yes Mrs. Mitsuya, it seems that something got caught up in my net." It was a running gag between you two- and your friends to some sort: Mr and Mrs despite not being wed. It was clear that it was forever between you two though, so everyone just kinda went with it.

Little Miss disturbance didn't know of that though, and upon looking down at your hands and finding one (the wrong) ring finger embezzled with a promise ring, her mouth widened. Jaw on the floor and hands clammy, she slowly stepped away from Takashi and retreated. Fast. "It was, ah, uhh, pleasure meeting you mr and mrs mitsuya, let me know if you ever need a babysitter.”

Hakkai laughed out loud and clutched his stomach “You’re the best y/n! Man you totally owned her just now! Fuckin' wear the pants!" Te laughed and clapped a hand on Takashi’s shoulder, who had still not risen from his slumped pose. "You better not hire her though, I'll do it for free, swear I wanna watch your little beasts <3" Hakkai's voice had a serious edge now and he looked at you. "Make sure to tell me if he ever dares to treat you wrong. I'll rock his shit!"

Sighing you nod at Hakkai with a smile "Thanks Kai. Will do." you rounded the kitchen island and came to stand to next Takashi, resting your hand on his arm. "Good evening Mr. Mitsuya.” he pulled his head from the counter. "Good evening Mrs. Mitsuya." his drowsy eyes met yours - smiling as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You smiled back, and before long your lips met his in a soft exchange of endearment.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Hakkai turn red and turn away with a shy smile on his face too.

[flippinpancakes64]

Hello there :>

I really enjoy your content!

I wanted to send in a request with how the cullens would maybe help or react to a reader who's trying to quit smoking? (It's a bit self-indulgent but I need some comfort cause im struggling)

only if you're alright with it ofc !

The Cullens with a reader who’s trying to quit smoking

Hello! I don’t think anyone will be shocked by this since I’ve proven in the past that I don’t do anything but work and play Roblox but I am not a smoker. I’m still gonna try my best to write this tho so hopefully it’s good!

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

If you hadn’t come up with the idea to quit on your own, he would have pushed you to do it

He wants you to live a happy, healthy life

And he hates seeing you hurting yourself in this way

Unfortunately he’s not the best at doing it safely

He takes all of your cigarettes/vapes and sort of forces you to quit cold turkey

And he doesn’t listen when you tell him that it’s dangerous to do that

Sorry

At least he’s supportive tho

Alice:

She’s glad that you’re deciding to quit

She does her best to help you in whatever way that you need

She doesn’t take away all of your stuff tho

She knows you’re supposed to ease into it

And she never judges you if you relapse

But the thing that she’ll never tell you is that she’s really happy you’re trying to quit because she’s tired of trying to get the smell of cigarettes out of your clothes lol

Jasper:

He never really minded that you smoked in the first place

He just wants you to be happy and if smoking made you happy then he’s chill

But as soon as you tell him about how you want to quit he is your #1 support

He does use his ability a little sneakily here

He can increase your feelings of happiness and suppress your feelings of craving or irritation whenever you aren’t smoking

But he doesn’t take everything from you either

He lets you go at your own pace

He’ll support you no matter what

Rosalie:

She is on board

There’s been a couple instances where you haven’t been able to hang out with her when she’s working on her cars due to fear of the smoke igniting something

And again the smell

So she’s there for you

She starts out by taking everything from you

Edward style

But after she sees how much you struggle and once you explain how it’s dangerous she gives some back

And apologizes

And again she doesn’t judge you if you falter

She knows it’s tough and she thinks you’re strong just for trying to get better

Emmett:

He never really minded that you smoked in the first place

But if you want to quit then he is right there at your side

Another one who lets you go at your own pace, he only steps in to help if you ask him to

And he definitely doesn’t judge

I mean, he struggled like crazy when he first got turned

He knows it’s not easy

And also he will beat anyone’s ass who judges you for it

Esme:

She’s so excited for you

She’s never been a fan that you smoked, and she had asked you a couple times in the past to stop

So yes she is there for you 100%

Again, she lets you go at your own pace

She never judges you

You don’t need to hide or try to sneak around her

She understands

And she’s so proud of you for trying to get better

Carlisle:

Obligatory mention that Carlisle is a doctor

He’s never been happy that you smoked

He’s told you multiple times about all of the health risks

And he has encouraged you to quit multiple times

But he can’t make you quit, and he never tried to

So once you decide to quit, he is prepared

He’s got everything you need

Those nicotine patches, nic gum, everything that could help you wean off

He’s just really concerned about you and he’s so happy that you’re trying to get healthier

Vampire! Bella:

She never really cared that you smoked

In fact she thought it was cool

But then over time she saw how it was affecting your health

And she asked you a couple times to quit

And yes she’s stolen your packs/vapes in the past

But once you decide to quit, she’s there for you

She also just takes all of your stuff, forcing you to go cold turkey

And she doesn’t listen when you say it’s dangerous

So hopefully you’re successful

Or it gets really bad and you have to go to the hospital and then she sees that she was wrong lol

[notjustjavierpena]

hear me out! reader very pregnant with Ines laying in bed. Javi bringing Lucas to their bed for a good night cuddle with you. Javi encouraging Lucas to talk to the baby or to say hello. Just teaching him how to be big brother before she’s even born. Family sweetness. Wife getting emotional and Javi too haha.

Greet

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Absolutely love writing them slaying parenthood. Hope you like it!

Summary: You and your husband prepare Lucas for the arrival of his baby sister.

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, Javier loves his family, pregnancy and talk about feelings, fluff

Word count: 2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55035481

Greet

With a relieved sigh, you sit down on the edge of the bed and lean backward to be able to lift your legs onto the soft mattress. Your tank top strains against your protruding belly, crawling up slowly as you maneuver your pregnant body back to sit against a pillow that you have propped up against the frame of the bed. You get comfortable but you don’t really sleep lying down anymore, your pregnant belly weighing down on you to the point where it feels suffocating to be on your back. Any day now and it’ll be over. Thank God.

Today has been a particularly stressful day of growing another human being; you are at the end of the eighth month of your second pregnancy which means that your poor feet are swollen and aching, your lower back seems to want to give out on you, and you have already been to the bathroom three times during your routine for getting ready for bed because you settling down means that Inés is waking up and using your bladder as a trampoline.

Luckily, Javier had noticed your struggles before you had even voiced them in the kitchen, and with a kiss to your hair, he had sent you to bed with a promise of cleaning the kitchen and doing Lucas’ bedtime routine. 

You try drifting off but to no avail; Inés has so much energy - already in her unborn state - that you can see your tummy jumping from how harshly she kicks you now that your steps around the house aren’t lulling her to sleep. 

You settle for holding a hand over where she has kicked last, not sure what to gain from it other than feeling that she’s alive and well. You sigh with closed eyes, shaking your head with a soft smile as her little foot hits you right in the middle of your palm, “You’re giving your mamá a hard time, baby girl.”

“I bet she is but you’re doing such a good job, mamá,” Javier stands in the doorway with Lucas on his hip, both of them dressed in soft clothes for sleeping. Your husband crouches down to put Lucas’ squirming frame onto the floor, trapping him in his arms from behind and talking into his hair, “I know you’re excited but be gentle, mijo (my son).”

As soon as Javier lets go of Lucas’ tiny body, his son speeds across the room, small excited feet padding across the wooden floor, to crawl into bed with you. Javier follows to support him as he throws a leg onto the mattress during his climb, pushing gently to help him lift his weight so he doesn’t fall down. 

“Mommy!” Lucas exclaims loudly when he can finally crawl towards you and he does so with haste. He looks like he might climb on top of you, so you manage to grab him, turn him onto his back, and pull him into the crook of your arm. You tickle him until he squeals with glee.

“I knew I was gonna get you,” you smile down at your squirming baby, and your whole chest aches with love and baby fever. Lucas eventually tells you to stop and you do, wrapping your arm around him so he can use your arm as a backrest. He talks about the horrors of getting his teeth brushed with enthusiasm and you hope it’ll make him tired to babble on about it. 

You find Javier’s eyes as he stands at the end of the bed and you smile warmly. He looks so in love with you that you can feel the heat of his gaze creep up your neck with each movement he does as he joins you on the bed. 

He ruffles the hair on Lucas’ head and kisses you, causing your son to stick out his tongue. He doesn’t look pleased, “Papá, I’m talking to mom!” 

“Lo siento (sorry),” Javier smiles and rolls his eyes with a grin when Lucas doesn’t see. Lucas nods in approval of his apology and goes back to giving you all his attention, love in his eyes as he stares up at you.

With your free hand, you rub your swollen belly, “Lucas, you have to learn how to share me when Inés comes.”

Lucas’ eyes widen at the thought of that. He furrows his brow, not fully understanding what you mean but trying so hard to make sense of it. He looks down at your hand, trying to connect the dots but eventually just confesses instead, “But I don’t want to share you, Mommy.”

“I know, baby,” you reassure him, tone gentle as you explain, “But when Inés is born, she’ll need me and Daddy a lot so she can grow up to be your little sister, and that can only happen when we give her attention and love like we give you.” 

Lucas looks skeptical, uncertain in his expression. He stares at your belly for a second, “No. I don’t like it.”

“But you get to be a big brother,” Javier joins in, squeezing his son’s leg, “And you get to teach Inés all sorts of things.”

“Like what?” Lucas asks, not taking his eyes off of your pregnant belly. 

“Hmm,” your husband tries to think of something to spark interest and you fall in love with him a little more when he starts listing things for your impatient son, “Like how to play with your toys or draw with crayons. Maybe she’ll like your favorite books too. When she’s big like you, you can teach her how to kick a ball like you do.”

Lucas lights up at the topic of playing soccer, “She can play ball with me?”

“If you are patient and let her grow a little,” you tell him.

“But that can only happen if you share Mommy,” Javier says from beside you. Lucas’ excitement fades in a brief moment and he suddenly looks shy in the same way he does when he’s meeting strangers. It turns into sulking not a moment later, his eyes in his lap and you and Javier sharing a look. 

“Mijo (My son),” Javier says eventually and runs a gentle hand over his son’s hair. He accepts the touch, crawling out of your embrace to cuddle up to his father. Javier caresses his back and Lucas gazes up at him when he starts talking, “Está bién sentirse un poco inseguro. ¿Quizás quieras decir hola (It’s okay to feel a little unsure. Maybe you would like to say hello)?”

“Go on, baby,” you smile as a way to reassure, arching your back a little in your position to push your belly further out. 

Javier points to it, “She’s in there right now.”

Lucas stares for a moment before kneeling by you on the bed. Javier reaches out to place a hand just above your belly button and Lucas follows a second after, “Hi Inés. I’m your big brother and you are my little sister.”

“That’s good, Lucas,” both you and your husband praise. Javier pulls back his hand but only so he can wrap both arms around Lucas’ torso from behind. He talks softly, “Go on. Inés can hear you even if she’s inside mamá’s tummy.” 

“Papá says you can play ball with me but I think he is lying. Eres una bebita (you are a little baby),” he says with a little more confidence. 

Warmth surges through your body and tears well up in your eyes, hormones rushing through your system. Your heartbeat picks up at the sight of your boy being a true copy of his father’s gentleness, such a natural at welcoming his baby sister into his own world. You want to move and kiss his little face, lit up with anticipation, but you don’t want to pass up the opportunity to have Lucas bond with his sibling, so you ache silently to hold your son close. 

Javier, as if he has read your mind, does it instead. He leans his head over Lucas’ shoulder and presses a tender kiss to his chubby cheek. Lucas crinkles his nose and squirms but suddenly cannot seem to stop talking. He tells Inés about his favorite teddy bear, about a book you read to him last night, and even about how she can borrow his toys sometimes if she asks. 

And then it happens and you barely believe it. Inés kicks you at the sound of her older brother’s voice, causing your stomach to jump underneath his tiny hand. Your breath catches in your throat and an expression of wonder flashes on Lucas’ face. He pulls back in shock but giggles loudly from slight uncertainty. He looks up at you to make sure everything is okay and you blink a few happy tears away to keep him focused. You nod, “She’s saying hi to you, baby.”

“Hi, Inés!” Lucas says loudly and with a smile. He beams and rocks back and forth on his knees, patting your pregnant belly in the most gentle manner he can manage in his excitement, “When will she play with me?”

“She’ll be born any day now,” Javier answers and you can hear his voice wavering with emotion. He swallows thickly and tries to hide his tears as well, “And then you can get to know her.”

You close your eyes with a relieved sigh at how quickly Lucas’ attitude has changed at the idea of a forever playmate, content in the moment you are having with the two boys in your life. You get a flash of the new routine that you are about to experience and settle into, and in your mind, Lucas is the sweetest older brother, patient and kind in everything he does. 

“Alright, mijo (my son), say goodnight to mamá y Inés, es hora de dormir (it’s time to sleep),” Javier says and begins to get out of bed when Lucas’ eyes have started to droop and he keeps reaching up to itch them. 

“Goodnight, Inés!” Your son says loudly at your belly to which you laugh quietly. He then lowers his voice and crawls to hug you, “Goodnight, mamá.”

“Goodnight, sweetie, te quiero tanto (I love you so much),” you rub his back and hold him close for a long while, smiling up at Javier as you embrace. He smiles back at you, not needing to say anything because you know that he is telling you how much he loves all three of you. 

When Lucas has gotten his goodnight kiss, he takes Javier’s hand and lets himself be led out of the room to his bed. You can hear him talk all the way down the hallway.

When Javier enters the bedroom again, he switches off the big light and crawls into bed with you. After giving you a kiss, he fluffs his pillow and lays down with his body facing yours, “You okay, baby?”

You reach for him and brush hair out of his face, “I think I made the right choice to make you my baby daddy. You’re so amazing with him.”

“I think my wife needs to sleep soon, she’s speaking nonsense,” he teases, taking your wrist in his hand to kiss it. 

“Wish I could, but my feet are so sore,” you complain with a sigh and try to get comfortable in your sitting position, “And I miss sleeping lying down.”

Javier clicks his tongue in sympathy and moves to sit again, “I’m sorry, mi vida (my life), I wish I could remove your discomfort.”

“It’s fine,” you entwine your fingers and place them underneath your belly, “Not long now. I’m just warming up for sleepless nights.”

He chuckles softly, “Inés will be a Daddy’s girl. You’ll get plenty of sleep, I’ll make sure of it.”

“You are winning a whole lot of points right now, husband,” you say and accept a string of kisses to your lips. 

“And if I ask you if you want me to give your feet a rub? What then, wife?” He raises his brows with a smirk.

“I think you might have hit the jackpot,” you grin and wiggle your toes.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Hank McCoy’s sibling

Hank McCoy x sibling!reader

warnings:

a/n: i started writing this fic months ago and when i was halfway done mobile glitched and deleted the whole draft so i gave up out of rage anyways. i dont think i liked how it turned out but idk!

prompt: anonymous: “Hellooo !! First of all i have to say that i love your fics !! Second of all , i wanted to request a headcanon , with being hank mccoy’s little sister?? I was thinking that she is a mutant and she has powers like Wanda. It would be really cool to see is with the other x men. Also her age to be around 14 when the first movie sets place ?( Sorry if i didn’t explain it well)”

being a mutant who had just discovered their powers was hard

what was even harder was that your brother hank had to take you in when it happened

hank understood what it felt like to be different, and luckily he had a good enough job to support you

“just sit here and do your homework. quietly” -hank, seating you in his office at work

“what makes you think i wont be quiet?” -you

“you blew up the toaster this morning” -hank

“it burnt my toast” -you

“listen, okay? no one can no we are what we are. just be calm. if you need help on your homework, let me know” -hank

you spent a lot of time at hank’s work, which led to you two immediately being exposed by charles xavier when he waltzed into your lives

“oh, dear, you’ve just experienced your mutation recently. you’re a powerful one, but you can’t control it well. we can help with that” -charles

he quickly realized it was a mistake to comment on yours and your brother’s…issues

“no! no, y/n, it’s too dangerous. you’re in middle school, you have homework. im not letting him turn you into a soldier” -hank

if you couldn’t tell by now, hank was a bit anxious about raising you

after all, your powers weren’t much alike, he didn’t know how to navigate this

“i need to learn how to control them, or else im gonna hurt someone” -you

you didn’t understand what it felt like to look different, but he didn’t understand what it felt like to fear yourself

“who’s the kid?” -alex

“that’s my sibling, y/n” -hank

“what’s your power?” -alex

“it’s kind of…uncontrollable. i can’t show you” -you

“i know how that feels” -alex

“you do?!” -you

when alex finally revealed his power, it made you excited to show your energy blasts

you managed to keep them mostly contained and alex gave you a huge high five

“stay away from him, y/n. he’s not a good influence” -hank

“but we have similar powers. im not alone!” -you

“doesn’t mean you need to be friends” -hank

the rest of the gang was super sweet to you, but you had to remind them you were young, not little

“you’re probably the strongest out of all of us, kiddo” -raven

sean liked to pretend like you were super scary and cower whenever you looked at him

“no please dont hurt me!!!” -sean, convincingly but sarcastically

you became everyone’s little sibling

“admit it, we’ve never been closer” -you

“yeah, you’re right” -hank

“and we aren’t so lonely” -you

“that’s also true” -hank

“so why are you acting so protective and jealous” -you

“im just used to it being us two” -hank

“yeah but now we aren’t struggling, we have all this space to move around and time to focus on important things. i can finally use my powers without getting scared!” -you

“are you still keeping up with your schoolwork?” -hank

“stop worrying so much, hank” -you

regardless of his protests, you still geared up to fight and it infuriated him

what infuriated you was that he was blue

“what. the hell. did you do?” -you

“im the adult here, why are you in that suit. y/n’s not going on this mission. and watch your language!” -hank

you nearly gave him a heart attack, but by the end of the fight he was proud of you. truly.

for a short time, the remainer of the team stayed together

alex and you trained together often

“hey! only i can bully hank” -you

“oh, you’re making rules now?” -alex

“i am the boss around here” -you

charles admired how far you’d come

and hank was honestly grateful he wasn’t raising you alone

you continued your schooling and just as you graduated, charles offered you a job teaching at the school for gifted youngsters

but it shortly closed after that, leaving you without much of a purpose

“hank, i think i need to go off on my own” -you

“it’s too dangerous, y/n. you’re much better off here” -hank

“you mean with you and charles? two of the most self-hating mutants i know? charles is injecting himself with medication to stop his powers. medication YOU made. how long until you make one for me so im not so ‘dangerous’ anymore” -you

“what could you possibly do out there?” -hank

“i already got a job as a teacher, hank. i’m off to go live my life. call me if you need me” -you

he did call you later, rambling about a mutant from the future preventing a war or something. just that you needed to come back

“y/n, good to see you” -logan

“do i know you?” -you

“apparently he knows all of us” -charles

“thats not weird” -you, sarcastically

it’d been a while since you’d seen any action, so it was a little refreshing doing something like breaking into the pentagon

“after this, maybe we could go out sometime” -peter

“get away from them!” -hank

“i got this hank—kid, i’m too old for you” -you

“you’re barely five years older than me” -peter

“you’re seventeen. go away.” -you

you and hank laughed about it later

really, it was weird seeing erik and raven again. even charles with his shit together. it was like old times

you just wished it could stick

you left before any more damage could be done to your personal life and gave hank a big hug

“be safe. don’t do anything stupid” -you

“hey, thats what i was gonna say” -hank

you went back to your life and soon got a call from charles

a job offer, the school was opening again

“come home, y/n. hank misses you” -charles

it took some convincing, but you came back

and maybe this time things would be different

you got your classes and were ready to start teaching a new generation of mutants the way you wished you were taught

(sorry i cut this short i ran out of ideas 😭)

taglist: @locke-writes // @randomawesomeperson102 // @captainshazamerica // @dindjarinsspouse // @summersimmerus // @simp-legend // @nekoannie-chan // @groovy-lady // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[strawberrystepmom]

f!reader, gojo and reader are in a semi established relationship aka idiots in love. reader is struggling with her self esteem a bit and he's there to remind her she's more than she thinks. wc 1.2k

divider by the ever wonderful @/cafekitsune

Standing off the grass and in the dirt next to Gojo, you smile when your students pass by on their way back inside from the training fields. Yuuta offers a half hearted thumbs up and Maki nods in your direction while dabbing the droplets of sweat off of her forehead, and Panda and Inumaki both rush to catch up with them.

“You guys did great today, keep up the good work!”

The group of four that you tend to groans collectively at your praise and you watch as the first year students continue spending time on the field, Megumi and Yuuji sparring while Nobara sits on the ground next to them and fires the two of them up enough that they both turn their heads to give back whatever she’s giving them. 

Giggling, you shake your head recalling how it felt to be in Nobara’s position during your own days as a student. There were plenty of times your mouthiness encouraged both Yu and Kento to act out and you take pains to never mention how often you’d run your mouth in Suguru’s direction, the memories painful to recall. Despite the cold tinge of sadness on each thought, amusement colors the rest when you consider how cyclical all things truly are. You and them and future students and forever. It continues on and on and on.

It’s just the way things are.

Shifting your face toward your fellow teacher whose hands are in his pockets while he stares in their direction, you wonder what he’s thinking. Is he busy daydreaming, thinking of the days when it was the six of you rolling around in this same grass? Recalling how he and Suguru used to clear the field simply to fight after one of them went too far with a joke?

All you can do is sigh, digging the toe of your sneaker into the dirt below it.

“Gonna go break it up?” 

He shakes his head at your question, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets. 

“Nope, better to let them duke it out.”

Nodding, you understand. There are many fights between your students you’ve managed to forget to break up just to let them expel the teenage angst before it develops claws and makes its way out of them far more violently than playfully kicking at one another and leaving grass stains on their uniforms.

“Your students are really something,” he mutters and your face warms thanks to the compliment. It’s far from the first one you’ve ever received from him and will not be the last but the weight feels different coming from The Strongest. “You’ve done a great job with Okkotsu.”

You shrug. 

“He’s so good, Satoru. It’s all him, he just needs a little support. He’s sensitive.”

Pausing, you sigh and rub your hands over the thighs of your pants, a grounding gesture to cope with the embarrassing ordeal of being complimented by your longtime friend, sometimes boyfriend, sometimes future husband, sometimes you don’t know, but fellow teacher to be certain. He's someone you deeply respect regardless.

“Besides, I’m just here to remind them what it’s like to not be special. They’ll all far surpass me in no time.”

Satoru’s blindfold covers his eyes but you are so acutely aware of every move that he makes, you feel his eyes on you even covered. Shifting, you look up at him and wonder what has caught his attention, but a cursory glance tells you that he’s simply looking at you. Despite the years, despite how many times that gaze has landed on you, you still feel so exposed beneath it no matter the circumstance.

This man knows you inside out and there’s no hiding from the truth in that unnerving fact. No one is more aware of how irreplaceable and unique you are than Gojo Satoru and he knows it as intrinsically as he knows his own status. 

“You think you aren’t special?”

Another flip shrug buys you the time needed to think of a response. Sliding your hands off of your thighs, you settle on folded arms over your chest to find comfort - a posture you’ve perfected as a defense mechanism. Despite your body language, how you feel is written all over your face and you cast your eyes down toward the ground.

“I know it. It’s not the end of the world to not be special.”

He scoffs, following the noise with a chuckle but you can’t quite place what it means. Is he amused by the fact you’ve humbled enough you can finally acknowledge you aren’t the strongest, or at least that you’ll never live up to him? That you aren’t special? That you’re just normal compared to the world you live in?

Maybe ten years ago he’d be pleased but now? He’s offended you’d think anything less.

“Well, you are and I can guarantee that those kids think so too.”

He isn’t bluffing, having overheard them talk about how lucky they feel to be under your tutelage more than once. Granted, it has been an opening for him to let them know that he should forever be their favorite teacher which has only ever been met with rolling eyes and unimpressed grunts, but he knows it.

“Oh, you think so?” 

Something in your voice is delicate, light as air, and he wishes he could reach out and capture it between his hands and keep it forever. He has a knack for saying the wrong thing, especially to you, but this time he got it just right and he silently pats himself on the back with a nod and a smirk.

“I know so and hey, I also know someone else who thinks you’re pretty special while we’re on the subject…”

He trails off and you raise a brow.

“Oh do you now?”

“Yup,” he pops the p, something you always laugh at, and you smile so big that your cheeks begin to ache. “He’s tall, he’s handsome, his dic-”

His words evaporate on his tongue the second he hears a grunt from across the field and turns his head to see Nobara standing over Megumi with her head turned over her shoulder, yelling at the pink haired boy running away from her.

“Itadori, get back here!”

The two of you laugh, shaking your heads in unison. You side step once, twice, three times to close the gap between the two of your bodies and you brush your shoulder against his bicep with a wry half smile.

“Well, if you see him, tell that handsome, tall, well endowed man that I appreciate it and I have two weeks worth of my shows to catch up on if he’d like to join tonight.”

Raising your brows, he nods.

“He’ll be there.”

Whatever trace of sadness lingered in you appears to be gone as you fix your posture and head in the direction opposite him, looking over your shoulder to watch him interact with his own students, Nobara waving her hands wildly as she explains what happened and Yuuji still standing several feet away from her waiting for her temper tantrum to pass.

“Hey!”

You hear your name being called in the distance and turn your head toward the entrance to the building, Yuuta sticking out of the door and waving his arm and trying to get your attention. Nodding, you jog over but not without stopping just short of going inside to watch Satoru and his students all arguing with each other.

“Thank you for helping me today,” Yuuta offers with a shy smile and you reach up to pat the top of his head affectionately. The others have already started to ascend the stairs but holler their various praises in your direction and your cheeks feel warm once more.

You may not be the strongest but watching your students grow into the incredible people they will be beats any old powerful birthright.

[soapyghostie]

I’ve been playing acnh a lot recently and was thinking of how Jason, Micheal and Danny johnson would react to it, learning how to play it etc, do you think they’d enjoy it or not care? :)

Um… I know I’ve been gone for a long time. I don’t know. I just had this itch to write today and decided to do this ask that’s been in my inbox forever. Hope you like it.

Jason Voorhees

Jason is a curious observer. The first time he saw you playing Animal Crossing, Jason watched from a distance silently so as to not disturb you playing your game. He could see how engrossed and passionate you were about the game when studying your facial features. It makes him happy to see you happy. 

He wouldn’t express much interest in the game mechanics or the adorable characters, but he does find amusement in the peaceful and carefree nature of the virtual world. The game reminds him a lot of Crystal Lake and the measures he takes to protect it, assuming the main point of the game is to protect the forest, right? 

If you ever sit down with Jason and try to teach him how to play, well it may take awhile to teach him and i mean a very long time. He is confused. He’ll probably tilt his head in confusion, trying to understand the appeal of catching virtual bugs and fishing in a serene village while struggling to figure out the controls. Why do it in a game when you could go outside to catch bugs and fish in real life by the beautiful lake outside the cabin? 

Despite his stoic demeanor, Jason will secretly appreciate the joy it brings you and silently support you gaming endeavors. He may even get on the game and surprise you every once in a while with a virtual gift or gesture to help you with your progress.

Michael Myers

The first time Michael saw you play Animal Crossing, he was intrigued (if that is what you would call it). He’d silently walk around the couch and sit beside you, watching you with a blank and unchanged stare. I don’t know what you’d expect from him. He shows no discernible emotion ever. Anyways, you don’t realize he is sitting right next to you – since you're so deep into your game – that when you do notice him, you get the jumpscare of your life. Thanks Michael. 

Michael finds Animal Crossing so interesting because it’s so peaceful and starkly contrasts with his reality which is full of violence and death. He’s not surprised that you would like something so peaceful, calming, and harmonious. You and him have very different interests and disinterests. Who is to judge though? He’s not gonna judge you because your interests and disinterests make you who you are. You being you is what drove him to you in the first place. 

He doesn’t understand the charm of talking animals and virtual activities, but as long as it doesn’t interfere with his plans, he won’t mind. Michael will tolerate your gaming hobby just as long you aren’t screaming and cursing at your game 24/7 then it shouldn’t be an issue (I don’t see why you’d be yelling at it in the first place). 

If you ever want to rant about your game, Michael is there to listen. It might seem like he’s not with that blank and unreadable expression he always has, but trust me he is. Did you get a new animal friend or new building? Are you frustrated because your best tools break? He’s sitting there taking it all in.

The Ghost Face/Danny Johnson

Out of all the three, Danny is the most likely to take the most interest in Animal Crossing, finding joy in the lighthearted and whimsical atmosphere of the game. He would notice you playing and, with a mischievous smile, offer to teach you how to play by suggesting to guide you through the ins and outs of the game. Spoiler alert, Danny has no clue what he’s doing so don’t feed his narcissistic ego even more.  

Danny, being the competitive person he is, will most definitely turn it into playful competition. He would challenge you to see who could catch more bugs or find more fossils. Stay on your toes because Danny is a fast learner. Once he learns the ropes of the game, he will outperform you any day of the week. 

Danny will often suggest date nights playing Animal Crossing, organizing in-game activities like fishing contests or fossil hunts. Oh great! More competitions. One of his favorite things to do when doing Animal Crossing dates with you is customizing y'all's virtual home. It’s a great time consuming project to be able to express y’all’s creativity together, fostering a sense of unity between you and Danny while sharing accomplishment, even if it’s just a game. 

Danny also enjoys leaving little surprise gifts or notes within the game for you as a way to express affection and to add an element of mystery to both y’all’s Animal Crossing experience. 

[bigbawdy-benzz]

Mi hermoso bebé

Pairing: Miles42 x chubby reader!

Tags: @aaliyahwalkshere @sheluvv-jen @missmyluv

Warnings; none that comes to mind

A/N; enjoy this was the most voted, before we get into the headcannons, everybody is beautiful even if you’re thin or thick you’re beautiful, don’t let anybody tell you any less. your perfect just the way you are!!.

❥ Miles is in love with everything about you, from the way you dress to the way you carry yourself.

❥ Miles who loves touching your rolls, touching you in general he always has his hands on you.

❥ Miles who shows you off but gets jealous when people starting a bit too much.

“I know she fine you can stop looking now”

❥ Miles who helps you when you’re feeling insecure, feeling insecure is forbidden with Miles. He never wants you to feel bad about yourself because you’re beautiful.

“Baby no you’re beautiful cut that shit out, fuck what all them people gotta say mama, they probably unhappy with themselves and have to hate on a bad bitch to get cool points, they aint competin wit you”.

❥ Miles who will kick somebody ass for talking crazy about you or to you he don’t play that shit.

❥ Miles who always has your back.

❥ Miles who helps you eat food when you’re struggling or have a bad relationship with food.

“Baby it’s ok i'm here, I'll sit and eat with you!”

❥ Miles who wants a fashion show every time you buy new clothes or HE buys you new clothes. He’s a sucker to see you prancing around in the clothes he bought you, or that you bought.

“Yess mami gimme a 360”,

❥ Miles who loves seeing you in revealing clothing, the way the clothes hug your body and the way YOU wear them makes him go feral, he just wants to eat you up.

“Ma not gonna lie im boutta bu-”

“MILES”

❥ Miles who falls asleep on your stomach, chest, or butt.

“It's so comfy don’t move”

❥ Miles who loves slapping your ass whenever it feels convienent

‘OW MILES!!”

“What it's fat what you want me to do?”

“Not hit it so hard”

“Okay im sorry ma” He says casually grabbing it giving you a smile. 😁

❥ Miles who buys you anything you want your his princess, speaking of princesses MAJORRRRR princess treatment!!

“pick up what you want princess, lemme give you some princess treatment”.

❥ Miles who is your number 1 supporter anything you do Miles is clapping is his hands rooting for you. You dance at every practice and competition, You cheer at every game, You play sports at every tournament, You make jewelry promoting it in any way possible, You do hair telling ppl they need their hair done REAL BAD.

❥ Miles who makes you feel comfortable around his family when you first meet them, you didn’t want to eat in front of them or even go get your own plate in front of his family because you thought they were gonna judge you, (They aren't like that).

“Bebé deja de pensar así (Baby stop thinking like that), its okay go get some food I will come with you they aren’t gonna judge you and if they do I got you”

❥ Miles who loves you with his whole being and lets you know that, you’re perfect in every way and you don’t need to change yourself for anybody, not even him.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 10

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The reader wakes up.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of hospital care.

“So, I’m gonna make it really clear, you’re going to have your work cut out with her. She’s stubborn, a know it all, unfortunately because she does know it all, photographic memory and all that, the situations she sometimes gets herself in aren’t always great but she always and I mean always has a way out. She doesn’t eat right. Her sleep pattern is worse than a teething toddler and believe me I know” He said looking down at Nathanial in his arms, “but she is fiercely loyal, if you call her for anything, she could be having tea with a royal and she’d drop everything to save your ass or in Laura’s case so you can have a shower without a screaming child and take a nap in peace. She’ll hold you through your nightmares, be your biggest supporter and snap a guys neck if they’ve hurt you. She feels all her emotions at ten times the level we do. Sometimes that’s great, sometimes it’s really not. Now, I’m gonna ask you, don’t pursue this unless you’re sure. Please.”

“She’s our soulmate Clint, there’s no way we aren’t pursuing this.” Replied Steve.

“I know she’s your soulmate but….”

“But what?” Asked Bucky.

“She sometimes, well it’s not my place to say.”

Steve and Bucky both huffed in response. They’d been sick of those words over the last few days. When you’d gripped the bed rail and bent it right in front of them it was clear you were different in some way. Match that with carrying Pietro like you did, Steve and Bucky were sure you were like them. A super soldier.

When Helen Cho entered the room after you’d been sedated, and spoke quietly to Bruce as they set up the cradle, they didn’t miss Bruce’s whispered “accelerated healing” or the mention of having to possibly rebreak some of your bones as they’d have already have set wrong. When they asked Bruce the response was “it’s not my place to say”. The same words were uttered when Steve asked Natasha why her and Clint were her emergency contacts and next of kin.

“You know I’m sick of hearing those words.” Steve told Clint.

“You know what fine, fuck it, yes I know language in front of the baby. He’s heard worse. Natasha and Y/N are his godmothers, he probably knows the f bomb in six different languages already. Look she struggles with the whole soul mate thing.”

Bucky’s head snapped up.

“How so?” Asked Steve.

Before Clint had chance to answer you groaned from the bed, causing the three men to jump to their feet, Nathanial jostling in Clint’s arms.

“Lightsssss, bright light, bright light.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes tightly.

“Shit, I forgot, F.R.I.D.A.Y dim the lights.” Clint instructed. “Good morning you little gremlin.”

“Gremlin?” Steve asked. “Sweetheart can you hear us?”

“It’s from a movie.” Bucky answered “Don’t put it on your damn list, it’s awful. Babydoll?”

“It is not. It’s a cult piece.” Clint replied.

“Whatever. Doll, can you hear us?”

You groaned again and muttered Clint’s name. He pushed past Steve and handed him a wiggling Nathanial, squeezing your hand and stroking your face affectionately. Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hey kid, I’m here, open your eyes, you’ve had us all worried. Laura’s even started knitting again, you know how she hates it, only does it to keep herself busy, and don’t get me started on Natasha. I thought we’d have to sedate her at one point.”

“Natty.” You replied as your eyes started to flicker open.

“She’s upstairs, probably already on her way down.”

Bucky huffed. He didn’t want everyone in here. He wanted to speak to you, hold you, take care of you, figure out how the hell you were here. You started to look around, still squinting, jumping when you saw you were in the Med Bay.

“Easy kid. You’re in the compound Med Bay. You've been out for three days.”

You started to fidget in the bed.

“Y/N, listen.” and he gently cupped your jaw, moving your face to look at him. “You’re gonna be OK kid, you scared the shit out of us all, but you’ll be OK. You’re in the compound. Only Banner and Cho have looked at you. OK?”

You nodded in reply, your eyes full of tears. Clint kissed your forehead.

“Pietro? Did he? Is he?”

“He’s alive. See?” Clint stood upright and pointed to the next room in the bay. You followed his pointing to see you were separated by a glass wall but sure enough there was Pietro. Wanda and Vision at his bedside. He waved weakly at you and you attempted to wave back.

“Careful sweetheart.” You glanced up at the voice, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Hi honey.”

Spotting baby Nathanial in his arms, you reached out and made a gesture for Steve to pass him to you.

“Gimme.”

“Y/N,” Clint said as he perched on the bed “really?”

“Baby, gimme please.” You looked up at Steve with puppy eyes, who realised he immediately had no defence against your sad face and he turned to Clint, not knowing what to do. You pushed out your bottom lip for added effect and looked back at Clint.

“Fine, but you’re gonna need to sit up a little. Clint replied, before gathering up some pillows.

You tried to push yourself up as much as possible and Bucky silently tried to help. Why were you ignoring them? Clint moved around to the side of the bed Bucky was at and placed a pillow under your arm, saying something about it being the best side as your drip was gone, before whispering to you.

“Maybe stop being a brat and acknowledge your soulmates.”

You shifted uneasily and glanced at Clint as he gave you a knowing look, before he gestured at Steve to come around with Nathanial.

“Hello.” You said quietly, not making eye contact.

“Babydoll” “Sweetheart.”

Bucky placed a kiss on your head as you side eyed him.

“Is this a good idea?” Steve asked as Nathanial wiggled in his arms some more. “You said yourself how unsettled he is.”

“Just watch.” Clint laid Nathanial in the crook of your arm, making sure the pillow took most the weight. Nathanial snuggled into you, taking out his pacifier to give you a drool filled grin.

“Hi baby.” You said softly. Nathanial snuggled down more and closed his eyes, gripping on to the blanket Clint had placed over him.

The three watched you fondly as Nathanial drifted off to sleep, as you stroked his face affectionately. Bucky and Steve both felt a lump form in their throat as they watched. Thoughts of what could have been and what could be filling their heads. White picket fences seemed so far away now but there was something about you, their soulmate, with a baby in her arms.

Clint slipped back discreetly from between the two and moved to the other side of the bed. Spotting Natasha and Bruce hurrying down the corridor he gestured for them to slow down and wait, nodding back at Steve and Bucky. Steve slipped his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky mirrored his actions in return.

“We got her back bud.”

Bucky went to speak but let out a sob instead, as tears began to run down his face. Steve pulled him into a hug. You side eyed them not really knowing what to do. Clint noticed your uncomfortableness and squeezed your hand affectionately as tears formed in your eyes. You leaned back into the pillows, shaking your head.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” You almost whispered. “I can’t be their soulmate.”

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@abaker74 @animegirlgeeky @calwitch @slowlyshycomputer @paasrin @cjand10 @otterlycanadian

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter sixteen : absolution (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 4.6k

summary : the reader attends a ball

warnings, etc. : language, angst

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

There’s a visceral sense of dread when you wake up, for several reasons. 

The glaring obvious culprit of your discomfort would be the fact that today’s your husband's birthday. The much more subtle one being the fact that it still sounds like someones revving a podracer out in the main room, clearly indicating to you that the Mandalorian is still asleep. 

You should wake him. 

The last thing you need is the girls coming in to find him in your bed.     

So you sit up, trying to stretch as quietly as possible before getting up and making your way out.

There are a lot of questions milling about in our mind right now, the most prominent one regarding his memory of last night.

Will he remember what he said?

Will you tell him if he doesn’t? 

He seemed pretty out of it, and even if he did recall his words would he even address them?

He has to. He can’t just do that to you. It doesn’t matter how tired he is, he doesn’t get to toy with you like this.

So you step into the main room. 

How is it possible to look so serious while sleeping yet sound so ridiculous? 

You make your way to his side of the bed, gently shaking his shoulder. 

“Mando, you need to get up.” You mumble, still trying to wake up your own brain.

He’s unmoving. His snores are as consistent as ever as you reach down to grab both of his shoulders, shaking him much less gently.

“Get up, the girls are gonna be here any min-“

You don’t even get a chance to scream as you’re flipped onto the bed. In the blink of an eye he’s got you shoved into the mattress. The wind gets knocked out of you, on instinct your hands go to take a defensive position in front of you but they’re pinned into the sheets, his body on all fours hovering above yours. 

Neither of you speaks for a moment as he seems to still be waking up, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. 

“…It’s just me.” You manage to squeak out through your shock and his grip on your wrists immediately loosens. Before he has a chance to react further there’s a single knock at the door signifying that Elaine and Lysa have arrived and as the door swings open you both move too quickly and your forehead knocks against his helmet as you struggle to get out from under him which subsequently sends you off the edge of the bed.

You can’t help but think that this morning can’t possibly get worse. 

Of course it does though because you’re you and for some reason the Maker loves to see you suffer. 

You grab onto him for support before you go tumbling off the mattress and of course he goes off of it with you and of course he twists himself so he hits the ground first. 

Normally you’d be touched by the fact that his natural instinct was to protect you, but you don’t really have a chance to because the wind is knocked out of you for the second time this morning as your chest slams against his when his back hits the ground. 

The girls walk in on the scene you’ve found yourself in and their chatter immediately goes silent. 

Your first thought as you get your bearings is, at least you aren’t on the bed anymore. 

But you can’t help but wish you’d stayed like that as you realize the position you’re in now. Your thighs straddle his waist and he’s holding you against him as you both groan in pain. 

You both turn to look at the girls in sync, Lysa has a look of horror on her face and Elaine simply shakes her head as she grabs the other girl's arm, dragging her out of the room in silence before slamming the door shut. 

You stare at the Mandalorian underneath you once they’re gone. You must look like a tomato with how red your face has become.

Before you can make it any worse he silently grabs you by the waist and lifts you off of him, setting you down next to him, neither of you daring to move further until he clears his throat. 

“Are you alright?” He sounds as embarrassed as you feel.

“Yeah, just a little shaken up.” You whisper back. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“I didn’t mean to, I’m not used to being-“

“I know. It’s okay.”

It makes you a bit sad. What a life he must have known to have reacted like that when being woken up. To immediately be under the assumption that someone is going to hurt him.

He spends all of his time protecting you but who protects him? 

Before you have any more time to wallow in that realization he’s on his feet and pulling you to yours. 

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he’s already heading for the door and you don’t bother trying to stop him as he goes, leaving the door open for the girls to come back in. As they step back into the room cautiously you watch him lean against the opposite wall before Elaine closes the door. 

They both stare at you expectantly but you don’t have any words. No sense in lying and the truth sounds like a lie so you just keep your mouth shut. 

When they realize you aren’t going to explain yourself they sit you at the vanity, Elaine takes a brush to your hair as Lysa hurries off to the closet, she looks more mortified than you do. 

You frown at the mirror and watch as Elaine stifles a laugh.

“It isn’t funny.” You grumble as she continues brushing your hair.

“Of course it isn’t, my lady.” She dons an expression of mock seriousness as you turn around to glare at her.

“Nothing happened, he was just sleeping.” Before the words even leave your mouth you know they must sound absurd as she chokes back another laugh.

“I’m sure he was ma’am.” She turns your head back towards the mirror and you don’t bother arguing further. 

Lysa returns from the closet with a dress you’re sure you’ve never seen before and you can’t help but gawk at it. 

It’s gorgeous. You swear you haven’t seen it there before, it’s a beautiful champagne ball gown, she sets it carefully onto the bed.  

“Shall we go to the fresher? We’ve already drawn your bath my lady.” Elaine takes you by the arm and leads you out of the room. The Mandalorian looks like he’s managed to pull himself together as the girls lead you to the fresher down the hall. He follows closely behind, only halting when you arrive, thank gods he stays outside when the girls usher you in. 

They carefully strip you of your nightgown and Lysa leads you to the tub. Once you’re settled they prepare to take their leave. 

“You’ll need to see to it that you are properly clean, my lady, you’ll want to look your best for tonight, can I get you anything before we leave to continue your preparations?” Elaine cocks an eyebrow as Lysa hurries out, still not making eye contact with you. “Don’t worry about her.” Elaine winks and you frown at the implication.

“Just a book if I’m going to be here for a while I suppose.” 

She nods.

“Right away, my lady. And shall I send the Mandalorian in when I take my leave?”

“Elaine!” You shriek as she leaves, snickering until the door is shut, leaving you to stare, embarrassed, into the bubbles. 

After you have to sit in your shame for a few minutes she returns with a smirk, handing you some raunchy romance novel which you take with a scowl before she leaves without a word. 

You soak in the tub for quite some time. You get through a good third of the book by the time the girls come to get you. 

If you thought they spent too much time dressing you on a normal day that was nothing compared to today. Hours of doing absolute nonsense to your body. They rub unfamiliar oils into your hair and skin, pluck at stray hairs and spend an obscene amount of time deciding what jewelry would look best with the dress. 

You try to find a time to talk to Mando but everytime you think you’ll get the chance one of the girls whisks you away for another unfamiliar skin care regimen until you feel scrubbed and raw. 

They quite literally do this the entire day. By the time they’re done the sun is setting outside your window and you know the ball is going to begin soon. They lace you into the gown. It really is a work of art with its long flowing skirt and the way it hugs your torso. A beaded pattern runs up the front like vines. The color of it reminds you of the way Elaine makes your tea and caf, a light cream color. 

They decided on pearls. Simple and elegant strings of pearls around your neck and wrists. You stop them as they go to do your hair. 

“Can we leave it down? I like it the way it is.” You stare at yourself in the mirror. 

You look nice. Really nice.

Like you.

“It looks good like that.” Lysa speaks up, seemingly she’s recovered from earlier. 

“If you need anything at all, do not be afraid to call for us, my lady.” Elaine says as she smiles at you before they make their way out. 

“Elaine?” 

“Yes, princess?” She turns to face you, Lysa on her arm.

“Send the Mandalorian in please.” She doesn’t hide her smirk.

“Right away, my lady.”

They’re gone and you’re left alone for a few moments as you admire their work in the mirror until you hear the door softly creak open. He doesn’t speak as he enters, closing the door behind him, you smooth out the front of your gown with your hands before turning to face him.

“Can we talk about last night?” You try not to sound like you’re begging but in all honesty if that’s what it takes to get him to talk you’ll do it.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” His voice is cold and unfeeling. You hate it. 

“Please don’t do this.” You close your eyes. You give him a moment, a chance to say something, but he never speaks so you take a deep breath before marching towards the door, he’s hot on your heels.

“Princess, please, just wait-“ He tries to shut the door but you yank it open.

“I’m sick of waiting, I’m not doing this again, now let's go before we’re late.” You snap at him before taking off towards the main hall, the sounds of music and chatter already filling the castle. 

He doesn’t try to stop you again.

You walk until you see a line of people entering the hall, all of them clearing a path for you, as you step into the noisy, bright room you’re immediately overwhelmed. A man immediately to your left loudly announces:

“Princess Harand.”

You cringe slightly at the name as you stare out into the crowded hall.

There's way more people than you had expected. If it weren’t for his tasteless electric blue suit you wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for Kodo. Is it literally glowing? It looks like the jacket is literally glowing.

You have to shimmy your way through the crowd to get to him, eventually, once people see the Mandalorian they start clearing a path. He always stays just a few steps behind.

Get to Kodo, wish him a happy birthday, have a few drinks, make sure people see you, then get out. It’s easy enough.

When you finally make it to Kodo you can hear him saying something vulgar loudly to a group of men, many of whom you recognize from that terrible dinner a few moons back. A fair amount of them take a step back as you approach with the Mandalorian. 

It disgusts you to do so but you lean in to give Kodo a chaste kiss on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, my prince.” You give him the best smile you can muster considering the fact that he repulses you and you’re already in a sour mood because of Mando.

“There’s my little mouse! I’ve been waiting for you!” He wraps the arm that isn’t currently nursing a drink around your waist as he pulls you in for a sloppy, drunken kiss. You manage to pull away from it quickly and resist the urge to wipe your mouth. He holds you at his side for a disappointing amount of time. Dragging you around like an accessory or perhaps a show dog for everyone to see, never even directly speaking to you. That is until about an hour and a half into your time at the ball, he leans in to whisper to you, his breath hot on your ear.

“Say, little mouse, what do you reckon the Mandalorians type is?” 

The abruptness of his question makes your blood run cold.

Married women? Princesses?

You struggle to come up with an answer for a brief moment until he drunkenly slurs in your ear again.

“I’d like to give him the night off, maybe give him a girl for the evening.”

The thought makes you sick. 

Of course, maybe the Mandalorian would want that sort of thing. But you want no part of it if that is the case so you give Kodo a weak smile as you eye Mando, still standing behind you, certainly listening in to this conversation.

“I have no idea, dear husband.” You whisper back. 

Almost as if on cue the doors are pulled open and you see exactly what Elaine meant when she said that this party would get rowdy as the night went on. What must be dozens of girls are ushered into the room and Kodo immediately releases his grip on your waist. 

“Run along now little mouse, perhaps go get yourself some refreshments.” He doesn’t even bother to look at you as he says it, his eyes trained on the women as they make their way over to him. Birthday boy must get to pick first you think as you roll your eyes, making your way over to a table with drinks, gulping down a glass of wine. As you look around the room you can’t help but laugh dryly.

It seems like all the other wives have been dismissed. 

You sip on another glass of wine as you watch Kodo pick out three girls.

Ambitious.

You want to laugh again but you don’t get the chance to as Kodo points behind him and see him leading one of the girls towards Mando.

You hadn’t even realized he wasn’t with you, Kodo must have told him to stay. 

She’s pretty. 

It makes your stomach churn as her fingers trace his chest plate and you can’t look anymore as she starts whispering to him. You look back to your husband whose tongue is already down another woman's throat.

That should bother you more, but you feel nothing as you stare.

Yet when you look at Mando simply speaking to the beautiful woman before him your heart clenches. 

So you stop looking, instead you shove yourself through the crowds until you make your way out of the party. 

Struggling to catch your breath as you stumble through the hallway, kicking your heels off and rushing towards the door you know will take you to the gardens. Desperate for air. 

You don’t hear his footsteps coming up behind you. You don’t even see him until you’re outside the castle, marching towards the forest trail. 

“Princess, please.” You hear the crackle of the modulator but ignore it as you continue stomping barefoot across the grounds. He catches up easily, he reaches for you but you swat his hand away.

“Go back inside, I’m sure that girl is waiting for you.” You snarl before continuing to make your way into the trees. You aren’t exactly sure what the goal is here but you just know that you need to get as far away from the castle as possible. 

“Don’t do that, you know I didn’t ask for that.” He pleads as you turn around to face him, hiking your skirt up a bit.

“You seemed bored and she seemed to be entertaining you just fine.” You hiss, before turning back around and continuing your hasty trek until you finally reach the gardens, settling near a few trees as you look up at the moon.

What’s the plan now that you’re here?

You’d kind of assumed that he wouldn’t follow you yet here he is, moonlight reflecting off of his armor. 

“Go back to her, I’m sure you’ll have a much better time there than you will here.” You grumble as he stands behind you, dutifully as ever.

“I dismissed her. Obviously.” His tone is snarky and his breath sounds shallow as you turn around to better assess him.

He’s panting. It’s a bit surprising considering he’s so rarely out of breath, he’s never struggled to keep up with you previously and in instances of stress he rarely sounds winded.

Yet right now his chest heaves under his armor and he sounds as if he has been chasing you his entire life and has only just now caught up.

“What is wrong with you? You sound as though you have followed me across the planet, not out into the gardens.” You scold him as you lean against one of the trees. Sick of playing this endless game with him as his head falls back in exasperation. 

“This is what happens when one aches as I have ached.” He growls back, taking a step towards you and pointing an accusatory finger in your direction. 

“You… ache?” Your brows are furrowed in confusion at his choice of words as you scoff. 

“Yes.” He drops his hand to his side as he sighs. 

“I don’t- I don’t understand.” You stand up straighter as your gaze softens a bit, he sounds so dejected.

His helmet faces you with such severity that it is as if there isn’t a layer of steel between you. It’s as if you’re staring directly into each other's eyes. 

It’s quiet. The only sounds are his heavy breathing and the occasional sound of bugs buzzing through the leaves of the greenery around you. The modulator crackles every so often like he’s trying to figure out what to say but just can’t seem to find the words. Every so often he’ll stutter out the start of a sentence and then stop.

You don’t walk away this time. 

And you don’t chastise him. 

Instead you let him figure it out as you stare at him, unable to keep the sympathetic look off your face as you try to come off as stern. 

You give him time, he watches you as you watch the moon. 

After several minutes he seems to settle into a calm so you look back into the visor. 

He sighs, and when he does speak his voice is low and hoarse.

“I ache. Day and night, my flesh, my bones, and my mind ache.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

He takes a step towards you.

“I ache in your presence, I ache when we are apart and the only thing that soothes the agony within me is to be the object of your attention. I cannot so much as breathe without being wounded by you. You have buried yourself so deeply within my very being that I cannot escape you. There is not a blade in this galaxy that is sharp enough to carve out the mark you have left inside of me.” His voice doesn’t tremble, he doesn’t so much as stutter as he speaks now. 

You have to look away. You don’t know how it’s possible for someone wearing a helmet to have such an intense gaze but you can’t bear to see it anymore as you stare at the ground. 

“You don’t mean that. You can’t possibly mean that.” Is all you manage to mumble, your mind racing almost as fast as your heart as he takes another step towards you, he’s within arms reach of you but he makes no move to touch you yet.

“I could leave right now. Pack up my things and fly to the furthest outer rim planet I can find, spend the rest of my days alone, and every second of my existence would still be spent wondering if you are okay, what you are doing, and if you are happy.”

He brings his hand up to rest under your chin, tilting your head up to face him once more before dropping it to his side again.

“They could drag me away right now, lock me up, bind me in steel in the deepest cell the castle dungeon has to offer. They could torture me for things I’ve done to you, for the things I yearn to do to you, and I would live out the rest of my days hoping that my imprisonment does not inconvenience you.” 

He takes one more step forward. You’re certain you’re trembling at this point, his voice drips with a level of devotion that you cannot begin to fathom. He’s close enough now that if you listen carefully enough you can hear his real voice behind the helmet along with the modulated version, unfiltered and raw.

“You could force me to my knees right now, make me renounce my creed, tear my helmet from my head, and lay me bare for your judgment. And all I would do is pray that my face is up to your standards.” 

His breathing is labored as he stares down at you.

There is no air of falsehood to his words yet you can’t seem to accept them. 

You want nothing more than to believe everything he is saying but you just can’t bring yourself to, as you stare right back up at him.

“Why should I believe that? Why should I believe a word that comes out of your blasphemous mouth when I don’t even know who I’m talking to?” You can feel your anger bubbling to the surface.

He doesn’t seem to have a response and you’re getting fired up so you don’t bother waiting for him this time.

“Why should I believe that this is not a trick? That you are not simply toying with me to get me into your bed?” You jab a finger into his chest plate as you say it. 

He doesn’t so much as move an inch.

“Every hour I find that I am speaking to a new version of you, why should I believe that this version, the version that aches will not be gone just as quickly as the others?” Your voice is strained as you continue to berate him, the part of you that longs to believe his every word is creeping into your mind as you try desperately to shove it away. “I don’t even know which one I’m speaking to now, so who is it Mando?” 

He takes another step forward and you shove him back this time. You know you aren’t actually strong enough to move him so you’re grateful for the fact that he takes a step back on his own. 

“I know I’ve been cruel to you and I’m sorry, you think it doesn’t bring me shame to know that I’ve hurt you?” His voice carries that gentle tone that always manages to soothe you, the one he reserves just for you, except this time it does nothing to put you at ease.

“It brings you shame? Imagine how I feel. You do not know what it is to ache as I have, you are one of the only good things I have left and I don't even know what you are. So tell me Mando, who have you decided to be today? My bodyguard? My lover? Perhaps you would like to be my rival today, or maybe even my friend?” You feel your eyes growing misty as you fight to keep what little composure you have left. “Spit it out! Which Mando have you decided to be today? I’d love to know who I’m talking to, which one have you decided to be? Who are you Mando?”

“Din.”

“What?”

“Right now I’m Din.” 

It takes a moment for it to register in your brain. And when it does there isn’t room for anger anymore, and there isn’t room for confusion. There’s only room for him, he’s taking up all the space. 

Din. 

“Is that okay?” His voice is barely a whisper.

Just Din.

You don’t want to be mad at Din.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. For everything.”

“It’s okay.”

“It isn’t though.”

“Din is enough, for now.”

You want to take his hand, something, anything to comfort him, to let him know that for now it’s okay, but before you get the chance you feel leather covering your eyes. His hand presses gently against the top half of your face and your vision goes dark. 

And then you hear the hiss of air. 

You let out a small gasp and as you do his lips are on yours. Warm, soft, and needy. 

You’ve read hundreds of kisses. Every one of your little romance novels has them. They’re always rough, desperate and electric. That’s always how they’re described. Like an electric shock.

This isn’t that. 

This is familiar, and sweet, quite literally his mouth tastes like vanilla. (If that’s even possible.) It crosses your mind that this is probably his first kiss but it certainly doesn’t feel like it. As his lips fit against yours like they were made to. As if he were forged just for you. His kiss feels like he wants to melt into you, like he’d be content to do just this for the rest of his life.

But most importantly, it soothes the ache.

He doesn’t pull away, he breathes into you. His mouth is persistent against yours, his stubble scratching against your chin. When you bring your hands up to cup his face you realize he’s holding his helmet up just enough to expose everything below his nose. You settle for resting them on his shoulders instead. 

He doesn’t ask for more.

Just this.

He doesn’t push for anything other than his lips on yours and it gives you a strange feeling of safety. 

And it’s over too soon. 

He pulls away and before you’re ready for it to end you hear air hissing again and his hand moves from your eyes to cradle your cheek.

You’re staring at Beskar, as if he never even took it off in the first place.

“Was that okay?” He sounds almost self-conscious and you can’t help but smile.

“More than okay.” You murmur as his thumb caresses your face.

“I will make it up to you. For everything I did, I will find a way to make it up to you.” 

“Okay, Din.” You say softly as he reaches down to take your hand. 

“No more days, no more rules, and no more games. Just you.” You let him bring your hand up to rest on the steel of his helmet. “I’ll make it up to you sarad.” He holds your hand there for a moment before taking a step back. “I have an idea.”

It feels too good to be true. All of this, and something in the back of your mind tries to remind you of that fact but you push it away. 

“I want you to know me, is that okay?” 

You nod.

He holds his hand out to you. 

You take his hand. You take Din’s hand.

“Would you like to see my cabin sarad’ika?” 

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[zukkacore]

I’m not a Jace stardiamond is a good teacher truther or a Jace Stardiamond is a bad teacher truther I’m a Jace Stardiamond realist. He’s good at being endlessly supportive to shy and scared sorcerer freshman, his reflexes on counterspell or dispel are insane, he spends most of his day making sure the kids in his class aren’t doing the fantasy equivalent of jumping the chain link fence and biting their classmates so even if he did lesson plan (which he doesn’t) he wouldn’t even have time to get to the curriculum anyway. Everyone thinks he’s barely a “teacher” but the fragile ecosystem of Aguefort Academy would easily crumble without him bc he’s so covert about making sure everything looks as easy breezy cool as ice and making sure nobody is poking their nose in his classroom (stupid wizards). He’s good at making connections with his kids but overly familiar with them to the point of being more teacher as friend and. He’s very good at magic and is very good at making sorcery seem appealing and cool and unscary and not a curse (I’m not a perfect teacher but please stick around bc this will literally save your life and by the end of four years you’re gonna love it and yourself) but he’s also personally naturally so good at sorcerery and never learned how to like, work and build on skills to achieve goals that giving the upperclassman actual useful feedback is beyond his reach, and they are frustrated by his limitations but at least he lets them text in class. He has inside jokes with his students which includes the whole “we only talk about how great innate magic is all day” but also if you’re a student who struggles to pick things up he doesn’t know what much more to do to help beyond just. Being supportive. Listen. I don’t know how to help you. The girls who get it, get it. Jace loves when the girls who get it, get it because he was always a girl who got it. He’s the Permissive Parent who thinks he’s Gentle Parent to Porter’s Tough Love, but the one thing they have in common is that when they think a student has promise they’re honestly shameless in their ability to play favorites. Half of his former students send him postcards and invite him to their college graduation and half of them are like Jace stardiamond? Fuck that guy, he literally never taught me a single thing while I was at Aguefort

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 3)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2

Katniss and Peeta have it out during dinner. Bickering over who has a better chance of winning. Asking to be trained separately after that. It is an odd thing to get heated about and Haymitch is intrigued.

“We’ll explore that later,” he decides as the kids leave the table.

Effie tries her hand at small talk. “Tomorrow the tributes will be assessed. How are you feeling about that? I, for one, am hopeful that we might see a victor!”

“I feel like I need a refill.” Haymitch grunts, leaning up from his seat to reach the bottle, “and I feel like you,” he looks to his wife, “need a little bit of the good stuff to take the edge off.” He dumps the contents of her glass onto the floor, replacing it with the malt liquor of his choice.

“I’m going to bed.” Y/N pushes away from the table.

“Don’t be like that, angel.” Haymitch reaches out, catching her around the waist and pulling her against his side.

Y/N smooths a hand over his hair. “It’s been a long day, I’m tired.”

Haymitch begrudgingly releases his hold. “Go.”

“Night, Effie.” The woman waves in parting.

Effie clears her throat, “goodnight.” These people are awfully temperamental.

Y/N returns to her room, making for the tablet on the nightstand. Clicking open her files for Katniss and Peeta in turn. Adding archery and strength to their lists of abilities, then moving onto weaknesses, scribbling in at the top ‘uncontrolled rage and each other?’

Y/N opens that file last; the one where she jots down kind words for the tribute’s families. How they touched her life, how they made a difference in this world and will continue to do so. With the promise that they will live on in their hearts and hers, forever.

When she was reaped, a lifetime ago, Haymitch hadn’t been warm and fuzzy. Though he’d gone to the quarter quell with her maternal aunt. Allied with her to get to the top five, even held her hand as she died, Haymitch can’t bring himself to do much more than drink himself into a stupor.

“What exactly do you want me to do, girl?”

“I want you to help us!”

He’d left Y/N and her district partner, high and dry.

“Help you?” Haymitch laughs, “I can’t help you.” He couldn’t save Maysilee then, he can’t save Y/N now. He wonders if this is still part of his punishment for the force field, cruel and unusual in it’s crafting.

Even after she wins, set up in the house beside his in victor’s village, Haymitch still won’t speak more than a few words to her. That is until the next reaping rolls around.

“Aren’t you coming with me?” Y/N asks.

Back to the Capitol, back to hell.

“Think I’m gonna sit this one out. You’re due to take one for the team, right? I was a shit mentor anyhow. Not you though, you’ll be good.”

She isn’t good. All of sixteen marching a couple of thirteen year olds to their final resting place. Y/N is inconsolable upon her return, mailing letters to the families of the fallen tributes from twelve and shutting out the world.

Her mother, who’s struggled with a morphling addiction most of Y/N’s life, is worse now. Her father, the mayor, makes his best efforts to shield his daughters from it. They do what they can to support Y/N through her victory and the transition to her new life, all to no avail.

In the end there is only one person Y/N wants to comfort her, the only one who understands. She has a new respect for Haymitch after that. There is no pain in the world like this.

It takes three years, three years before she marches up to his door on reaping day and pounds against it, hard. “You’re coming with me.” Gone is the child she was, a woman standing in her place.

“And why would I do that?” Haymitch smirks, leaning heavily against the door frame.

“Because I need you.”

Slowly, they became friends. Haymitch was happy to be whatever, whatever she needed him to be.

She folds the tablet back in it’s case, feeling tears prickle at the back of her eyes. Crying is useless, she learned that sometime ago. Not a single outcome changed or a life saved with tears. Only knowledge and fact driven perseverance can do that. Yet she is more man than machine and sometimes sadness wins.

The door of their suite hums to life. Y/N tries, in vain, to hide the evidence; her moment of weakness.

“You know, you,” Haymitch stumbles in, pointing a finger at her, “have become highly predictable.” Going to bed with him or after him is the norm. Means she’s fine, maybe not great, but she’ll tough it out. Going to bed before him is nothing short of a cry for help. She’s reached her limit. Haymitch knew she was getting there, that’s why he offered the drink.

Y/N heaves in a breath, “don’t say I told you so.”

“Fine, but I did tell you so,” he frowns. For all his flaws, Haymitch does love her and hates that she’s in pain.

She opens her hand to accept the little blue pill in his palm, it’ll put her out for a few hours of much needed sleep. Y/N swallows it dry, forcing it down her throat.

“Lie down,” Haymitch jerks his chin toward the pillows. Pulling back the covers to tuck her in, his wife’s eyelids already heavy.

She babbles out a bit of nonsense, her tongue like lead. Not heeding her command.

“We can argue all day tomorrow.” He promises, soothing her to sleep with her hand in his. Peppering kisses to her knuckles as she loosens her grip. “Sweet dreams.”

————————————————————————

“So besides the bow, what else can you do?” Y/N asks Katniss, prepared to take notes.

“Might help if you look at me.”

“Hmm?” The woman snaps her head up.

“If you’re analyzing me for the next kids, it might help to look up every now and again.”

“I wasn’t-”

“You were.” Katniss cuts her off, with finality. “We’re all numbers to you anyway.”

Y/N offers a smile as she sets the tablet down. “You want my attention, you have it.”

“Don’t talk to me that way.”

“What way?”

“Like I’m a child,” Katniss furrows her brow.

“You are a child,” Y/N retorts. “I know you don’t want to be here and all that anger has to go somewhere.” She pushes off the training room bench and onto the mats. “Show me what you can do.”

The brunette charges her mentor, prepared to tackle her to the ground; only Y/N moves at the last second. Leaving Katniss face down on the ground. This only fuels her fire, she grabs Y/N’s ankle, tugging her off balance.

They carry on like this for a long while, ending with the pair covered in sweat, sprawled out on the mats.

“How can you do this?” Send kids off every year to fight and die. “You’re a mother.”

“I do this because I’m a mother,” Y/N whispers. “You’re not numbers to me, Katniss. You’re people. Who deserve to be treated with love and compassion, given access to every shred of useful information I have. That’s why I document everything. So I never forget.”

Katniss sees her then, as if for the first time.

Peeta finds them. “It’s time to switch,” he says.

Haymitch is waiting to help Katniss prep for the interviews and Peeta will now be…doing whatever this is.

Katniss musters the strength to drag herself away, glancing back at Y/N from the door. “Put that in my notes. Tell my sister I fought.”

————————————————————————

“As you know, the tributes are rated on a scale of one to twelve, after three days of careful evaluation.” Caesar narrates from the television.

Effie, Portia, Cinna, Peeta and Katniss have all joined the victors on the pristine white settee. Y/N slides forward to the edge, while Haymitch sinks back into the cushions. Feeling the familiar squeeze and release of her fingers against his knee as the results are displayed.

District twelve is last, the anticipation rises like bile in Y/N’s throat. The careers score nines and tens, the others a mix of fives through eights. Thresh, of district eleven pulled a nine, his partner Rue follows with a seven. Best of luck, sweet girl.

“From district twelve, Peeta Mellark; with a score of…eight.”

Portia gasps in delight, “Peeta!”

“Excellent.”

“An eight.” Y/N bumps his shoulder.

“We can work with that.”

“Bravo.”

Peeta smiles, relaxing marginally at the news.

“And finally, from district twelve, Katniss Everdeen; with a score of…eleven.”

“Eleven?!”

“I thought they hated me.” After she shot at their pig and all.

“They must have liked your guts.”

Cinna raises a toast. “To Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire!”

Part 4

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @officialjellydoughnut @whoreforfictionalpeople @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k

[seabreeze1969]

Strawberry Pancakes

Summary: Gator Tillman meets OC stripper. She is reluctant to give him a dance, but ends up enjoying it a little too much. He is more than happy to break some rules with her.

Tags/Warnings: strippers, thigh riding, lap dance, power dynamics, paid intimacy, dirty talk, teasing

Chapter One

~Gator

It was the second Friday of May. Every other Friday he found himself sitting in the back of The Tender Trap, a local strip club, with an envelope in his pocket as he waited for a militia man to collect the hefty support of Sheriff Roy Tillman, his father. It was an easy job. That’s why his father gave it to him. At least it was supposed to be easy. But things never came easy to Gator.

As his lazy gaze glossed around the small club, his heart caught in his throat. He wasn’t met with Roxy or Crystal, the usual dancers who would throw him winks every now and again. He saw a young woman he’d never seen before. He was sure if she had been there any of the other Fridays he would’ve known.

Her legs were toned, but covered in stockings forcing him to imagine the bare skin underneath. As his gaze slithered further up skipping over her bare stomach to her breasts he started to feel his pants tighten. The white laced cups pushed up her small tits and had them spilling out over the low top. And finally he reached her face. Her bouncy brown curls framed her soft face, and he couldn’t help but let his mouth fall open as he caught her big doe eyes.

He knew he must’ve looked like a moron sitting there with his jaw on the floor, but he couldn’t help himself. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in person. Something straight off of one of those raunchy old bikini posters he tacked behind his bed.

Before he could stop himself his feet carried him over to the seats closest to the stage where she was entertaining two other men. The closer he got the more her eyes narrowed at him and she suddenly seemed familiar, “Wait a minute. Aren’t you the doc’s kiddo? Miss Grey?” He’d seen her only a couple times when he had to visit the local clinic after a job went sideways, and she looked vastly different in layers of clothes and thick rimmed glasses. But she had given him that same narrow look.

“No, sir,” she shook her head, her full lips turning into a pout, “My name is Candy.”

“Hah, yeah sure it is,” he huffed a laugh, “Anyways, aren’t you a little too smart to be dancing around half naked?”

And then it was her turn to laugh, “If smarts had anything to do with it you’d be the one in heels up here, sheriff.”

“Ouch, sour Candy. You trying to hurt my feelings, girl?” Gator mocked hurt feelings, putting his hand over his heart.

“Were you trying to hurt mine?” She shot back.

“No. How about you make it up to me with a dance?”

“Aren’t you on duty?”

“Nah, I just dress like this for fun,” he hooked his thumbs into the bulky sheriff’s vest, showing it off.

“Won’t it be a bad look for your father?” It was true his father’s election was going to be up soon.

“He’ll be alright. You running out of excuses?” Gator checked.

“I could just say ‘no.’ If you don’t want to take a hint,” she condescended, and that just made him want her all the more. No way in hell was she gonna say ‘no’ to him. He had all the power he needed in the envelope, who would even notice if a couple of the hundreds were missing? Taking less than a second to decide he pulled out the envelope and started counting out the hundred dollar bills that he definitely should not be spending at a strip club.

“Are you deaf? Or just dumb?” Candy frowned, but as he continued to count them she changed her tune, “Holy smokes, where’d you get all that?”

He waved three hundreds at her, “How bout that dance?”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, struggling with the decision, but then she nodded in defeat, “Let’s go.” She hopped off the stage, and took his hand in her own. Her hand was trembling, until she squeezed him a little harder, and he pretended not to notice it. Pretended he was far too preoccupied with the way her ass swayed back and forth in her little white lace underwear.

In the private room there was one lone chair in the center with dark velvet couches surrounding it. As she stepped into the room her white undergarments turned dark red with the lights. She led him to the chair in the center of the room, shoving him down roughly. He made a show of it for her, collapsing into the chair even though he was barely moved from her hands pushing his chest, “Take it easy, baby.”

She ignored him, sliding her hands across his chest into his leather jacket, to slip it off, taking his vest with it. She hooked it on the back of the chair, which still left him in his bulky hoodie.

“That’s more like it, sweetheart,” he grinned as she walked in front of him again. He drank her in once again now that he had her all to himself. Her slim ankles wrapped in the white plastic straps of the clear high heels that were giving her an extra half foot at least. She looked a little unsteady as his gaze raked up the stockings, lingering on the smooth bare skin of her upper thigh. He imagined for a moment how her legs would wrap around him, how he’d grip her hips. The swell of her hips was accentuated as she took a small step toward him, shifting her weight. As his eyes moved up he found her chest rising and falling in quick breathes, her breasts spilling out of the wired corset cups on every intake. Her blush went all the way down her neck, and when his gaze flickered up to her eyes she cast hers to the floor.

“Don’t get all shy on me now,” he admonished half-heartedly, pleased with her little show of innocence. It was charming.

She took another deep breath, drawing his attention back down to her breasts once again, and unballed her fists, starting to undo the bottom of her corset top. He watched her struggle with the little wire clasps that ran up the front for a long minute before he finally huffed a little laugh, “You need a hand?”

She looked up at him with those big brown eyes, and he wondered if it was more than just a show. Then she frowned and gritted, “Shut up.” And he knew it wasn’t. And that made his cock twitch in his pants. She finally got all the clasps undone and then tossed the offending garment on the couch beside her, unable to hide her pride at getting the damned thing off. She locked her arms in front of her, covering up her exposed nipples. He barely caught a glimpse of the pink skin. And then she seemed to realize what she had done and forced her arms behind her back, sticking out her chest.

“I’ve never done this before,” she finally confessed, but he had gathered that.

“I can tell,” he chuckled, “This might be the worst strip dance I’ve ever seen.”

That seemed to set something off in her. He was good at setting people off. Her cheeks were puffed out in anger as she slowly sank down to her knees, not bothering to hide her disgust at the old tile floors. And then she crawled on her hands and knees to him, swaying her hips and holding his stare like it was a challenge. He kicked his boots out on either side of him, making room for her between his thighs. Then he locked his fingers behind his head and reclined a little, the picture of unbothered, indifferent to her. And he saw exactly what he wanted. That angry determination swirling in those narrowed eyes as she let her cheek rest on his inner thigh.

She ran her hands up his shins, to the expanse of his muscular thighs. He felt the heat of her palm reach the bulge of his hardening cock, straining under his cargo pants. Her brow went up in accusation, “For the worst dance you’ve ever had, you seem to be enjoying it.”

“I’m easy,” he shrugged. Then her tongue was licking a stripe over the outline of his dick and his mouth fell open as he was unable to maintain his cool attitude toward the half naked woman between his legs. That had to be against the rules.

Before he could recover she was swinging her hips to the low vibrations of the bass that penetrated the room. She came up to her full height, giving him an eyeful of her breasts, making his mouth start salivating. Maybe he had just fallen for an act of innocence. Massaged them in his face, letting her head roll back as she let a small moan slip past her lips. His hands were moving on their own, in an attempt to assist her, when she slapped them away, “Hands by your side, deputy, or I’ll use your stupid cuffs on you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled out slow, gripping the sides of the chair to keep them there, but her threat just turned him on even more. Having her handcuff him sounded like a damn good time to him.

She swung one leg over his so her back was to him, and crawled down the slope of his leg, leaving her ass high in the air, and his hands squeezing the sides of the chair as she bounced a little on his leg. And then in time with music she was snapping back to sitting upright and grinding her hips just an inch above his thigh, letting him see that she was actually getting wet. Then she stepped out again, twisting to face him and kicked one of his boots so his legs came together before she sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and playing with his hair just enough to make his head lull back and seek her fingers. He hadn’t felt a touch like that in years, something intimate and gentle. Hell, if he knew a strip dance felt this good he would’ve started skimming money a long time ago, but he had a feeling it was just her making him feel this way.

She bit her lip, trying to contain a grin, and he felt like he was losing the game he had set up. But she made losing feel good.

Then the song switched from fast paced to a slow jam and she lit up, standing to dance in front of him once again. She was familiar with the song, mouthing the words as she ran her hands up her body and tangled them in her hair the way his hands wanted to. While she mouthed the explicit lyrics, he imagined her in his ear whispering filth only he would ever hear.

Her body rolled in time with the slow beat and she ran her hand down between her breasts, over her flat stomach and dipped between her legs for just a second before she pulled her hand back and ran her tongue over them, her tongue that was nearly on his dick when he had ticked her off. “You want a taste?” she asked, tilting her head curiously, and only then had he noticed his mouth had fallen open in want. He only nodded, sticking his tongue out as she stepped closer to him again with her outstretched hand. Her fingers were glossy from her spit as she brushed them gently over his upper lip, avoiding his tongue, and then pulled back, leaving him running his tongue along his lip trying to taste her. He thought maybe she was wearing some kind of strawberry chapstick as he savored a distant artificial sweetness.

He hummed his approval, and when he caught her eye again her pupils were blown wide. He could nearly see himself reflected in them. He was in a similar state. And then she stepped one leg between his and slowly lowered her hips onto his thigh, grinding on him in time with the music. Her skin was hot, like her entire body was blushing. It gave him goosebumps under his jacket where her warmth couldn’t reach.

And then she made a noise in the back of her throat that had him choking on the air in the room, which was suffocating him with a palpable heat. It wasn’t an over the top moan like from the porn he usually watched, it was a whine she had tried to hide but it slipped past her lips anyways. It was the sexiest thing he had ever heard in his life.

She bit her lip and looked at him apologetically, “Hah, sorry.” And the weight of her lifted up, before his hands flew out to stop her.

“No, don’t stop,” he lifted his knee in a jerk response, applying more pressure to her clit. He pulled and pushed her waist back and forth over his thigh, making her breath quicken. She was so sensitive, shaking like a leaf as he pushed his thigh up hard against her, with intention. He wanted to give her that friction which clearly affected her. His eyes traveled down her body to find a wet spot on his camouflage, “Gonna make a mess on my trousers, girl.”

She looked away in embarrassment as he looked up at her in awe. Her lower lip trembled as he leaned forward, bringing his hand to cradle her cheek. He was completely entranced in her glowing red face. He wanted to stop the anxious tremble of her lip, soothe her embarrassment away however he could. But he found no words, instead leaning in, and letting his eyes slip closed as he brushed his thumb down her bottom lip. He could feel her sharp intake of breath nearly against his mouth. He can’t remember wanting something as simple as a kiss with such an intensity before.

She shoved at his chest and stumbled backwards, catching herself on the edge of the couch. His head was spinning from the whiplash as he watched her catch her breath moving as far away from him as the couch would allow.

“No kissing the clients,” she finally spoke after a few beats of heavy breathing.

“No? Just everything else?” He joked a little, trying to recover his own breathing and will his raging erection to go away. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she started clipping the corset back on.

He stood and slid back into his leather jacket and vest, slicking his hair back which had gotten a little disheveled when she played with it earlier. Then she awkwardly put her hand out and he remembered what he had promised her for such a nice private dance and handed her three hundred, “That’s some technique for your first time.”

“I’m a quick learner,” she nodded, gripping the cash like he was going to snatch it back from her and run. She led him back out into the main room without so much as looking at him and then ran back to the locker rooms, still a little unsteady as his eyes followed her out.

“I’ve been waiting out here for nearly a half hour,” complained Henry, getting up from the bar when he saw Gator. He barely understood the words, too busy thinking about how there was no way in hell he could wait another two weeks to see her again. She gave him a high he knew he’d be hooked on until the day he died. He figured he’d be a married man and still jerk off to her.

“Boy! You hear me? When your daddy hears about you fucking around--” Henry started to threaten, finally pulling Gator’s attention away from the girl. The shove of the white envelope into Henry’s chest cut him off.

“My daddy ain’t gonna hear about it, unless you want me burning this money up and telling him you fucking backward ass hillbillies lost it,” he said it softly with a half smile, contrasting the shouting of the older man who got even angrier as he lost his power.

“We’ll see about that. Don’t make me wait while you’re getting your dick sucked. If you’re daddy don’t make you answer to him. I’ll make you answer to me. Understand, son?”

“Maybe if your wife was better at it you wouldn’t have had to wait so long,” Gator leaned into the man, his hand hovering over the gun in his thigh holster.

“Alright, your time's coming, boy. Your time’s coming.”

“Whatever you say, Henry,” Gator grinned at him, “I’ll see you later.” He waved himself out and hopped into his truck.

He reached for his vape in his pocket, taking a long drag reigniting the buzz in his head that was worked up in the back room of The Tender Trap. He was trying to remember the way her face looked when she moaned, but his memories weren’t coming out right. He needed to see her again. And soon enough he was hard again as he drove back to the Tillman Ranch. The road was lonely and dark that night as he started to touch himself.